Requests: Open - I DO NOT write incest, age play, race play, or piss play. I'm open to writing for someone/fandom not listed below, but that doesn't mean every request will get written. We'll work it out together tho 😘
Asks: Open! Talk to me, I love, I crave
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Enjoy, hopefully 🧡🧡
Jujutsu Kaisen
☆ Satoru Gojo
Abundance - Desperate and in need of some way to keep finances stable, you follow multiple tutorials that show you how to summon a fairy to bring abundance. Instead, you wind up calling on a beefy, blue-eyed incubus.
Drabble 1 - Did you think clapping your cheeks would stop Satoru from being the poster boy for unnerving blue eyes?
☆ Choso Kamo
My Biggest Fan HC teaser - Mindlessly scrolling, Choso stumbles across and drools over videos of you dancing with your dance group. Once he starts to feel embarrassingly obsessed, your group announces that you'll be joining a major star on tour, stopping for a show in Tokyo. A divine sign, he's sure.
Drabble 1 - Choso hates the idea of sending his baby off with only one orgasm.
Streetlamp Angel 1 • 2 • - Choso is a little annoyed with the abrupt end his plug orchestrates with his clients... until he sees that the girl he was hung up on all of college is his new weed plug. Now his problems are both better and worse.
☆ Higuruma Hiromi
Can't Stop Now - You and Hiromi are colleagues by day and lovers by night. Today, though, it seems Higuruma simply can't wait until leaving work to satiate his ever-growing hunger for the flavor of you.
☆ Toji Fushiguro
Desperate For You - Toji was fine with your breakup when you were still basically his. Your time, bed, and attention were still his. Toji was not fine when you proved how little of his attention you still desired. Now, with you newly single and his desires no different than the day you left, Toji decides to tempt you back to him.
☆ Ieri Shoko
*Coming soon, and honestly, same. Yall gone be bumpin coochies 😘
Love and Deepspace
☆ Rafayel
Drabble 1 - Rafayel does NOT like it when you call him that.
☆ Caleb
Coming soon, ooh, and it's so messy, I've been giggling maniacally all day 😈
- oral (f receiving), m masturbation, yall are still at work
author's note: I have been itching to write again and my pussy lips snatched my phone and wrote this before I could, sorry. Masterlist
Higuruma digs his fingers into the flesh of your ass, squishing his open mouth further into the warm, sticky plush between your legs. He doesn't know how long he's been sat beneath the front desk desperately making out with your weeping cunt. The robust flavor of your juices on his tongue make him feel like he can't have been indulging himself for less than a few hours, but the itch of need in his throat - the need throbbing at the front his dress slacks, make him feel as if he just slid his nose up the seam of your lips moments ago.
The flow of colleagues passing you on their way out of the office has long since trickled from a steady stream to an occasional overachiever warning you not to work too hard. Hiromi loves wrenching his tongue from the tight hold your walls have him clamped in to swipe at your clit when it comes your turn to wish them well in return. Your fingernails grazing against his scalp as you struggle to pass off your soft moan of pleasure as a studious sigh. The shaky quiver in your voice as you work to end each interaction as quickly as it begins.
The last thing you wanted was to be found out... or so you whined to Hiromi when he first pulled you into the copier room, cheeks flushed with desire, to beg for permission to ease your tension and his after a long day. But as the helpful new hire lingered at the desk to confirm your dazed expression wasn't an early set cold, the fresh wave of arousal drenching his face said differently.
Fighting to keep up a professional front as minutes pass with no reprieve and itching to have Hiromi where you can clean your essence off of his face in the sloppiest way possible, your grip in his hair turns rough. As much as you can, you hurriedly grind on Higuruma's flushed face. He finds it adorable, that you think you can rush him, under the impression that an orgasm will prompt him to drag you out to parking garage to your car. The soft chuckle the idea pulls from him vibrates against your clit, washing your orgasm over you in a wave of warmth.
While you struggle through your orgasm, Hiromi can't help but ease one of his hands into his pants to stroke at his weeping cock. The other pulls you closer to him before you can roll your chair back any. Your cum coating his tongue serves as as a stimulant to his already aroused motivation. He can't stop now.
You manage to pull back enough from the desk to look underneath at Higuruma, your initial goal to quietly scold him and shoo him out from between your trembling thighs, but when your cloudy tear-filled eyes meet Hiromi's dark, lazy gaze, the devious quirk at the corners of his still working mouth sends another wave of arousal pooling out of your fluttering cunt and into his desperate mouth. He can't stop now. And if he could, he wouldn't.
synopsis: Sukuna discovers Uraume’s hidden desire for his wife. Amused and intrigued, he twists their devotion into a dangerous game of seduction and control, where loyalty, lust, and power collide..
⚝content: trueform!Sukuna x f!reader, nsfw, slight Uraume x reader, power play, sukuna being sadistic, voyeurism
⚝wc: 3.2k
⚝a/n: guys am I slowly turning into a Sukuna glazer? Is that what’s happening?
“Uraume.”
“Yes, master?”
“Have you had…lovers before?”
Ryomen leaned forward over the dining table, his crimson eyes sharp with mischief, resting his chin lazily on his hand. One of his upper arms reached for the delicate porcelain cup, lifting it to his lips as he took a sip, all while gauging Uraume’s reaction with predatory precision. Uraume, ever composed, took a deep breath—perhaps steadier than expected, but not beyond Sukuna’s notice.
“No, my lord. I am only loyal to you.”
Sukuna could only chuckle darkly at his most trusted advisor’s iron resolve.
“Surely you’ve been attracted to someone before.”
It’s subtle, but Sukuna noticed how Uraume’s body tensed at the question.
“Thats…”
His eyebrow quirks in amusement, the thought of them finding interest in anything other than servitude absolutely intriguing.
“Oh?” He purrs “Tell me Uraume, who’s captured your interest?”
Uraume pauses, their mouth slightly agape about to answer until the doors to the dining hall swing open.
“Good morning~” You yawn strutting into the grand hall. Ryomen’s ears perk up at the sound of your voice. You were draped in a black silk robe, loosely fitting to reveal your cleavage. He didn’t miss the way Uraume suddenly went rigid, their spine straightening as though an unseen force had pulled them taut.
“My lady..” Uraume says quietly, bowing deeply, far lower than usual. There was a slight tremor in their voice, one that would be imperceptible to anyone else, but to Sukuna, it was as clear as day.
Something flickered in Sukuna’s eyes—something dark, cunning, and hungry. He was beginning to connect the threads. Uraume’s abnormal stillness, their faltering words, their body language—how had he not seen it before?
As a light bulb switched off in his mind. Sukuna’s eyes darken as his mind swirls with ideas.
“Good morning, peach.” he purred, his voice a rich, velvety drawl as he pushed his chair back slightly, creating space between his thick thighs. You settle between him, his lower arm wrapping securely around your waist. Your fingers plucked a few of the fruits, and with a mischievous smile, you lifted them to his lips. Sukuna’s eyes gleamed as he accepted your offering, his lips brushing your fingertips as he took the grapes from your hand, savoring the taste.
“Did you sleep well?” he hummed, his voice a rumble that reverberated through your body, his grip on your waist tightening.
Uraume was trying so hard to maintain their composure, but Sukuna was a master at unraveling even the most tightly wound strings. He didn’t miss the lingering gaze, the subtle admiration—the longing in Uraume’s eyes as they glanced at you.
You smiled softly, nodding as you fed him another grape. “I did.”
The room felt charged with an unspoken tension. Sukuna’s gaze flitted between you and Uraume.
“Uraume was just about to tell us something…” Sukuna chuckled, his voice a deep, velvet purr dripping with dark amusement.
“Weren’t you, Uraume?”
The words rolled off his tongue like a challenge, low and sultry, and Uraume flinched ever so slightly. Their mouth opened, but no sound emerged, their composure threatening to crack under the weight of Sukuna’s relentless gaze.
Uraume’s adams apple bobbed as they swallowed hard, their hands clenching at their sides. They looked as though they were standing on the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to jump or retreat. Their gaze flicked to yours—full of something raw and unspoken—before they quickly averted their eyes again, their face flushing.
“Yes…” Uraume managed, voice tight. “The preparations for the festival next week are complete. I thought it would be a good outing for you, my lady.”
You perked up, Ryomen knew how much you loved going outside the castle. And even though he despised being among the general public he never chastised you for it.
He shifted in his chair, his arm still wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you just a little closer against him.
“An outing…” Sukuna mused, his voice low and thoughtful, malicious intent danced in his eyes. “How delightful.”
“Would you come this time Ryo?” You asked, eyes turning up to him with that innocent, pleading look he could never refuse.
His gaze flicks up to Uraume. He saw the way Uraume’s shoulders tensed, the way they remained painfully still. Sukuna could feel Uraume’s silent plea—don’t come. Don’t make this harder than it already is. But Sukuna, ever the sadist, felt the opposite.
His lips curled into a slow, wicked smile as he looked down at you. “How could I say no when you ask so sweetly, peach?” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble.
༺═────────────═༻
As the days slipped by, Sukuna’s amusement only deepened. What had once seemed like gestures of loyalty and respect from Uraume now held a different meaning altogether. The signs were there—delicate and unspoken, but there nonetheless.
He watched closely, sharper now, how Uraume’s hands lingered just a moment longer than necessary when adjusting your robes, or the way their fingers brushed your skin with a softness that would have seemed impossible for a being so devoted to carrying out the King of Curses’ bidding. Uraume, so effortlessly deadly, became something else entirely when in your presence—gentle, careful. As though you were made of glass. And Sukuna saw it all.
Of course, Ryomen Sukuna knew how captivating his wife was. You were beauty incarnate—graceful, magnetic, and utterly enchanting. He had always reveled in the way your presence could command a room, how your smile could make the world feel warmer. It wasn’t lost on him how others admired you, but he had never paid it much attention. You were his. That had never been up for debate.
The thought of his most trusted advisor being captivated by you was both amusing and intriguing. To think that Uraume, who had stood by his side through countless battles, who had remained steadfast and loyal through the bloodiest of wars, was not immune to your charm—it was almost laughable. But it was more than that. It was a game, a deliciously cruel game that Sukuna couldn’t resist playing.
༺═────────────═༻
It was bath time, the air thick with steam, curling up in soft tendrils around the marble walls of the grand bathhouse. You and Sukuna sat on opposite ends, your legs grazing one another beneath the surface. Uraume carefully washed your hair, applying the perfect amount of pressure when scratching your scalp.
Sukuna watched from his end of the tub, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he observed the way Uraume tended to you—so gentle, so precise. It was the kind of attention a lover would give, not merely an attendant.
You, of course, were oblivious. Your eyes were closed, soft hum of contentment escaping your lips as Uraume’s deft fingers massaged your scalp. The warmth of the bath relaxing you, Sukuna could see the soft smile tugging at your lips, unaware of the turmoil that brewed just beneath the surface.
“Uraume?” You question softly “Did those oils you ordered from Kuroshiki arrive yet? I think Ryo would like them today.”
“Yes…” Uraume says snapping out of their daze “I will fetch them right away my lady.”
“Bathing with fragrance oil? You really do spoil me” Sukuna says smirking.
You leaned closer to him, your fingers lightly trailing along the edge of the tub as you spoke, voice soft and inviting. “You seem… distracted as of late, my king,” you murmured, “I wish you would tell me what was occupying your mind.
A dark chuckle rumbled from his broad chest as he shifted slightly, adjusting his position as his crimson eyes traveled over your face, lingering on the way your wet hair clung to your skin and how the water caressed your naked form beneath the surface.
“My dear,” he purred, his voice low and smooth, “If I’m distracted, it’s only because of you.” He let the words hang in the air, his gaze darkening as he watched your reaction, the tension between you palpable.
Your lips curled into a slow, teasing smile, and you raised a brow, tilting your head as you reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his chest.
Ryomen’s hand shot out, snaking around your waist and pulling you flush against him, your breath catching in your throat as you found yourself pressed up against his chest. His other hand trailed lazily through the water, his fingers skimming along your thigh just beneath the surface. Your heart raced, the warmth of the bath and the heat of his touch intertwining, making it difficult to think clearly.
“And you, my queen…” Sukuna’s voice rumbled with a dark edge, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck as he spoke. “What has been occupying your mind?”
Your breath hitched as you felt his lips graze your skin, the sensation sending a wave of heat through you. You tilted your head slightly, allowing him better access to your neck, your lips parting as you replied, your voice soft and laced with desire. “Only you, my king. Always you.”
“Good,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. “I like to know where your thoughts are.”
Just as the moment seemed to deepen, the door to the bathhouse creaked open. Uraume entered with their usual calm, carrying a small, ornate jar of oils. The soft clink of the jar being set down on the table was like a loud intrusion into your private world. Uraume cleared their throat, the sound sharp in the silence.
“My lady, my lord,” Uraume announced quietly, their eyes briefly meeting yours before darting away, their cheeks flushing slightly with the strain of maintaining composure.
You pull yourself away from your husband back to your side of the tub, smiling politely.
“Thank you Uraume.”
Sukuna’s expression darkened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as he observed Uraume. His earlier pleasure was replaced by a simmering frustration, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the timing of the intrusion.
They bowed respectfully, eyes fixed on the floor as they took their leave. The door clicked shut behind them, and the room fell into an uneasy silence.
As the two of you settled back, Sukuna’s thoughts were already racing ahead. He decided he would push Uraume’s resolve to the breaking point, manipulate their emotions, and watch with dark satisfaction as their carefully constructed façade crumbled. Sukuna was eager to see how far he could push his most loyal servant before they fell apart.
The morning light seeped through the dark curtains of your shared bedroom. Sukuna sat up, his muscular back pressed against the dark mahogany headboard as he watched you.
His eyes, sharp and intent, traced the curve of your body as you slept. The way your body stirred against the black silk sheets, the fabric of your sleep robe slipped off your shoulders—revealing more and more of your skin with every rise and fall of your chest. His own arousal growing at the mere sight of you.
He leaned down to you, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone. One arm snaked up to your chest, slipping under your robe to caress your breast. You whimpered in your sleep, squirming under his large hands.
“Ryo?” You question, eyes still closed as you feel the warmth of his palms set fire to your cool skin. Your body responding to him almost instinctively, heat pooling in your core as his touch deepened, awakening a familiar hunger within you.
“Awake already, peach?” he murmured against your skin. The sound of his voice alone—low, gravelly, and undeniably seductive—vibrated through you, making your breath hitch.
You hum as your back instinctively arches into his touch.
“Don’t you have… ahhh. Meetings in the morning?”
“Mmm.” he purred in acknowledgment, peeling the robe off of your body. “It can wait. There’s something far more… compelling… that’s caught my attention.”
Your body shivers slightly as Ryomen removes the covers, he drinks in the sight before him. Removing his mouth from your neck, before dipping his head between your legs.
He inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of your dripping cunt. Ryomen flattens his tongue, the wet muscle circling your bundle of nerves. His two upper arms hold your thighs in place, nails digging into the plush flesh. The room fills with your sleepy moans and whimpers as The king of curses slurps up your essence. He latches onto your clit, sucking while his tongue swirls.
You grab tufts of his fluffy pink hair between your manicured fingers, tugging gently. He looked up at you through half lidded eyes, smirking against your cunt as you grind against his face.
You felt the pressure building in your core, Sukuna felt your heart quicken—continuing his ministrations. Just as you felt the dam about to break.
Knock knock
Ryomen let out a low growl, the vibration rumbling through your cunt. He reluctantly tore his face away from between your legs.
“What is it?” His voice laced with venom.
“It’s me, my lord.”
He pauses, gaze flicking between the door and your panting form. An idea pops into his mind.
“Come in.” Sukuna muses, his voice smooth and deliberate.
Your eyes shot open, widening in shock as the doorknob slowly began to turn. Panic flooded your veins, your breath catching in your throat as you realized what he intended. You tried to push against him, but Sukuna’s grip was ironclad, his body pinning yours down against the silken sheets.
“Ryo, please!” you whispered urgently, your heart racing as you felt the weight of the moment closing in on you, the tension in the air thick enough to cut. But your pleas only seemed to excite him further. Sukuna’s smirk deepened, a cruel chuckle escaping his lips.
Uraume stepped into the room, eyes respectfully downcast, holding a scroll of parchment.
“My lord, I—”
But the words died on their lips the moment they finally looked up. Uraume stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening in disbelief as they took in the scene before them.
“Ah, Uraume!” Sukuna drawled, his voice full of amusement. “You may speak.”
“I-if this is not a good time—“
Ryomen chuckles, his hand snaking up to give your tit a gentle squeeze. Rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger. You bite back a whimper.
“Nonsense! Continue.” He says, gaze never leaving you.
Uraume glances at you, their eyes raking over your form. They had dressed and bathed you countless times. However nothing could quite compare to the way your skin glistened with sweat, chest heaving as you tried to regain a steady heartbeat. They way your eyes were nearly black, glazed over with pleasure. They shouldn’t feel this way… they couldn’t and yet it was impossible to ignore the growing heat, the tightening coil as Uraume saw you in your most vulnerable state.
“Speak, Uraume,” Sukuna commanded again, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He relished in the discomfort radiating from his loyal servant, the way their breath quickened and their hands trembled ever so slightly at their sides.
“U-Uraume… you don’t have to listen to him.” You manage to mumble, trying to separate your rational mind from the pleasure your husbands fingers were giving you.
“Oh? But darling Uraume wants to see this.” He purrs. “Don’t you Uraume?”
They want to go, to turn on their heels and walk—no run quickly, and far away from the both of you. But every movement—every verbal protest failed to ever come to fruition. All Uraume could do in that moment. Was watch.
Watch as you writhed under their master, as your supple skin they so tirelessly cared for was marked. As your aching cunt was toyed with, as the saccharine moans fell from your plump lips.
Heat rises to your cheeks as you glance at Uraume, who watched intently as Ryomen gathered the wetness from your folds and his index finger was slowly swallowed by your walls. The lewd noises your sloppy cunt uttered as he pumped slowly into you—like sweet music. He grinned maliciously as he felt you clench around his finger. Despite your earlier protest—he knew you were enjoying this as much as him.
You bit down on your lip, stifling your moans as he curled his finger up to your sweet spot.
“Don’t hold back, peach…” He hums as he inserts another finger. “Let them hear how good it feels.”
Uraume’s breath hitches again, body tensing even more as they watch your every move from the sidelines. Sukuna’s gaze falls on your hand, gripping the silk sheets for support. His eyebrow quirks as another idea pops into his head.
“Hold her hand, Uraume.” He commands softly. Their eyes widen briefly before following his command. Uraume’s hand wraps gently around yours, intertwining fingers. Their breath is heavier now, cheeks flushed with color.
You finally make eye contact with Uraume, looking up at them through half-lidded eyes. You had never seen them like this, such hunger in their dark pink gaze. Looking upon you with pure lust. It made your cunt clench even more around your husband’s fingers.
Ryomen continues his assault on your sopping hole, pumping in and out relentlessly. Every time his curled digits brushed against your g-spot you feel the all too familiar pressure building in your lower abdomen.
“Ryo! m’close…” You whine softly looking down at him. He only grins in response glancing at his advisor.
“Don’t tell me.” He growls “Tell Uraume how you feel.”
Tears now pricked your eyes, the overwhelming sensation proving too much for you. You look up at Uraume through wet lashes.
“U-Uraume… I’m fuckkk gonna cum!” You whimper, they don’t respond—instead squeezing your hand tighter as they struggle to breathe.
Sukuna smirks as his wife and most trusted attendant share the intimate eye contact. His own cock twitching in excitement.
“Uraume…” he hums in mockery “She’s right on the edge, should we give her what she wants?”
Their eyes flit between you and Sukuna, feeling dizzy with pleasure. You looked so needy, so desperate for release. They couldn’t deny you any longer. They needed to see you come undone.
“P-please Uraume.” You choke out—hiccuping as fat tears rolled down your face. “Can’t take much more!”
Uraume lets out a shaky breath, their gaze never leaving yours.
“Y-yes! Please my lord!” Their voice almost matching your own desperation.
And with one more thrust of his thick fingers your body shakes. You cry out in pleasure. Writhing as Uraume’s nails dig into the flesh of your hand, holding your hand in a vice grip. A gasp escaping their lips.
Sukuna slowly removes his fingers from you, bringing them up to Uraume’s face teasingly before sucking them clean of your slick. A silent reminder that you would always be his.
Sukuna and Uraume fix their gaze on you, sprawled out on the sheets, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He glances over at them, noticing how their lips were parted. How their eyes were glued to you. As if they dared to blink you would disappear.
“She’s beautiful… isn’t she Uraume?” He purrs, lightly tracing the curves of your body.
Warnings: cursing, Choso is thirsty as always, lil jealousy (m)
Summary: Choso is a little annoyed with the abrupt end his plug orchestrates with his clients... until he sees that the girl he was hung up on all of college is his new weed plug. Now his problems are both better and worse.
Part 1 • Part 2 • Masterlist
Choso has a dilemma, he realizes, as he jams his keys back into his pocket, tips of his ears positively burning carnelian as his brother throws his head back with laughter.
Apparently, this was the nth time he'd been caught tracing his new heart keychain across his bottom lip in contemplation this morning. He hadn't even noticed the habit he'd picked up until Yuji tilted his head in curiosity, "What's with the heart? The little thing you keep kissing. Got a girlfriend?" The questions weren't pointed, as a matter of fact, they couldn't have been more casual, Yuji's eyes only flicking away from the beer cooler in the store for a moment to look at the pink heart Choso had pressed against his lips.
'Kissing' is what makes Choso flustered, or more, the thought of a kiss. He thinks back to four nights ago when he cracked open the little package you'd stapled to his weed. "What's this?" He'd asked you softly, large fingers struggling for a moment to open the bag with the half smoked joint between his lips.
After asking, Choso tightened the hold his mouth had on the joint, sucking in a deep lungful. He could feel himself about to claim victory over the snap close on the teensy baggie when you reached over and clasped the doob between your fingers, "I gotcha, Kamo." You muttered softly. Choso was so stunned by your fingers suddenly being so close to his mouth that he gasped in a breath, taking in even more musky smoke and dropping the contents of the now opened bag.
"Shit," You patted firmly on Choso's back, attempting to help, he was sure, but those eyes of yours sparked with worry for him again as your pats alternated with soothing circles on his back - a deadly combination. Choso was actually a little glad he was already choking, at least then, he couldn't embarrass himself by choking on air at your touch a second fucking time.
Once he'd finally been able to ease his coughs, you ashed the joint and took your puff as normal, "You always been so accident prone?" You chuckled, eyes cutting to him before searching through the short grass. He should have helped you look, he realized in retrospect, for the dropped keychain, even if it was pretty quickly identifiable. Choso couldn't though. Not when his body was tingling from all of your casual contact. He had enough he was shuffling around in his mind to keep from stripping you down right there in the grass. You shot up swiftly from your search, settling back against the railing like you'd swooped in on a breeze.
"'S a reminder. My customers get it, think of me when they see it, remember they need to restock." You let the keychain dangle from your fingers as you talked, finally extending towards him when you were done, tossing a casual wink to Choso when your eyes caught his soft smile.
A soft smile he finds himself hiding again when Yuji's muttered 'awwe' at said smile pops his daydreaming bubble, so with a clear of his throat and a flush bleeding out behind his face tattoo, Choso jams the evidence away, "I wasn't kissing it." And thus, Yuji's attention-calling uproarious laughter.
"So no girlfriend, but a girl still?" Yuji asks, once he's settled down, turning to Choso, and if you asked the older brother, he'd tell you that surely some of this attention was his brother enjoying a distraction from having to pick out a beverage for the party they were both heading to. "There's... uh, yeah. Yeah a girl gave it to me."
Choso can't quite figure out how he should talk about you yet. In truth, he still hasn't fully processed himself that you were within reach. With just a swipe of his thumb, he could be seeing you in minutes - it's exciting and terrifying and a bunch of other feelings he can't even name all at the same time, confusing him and keeping his temperature high.
Once again, Choso finds himself distracted during conversation with his brother, Yuji having to swat softly at his brother's arm, "Whoa. Were you thinking about her just now?" Before Choso, gargantuan in the aisle, his little brother gazes at him with those big brown eyes of his, fairytales already spinning in his mind.
First and foremost, Yuji Itadori is a hopeless romantic, and Choso truly does not think he can handle his precious sibling gazing down at him in anticipation asking for regular updates about you. He has to find a way out of this - quick. "I was thinking about death." Fuck.
Yuji's eyes widen as he straightens his posture, "Whoa. Really?"
FUCK. "Yeah. Ya know." Choso cringes internally, hoping he hasn't turned any more red under the scrutiny. Cutting his eyes to his brother, Choso thinks that maybe he's convinced the gentle giant of his passing melancholy.
Furrowing his brow, Yuji claps a large hand on his brother's shoulder, "You know what, bro?" The youngest asks, taking a half-step closer as he takes a deep breath. Mission accomplished. And, if Yuji's serious contemplative gaze is enough to go off of, Choso seems to be in for a look into his brother's mind, a genuine - "You suck at lying!"
The party is in full swing when the brothers show up; people already loosened up enough to be drunkenly rambling to strangers or making out in the middle of the floor. Each brother slides through the crowd with ease, Yuji's greetings and the clinking of each of their held taverns announcing their arrival helping out with the parting.
The change is one Choso welcomes during time spent with his brother. Yuji's sunny energy lights up a room, he walks with excitement and purpose. Choso, on the other hand, prefers to drift through people, like a breeze.
While basking proudly in Yuji's glow as the brothers traverse to the kitchen, Choso notices - between his shuffles of the delicate balance of bottles, cans, and jars in his arms - that Yuji is actually greeting a lot of people. He seems to be taking his time, slowly searching through the faces in the crowd and flicking his eyes back to his brother every few moments. If Choso didn't know any better, he'd say his brother was looking for someone, but Choso can't even begin to guess who it is. They'd passed all of Yuji's close friends, at least.
As the boys make space on the counter and in the fridge for their month's supply of alcohol, that heady, familiar scent wafts in from the garage in the backyard - all the smokers are already gathered, too. The scent makes Yuji's head perk up and Choso can't help the small chuckle that exits his nose as he thinks about their childhood dog doing the exact same thing.
"Hey! Do you think your girl is in the back?" Choso's eyes widen as his face begins to burn. He's about to tell his brother to keep his voice down, but before he can even speak, Choso feels a chill zip across the back of his neck and turns towards the entryway of the kitchen. Sure enough, there stands one of Yuji's aforementioned close friends, the grin on Nobara's face stretching menacingly wide, "Your girl, huh?" She repeats, her teasing lilt everything Choso has been trying to avoid.
"No."
"Yes! And he won't even tell me who she is." The brothers respond at the same time, Choso trying to sell his nonchalance as he goes back to placing bottles and cans. Nobara doesn't seem to care about his act, though; she never does, "Oh, so she's not his girl then. Choso just has a widdle embawassing cwush." The girl sing-songs as she plucks a can from Yuji's arms and clicks open the top, chuckling all the while.
Nobara Kugisaki is practically like part of their family, trusted and loved like one of their own. That fact erases any trepidation Choso would have had about flipping a middle finger over his shoulder to his bratty little pseudo-sister. Choso keeps his back to the pair, hoping Nobara's drunken energy will shift the conversation at breakneck speed once she gets bored. Unfortunately for him, that hope would require Yuji to also be willing to drop his search, which he clearly isn't, when he abandons his drinks in their messy, tipped-over pile on the kitchen island and rushes over to Choso's side, "Do you though? Think she's here?"
And he looks so excited. Choso feels his heart melting a bit as he looks into his brother's eyes and sees his hope. For as long as he can remember, Yuji has swooned at the slightest hint of love in the air. Now, with those all-seeing eyes, just as engaged as if he were still 9, gazing all glisteningly at him, Choso near concedes. He doesn't think you'll be at the party, he usually doesn't see you at parties, but maybe he could just say yes, to see his brother's eyes light up again.
He considers for too long, apparently - a pattern he would not like to be known for - because Yuji seems to reach his own conclusion and looks to Nobara over his shoulder, "You wanna come see if she's outside with us?" Choso grumbles, he can't believe he almost fell into the trap of his brother's adorable nature, "That's not what I'm doing, Yuji."
Nobara snorts, barking out a quick, "Sure you aren't." before throwing back the rest of her drink. Yuji watches in amused awe as Nobara guzzles, liquid seeping past the corners of her mouth as a few nearby partygoers chant for her to chug. Choso can barely hear them over the rumbling of the annoyed growl rolling behind his clenched jaw.
Finally done, Nobara slams down her can with a gasp of air and a look to the brothers, "I don't have time to mingle in the smoke shack with you trolls," she exclaims proudly, mouth and the surrounding skin slightly discolored from the tinted liquid she threw back, "I'm going snooping." With that final statement and her large grin, Nobara Kugisaki bounds out of sight, her thudding footsteps heading upstairs.
"So," Choso starts, leaning against the kitchen counter, "You gonna go find Megumi?" He keeps his voice casual. At first, Nobara's interruption seemed like the final nail in the coffin, but her antics actually knocked things back in their original rhythm. "Oh, Megumi?" Yuji contemplates for a moment, before lifting his shoulder in a shrug, "Nah. He won't care about your girl. Let's go."
Yuji flashes a smile to Choso, one he realizes he's seen many times before. It's the triumphant grin Yuji always wore when he got his way despite Choso's best efforts. Rather than fight the inevitable, Choso follows his baby brother outside. Worst case scenario, he and Yuji have to leave early because the lightweight is a touchy, silly mess after more than one rotation in the smoke circle and he'll insist on staying around to feel out Choso.
The musky scent of smoke and the music playing in the garage all grow stronger the closer Choso gets, the party culture of the smoke circle ready to embrace him. Just before Yuji can rush to open the door to the garage, Nobara calls out for him, hanging out of an upstairs window, "Hey, Itadori!" Yuji stops in his tracks, turning around to meet his friend's determined glare and pointing finger, "You find that girl."
Rolling his eyes, Choso sidesteps Yuji's saluting form and opens the garage door, enjoying the rush of warmth to combat fall's chilly breeze slipping through the holes in his large knit sweater. Choso closes his eyes at the wave of heat, soaking in the contrast for a second before opening his eyes and freezing at the threshold of paradise for the second time.
"Hey Cho." You're here. You called him Cho. Fuck. You're here. Choso can't decide if he's happy that he's seeing you again or panicking because his very curious little brother may very well find him out. "Hurry up and come inside, Choso, before you get a cold." You scooch over on the large, plush chair you're occupying at the head of the room and pat the space beside you.
Fuck, again! That space will be an overlap of your body on his if he takes you up on your offer. There are a few open seats around the circle, a coffee table holding your purse, an ash tray, and a speaker set in the center. Yuji would definitely notice something if he saw Choso sitting with you, no matter how hard the eldest would try to hide it. But would you make the same offer to the next person to open the door? To the next guy?
Before Choso can spiral, Yuji squeezes into the doorway with him, "Is that you, big sis?" He calls excitedly, not caring for how he's squishing both him and Choso. Choso, who's face practically bursts into flame he's so embarrassed. Was he that obvious, without even having to see his face?
Yuji! I didn't know you partied." You show Yuji a grin Choso has never seen before and he doesn't know if he's more confused or jealous. "Come sit with me, Yu." You call the youngest brother by a nickname too, and Yuji doesn't hesitate when you invite him. The boy plops down right beside you, shrugging off his jacket before asking if he can give you a hug.
Choso still hasn't moved from his spot in the doorway. There's so much information to digest. He thought Yuji was just better at reading him than he'd assumed, but watching you laugh at Yuji's excited chattering, arms still wrapped around each other, Choso thinks... red? He isnt quite sure what he's thinking, honestly. His frontal lobe is still steaming away.
After a few more moments of paralyzed confusion, someone's disgruntled demand for the door to be closed pulls Choso inside of the garage, the door slowly falling shut behind him.
He feels like he's in a trance as he trudges to the seat nearest yours, a person in-between you and him on your left side. Yuji is tucked in snugly on your right, and by now, you've adjusted so the thigh that was squished against Yuji's is lifted slightly, so the bottom of your thigh rests against the side of Yuji's leg. You aren't sitting in his lap, not even close, but you're far enough away from sitting beside him that Choso can feel himself bristle even more at the contact.
"You know each other?" Choso wants to bury himself alive when he hears the stiffness in his tone. You don't seem to notice, just shooting him that lazy smile as you nod through your exhale, smoke billowing. Yuji, on the other hand, zeroes in on his brother as he explains - referring to you by your first name, Choso notices - that you work at the bookstore he buys all his manga from. "Big sis has the coolest taste. She likes really good music too." Yuji looks back to you now, his smile brightening even more, "Choso's my big brother!"
The revelation makes your eyebrows lift slightly, but then your gaze slides over to Choso and relaxes again as you chuckle, smooth and unhuried, "I should have guessed." Choso doesn't know what that means, but he does know that the subtle tilt in your head as you look at him makes Choso want to switch seats so he'll be closer in line to smoke away some of the anxious tension in his shoulders.
That wouldn't work though. Then he'd be across from you, looking right at you without even trying. He isn't sure he can do that right now, especially not with the way the back of his neck is already sweating and his brother is growing more sure and excited by the moment.
"Well," Choso clears his throat, feeling raspy and dry all of a sudden. "I - We, she and I were classmates in college." He sniffles nothing through his clear sinuses and looks to his left - only two people between him and an excuse to not fucking talk right now.
You don't let the time pass easily either, grin growing into a teasing smirk, "You can call me by my name, Kamo." The relaxed lull of your voice curls around Choso's chest, making his heart skip a beat. He hasn't called you by your first name before, it makes Choso's hands begin to clam up, "You don't have to call me Ka-"
"Yeah, Choso?" You question, giving him a challenging smile. It's like you're feeding on the other people in the room, taking in all of their admiring gazes and and powering up the gleam of your smile, the intensity of your gaze, and setting it squarely on him. He can't escape when you look at him like that, like you see through him. He wants to squirm away. He wants to pull you out of that chair and imprint the texture of the carpet into your skin with the pressure of his body on yours.
Instead, he ashes the joint and clears his throat, muttering your name before busying his mouth with sucking in as deep a lungful as he can manage without choking himself in front of you... again. You chuckle at his boyish mutter of your name, resting your cheek on your palm patiently.
Yuji, on the other hand, gasps at his brother's professional grade hit, "Whoa! Way to set a challenge, bro. I accept!" His little brother presents an enthusiastic thumbs up. Choso coughs out the last of his smoke, passing the joint to his right while he shakes his head. "No. That was not a challenge, Yuji."
"Well, it is now."
Huffing in exasperation, Choso looks to you again, his breath catching for a beat, "He can't smoke that much." Choso can't quite read your shift in expression, but you nod as you take the joint, "I gotcha, Cho." You mutter, just as careful and earnest as you had four nights ago.
"Alright, Baby Kamo, orders from on high." You deliver the line to Yuji, your voice silk sheets on his warm skin. "What? I'm not that much younger!" Yuji protests your verbiage, but Choso can't help but feel some relief at the ease with which you slot his brother into a platonic position. Baby Kamo. An extension of him.
If you were still in college, Choso might feel a bit petty about his win. About even categorizing it as a win, but this is the real world. Yeah, he's younger, but you're all adults and Choso isn't blind to what a catch his little brother is. If it were any girl but you, he'd be advocating for her to devote all of her attention to the pink-haired brother. Unfortunately for Yuji, it isn't.
Unfortunately for Choso too, as you bring the joint in your fingers to Yuji's mouth for him to take his puff that way. At almost the exact same time, Choso and Yuji look to each other: Yuji looking for his brother's permission, apparently, and Choso, honestly, out of a moment of panic. The scenario makes his blood run white hot, but still, Choso gives a barely perceptible nod to his brother.
Yuji leans in to your hand and takes a puff of the joint, huffing a gentle protest when you cut his hit short, pulling the joint from between his lips and taking it into your own. It's the culture of the smoke circle, of course, and Choso already figured you shared joints with other people like you had him; but seeing it in person? Choso feels an embarrassing possessiveness as he watches you engage in an indirect kiss with his brother.
Slotted platonically or not, you and Yuji, in all of 20 minutes, had crossed all lines of familiarity that the two of you had. As irrational as it is, he's seething as you pull the end of the doob from your mouth, tongue mindlessly swiping over your bottom lip. It should be his -
"Hey Choso!" Yuji's shout snatches Choso's attention, as well as startles everyone else in the cocoon of your specific warmth. Yuji's cheeks are flaming red and he's standing, eyes bouncing to and fro, "Come keep big sis company while I track down Megumi."
Choso's eyes widen, but he takes the cue from his brother and makes his way over with no hesitation, "Oh, uh, sure. I can do that."
When Choso finally sees his brother out of the garage, his side is pressed into yours, the warmth of your body damn near scorching him through his clothes. Choso feels so hyper aware of every point your bodies connect: side, arm, thigh, breast. And aiming another grin at him, you extend the joint still poised between your fingers to Choso, "Wanna sneak seconds?"
Clenching his stomach tightly and meeting your gaze, Choso leans in and closes his lips over the joint, his lips grazing your fingers lightly. You hold his gaze as he inhales, again, doing more harm than good with your attention, and again, seemingly unaware. When Choso parts his lips for a plume to follow the joint out, you give him a slow wink and turn to pass the doobie, laughing at whatever that girl says. She doesn't matter though, because now, Choso has a mission to take more seriously: keep you company; and he plans on extending his mission beyond the party.
Warnings: cursing, resisting the urge to perv (m), fffffffat juicy crushing feelings (m)
Summary: Choso is a little annoyed with the abrupt end his plug orchestrates with his clients... until he sees that the girl he was hung up on all of college is his new weed plug. Now his problems are both better and worse.
Word Count: 1527
Part 1 • Part 2 • Masterlist
Choso sits on the hood of his car as he looks over the town, chewing his thumbnail idly in boredom. It's deep night, and dark up on the road, save for the occasional street lamp as far apart as they can reach while still being within regulation, but the city below bustles with life nonetheless. He pulls his phone from the worn pocket of his favorite old sweats to check the time: 12:04am - 4 minutes late.
Well, you technically aren't late. This was a wild, last-minute request, actually. Choso had finally collapsed on his couch after a long day at work and was prepared to smoke away his tension when he remembered he was out. He was honestly just shooting his shot when he messaged the smudged number scribbled on the ripped corner of a takeout box Hakari had given him their last meet up instead of his weed. "My replacement." Was all he gave as an explanation.
There is nothing on the cardboard chip but your number, so Choso had completely forgotten what the number meant by the morning. Until the aforementioned stress left him groaning into his hand as he debated whether to pick up smoking cigarettes and just run to the convenience store, or to take his chances in the middle of the night with a stranger's number.
As your car pulls up behind his at 12:05 though, Choso is glad he'd taken the chance; he really needs a smoke.
Gliding off his hood, Choso tries to get a look at his new dealer through the heavily tinted windows of their car as he approaches the passenger door, with no luck. And it proves to be no fucking luck indeed when Choso slides his way into the toasty car and sucks in a breath upon seeing you in the driver's seat.
You give a warm hum as you recognize Choso as well, giving him a laid back smile as you relax even more into your seat, angling your body towards him, "Hey, Kamo. Why didn't you say it was you?" You finish off your question with a sedated chuckle, every bit as beautiful and flustering as he remembers from college. Your eyes lock as you settle and Choso is rushed by memories of admiring you from afar. You've always been so cool, and pretty, nice, whatever else that guy gave the Power Puff Girls, and it seems that hasn't changed. You still leave his mouth dry and the back of his neck clammy. He can already feel the baby hairs on his nape beginning to curl.
"I didn't know." He says, so softly you can barely hear him. You laugh a little at him and lean closer, "One more time, please. For the people in the front." You smile teasingly at Choso, head tilted, and he can't decide if he's being rewarded or tortured, but he's fine with the near-bruising punch of his heart if it means proximity to those easy eyes of yours.
Again, "I didn't know it was you." Choso digs through his pockets, trying to distract himself from the embarrassing devotion that came out in his softer-than-intended response. He clears his throat as he finds it, "Hakari only gave me this." Choso reveals what he'd been searching for. In his large, barely moist hand, you spy the cardboard chip.
The revelation makes you laugh, the sound filling the car and Choso's belly, like the warmth of a stew made with love in the winter. "That sounds like him. Good on you for dealing with his dumb ass. And, as a reward..." you lean in to Choso, voice lowered conspiratorially. He thinks you're going to reward him with a kiss for a moment, but instead (and actually not as close to him as he'd thought), you lean into the back seat.
From over your shoulder, you toss a sizable baggie to Choso, at least 2 grams bigger than what he ordered. He busies himself, admiring your packaging in a herculean effort to not watch your ass move around as you dig through your bag on the ground behind Choso's seat. You've stapled on a small note and even smaller disposable pouch. The note is simple, a quick 'Hope this makes you think of me' followed by a heart and your signature. The heart makes Choso's stomach flip despite not being for him. It's his anyway, and that's what matters. And was much more wholesome than whatever thoughts your bent figure conjured.
Choso is about to open the teeny little pouch when you pop back into your seat, a fat joint wrapped in an extra-large pink paper set between your fore and middle fingers, "As a reward, you get me as your new dealer. And I roll fatter joints. Want some, Kamo?" You lift your brow with a cheshire smile steadily pulling at the corners of your mouth.
Your car smells vaguely of weed, if he's looking for the scent, but mainly, in the glow of the light-up anime pin clipped onto your vent, Choso smells you. Your body soap, your seasonally scented lip balm, the drink you've mostly finished in the cup holder. Choso doesn't want to ruin that, even if he wouldn't be back in your car tonight. "Yeah. We can sit outside, if you wanna. No one comes by here, 'specially not this late."
His suggestion brings you to a lazy smile, hands already moving to shut off your car and deposit your keys, "You bring Hakari to lotsa... isolated, atmospheric places to smoke?" The accusation is loud in Choso's ears, flushing his neck and cheeks an incriminating pink. It's so loud, in fact, that Choso doesn't even register the teasing grin still lingering on your face and in your tone, "N-no! I always - I swear this wasn't - " Your laugh stops Choso in his rambling.
Choso releases the breath he didn't realize he was holding, "Relax, Kamo, you didn't even know who was coming." You remind him, waving his apologies away with your keys, "Don't worry, I know you're a gentleman." You say gentleman with a soft seriousness, genuinely, in an effort to convince Choso he has no apologies to make.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck, how wrong you are, because you slip out of the car now, joint already between your lips to free up your hands, and Choso can't move for a moment, having to distract himself from the fact that his mouth will be pressing where yours has been. He'll be kissing you, indirectly, over and over again. The thought makes his temperature rise, and risks the rise of something else, so he sits and he focuses.
Physics. Potholes. Your lips. Fuck. Wait, no! No, not fuck. No fucking. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Death. DEATH. Gasoline. Nature. Mt. Fuji. Fucking you-
"Hey," Choso jumps horridly, knocking his head on the roof of your car when you pull his door open. He must have been taking too long, and even more than that, he was not having the thoughts of a gentleman when you opened the door in the slightest. And now, ducked down so you're eye-level with him in his seated position, eyes concerned and searching his, if you mentioned Choso and gentleman in the same sentence together, you'd probably get fucking smoted for blasphemy.
His shock doesn't melt your concern, but it does make you chuckle at him, popping the joint between your lips again so you can rub healing circles on the crown of Choso's head, "Careful. You know, I really was joking, Kamo." Your voice is soft, tender with him, even talking around the doob. With the streetlamp illuminating you from above and the warmth of your comforting touch, Choso is almost convinced he's being lifted into heaven by an angel of inebriation. Of his body and his soul.
Choso is so content to fly under your scrutiny that he doesn't realize he's been gazing again until you stop circling your thumb on his head and instead give him one soft thump as you settle your thumb in the messy part he made for his pigtails this morning. The concern is back in full effect and punching the air from his lungs; you've been trying to console and reassure him all this while, and here he is, wondering if you'd rub at his hair the same way seated on his lap, clothed or otherwise.
You're waiting for his confirmation, breathing even and hand on his head keeping his gaze on yours. Choso wants to surge forward and search your neck with his tongue until he can bite at your steady pulse tell you that he's fine. That, as a matter of fact, despite his irregular heart pounding, consistent slips into his subconscious, and embarrassment rising higher than he'd ever thought it could, he has never been better, but instead, Choso's Adam's apple drags along his throat as he swallows, "You can call me Choso."
The worry in your eyes is replaced by a flash of surprise before you let your head fall forward in a laugh. The action puts more pressure on the top of Choso's head, but he can't imagine he'd ever find it in himself to care. Not when you laugh like that, concluding your outburst with a soft snort.
You pluck your hands from both Choso's head and your car door, the reclaimed distance forcing Choso to bite back a whine at your removal. Instead, your hands now busy themselves with your keychain, rifling about until a personalized lighter meets the edge of the joint in your mouth. The flame washes you in a passionate glow, shadows lighting your face as the perfect temptation when you flick your eyes up to his in invitation.
Taking a step back so Choso can step out of the car, joint finally lit, you hollow your cheeks in a slow drag. As you exhale a halo of smoke, you pass to Choso, signature lazy grin leaving you a sight worthy of painting, "How about you smoke my weed and then decide if you want me to call you by your first name?"
Such a formality is - respectfully to you, Choso thinks you're brilliant - stupid beyond his comprehension. This joint could be comprised of fucking shit and glass, and Choso would want nothing more than for you to call out his name. But he can't say that, he can barely speak in your presence, so Choso just takes the joint from you, pulled into your orbit as he slams your door closed, "Okay."
a.n. i already have 4 more parts to this written, so i hope y'all like it + super cute dividers from @cafekitsune
Once you give Rafayel a pet name, be warned, calling him by his actual name will be seen as a slight of the highest offense.
Y'all are walking down the street hand in hand and you gasp his name, pointing to a pop-up shop you think he'll enjoy, only to turn and see your precious fishie pouting like a baby.
Is he in trouble? He doesn't give one crispy god damn care, how could you call him... Rafayel? He barely registers what you're saying, hand to his chest, glistening eyes frantically bouncing from point to point on the ground. He looks so sad, so confused, so hurt, you couldn't keep yelling at him, but once you approach him, concern curved softness returned to your voice, Rafayel will lift his eyes to meet yours, "So that's all I am to you? Rafayel?" He spits his name out like it's poison.
He could be blowing your back out to meet back up with you next week, and theeen maybe there can be an exception, but he will make sure you know that this is not a regular occurrence and isn't even guaranteed for every sexual encounter.
Rafayel has been known by many names and been many things to many people. The name Rafayel stains the tongue of some of the people he hates the most, strangers and acquaintances amd fans and colleagues, but a petname chosen by you for him specifically? It doesn't matter if it's generic, call him baby, he is baby and nothing else, until he follows your call into another lifetime. And god damn it, if next time you decide to call him fucking Lil Kitty Boy, then that's who he is. Whoever you want him to be.
an- What petname do yall think Rafayel would use? I feel like he's a babygirl user, it's playful and situationally versatile, but I think hehas a few in rotation
Satoru is the poster boy for unnerving blue eyes, even between your legs...
Satoru Gojo lives for startling you with his eyes out of nowhere. For example, he loves pulling your attention to him while his head is buried between your legs, long fingers and the lower half of his face drenched in your last orgasm. Sometimes, he'll flash you a dazzling smile, blindfold suddenly around his neck and his cum love drunk eyes meet yours, resulting in a flustered gasp leaving your lips as you look away from his magnificence.
Satoru loves to tease you when this happens, resting his head against your thigh as he taps his thumb against your clit. "Come on, pretty. I go through the trouble of trying to connect with you on a deeper level, and you can't even meet me halfway?" He's whining, but you can feel that cheeky smile of his pressing into you. Asshole.
There are times he likes to garner an entirely different reaction, though... like when he has your legs tossed over his huge shoulders and your head is thrown back in pleasure, mouth dropped open as you sing his praises. Satoru will grip your cheeks with one hand, "Nuh uh, look at me." His pretty girl. You're always so compliant. And when you open your eyes to look at him, Gojo stills, his exposed eyes wide and unblinking as he pulls in close to you, aqua beams outshining the moon filtering in through the blinds.
The look is... well, once you're done trying (and failing) to scramble out of his hold, Satoru throws his own head back, mocking chortles falling from his glossy lips. "Awwe, did I scare you?" He coos, resuming his thrusts, deviously increasing his speed, showing off his power. Gojo will fold you even further, nose to nose then as he purses his lips into a pout that doesn't reach his predatory, still fucking unblinking eyes, "I thought you said you liked my eyes?"
He's a menace, honestly. And if you think you'll be able to mention it to him, rest assured, he'll pretend it never happened. Delighted grin he refuses to hide making it clear he's just toying with you. He nods his head, emulating the therapists he's seen on tv as he listens to your complaint. "Ah, what can I say? The duality of man, yeah pretty?"
One thing I know, two things for certain, if the animators for jjk worked on season 2 with one hand occupied (they did), they better be holding utensils in their mouths and feet with this next season
It's against Choso's code to let you only cum once... • dry humping, p in v, overstimulation
CHOSO is so needy, so greedy, so giving, that if you ever wanna call it after just one orgasm, he whips out his puppy dog eyes, face nuzzled into the pocket of your neck, dragging his lips sloppily across the skin there as he holds you close and humps into your thighs as he asks you if he did anything wrong and makes sure to reaffirm his intentions too, with barely coherent mumbles of "Please b-baby, please let me give you more." He whines that last bit, knowing your pussy clenches every time he whines for you. And he’ll never hesitate to whine for your touch. Choso counts down the minutes, the fucking nanoseconds, to his opportunities to beg you to let him commit every millimeter of your being to his muscle memory, and relishes in moments like these. Moments where he can hold you closely in his firm grasp and show you how good he feels making you feel good. Moments where he can lick at your skin and whisper pleas of cumdrunk gratitude while his rutting hips finally find the angle that applies pressure in the perfect place, precum dripping from his tip so rapidly, he almost thinks he’s cumming. Each breathy huff of his against your neck pulls your mind further and further from any exhaustion or previous engagement. And each time, as payback, as you come up on every following orgasm, Choso tightens his bruising grip on your body and slams his throbbing cock into you so viciously your moans get knocked quiet. Once you're properly tired out and have been absolutely fucking devoured worshipped, Choso will lick you clean, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses up your body until your mouths are licking at each other's, his own swallowing your overstimulated whimpers as he lowers you onto his insatiable length. "Just wanna feel you while we rest princess." He'd promise, despite his hips already rocking at a slow pace.
- oral (f receiving), m masturbation, yall are still at work
author's note: I have been itching to write again and my pussy lips snatched my phone and wrote this before I could, sorry. Masterlist
Higuruma digs his fingers into the flesh of your ass, squishing his open mouth further into the warm, sticky plush between your legs. He doesn't know how long he's been sat beneath the front desk desperately making out with your weeping cunt. The robust flavor of your juices on his tongue make him feel like he can't have been indulging himself for less than a few hours, but the itch of need in his throat - the need throbbing at the front his dress slacks, make him feel as if he just slid his nose up the seam of your lips moments ago.
The flow of colleagues passing you on their way out of the office has long since trickled from a steady stream to an occasional overachiever warning you not to work too hard. Hiromi loves wrenching his tongue from the tight hold your walls have him clamped in to swipe at your clit when it comes your turn to wish them well in return. Your fingernails grazing against his scalp as you struggle to pass off your soft moan of pleasure as a studious sigh. The shaky quiver in your voice as you work to end each interaction as quickly as it begins.
The last thing you wanted was to be found out... or so you whined to Hiromi when he first pulled you into the copier room, cheeks flushed with desire, to beg for permission to ease your tension and his after a long day. But as the helpful new hire lingered at the desk to confirm your dazed expression wasn't an early set cold, the fresh wave of arousal drenching his face said differently.
Fighting to keep up a professional front as minutes pass with no reprieve and itching to have Hiromi where you can clean your essence off of his face in the sloppiest way possible, your grip in his hair turns rough. As much as you can, you hurriedly grind on Higuruma's flushed face. He finds it adorable, that you think you can rush him, under the impression that an orgasm will prompt him to drag you out to parking garage to your car. The soft chuckle the idea pulls from him vibrates against your clit, washing your orgasm over you in a wave of warmth.
While you struggle through your orgasm, Hiromi can't help but ease one of his hands into his pants to stroke at his weeping cock. The other pulls you closer to him before you can roll your chair back any. Your cum coating his tongue serves as as a stimulant to his already aroused motivation. He can't stop now.
You manage to pull back enough from the desk to look underneath at Higuruma, your initial goal to quietly scold him and shoo him out from between your trembling thighs, but when your cloudy tear-filled eyes meet Hiromi's dark, lazy gaze, the devious quirk at the corners of his still working mouth sends another wave of arousal pooling out of your fluttering cunt and into his desperate mouth. He can't stop now. And if he could, he wouldn't.
Okay Luffy girlies, I never really got it, but that “Come on heart, beat louder for me” + absolutely fucking AMAZING animation combination did have me 👀🤔
Warnings: Cursing, masturbation, reader is present in theory, maybe he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to say that
Author’s Note: I’m not necessarily a Toji girlie (don’t get me wrong, he fine as hell), but I’m a lil stuck on Abundance part 2 and got this quick lil idea. I hope y’all like it 😘 Masterlist
“Hey, make sure you didn’t leave any shit in my bathroom.” Toji calls out to the woman he hears opening the front door to commence her walk of shame. He doesn’t bother looking up to make sure she hears him - her snort and muttered “asshole” as she slams the door was enough to let him know she did - he’s too busy swiping through your latest post on Instagram. The events of the night before are documented on social media for him to see, and Toji finds his length twitching as he scrolls through the set of photos and sees the subtle wear and tear of your drinks and dancing.
Toji used to love when you came home, tipsy and craving to be stuffed until you couldn’t support your own weight anymore and were begging him to please please cum in you. By the time he reaches the final photo, his cock is standing stiff and needy and the rim of your glass is littered with what seems like dozens of lip stains matching your favorite lipstick, making him wish he could see the vibrant color stretched around the base of his cock.
Reaching into his pants to rub the head of his dick with his thumb the way you used to, Toji is hit with an idea, wicked and filthy, which makes it perfect for him. Peeling off his tight shirt, Toji pockets his phone and goes back to his room.
There were a lot of people who would blame Toji for your breakup. Something about nonchalance and jealousy don’t make a good mix and wandering eyes, blah blah blah. One thing no one who had ever spoken to Toji - or seen the way he looks at you - could refute, was that you had the tightest, wettest, warmest pussy he’d ever sunken into, and he’d do whatever he could to feel it again, to feel it now.
For a few ravenous weeks after the breakup, Toji could seduce you into his sheets. Sometimes he’d only have to send you a text in the dark of the night, others, he’d sneak up behind you in line at your regular cafe, placing his hand on your hip and pressing his bulge into your ass like you’d never broken up and he was convincing you to cancel your plans the spend the day in bed with him. In bed, in the tub, in the kitchen, on the floor on the way back to the bed - if he’d have you abandoning your day, he’d be sure to keep you busy. But then, one night, you didn’t respond at all, not even to tell him to get a life or just jerk off, it was just radio silence.
He knew why when the gossipy old greeter at the grocery store the next afternoon called out his name, a playful lilt to her voice, “I’m glad to see at least one of you is moving on. She looked so lovely and happy. Your ex-girlfriend. Expensive restaurant I saw ‘em at too. He must be rich.” Toji sneered at her delighted grin, “Shut up, you old cow.” He called over his shoulder, white hot heat building in his stomach. One date with some nice guy asshole and you can’t even respond to his texts? That’s what was rich, fuck that guy.
But then you stopped responding to any of Toji’s calls or texts, you wouldn’t even give in when he’d tease you about your new boyfriend. You’d even gone so far as to switch cafes so Toji couldn’t intercept your mornings anymore, and it made him furious. What, were you worried he’d convince you to abandon your morals? That he’d be able to pull you into him by your waist and nibble at your neck until you dumped that piece of shit with a video of Toji pounding into your pussy, your ass slapping against his thighs with wet squelches?
He gave up after a while, but a week ago, you publicly became a single woman again, posting your slutty little pictures in a dress your old boyfriend would have begged you to only wear at home, hence his current plan.
Whether you’d like to admit it or not, you craved the sweaty entanglement of your limbs, supplementing your air with his own while you ground yourself on his steadily leaking cock, Toji knows it. All this time, you’ve been unsatisfied, like him, heat building and only able to be extinguished by the other. And without a doubt, Toji was going to exploit your need however he needed, as long as he’d get to drench himself in your juices again.
Phone set up just right and recording his every move, Toji settles on his bed, propped up on his knees, unable to stop the mean chuckle that tumbles from his lips as he pulls his jogging pants just low enough to reveal his heavy balls, twitching at their base for you. As he braces himself with a strong hand on the bed, Toji grips his cock with the other, thrusting into his tight hold and remembering how you’d feel around him.
“Fuuck.” He moans, grunting through gritted teeth as he fights to keep a steady pace. There was a time where Toji teased you meanly for enjoying videos like these, soft, solo, and noisy. Now though, that he seeks to tempt you, he’s glad to know what you like, even if he thinks it’s stupid. What matters is exploding in you again, letting his thick cum build in you until there’s no doubt that he’d bound the two of you forever. Then, he could revel in holding your throat in his grasp and asking you in person if his precious slut was done showing her ass and finally ready to let the veiny surface of his cock leave an imprint in the slick pussy he calls home.
Thinking of being buried in you again lights an urgency in Toji - yeah, he feels good, but he’s ready to send this to you now. The sooner your thighs start to rub together at the sight of his leaking tip, the better. So, chasing the anticipation of fucking you until neither of you can remember how to separate, Toji begins to fuck into his fist rather than letting his calloused hand glide along his shaft, pretending to be yours.
The steadily growing pool of arousal gathering at the ridge of his head begins to produce an almost nostalgic squelching noise. Even more memories of you engulfing Toji’s angry, leaking cock wash over him, pushing a low groan from his throat. With both hands now stacking to cover his length, Toji transitions to irregular thrusts, letting his head fall back for a moment as another grunted, “Fuck.” leaves his lips alternating in a cycle just as irregular as his thrusts as he approaches his climax.
As he feels his balls swell, Toji ramps up his speed, envisioning the soft cock drunk smile you’ll give him in affirmation when he asks if you want more. You always take everything he gives you, for as long as he can give it to you. Always.
Toji almost gets overwhelmed by his orgasm, but he pushes forward, for you. Going back to one hand, Toji hisses quickly before releasing a throaty moan as his cum quickly begins to cover his hand, his continued thrusts smearing the arousal from his head to his base. By the time he’s finally milked himself dry, Toji feels almost lightheaded. He can’t help the dry laugh that passes his lips as he realizes just how much he came. He really really can’t wait to touch you again.
Looking up at the camera now, Toji’s lips stretch into a lazy smile, “‘S all for you, mama.” Toji stops the recording and cuts out the extra bits at the beginning and the end while also maneuvering cleaning himself off. As soon as the video saves, Toji pulls up your contact and sends you a text. He knows you - what you want and what you need - and now that he’s laid his bait, Toji can relax, collapsing down into his couch and waiting for you to bite.
And thankfully for him and his stirring cock, you do. Half an hour after sending the video, Toji’s phone buzzes beside him.
I’ll be home in 20, come meet me. Show up late, and I won’t let you in.
A/N: The way I drool for this man 🥵😮💨 but this is a little lead up teaser to the actual fic that will be coming soon, but part 2 for Abundance (Gojo) will probably come out first. I just had to write a lil somethin for my mans
* Choso is really just bored and scrolling through his new phone when he comes across your dance group. You’re all swaying and… bouncing, and Choso already thinks he’s paying all of the attention he can, but then you all shift again and you move to the front of the group.
* He has to take his lower lip between his teeth to muffle the groan he releases, eyes shooting to the door to make sure his younger brother isn’t standing in the doorway, laughing at how pathetic he’s being. Once the coast is clear, Choso sinks lower into his chair, making room in his jogging pants for all of his attention.
* Choso finishes out the video, eyes following your journey in the group rotation and his free hand idly massaging his growing length.
* As soon as the video ends, Choso stumbles his way to your profile and immediately clicks the follow button before scrolling through and letting wetness pool in his mouth and on his tip with each new like he delivers.
* He likes every post dating back to a month and a half ago, every day harboring at least two posts.
* His dick, very unsatisfied with the slow, torturous embrace, begins to twitch angrily when he watches a video of you and your dance group announcing that you got hired to dance with a famous performer on tour.
* He’ll be able to see you in person next summer.
* His imagination gets the best of him then, phone dropping onto the carpet beneath his feet as his hand begins moving faster and his eyes drift closed. The video of you dancing to the seductive song in your gym shorts and large tee shirt by yourself in the mirrored studio plays behind Choso’s eyelids, except this time, his hands grip at your warm hips tightly, following your movements rather than the music. Feeling the rhythm in your breaths.
* Choso’s hips begin to meet the needy pumping of his fist, his mouth dropping open to release a low, breathy groan on an exhale as he imagines the steady slapping sound instead coming from your ass clapping back on him as his dick swells inside of you.
* The soft pants you huff out as the music fades and the video loops again pushes Choso over the edge, his grip getting tighter and thrusts getting erratic at the thought of you humming and panting in the same way after you cum all over his cock, drenching and milking him as his chasing his own high begins to overstimulate you.
* “Mmm, so perfect. So pretty for me.” He groans out, praising the teary eyed version of you behind his eyelids as he shoots cum all over his sweatshirt, his hand getting a decent coating as he comes down from his high.
* Choso feels a little embarrassed now, alone in his room covered in cum. But even more than that, he’s determined to see you live and up close.
* He has to remove his hand from his cock before he can lose control again.
* After cleaning up and hand washing his sweatshirt before putting it in the hamper, Choso finds Yuuji. He needs to know everything Todo knows about seeing a star live.
Warnings/Content: 18+ only cursing, praise kink, some spit (not spit play), blowjob, toy usage, joint (that isn’t relevant until part 2), deep throat, cum eating (both), dirty talk, pet names (baby, pretty girl), porn with plot
Author’s Note: well fuck. I got sick as hell and it pushed back all of my kinktober work. I’ll still publish them all, they’ll just be coming out in through November. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and let me know if you’d like to be tagged in Part 2
Part 1 | Part 2
•••
You gnaw on the skin at the edge of your thumb nail nervously as you look at the shoddy, yet well intentioned miniature hut you’ve built with the help of YouTube, 20 minutes of sleep, and the 4 shots of tequila you guzzled to quell your anxieties after said 20 minutes. If we’re being honest, it doesn’t seem like the kind of offering a deity of abundance would really like, but it’s the best you could do, and you cross your fingers and snap a picture, hoping it’ll be enough.
Not even 5 minutes after sending your photo does your phone ping with Shoko’s personalized ringtone.
It’s kinda plain. Put some flowers or something. Or a money tree… duh
You grumble at the message, but still jump up and throw your feet into two mismatched shoes before sneaking out to your apartment courtyard and ripping some of the flowers from the display out front. Crouched down, you check to see if anyone is around again, the jumbo beads on the ends of your braids clatter and nearly erase any semblance of stealth that you have as you rush back into your apartment, not even breathing until your back is flat against your door.
Looking at your cozy one bedroom with fresh eyes, you notice that not only is your hut plain, but it’s also sitting on your coffee table where no sun can reach it. Taking your thumb back into your mouth, you kick off your fuzzy slide and wedge sandal and get to arranging in a way that will hopefully make Shoko proud.
She’s an expert by zero means at all. She really just sent you the first abundance ritual post that popped up on Pinterest after listening to you freak out about how long you and your colleagues have been striking at the office and what are you going to do with only a side hustle and a half? You’re both as knowledgeable as each other when it comes to summoning anything but a free drink at a club, but only one of you thought to check Pinterest and now maybe the other one is looking for some validation because even if it’s shoddy, she worked really hard and would like to hear that she did good.
So though you send the photo of your hut, now preciously decorated with maybe too many flowers and sitting in the sun with only a “Fuck you, she’s pretty 🥹”, Shoko is quick with her reply, knowing exactly what you’re looking for.
Much better, very pretty. You did a pretty good job honestly.
The praise has a smile growing wide on your face, you did do a pretty good job for your first go at it. You stayed up all night and even added a few symbols (sigils? Fuck if you know) to the bottom for good measure. That kind of dedication deserves a reward, so you decide to take yourself out on a date. These have been a hard few weeks and until the deity, fairy, or whoever does it, you will give yourself an abundance. Of love and care that is.
As you return home an hour or two after the sun has set with two handfuls of bags and leftovers from your lunch with Shoko, you feel satisfied, maybe this was the work of your sweet little hut. “Give back to the universe what it gave to you.” You whisper before places a small wet kiss to the smooth, misshapen roof of what you have now decided to call a cottage, potentially thanks to a few dinner mimosas that were not your idea, but we’re happily consumed.
With your day having been lived and the universe having received your thanks, early or otherwise, you drop your clothing and beauty supply bags beside your couch and set your leftovers on the counter to wait for you until after your shower. You let out a long groan of anticipation as you try to undress without the hands currently pushing your braids into your bonnet.
You’re absolutely right to anticipate your shower. The steaming water is loosening knots in your shoulders you didn’t even notice were there. Just as you go to reach for your body wash and wash rag, a shiver runs down your spine and ends as a warm buzz between your legs. The intensity catches you by surprise, almost making you slip out of your bathtub and wiping away your soft intoxication.
Catching yourself quickly, you push your urges down, you have plans for her already; leftovers, specialty ice cream, a rose-petal wrapped joint, and the cute little rose toy you picked up today. It’s nothing fancy, but you figure that your date should end the right way, and you deserve to be wined and dined before putting yourself to sleep as you throughly plan to. It’s hard, let’s not downplay the severity of this arousal, you’re stalled for nearly two entire minutes, fearing any movement right now ruining your plans, but your brain wins and you’re able to finish your shower with major discomfort, but no worries.
Out of your shower and donned in your favorite panties and flirty nightgown, you begin to set up your bedroom for your eventful night, lighting candles and putting your comfort show on the television all of your friends hate that you keep in your room (until they’re all staying over) while your leftovers spin in your microwave. All the while, you can’t get rid of the infuriating itch in your lower belly, demanding attention. “Guess abundance can mean anything.” You mutter as you cut your eyes over to your cottage while removing your food from the microwave.
There’s no one to blame but yourself, you figure as you shut off the rest of the lights in your apartment, and while the abundance isn’t fully working out how you want right now… that doesn’t mean you won’t wake up to a 30 million dollar check in the mail from a secret admirer.
Though you don’t have time to be amused by your thoughts, instead, you’re frozen in your doorway, petrified by the two icy blue eyes glowing in the darkest corner of your room. As your eyes meet, another wave of arousal rushes over you, threatening to knock you off of your feet, but you’ll be damned if you drop your leftovers, opting instead to squeeze your thighs together softly as his mouth cracks open into a wide smile, teeth just as bright as his eyes.
The man begins to approach you, each step feeling like a vibration in your core, and as your mind reels, you figure that he has to be the deity. Granted, now that he’s out of the darkness, he does look good enough to eat - tall and lean, black dress pants running along the incredible length of his legs to gleaming shoes and a white button-up shirt that looks soft enough to wrap your pillow in, just enough buttons open to show the peek of a silver necklace glinting beneath - but you’d be lying if you said you thought a real person could turn you on to this extent. He stops once the cool tips of his shoes rest against your toes, his burning gaze lazily dropping to the soft pink polish on your toes before dragging its way up past the hem of your nightgown to your chest, lingering there as his Cheshire smile grows even wider and his eyes make one final jump to meet yours. “Hey.”
Having him so close to you is an adjustment you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to make as you feel your pussy flutter around nothing. You have no idea what to say in response, and before you can think about it, or simply whimper instead, your mouth moves without your permission, “Are you a fairy?”
The man throws his head back in a boisterous laugh, his lower lip poking out in a mocking pout when he meets your eyes again, “Awe, pretty girl,” A cool thumb caresses your cheek, your body still adjusting to his pressure, “Were you supposed to be summoning a fairy?” Nodding, your shoulder lifts in a halfhearted shrug, “Or a deity. Of um, of abundance.”
He removes his hand from your face and clicks his tongue, not relinquishing his pout as he pulls one of your cottage flowers from his pocket. “And here I thought you were trying to set the mood.” As he maneuvers the flower behind your ear, you realize that you hadn’t even noticed that his pockets were stuffed with all of the flowers you’d set up to welcome… whatever he was. Luckily, he answers your question after plucking the long stem from the flower behind your ear, “My name is Gojo Satoru, and I am the finest incubus you can summon.”
You’re not given much time to process, your confused (and betrayed) gaze still out of your bedroom door and set on the naked cottage as Gojo takes your hand and pulls you towards your bed. He takes a seat on the edge, releasing a hum of delighted satisfaction at the soft bounce, and rests you so you’re standing between his open legs, the tv flickering colors across his face, all paling in comparison to his eyes. “I summoned a demon?” Gojo nods, smile ever present and hand not yet leaving yours, “Can incubi also bring money?”
Gojo chuckles, “You ask a lot of questions don’t you?” He pulls another flower from his pocket and rips the stem off with his teeth before placing behind his own ear, “I’ll answer that one and any others you’re allowed to ask until we’re done, okay?” His okay is punctuated by his hand releasing yours and instead mirroring his other to slowly trail up your legs and beneath your nightgown.
“For starters, you’re gonna call me Satoru tonight, or however much of it you’re able to get out later.” A cheeky smirk as he looks up at you through his frosty lashes makes you want to feel his mouth on you and see if it’s as chilled as the rest of him is, but he’s also a demon, so using your newly mastered skill of beating your desires back until you just barely have control, you nod and clench your thighs again, “Okay, Satoru.” His hands have reached the hem of your panties now, fingers bunching the material until he clasps the entire sides in both hands, “Good! Now, as far as money goes, usually, no, but, if you’re a good girl for me, I just might reconsider.”
If you weren’t already struggling to keep your breath softer than a pant, you’d probably be embarrassed at how your legs quiver at the label, especially when Satoru acknowledges the shake with a groan deep in his chest and the tortuously slow descent of your panties, which he follows with the burial of his nose in the crevice between your thighs over your nightgown. After he finishes a deep breath, he releases your panties to land on the floor and catches his bottom lip between his teeth as he chuckles again. “I’m a demon, not a monster, you’re not in any danger.” The end of the statement is very pointed, Satoru’s eyes serious as he says it, though they soften again when you nod, some of the returned tension in your shoulders dropping with the motion of your head.
Satoru’s icy hands have made their way back up your legs, his fingers digging into your ass as he kneads the fat of it, the crotch of his pants tightening in response, “Last answer, no more questions til we’re done; I don’t care about your neighbors, don’t muffle any of the sounds you make. I know I won’t be, so it’ll be a waste if you try.” While you heard Satoru, your entire body’s attention has been focused on his cock trying to break through the zipper of his pants, and with one more nod, this one much less invested than your prior, you drop to your knees in front of Satoru. He goes to protest, but you offer a silent trade, offering him your leftovers, though he doesn’t take the plate until you pull your lust blown eyes from the growing tent in his pants to meet his own. Once your eyes meet, Satoru laughs, almost giddy, and takes your plate, “Are you repaying me for earlier?”
Your fingers fumble with his pants, your anticipation so high, you can barely function. You have to taste him, and you most definitely have to do it now, besides, Satoru is counting on you to be a good girl for him, “I’m gonna try.” You mutter as you finally get his pants undone. Satoru takes a forkful of leftovers into his mouth, those paralyzing eyes of his focused on you.
Taking a note from Satoru’s book, you slowly, tortuously pull his pants down, your lips leaving wet kisses along his snowy happy trail. Satoru is about to say something else, but you finally get his pants down low enough to see he isn’t wearing any underwear beneath his perfectly tailored pants and lick a path from one side of his pelvis to the other, forcing him to cut off whatever he was going to say with a breathy groan.
The noise makes you impatient, yanking Satoru’s pants just low enough for his cock to come springing up onto his stomach, long veiny, and begging to be touched. Flicking your eyes up to his flushed face, you guide his tip into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and pushing your tongue against the sensitive skin just beneath the head of his cock, a smile constricting your mouth even more when the repeated motion causes Satoru to flop back onto your bed with a long whine.
Taking a deep breath in through your nose while you can, you glide his twitching length over your tongue until the cool, yet angry red tip pushes at the back of your throat. The entirety of Satoru can’t fit into your mouth, the very base of him eluding the warm wet embrace, so to make up for it, you sit up on your knees and extend your tongue to lick what your lips can’t reach, spit pooling into the short shorn hairs you can’t quite bury your nose into. Now Satoru moans, low and lulling, setting your plate beside himself on your bed and tossing his head back. As you lift your mouth from his cock slowly, tongue lazily dragging behind, Satoru’s breaths turn into shallow pants. You can’t remember the last time you wanted to savor something so badly, or the last time you wanted to devour something so grossly it’d be hard to look your mother in the eye. Satoru is using one hand to push his fluffy hair off of his forehead and the other is lying limp over the edge of your bed. His moans and whines have your pussy clenching and dripping, aching for the relief that comes when you slip two of your fingers into your heat.
As the stimulation on your g-spot and the dizzying heat of Satoru’s slack jawed stare make you moan around the head of his cock, you suddenly drop your mouth back down on him until his spongy head makes harsh contact with the back of your throat. The feeling pulls a deep growl from Satoru, the edges of his licked lips curling as you repeat the motion, building a steady pace of slow ascension and burning descent until the sounds of your clattering beads, moans, and squelches of your fingers fidgeting in your pussy are joined by the wet, choked cry forced from your lips every time you make that bruising collision.
“So good, baby. You’re doing so good for me.” Satoru praises you, reaching for something on the small end table beside your bed, sharp blue eyes still trained on you and summoning another wave of arousal over your curling fingers. You moan at the feeling, air in the room growing thick and Satoru sits up now, resting his weight on his left arm as he extends the other to you, revealing your new toy. You still your movements, your aching throat enjoying the reprieve as you gaze up at Satoru, eyebrows scrunched in confusion and your tongue lazily sliding along his twitching length. “I wanna taste you while I fuck your mouth, pretty girl, you can use this.”
You don’t go to move for the toy, not because you don’t want to, of course, but once again, as your eyes flicker from his open hand to his face, his eyes, your body’s actions seem to be incredibly limited, only allowing for your pussy to clench tighter around your fingers and your mouth to release a needy whine around Satoru’s cock. Hissing at the vibration, his expression gets serious, “Take it and use it. Give me your hand.” His demand turns your brain back on and you pull your fingers out of yourself with a loud pop, your wetness dripping onto the floor as you present your sticky fingers to Satoru, your other hand dropping into his own to drunkenly grasp the pink toy.
Satoru is smiling again, pulling another cock muffled whimper from you, “Awe, baby, is that all for me?” He coos, cheeks flushed as he licks at some of the sticky arousal that has dripped down to your wrist. You nod, needy moans and whimpers leaving your mouth more often than breath at the moment, and your heat missing something to grip as Satoru’s eyes roll back into his head as he groans hungrily at the taste of you. When his eyes meet yours again, they’re dark and hazy, almost making his cheeky grin look ravenous, devilish. “You should have told me you tasted so good.” He doesn’t leave any room for response - not that you really could in your state anyway - before his head gestures to your hand, still lying in his, “Use your rose, pretty girl. I want you to cum with me.”
Now that your new toy is turned on and pressed against your clit, Satoru gently grips the back of your neck, his thumb gently stroking the skin behind your ear as he savors the taste of your arousal on your fingers, “Relax your mouth, baby, okay?” This time, Satoru let’s you nod in response before his grip on your neck tightens and he thrusts his hips so he hits the back of your throat again, the sensation making you both moan loudly. He barely pulls back before plunging his cold cock head right back into the increasingly more sensitive spot. Relentless, Satoru keeps his pace, whimpering broken fragments of praises and your name as he sucks and licks at your hand, cleaning you up with a greedy attention to detail that almost makes you wish he was licking into you in tandem with the you making your thighs shake.
Almost. But as Satoru’s thrusts begin to speed up and his licks begin to turn into dragging bites to your palm, you relish in the feeling of having his heavy cock twitch in your warm mouth and his balls gathering and spreading the drool seeping out of your mouth with loud slaps. He’s loud, he’s rough, he’s greedy, and as Gojo Satoru clenches his jaw and interlocks your fingers, begging you to cum with him and telling you how good you feel, you’re sure he’s also absolutely divine. His lidded eyes and slack jaw are enough to have you clenching your thighs and moaning loud and long as your orgasm crashes over you, so strong your vision goes white for a moment.
Satoru lets out a low broken moan as he watches your orgasm rush through you, contorting your face and constricting your mouth around him. His short fingernails are digging temporary crescents into the back of your neck as he holds you down on his cock as far as he can manage, “Eyes up here. Watch what you do to me.” Satoru waits patiently, grinding into your mouth slow and hard until you’re able to lull your eyes back to his.
As soon as you make eye contact, Satoru reaffirms his grip on your neck and begins to piston his hips, making his earlier pace seem geriatric. “Fuck, been so good for me, haven’t you?” Satoru pants out, voice soft and raspy. You hum an acknowledgement around him, a nod barely able to be formed due to Satoru’s rapid thrusting, but your whiny confirmation, the beg for his approval buzzing around his aching cock is all Satoru needs. With his jaw slack to release a loud throaty moan and his snowy eyelashes fluttering, Satoru cums down your throat, warm and so, so filling. As he twitches against your tongue, holding you so far down his length tears slip between your lips and add to the salty flavor of him filling your mouth, Satoru chuckles breathlessly, “That’s right… take it all.”
Satoru doesn’t let his hefty cock slip out of your mouth until you’ve swallowed all of the cum he gave you. Untangling your hands, Satoru pulls you up so you’re straddling his lap and he sets to wiping the tears from your cheeks and sweeping the cum that seeped out of the corners of your mouth up with his thumb. “Open up, pretty girl, you’ve got leftovers.” Satoru coos, the cheeky tone he never abandons for long makes you huff in soft indignation, but the compliment has you moving forward to suck the digit into your mouth, being sure to clean it of Satoru’s salty cum, eyes closing at the flavor and pussy fluttering again.
Opening your mouth to release Satoru’s thumb, you rub yourself against his still stiff member, subconsciously scratching the itch he seems capable of continually causing, “I wanna do that again.” You’re insatiable as you hump your way through your sentence, wanting him so badly you can’t stop yourself from gripping his shirt so tightly your knuckles hurt as you run your clit over his bulbous head, high pitched whimpers falling from your lips at every pass.
You lean in to kiss Satoru and lick the smug grin off of his face, but he moves away, reveling in how your pout after chasing his lips doesn’t result in him meeting you excitedly, tongue startlingly warm and licking a path through your mouth. “No baby,” Satoru flips you effortlessly, standing to slowly discard his clothes as he watches you rub your thighs together, “Now I do my job.” Fully naked, adorned only in the thin, glistening chain and the securely placed flower he set behind his ear earlier, Satoru creeps himself up the bed towards you.
One sloppy kiss after another, Satoru hums his way up your body. As he’s passing by your pussy, Satoru pushes your thighs open and with his tongue flat, he licks one mean stripe up your slit before abandoning your lips entirely and setting to nibbling at your neck. Before you can protest though, Satoru slips one of his long fingers into you, immediately curling to where you’re most sensitive, “You gonna be loud for me while I fuck you full, pretty girl?”
Thotum/Late Kinktober Posts In My Drafts Currently
Minors, do not interact, this is 18+ only
* Abundance part 2, incubus!Satoru finished what he started, with lots of praise. And lots and lots of praise
* Fatgum trick or treating event where a villain crashes the fun for your students and there is so so much praise again because I love him so much
* CHOSO X BLACK!FEM!DANCER and when I say homeboy might rival Todo in his idolization 💋👌🏾 as you can see, I’m a lil feral for Choso and his praise because once again, so much praise
* Uhtred scaring some newcomers with his lil death rider trick, and we all know Uhtred is nothing if not a loving lil praise giver (and receiver)
Plus a few requests I think will be a lot of fun and I’m open to/for more
Warnings/Content: cursing, praise kink, some spit (not spit play), blowjob, toy usage, joint (that isn’t relevant until part 2), deep throat, cum eating (both), dirty talk, pet names (baby, pretty girl), porn with plot
Author’s Note: well fuck. I got sick as hell and it pushed back all of my kinktober work. I’ll still publish them all, they’ll just be coming out in through November. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and let me know if you’d like to be tagged in Part 2
Part 1 | Part 2 | Masterlist
You gnaw on the skin at the edge of your thumb nail nervously as you look at the shoddy, yet well intentioned miniature hut you’ve built with the help of YouTube, 20 minutes of sleep, and the 4 shots of tequila you guzzled to quell your anxieties after said 20 minutes. If we’re being honest, it doesn’t seem like the kind of offering a deity of abundance would really like, but it’s the best you could do, and you cross your fingers and snap a picture, hoping it’ll be enough.
Not even 5 minutes after sending your photo does your phone ping with Shoko’s personalized ringtone.
It’s kinda plain. Put some flowers or something. Or a money tree… duh
You grumble at the message, but still jump up and throw your feet into two mismatched shoes before sneaking out to your apartment courtyard and ripping some of the flowers from the display out front. Crouched down, you check to see if anyone is around again, the jumbo beads on the ends of your braids clatter and nearly erase any semblance of stealth that you have as you rush back into your apartment, not even breathing until your back is flat against your door.
Looking at your cozy one bedroom with fresh eyes, you notice that not only is your hut plain, but it’s also sitting on your coffee table where no sun can reach it. Taking your thumb back into your mouth, you kick off your fuzzy slide and wedge sandal and get to arranging in a way that will hopefully make Shoko proud.
She’s an expert by zero means at all. She really just sent you the first abundance ritual post that popped up on Pinterest after listening to you freak out about how long you and your colleagues have been striking at the office and what are you going to do with only a side hustle and a half? You’re both as knowledgeable as each other when it comes to summoning anything but a free drink at a club, but only one of you thought to check Pinterest and now maybe the other one is looking for some validation because even if it’s shoddy, she worked really hard and would like to hear that she did good.
So though you send the photo of your hut, now preciously decorated with maybe too many flowers and sitting in the sun with only a “Fuck you, she’s pretty 🥹”, Shoko is quick with her reply, knowing exactly what you’re looking for.
Much better, very pretty. You did a pretty good job honestly.
The praise has a smile growing wide on your face, you did do a pretty good job for your first go at it. You stayed up all night and even added a few symbols (sigils? Fuck if you know) to the bottom for good measure. That kind of dedication deserves a reward, so you decide to take yourself out on a date. These have been a hard few weeks and until the deity, fairy, or whoever does it, you will give yourself an abundance. Of love and care that is.
As you return home an hour or two after the sun has set with two handfuls of bags and leftovers from your lunch with Shoko, you feel satisfied, maybe this was the work of your sweet little hut. “Give back to the universe what it gave to you.” You whisper before places a small wet kiss to the smooth, misshapen roof of what you have now decided to call a cottage, potentially thanks to a few dinner mimosas that were not your idea, but we’re happily consumed.
With your day having been lived and the universe having received your thanks, early or otherwise, you drop your clothing and beauty supply bags beside your couch and set your leftovers on the counter to wait for you until after your shower. You let out a long groan of anticipation as you try to undress without the hands currently pushing your braids into your bonnet.
You’re absolutely right to anticipate your shower. The steaming water is loosening knots in your shoulders you didn’t even notice were there. Just as you go to reach for your body wash and wash rag, a shiver runs down your spine and ends as a warm buzz between your legs. The intensity catches you by surprise, almost making you slip out of your bathtub and wiping away your soft intoxication.
Catching yourself quickly, you push your urges down, you have plans for her already; leftovers, specialty ice cream, a rose-petal wrapped joint, and the cute little rose toy you picked up today. It’s nothing fancy, but you figure that your date should end the right way, and you deserve to be wined and dined before putting yourself to sleep as you throughly plan to. It’s hard, let’s not downplay the severity of this arousal, you’re stalled for nearly two entire minutes, fearing any movement right now ruining your plans, but your brain wins and you’re able to finish your shower with major discomfort, but no worries.
Out of your shower and donned in your favorite panties and flirty nightgown, you begin to set up your bedroom for your eventful night, lighting candles and putting your comfort show on the television all of your friends hate that you keep in your room (until they’re all staying over) while your leftovers spin in your microwave. All the while, you can’t get rid of the infuriating itch in your lower belly, demanding attention. “Guess abundance can mean anything.” You mutter as you cut your eyes over to your cottage while removing your food from the microwave.
There’s no one to blame but yourself, you figure as you shut off the rest of the lights in your apartment, and while the abundance isn’t fully working out how you want right now… that doesn’t mean you won’t wake up to a 30 million dollar check in the mail from a secret admirer.
Though you don’t have time to be amused by your thoughts, instead, you’re frozen in your doorway, petrified by the two icy blue eyes glowing in the darkest corner of your room. As your eyes meet, another wave of arousal rushes over you, threatening to knock you off of your feet, but you’ll be damned if you drop your leftovers, opting instead to squeeze your thighs together softly as his mouth cracks open into a wide smile, teeth just as bright as his eyes.
The man begins to approach you, each step feeling like a vibration in your core, and as your mind reels, you figure that he has to be the deity. Granted, now that he’s out of the darkness, he does look good enough to eat - tall and lean, black dress pants running along the incredible length of his legs to gleaming shoes and a white button-up shirt that looks soft enough to wrap your pillow in, just enough buttons open to show the peek of a silver necklace glinting beneath - but you’d be lying if you said you thought a real person could turn you on to this extent. He stops once the cool tips of his shoes rest against your toes, his burning gaze lazily dropping to the soft pink polish on your toes before dragging its way up past the hem of your nightgown to your chest, lingering there as his Cheshire smile grows even wider and his eyes make one final jump to meet yours. “Hey.”
Having him so close to you is an adjustment you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to make as you feel your pussy flutter around nothing. You have no idea what to say in response, and before you can think about it, or simply whimper instead, your mouth moves without your permission, “Are you a fairy?”
The man throws his head back in a boisterous laugh, his lower lip poking out in a mocking pout when he meets your eyes again, “Awe, pretty girl,” A cool thumb caresses your cheek, your body still adjusting to his pressure, “Were you supposed to be summoning a fairy?” Nodding, your shoulder lifts in a halfhearted shrug, “Or a deity. Of um, of abundance.”
He removes his hand from your face and clicks his tongue, not relinquishing his pout as he pulls one of your cottage flowers from his pocket. “And here I thought you were trying to set the mood.” As he maneuvers the flower behind your ear, you realize that you hadn’t even noticed that his pockets were stuffed with all of the flowers you’d set up to welcome… whatever he was. Luckily, he answers your question after plucking the long stem from the flower behind your ear, “My name is Gojo Satoru, and I am the finest incubus you can summon.”
You’re not given much time to process, your confused (and betrayed) gaze still out of your bedroom door and set on the naked cottage as Gojo takes your hand and pulls you towards your bed. He takes a seat on the edge, releasing a hum of delighted satisfaction at the soft bounce, and rests you so you’re standing between his open legs, the tv flickering colors across his face, all paling in comparison to his eyes. “I summoned a demon?” Gojo nods, smile ever present and hand not yet leaving yours, “Can incubi also bring money?”
Gojo chuckles, “You ask a lot of questions don’t you?” He pulls another flower from his pocket and rips the stem off with his teeth before placing behind his own ear, “I’ll answer that one and any others you’re allowed to ask until we’re done, okay?” His okay is punctuated by his hand releasing yours and instead mirroring his other to slowly trail up your legs and beneath your nightgown.
“For starters, you’re gonna call me Satoru tonight, or however much of it you’re able to get out later.” A cheeky smirk as he looks up at you through his frosty lashes makes you want to feel his mouth on you and see if it’s as chilled as the rest of him is, but he’s also a demon, so using your newly mastered skill of beating your desires back until you just barely have control, you nod and clench your thighs again, “Okay, Satoru.” His hands have reached the hem of your panties now, fingers bunching the material until he clasps the entire sides in both hands, “Good! Now, as far as money goes, usually, no, but, if you’re a good girl for me, I just might reconsider.”
If you weren’t already struggling to keep your breath softer than a pant, you’d probably be embarrassed at how your legs quiver at the label, especially when Satoru acknowledges the shake with a groan deep in his chest and the tortuously slow descent of your panties, which he follows with the burial of his nose in the crevice between your thighs over your nightgown. After he finishes a deep breath, he releases your panties to land on the floor and catches his bottom lip between his teeth as he chuckles again. “I’m a demon, not a monster, you’re not in any danger.” The end of the statement is very pointed, Satoru’s eyes serious as he says it, though they soften again when you nod, some of the returned tension in your shoulders dropping with the motion of your head.
Satoru’s icy hands have made their way back up your legs, his fingers digging into your ass as he kneads the fat of it, the crotch of his pants tightening in response, “Last answer, no more questions til we’re done; I don’t care about your neighbors, don’t muffle any of the sounds you make. I know I won’t be, so it’ll be a waste if you try.” While you heard Satoru, your entire body’s attention has been focused on his cock trying to break through the zipper of his pants, and with one more nod, this one much less invested than your prior, you drop to your knees in front of Satoru. He goes to protest, but you offer a silent trade, offering him your leftovers, though he doesn’t take the plate until you pull your lust blown eyes from the growing tent in his pants to meet his own. Once your eyes meet, Satoru laughs, almost giddy, and takes your plate, “Are you repaying me for earlier?”
Your fingers fumble with his pants, your anticipation so high, you can barely function. You have to taste him, and you most definitely have to do it now, besides, Satoru is counting on you to be a good girl for him, “I’m gonna try.” You mutter as you finally get his pants undone. Satoru takes a forkful of leftovers into his mouth, those paralyzing eyes of his focused on you.
Taking a note from Satoru’s book, you slowly, tortuously pull his pants down, your lips leaving wet kisses along his snowy happy trail. Satoru is about to say something else, but you finally get his pants down low enough to see he isn’t wearing any underwear beneath his perfectly tailored pants and lick a path from one side of his pelvis to the other, forcing him to cut off whatever he was going to say with a breathy groan.
The noise makes you impatient, yanking Satoru’s pants just low enough for his cock to come springing up onto his stomach, long veiny, and begging to be touched. Flicking your eyes up to his flushed face, you guide his tip into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and pushing your tongue against the sensitive skin just beneath the head of his cock, a smile constricting your mouth even more when the repeated motion causes Satoru to flop back onto your bed with a long whine.
Taking a deep breath in through your nose while you can, you glide his twitching length over your tongue until the cool, yet angry red tip pushes at the back of your throat. The entirety of Satoru can’t fit into your mouth, the very base of him eluding the warm wet embrace, so to make up for it, you sit up on your knees and extend your tongue to lick what your lips can’t reach, spit pooling into the short shorn hairs you can’t quite bury your nose into. Now Satoru moans, low and lulling, setting your plate beside himself on your bed and tossing his head back. As you lift your mouth from his cock slowly, tongue lazily dragging behind, Satoru’s breaths turn into shallow pants. You can’t remember the last time you wanted to savor something so badly, or the last time you wanted to devour something so grossly it’d be hard to look your mother in the eye. Satoru is using one hand to push his fluffy hair off of his forehead and the other is lying limp over the edge of your bed. His moans and whines have your pussy clenching and dripping, aching for the relief that comes when you slip two of your fingers into your heat.
As the stimulation on your g-spot and the dizzying heat of Satoru’s slack jawed stare make you moan around the head of his cock, you suddenly drop your mouth back down on him until his spongy head makes harsh contact with the back of your throat. The feeling pulls a deep growl from Satoru, the edges of his licked lips curling as you repeat the motion, building a steady pace of slow ascension and burning descent until the sounds of your clattering beads, moans, and squelches of your fingers fidgeting in your pussy are joined by the wet, choked cry forced from your lips every time you make that bruising collision.
“So good, baby. You’re doing so good for me.” Satoru praises you, reaching for something on the small end table beside your bed, sharp blue eyes still trained on you and summoning another wave of arousal over your curling fingers. You moan at the feeling, air in the room growing thick and Satoru sits up now, resting his weight on his left arm as he extends the other to you, revealing your new toy. You still your movements, your aching throat enjoying the reprieve as you gaze up at Satoru, eyebrows scrunched in confusion and your tongue lazily sliding along his twitching length. “I wanna taste you while I fuck your mouth, pretty girl, you can use this.”
You don’t go to move for the toy, not because you don’t want to, of course, but once again, as your eyes flicker from his open hand to his face, his eyes, your body’s actions seem to be incredibly limited, only allowing for your pussy to clench tighter around your fingers and your mouth to release a needy whine around Satoru’s cock. Hissing at the vibration, his expression gets serious, “Take it and use it. Give me your hand.” His demand turns your brain back on and you pull your fingers out of yourself with a loud pop, your wetness dripping onto the floor as you present your sticky fingers to Satoru, your other hand dropping into his own to drunkenly grasp the pink toy.
Satoru is smiling again, pulling another cock muffled whimper from you, “Awe, baby, is that all for me?” He coos, cheeks flushed as he licks at some of the sticky arousal that has dripped down to your wrist. You nod, needy moans and whimpers leaving your mouth more often than breath at the moment, and your heat missing something to grip as Satoru’s eyes roll back into his head as he groans hungrily at the taste of you. When his eyes meet yours again, they’re dark and hazy, almost making his cheeky grin look ravenous, devilish. “You should have told me you tasted so good.” He doesn’t leave any room for response - not that you really could in your state anyway - before his head gestures to your hand, still lying in his, “Use your rose, pretty girl. I want you to cum with me.”
Now that your new toy is turned on and pressed against your clit, Satoru gently grips the back of your neck, his thumb gently stroking the skin behind your ear as he savors the taste of your arousal on your fingers, “Relax your mouth, baby, okay?” This time, Satoru let’s you nod in response before his grip on your neck tightens and he thrusts his hips so he hits the back of your throat again, the sensation making you both moan loudly. He barely pulls back before plunging his cold cock head right back into the increasingly more sensitive spot. Relentless, Satoru keeps his pace, whimpering broken fragments of praises and your name as he sucks and licks at your hand, cleaning you up with a greedy attention to detail that almost makes you wish he was licking into you in tandem with the you making your thighs shake.
Almost. But as Satoru’s thrusts begin to speed up and his licks begin to turn into dragging bites to your palm, you relish in the feeling of having his heavy cock twitch in your warm mouth and his balls gathering and spreading the drool seeping out of your mouth with loud slaps. He’s loud, he’s rough, he’s greedy, and as Gojo Satoru clenches his jaw and interlocks your fingers, begging you to cum with him and telling you how good you feel, you’re sure he’s also absolutely divine. His lidded eyes and slack jaw are enough to have you clenching your thighs and moaning loud and long as your orgasm crashes over you, so strong your vision goes white for a moment.
Satoru lets out a low broken moan as he watches your orgasm rush through you, contorting your face and constricting your mouth around him. His short fingernails are digging temporary crescents into the back of your neck as he holds you down on his cock as far as he can manage, “Eyes up here. Watch what you do to me.” Satoru waits patiently, grinding into your mouth slow and hard until you’re able to lull your eyes back to his.
As soon as you make eye contact, Satoru reaffirms his grip on your neck and begins to piston his hips, making his earlier pace seem geriatric. “Fuck, been so good for me, haven’t you?” Satoru pants out, voice soft and raspy. You hum an acknowledgement around him, a nod barely able to be formed due to Satoru’s rapid thrusting, but your whiny confirmation, the beg for his approval buzzing around his aching cock is all Satoru needs. With his jaw slack to release a loud throaty moan and his snowy eyelashes fluttering, Satoru cums down your throat, warm and so, so filling. As he twitches against your tongue, holding you so far down his length tears slip between your lips and add to the salty flavor of him filling your mouth, Satoru chuckles breathlessly, “That’s right… take it all.”
Satoru doesn’t let his hefty cock slip out of your mouth until you’ve swallowed all of the cum he gave you. Untangling your hands, Satoru pulls you up so you’re straddling his lap and he sets to wiping the tears from your cheeks and sweeping the cum that seeped out of the corners of your mouth up with his thumb. “Open up, pretty girl, you’ve got leftovers.” Satoru coos, the cheeky tone he never abandons for long makes you huff in soft indignation, but the compliment has you moving forward to suck the digit into your mouth, being sure to clean it of Satoru’s salty cum, eyes closing at the flavor and pussy fluttering again.
Opening your mouth to release Satoru’s thumb, you rub yourself against his still stiff member, subconsciously scratching the itch he seems capable of continually causing, “I wanna do that again.” You’re insatiable as you hump your way through your sentence, wanting him so badly you can’t stop yourself from gripping his shirt so tightly your knuckles hurt as you run your clit over his bulbous head, high pitched whimpers falling from your lips at every pass.
You lean in to kiss Satoru and lick the smug grin off of his face, but he moves away, reveling in how your pout after chasing his lips doesn’t result in him meeting you excitedly, tongue startlingly warm and licking a path through your mouth. “No baby,” Satoru flips you effortlessly, standing to slowly discard his clothes as he watches you rub your thighs together, “Now I do my job.” Fully naked, adorned only in the thin, glistening chain and the securely placed flower he set behind his ear earlier, Satoru creeps himself up the bed towards you.
One sloppy kiss after another, Satoru hums his way up your body. As he’s passing by your pussy, Satoru pushes your thighs open and with his tongue flat, he licks one mean stripe up your slit before abandoning your lips entirely and setting to nibbling at your neck. Before you can protest though, Satoru slips one of his long fingers into you, immediately curling to where you’re most sensitive, “You gonna be loud for me while I fuck you full, pretty girl?”
