your knees pressed against your breast, your breath was uneasy. you anticipated feeling his textured tounge toying with your fat clit - or even tounge fucking you. after all, the point was for him to get his cream.
eren; just like your other men knew your body well. you shivered whimpering when he blew on your hot pussy, watching closely at the slight movement from your clit. and how you clenched, making ony’s white cun slowly slide from your hole in a thick batch. “pretty stop playing with my baby” ony said, but he could hear the playfulness in his tone. connie snickered beside him, making you whine eyes rolling. “connie shut u-mm” your heart stilled, eren swiping through your fat folds and moaning. it was a breath that he took, a single second to let you marinate into his taste buds. a small amount of time for his self control to deplet and he dive into your pussy like an animal.
eren was the best pussy eater out of all the boys. they each had their own specialty- and each knew one another weaknesses, and eren was just the best. he didn’t just eat your pussy, he savored it. made you cum in his mouth just to drip it back onto your pussy and eat you again. he was quite literally addicted to you. his tounge licked up ony’s cum, his eyes closed and humming in satisfaction against you. he slowly slithered his long muscle into your cunt, making ‘ah’ sounds as he fucked you. “oh goodnes” your body shook, feet digging into the bottom of his back. you hips bucked up into his face, riding the wave of the feeling in your stomach.
you were hot, preying eyes and side comments of how you were a slut, and you were. you pushed his face more into your pussy, his nose bumping against your clit, the rest of ony’s thick cum sliding out of you and into the awaiting mouth. eren pulled back from you, a glistening face and hungry eyes. you finally felt air go through your lungs. you were done- but you weren’t. in quickness your legs were now over you head, eren’s tounge on your ass circling your small pucked hole. “fuckkkk rennieee!” your eyes crossed, teeth chattering together when he slid into your ass humming.
“oh shit” connie breathlessly laughed, from where he and onyankopon stood they could see your ass clench against eren’s tongue. ony watched intensely, your screams of help, how you couldn’t take it going to death ears. he watched you shake and cum, squirt dribbling from you like a water fall getting all into his pretty’s hair. how you pushed at eren’s head, trying to scoot from the pleasureable torture, and finally give up. cream now falling from you hole, to your ass hole that eren gladly ate up. your eyes slowly lost vision, pleasure so much that you lost consciousness and eren was too into it to notice.
onyankopon gently pulled eren from you, he rubbing his cheek seeing the fire in his green orbs from being interrupted. “look pretty you put her to sleep.” eren turned to see you smiling dazed, small snores coming from you. “you did so good for me baby boy, let connie fix that” he jerked his head to the large bulge in his pants. that made connie perk up, walking over to the bed quickly.
gris is buried deep between your legs, sweetly lapping at your candied folds & suckling on your puffy clit. your hands are tugging on his blonde locks, thighs practically suffocating him but he couldn't care less. one thing he did care about though was how loud you were being — of course he absolutely loves the way you sound, so cute & sensuous & whenever you whimper his name so loud, he feels like he can cum in that moment.
but being the man he is, he's simply worried about disturbing any of the cleaners. or even worse, someone coming up to him & saying that they'd heard you — and he knows that one of them is entirely capable of doing so（a certain tattooed, cocky bastard comes to mind . .）
"babygirl . ." he says from down there, eyes half-lidded with lust & hunger. you look down at him, panting as you try catching your breath. ". . please don't take any offence to this but you might need to be more quiet. we might be disrupting the others."
you feel your cheeks grow warm, hiding your face behind your hand as you mutter out a little apology. "sorry baby . . you just feel so good." he blushes at that cute admission of yours, planting a trail of feather-like kisses all over your inner thighs. and with that, he dives right back in to ravishing you & you're having to smush your face in the pillow to keep your voice down.
𓎢𓎠𓎟𓎠𓎡
the next morning at breakfast, gris is getting you your usual cup of coffee when a large arm flops around his neck & it's none other than his leader, enjin. "soooo~" he purrs right by gris' ears, a smug smile stretched across his face. "had a fun time last night, didn't you?"
gris knows exactly what he's talking about but he doesn't wish to entertain this. "i have no idea what you're talking about."
"oh don't be shy! it's a compliment to you, big guy! maybe you can show me how —"
gris interrupts him by shooting enjin a glare & gripping on to his shoulder in what seems like a friendly gesture . . but he's practically crushing the bone beneath the flesh. "i am not here to divulge in these matters with you. this is only between me & my girlfriend. now excuse me, i am going to have breakfast with her."
he finds you sitting at the back of the room & he slides in beside you, pecking your cheek softly. you take your mug of coffee from him as you notice the flush creeping up his face. "what did enjin say to you?" you muse, lightly combing your fingers through his hair.
"do you think we could convince corvus to grant us a room in a more secluded area?" he mumbles, covering his face behind his hands. it takes you a bit to understand what he's implying & then it clicks. your entire face heats up when realisation hits you & with that, you get up from your seat, startling gris as he asks you where you're headed.
You've been a brat all day up until your actions cause real consequences. Gris takes your punishment into his own hands
MINORS DON'T INTERACT
Kinks: Brat / Extreme Brat Taming, Punishment / Discipline, Spanking, Public Humiliation / Outdoor Exposure, Dominance & Submission, Daddy Kink, Manhandling / Physical Restraint, Humiliation + Guilt Play, Light CNC / Resistance, Voyeurism (light), Aftercare with Emotional Distance
You are such a pain today.
The words leave your mouth sharp and venomous every time someone so much as glances your way. Poor Follo barely gets a full sentence out—something sweet about sharing the last of his lunch—before you snap at him like a cornered Trash Beast, teeth bared and eyes flashing. He shrinks back with a wounded-puppy look, golden eyes wide, and you feel a twisted little spike of satisfaction that only makes the restless itch under your skin burn hotter.
By that afternoon, Gris and Enjin have had enough of you. They decide fresh air and a change of scenery might cool whatever storm has you snarling at the entire Cleaner HQ. Before you can protest, strong hands grab you—Gris’s large, calloused palm firm around your upper arm, Enjin’s tattooed fingers digging playfully into your waist—and you are half-dragged, half-tossed into the back seat of the old jeep like a misbehaving sack of supplies. The door slams. The engine roars to life. And just like that, you are barreling away from headquarters toward a distant city a few hours out, dust kicking up in thick clouds behind the tires.
It doesn’t help. Not one bit.
The Ground’s cracked, uneven roads jolt the jeep constantly, every pothole and chunk of debris sending you bouncing hard against the worn leather seat. You bite at Enjin’s fingers when he reaches back between the seats to ruffle your hair in that lazy, teasing way of his. He yanks his hand away with a low chuckle that sounds more amused than annoyed, but you catch the way his yellow eyes narrow in the rearview mirror, that infuriatingly smug grin sharpening at the edges.
You bark at Gris next when he tells you—calm and measured as always—to quiet down because your aggravated shouting is echoing too loud inside the cramped shop they are browsing for spare parts. He turns his head just enough to pin you with those steady blue eyes. “Sweetheart,” he rumbles, voice gravelly and patient even now, “you’re pushing it.”
Both of them are being worn thin, their usual easy dominance fraying at the seams under the weight of your nonstop attitude. Gris keeps one big hand on your knee for a while, thumb stroking slow, grounding circles like he is trying to soothe the beast inside you. Enjin cracks jokes, offers you the last cigarette from his pack, even tries to feed you a piece of street vendor bread with those long tattooed fingers. Nothing works. If anything, their attempts only stoke the fire higher, turning every kind gesture into fresh fuel for your brattiness.
The ride back is worse.
Enjin sighs heavily, forehead dropping to rest against the top of the steering wheel as the jeep bounces over another stretch of ruined terrain. You have been kicking the back of his seat for the last twenty minutes straight—sharp, rhythmic thuds that make the whole vehicle shudder. He gave up asking you to stop after the tenth kick, jaw tight, knuckles white where they grip the wheel.
He lifts his head again, shoulders slumped, those tired yellow eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. Gris watches you too, quiet and unreadable in the passenger seat, one thick arm draped over the backrest so he can keep those calm blue eyes locked on you the entire time.
“Y’know, you’re acting more childish than Guita and Dear right now, trouble,” Enjin comments, voice laced with that familiar lazy drawl even as frustration simmers underneath.
You huff, folding your arms tight under your chest and sinking deeper into the backseat until the worn fabric creaks. “If you didn’t drive so stupidly, I wouldn’t have to kick you.”
Enjin lets out another long sigh and fishes a cigarette from his coat pocket with one hand, the other staying steady on the wheel. The lighter clicks. A small flame sparks to life just as you slam your foot into the back of his seat again—harder. The jolt makes the flame catch the tips of his fingers. He hisses, drops the lighter into his lap, and the jeep swerves sharply for a second before he regains control.
“You okay?” Gris asks, already leaning over to check the other man’s hand, voice low and steady.
Enjin shakes his head, slowing the vehicle as he examines the fresh red mark blooming on his fingertips, the unlit cigarette still clamped between his lips. “Little brat’s got some fight in her today.”
Gris turns in his seat then, slow and deliberate, those broad shoulders filling the space as he fixes you with a look that makes heat coil low in your belly despite the defiant scowl on your face. “Apologise. Now.”
“No.”
“Bunny,” he says, voice dropping into that deep, gravelly register that always sends a shiver racing down your spine, “you could have really hurt Enjin.”
“So?” You shrug, arms still crossed, thighs pressing together on instinct as you feel their combined attention settle heavy on you. “We have Eishia back at base. He’d be fine.”
The silence that follows is thick, charged. Gris turns back around without another word, eyes facing forward, jaw set. Enjin follows suit, his facial expression now stern as he flexes his burned fingers around the wheel. The air inside the jeep feels suddenly too warm, too small, the engine’s growl vibrating up through the seat and you realise you’ve finally poked the bear too much.
The rest of the drive home is thick with a heavy, suffocating tension that wraps around the inside of the jeep like smoke. Your pulse hammers in your throat, a messy cocktail of anxiety and dark, electric anticipation twisting low in your belly. Every bump in the ruined road sends fresh jolts through your body, but it’s nothing compared to the way Gris’s steady blue eyes keep finding you in the rearview mirror. Those eyes—calm, unblinking—don’t hold their usual warm patience. They pin you in place, heavy with promise. This punishment is going to be nowhere near a funishment.
The tires screech to a sharp halt outside HQ, gravel crunching under the wheels as Enjin kills the engine with a low growl of the motor dying. The sudden silence feels louder than the drive ever did. He flips his palm up in the dim glow of the dashboard lights, inspecting the fresh red burn across his fingertips again. The skin is already blistering faintly at the tips. When he drags his thumb across them, he winces—sharp, involuntary—and that tiny sound hits you like a punch to the gut.
Guilt floods hot and immediate through your chest, souring the defiant spark that had been fueling you all day. You fumble with your seatbelt, fingers suddenly clumsy, heart sinking straight to your stomach.
You try to slink out of the jeep unnoticed the second the men climb out from the front, keeping your head down and your steps light across the dusty lot. Their low conversation drifts back to you—casual on the surface, but edged with that familiar undercurrent of control.
“You should get that checked out,” Gris suggests, voice low and gravelly as he rights his belt. The long drive has his pants riding up uncomfortably, the fabric stretched tight over those powerful thighs. He rolls one broad shoulder, looking every bit the steady, exhausted dom who’s about to put you back in your place.
“Nah,” Enjin replies, voice flat, the usual easy drawl stripped away. “Some burn gel and I’ll be back to a hundred by tomorrow.” He’s not smiling. He closes the driver’s side door with a solid thunk, the sound final. No smirk, no joke to ease the worry etched into Gris’s face. Just quiet, simmering displeasure.
You’ve nearly made it to the heavy doors of HQ, boots scuffing softly against the ground, when Gris’s voice cuts through the night air like a command you can’t ignore.
“Bunny.”
The single word stops you cold. Your spine snaps straight, skin prickling as both men turn toward you in perfect sync. Gris’s large frame is silhouetted against the jeep’s headlights, arms crossed over his broad chest, jaw set like stone. Enjin stands beside him, shoulders tense, yellow eyes narrowed with none of their usual lazy warmth. The air between the three of you crackles—thick with everything they haven’t said yet.
You suddenly feel the need to run — a raw, animalistic panic that screams if one of them catches you right now, it will be a one-way ticket straight to hell.
You whirl on your heel, boots scraping against the gravel as you lunge for the heavy HQ door handle with sheer desperation, fingers outstretched, heart slamming against your ribs like it wants to claw its way out. But before you can even brush the cold metal, a large hand clamps down on your forearm like a steel vise. The grip is bruising, unforgiving, yanking you back so hard your shoulder twinges and your feet skid uselessly on the ground. You twist and struggle against the assailant, yanking, shoving, nails digging into the thick forearm that refuses to budge an inch. It’s like fighting a wall. The hold only tightens, planting you exactly where you stand.
You finally snap your head up, chest heaving.
Gris towers behind you, expression carved from stone. No warmth in those steady blue eyes. No fond rumble in his gravelly voice. Just an emotionless stare that pins you harder than his hand ever could, jaw locked tight. You can feel the disappointment rolling off him in waves — thick, heavy, suffocating — the kind that settles deep in your gut and makes your knees want to buckle. He exhales once through his nose, calm and controlled, but the air between you crackles with the weight of everything you broke today.
Then Gris begins to pull you back, his large, calloused hand sliding from your forearm down to your smaller one. His fingers trap your digits in an iron fist—no give, no gentleness, just the unyielding clamp of someone who has run clean out of patience.
You begin to struggle again, yanking hard against the hold. “Gris—please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to burn him, I promise.”
Your boots scraping across the gravel as you try to plant them over and over again, pleading for forgiveness over and over again like it would help your case.
He suddenly stops dead beside the jeep. The abrupt halt nearly yanks you off your feet. Before you can draw another pleading breath, Gris spins you hard and slams your front against the warm metal hood with a dull metallic thud. His broad palm lands heavy between your shoulder blades, pinning you there like you weigh nothing.
“Enough.”
The single word drops from him in that low, gravelly voice you know so well—but there’s no warmth in it tonight. No “sweetheart.” No measured patience. Just flat, exhausted steel. His usual calm has finally cracked, jaw locked so hard the muscle jumps.
Enjin leans against the side of the jeep, arms crossed, cigarette lit between his fingers. He says nothing. Just watches, yellow eyes dark and unforgiving, letting Gris take the lead in some kind of silent agreement.
Gris’s free hand yanks your skirt up over your ass in one rough motion. Cool night air rushes over your skin, and your cheeks burn with fresh humiliation as your tiny panties are left fully exposed — thin fabric stretched tight across the plush curve of your ass, the crotch clinging obscenely to your folds. You feel the weight of both men’s stares on you, bent over the hood like this, but the shame only makes your thighs press together harder.
His palm comes down hard — no warm-up, no teasing sting, just a measured, punishing crack that echoes across the empty lot and makes your whole body jolt.
“Count,” he says, voice low, gravelly, and perfectly calm. The usual steady composure is still there, only now it’s edged with quiet authority that leaves no room for argument.
You cry out, legs trembling, trying to push up onto your toes, but his broad palm between your shoulder blades keeps you bent and exposed exactly where he wants you. “I’m sorry— I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I swear—”
Another firm smack lands, precise and unrelenting, the heat blooming deep across your cheek.
He waits, hand hovering. “Count, Bunny.”
You whimper, hips twitching uselessly against the hood, voice cracking. “O-one…”
“Good girl,” he murmurs, steady as ever. “You’ve been way too bratty today.” His palm comes down again, heavier this time.
“Two,” you choke out, tears already pricking at your eyes as the sting sinks in.
“Three.” Another measured crack, right where your ass meets your thigh. “Snapping at everyone. Kicking Enjin’s seat. Biting at him.”
You sob against the cool metal, thighs shaking, still trying to twist away even as slick heat soaks through your panties. “Gris, please—not out here, someone could walk by—I’ll be good, I swear, I’ll do anything— Four!”
The smack is deliberate, controlled, letting the burn settle deep before the next one falls. “Nearly wrecking the jeep because you couldn’t control that attitude.”
“Five,” you whimper, legs trembling harder, the heat building between your legs into a deep, throbbing ache. “I’m sorry—I’m really sorry, Gris, please, it hurts—Six!”
His hand never falters, steady and unhurried, each strike precise so the lesson sinks in without crossing into real harm.
“S-Seven.”
He pauses just long enough for the sting to bloom fully, thumb brushing lightly over the warm fabric of your panties like he’s checking his work.
You keep struggling, twisting your hips, voice breaking on desperate little sobs. “Gris, please, I know I was awful, I’ll never do it again— Eight!”
Another firm smack.
“Nine.”
Your breath hitches, tears slipping free now as the tenth lands — heavy, deliberate, the final one that leaves your ass glowing hot and stinging under the thin barrier of your panties.
“Ten,” you gasp out, voice shaky and small.
Gris stops. His large hand runs slowly over your ass, smoothing across the heated skin and the thin fabric of your panties, admiring the way your cheeks glow red beneath them. Even after a long day of dealing with your nonstop attitude, even with the fresh burn on Enjin’s fingers still fresh in his mind, he remains perfectly composed.
He gives your sore cheek one last firm squeeze, then lets his fingers drift lower, pressing the damp crotch of your panties against your soaked folds.
“You took your ten like a good girl,” he murmurs, voice low and even, thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit through the soaked fabric.
“Thank you, Daddy…” you moan softly as Gris’s thumb draws slow, lazy circles over your clit through your soaked panties, your thighs twitching weakly against the hood.
He replies with a deep, rumbling groan of his own, the low sound vibrating straight through his chest — a wordless praise that says he is no longer mad at you.
But what about Enjin?
You try to push up from under Gris’s heavy hand. He lets you, though he only allows you to lift onto your elbows. You blink through clumped lashes, searching for the other blond. Enjin is looking down at you now, that cold stare finally gone, replaced by a content, shit-eating smirk that makes your stomach flip. Your heart skips hard, a soft, relieved murmur slipping out when you realize both of your men are happy with you again.
But then Enjin moves. “Don’t think I’ve forgiven you, trouble. Those spanks were for Daddy’s temper, not mine.”
You whine, a sad little sound that catches in your throat because the giver is still possibly upset with you.
Gris’s thumb on your clit stops. His hand moves to smooth over your burning ass one last time, steady and deliberate. His voice stays low, gravelly, but the raw edge of exhaustion is still there. “He’s right, sweetheart. That wasn’t cute. It was dangerous.”
Enjin exhales hard through his nose, still staring at the fresh blister on his fingers. The that cocky, dimpled smirk has disappeared again. Now he just looks tired. “Yeah. We’re done playing for tonight.”
He doesn’t say it mean, but the words land heavy. No round two. No carrying you to bed like a spoiled princess. Gris helps you stand on shaky legs, tugs your skirt back down, and presses a kiss to your temple — gentle, but distant.
“Go to your room, Bunny. Get some rest.”
You blink up at them, the high from the spanking crashing fast. The guilt hits different this time. Not the cute, horny kind that leads to more dick. The real kind — the kind that sits heavy in your stomach and makes your eyes sting for a whole new reason.
“I… I’m sorry. For real.”
Enjin nods once, but he doesn’t smile. “We know you are. We’ll talk tomorrow when heads are clear.”
Gris gives your shoulder one last squeeze, then they both walk you back to HQ in silence. No teasing. No possessive hands on your ass. Just the quiet weight of two men who are genuinely disappointed in you for once.
hi lunnie! dropping in to ask a very important question ^.^ how do you think enjin deals with bratting?
mm very very important question indeed, i had to sit with this one a longer while because genuinely...it's something that needs to be discussed. bear with me!! my writing is a bit rusty
✦ cw... bratty!reader, fem!reader, modern au, gris + bro + corvus mention, mean enjin, spanking, teasing, fingering, voyeurism (the others r totally listening), exhibitionism, slight pregnancy kink(??) idk bro thinks you'd look hot knocked up, gris is actually a huge pervert, not beta read pardon the grammar and misspellings love u !!
you're trouble. nothing, nothing but trouble.
dangerous, even.
you're smart, one of the smartest. prettiest, too, if you ask enjin.
but that damn mouth always, always gets you into trouble, and when you get into trouble, you end up just like this.
"shhh, doll, what'd i tell you? now's not the time for mouthin' off, honey," enjin hums, clicking his tongue when he felt you writhing across his lap. he acts like you can help it, like you can keep still when your ass is tingly with the stinging aftermath of being spanked by his stupid hands.
did you mention they were stupid? cus they are.
"y-y're sho fucking mean, jin," comes a pathetic little hiccup, teeth bitting down onto the fingers pressing down against your tongue. he was trying to help keep you quiet, knowing you'd be mortified if the other three heard you.
but enjin knows they're well aware of what's happening in your shared apartment's bedroom. all because you decided to be a tease while he was trying to play cards with gris, corvus, and bro on the one night they were all free at the same time.
"enjin, you're doing awful."
"i know babe."
"what happened to you being the best, hm? you're embarrassing me, baby."
"well, when i've got you hanging over my shoulder with your tits smooshed against my face, it gets hard to focus, y'know? 'm tryna bond with my guys."
"well, maybe you should be bonding with your girls..."
and who is he to ever deny you something—
"...'cause at least your good at that instead of this game."
--is what he thought before you decided to get smart. without hesitation, he threw his cards down and tossed you right over his shoulder with a firm slap to your ass, carrying you to the bedroom.
"i'll be right back, gotta deal with this one real quick."
SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!
"focus, baby, we're not done yet."
you're jolted back with a whine, his hand rubbing up and down your back, gentle on your cheek he just landed three spanks on. it's unfair how wet you get from this, the mixture of pain and pleasure making an addicting cocktail that makes your thoughts drip out of your pussy.
enjin knows, he always does, he knows this is the easiest way to get you dumb and brainless for him...and he absolutely loves it. he swipes a long, broad, wet stroke from the oozing entrance of your slit all the way down to your clit, puffy and swollen, just begging for attention.
the sound was immediate a wet, sloppy shlick as the pads of his fingers start rubbing little circles into the sensitive nub.
"ohh, sweet girl, look at you...my poor baby's leaking all over the place, just from my hand on her ass," he coos, savoring that pathethic mewl of his name that comes from around the fingers in your mouth.
you're so fucking wet that you're embarrassed, head dropping low as you flush from being able to hear the wet, sticky noises of him just circling patterns into your clit with his fingers, shlick, shlick, shlick, god, is he writing his name against your clit?
"aww, ain't that cute? wish the boys could see how pretty you look right now."
with a simple hum, his middle and index finger push deep into the tight, wet cavern of your pussy, groaning at the way you practically suck him and pulse at the thought of being watched by his best friends.
"mm, yeah? y'like that idea? thinking about those three out there, tryna keep themselves in their pants while hearing your shitty attempts at bein' quiet? they can hear you, 'm sure of it. you suck at being quiet, baby, they're probably listening for your next noise...go ahead, don't be shy. give them something pretty to listen to."
as if to prove himself, he curls his fingers juuust right, and pretty wail escapes you immediately followed by a loud, wet squelch from your poor cunt.
they most definitely heard that one.
he just chuckles, pulling his fingers out of your mouth to press down on your lower back to keep you from moving too much as he increases the pace, stretching the tight walls of your pretty cunt with a blunt, authoritative force as it practically milked his fingers.
"you always thought corvus was pretty, right? remember when i made you cum while i was on the phone with him? or the time gris walked in on us but you just kept bouncing on my cock when he was standing there in shock? shiiit, and i'll never forget—"
"j-jin, no, d-doooon't—"
"—when bro was gushing about how great of a babysitter you were to dear, that you'd make a wonderful mama one day? and let it slip out you'd have a pretty glow all round and cute?"
"j-jin, fuck, ssshut up, 'm—"
"maybe i should let em all listen to me make the smartest girl around an dumb fucking mess on my cock while i knock her up with my baby...and maybe they can come in and help clean up the mess."
you hated, hated cumming while super embarrassed, and he fucking knew that, because it always meant—
"ffuck, baby, you squirtin' for me? tha's it, keep cumming, make a mess all over my fucking pants s' i can go back out there just like this for them to see while we play that stupid fucking card game."
—you'd end up making a mess for him to brag about.
“m-mmh, e-enjinnn,” you plead, trying not to thrash because he just won't stop fucking you with his fingers.
you can hear him coo something about loving how you make his tattoos look so much prettier when your creaming on them, but you can't focus, hips bucking up instinctively to push back against his hand to prolong your orgasm. he can feel your soft gummy walls seize and pulse violently around his fingers, a series of frantic, delicious spasms that accompany the wetness that splashed all over him.
when the final, lingering tremors finally, finally ebb away, leaving you limp and breathless against his jean-clad thighs, enjin decides to be merciful and pulls his fingers out with a wet pop.
if you were able to look up at him, you'd see his face; a deep pink, his eyes hooded and glazed with pure satisfaction...and that dumb, stupid smirk plastered on his face.
his hand that rested on your back moves up, massaging your scalp as you came down from your high. and of course, enjin feels a huge ego boost, seeing you fucked out from just some fingers and a bit of spanking, your limbs heavy and trembling, puffy pussy still weeping and glistening in the dim light of the bedroom.
"pretty thing..." he purrs, clearly pleased with himself. he pulls you up into his lap, peppering your face in kissed with obnoxious 'muah's until you start to whine, biting at his cheek for him to stop.
"you're so embarrassing," you huff, leaning into him. "it makes me sick."
he doesn't miss a beat before correcting you, "makes you squirt is what you mean."
you want to knock him out cold.
"i know you do, dolly, it's okay, it's kinda hot."
you just pout, moving to bite him again before he stops you with a kiss, humming when he feels you melt against him. he loves how weak you are for him, it makes him fawn over you ever single time.
"you okay, though, baby? i didn't over do it," he asks, his tone softening, the teasing tone momentarily replaced by a genuine, heavy warmth. he leans forward, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your temple before leaning his forehead against your own. "that was a long fucking orgasm...you gonna be okay if i leave for a bit to still hang with them? i'll tell them to get out if you need me right now."
you just hum, rolling off him and plopping onto the bed. "go play with your boyfriends, my butt needs a rest from your stupid hands. you don't even realize how heavy handed you are."
that dumb grin is on his face, you can sense it.
"well, i gotta have bit hands to make sure i can slap as much cheek as possible."
"jesus, enjin, go! let me rest, my butt and pussy need a little break before you start being mean again!"
with a loud cackle, he helps you get comfortable on the bed before pressing a gross, wet kiss on your cheek. "won't be long, don't have you distracting me so now i can kick their ass. don't get too excited waiting for me, or i might not come back alone...just remember, i can hear when you start touching yourself," he teases, nipping your ear as you whine, hating that he knows you'll probably just make yourself horny again thinking about how the others will see your slick and squirt stains all over his sweatpants.
"you're so annoying."
"i love you too, angel."
when he steps back out into the living room, it's obvious they all heard you. each one of them is flushed in the face and corvus is clearly trying his hardest not to choke out gris who has a huge grin on his face, while poor bro is on the verge of fainting.
"enjin, my buddy," corvus starts, strained smile on his face. it falters when he gets a look at his sweatpants and it takes a couple of tries before he can find his train of thought again.
"p...please get your friend before he ends up through your coffee table."
bro just groans into his hands, shaking his head.
"i didn't even do anything! i'm just repeating what i heard back to them, is that a crime," gris chimes in, voice eerily innocent in a way that shows he's way too good at hiding his mischievous intentions.
enjin just shrugs, plopping back down and swiping up his cards that haven't moved since he left. "whatever you guys got up to is none of my business...however, after dealing with dolly and getting her all soft for me, i've got a new prize idea that's ten times better than $200..."
at that, they all lean in, curious to what this new 'prize' is...and they all know it pertains to you.
"whoever beats me gets to take a pair of her panties home t'night...and i'll make sure to make her cum in them before i hand 'em over. who's in?"
"..."
"..."
"...start the damn game," bro grumbles, absolutely ashamed but clearly determined as he throws his old cards in. enjin just grins as corvus takes everyone's cards and begins shuffling the deck again while gris elbows bro, praising him for 'finally letting the truth come out.'
he just hopes you don't mind letting those pretty yellow panties with the metal bow on the front go for a little bit...but he knows all three of 'em will take great care of them for you.
summary: katara comes home to an interesting sight.
"Hey, have you—oh." Katara goes quiet when she walks in on you writhing between Toph's thighs, legs forced open and swollen pussy on full display. You squeal loudly, thighs trembling when Toph's thick fingers delve deep into your cunt, spreading you wide enough that Katara's able to catch a glimpse of your gummy walls.
"Hey Sugar Queen," Toph greets conversationally, like she isn't currently finger-fucking you to the spirit realm. "How did the council meeting go?"
"Good," Katara answers, already walking further into the room and kneeling before you. She's reaching out a hand, molding it to your tear-stained cheek and cooing as you nuzzle into it. "Wish I had been here, though. How long have you had her like this?"
Toph thinks about it for a second. "About an hour or so," she replies with a cruel upward curl of her fingers that has you choking. "Ooh, that was a big gush, baby." Katara looks down to see what she means and takes in the fresh slick that coats Toph's pounding fingers. Her tongue aches for a taste, the memory of you an unforgettable treat in her mouth. "She hasn't come yet under somebody's orders and I think she's about to go crazy."
Katara smiles and it's a wicked thing.
"Let me guess, Zuko?" She asks and Toph shakes her head.
"Aang, actually," Toph says, delighted. "She was very bratty to him today and Twinkletoes wanted to teach her a lesson." She smiles, all teeth. "But he has Avatar Duties to attend to so he gave her to me." She pulls her fingers out of your spasming cunt, cherishes your sudden cry before landing a harsh slap between your swollen pussylips. "Bad girl, you know you can't come yet."
You hiccup a sob, your pretty face crumpled with so much need and desperation. It makes Katara almost feel sorry for you because she knows how merciless Toph can be. But she's never one to deny the opportunity to see you all messed up and toyed with, pushed towards all your limits until you can't even think.
The perfect fucktoy that they all love to play with.
Katara ties up her hair with a red ribbon and leans in to capture Toph's lips in a dirty kiss. One that Toph accepts immediately, humming eagerly as she licks into Katara's mouth. Then Katara's pulling away, moving in to nip at the curve of your ear to hear your quivering breath hitch. All the while her hand is joining Toph's, her lithe fingers rubbing soft circles against your throbbing clit.
Your back arches, mouth opening in a silent cry as your thighs try to slam shut around their hands. Katara chuckles, kissing your cheek before saying:
"Aang doesn't get back for another hour. If you come, we'll have to tell him so be a good girl for us, okay?"
You barely have time to process those words before Katara's mouth is on your clit and your vision turns black.
interlude(v): smile like you mean it | prev track< | setlist
three rockstars! one you!
synopsis: your best friend has always been an asshole - whether it's in his band or in his bed. him ditching you? nothing new. but when one bedroom door closes, another one opens
pairings: rockstar!Suguru Geto x f!Reader x childhood fwb!Sukuna (+ rockstar!gojo!!)
content: mdni, oops angst!, rockstar au!!, messy relationships, mentions of leaked sex tape, geto pov is back baby!, gojo is a d1 yearner and finally admitting it, geto is SO incredibly jealous lmfao, lots of pining, regret, messy friendships and relationships, VERY SHORT CHAPTER!!
a/n: art by @thatsallitchief !!
"I think I'm in love with your ex-girlfriend."
Suguru didn't think his week could get worse.
But no, somehow, the world had found a way to send him crashing into a new rock bottom.
Staring silently at his best friend, at the wisps of white hair sticking up like he hadn't bothered to wash it after he rolled out of bed, blue eyes glinting with guilt as he spilled out the last thing he wanted to hear.
"I'm sorry, it's fucked up, I know it's fucked up but-"
"Did you tell her that?" He heard himself ask, the question hollow as it hung between them.
Choking on an invisible lump in his throat, chest constricting with every breath as he processes the freshest betrayal in a long line of them.
He knew you had gotten closer with him. That Satoru had slipped into the empty space in your life to try and be supportive post-breakup since he'd gotten the stupid idea you were pregnant.
Was he an idiot to assume that was just it though?
You'd even been attempting to mend their friendship, looking up at him with that cute stare, all considerate even after you had every reason not to speak to either of them again. Apparently clueless that you were pushing Suguru back towards someone who he wasn't even sure cared about him any more.
Not when it seemed Satoru wanted to choose you over him.
"No, of course not," he practically sputtered, holding his hands out defensively as Suguru briefly contemplated throwing him out of his house before he could scramble for another line.
None of it was supposed to be like this.
He spent all day trying to fix things for you. To make progress on scraping up the mess from the floor and giving you a clean foundation to start over from. The sex tape was mostly scrubbed, but you were scared of losing your job. Of finding a place you could afford. He'd asked around his contacts at least to see if he could snag a lead on either while he sat through meeting after meeting of corporate jargon and crisis management teams all coming up with ways to capitalize on what he was fighting to make go away.
But maybe he should've stopped for a few seconds to look back at what was happening under his own nose. In his own house.
Because sitting at his kitchen table, marker scribbles staining his t-shirt and stickers plastering pale skin from playing with his daughters, was a man who wanted one of the best parts of his life, to swoop in and save you and scrub Suguru completely out of the picture.
For one frozen second, he wondered if this was how Sukuna felt.
If the thick poison currently sitting heavy on his tongue tastes this fucking awful to him too.
Was he walking in his shoes now? Seeing how it felt to watch someone just show up and do the things for you that he failed to do? Would he have to watch you fall in love and drift further and further apart from him?
"I wasn't trying to fall for her, fuck, I mean, it's not like I ever fucking meant to-"
"Yeah, sure," Suguru scoffed, feeling like he was fourteen years old again watching Satoru carelessly smile and wave wherever he went in clothes that cost more than his parents made in months. When he effortlessly made grades Suguru had to study for. When he took the dream Suguru had and handed it over to his dad.
He wasn't being fair.
Knew the truth was more complicated than that. Fully fucking aware that he was more complicit in it than his own anger would let him accept right now.
It wasn't supposed to be a competition.
But then again, Satoru wasn't supposed to steal the love of his life either.
You weren't his right now. Maybe not ever again. But the idea of you being Satoru's made him sick. Jealousy coiling in his stomach, trying to drown him in the sticky pit of discomfort that kept bubbling up higher, flooding his lungs until he could barely breathe.
He had told himself before that even if you decided to be with someone else, he'd still be supportive. Try to find a way to be in your life anyway, if it was what you wanted. Make up for his mistakes and be there for you as a friend.
Couldn't stand to give up your smile, the soft way you spoke to him or the gentle way your fingers brushed against his skin. How you made everything feel brighter, warmer, just by standing a little closer to him.
But fuck, Suguru couldn't stand the idea of watching you lean up to kiss Satoru, your soft lips on his and your wrists looped around his neck, playing with his soft undercut and giggling at one of his bad jokes.
"It's just, everything about her, the way she laughs and-"
Suguru forced himself to tune him out. Unable to bear listening to him list off what made you so lovable like you were some stranger he hadn't met yet. He already knew every reason.
He adored you first.
Was it a mistake to bring you around to the shows? Should he have kept you out of the limelight from the start? Taken you on normal dates and held onto you like a secret someone else would just spoil?
"She doesn't know," Satoru said, as if it made it better. As if he was throwing any kind of lifeline for him to cling to when every word that left his lips just compounded on how fucked this all was.
"But you're going to tell her," Suguru assumed, voice hardening into an impenetrable wall. A defense that none of his pouts or promises could breach.
It might not be this week. Or this month.
But sooner or later, Satoru would spill his secret without thinking of who would have to sweep up the mess.
Would you want him too? Give him a chance because he'd done nothing to you yet except play the rich prince ready to cater to your needs?
Suguru hated how his internal monologue sounded. How he was already spinning a story and seeing how all the steps would unfold before anything had even happened.
Able to acknowledge that at least Satoru was saying something to him, admitting it so it didn't have to be awkward.
It just didn't make any of it easier to hear.
"I-I'm not," Satoru huffed, although it came out strained. Suguru knew his best friend well enough to pick up the split second he averted his gaze, glancing down at the nail polish stain on the table instead of the nearly empty pizza box in front of him from the dinner he brought over.
"You can't expect me to believe that," Suguru muttered, his voice measured, calm. Covering up everything buried underneath as his nails dug little crescent circles into his palm on his lap.
"I told you because I thought you deserved to know," his best friend argued, leaning back in his chair as nervousness flickered in his stare.
"You told me because you think something might happen," he corrected. Why else would he?
If he thought he could hide it, dig a grave deep inside himself and throw his feelings for you in without anyone finding them, he would've just done that. But no, Satoru was sitting here, in his house, at his dining table, telling him that he wanted his ex-girlfriend.
"I paid for, uh, her to go on a vacation," Satoru mumbled, and Suguru was fairly sure if the vein in his forehead throbbed any harder, it would burst. Maybe give him a brain aneurysm and kill him on the spot so he didn't have to live in a world where you belonged with his best friend.
"You-"
"She called me and just, you know, sounded all sad and I couldn't help it," he rambled, gesticulating with his hands and half-pouting. Of course. Satoru could never help himself. "I mean, doesn't she deserve a break anyway?"
You deserved the world.
It just fucking sucked to not be the one giving it to you.
"What do you expect from me right now?" Suguru deadpanned, bottling up the hurt before it could burst up. Feeling the dam of self-restraint start to splinter, the exhaustion that was around creeping around the corners of his brain threatening to make everything explode.
Satoru's mouth opened before he clamped it closed just as fast, rendered speechless for once.
It didn't help.
He didn't know what would anymore.
His face fucking hurt. Bruised and swollen and aching from getting the shit beat out of it before. The migraine that had been on the horizon all day throbbing behind his eyes as he uselessly massaged his temple. His heat aching at the idea of you curled up alone in a hotel bed trying to heal what he'd broken.
And now some new part of himself was shattering at knowing Satoru had a point. That his best friend might be better for you than he ever was.
"I was hoping you wouldn't hate me," Satoru finally spoke again.
That was the really terrible part.
Suguru didn't. Wasn't sure if he could ever be capable of loathing the one person who had been there for him through thick and thin.
He just couldn't fight the fear he was about to find out.
reblogs n comments are super appreciated <3 love hearing your thoughts as always !
interlude(v): smile like you mean it | prev track< | setlist
three rockstars! one you!
synopsis: your best friend has always been an asshole - whether it's in his band or in his bed. him ditching you? nothing new. but when one bedroom door closes, another one opens
pairings: rockstar!Suguru Geto x f!Reader x childhood fwb!Sukuna (+ rockstar!gojo!!)
content: mdni, oops angst!, rockstar au!!, messy relationships, mentions of leaked sex tape, geto pov is back baby!, gojo is a d1 yearner and finally admitting it, geto is SO incredibly jealous lmfao, lots of pining, regret, messy friendships and relationships, VERY SHORT CHAPTER!!
a/n: art by @thatsallitchief !!
"I think I'm in love with your ex-girlfriend."
Suguru didn't think his week could get worse.
But no, somehow, the world had found a way to send him crashing into a new rock bottom.
Staring silently at his best friend, at the wisps of white hair sticking up like he hadn't bothered to wash it after he rolled out of bed, blue eyes glinting with guilt as he spilled out the last thing he wanted to hear.
"I'm sorry, it's fucked up, I know it's fucked up but-"
"Did you tell her that?" He heard himself ask, the question hollow as it hung between them.
Choking on an invisible lump in his throat, chest constricting with every breath as he processes the freshest betrayal in a long line of them.
He knew you had gotten closer with him. That Satoru had slipped into the empty space in your life to try and be supportive post-breakup since he'd gotten the stupid idea you were pregnant.
Was he an idiot to assume that was just it though?
You'd even been attempting to mend their friendship, looking up at him with that cute stare, all considerate even after you had every reason not to speak to either of them again. Apparently clueless that you were pushing Suguru back towards someone who he wasn't even sure cared about him any more.
Not when it seemed Satoru wanted to choose you over him.
"No, of course not," he practically sputtered, holding his hands out defensively as Suguru briefly contemplated throwing him out of his house before he could scramble for another line.
None of it was supposed to be like this.
He spent all day trying to fix things for you. To make progress on scraping up the mess from the floor and giving you a clean foundation to start over from. The sex tape was mostly scrubbed, but you were scared of losing your job. Of finding a place you could afford. He'd asked around his contacts at least to see if he could snag a lead on either while he sat through meeting after meeting of corporate jargon and crisis management teams all coming up with ways to capitalize on what he was fighting to make go away.
But maybe he should've stopped for a few seconds to look back at what was happening under his own nose. In his own house.
Because sitting at his kitchen table, marker scribbles staining his t-shirt and stickers plastering pale skin from playing with his daughters, was a man who wanted one of the best parts of his life, to swoop in and save you and scrub Suguru completely out of the picture.
For one frozen second, he wondered if this was how Sukuna felt.
If the thick poison currently sitting heavy on his tongue tastes this fucking awful to him too.
Was he walking in his shoes now? Seeing how it felt to watch someone just show up and do the things for you that he failed to do? Would he have to watch you fall in love and drift further and further apart from him?
"I wasn't trying to fall for her, fuck, I mean, it's not like I ever fucking meant to-"
"Yeah, sure," Suguru scoffed, feeling like he was fourteen years old again watching Satoru carelessly smile and wave wherever he went in clothes that cost more than his parents made in months. When he effortlessly made grades Suguru had to study for. When he took the dream Suguru had and handed it over to his dad.
He wasn't being fair.
Knew the truth was more complicated than that. Fully fucking aware that he was more complicit in it than his own anger would let him accept right now.
It wasn't supposed to be a competition.
But then again, Satoru wasn't supposed to steal the love of his life either.
You weren't his right now. Maybe not ever again. But the idea of you being Satoru's made him sick. Jealousy coiling in his stomach, trying to drown him in the sticky pit of discomfort that kept bubbling up higher, flooding his lungs until he could barely breathe.
He had told himself before that even if you decided to be with someone else, he'd still be supportive. Try to find a way to be in your life anyway, if it was what you wanted. Make up for his mistakes and be there for you as a friend.
Couldn't stand to give up your smile, the soft way you spoke to him or the gentle way your fingers brushed against his skin. How you made everything feel brighter, warmer, just by standing a little closer to him.
But fuck, Suguru couldn't stand the idea of watching you lean up to kiss Satoru, your soft lips on his and your wrists looped around his neck, playing with his soft undercut and giggling at one of his bad jokes.
"It's just, everything about her, the way she laughs and-"
Suguru forced himself to tune him out. Unable to bear listening to him list off what made you so lovable like you were some stranger he hadn't met yet. He already knew every reason.
He adored you first.
Was it a mistake to bring you around to the shows? Should he have kept you out of the limelight from the start? Taken you on normal dates and held onto you like a secret someone else would just spoil?
"She doesn't know," Satoru said, as if it made it better. As if he was throwing any kind of lifeline for him to cling to when every word that left his lips just compounded on how fucked this all was.
"But you're going to tell her," Suguru assumed, voice hardening into an impenetrable wall. A defense that none of his pouts or promises could breach.
It might not be this week. Or this month.
But sooner or later, Satoru would spill his secret without thinking of who would have to sweep up the mess.
Would you want him too? Give him a chance because he'd done nothing to you yet except play the rich prince ready to cater to your needs?
Suguru hated how his internal monologue sounded. How he was already spinning a story and seeing how all the steps would unfold before anything had even happened.
Able to acknowledge that at least Satoru was saying something to him, admitting it so it didn't have to be awkward.
It just didn't make any of it easier to hear.
"I-I'm not," Satoru huffed, although it came out strained. Suguru knew his best friend well enough to pick up the split second he averted his gaze, glancing down at the nail polish stain on the table instead of the nearly empty pizza box in front of him from the dinner he brought over.
"You can't expect me to believe that," Suguru muttered, his voice measured, calm. Covering up everything buried underneath as his nails dug little crescent circles into his palm on his lap.
"I told you because I thought you deserved to know," his best friend argued, leaning back in his chair as nervousness flickered in his stare.
"You told me because you think something might happen," he corrected. Why else would he?
If he thought he could hide it, dig a grave deep inside himself and throw his feelings for you in without anyone finding them, he would've just done that. But no, Satoru was sitting here, in his house, at his dining table, telling him that he wanted his ex-girlfriend.
"I paid for, uh, her to go on a vacation," Satoru mumbled, and Suguru was fairly sure if the vein in his forehead throbbed any harder, it would burst. Maybe give him a brain aneurysm and kill him on the spot so he didn't have to live in a world where you belonged with his best friend.
"You-"
"She called me and just, you know, sounded all sad and I couldn't help it," he rambled, gesticulating with his hands and half-pouting. Of course. Satoru could never help himself. "I mean, doesn't she deserve a break anyway?"
You deserved the world.
It just fucking sucked to not be the one giving it to you.
"What do you expect from me right now?" Suguru deadpanned, bottling up the hurt before it could burst up. Feeling the dam of self-restraint start to splinter, the exhaustion that was around creeping around the corners of his brain threatening to make everything explode.
Satoru's mouth opened before he clamped it closed just as fast, rendered speechless for once.
It didn't help.
He didn't know what would anymore.
His face fucking hurt. Bruised and swollen and aching from getting the shit beat out of it before. The migraine that had been on the horizon all day throbbing behind his eyes as he uselessly massaged his temple. His heat aching at the idea of you curled up alone in a hotel bed trying to heal what he'd broken.
And now some new part of himself was shattering at knowing Satoru had a point. That his best friend might be better for you than he ever was.
"I was hoping you wouldn't hate me," Satoru finally spoke again.
That was the really terrible part.
Suguru didn't. Wasn't sure if he could ever be capable of loathing the one person who had been there for him through thick and thin.
He just couldn't fight the fear he was about to find out.
reblogs n comments are super appreciated <3 love hearing your thoughts as always !
this request breeding / lactation kink / pussyeating
he comes through the door exhausted—drained, tense, worn down everywhere except the place that lights up the second he sees you.
you’re on the bed, soft and warm and thick in every place he loves, and he’s already undoing his shirt as he’s walking toward you because he can’t stand being away from your body a second longer.
“come here,” he mutters, but he’s the one dropping to his knees first.
before you can answer, his hands slide up your thighs, squeezing deep, slow handfuls like he needs to feel the weight of you under his palms before he can breathe right again.
he pushes your knees apart, then leans in and lifts your top just enough to get his mouth on your tits.
he groans—loud, needy—the moment they spill into his hands. he squeezes them like he owns them, like he’s been dreaming about them all day.
his mouth closes around one nipple, tongue flicking, sucking hard, trying to coax something out of you that your body doesn’t give yet.
you gasp, back arching, thighs tensing.
he moans against your skin.
not disappointed—turned on. painfully so.
he pulls back just enough to look at your tits, flushed and wet from his mouth, nipples hard from his tongue.
his mouth trails down your stomach, slow and heavy, leaving warm open-mouthed kisses on the softest parts of you as he goes.
every inch of you he touches softens under him, warms under him, pulls a sound out of his chest that feels closer to a growl than a breath.
he climbs into you with his hands first—palms spreading over your stomach, fingers kneading deeper into your thighs like he needs to memorize every curve, every dip, every place he wants to fill.
your thighs fall open for him on instinct, and that’s all it takes. he hooks his arm under one leg, pushes it up and out of his way, and leans in like he’s starving, mouth latching back onto your tits with a need that borders on desperation.
he sucks harder this time—slow, dragging pulls that make your nipples ache, that make your back lift off the bed as he works them, tongue circling the peak before he sucks again. he moans each time he does it like he’s willing your body to change under his mouth.
when nothing comes out—when your breasts stay full and beautiful but dry—he pulls back just a fraction, breath shaking, eyes dark with the frustration of wanting something your body hasn’t given him yet.
it doesn’t stop him.
it spurs him.
“i want these to flow for me,” he murmurs against your chest, squeezing your tits together, rolling your nipples between his fingers until you gasp, “and i’ll keep you full until they do.”
your breath stumbles, and he smiles—a slow, hungry smile meant for only you—then dips his head to suck your nipple again while his free hand moves lower, sliding between your thighs, fingers brushing through your slick.
you’re already dripping for him.
he groans the moment he feels it.
“that’s it… body’s trying,” he mutters, voice thick and low, “just needs more of my cum. needs it often. needs it deep.”
he moves down your body with a heat that makes your head spin, mouth dragging across your ribs, tongue flicking at the underside of your breasts, lips brushing over your stomach like he’s worshipping you on his way to the place he wants most.
your pussy is soaked—warm, swollen, slick enough that he can smell you before he even touches you. his eyes go half-lidded and ravenous.
and then his mouth is on you.
no warm-up, no teasing—just lips and tongue and spit and hunger. he buries his face between your thighs, groaning into your pussy like he’s inhaling life itself.
his tongue drags a slow path from your dripping entrance up to your clit, and when you gasp he sucks it into his mouth like he’s been waiting all day to taste you.
you grind against his mouth without meaning to. he moans like you’ve given him permission.
“that’s it,” he pants into your heat, voice breathless, “give it to me… let me taste everything.”
he sucks your clit again, harder this time, tongue rubbing circles while his nose nudges against your swollen folds. slick smears across his chin, coating his mouth, dripping down toward the bed as he eats you with thick, messy strokes that make your thighs shake.
his hands never stop moving. one arm stays wrapped under your thigh, keeping it hooked high and open, while the other moves back up to your breasts. he cups one, then the other, thumbs brushing your nipples almost reverently before he rolls them between his fingers again.
you gasp, and he groans against your pussy.
“i’m gonna fuck you full,” he whispers against your clit, voice almost shaking, “breed you so deep your body starts preparing… tits getting heavier… nipples getting sensitive… milk coming in slow… you’ll give me everything.”
his tongue plunges into your cunt before you can even catch your breath. he fucks you with it, sloppy and desperate, gripping your thigh harder when your hips jerk, holding you right where he wants you so he can lick deeper, push harder, taste more.
the sounds he makes are obscene—wet, greedy slurps mixed with low growls and breathless groans—like he’s devouring something he’s needed for years.
he slides two fingers into you without warning, thrusting them deep while his mouth latches back onto your clit.
the sudden stretch makes you moan out, thighs trembling around his head. he moans at the way your pussy grips him, pumping his fingers in deep, slow strokes meant to open you for what he’s planning next.
“gonna fuck you right after this,” he breathes, curling his fingers until your back arches, “gonna fill you so many times tonight your body won’t know how to stay empty.”
his tongue flicks fast, his fingers thrust harder, and his free hand squeezes your tits again.
your whole body tightens. your breath stutters. your thighs shudder against his shoulders as he devours you without stopping, without slowing, without giving you a chance to come down from anything building inside you.
he wants you swollen.
and he’s not stopping until your body starts changing for him.
﹫𝑐𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑒𝑒𝑏𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟
i’m open to requests !
check this post’s hashtags to see who i’ll write for
synopsis . Getting sandwiched in between your boyfriends but, one is really mean to you and the other just showers you with praises. content . afab!reader, threesome, overstim, praise, established relationship, spit, degrading, eiffel tower position, etc.
“What a stupid girl,” Geto groaned out in between the sloppy thrusts of his cock into your drooling mouth, border-line bruising the back of your throat with how rough ‘n rude he was being, “Lettin’ us fuck you like this—hah, you couldn’t even wait until we got home. Needy slut.”
You’re a pathetic mess of gags, choking around his heavy shaft that's busy dragging itself up and down the expanse of your tongue—kissing the very back of your throat in a way that had your cunt spasming around the other cock currently stuffed inside you. “Mmgh!” You’re left whining as your teary eyes navigate up to your dark-haired boyfriend.
Your lighter-haired partner—who’s weighty balls are busy slap! slap! slapping! against your swollen clit as he plows into you from behind—is contrastingly a lot softer with his words, “Aw, c’mon, Suguru, don’t be s’hard on her,” Gojo soothes out with his lengthy digits busy rubbing over the fat of your ass before he spreads you a little wider for himself just to catch sight of the way your cute cunt is swallowing him in deep.
“Why not? She likes it,” Geto purrs before his hand moves under your jaw to lift your head a little bit whilst his hips angle. Those darkened purple-hued eyes of his are ever so demeaning on you, staring down at your tear-stained face as if you were exactly where you belonged (you were). “Bet you want me to keep using this slutty throat of yours ‘til I cum all over that tongue, huh?”
“Mhmm,” You naturally start nodding your head and let the salivating pink muscle in your mouth lap eagerly against Geto’s most sensitive vein—y’know, the one that trails the underside of his dick gorgeously.
The man cocks his head to the side and even though his thumb is actively rubbing your jaw as if to comfort you just a little, there’s still a scarily smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Swatting his tongue out over them, “Yeah? Earn it, then.” He orders before spitting down at you, the splatter landing somewhere on your cheek.
You try to better the way you’re sucking him into your mouth—you really do—but with the way Gojo conveniently presses his palm into the arch of your spine, causing his wet cockhead to place syrupy kisses against your spongey sweet spot, you all but choke around the thickness in between your lips.
“Suguru, look at her, she’s tryin’ her best—mmgh-, fuck,” Your much sweeter boyfriend tries to sympathize, despite the fact that his tip is busy branding a mean smear of cum against your cervix. Huffing, “You gotta reward her some. Like this,” Gojo explains breathlessly before swooping a hand underneath your poor, overstimulated frame and letting his fingertips locate your clit with ease, gently swatting at it just to feel 'n watch the way your entire body twitches in reaction.
“Hnngh,” You're gagging out your moans again as your eyes start to travel alll the way into the back of your skull.
Gojo only smiles as if he's being any kinder than Geto, “See? She’s squeezin’ me even tighter now,” He points out. Then he's leaning down so his words can hit your ear properly, voice a soothingly deep tone that has you dripping from everywhere. “Y’like that, sweetheart?”
Like always, you're nodding before you manage to hum a muffled, “M-Mmhm!"
“Liar,” Geto sears with a harsher thrust of his hips. It's almost like he wanted you to literally eat your own words, his wide cock filling every crevice of your throat just as he'd trained it to, time and time before. Head tilting and knowing smirk flashing, “You like someone that’s mean to you more, be honest.”
Gojo's head flies up and his brows are all furrowed. An immediate pout takes over his lips and you think his hips stutter for a second, “Are you trying to say she likes you more than me?”
“Hah," Geto laughs dryly while weaving a hand through your hair, ignoring your gags and only ever acknowledging how good the vibrations feel around his shaft. "You’re a smart boy, Satoru. You can figure it out.”
The man behind you is left to scoff and the smack! he leaves on your ass doesn't exactly seem like it was directed towards you, “See how easily you praise me?" He asks, rolling his eyes before looking down again. It was clear by the sudden throb in his cock that the simple phrase from Geto was getting to him. So, naturally, he had to turn the attention back to you, "Why can’t you do the same for her?”
“She’s not y—oohh f-fuck, hey-, wait…” Geto's the one stammering now as he's entirely caught off-guard by your sloppy fingers dragging against his balls, his dick having somehow fallen out of your mouth and left you below him with a jaw slicked with saliva 'n spit, and your lips kissing his most sensitive places. “Shiit, you missed my attention on you already? Hm?” He teases.
“Mmnh," You hum while nodding. He watches you stick your tongue out like some whore before you let him see the center of it slather over a particularly delicate vein of his that trails the left side of his shaft. Then your head tips to the side and you start leaving kisses all over his length.
“Fuck, I hate it when you’re cute.” Was his way of telling you he's dialing it back a bit, his touches an awfully lot softer and smoother now against your face.
You let off a moan right against his skin when Gojo pulls out of you for a second just to watch his cock wetly thwack! up against your folds, “He’s lyin’, sweets. He loves it.”
To which Geto shakes his head and only sends him a glare, “Shut up, Satoru.”
banner art by Rororogi Mogera || perm gojo & geto tags (list still open here):
Squirting in front of Suguru and Satoru for the first time!
“S-Satrou!” You cry out squirming. Bucking your hips up as some sort of relief. As His big meaty cock stretches you out so sweetly. You just can’t seem to think straight.
Your natural reaction is to reach out to Suguru, who’s to your left. “Suguru” you cry out. Grasping his abs. “Shh, I know sweetheart” he coos in your ear.
The way the nickname rolls of his tongue is intoxicating. His big hand splays across yours. His thumb rubs circles across the back on your palm. “He can’t save you” Satoru laughs. A cocky grin fills his face at your pitiful attempt of escape.
He grabs your hips and slams them back down on the mattress. Holding you in place as his speed increases. “Ohhh fuck -ngh- take it like a good girl, yeah?” Satoru throws his head back. Lewd squelching fills the room.
You let out a sharp cry. Practically pawing Suguru. “Easy Satoru, you’re gonna break our poor girl” Suguru’s tone doesn’t match his body however. His cock in throbbing at the sight. A puffy leaking mess.
“Oh please, ple-” you cut yourself off with a loud moan. “Please what? Little slut doesn’t even know what she’s asking for” Satoru smiles, however his cruel words only make you wetter
You cum undone so easily. Body shaking as you soak Satoru’s thighs and the mattress. The room goes still. “Oh god, I-“ you cover your face embarrassed. You’ve never not heard a remark from at least one of them.
SMACK!
Satoru gives your thigh a big large smack. “Atta girl!” He shouts. Throwing his head back in some sort of a breathless laugh.
“Cmon squirt all over me to” Suguru tugs at your hands. Removing them from your face. Before you really respond you feel Satoru leaning in close grinding deep. “No way she owes me atleast two more!” Satoru snaps back “you’re hogging her how do you know she’s not tired of you” Suguru sneers. Trying to push Satoru out from in between your legs.
Synopsis. First time he learns about a matíng press = first time he loses his mind.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, matíng presses, PÚSSYDRÚNK men, manhandIing, stopping you from running, p talking, spítting, chokíng, new positions, true form Sukuna, DP, tummy buIges, making it fit, cervíx kíssing, they’re FÉRAL, marathons, ínappropriate use of jujutsu, GOJO’S POWERS, creampíes, cúmplay, mentions of kids, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. C’mon c’mon rock that body-
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - DlLF Tactics
“T-Toji—”
You’re sobbing out brokenly- and what does your boyfriend do? He’s merely leaning his beefy body over to lick up the salty wetness of your tears, groaning. “I know.” Tone guttural. “I know, mama.” Gone.
You were no match for him - and he was no match for this damn new position Shiu had just-so-happened to mention today. He’d laughed at the man then, something about a mating…oh.
Toji wasn’t laughing now.
One of his calloused hands claw down your front, “You’re-” And all it takes is one push for your poor core to pour out wads of his seed, gushing ivory syrup straight down to Toji’s hilt. “-reeeeeal full, aren’tcha, doll?”
And your thighs stick uselessly to his shoulders, where he’d thrown them over hours ago and kept them there. Where you thought he’d get over this little obsession after one round. Maybe two. Maybe three-
Toji grins, “But you’re gonna take it for me one more time, mhm?”
Before you can even think to shrill out an answer, Toji’s squeezing his thick, reddened tip allllll the way near the back of your slick-covered walls. Just so big that you can feel the globed end of his shaft probe into your cervix, “Fuh-fuck! Again, Toji?”
“Blame the- the…” He’s strangling out a dark chuckle, scarred lips curling. And oh- to have the Toji Fushiguro stuttering?
You had him ruined.
“The mating press?” You’re mewling in answer.
Only to have his entire sculptured body wrack with a visceral shiver- Toji’s hunching his weight on top of yours until you’re being crushed, until your hamstrings scream, until he’s biting his canines down on the side of your neck just to stop himself from whimpering. “Fucking love it when you s-say that, mama.”
One of his roaming hands nestles on the top of your sweaty scalp, and he grumbles, “Yeah a mating press.” Caging you in. Making you feel every tense n’ twitch of his glissading abs. “A fucking mating press. It makes me wanna fill this hah- pretty pussy with my cum up just ooooonce more.” The other still glues to your tummy, feeling for the bumpy outline of his thrusting cock. “Makes me wanna make ‘er leak.”
“B-but I’m already so full.” You’re whining out through wobbly lips, and you swear that his bulbous mushroom tip only grows fatter at the state of your voice.
“Mmm—” You knew that lil’ hint of greed in his tone didn’t bode well. You knew that it would have his right hand pushin’ down on your stomach until he’s making his knotted white cum leak out of your pussy like a fountain. Sheening the inner parts of your cute thighs and soaking his happy trail - you just feel so filthy. “H-heh, not anymore…”
“Ngh, oh- oh my god.”
And his strokes are vulgar, like he’s knocking that weepy orifice of his against every sweet spot of yours just to fill you back up again. You were so sensitive after all these hours that only a few whack-whack-whacks of Toji’s long, vein-covered cock makes you drool.
A slimy line of pre glues right near your g-spot and makes him giggle at the mess. “C’moooon, mama, stop makin’ such a oh- mess.” Ruthless, Toji’s thumb snakes down from your temple to push between your swollen lips. “M’just trying to make sure that this…mating press really works, heh.”
Just saying those words makes his ravenous cock throb even harder - what have you done to him?
“B-but I think it already works, Toji—” Case in point; each heavy, sensual pump of his inches only makes your walls splosh ‘round with both cum and slick. Utterly full. Utterly ruined.
“That’s cute.” He simply states, hazy green eyes on the verge of rolling. Toji plants a ruthless smack on the side of your left thigh, “Now hold up those legs f’me, doll.”
As if you could be bent even further- but Toji Fushiguro finds a way. He always finds a way. Even if his rough, knobbly fingertips are trembling as he’s gripping each underside of your legs.
Overstimulated, Toji’s veiny biceps flex once he’s folding you straight in half with the curves of your knees hitting your tits. Your face pushing into the crook of his neck, his cock stirrin’ up your insides.
Chanting out like mantra—“Up, up, up, aaaand up-”
Jostling you around like some glorified doll, you’re sure that the globes of your ass don’t even touch the bedsheets at this point. He’s just so big that you can barely even clench - the bubblegummy texture of your walls was damn near rubbed raw on each of his prominent veins. Drilling inside over and over and over-
“Cute—soooo fuckin’ cute how she talks back.” As if to prove his point even further, Toji thumbs down your slivery slit and lets off a noisy slurp. Huffing with primal desire, “Gonna be e-even cuter when I fuck her stupid, though. When I feel- my-” Punctuating each word with a bashing strike into your depths, the flared ridge of his cockhead kisses your g-spot and you bawl. “-doll’s cervix get hit alllll the way from the back.”
Your head throws back with a pitched trill, “T-Tooooji–! Don’t talk like that…”
“Why? Feeling shy, mama?” He’s snickering, “How can you even think of feeling- fuck! shy when I have you like this? In this…this…”
Mating press…fuck, he couldn’t even say those two words anymore. Trailing off. Eyes glazed.
He’s jackhammerin’ the prolonged inches of his girth into you like it was the only thing he knew how to do at this point, and Toji’s tough fingerpads wield down on your pussy with a solid spank. “D’you even know what you’re doing to me?” Then he’s spanking your treacly cunt three more repeated times like it’s her fault.
“I- ngh, oh-” All that you can babble by now, your pupils are swirling in comical circles inside the whites of your eyes.
Each one follows the crazed patterns of his crashing cocktip, bashing in the sponged layer of your cervix. Toji’s deltoids bulge as he bullies your body down just a bit further, and lets his rovering cock smooch the door to your womb—thud!
Fuck.
Instantly throwing his hazy head back, murmuring something intelligible underneath his breath-
“Wh-what was that–?” You’re panting, eyelids fluttering as you try to steady your vision. Toji was just so pussydrunk that he could barely string together his slurring syllables, he could barely even stop the sloppy slamming of his hips to speak-
“I-I said–” Toji drawls out, and he’s bent so low in this mating press - his all-knew favorite position - that he can kiss your forehead sweetly. Whispering in your ear, “-that Shiu’s gonna be the fucking godfather after this.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Shibuya “Incident”
“Legs here and…your pretty pussy- hah- here-” Rattling off, it was almost sexily methodical the way that he was moving your shaky limbs ‘round with no strain at all. “And I’m…”
A mating press.
Nanami Kento had you pressed into a mating press- and the only thing you can do is arch your back upwards into his dewy touch- he’s just so messy like this. Glasses crushed against your body, blond hair falling over his forehead. Your husband hunches his hulking body into you so that he could suckle on your tits like his favorite candy. “Wh-why the sudden mating- ngh, press, Ken?”
“Because, please-” He doesn’t even know what he’s begging into the skin of your chest, clammy mouth gluing to the nubs of your nipples. “Please- we hafta make sure, my love.”
You’re whimpering, “F-fuck! Make sure of what–?”
And his response is muffled, pearly whites snagged on your areolas, “Have to make sure it takes.”
“Oh.”
Truthfully, Nanami had been restless. Ever since he’d come back from Shibuya all bruised n’ battered, he’d simply bent you into your marital bed and folded your legs in half like he hadn’t even realized what he was doing just yet.
Like he couldn’t think of anything to say but a low, growling—“C-can’t even control it, sweetheart.” His handsome cheekbones blush all crimson, “Somehow I just want to get you…” Hesitating. Rugged. “-pregnant.”
Oh, he’d been struck with some sort of babyfever.
Still in the half-opened uniform of his suit, he was taken over by some sort of madness that made you trill at the top of your lungs every single time Nanami’s rovering cockhead bludgeoned against the back of your pussy. He might have been gentle, but his aching, red length surely wasn’t.
“Oh- fuck-” You’re sobbing out, legs twitching on top of his shoulders with each passing second. “Th-that explains the hck! mating press-”
“Mating press, huh?” Long, golden lashes blink up blearily at you, he was still tuggin’ on your cute nipples until the skin of your chest was all sensitive. A slight brush of his textured taste buds make you buck- and he’s only pressing a forearm to your throat. “S-so that’s what s’called.”
Naturally, Nanami was leaning his entire carnal weight on top of you until you were manhandled like some lawnchair.
Until your feet were dangling in the air and he was pushing you into a mating press so sloppy that you’re hearing your dripping cunt squelch from below. Slurp after slurp. The reddened, globular crown of his tip nudged against your cervix and made you sob. “Like this-” Extra tight, his vein-decorated hands lace on top of your scalp. “Like this like this. Fuck! A mating press…s’like this?”
“Y-yes, ngh- oh my god-” You didn’t have enough brain capacity right now to tell him that this was more than just your average mating press.
This pliable position had his hips spanking down on yours until the skin of Nanami’s pelvis turned red.
He’s snapping his head down with a slight gasp at the slamming impact, molten eyes widening and widening. “O-oh.” Hard, the lines of his v-line thrash down once more. Probin’ his sultry wet tip so deep between your pussylips that you swear you can feel him enter your very lungs. “Oh, m’in love with this position. In love with how deep it makes you take me- how f-fucking tight you squeeze each time.”
Then it’s like he was insatiable - getting such a gooood look at the way your puffy folds expanded with each inch you swallowed, the way your pussy glistened with each spurt of slick, the way you quivered like you wanted more, more, more-
“Y-you’re in so deep- hck!” You can’t help but wrap your fingers into the silken fabric of your husband’s tie and tug-
And that makes him gasp, it makes him pant. Nanami’s slimy tip wallops the roof of your cunt and twitches—“Yes—!” He keens, guttural and raw. “Like that- roughen me up like that, darlin’.”
You’re gaping- because you’ve never heard your beloved husband speak to you like this before.
He was at the mercy of your pussy.
It’s as if this all-new, lecherous position had loosened his stern mouth, and now it was slick with slobber that gushed every single time your cervix was being bruised by his impressive circumference. A thin line slips from the side of his lips that he smears between the valley of your chest.
“S’gonna take-” He hiccups, pumping you oh-so-full that your ears pop. “Gonna take gonna take gonna take- fuck! Gonna be a-all round and glowing.” Blond brows furrowing, teeth grit. “And m’gonna take suuuuch good care of you, my love. Can be the hah- pretty lil’ mother of my kids, while I take care of eeeeverything for ya.”
His crowned shaft scrapes all the way near the entrance to your womb and you find yourself seeing stars. “Sh-shit, oh, Kento-” Clawing onto his tie, the attire tightens enough to squeeze his airway and make your husband gasp-
“Mmm, spit in my mouth.”
You gape, “Wh-what-”
Oh, you couldn’t hear him? No problem - because all those years of Nanami’s battle-training goes directly into reflexively bending down, down, down until your body n’ cunt scream at the stretch.
His perspired forehead rests on yours, tonality dripping with need. “Spit in my mouth.”
And how could you not?
Not when he was asking you like that. Not when his glassy peripherals were staring into your own like he could just eat you alive.
Nanami’s parched throat hums at the splatter of your webbed wad of saliva, wetting his taste buds properly. And once you do as he says, his roaming cock twitches- “F-feels like m’gonna cum inside.” Immediately burrowing those cracked moans of his back into your tits.
You’re whimpering, mouth lolling at the feeling of his canines gnawing your nipples raw. “Mmm, oh my god- what’s gotten into you with that today, Ken?”
“Well…” He gruffly admits, the fringes of his teeth trapping your left nipple and tuggin’, “-m’practising for when these tits have actual milk soon, my love.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - FLEXXX
“You- bend- so- well-” Your fuzzy brain barely even has the time to register Geto’s words before he’s drilling each of them in with a rough thrust of his swollen, ruby-red cock.
Just so fat n’ aching to claim every secret ridge inside of your pussy, he’s not sunken even halfway in before he’s rutting. Furiously. Like he didn’t even care for the way his girthy length was struggling against your tight ring of muscle, Geto pushes down on the undersides of your thighs further and makes you shrill.
He’s marvelling, amethyst eyes flickering at the way this mating press had your pussy all smeared open. All ready. It didn’t matter how much your body stretched and stretched, Geto was just so strong that he had you pliably thrown around like some ragdoll. “You bend so, so well.”
“Fuck, ngh, Suguru-”
And it was your fault - yours. You were the one to challenge him into folding you into a mating press, and he was more than happy to deliver.
In fact, Geto’s just so impatient that he’s feeling your snug hole clench ‘round his shaft and bucks- knees anchoring down on the springy mattress to get his slick length tunneling deeper. “It’s like you’re- fuck- like-”
Gaze slightly glassy. Expression slightly crazed.
Geto has to force himself to pull out his entire sloppy cock before he can even manage to speak.
Hot breath heating up your awed features- “S’like this pretty pussy’s been wantin’ to be folded into a mating press for aaaaages, gorgeous.”
And then he’s slamming his rugged, rock-hard girth until the patterns of his veins brand on your cervix. Letting it fill you up till he’s bottomed out, Geto’s dark happy trail rubs the poor folds of your cunt raw, dragging his vulgar strokes out until you’re keening—
“Oh- oh my god-” You’re babbling, tears crinkling from the edges of your eyelids. You’re scrambling to hold onto your trembling thighs, “This position makes me feel so- so…”
“S’okay- s’okay, your Suguru has you.” He snickers from above, the contents of his sentence were gentle but the way he was saying them was utterly mean.
Just like the way Geto was stickin’ his bulbous tip into you, pouring out drops of pre into each crevice. The squirting sensation makes your poor cunt quiver, wads of syrup oozing out of your entrance and making your pussy weep. You don’t even think twice before roaming your unsteady dominant hand down to toy with your neglected clit-
SPANK!
Only to have it swatted rudely away by Geto’s own.
“S-Suguru- what are you-” Before you know it, one of his knees comes crashing down to pin your hand to the creaking mattress.
Leaning his weight down even more into the mating press until all the blood in your lower half was rushing to your head, “What did I hngh- tell you, gorgeous?” He purrs, lips twitching into a grin. And every massed inch of his body was collapsing into you, to further bend you cutely. Twisting his thumb ‘round to graze your perked nub, “I said I’ve got you. Look at thaaaat—I can even toy with your p-pretty clit like this, gorgeous.”
And fuck- did he like seeing that cockdrunk expression on your face.
Did he like having your mouth drop agape with each thump-thump-thump speared way into the back of your cunt. Geto was both long and girthy, and it was maddening to have his curvaceous length molding your walls to his exact measurements - especially in this mating press, that had him filling up nooks and crannies that you didn’t even know you had.
Your gummy walls clench like you were trying to keep him there- “A-and you’ve got me too now, huh? Locked all in this…fucking mating press- fuck!” Crazed.
Chuckling.
You’re trying hard to whimper out a response - botched and half-nonsense at this point - when it suddenly hits you that Geto wasn’t even talking to you.
“That’s right-” He coos, leaning even closer to hear the soft wafting squelches let out from your dripping wet pussy. “That’s right that’s right, you’ve got me- and m’- haaah- sorry for not putting you into a cute lil’ mating press earlier like you deserve.”
And you’re almost shocked because Geto rarely apologizes even to you - rather, focusing on actions and comfort than words. But right now he was pleading to your smeared-open cunt like he’d no sooner be on his damn knees.
“Because you really, really like it- don’tcha?” The sleazy smile slashed across his lips was twitchy, “Like being fucked by me with your legs up? Ngh- this lil’ position to have this cute cunt bred?”
Thrust after thrust, he’s poking your dewy insides with the length of his cock. Letting the bloated ridge of his slit scrape against your g-spot, it makes the man titter to watch you gasp. It makes him groan. It makes his own husky voice crack- “Please- please, Suguru.”
“Don’t you worry now, pretty lady.” The fatness of his thumb bullies between your folds, and before long he’s pressin’ doooown on your clit like some pretty, wet button. The motion lets out such sappy background music- “It’s all that you deserve, isn’t it? All that you- you-”
Splat—!
You’re looking up through the long, inky strands of Geto’s hair just to find that- oh, he was tearing up now.
The cadence of his cock was burrowing between your folds at a blurring speed, and each slight thrust with you in this position ran him ragged. Harder. Sloppier. So far gone on your softened cunt, the eager embrace of your walls was enough to make him throw his head backwards and bite down on yet another sob.
“I-I’m always gonna put you into a mating press from now on, gorgeous.” He fucks you into the exhausted bedsprings until one breaks. Meaning it. “Always.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Fever
“Woah…I can see her so clearly like this, baby.” Choso’s mere words make him blush, a lewd scorching rouge that accompanies each flick of his gaze up n’ down your cunt. “It makes me feel…shy.”
And you can barely even breathe around the fatness of his mushroomy tip, teasingly entered between your folds. Your boyfriend lets out a low, grumbling whine just as soon as he pulls back and looks at you in all your entirety - legs on his shoulders, knees hitting your tits, pussy stuffed.
“Oh- oh!” Choso seems to snap out of his little reverie just as soon as your hips start squirming, and he’s using his superhuman strength to clasp onto your waist and draaaag you backwards into his body. “B-but don’t worry, that doesn’t mean m’gonna- hah- stop.” He looks almost sheepish as he admits, “In fact…I don’t think I even can ngh- stop.”
And he meant it.
“Fuck- fuck, baby—” Oh, you could feel it with each punishing strike of his rock-hard length.
Choso wasn’t even bottomed out, but you could still feel the throbbing crown of his shaft swat your inner walls. Deeper. Harder.
With you all laid out, he could see exactly what he was doing to you - and that pretty pussy of yours. With your puffy core stretched oh-so-widely ‘round his girth, “Shit—” Your entrance glistens each time his length was mazing between your clingy walls. “Sh-shiiit, I really don’t think I can ngh- stop, baby.”
Hit after hit, the globe of your ass cheeks now felt permanently plastered to Choso’s v-line. “H-hah, guess I should mention more ‘human sex things’ more- hngh- often, huh?”
He pleads, bottom lip jutting out adorably, “My baby, if you do that I might just die.”
And Choso’s cock was looong- a pretty pink, with a few curly veins down the sides that were burrowing into your gooey walls. The weepy divot of his orifice bludgeons your cervix like his very personal target, and it makes him tug your legs further ‘round his shoulders with a groan.
“Wait, ngh, oh my-” You’re gasping for air- and you swear his strawberry tip was tuggin’ down the sides of your channel. Was growing even bigger—“Cho…” You’re tasting the familiar metallic tang of cursed energy in the air, “-your hck! Powers–!”
“O-oh, sorry, baby–” He tries to reel his hips back, watching all the while. “Let me just-”
Only to rut all the way back in again.
It’s as if he couldn’t last a single nanosecond without your dewy cunt, steadily getting addicted to the glissading texture of your walls. Choso can feel his skin spark, he can feel the way his blood manipulation technique was going out of control to hone in on the blushin’ crown of his shaft and prolong his inches.
You’re shrilling, feeling his bloated cock swell up even further inside of you. Scouring your snug folds until you nearly couldn’t even take it any more- “It’s just- just this position.”
“The…mating press?”
“Fuck! D-don’t even say the words, please.”
Harder.
Bigger - his aching hot cock was probing your deepest innards like never before. Grunting, “I can s-see you and that preeeetty pussy and- and-” Mashing the thick crown of his cockhead, he can’t control his speed. His thoughts. Not even the way he’s speaking by now. “-and I think m’addicted to mating presses now.”
In the end, the only thing you can do is open your mouth to formulate a quiet coo at your pussydrunk boyfriend- only to have him slam one clammy, open palm down on your neck to stop you from talking.
Choking you.
“S-sorry, baby, it’s just that your pretty hck! voice makes me…” He’s trailing off with an utterly gaped maw, saliva leaking in excess from one side of his mouth. And you can feel him throb ragingly near your cervix, “-get even harder.”
Somehow managing to wheeze out, “But- ngh- I like that, Cho.” Your hamstrings ache once your ankles pull him in by the back of his sweaty neck, crushing him to you. “Like that you’re inside so deeeep.”
“You…you like it?” Another whiff of jujutsu, another few thwacks of his ever-growing cock.
“Mhm—” You jerk your hips crazily, “More-”
The only response you’re getting for the moment is Choso’s lithe, toned body bending over until his forehead plasters against your own. Staring deeply into your dizzy peripherals when he mutters, “Then- then take it. Take it all.”
It’s an orgasm you didn’t even see coming - just one, two, three sloppy thwacks of his curved cockhead against your g-spot. Even harder.
And he can see the precise moment your high takes over; with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, toes curling, mouth agape. “Oh- oh my god, nghhh, m’cumming m’cumming—Cho-!”
Having you cream all ‘round his length with your quivering walls was simply heaven.
Each peak n’ explosion of white-hot pleasure made Choso rover his lengthy shaft, dragging out your high until your throat was hoarse with moans. And just when you thought you couldn’t be even more cockdrunk- he’s bursting into his own high.
Hard. Fast.
Stark ivory bliss flashing behind his eyelids the very second that your treacly cunt’s being painted in the same color. And it was so hot, too, practically taking over your body from the inside out with his webbed wads gluing your walls together. “O-oh.” He crouches back just a bit - for just a second - before spitting straight down your soppy slit.
It adds onto the ropes upon ropes of scalding syrup spraying between your legs, trickling down onto the bedsheets in a puddle.
“Look at that-” Choso rasps out, still jackhammering away like he would die if he spent a second without pounding you through the mattress.
Sensually, he sticks the pulsating, reddened crown of his cock way past the line of your womb. And you’re just starting to ponder that you should ask him to fold you into a mating press more often when his voice trembles - octaves higher, cracking at the back of his throat. “Do you think it took, baby? Or…do I need to try again?”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Jet TWO!
“Heh…?” Sukuna had raised an impish pink brow when you’d started describing your ideal sex position. And the longer you’d gone on, the more parched his second mouth had gotten - flicking his monstrous tongue, salivating. “Humans and their filthy creations.”
Rolling both sets of his crimson eyes, he was then easily picking you up in his arms to sprawl you across the ancient bed.
“Oh well.” He’s forced to hunch more so than he normally would with his hulking figure, and the King of Curses is just so big that your ankles can barely even lock ‘round the back of his neck.
Two arms keeping them spread, the other two bringing your treacly cunt down to kiss his weepy mushroom tips. He grins, “Guess you’re my filthy human.”
And fuck- Sukuna would never fucking admit it, but it just felt so right to have his thick, probing cocks enter you like this. To have you so whiny and helpless pinned underneath his body, he barely even has to try to slip in a few staggering inches that scrape your walls.
Puffy pussylips spread allll wide open by his circumferences, there was more resistance than usual and that only made it sweeter. Usually having you ride him with his sheer size meant he didn’t get to see you all squirming and bucking out-of-control like this…
Fuck- just then, Sukuna gasps.
He falters.
Feeling his throbbing lengths spurt out in thin ribbons of ivory sap, he had barely even put it in before cumming. “Goddammit-” Grumbling, “God-goddammit, s’all because of you- because of this damn position.”
“You’re blaming that?” You’re whining, almost smugly. It feels like a whirlwind to have his dewy webs of cum swirlin’ around your insides - you’d just made the big, bad Ryomen Sukuna cum early. Just from a mating press.
And then he’s pumping a few of his clingy ounces past your walls with a swat of his girths. Flooding your inner thighs with glistening seed that sticks to your skin, “Oh, Kuna-”
Snickering, one of his cursed fingers flick right where your throbbing cunt was all presented for him like a gift. Your lower half was just so limp that it’s all he has to do to make you gush out in a waterfall of slick - loudly. “Kehhh, like this, huh? So this ‘mating press’ is about heh- mating, isn’t it, brat?” Another one of his four hands smush your cheeks together into such an embarrassing pout, “Then you better take it like a champ, ma.”
You’re all at Sukuna’s mercy, and he was rude about it.
Using the plump, pre-sheened crowns of his cocks like headlights- each mazing pump of his girths have your walls revealing hidden nooks n’ crannies you didn’t even know existed. To fill you up. “F-fuck–!” So sloppy that the wads of his cum mix with your slick to let off slurp-slurp-sluuuurps.
“Oh? So you agree?” For a split-second, you think he’s talking to you-
And you’re blubbering out something that halfway resembled an answer- “I- it’s-”
“Not you. Her.”
Before the cavern of his second mouth licks its lips and snickers. Sukuna stares down at your wet cunt after a few more lecherous squelches, “See? She agrees?”
Clawing down his bulky deltoids, “Fuh-fuuuuck! Just like that- just like that, Kuna—”
“Hah! The entire castle’s gonna know that they’re getting a fuckin’ heir soon, mama.” Rolling his eyes, he’s gifting your humid pussy with a few more inches. “Well…not that I mind.”
With a few more jabs until the strawberry-shaded globes of his tips were burrowing deeply into the back of your cervix with a splat. It was a stretch so good that you find yourself sobbing, your thighs twitchin’ weakly over his shoulders. You couldn’t even escape if you wanted to-
Your chin hits the front of your chest and you sniffle, being manhandled all out of shape by his arms meant that you could see your front clearly. Especially the large, thick bulge that was taking shape. “O-oh my god…”
“Huh?” He’s catching sight of it too - that cute lil’ tummy bulge his cocks were fucking into you. Each pap! of skin-on-skin leaving your stomach all bumpy with his sheer size, “Jeez…this- this fucking position. Hell, it’s driving me crazy.”
The slivery slit of your cunt weeps the very second that Sukuna’s cursed tongue slithers out n’ laps at your pussy. Just teasing your bloated folds with the rough texture of his taste buds.
Tittering, “S’drivin’ you crazy too, huh?” Nodding along as if he was just thoroughly in conversation with your pussy, the King swats his rugged fingertips back down on your clit and watches you weep. “Yeahhh—I can tell. So talkative, mama, always so chatty when I hah- fuck you.” From both sets of your pretty lips.
And then he’s turning to you - all wrecked n’ trembling. The lengthy muscle of Sukuna’s second tongue has the audacity to trek up your body and lick at the clogged mess of drool leaving your mouth.
Sensually, lazily, he’s stirrin’ around his pummeling cocks just so. Letting wisps of cum stick against the roof of your cunt, your cervix, every spot in-between.
Sukuna’s leaning over in the mating press to juuust let his cum-glossed tips poke against your womb, letting out such a noisy squelch from below. “Mmm.” He hums, watching as you struggle to take it all. “Y’know why she’s so chatty right- hah- now, brat?”
“Wh-why?”
“Because she know m’just getting started.”
♡ INO TAKUMA - BIG BOYYY
SMACK–!
You’re unsure who’s whining more at the feeling of Ino’s reddened, scorching hot tip spanking down between your pussylips.
Letting the treacly syrup of your slick coat his cock till it was all glistening, he’s measuring his fat girth out against your entrance just to make sure you’d be able to take him this way. Because he usually did have you ride, maybe even a sloppy doggy once-in-a-while - but now…
“The- the tiktok said it was like this, pretty. Open those legs up wide f’me.” Your boyfriend’s announcing, throwing your legs over his toned shoulders.
And you gawk at the way that Ino’s biceps flex as he’s holding onto both your ankles behind his neck. “And then it was like this, and…” Truly, you couldn’t forget that he was so strong- and he barely even realized it. Easily bending you in half like a pretzel, Ino doesn’t even hesitate before making the curves of your knees strike your tits, the ridges of his abs blending against your core. “-I bend you like this. All good, sweetness?”
“Y-yes— fuck!” You don’t know how you’re managing to huff out an answer- but whatever’s left of it is being thrust out of your body the very next second.
Because Ino can’t stand a single moment seeing you all spread n’ dripping wet for him like this - not a single moment. That is, if he isn’t spreading you with all of his aching hot cock.
And before you can even register it, the probin’ crown of his length finds its way stuffed between your pussylips. Ruby-red tip disappearing past your slick hole, he’s pushing and pushing inside with a strained groan. “F-fuck. I’m not fine- oh, m’not fine, pretty- think m’losing my mind—”
“T-Taku, baby–” Your tongue salivates generously at the ridged lines of his veiny shaft, he was smearing you out so openly without even trying. “-this is called a ‘mating press’, y’know?”
You swear you feel his weepy orifice twitch straight inside you, banging against the sides of your walls filthily. “So…so that’s what it is, sweetness.” Kissing you sweetly, your lips are the perfect way for Ino to muffle his husky whines as he pumps and pumps and pumps. “Whoever created this thing is in fucking hngh- heaven- because I am.”
You’re almost feeling a giggle bubble its way up to your throat, dragging your hand through his tawny locks. “I’m sure.”
“No- no, you don’t get it, pretty.” He’s pleading with you, almost shellshocked.
With one hand manhandling your hips to dangle cleanly off of the mattress, the other lacing on top of your scalp to get you to look down where he was burrowing his inches. “Look at me- look at- us.” He’s hissing, hips angling each precise strike to target your sweetest spots. “I can bend you like thiiiis—”
In an instant, the hand at your scalp rovers down to your neck - and he’s draaaagging you up bodily, kissing your mouth. “Or like thiiiis-” Moaning, he’s then instantly changing the pressure on your throat to shove you down deeper into the bedsprings. Curling your spine into the perfect curvature, pinning you down with his bodyweight even further, “E-even like…this.”
He was just so trained with his moves - swift and precise through battle, but right now he was using them to ruin you. Ino was naturally chiselled; all ladder-like abs, firm arms, and a veiny v-line that were all pushing into you right now.
And with a few more vulgar strokes, you’re yelping as he moves you around- this time, Ino has his meaty thighs coming up to cushion the sides of your hips.
Blushin’ tip creaming down your cervix, washboard abs glissading down your front. “Oh my god-” You can feel a thrill zing through your body at the blatant show of his strength. He was manhandling you like it was nothing. “Taku- fuck fuck fuck, s’more.”
“More?” His voice cracks, his chocolate irises water at the way your velvety insides keep clinging onto him. “M-more?”
And you could’ve sworn that was a whimper.
Right before his pummeling cock was steeply slamming into you - faster, sloppier. With absolutely no care or rhythm; nothing other than the aim to stir up your insides until each nook n’ cranny was thoroughly stretched. And he was succeeding, too.
Thrashing the globular crown of his shaft against the very entrance to your womb and hissing out–“More? S’that it? S’this more?” Voice cracked. Tone turning rugged.
“Mmm—” You cup Ino’s blushing cheeks and he whines. Just staring into your eyes leaves the bulbous end of his cockhead weepy, “Harder.”
He echoes, “H-harder?”
“Harder.”
Grinning, and oh- Ino’s got his hands on you already. It’s like a second, animal instinct the way he’s then clawing down your inner thighs, pushing up your every limb, bending you till your joints were creaking nearly as loud as the bed was right now.
Thrust after thrust.
He’s gluing the curvature of his mushroom tip against the spongy layer of your g-spot, hard enough that you nearly don’t hear the words that leave his mouth next-
“Next time…” Ino starts off, cute pinkish lips trembling. He stares at you with a dopey grin as his cock stretches you furiously, “-I also saw a hah- tiktok about a thing called a…full nelson, pretty.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - Kitty Whisperer
“I-I’m gonna fucking purple hollow whoever came up with the fuck! mating press, sweetheart.” He’s leaning in close- leaning in until you could make out every flicker of blue lightning within Gojo’s eyes, every gleam in his peary white grin. And he hisses, “I can’t fucking stop.”
And he couldn’t - not if he even wanted to.
Though, fuck- Gojo’s thrashing the fat, bludgeoning crown of his cock against your cervix until he’s seeing stars. Until his pale v-line was rubbed all red with slamming impact - Gojo doesn’t think he’d ever want to stop.
It’s like he was in heaven with the way you’re clenchin’ around his throbbing length. Gojo was just so hard that his glazed, bulging tip was bruising your cervix.
And all you can do is drag red, red nailmarks down the expanse of his muscular back. “Oh my god-”
He hums in faux thought, though you could feel the way that Gojo’s strawberry tip was flinching in excitement near your cervix. “Mmmm, I prefer ‘Satoru’, my girl—”
“S-Satoru–!”
“That’s right-” He’s punctuating each n’ every syllable with a hollowing thud! of his shaft, voice running ragged. Pitches lilting. And there’s something in the way he looks at you with widened blue eyes that makes you think he wants to eat you alive. “-that’s right that’s right- say my fuck–ing- name.”
And the thing about the strongest was that he wasn’t just pounding you into the sagging bedsprings - right now, he was sloppily reeling his cock back allll the way until the shiny globe of his tip pulled out with dewy plops! Instead of his usually smooth thrusts- Gojo kept on pumping his long, solid inches from leaking orifice of his length right till his very base. Every single time.
It was simply driving you mad at the carnal stretch, your toes curl every time his vein-covered hilt was stretching out your entrance. “This mating press’s gonna drive me ma-mad.” He’s muttering, teeth grit against your ear. “Gonna drive me fuck! Crazy.”
And several things are happening at once - he’s thumping the spongy layer of your cervix with a particularly rough strike, and your flickering bedside lamp shatters.
“Fuh-fuck–!”
“Shit, your powers…” You’re keening at the shards of glass that are halted in midair - your husband’s limitless was covering the both of you now. “Toru, you’re going out of ngh- control-”
“And how m’I expected to stay in control, sweetheart–?” The white-haired man drawls out, almost mockingly. Pitch finding itself a few octaves higher, he’s dragging the puffy veins of his cock down your walls until you find them helplessly sensitive.
Trying oh-so-hard to extract yourself from his merciless hold, you’re clamoring your feet off of his shoulders and bucking up the mattress like you didn’t know whether you wanted to run away or slam your hips down for more, more, more. “Not when I- oh! not when I have you like this- fuck! Not when m’fucking you like thiiiiis. You can’t expect me to stay sane when I have you in a fucking mating press, my girl.”
And if you thought that the Gojo Satoru wouldn’t notice your restless little squirming, then you haven’t been married to him long enough.
Because, before you know it, he has both hands glued to your throat pliably draaaaag your body down to thwack against his. Hard. Heaving, “Don’t you dare fucking run.” He mutters, something tremoring in his tone. “I can’t let you run when I have you like hah- this…” Squeezing his eyes shut, lightning flickering behind like it made his body ache animalistically to have you like this. “I should never have let the elders talk me into this- oh, ‘Gojo heir’ my ass- I should n-never…”
He’s trailing off- cutting himself off with a deep groan.
And you’re whining just as soon as his stirrin’ cock pokes against your womb, opening you up in ways that you never thought possible before. “Shit- b-but I like it, Toru.”
“Mmm—” Gojo’s body flinches like he’d just been shocked by a thousand volts- and it takes him a few seconds to register what you just said. “You’re so right.” Raising his bleary eyes to stare dead-on into yours, he’s musing, “Y-you’re soooo right, sweetheart. How else would you have gotten ngh- fucked like this?”
What did he mean by…?
Your husband snickers, rosy lips curling with slight smugness - and it’s only then that you’re realizing you’d just uttered that last sentence out loud.
Almost predatory, Gojo nuzzles his nose bridge to the crook of your neck. “You wanna fuuuuck- know what it means to be put in a mating press by me, sweetheart?” Slap after slap of his bludgeoning tip left your ears popped, barely able to make out his words. “Means m’gonna fuck a baby into ya.”
“O-oh.” You gape, but the strongest wasn’t done just yet.
“Means m’gonna hngh- reach into your deepest spots.” Right on time, the fatness of his crowned shaft reaches for your cervix and then digs in deep— like he would go even further if he could. “Means m’gonna p-permanently keep ya like ngh- this. L-like—”
And then he’s drooling, mouth open and his lust-filled thoughts trailing off.
Without any warning, Gojo reaches back for a split-second to spit down to your leaking slit. Looking through his long ivory lashes as you gasp, “Don’t act like you don’t like it, my girl.”
“I do I do–” You nod your head fervently- or maybe it was the sheer driving force of each of his thrusts. If it was even possible, your ankles are locking even further surrounding the perspired back of his head. Bliss seeping into your veins. “I like it s’much, want it even more, Toru.”
That renders him speechless. It renders him gawking down at you.
The only thing that Gojo can do is stroke his throbbing cock down your tight channel with drill after drill, “Oh my god-” He’s whispering to himself, pounding into you so hard that your ass cheeks were being pushed cleanly off the bedsheets by now. “Oh my god oh my hah-”
He’s darting his eyes down to take but a single glimpse of you - all folded in half into his mating press - then averts his gaze the moment his skin starts to prickle with cursed energy.
“What the…having you like this—” He couldn’t even look at you. “How m’I supposed to even go on?”
The ball of tightness at the pit of your stomach makes you shiver, “Ngh- oh my god…mm, Toru-”
In sensual synchronization with the glutinous swipes of his cock, he’s setting one hand free from your throat. Thumping it against his temple as if to knock some sense back into him- “I-I think m’going insane.” Breathily, he shakes his head, eyes now finally daring to look back at you. “Think m’getting new powers- think she’s…”
His mouth falls open at the sudden squelch letting out from your soppy pussylips, his dazed eyes focus so intensely that you can feel cursed energy sweep your body. Taking over.
Until he’s finally muttering, “Y’know what she’s oh- saying to me, sweetheart?”
“What?” You whine, your primal greed getting to the best of you. And now the only thing you can do is perk your hips up to match his feral cadence.
And Gojo cracks such a dangerous, pussydrunk grin. “She says we’re gonna make a baaaaaby—”
With a final, solid spank of his rovering cock, you’re getting run over by your high. And he knew this would happen - he saw it with the power of his Six Eyes - so Gojo wastes no time ramming you through your peaks.
“Cum—ing…” The spheroid end of his shaft makes your toes curl, caressing your every deepest inch through each white-hot spark of pleasure - so hard that your husband barely even realizes when he, too, crashes into his orgasm.
Something bursts.
Collapsing onto your body with his hulking one, grunt heaving after each splat! of wadded cum leaking into your womb.
“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck fuck-” He’s damn-near whimpering in your ear, and the angular position of the mating press made it easy for him to pump your cunt full with as many ounces of seed as possible. Enough so that you’re just spilling ivory syrup from your entrance, forming a ring of sap on his base. “Ohhh yeah, oh yeah, sweetheart.”
Gojo feels the warm, knotted mess and twitches- the bedroom lights had shattered but he could still see. In fact, the entirety of Tokyo didn’t have power right about now.
He gives an experimental thrust and listens for the sluuuurp- “D’you think if I cum in you again our baby’s gonna be twice as strong, my girl?”
“…”
A/N. I thought I was soooo funny for that jet two joke-
synopsis . In which it takes a total of sixty nine days of living with Choso for the two of you to realize you’re both terribly down bad for one another. He’d been crushing on you hard (pun intended) from the day you moved in with him, and while living with you is easy, being around you almost all day every day like this is turning him into someone he can't recognize. So much so that you should be concerned. Except, you're not?
content . afab!reader, perv x perv, filth, dirty talk, virgin!choso, dub-con (considering all the perversion), switch dynamics, porn w no plot, choso’s down bad but so is reader, pet names, lots of dry humping/humping in general, he watches a lot of porn, loser!cho, awkwardness, embarrassment, premature ejec (he cums a lot), creampies, implied breeding kink, panty sniffing/stealing, getting caught, reader makes him suck a copy of his own dick, possessiveness, manhandling, scent kink(?), oral sex (f!receiving), he's literally disgusting, missionary, he calls reader mommy on “accident” a few times, eventual rough sex, etc.
word count . 11k || author's note: mostly based on this drabble & the many requests i got for this!! banner art from “Lady K and the Sick Man”
Day Two: The Phone Incident.
Choso should’ve known how severely fucked he was from the moment he got hard after handing you your phone.
And yes, that is as crazy as it sounds.
You didn’t even notice it—as you were much too busy trying to get to some phone call—but this was the first time in a whopping forty-eight hours of living with you that Choso had experienced this kinda thing.
Something about holding a device of which your fingers spent the majority of the day wrapped around drove him crazy. Perhaps it was the indirect touch, or the fact that his hand faintly smelled like yours afterwards, but either way—he felt a sudden twitch in his pants that he just couldn’t ignore.
He’d accepted the fact that he was attracted to you when you moved in, but this?
This was absurd. Surely his body wouldn’t continue to react like this around you… right?
After handing you your device, Choso turned away all awkwardly and calmly excused himself into his room for the night. This left you to watch him walk away with slightly confused eyes as you carried on with your call, shrugging off his sudden stiffness and figuring it was nothing too serious.
Which, in a way, it wasn't. The man nearly needed a moment away from you.
A moment long enough to take care of the leaking problem in his pants, that is.
As soon as he enters his room, he lightly shuts the door and lets his head push against it with a soft thump. One hand remains on the doorknob whilst the other is just barely keeping his body standing upright. It was like a switch had gone off in his head or something.
It hasn't even been a week with you yet and there's already one thing running rampant in his mind—sex.
Choso's known you for quite some time now, which is exactly why you moving in with him when he already had a spare bedroom only made sense. But to already be losing his head over something so small makes him feel shamed with the weight of guilt.
He shouldn't touch himself. He should ignore how hard he is right now. And should definitely not think about you if he does decide to act against those two things.
...Yeah, that goes straight out the window the moment he hears you laughing from the living room.
You're still on the phone and you'd have no reason to come into his room and check on him or anything so it should be okay, no? Getting off to you once won't hurt anyone.
Clasping his bottom lip neatly in between his teeth, Choso finally moves a hand down over the fully formed bulge poking out against his sweatpants. Maybe he won't even jerk off. Maybe he'll just rub at his cock until he cums.
That should be fine.
Right?
His hand carefully cups 'n grabs at the outline of his hard shaft, his bottom lip falling loose with a moderately noisy pant breaking free from his throat. "Fuck," Choso sears just under his breath as he squeezes his eyes shut.
He shouldn't be doing this. This is wrong. You just moved in!
His hand slides over slowly, letting the friction of fabric and his palm soothe his aching arousal just a bit.
What would you think if you saw him right now? You're only a few steps away from his door, sitting all pretty in his living room. Would you be disgusted by him if you knew how he rubbed his hand against his dick to the mere thought of you? Taking his other hand—the same one that held your phone and now carries the faintest bit of your scent—and slowly bringing it up to his nose to smell.
His palm reeks in your lotion. You must've used it recently, huh? Probably right before touching your phone for the last time, he thinks.
Choso's other hand squeezes around the head of his dick, feeling something nasty beginning to wet up his boxers. Fuck, he feels gross for doing this. He's all hunched up against his bedroom door, body flinching whenever he hears your voice a little clearer from beyond it, and cock jumping with each whiff he takes of his palm.
His mouth flails open a little and he nearly whines as his hand grips at his length a little tighter, slithering towards his shaft, and then letting his hips roll forward. The hand pressed up to his nose slips down to clasp over his mouth to conceal that pathetic sound, only worsening his situation as he realizes this means the smell of your lotion is practically smushed up to his lips now.
Choso feels his knees going weak all of a sudden and can't even help himself as he ditches the teasing rubbing and finally stuffs his hand down into his pants. His cock meets his hand raw with a throbbing heat he hadn't been expecting.
Quickly, before he starts letting out sounds too loud to conceal, he does his best to work himself up to an orgasm. Because of his hasty movements, it's not long before his hand is cramping up and he's jerkily thrusting his dick into his coiled fingers.
"A-Ah," Choso gasps, his lashes fluttering over something wet that'd unknowingly built up against his waterline.
Then there's a sudden knock at his door.
The poor guy nearly falls over, barely managing to grit his teeth and swallow the next array of sounds that threatened to leave him. His eyes stare down at the silhouette of your shadow under the door and he struggles to suppress a groan.
"Hey, I dunno if you're asleep already but," God, you sounded so sweet—how could he be doing this in thought of you? "I just wanted to let you know we're out of trash bags. Tried to text you but it wasn't going through."
Choso's standing here jerking off like some freak after touching something of yours and now you're standing on the other side of his door telling him you guys are out of trash bags?
How comedic.
Not that any of this stops his hand from moving. If anything, his cock feels wetter as he continues on to the sound of each word leaving your lips. Then he presses his face against his door and murmurs, "M-Mhm, thanks for... letting me know. I'll get more t-tomorrow," He grunts out.
Little did he know, his movements had only become smoother because he already came from the moment you knocked on the door. Now his briefs were filled with cum, his hand felt disgustingly sticky, and...
And you have absolutely no idea. You haven't the slightest clue that he just did something wildly perverted in your name.
Or so he thought.
——
Day Fifteen: Missing Hoodies.
A little over two weeks in and Choso's issue has only gotten worse. On the bright side of things, at least he's not the only one slowly losing his sanity in all this.
Because surely if you weren't losing your mind just as much as he was then you'd have moved out by now. Even though he's sure you're not aware of any of the things he's done so far like steal your panties just before laundry day, stuff his nose into your bath towel mere minutes after you've showered, and even use that same lotion of yours to jerk himself off.
But again, Choso is pretty sure that if you knew about any of those things he's done then you would've been out of here faster than you came in. Better yet, faster than he cums whenever you're in mind.
Which is pretty damn fast.
It's on this fifteenth day that Choso loses his first hoodie. It's a plain grey hoodie, but he noticed it's disappearance rather quickly because the last time he wore it was on the day he last spoke to Yuji—and everyone knows how attentive this man gets when it comes to his siblings.
So imagine his surprise when he's tearing his room up trying to find that hoodie to no avail. A small frown takes over his face and he lets out a long sigh before trudging out his room and towards yours.
Knocking thrice, "Are you busy?" Choso asks carefully, ears slightly quirking up at the distant sound of your bedsheets being shuffled about.
Part of him wonders what you were up to.
"If so, don't worry about it," He adds on shortly after. You hadn't even said anything yet and he was already nervous. "I didn't mean to interrupt—"
The door swings open and you're greeting him with your breath seeming as though it's lost it's way into your lungs properly. "You're not interrupting anything, Choso. What's up?" You hum rather sweetly.
"I was just wondering if you'd seen my uh-," He cuts himself short as his eyes helplessly fall downwards. Perhaps he was dreaming or something because surely you're not wearing the very thing he came looking for? Choso's hand draws up as he unintentionally points at your chest, "Is that my hoodie?"
You look down at yourself and then back up at him and shrug, "I dunno, is it?"
Maybe it was the dim hallway lighting but you swear Choso's face is getting redder by the second, a cute hue of pink flushing out over his cheek and noticeable around the dark ink stretching across the bridge of his nose.
Then his hand flies up to the back of his head, scratching beneath his dark, loose locks of hair, "Well, unless we have the same hoodie... m'pretty sure that's mine." He mumbles on.
"Oh." Is the only warning he receives before he watches your hands meet the bottom of that same hoodie, and then lift.
Oh fuck. Choso's eyes widen and all the hairs at the back of his neck seem to stand up as he watches the way you thoughtlessly pull his hoodie off of your body, revealing the very sheer tank-top you have on underneath and the lack of pants below that.
While living with you was easy, truly, there were times like this where Choso wondered if you even saw him as a man. Or if maybe you were just really comfortable around him. Because in what other world would you take off his hoodie right in front of him whilst clad in nothing more than a tank-top and a dark purple pair of panties that he's all too familiar with?
Not that you knew about the last part of that but, still. He's allowed what feels like a minute of staring and drooling before his face is met with that same hoodie of his!
"Was that all?" You ask smoothly, as if you hadn't nearly flashed him and then thrown his own clothes back at him like it was nothing.
His head nods rapidly from beneath his sweatshirt, refusing to move his body just yet in fear of where his hands may find themselves, and waiting until he hears your bedroom door shut again.
As he's left in the hallway to his own devices, Choso's slow to remove the jacket from his head. He holds it out to inspect for a moment and notices a wet patch near the ends of it. His mind immediately goes somewhere dirty.
Did you... use his hoodie how he wants to think you did?
Choso looks back up at your door and gulps. Then his mouth twitches and before he knows it, he’s smiling rather smug-like. If his thoughts are correct then that would mean you got off to how he smells and—he brings his hoodie up to his nose and inhales—luckily for him, the cologne this fabric in particular is doused in, just so happens to be his favorite.
Which is exactly why Choso goes on to make said cologne his only scent.
Following this little act of his is an abundance of his shirts and hoodies going missing. You only got caught wearing them just that one time but, he doesn’t need to see you in his clothes to know you’re the one stealing them.
It’s quite obvious, in his humble opinion. No matter how many times you come to tell him he must’ve lost it or misplaced it somewhere. As if. The man barely leaves the apartment!
And while that’s nothing to brag about, it is undoubtedly the truth.
——
Day Thirty-Four: Indirect Cumshots.
This is where things really start to go from bad, to worse.
The two of you now have a mutual habit of stealing one another’s clothes. You know for sure Choso gets off with your stuff since he mostly takes your panties, skirts, bras, shirts, shorts, and shoelaces?!—all in that order.
What other use for these items could he possibly have if not for sexual satisfaction?
The same questions travels throughout Choso’s mind whenever he wonders why his shirts, hoodies, and jackets go missing. Except, his only issue with it—outside of it being an inconvenience whenever he needs to dress himself—is that he’s still not fully sure whether or not he’s right about your use for them.
Especially since you’ve worn a few of his clothes around the apartment without a care in the world, blaming it on the mixed laundry whenever asked about it. Naturally he believes you, but he can’t deny the fact that he desperately hopes you’re lying to him.
Just the thought of you having your nose buried into his clothes while your fingers play with the neglected cunt in between your legs, your thighs clenching whenever you get close, and mouth breathing out moans of his name makes Choso’s mind go blank.
He’s never had sex before so he hopes that doesn’t turn you off—wanting nothing more than for it to be you that changes this some day.
Above all that, and back to this whole clothing fiasco, Choso has found another way to satisfy his doubts.
In the event that you really weren’t taking his clothes to fuck yourself in, he had a backup plan. By this point Choso had accepted the fact that he’d become nothing more than a dirty pervert since you moved in. So much so that he figured if he could jerk off to indirect kisses from you…
…He could indirectly cum on you too.
Now, now, he knows that sounds bad at first. But he swears it’s really not!
It technically started when he accidentally came on one of your blankets.
He’d been in the living room—doing what any perv would do—rubbing his bare cock against the last place in which you’d sat on the couch. You weren’t home so he wasn’t worried at all about getting caught, thrusting his dick all slanted against the cushions, and letting his precum smear sloppily all over where you were sitting.
“Nngh-,” Choso cared little about holding back his sounds whenever you weren’t home, this moment being the most prime example of this.
His hand loosely kept his cock from sliding all over the place, thumb lightly hovering over his base so that he could have some sort of rhythm in his movements.
He was bare naked, whole body flushed from how hot ‘n bothered he found himself. You looked especially pretty that day. He doesn’t even remember where you said you were going but he does remember the glimpse of your panties he got when you got up from the couch and walked over towards the door in that unfairly short skirt of yours.
It was the same black pair he fucked his cockhead against just three days ago and now you were wearing them and you didn’t have the slightest clue. That fabric would be hugging your pussy for hours and you were oblivious to the fact that his cum had been pooling against it not too long ago.
Fuck, the thought drives him straight over the edge, causing him to stumble against the couch as he fists at his dick. Choso tosses his head back and begins to fuck his hand imagining it was you—gushy spurts of cum spilling out from his plump head in varying directions before he even realizes it.
Heavy pants departed from his mouth as he stroked himself through his high and let whimpers exit his throat. By the time he calmed down, he looked below himself to see that he not only came all over your seat—the splatter of his cum mirroring the way it probably would if he ever came on your ass—but he also accidentally shot some of it onto your blanket.
The same blanket you bury your face under whenever you two watch a movie that’s a little too gruesome, the same blanket you cuddle yourself under, and the same blanket that sometimes get smothered in between your thighs whenever you have it hugging your body a certain way.
Choso tilts his head a little and that’s when it hits him. Just like the time you two had shared a water bottle and indirectly kissed… him cumming on your favorite blanket is no different than him cumming on you, right?
His brows meet. Is that bad to think? If he cums on more of your stuff, does that mean he’s always cumming on you?
Has he technically finished inside you since he’s done so inside your panties more times than he can count?
Shit.
It’s from then on that Choso begins to purposefully release a load on things you use all the time. And just as doing this to your blanket has been one of the most perverted things he'd done so far, so was doing the same to your favorite mug.
He just woke up with the fattest tent in his pants that morning, he had to do something about it! And you can’t blame him when he ignored the erection and joined you for breakfast anyway, watching your lips mold themself around the rim of the dish, gulping deeply until the liquid inside was all gone...
Choso barely felt like himself after you left. He rushed into the kitchen and searched the sink for the cup you used, pulling his cock out and letting it slap against the porcelain. He’s sure this is your favorite mug because of how expensive it is so he knew he had to be careful.
Even so, that didn’t stop him from dragging his dick around its edges—right where your lips and tongue had been. After which he spent the next few minutes emptying his balls into the mug until it was a quarter full with his seed.
This was by far the most depraved thing he’d done so far.
Only for that feeling to get worse in his chest when he watched you use the same cup the following morning, humming at a slightly different pitch as if a new flavor had been added to your beverage.
He couldn’t bear to meet your eyes afterwards. You basically just drank his cum and you didn’t know.
That’s horrible. You’d totally hate him if—
“Did you buy a new dish soap or something?” Your voice breaks him away from his thoughts of impending guilt.
Choso’s head flies up and his eyes, wide and dopey brown, set on you with that intensive warmth you always enjoy. “Huh?” He gapes.
You grin, “I asked if you bought a new dish soap.” Then you shrug all cheekily, “My mug smells really nice for some reason.”
Yeah, probably because he spent an hour cleaning it after he did something so sinful to it…
Your roommate shakes his head, “No, no, I didn’t buy anything new.” He tells you.
The conversation ends around there as you nod and then return to your breakfast, thinking nothing more of it.
Meanwhile Choso feels guilt in between his legs stirring up again and some weird sense of pride in his chest swelling.
Which is exactly why he doesn’t stop there. Although he always cleans up thoroughly after these indirect cumshots of his—it never fails to fill him with pride when he watches you use the same things he’s soiled.
Forks, spoons, straws—which were hell to clean—your phone while you were sleeping one time, pictures of you, etc. In more ways than one, Choso’s basically marked and claimed you as his own via spilling his seed all over you.
——
Day Forty-Eight: Shame? Never heard of her.
The cumshots were one thing, of course. Starting to see your face in every pornographic video he watches is another. So is lightly stroking himself while sitting right next to you and talking to you about his day.
But fucking your pillow when you’re not home, pretending that it’s you, while playing some random audio of yours in the background? Now that was the final straw.
Choso can't even begin to explain nor understand what exactly has gotten into him.
At least when he'd done all those other nasty things with you in mind, he felt bad directly after the fact—apologizing to you via being extra sweet and kind in ways that'd earn him lovely praises from you in return.
It seems like that's a lost art to him now, though.
The man had walked into your room in search of his headphones, the ones he let you borrow last night and now needs to properly enjoy his porn. He hadn't planned to do anything dirty in your room. No, never.
But when he got in there he was thrown off by you leaving a pair of panties on your bed. Not just any pair though, the red pair.
Now, these panties in particular had a bit of a story to them. Choso knows you only wear them when you go out to hook-up with somebody and if they’re sitting on your bed now, that means you saw someone recently or were planning to.
Either way, he doesn’t really want that to happen.
He hasn’t quite revealed any of his intentions nor feelings to you (or at least he doesn’t think he has), but that doesn’t mean he’s immune to feeling possessive over you. You were his roommate, after all.
Maybe this is why he ends up on your bed, grabbing the pillow you sleep on and hauling it up towards his face for a good sniff. The fumes flow through his nostrils and send a rush of blood straight down to his cock.
Partially because he can smell remnants of his cologne lingering in the cottony fabric, which could only mean one thing—you'd slept in his clothes before. Or something like that, anyway.
Halfway through his pillow sniffing, and with a half-hard cock forming in his pants, he hears his phone chime from within his pocket. The chime in question is one he specifically set for you so he wastes not even a second digging for his phone and pulling it out.
Your contact sits center on his screen as it unlocks, revealing to him a voice message you'd just sent.
Choso gulps.
You've sent him a few voice messages in the past, having felt too lazy to type stuff out, but it never fails to make him nervous before pressing play. And right now was absolutely no different.
"Hey Cho, when you get a chance—hahh, shit." Oh? Do his ears decieve him or was that a breathy pant from you? Rewinding the recording a few seconds, "Hey Cho, when you get a chance—hahh, shit. Sor-," He cuts the voice message off and then follows suit with his phone, turning it over and looking up to the ceiling for the moment.
Did you... have any idea of the things you did to this man?
Tossing the question, he tries again.
"Hey Cho, when you get a chance—hahh, shit." There's a short pause as he hears you taking a deep breath, "Sorry, when you get a chance, can you order takeout from the same place as last week before I get home?"
Takeout, of course. Of course. What else would you have sent him a voice message for?
...Certainly not for what he was about to do with it.
You were out at the gym so that little pant of yours should've been expected but he must've forgotten by the time he played the message. His thumb keeps finding itself repeating the same part of your recording, within the first few seconds when that pant, followed by a sweet curse of exhaustion dares to leave your lips.
It's stupid, really. You made one little noise and said one word he's heard from you a thousand times and yet he's already plopping down on your bed, your pillow still in hand, and his legs slowly spreading out so his poor, hardening cock has room to breathe.
Then Choso saves the message to his phone, not thinking twice as he goes on to edit it within his camera roll so that the few seconds of panting and cursing can replay over and over until he's had his fill of it.
After a good five times of replaying those gorgeous few seconds you'd given him, an idea Choso simply cannot ignore is born.
He doesn't recognize himself at all as he tosses your pillow over, snatches up those panties you had lying around and turns around to hover over the two items.
This is so fucked, and he knows it but it's hard to care. One moment he's starring at the assortment of material he has here and the next, he's got your pillow snug under the fabric of your panties. His thumb traces the edge of it just as it would if you were wearing them, swiping up heavily against the center where your pretty slit would be.
Fuck, he should stop.
His thumb glides back down and he shifts against the mattress, knees digging into the plush of it, and hot breaths tumbling out of his lungs. Then his fingers pinch at each side of your panties before he tugs, cleanly ripping the cloth just enough to create a small hole.
He winces upon doing so, knowing damn well he's getting worse by the second.
Choso pauses for a moment and grabs his phone to open his photos. His thumb swiftly swipes through his camera roll until he finds a picture of you, and along with it, he's managed to have your little panting curse combo playing on repeat.
And that's all he needed because now he's got a hole ripped into your pillow and although it was very cottony wrapping around the head of his dick, he couldn't be bothered to care. His imagination was running rampant and all he could picture was you splayed out beneath him, letting him use your body to strip him of his virginity.
He's so sure of how absolutely warm your pussy would be, despite never being inside one or even setting his eyes on one (in person) before. You'd squeeze him nice 'n tight, wouldn't you? Suck him in deeper even when he knows he can't handle that and tries to pull himself back?
God, he's getting dizzy in his own arousal and his precum is serving as lube inside this stupidly dry pillow of yours. It doesn't even feel good but every time he opens his eyes and sees your panties ripped open, his cock bulging in between where he'd torn them, he cares less and less.
Not to mention how you'll be sleeping on this same pillow soon, so the faster he cums inside of it, the faster he can say he's indirectly spilled his cum on your face.
Which is precisely why his hips are picking up their pace, even as he falls over and ends up having to hold his hunched body up with one very unsteady hand.
"Fuck," The curse falls from his lips in sync with the one that fell from yours in that recording—which is still playing in the background of his misdeeds, by the way. Then his visions suddenly become clearer while his movements grow more janky, eyes journeying to the back of his skull in pure bliss.
He swears he can see you under him right now, feel the pretty walls of your pussy clenching around his cock because it's too big for you to take with the way he's rutting forward right now. You'd tell him to slow down a little, no?
Choso steadies the pace of his pelvis just a faction as he catches his breath, "Gonna cum soon." He whispers to the imaginative version of you he's got underneath him.
How would your hands feel pushing or even pulling at his waist, trying to get him to reach deeper inside you despite his dick being much too big for you? Is it cocky of him to think that?
His bottom lip fwips out a little as he pouts, eyes growing teary from how stimulating this is for him. He's never wanted to fuck someone so badly. All these weeks of teasing and sneaking around to commit the most debauched of acts in your name... when would things come to a breaking point? When would you catch onto the hints he's not even throwing??
Ugh, all these questions leave Choso frustrated. So frustrated that now he's applied all his weight to your pillow, fulling humping his fat cock into the makeshift hole. You'd feel so much better than this stupid pillow but the realization of that does little to stop his fingertips from digging into your sheets as he grits his teeth and then spills his first load into it.
"Fuckfuckfuck-," Choso mutters under his breath as he tugs all his inches back a little before diving them right back in. His seed floods throughout the cottony insides of your cushion, making everything creamy.
He ends up having to bite down on your sheets just to hold back the sounds he begins to let out as he drives himself straight into overstimulation with a lack of halting his movements. You'd let him do this to you, right? Fuck multiple loads into you? Breed you?
Hell, what does Choso—who spends majority of his time thinking and fantasizing about you without ever feeling the sexual touch of a woman—know about breeding?
All these damn questions have had the man so distracted that he never realized how much his hand had bumped into his idle phone screen, having somehow managed to capture all of his past few events—which consisted of him moaning your name out and muttering filthy things he doesn't much understand—on camera.
But, that's not the worst part about all this.
The worst part about all this is that by the time Choso finishes up with properly breeding your pillow, he went to finally swipe his phone up, and in doing so he hit send on everything he just recorded.
Now, bear in mind that you never received any sort of response to your innocent takeout request. So really imagine your shock to hear nearly twenty minutes worth of audio porn from your roommate. Actually, scratch that, imagine how quickly you got wet from opening your text thread with Choso to see a video from him.
Because it wasn't just audio he'd accidentally captured, but an entire production of him fucking your pillow.
Shit.
——
Day Sixty-Nine: The Copy-Cock Incident.
Ever since that day, things have been weird between you and Choso.
You came home and didn't say a word to him, didn't even look at him or acknowledge him, and proceeded to hide away in your room for... the next few days or so.
By the time Choso saw you again, you pretended to be completely normal and made him feel like you'd forgotten all about the video he sent you. In fact, you even talk to him as if he'd never done anything wrong.
Weird.
The man was naturally uneasy around you for every day that followed, feeling his skin crawl with guilt every single time he was in front of you. There was nothing he could do about it either, anytime he tried to bring it up or apologize, you'd shut the conversation down or change the subject. It was almost like you didn't want him to apologize for it.
Does that mean you were silently thanking him for it? Did you perhaps like the video?
Choso's unsure. Like, severely unsure.
If you thought he was nervous and awkward around you before than he's gotten a million times worse after the whole video thing.
But today—the sixty ninth day in which you've been living with him—he's finally given the clearest answer to all his questions. All his awkwardness and shyness flies straight out the window the moment Choso comes home to see you sitting rather weirdly in his designated spot on the couch.
He made small talk with you while grabbing a bottle of water for himself from the kitchen, hearing this notable waver in your voice that he simply couldn't ignore.
What Choso didn't know quite yet was that he'd came home far earlier than you expected him to. So now you were left to maintain casual conversation with him as if there wasn't inches of thick silicone stuffed inside your cunt right now.
"—and they're dropping a sequel too, can you believe it?" Choso's voice reverberates throughout the fine walls of your apartment and your hips squirm slightly.
You don't think he ever noticed it but you always found his voice to be especially sexy. And after you got that video of him fucking your pillow—which you've replayed a concerning amount of times since—you think your attraction to his voice has only worsened.
You never knew someone with a tone that deep could whimper and whine so sweetly. The mere reminiscent thought of it has you lifting your body up an inch or two, before you sink back down onto the dildo you have beneath you.
Then your eyes threaten to close and you nibble on your bottom lip to stop yourself from making any sudden noises.
Clearing your throat instead, "Really? That sounds—"
"Are you okay?" Choso cuts off, having fully entered the living room with you now.
His eyes narrow at you as you make contact with them, watching how he's got a single brow cocked up and one hand at his hip—the other busy drawing his perspiring bottle of water up to his lips. Instead of answering him immediately, you sit there and watch the movement of his mouth for an unhealthy number of seconds.
Choso's lips press against the opening of his water oh-so-effortlessly, his tongue swiping out to capture any liquid that imperils to escape his mouth, and his throat shifting along with each unwavering gulp he takes.
When his mouth detaches from the bottle, your eyes are glued to the small breath he lets out before he tilts his head. Then his hand waves out your way, "Hello?"
You shake out of your little daze and cringe at yourself internally, "Huh? Oh-, yeah, mhm. I-I'm fine."
Choso nods his head slowly as if he definitely does not believe you. Then you see the way his eyes drop down to the blanket concealing your lower half, and his feet move against the floor to carry him over to the empty spot on the couch beside you. "Are you sure? You look a little..." His eyelid lower a fraction and he clears his throat, "Stiff?"
You wanted to move around and reposition yourself to show him that you're totally fine but it was a little difficult to do so when you had a sex toy poking up inside you. "I'm fine, Cho. Don't worry about it," You tell him.
He's entirely unconvinced. After living with you for a little over two months, he can confidently say he knows you and your body language like the back of his hand.
So, he leans back against the couch—eyes still trained on your ever little move—and then rests one of his arms against the backside of it, leaning closer to you. "It's kinda hard not to worry about it when you're looking at me like that."
You blink. "Like what?"
"Like you've been caught doing something wrong," He says with a breathless scoff following, "Did something happen?"
"N-No," You breathe out as quickly as you can.
Choso's gaze gets impossibly firmer on you, "You're lying."
Looking away for a split second, your arms move to fold beneath your chest, "Since when did you become so intuitive?"
"I've always been this intuitive," He tells you.
An uncomfortable beat of silence passes, and unfortunately for you, his talking is not helping your situation right now. Every word that vacates his mouth has you soaking both the item you're sitting on and the couch below it.
"So," His fingers idly drum against the back of the couch, "Are you gonna tell me what's wrong or...?"
You scoff, "Nothing's wrong, Choso."
He waits exactly ten loooong seconds before cracking a smirk, "So move."
"What?" You gasp.
He's still starring at you with the same unconvinced look on his face, "If there's nothing wrong, move."
You wave your arm out in a dismissive gesture before rolling your eyes and turning your head elsewhere, "You're being annoying over nothing."
Choso sizes you up, drinking in every inch of your noticeably rigid frame. "And something's wrong with you but you won't tell me what. Are you in pain? Did you hurt yourself in an embarrassing way? C'mon, if that's the case, I promise I won't make fun of you for it."
God, you hated when he acted like this. Sometimes Choso cared too much for his own good. He almost walked in on you touching yourself one night and wouldn't leave you alone until he set his eyes on your face to make sure you were okay.
You turn your head back towards him and sigh. You knew he knew what was going on here. Otherwise, why would he be pressing you to tell him what you were up to like this?
"You walked in at a bad time, that's all," You admit to him.
Choso's brows scrunch up all cutely, innocence etched into his sight as it softens on you. "What do you mean?"
How the fuck are you supposed to explain that you were in the middle of bouncing up and down a dildo—that's actually a direct copy of his cock—just moments before he walked in, and now the damn thing is nestled inside you??
"Well," You pause, heart racing a mile a minute as he stares you down like you're the only person who's every word has had him on the edge of his very seat. Then you start to fidget with your fingers in your lap and let your eyes drift away, "I was in the middle of something, and—"
You notice his legs spreading apart and his hips rolling up slowly from your peripherals. Before you can even finish, "In the middle of what?" Choso asks.
He knows.
You look at his face, and the way he's staring at you now is enough to make the heat pooling below get impossibly hotter. You can't help but squeeze your legs together, which causes the cock inside you to slip deeper.
Then your face twists up in reaction before you can help it and Choso watches the entire thing—not missing the movement in your thighs, the breathy moan you let out, and the way your fingers curl into the blanket you have neatly clutched over your body.
Oh.
Choso drags his slightly salivating tongue over his lips to wet them and then releases a short, unnerved chuckle. "I interrupted you, huh?" He asks rhetorically, voice husking a pitch deeper.
You nod your head, aching to move your body to satisfy yourself again.
"Are you embarrassed?" He goes on, trying his hardest not to move his legs out of fear you'll finally notice the boner he's been sporting this entire time.
"O-Obviously," You stammer, "But, I don't wanna talk about it. Just—"
"Don't talk then," He huffs, feeling something starved resting all thickly against the tip of his tongue. "And don't let me stop you."
Your breath tangles, "What?"
His eyes glide up and down your body thrice—seamlessly undressing you through those desperately blown-out pupils of his. "...You were playing with yourself, right?" He questions lowly.
"Something like that, yeah,” You reply.
A singular moment passes between you two before he finally says fuck it and looks at your face, "Can I watch?"
Your cunt involuntarily clenches around the dildo and you squirm, "Choso, I..."
He gives you a surprisingly calm, reassuring smile, “You know you can say no, ri—"
"I know that!" You huff, turning away as your face burns from the heat of embarrassment.
Then, without giving him a vocal answer, you finally shift around in your seat. He watches as you lean back against the corner-part of the couch and move your hand to the blankets edge before lifting it.
The first thing he notices as the cover is removed is that you're in his hoodie—the one he just wore yesterday!
You slouch your body a bit and move the blanket to the side as you slip from sitting to laying back, peeling your legs apart nice ‘n wide to give him the most sinful display of that dildo sliding a few inches out of you. Then your hand reaches down to make contact with the base of it and you bite your lip before languidly pulling it out of you.
Your pussy lips hug the silicone neatly whilst it schlicks its way out of your hole and you release a breath you weren’t aware you’d been holding in. There’s a droopy string of your slick dangling from in between the dildo’s glossy tip and your pulsing entrance—all of which Choso’s is left to peer at.
You redirect the toy’s weighty tip towards your clit and roll it around slowly before tossing your head back a little and sighing in relief.
"Ohgod-," Your roommate chokes into the palm he’d slapped over his mouth all of a sudden.
His body jolts and his other fingertips dip and grind into the couch as he tries to steady himself, holding on so tight that the veins trailing his arms begin to protrude out against his muscular arms. Something in between a throaty grunt and a whine had been ripped out of his throat.
You look over at him from beneath your lashes before batting them, "Are you okay? You're the one who wanted to watch..."
He nods shortly, mumbling, "M-Mhm, m'fine."
As if you’d believe that.
You raise a brow and move the silicone away from your cunt before snorting, "Why're you making that face then?"
"Well, I kinda..." He turns his blushing face away from you completely. Voice small, "Watching that made me cum..."
"What?” You lean up a bit, propping your body up more comfortably against your elbows, “I couldn't hear you, speak up."
Choso thinks his cock is gonna hurt after all this. He turns to face you again and looks you dead in the eyes as he speaks softly, "Watching you do that made me cum."
You blink dumbfoundedly as you find yourself unable to stop the amused smile that breaks into your features, "Just like that?"
He nods.
"You didn't even touch yourself..." You snort, looking down at yourself and shrugging as you tap the dildo against your pussy. Speaking casually, "I know you're a perv 'n all but, shit, I thought you'd last a little longer than that."
Choso’s entire world freezes, "Wait, what?"
"Mmnh," You’re busy moaning as you let the tip play with your entrance—teasing yourself shamelessly right in front of him.
The fact that you just admitted you’d known he was a filthy pervert all this time, and then went back to playing with yourself like it was nothing really threw him off.
Not that he has much time to let that sink in, though. Choso is far too easily distracted by the sight of your glistening pussy below, the living room light doing well to illuminate just how pretty your wet, sopping folds look against the head of the dildo.
“O-Ohhhh fuck.” He gasps, already on the verge of pleasureful tears. “You’re…” His hand shoots down to hold his dick as if to control it—squeezing his shaft roughly before pushing at it. "You’re soakedd. Can I taste it?” Choso asks, voice cracking a little on the last word.
You flick your eyes up at him, “What?”
“Wanna lick it,” He's whispering while moving to lean down, and flashing you this voracious look from his half-lidded eyes. “Can I? Please? Can I taste you, mommy?”
The second, “What.” that falls from your lips is flat as you find yourself struggling to process just how quickly he'd positioned himself in between your plush thighs and how smoothly that name just poured off of his tongue.
“S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to uh-, call you that…” Choso grumbles awkwardly, looking away to let the moment pass before peeking back up at you, “But, can I please—“
“Why should I let you?” You interrupt rudely.
He blinks. “Huh?”
The sudden shift in tension was rather palpable since you realized it's you who's in control here, and not him. “After alllll the dirty things you’ve done in thought of me," Your head angles off to the right, "Why should I let you taste me, Choso?”
“B-Because I’ll make you feel good,” He tries to promise, his dark eyes locked up onto the unfairly gorgeous display of you—wearing his hoodie and spread out a few inches away from his waiting mouth.
His small promise does little to help his case considering how you tut, “Aw, you think so?”
“Uhuh,” Choso nods submissively.
There's a feral, burning urge inside of him to bury his face in between your legs without permission, but that same urge battles strongly against the equally as resilient urge to be pliant and await your every command.
“That’s cute," You say before holding the dildo towards him, "How about this; if you can make me cum with this, I’ll let you get your taste, yeah?”
For the first time, Choso lets his eyes capture the toy you've been using all this time. The item is... weirdly familiar. Your roommate is many things, but he's not stupid—he knows what his own dick looks like.
Not that he has the mind to question you about it right now, though. there are much more pressing matters to tend to.
Which is exactly why he's not asking you anything as he takes the toy from your hands and then looks down at your cunt. Your hole pulses as if asking to be filled and he thinks his heart skips a beat.
He can see, touch, and smell everything.
Sluggishly, Choso directs the head of the fake cock towards your entrance and applies the faintest bit of pressure before stopping the moment he feels resistance. “Uh, is it.. supposed to do that?” Choso murmurs as he looks up, “Like.. are you supposed to be this tight? Do I need to use lu—“
“Don’t tell me you’ve never had sex before," You cut off.
You've had a feeling for months that Choso was a virgin but you'd never been too sure until now.
He pouts sheepishly, “Well..."
“Just-,” You cut yourself off with a sharp exhale. “Y’know what, you're the one that wanted to taste me so bad. I’m not teaching you, figure it out.”
His chest feels like it's caving in for a moment, “What?” He'd never heard you be so.. mean. Though he'd be lying is he said he wasn't into it, “But you made a copy of my dick, I don’t think that’s fai—“
“I don’t think it’s fair that you’re in between my legs with a toy in your hands and no idea how to use it," You say with a prominent roll of your eyes. “If you wanna taste my pussy, figure it the fuck out, Choso. Make me cum."
Oh, his cock swells impossibly harder.
Then he whines, “Y-Yes ma’am..."
Choso takes a deep breath and returns his attention to your cunt. Leaning down experimentally, his lips press clumsy, open-mouthed kisses against your inner thigh before he starts working his way inward. His nose bumps against your folds a few times, but you keep watching him try his best to piece everything together.
His brows furrow a little before he glides the dildo up and nudges it under your clitoral hood, plucking it away directly after once he notices your body flinching, and then tapping the silicone back down against it in the same way he'd seen you do earlier.
“This is your clit, right?” His question is made with genuine curiosity, but something in his eyes tells you that he already knows the answer to it—he simply wants to hear you say it.
Your head bobs a little and you're already feeling a little dazed from watching him, “Uhuh…”
You could feel his searing breaths flap down against all your wet skin and it was making you more sensitive than normal. The sound of your breathy confirmation made his face light up triumphantly.
Choso waves the tip of the dildo—technically his cock—left 'n right against your clit just to tease you before he lifts it away and lets it push against your hole again. He presses it forward with more pressure than the first time and finally pokes an inch inside you, lifting his eyes to see you bite back a moan.
You were so fucking needy.
He can only imagine how hard it was for you to sit there and act like you didn't have this toy inside you all that time. Now you're more worked up than you probably would be in any normal situation.
He strips your insides of that taunting inch after a few seconds and then repeats this action over and over until he can hear it in your breathing that you're getting frustrated with him. But before you can send him any complaints, he lifts his head and hovers his lips over your clit.
“It’s so pretty, can I kiss it?” Choso asks softly.
“I…” His eyes are all glossy ‘n pleading—too irresistible for you to say no. “Yeah…" You concede, "But no licking.”
“Thank you,” Then he dives in and smothers his lips against your clit, sucking on it lightly without ever letting his tongue make contact with it.
The tip of that stupid silicone continues to pop in and out of your squelchy pussy mindlessly as Choso gets addicted to the feel of your clit against his lips.
Muttering, “S’pretty,” into the twitchy lil’ bud over ‘n over again in between the groans he's letting vibrate out. “It keeps—mwah, runnin’ from me.” He whispers against you, “Sensitive girl—she’s so fuckin’ cute.”
As soon as that praise leaves him, the entire length of the fake cock is thrusted into you and your back is forced into a nasty arch as your hands grab at the couch. A wanton, “Choso!” flying out of your mouth before you can even help it.
He plucks his lips away and glances up at you desperately, “Can I lick her now? Please. I’ll pass out if I don’t—“
“Fine,” You huff shakily, “J-Just... lick her ‘real good for me or I’ll make you stop.”
He doesn't have to be told twice whatsoever.
The next thing you feel is his tongue finally melting against your clit as the dildo is thrusted into you, stretching your saccharine walls out perfectly. Choso only fucks the toy in halfway this time though, pulling it out directly afterwards and then repeating this action many times over as if that's all you could take.
It's at complete random that he decides to fuck the entire length of it inside you, and your body flinches as the sudden gesture is paired with his tongue practically wrapping around your poor clit.
“You like that, princess?” Choso utters with a rasp, sticking his tongue out to show you how he moves it around into spelling out his name, “Like the way I flick my tongue against this pussy? Hm? Am I doin' a good job now?”
“F-Fuck. Hnngh-, yeahhh..” You purr out all softly, hips carefully rocking up to meet both his tongue and the dildo.
You hadn’t expected him to be a talker, especially since he’s never done this before. You assume he’s just saying whatever sounds right in hopes that it works, and luckily for him it always seems to.
In a matter of minutes, Choso's fucking you relentlessly with both his tongue and the copy of his cock. You could drive that toy into you at the same speed of which he's doing now, which is exactly why it's not long before you're whining for him to slow down a little since you didn't wanna cum so quickly.
It felt like he'd only just started!
And if he was doing all this with his tongue glued solely to your clit and that toy thrashing against your g-spot, you could only imagine what the entirety of his mouth would provide for you if you let him.
Even with your pleas of him slowing his pace, Choso wasn't much listening until after you came all over the dildo. He let the toy slip right out of you and held it to the side as he tried to move in and lick at your gaping hole in an attempt of finally getting a raw taste of you.
Sure, he got to savor a bit of you just from licking at your clit but that was far from enough.
You shot a hand down to grab ahold of his hair and yank his head up before that could happen. Panting, “What’re you doing?” as you furrow your brows at him.
Choso whimpers, “Y-You said I could taste you after I made you feel good.”
“Yeah," You smirk, "But not like that.”
You make a gesture towards the same toy he's steadily growing very envious of and his eyes are slow to follow along. Then he frowns because he knows exactly where this is going.
His chocolatey eyes travel along the fake veins trailing the cock and he wonders distantly how you managed to capture every essence of his sex like that. “You… You want me to suck my own…” Choso trails off instead of completing his sentence as the realization settles in.
All whilst you're laying there with the same haughty smile on your face, “You want your taste don’t you?”
A light, defeated groan evades his lips as he watches you go on to grab the dildo and hold it up towards his mouth. The slick, shining toy is absolutely coated in you—your arousal clung to the silicone in glossy streaks, and the evidence of your orgasm fragrant and sloppy against the material.
Choso's nose twitches as he catches the sweet scent of your release oozing off of it before his voice stains out. "Fuck." He breathes, watching a slow bead of your cum slide down the length of the silicone—some of it pooled at the tip where a perfect copy of his own slit had been molded.
The man can't help the way he licks his lips reflexively as he leans towards it.
"Atta' boy," You hum, tapping the head of the toy against his bottom lip and watching your wetness smear across his skin. "Open up and get your taste, c'mon."
There's a war between his pride and his raging need to satisfy your every whim, of which the latter easily wins.
Choso parts his lips and you guide the head inside, his eyes fluttering shut upon feeling your taste meet his tongue. He moans around the toy and you push more of it into his mouth, watching how pretty his lips sealing around the shaft as he begins to hesitantly suck.
"Look at youuu, sucking yourself clean," Your words come out in a breathy purr the more you watch him work his mouth around the copy of his dick. "Good boy."
His eyes open and he bobs his head forward a little more, hips rutting against the couch hard enough for the furniture to inch forward. You watch drool trickle out of his mouth and trail down his chin, feeling yourself throb each time he moans.
You knew Choso was desperate for you but this...
“Mmgh..” He groans around the faux flesh, sucking a little faster once he notices the glow of entertainment in your eyes as you watch him.
“How’s it taste, pretty boy?” You ask in that unfairly sinful tone.
Choso pops his mouth off and gives you a fucked-out little simper, “S’good, mommy.”
Your hand falters against the base of the toy for a moment as you chuff out, “Stop calling me that.”
“Sorry,” He says, not sounding the slightest bit apologetic as he returns to licking his cock clean.
After a long, drawn-out time of him practically sucking and licking the dildo brand new, he pulls away from it with a slippery, wet pop!
Then he gasps, sucking in air, and moves his arm over to wipe off the slick and saliva mix from his chin. There's a disheveled look plastered all over his face and his eyes are hazy when met with yours.
"Was that good?" You ask despite already knowing the answer.
To your surprise, Choso doesn't respond.
He just stares at you like he's debating more things than can currently be expressed through words. Then he wraps his hands around the base of the dildo, snatches it from your grasp, and tosses it across the living room like it's useless.
Halfway-glaring at you with a new look in his eyes, he leans up leisurely. His hands move to the edge of his sweatpants and you see his dick imprint practically staring at you from beyond the fabric—a concerning wet patch darkening the area.
There's something grave in his eyes as he cocks his head over and exhales heavily, “Can I give you the real thing now?”
Your thighs twitch but you hope he doesn't notice it. Trying to distract him from it by shrugging, “You think you’ve earned it?”
“I think,” His fingers dip beneath the fabric and he begins to tug his pants down, “You’re being a brat—acting like you’re not just as bad as me.”
Oh. The switch in his head had most certainly been flipped and you were not expecting it.
“What?” You puff.
“Look at you now,” He reaches out and presses the thick pad of his thumb against your clit, “Swollen, needy, aching… all for me.”
Your thighs try to shut, “T-That’s just because—“
“Shhh, shhh,” He hushes, rapidly swatting his hands over to your legs and forcing them open before you can close them, “Let me show you I’ve earned it.”
He grips at your skin until it feels like you won't move once he extracts his hold on you, swallowing up how pretty you look submitting to him now.
Choso goes to pull his dick out and your breath hitches, entire body flinching as you watch it bob out. His length spanks down against your pussy, meanly spreading your wobbly lips apart and nudging against every sensitive nerve you have there.
Your roommate doesn’t move for a moment and just sits there so you can feel his veins thumping, and watch the crown of his cock drooool silky, wet ropes of mushy cum against your abdomen. He's a mess of his own seed but he doesn't seem to care or be embarassed by it whatsoever.
After all, you're the one who got him like this.
All while he’s panting, sweat running down his skin, and face flushed beyond belief. Hovering over you, Choso tilts his head and continues on with his needy glare, “Can I fuck you now?”
“Yeah,” You don't even hesitate to whisper.
His hand moves to hold your jaw graciously but the way he tugs your face up is quite rough, “Speak up.” He demands.
“Yeah,” You say clearly, “You can fuck me, Choso.”
And that’s all he needs.
Next thing you know and Choso's tucking his thiiiiick, creamy cock into your quivering pussy, throwing his head back from the sensation of feeling you welcoming him in for the first time. He's got one hand clasped onto the couch and the other having moved to grip the top of your head so you can watch him have his way with you.
He couldn't let you miss a second of this by looking away or turning your head because you didn't want him to see how much your face twists up in pleasure. No, no, if you're gonna let him fuck you then you're gonna watch how he does it too.
Every fuckin' second of it.
That initial inch of him sinking into you had your vision blurring. The dildo you had made couldn't even begin to compare nor replicate the real thing. It doesn't twitch the way he does, doesn't end with his hips pressing forward with intentional, punishing slowness as if to get back at you for making the damn thing in the first place, and doesn't make you feel every ridge or rubbing vein against the soppiest crevices of your pussy.
"Look at that," Choso drawls, his eyes locked onto where your bodies meet, "You take me s'fucking well—always knew you would." He admits.
But then he stops halfway with no warning, no nothing. You're left impaled and clenching around him, wanting and needing more desperately whilst he just waits. He watches how your walls flutter around him as if to bed for the rest but he still doesn't move.
Your voice feels broken, "C-Choso.."
"Hm? Something wrong, princess?" He coos innocently, "You want me to keep going?"
You nod desperately and the movement makes his hand grip at your skull tighter by just a fraction. Then he sinks in a little deeper and you deliver a trembling moan in response.
He doesn't even sound like the sweet, respectful Choso you know has he tuts, "I can't hear you."
Through gritted teeth, "Yes—fucking move, Cho. Please, fuck me." you beg.
The edges of his lips curl, "Thaaat's more like it."
And then he's bucking the rest of his plump cock into you, bottoming out just the way both of you have always desired. The fluid motion has air fleeing from your lungs and your back angling up ‘n away from the couch, a shamefully loud cry—that you’re sure your neighbors will send complaints about later—leaping out of your trachea.
Choso sets a nasty rhythm inside you, thrusting without a concern in the world about the way the couch is squeaking and creaking beneath your bodies.
Shit. At this rate the dame thing could just break and he still wouldn’t give a fuck.
His hand tightens within your hair and he pulls at your head, “Goddd, you’ve no idea how long I-, hahh… waited for this. Need you to watch, baby. Watch how I fuck this pretty pussy.”
You feel his stout cockhead flog up against your cervix repeatedly, almost like he means to brand himself into the area and have his cum signing his name across it permanently.
“Can’t believe you got some-, fuck—s-stupid toy to replace me. L-Like m’not right here for you,” He pants, a crisp whine slipping out somewhere in between his words. “You knew you wanted the real thing, knew you needed it. Right? Doesn’t this feel s’much better, princess?”
Your jaw is flailing open at this point and you’re a slobbering, moaning mess underneath him, “Yes, Choso. F-Feels s’good, nngh!”
A particularly puncturing thrust makes your eyes fly to the back of your head and your hand reach over to hold onto his arm, nails scratching across his skin. He smiles once he realizes he’s found the perfect spot to fuck you dumb.
Then he’s doing exactly that, pounding your body straight into the mattress and letting groans pour out of his mouth. He’s so fucked-out that he doesn’t even realize he’s drooling on you as he plows forward.
Your pussy is weeping all over his cock, lugging his every jerky inch in deeper ‘n deeper until he earns a specific twitch from you.
“O-Oh,” Choso moans again, “I found it, huh? You gonna cum on me again?” Once your head goes nodding and your pleasureful cries pitch out into airy whines, he gasps. “Give it to me then. Please? Please cum on me, lemme feel it. I wanna feel it baby—wanna feel you cum.”
His words immediately fade off into whimpers when he feels you doing exactly as he’s begged you to—your orgasm practically crashing through you and causing your body to convulse around him. Choso fucks you through it like his life depends on it, eager not to disappoint.
Then he’s right there with you—even though he technically came again quite some time ago, but both of you were too fucked-out to realize—and you feel globs of his cum gushing all throughout your pussy, the mess of releases getting mixed with one another with the way his hips insistently continued on.
Muttering, “Take it, take it, take it-,” over and over mindlessly whilst your cunt shuddered around him.
It’s not until his hips come to a sharp stop that both of you manage to catch your breath in an synchronized gasp of air. Choso’s body topples down over you and you feel his cock twitching as it goes flaccid inside you.
Your bodies remain still for a minute or two before he lifts his head to look at your face, leaning in to plaster kisses on your cheek and whisper intimate things that your ears don’t quite catch.
When your ears come in tune with what he’s saying, "—and about that video... I wanted to apologize for that. A-And for everything else." you hear him finishing off with.
To which you let out a little dream-like sigh, "Choso… I literally have a camera in my room. I've known about what you've been doing for quite a while now. You don't have to apologize."
"Oh, you-," He pauses and lifts his body. "Wait, what?"
You're play-fighting with Aang when he suddenly traps you in a headlock. You freeze, sagging in his hold before a whimper escapes your lips. Aang startles before immediately releasing you, and he opens his mouth to apologize until he sees the look on your face.
Later that night, he's got your back in a deep arch as he folds himself over you, his chest plastered to your back with your neck tucked in the crook of his elbow. The hold tightens, and your eyes roll with each snap of your hips. Aang shudders as he drives his cock deeper inside you, the flushed, fat tip striking your g-spot like a dart to a bullseye.
"D-didnt know you liked this." Aang pants hotly into your ear.
"Me either." You choke out and Aang's hips stutter.
He groans out a curse at how wrecked your voice sounds, and you drip even more at how good the ancient language sounds on his tongue. Aang can feel how your gooey walls keep clamping around him like a spring trap and he just knows you're close.
sukuna had you in a mean mating press , he was forcing himself deeper in you. “fuck girl— your cunt is hugging me tight.’
“ryo move i have to pee.’ you squealed , feeling that weird sensation in your stomach. you tried to push at sukuna’s lower stomach but his third hand grabbed yours and pinned it to the side. ‘sukuna please.’ you begged , you didn’t want to pee all over him.
sukuna shook his head , speeding up his thrust. “fuck that. take my cock you slut.’ your mind went blank and your vision was blurry. the feeling you knew all too well was approaching and sukuna was chasing it.
‘kuna please. i need to pee.’ you cried. that pressure inching closer and closer. but sukuna didn’t stop , his fourth hand reached over to rub your swollen clit. sending shock waves throughout your already overwhelmed body.
you couldn’t hold it anymore with the amazing pleasure sukuna was giving you ; your body couldn’t hold it in. ‘shit— ryo i’m cumming.’ you moaned out , your free hand scratching at sukuna’s chest.
you legs started shaking rapidly , before your juices sprayed out onto sukuna. your mouth gaped open filling the room with a strings of moans and squeals. ‘shitttt- ahhghggghh kunaaaa fuckkkk—.’
sukuna came as he watched you unravel. your juices spayed all over his chest and cock , making the bed a mess. it was a beautiful sight. his thrust slowed , as he came deep in you.
‘that’s a good girl.’ sukuna praised as he rubbed your clit once more , your body jerking with overstimulation. you pushed his hand away as your body recovered from that crazy sensation.
sukuna pulled you into a sloppy , wet kiss. he moaned in your mouth before slowly pulling away. a string of yours and his salvia dripped onto your chin and chest. sukuna licked it up slowly before spiting it back in your mouth.
‘you need to squirt more often brat.’ sukuna teased. ‘you made a big mess tho.’
‘shut up ryomen.’ you rolled your eyes.
time invest in a waterproof mattress cover. because sukuna wasn’t stopping there.
him walking into the kitchen one morning in only his underwear, cock hard and heavy enough it bounces against his thigh when he walks. he doesnt acknowledge it; he pours himself a cup of coffee and gives you a nod.
"you're staring at me," he says.
neither one of you have acknowledged the tension between you. the way he watches your lips and the way you undo your bikini tops when you sunbathe by the pool.
"I'm just really hungry all of a sudden," you say. "Your son fed me before he left, but he just... didnt fill me up."
the next day, you get your coffee in just your panties and your favorite bra. he's back again, just as hard as he scooches behind you to grab the pot from the percolator. his cock is press against your ass and you can feel how thick he really is.
"did you get your fill this morning?" he asks from over your shoulder.
"no," you press back slightly. "I'm ravenous."
"You think he'd be more like his father. I always make sure my woman are stuffed."
You two get into a habit of hugging when you say good morning. He wraps his arms around you and keeps you tight so you can feel him against your stomach. Sometimes he lifts you on to the counter to "hug you better". like that his cock is pressed right up against your cunt, angled perfectly as if he's about to enter you.
"Best hug we've ever had," he whispers with a roll of the hips.
