instead of getting the girl, gojo just got her pregnant! how's he supposed to win you over when you only seem to see him as the baby daddy?
synopsis: when the frat president becomes the father of your daughter, the last thing you expected were his brothers to start bidding to be the step dad! can he prove that he's serious about starting a life together for the three of you - or will someone swoop in to steal both his girls?
pairing: frat!gojo x milf!reader x frat!geto (also starring frat!sukuna)
content: mdni!! fluff, angst, and smut, college au, unrealistic frat depictions, parties, drinking, accidental pregnancy, raising a baby, they all want to be the daddy, lots of pining, gojo being lovesick and stupid, denying feelings, possessive geto + gojo, titty sucking, lactation kink, heavy jealousy
art cr: @zeilorene0 on x div cr: @/tsumiinum
Going on a date with your baby daddy's best friend was probably not the smartest thing you could do.
"Would you like some wine?" Geto murmured softly, peering up at you from above his menu, the dim lighting in the restaurant casting shadows across his sharp features.
"Um, no thanks," you declined, glancing awkwardly around the restaurant as you felt the weight of his stare settle on your exposed cleavage, hyper aware of the low cut of your dress and the way your breasts were beginning to ache from how long it'd been since you pumped. "I'll just take a water."
Had Gojo remembered what time to feed her? Was she cranky right now, crying and wailing and beating on his broad chest waiting for you to come back?
"Thinking about Umi?" He softly asked, his honeyed voice soothing the ache in your chest as you offered him an apologetic smile.
"Is it that obvious?" You asked, swallowing the lump in your throat as you shoved down your discomfort, adjusting the straps of your chest and praying that your tits wouldn't leak through the nipple pads you slipped inside your bra.
"It's cute," Geto reassured you, reaching across the table to snag your hand, drawing a delicate star over your skin as you tried to match his smile. "You're a good mom."
You wanted to take the compliment.
But your brain was still unfortunately stuck on the white-haired father of your child who was probably pacing your apartment praying for you to come back any second.
Who would most certainly freak the fuck out if he found out where you were - and who you were with.
It's not like you meant to start sorta seeing Geto.
You weren't even sure if you could qualify it as dating.
He'd been around maybe even more than Gojo had since you got pregnant, and stayed afterwards. Staying late whenever Gojo wasn't there, helping you wash baby bottles and rocking Umi to sleep when you were too exhausted to keep your eyes open. Folding your laundry and keeping up with the chores, insisting that you shower and rest and take care of yourself first, murmuring softly that you were working hard enough as it was with that casual, crooked smile of his.
Until one afternoon, instead of your daughter falling asleep in his lap, you had, waking up to him stroking your hair with one hand and cradling Umi in his other.
And some awful part of you asked yourself what if he'd been her father instead?
Gojo might have flowers delivered to your door and fuck you when he wormed his way into spending the night with the excuse of helping on the night shift with Umi, but he hadn't been there before.
Not for half your appointments. Not for your labor.
God, if it hadn't been for Geto, he would've missed her birth.
He had been the one you met first. The one you knew better before his best friend went and knocked you up. The entire reason you even showed up to that party, chasing a stupid crush you were sure wouldn’t even notice you.
But he wasn’t the one you ended up sleeping with - or the one whose name was on the birth certificate.
"You deserve a night for yourself," Geto coaxed, and you knew that he was right. That you couldn't be there for her if you couldn't take care of yourself. Or let someone else help you do it.
Besides, wasn't it half Gojo's fault she existed anyway?
Maybe he’d worn the wrong condom size, but you were the one too stubborn to ask him to pay for a Plan B after it broke, clinging to your stupid pride. Too embarrassed to even face him after you hooked up until you absolutely had to, showing up to his frat house expecting him to shoo you away to get an abortion and slam the door in your face.
Perhaps if he had, you wouldn't feel the hints of guilt creeping in that you were sitting across from his second-in-command now, letting him say your name in that suave voice of his and tell you how pretty you looked in a dress that didn't quite fit your tits anymore.
Not that Geto seemed to mind, judging by the way you caught his stare drifting down to them no matter how chivalrous he was attempting to present himself tonight.
"It's just weird being away from her for this long," you shrugged your shoulders self-consciously, pulling back your hand to pick at the paint on your nails that was already flaking off despite the fact you'd done it only a few hours before your date.
You dropped Umi off with Gojo earlier, but he'd never watched her this long on his own either.
Would it start to become a more common thing? Afternoons or nights you swapped her so the other could go out and date around?
Despite Gojo swearing he only wanted to make this work with you, you had an incredibly difficult time picturing the campus's favorite playboy not pouring body shots on pretty girls all those Friday evenings he attended parties for his 'frat duties'.
You were sure that was just code for fucking other sorority girls and playing condom roulette to see if your daughter would get a half-sibling.
"She'll be okay," Geto reassured you, deliberately avoiding broaching who, exactly, was watching her right now.
That was the one topic the two of you tended not to discuss.
You wondered if it bothered him at all. Made him feel like shit when he held Umi and decided he'd rather be the stepdad instead of a supportive uncle figure.
Truthfully, you still couldn't understand why he decided you were worth fracturing his friendship with Gojo for.
If he had been courting you a year and a half ago, you probably would’ve been over the fucking moon. Thrilled that someone like him wanted you, but you simply weren’t the same girl.
It hadn’t slipped past you that all of Gojo's friends suddenly seemed to want you after he had you.
"Geto," you swallowed, unsure how to broach any of the thousand worries floating through your head as you worked up the nerve to bring up what had been looping through your head since he first started carving his own spot in your life for him. "You know Gojo will be pissed if he knows what we're doing right now."
"You didn't tell him?" He asked, amusement glinting in his dark eyes as you flitted your stare down to the tiny print on the menu below.
"You don't care?" You returned the question, sighing as you reluctantly looked back up at him.
"Do you want to be with him?" Suguru pressed, but you could tell be the curve of his smirk that he thought he already knew the answer, he just wanted to hear you say it.
Being with Gojo had never been a part of your previously well-thought out life plan. You had him pegged from the moment you saw him at a frat party your friend dragged you to during your first year here, surrounded by beautiful women and yes men, alcohol being poured in his pretty mouth. The kind of spoiled, stuck-up prick who breezed through life like they were used to winning first place just for existing. Handed the world on a silver platter.
And now he thought you were a prize he deserved simply because he got you pregnant.
But still, you weren't about to just make it easy for Geto either.
Not when you didn't even know if he really liked you, or the idea of stealing something from under Gojo's nose.
"Why do you want to be with me?" You returned his question rather than answering it, arching up an eyebrow and waiting for his response.
Even though you appreciated his help, it wasn't like you needed your support system of frat bros hanging around if all they wanted was to get in your panties.
Before he could reply though, a baby began to cry, and your head snapped up, scanning the restaurant as if it could somehow be yours, the ache in your breasts returning with a vengeance, a lot fucking harder to ignore when your tits were already confined in the tight dress you'd chosen tonight.
Maybe it was just how much you were missing her, your brain playing tricks on your ears, but it really did sound like her too, your heart squeezing and wrung dry as you glanced from table to table trying to spot where the baby was.
Wincing as you tried to readjust the strap of your dress, swallowing hard and cursing yourself for not bringing a pump or expressing the milk before you left your apartment, knowing that you'd probably have a clogged duct to deal with later. But before you could spot the baby, your waitress was returning, a practiced smile plastered on her face as she looked directly at Geto instead of you.
Probably sizing up the fact that a guy like him was a bit out of your league, or that this was a first date as she leaned over to his side and grinned at him, "Have we made up our minds?"
"I think we'll just get our food to-go," Suguru returned a polite smile to her, and a surge of panic spiked in your chest until his palm slid over yours with silent reassurance, his eyes narrowing as he slyly stole a peek at your chest like he knew why you were squirming before clearing his throat. "Baby's waiting for us back home."
The waitress's face deflated almost instantly.
Wrongly assuming that the two of you were more than just something casual. Thinking that the baby belonged to him.
"Oh, sure," she nodded numbly, regaining her composure. "What will it be?"
He ordered for both of you, and you just shuffled in your seat, caught somewhere between relief that he was freeing you from an hour and a half of discomfort and disappointment that your date would be ending like this.
But perhaps it was for the better.
Maybe it was a sign that this wasn't going to go anywhere.
And when she walked away with reassurances that she'd bring it out as soon as possible, you were about to apologize, but he just squeezed your hand as you started to softly say his name, "Geto-"
"How many times have I asked you to call me Suguru?"
You wished he didn't disarm you so effortlessly. Stalling your excuses with just a single look, with a simple motion of his thumb over your knuckle as he treated you like you were his girlfriend.
"Once the food comes out, I can go take care of you," he promised, and it wasn't until you were walking out to the car that it struck you how serious he was about that.
"You know, you don't have to-" You started, glancing down at the way he was still holding your hand in the parking lot, his fingers tightly gripping your hand and keeping you glued to his side as you tried to sound more collected than you really were. "I can just pump at home or-"
"I thought you liked it when I helped," he slyly said, teasing you in that soft voice of his, mouth curling up when your face flushed.
So what if maybe you let him get rid of your clogged ducts a couple times when Gojo was busy with work or class?
His big hands were good at it, thick fingers massaging and working the breast tissue as his lips latched on to you.
Besides, you liked the way Geto looked at you, even if it sort of scared you. The intensity in his stare, how he studied you like he was interested in every detail. How he spoke to you like you were something soft to be cradled, not just sloppy seconds or someone’s leftovers. The way he listened, his head tilted to the side as he nodded along with patience you’d never really received before.
You didn't need anyone.
Not Gojo. Not Geto.
Not even Sukuna, even if he was debatably the best when it came to helping with her or soothing her when she started to wail.
You could do it on your own.
But something about Suguru made you feel like it might be okay to be taken care of too.
“You know you can find someone better,” you bluntly blurted out as he held the car door open for you. He stopped, squinting down at you as you slid into the passenger seat.
Someone without stretch marks or, y’know, an entire baby with another man. Someone who would have all the time in the world to worship him without wanting or needing all the things you did.
“We need to work on your self-esteem,” he remarked, arching up an eyebrow with a sigh as he nodded towards your seatbelt to remind you to buckle up.
And before you could retort back that he hadn’t disagreed, he was shutting the door and walking back around to his side.
Like he could somehow anticipate what you were preparing to say, his mouth had already parted when he got in too, “If you want me to tell you how much I like you, all you have to do is ask.”
Suguru knew exactly how to shut you up.
And five minutes later, he had your dress pulled down, both breasts freed and exposed as he groped and squeezed and sucked you dry. Thick fingers dimpling your skin as he sank them in deep, his lips wrapped around your sensitive nipple and greedily drinking up every ounce of milk you leaked out.
Tongue dragging back over the peaked buds whenever any escaped, your fingers lacing through his dark hair as you tilted your head back and scrunched your eyes shut. Trying not to moan at the way he was holding you, one arm slipped around your back to pull you closer as he leaned across the center console to suck on your swollen breasts.
The to-go boxes half-forgotten in the backseat, the radio playing some slow, soft song as he groaned into your nipple, his sharp teeth grazing over it to send a sharp shudder through your body.
Glancing up at you with delight glimmering in his stare, possessively pulling you in as he popped off your chest.
“You’re wasted on Satoru."
And even though he didn’t say it, you could feel it.
Geto thought it should’ve been him.
ꕤꕤꕤ
Gojo wanted to bang his head against the steering wheel until the air bag went off.
Maybe if it broke his nose, he could get enough sympathy points from you that you’d stop seeing Suguru. And he’d never have to see his best friend sucking on your breasts from across the parking lot.
Umi was asleep in her car seat in the back, leaving him to his own embarrassing thoughts as he forced himself to turn the key in the ignition. To start the car after he completely and utterly failed the mission he should've never gone on in the first place.
You'd maim him if you knew he was spying on you with Suguru. Maybe accuse him of being a creep and somehow think even less of him than you already did.
And despite how much it fucking sucked, he forced himself to pull out of the parking lot and leave you there with your tit in Suguru's mouth, feeling like a moron for thinking tonight would ever end any differently.
Suguru was a good guy.
Didn't have the reputation he did. Was quiet where he was loud, soothing where he was brash. Wouldn't make you wonder where he was or what he was doing or who he'd been with before.
Of course, you'd choose him.
Gojo guessed he should just be grateful you'd have to at least spend the next eighteen years co-parenting with him. Attending parent-teacher conferences and planning birthdays and holidays.
But even when he made it back to your place, warming up a bottle to feed Umi, watching her big blue eyes sleepily blink up at him as her chubby little fingers still tried to grab it, he couldn't fucking imagine having to share her with Suguru.
Seeing her look up at his best friend and babble dada to him, at the apparently growing possibility he might miss her first steps, her first words, her first everything and Suguru might get them instead.
Spiraling long after he put her back down in her crib, laying flat on your couch and staring at the ceiling to count the seconds until you came back.
God, since when had he gotten so pathetic?
Why couldn't he just figure it out and fix this? What would it take for you to give him a try?
Did you want him to grow out his hair? Start watching pretentious foreign films?
He still didn't have a clue by the time he heard your key in the lock, sitting up straight and smoothing out the wrinkles and spit-up stain on his shirt as he automatically started walking towards the entrance, nearly running into you when you walked in.
"Hey," he muttered, running his hands through his hair and pretending he didn't notice how your lip gloss had smeared, or how stray strands of your hair were sticking out as you peeled your purse off your shoulder and hung it up by the door.
"Hey," you murmured, wiping the back of your mouth just to stumble a little trying to slip off your heels.
And even though he knew you didn't need his help, he was still holding out his arm for you to hold onto him and steady yourself while you took them off.
"Enjoy your dinner?" He murmured, and you cringed a little, looking up at him with the slightest hints of apology in your smile as you held up a to-go box in your other hand.
"Who told you?" You asked, even though he could see it in your stare that you already suspected the answer.
"Sukuna mentioned it," he admitted.
"I should've said something," you cleared your throat, the closest you could probably come to a sorry.
"It's fine," he lied, no matter how far he really was from it.
"Do you want the rest?" You offered, as if your leftovers were some olive branch.
One he'd gladly take it.
"Sure," he shrugged, grabbing it as you let go of his arm. "So, are you guys, like a thing, or-"
"It's not like you're not seeing other women," you defensively muttered instead of actually answering, scowling at him as he went slack-jawed.
"I'm not," Gojo huffed, unsure what the hell he had to do to get you to understand that.
Wear a fucking cock cage and give you the only key?
"Gojo," you said his last name, bottom lip pushed out all pretty, and he wished he could make you believe how badly he wanted to make it yours too. "Do you think I'm stupid?"
He actually thought you were incredibly smart.
Gojo would give up everything just to breathe in the scent of your soft skin every day and listen to your voice as you talked about your studies as he stroked your hair and nuzzled his nose against your neck.
But instead, all that came out was a stuttered, "N-no?"
"You're at frat parties every weekend," you pointed out, holding your nose up high as you exhaled, walking past him like you had come to your conclusion.
"B-but only as the president, I'm not-"
"You don't speak to the pretty girls that come up to feel your muscles and offer to play stepmom?" You sarcastically asked, and Gojo wished you could look a little less gorgeous when you were glaring at him.
"I mean, I only talk to them," he tried to explain, but he knew that was the wrong thing to say when you just scoffed and shook your head.
"Me and Suguru just talked then," you huffed, and Gojo hated how you said his name. Loathed that he probably got to hear it while he was still relegated to Gojo.
Especially when he had seen first hand what you meant by talking.
His mouth opened, but it never seemed to be able to form the right words to get you to see him.
"I'm going to bed," you stubbornly insisted, padding barefoot back to your room while he hopelessly stared at your shrinking figure.
What would it take to be the one you wanted to go to sleep with?
And how the hell could he make sure that Suguru never got the chance?
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p.s. everyone go check out this lovely art of baby daddy drama gojo
Stepping into Eren’s room always felt like a sensory overload: Metallica, KISS and whatever other posters of bands on his walls, some mixtape of his playing loud as hell and the smell of Marlboro smoke hanging thick in the dark room.
“Ugh–open the fucking window or something” you dramatically coughed, swatting the air with your hand and praying the smoke wouldn’t stick to your new pink jaded London set.
Eren yanked out his earphones and set his drum sticks aside, a devilish grin spreading across his face, his lip ring glinted when he smirked, the one on his eyebrow twitching just slightly.“Msorry pretty princess, didn’t know you were coming” he reached forward and grabbed your thighs, pulling you in closer.
You scuffed “Didn’t see you in class today…”
“Aww, missed me, pretty girl?” His eyes practically sparkled as he tugged at your thighs, forcing you to straddle him.
“Shut up, loser” you face palmed him, falling backward onto the bed. Eren ended up on his back, sprawled across the mattress, and you landed chest to chest on top of him. He grinned up at you, clearly enjoying the closeness, his thumbs rubbing lazy circles against your thighs like he wasn’t in any rush to move.
This was only the third time you and Eren had been alone together. You never even acknowledged him in public hell, you’d laughed about him with your friends before, in his face. The tattoos, the chipped black nail polish, the eyeliner, the rings, the spiked pants, he was everything you swore you’d never touch.
But he liked that. Liked how you pretended you didn’t see him in the halls, then ended up here, melting against him like this. Because when it was just you and him, all that “too good for him” attitude didn’t mean much.
“You so pretty, baby” Eren smiled, wrapping his cybersigil-style tattooed arms around you, thrusting his hips forward “fuck, just looking at you got me hard” he grinned, watching you hold back your whimpers. Eren gently wrapped his hands around your neck, pulling you down to kiss you. You moaned as his tongue slipped past your lips, twirling with yours as his hips kept thrusting upwards, his clothed hard on rubbing up against your clit.
“Mmfuck…” you couldn’t help but audibly moan when he started going faster, grabbing your ass, cold silver rings sending shivers up your spine “Haaa-Ren!” You cried out, rocking your hips back and forth.
“Feels good, baby?” He chuckles, watching the girl who used to make fun of him with her girlfriends aka his crush since forever , griding her pussy on his cock trying to reach her high “Hm, pretty girl gon get her new cute clothes dirty” the boy teased, a breathy moan escaping when you purposely rocked your hips harder
“Ughh–I told you to keep quiet” you covered his mouth with your freshly manicured hands. You could feel that annoying smirk agains the palm of your hand. You stared down at the boy as you rode him, moving your hips faster and faster, enjoying the needy look in Eren’s eyes as he tried to desperately slow you down but it was too late. You watched his eyes roll back, feeling the growing wet spot of his cum agains your clit “Ew..so embarrassing” you got off him and grabbed your little vintage Dior bag.
Eren sat up, still a little dazed, his grin lazy and crooked “Gonna see you at my concert tonight?” he asked, tilting his head, lip ring catching the light.
You paused at the door, adjusting your bag without looking at him.“Maybe,” you said, voice flat but eyes giving you away for half a second.
He watched you walk out, still smiling to himself, the room smelling like smoke and your perfume long after you were gone. Fuck, he was absolutely and ridiculously obsessed with you.
Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does.
Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.0k
A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.
“You’ve never what?”
“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.
---
Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you.
He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.
It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.
Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.
The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.
Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any.
“Um, welcome to-”
“Your hair’s funny.”
Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?
Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”
And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears.
After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day.
But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.
Oh.
Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder.
Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.
He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-
“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”
Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.
“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”
“Bye, crybaby.”
And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-
“Big bro, why are you so red?”
Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting.
Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.
“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”
“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter.
Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?”
No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question.
Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-
“Man, are you even listening?”
Shit.
Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.
Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!”
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”
God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane.
Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.
“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”
Perfect. Great. Wonderful.
The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?
“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”
Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”
“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is.
Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”
You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust.
Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-
Click!
“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”
You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”
His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”
“Dad, I’m running away.”
That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact.
It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad.
Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-
“You alright, Cho?”
Ah.
Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.”
“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart.
“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”
“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”
“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.
“Cho.”
“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful.
And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.
“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”
“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”
“I don’t know either of you two.”
It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod.
He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”
Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”
“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years.
And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”
Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”
Raising a brow, “What?”
“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”
“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years.
“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”
Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way.
“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’.
Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”
“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”
“Wanna bet, brat?”
“...”
Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet.
Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him.
Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night.
“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.
Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.
“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”
Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him.
“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.
You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”
He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”
Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.
“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-
“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit.
“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you.
You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”
“You know…”
“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy.
“Choso.”
Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted.
Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”
And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”
And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-
“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”
And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole.
“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-
“Use me.”
Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”
“Use me.”
There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch.
And, well, how could you say no to that?
Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth.
And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now.
So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.
You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”
And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard.
Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high.
“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”
The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”
“No.”
You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”
Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway.
“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”
“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss.
Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor.
And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this? He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls.
You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”
“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”
Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him.
“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”
You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him.
He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”
And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass.
“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”
“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good.
“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”
A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”
You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”
“Mhm?”
“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”
Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now.
“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.
“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours.
“Cum f’me, my girl.”
My girl.
And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.
Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base.
“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below.
“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips.
In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now.
“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”
And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years.
Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with.
It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken.
“Crybaby.”
“Cho.”
“Corny.”
“You started it.”
Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go.
“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”
“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”
---
Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More
Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX
-Jin.
Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still
Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX
-Jin.
Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else?
Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk
Kugisaki: *spare
And you just LET him?
Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER
…
AND DID IT ANYWAY
Kugisaki: L
Fushiguro: L
Gramps: L
Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????
Summary: A nursing student by day and a dancer by night, you live by one rule: never mix your worlds. But when Sukuna discovers your secret and brings his nerdy best friend Gojo to the club, a single song, a stolen look, and one kiss threaten to unravel everything.
Content: nerd!Gojo x reader, nursing student!reader, stripper!reader, frat boy!Sukuna, college AU, modern AU, slow burn, mutual pining, secret double life, opposites attract, forbidden attraction, quiet guy x confident girl, nerd falls first, tension-heavy, flirting, teasing, jealousy, longing, eye contact, power dynamics, soft but intense, Gojo is down bad afff, Sukuna is messy, Gojo POV spiral, slow burn pain, one kiss changes everything, messy sex, rough sex, jealousy sex, angry sex
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5
a/n : hi guys so the fic i was supposed to post the other day isn’t coming along as good as i thought it would :( buttt dw it’ll still be coming out soon. this is something quick i wrote at chilis during family dinner LMAO lmk if u guys want part 2 i have some rlly juicy ideas :p
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺
Money was the motive.
It had to be.
You told yourself that every morning when the alarm went off too early and your body still felt heavy from the night before. You told yourself when you pulled on scrubs, tied your hair back, and stared at your reflection like you were checking in with someone else.
This wasn’t permanent.
Just necessary.
During the day, you were a nursing student.
Focused. Organized. Responsible.
You sat in the front row. You asked questions. You wrote notes so neat they could’ve been printed straight into a textbook. You learned about infections and cells and systems that kept people alive. You wanted that future — the steady one.
At night, you belonged to the dark.
Different clothes. Different posture. Different rules.
The club didn’t care how smart you were. It cared how you moved. How you looked over your shoulder. How long you held eye contact before breaking it. You learned how to make moments stretch.
You never mixed the two lives.
That was the rule.
You met Sukuna in microbiology.
He wasn’t subtle.
Pink hair that definitely broke dress code. A grin that always came a second before trouble. He leaned back in his chair like he was daring someone to tell him to sit up straight.
The first time he talked to you, it was for a pen.
The second time, it was to complain about the professor.
The third time, he just… stayed.
“You always look like you’ve got somewhere better to be,” he said one afternoon, leaning too close during lab.
“I do,” you replied without looking at him.
He laughed. “Ouch.”
Somehow, it turned into friendship.
You studied together. Sat together. Shared snacks during long labs. He flirted casually — like it was a habit — and you ignored it just as casually.
You knew he was in a frat.
He knew you were in nursing.
That was where it stopped.
The club didn’t warn you that night.
The bass hummed low, rolling through the floor and up your legs as you stepped out under the lights. You slipped into the rhythm easily, your body remembering what to do even when your mind tried to drift.
Then you saw him.
Sukuna.
Close to the stage.
Your heart dropped so hard it felt physical.
For a second, neither of you moved.
Then recognition flickered across his face — followed by something slower. Something interested.
His grin spread.
You finished the song on instinct, your movements smooth, practiced. When it ended, you stepped down and walked toward him, heels sharp against the floor.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” you said quietly.
He leaned back, eyes scanning you without shame — not greedy, not rude. Almost impressed.
“Relax,” he said. “I won’t tell.”
You studied him carefully. “Promise.”
He raised his hands. “Promise.”
Then, softer. “Didn’t know you were hiding this.”
“Now you do,” you replied. “Now you forget.”
He laughed. “That might be hard.”
You turned to leave.
“Oh,” he added, casual, “my friend Gojo has a crush on you.”
You froze.
“…Gojo?”
“Yeah,” Sukuna said. “Satoru. Glasses. Quiet. Nerdy. Talks about you like you’re untouchable.”
Your stomach flipped in a way you didn’t expect.
“He doesn’t know about this,” you said immediately.
“He won’t,” Sukuna replied. “I won’t say a word.”
Then, after a pause, “I’ll bring him tomorrow. Just him.”
You hesitated.
“…Fine.”
The Next Night
Gojo did not want to be there.
He told himself that three times before even walking inside.
The club was loud. Too loud. The bass made his chest feel tight. He adjusted his glasses like that might help.
Sukuna looked completely at ease.
“You okay?” Sukuna asked, smirking.
“I don’t belong here,” Gojo muttered.
“You belong wherever you want,” Sukuna replied. “Relax.”
Then the lights shifted.
And you stepped onto the stage.
Gojo forgot how to breathe.
You didn’t look like the girl from microbiology. The one who sat straight, focused, serious. This version of you moved like you owned the room.
His eyes locked onto you immediately — like something deep in his chest had snapped tight.
You moved slow.
Not rushed. Not desperate.
Your hips followed the beat lazily, confidently. Your hands traced your sides like you weren’t performing — like you were inviting.
Gojo swallowed.
His ears burned red.
Sukuna noticed instantly. “Told you,” he murmured.
Gojo didn’t answer.
He couldn’t look away.
You stepped closer to the edge of the stage, turning just enough for the light to catch you. Your fingers slid along your waist, then hooked lightly into the waistband of your panties — not pulling, just resting there.
Teasing.
Gojo’s breath hitched.
His hands clenched in his lap like he needed something solid to hold onto.
You looked directly at him then.
Not the crowd.
Not Sukuna.
Just him.
And when your eyes met his, something changed.
Your lips curved — just slightly.
Gojo knew, objectively, that staring was rude.
He just couldn’t stop.
You moved like you didn’t feel the weight of his eyes at all—like they didn’t pin you in place, didn’t make his chest feel too tight. You let the beat guide you, slow and unhurried, like time stretched when you were onstage.
Sukuna noticed immediately.
He leaned back, folding his arms, grin sharp. “You look like you’re about to short-circuit.”
Gojo didn’t answer.
He barely heard him.
The lights shifted warmer, lower, washing over your skin. You rolled your shoulders back, letting the music pull through you, hips swaying in time. Your hands skimmed your thighs, slow enough to make the moment drag.
Gojo swallowed.
His heart was beating too fast. He told himself to look away. Just for a second.
He didn’t.
You stepped closer to the edge of the stage again, gaze drifting over the room before landing right back on him. You held it this time. Didn’t rush past it.
Your eyes didn’t ask permission.
They challenged.
Gojo’s fingers curled tighter into his palms.
Sukuna leaned forward, voice low and amused. “You’re blushing.”
“I’m not,” Gojo muttered, which was a lie.
You turned slowly, letting the movement speak for you. The music dipped, the beat lazy and smooth, and you let your hips follow it, unbothered, controlled. Your fingers slid along your waist again, hooking lightly into the waistband of your panties.
Not pulling.
Just enough.
Gojo’s breath hitched so sharply it surprised even him.
Sukuna let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah,” he said. “She knows exactly what she’s doing.”
You lowered yourself to your knees, movements unhurried, almost indulgent. The lights caught your face, your expression calm, unreadable—except for the way your eyes stayed on Gojo.
Always on Gojo.
He felt exposed. Seen in a way he wasn’t used to. Like you could tell exactly what this was doing to him and were choosing not to stop.
You crawled closer to the edge of the stage.
Closer.
Close enough now that Gojo could see the way your lashes cast shadows under your eyes. The way your lips parted slightly when you breathed.
Gojo nodded, even though his mind was spinning. “She—” He stopped himself.
Sukuna hummed. “Yeah.”
The song changed.
The opening notes of To the Morning by The Weeknd slid through the speakers, slow and heavy, the kind of song that made everything feel intimate whether you wanted it to or not.
Your body followed it instantly.
You rose smoothly, letting the beat guide your movements, hips rolling in time with the melody. The song wrapped around the room, around the moment, like it had been waiting for you.
You leaned forward, bracing your hands on the stage, back arching just enough to make Gojo’s breath catch again.
He looked wrecked.
You straightened and stepped right to the edge, close enough now that the distance felt intentional. Your gaze softened—not less intense, just warmer.
Sukuna leaned back, satisfied. “I told you she was trouble.”
Gojo barely heard him.
You leaned down.
Not all the way.
Close enough that Gojo could feel your presence without touching. Close enough that the world narrowed to just the two of you and the low, aching pull of the music.
Your eyes flicked briefly to his lips.
Then back to his eyes.
Gojo froze.
And then you kissed his cheek.
Soft. Slow. Deliberate.
Just once.
The music kept playing.
When you pulled back, Gojo sat completely still, like moving might break whatever had just happened. His face was flushed, eyes wide behind his glasses, breath uneven.
NERD!GOJO that spanks your ass till it all pretty and pink, just the way he likes it. If only you didn't get a 70% on your exam
Letting your sweet virgin roommate NERD!GOJO nut sooo deep inside your pussy, your too cock drunk to even realize he's fucking it back into you
NERD!GOJO and his pretty roommate cant stop moaning as she hops on his dick
NERD!GOJO who had a rough day in class so to cheer him up he buries himself beneath you soft cheeks
how could NERD!GOJO not fuck you over his gaming chair , you kept begging for his attention even when he told you he was in the middle of a match, but how could he ignore his needy baby?
NERD!GOJO who fingers you until you shaking and whimpering, he just loves hearing your sweet little moans
long dick NERD!GOJO making you take every inch of him
torturing NERD!GOJO’S pretty cock after you catch him masturbating to you (could correlate with this fic)
NERD!GOJO lets you grind your cunt on his thigh when he's too lazy to fuck you
you've been such a good girl, getting all the practice answers right that NERD!GOJO he can't help but eat your sloppy cunt until you cry out for him
this is the aftermath of NERD!GOJO finally getting inside your warm cunt
Synopsis: As a high in-demand lawyer with multiple cases to juggle, Higuruma is likely to suffer from burn out and stress at some point in his career. Lucky for him, he has found a better reprieve than visiting his local bar or fucking his fist to the thought of his pretty little assistant late at night. He has started visiting a strip club instead, but only to see one person in particular: you aka his personal stress reliever.
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI); Boss x Assistant Relationship; Sexual Tension; Secret Relationship; Lap Dancing; Mild Power Play; Public S*x/Exhibitionism; Deepthroating; Facefücking; Mutual Oral (Giving & Receiving); Mentions of Analingus; Higurama Is A Munch; Panties To The Side; Cünnilingus From The Back; Spit Play; Slutification; Mild Objectification; Against The Wall; Crëampie; PLOT TWIST (Boss!Higuruma x Assistant!Reader)
Word Count: 8.5k
Writer's Note: Sorry, y'all lol this is a repost cuz I got flagged. I've been wanting to write more about Higuruma aka my big nosed stud for a minute now. I hope to write more of him in 2026 now that he's about to be animated...prepared to be sick of me. Enjoy!! -Jazz
Read on AO3 HERE!
When it comes to hectic Mondays, some good, working people find ways of relieving their stress in healthy ways–some may do yoga or puzzles while others go to their local bars and get drunk.
Higuruma Hiromi is not any of these “good, working people”. And whether his way of relieving his stress after a hard working day in his busy law firm is healthy can be up for debate.
But when you’re a busy and in-demand lawyer living in Tokyo, Japan, one of the most highly populated cities in the world, and with injustice lurking at every corner, you’ll take relief where you can get it.
When Higuruma pulls up to the particular building nice and slow, taking his sweet time finding a parking spot. The place is packed as usual despite it being a Monday. With a business like this and gooning being such a high trend (as it has been for centuries), sex and horniness don’t sleep. Higuruma understands.
Despite the fact that he usually is able to keep his nasty fantasies and inhibitions at bay in order to work accordingly throughout the week, he always allows himself one day a week to toss all of that shit out the window and completely embrace his wanton desires….
Or it used to be one day a week. Now, since he has found his new particular stress reliever, his visits to the strip club have become more frequent. There are times he has visited three times in one week just to see one person.
He soon parks his sleek black Benz and he fixes his tie in the rearview mirror. “You fuckin’ mess,” he sighs. The tired look in his eyes is a permanent staple to his appearance unfortunately. No amount of coffee or trips to the spa has worked for him. As a defense attorney, he is used to the hectic and demanding world of juggling cases, going in and out of courtrooms, and dealing with clients’ emotional issues and turmoils that navigating the justice system has brought them.
It is hard, difficult work, but Higuruma wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Plus it isn’t all bad: not when he gets free coffee from the coffee bar in his building lobby, he can pay his rent, and he gets help from his new personal assistant. She is the biggest help of all. Just thinking about her makes him smile and his suit pants tight.
When he walks into the club, people recognize him immediately as they did the first time he visited. Plus Higuruma has a very recognizable face as he’s been told. He has very strong features: a strong jaw, thick neck, and a big, angular nose that he has been complimented on many, many times when he’s swiping it across a woman’s clit.
The particular woman who greets him with a complimentary shot, the hostess in her tight dress and fishnet stockings, looks like she’d like to feel that nose for herself when he steps to her. “Welcome to the Pleasure Palace, sir,” she purrs, passing him the shot glass. “Free shot? It’s cherry and lemonade.”
This particular strip club, dubbed “The Pleasure Palace”, is popular among celebrities, the elite, and public figures. Athletes, rappers, business moguls, political figures–you name ‘em, this place has got ‘em. Every man has his vice.
And like the men here feening over a pair of pretty breasts, thighs, and a fat ass, Higuruma has his vices too as he stands among the flashing purple lights under the scent of perfume and marijuana in the air.
“Thanks,” he says, downing the shot in one hit. The sweet cherry mixed with the lemonade is absolutely addicting. Just like someone else he knows. After paying his way in, he goes over to the sleek bar stacked high with all kinds of alcohol in every price range, from cheap to expensive. He finds a stool at the far end on the right and takes a seat.
On the main stage a few feet away from him are two dancers in a bra and thong set, swirling and twirling around their sets of poles like their lives depend on it. The audience below–mostly men–toss dollar bills on stage and yell in excitement as one hits the splits, doing that move where she twerks in the middle of her split. Higuruma will admit that it’s impressive, but he isn’t here for any of that.
“Well, look who decided to take a break from his big boy job to pay me a visit.” As soon as he hears your voice, so pretty and magnetic, Higuruma sits up a little straighter and his heart skips a beat. He turns around to face you, the main attraction, and as usual, your appearance leaves him stunned into a moment of silence.
You stand there before him and despite your shorter height (one of the things that Higuruma finds so attractive about you), you appear so much taller due to your stance–hands on your hips, one leg popped out–and your oozing confidence.
Your outfit makes you stand out even more, the sapphire, sequin string bra and G-string thong set sparkles under the lights every time you even shift. You paired it with mesh gloves, garter stockings, and a mini skirt that barely covers your delectably juicy thighs.
Your hair cascades down in curls over your shoulders, falling gracefully over your breasts that Higuruma briefly envisions kissing and sucking on. Your makeup is soft yet glamorous, your kissable lips coated in pink gloss, and your skin is dusted in shimmery oil that makes you look like you bathed in glitter.
You are seductive perfection and Higuruma is seduced. As soon as the scent of your vanilla body spray hits his nose, his cock is as hard as a rock. Thank God he’s sitting down and the club is dark enough to hide is raging hard-on. You give him a smile like you know you’ve gotten to him, standing so confidently in your heels like you’re Beyoncé herself. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Mr. Higuruma.”
Your voice is like a drug to his ears. He is always so desperate to get it more and more. “Hiromi,” he corrects you. “You know how I feel about formalities, Belle.” He watches as a sparkle appears in your eyes when he uses your stripper name on you.
‘Belle’ is the name for you, Higuruma believes, and your boss should get his props for that. Belles are beautiful and classy but they can also be seductive. You are all three of those things. “M’sorry, Hiromi. It slipped my mind.” You say it with a slight giggle, making butterflies flutter about in Higuruma's stomach.
The truth is he likes you. He likes this relationship that has budded between you and him over the past couple of months since he’s started coming to the club. He isn’t sure if it’s romantic or just a friendship fueled on flirting, lapdances, and attraction, but he’s enjoying it. And he knows that you are too.
“Must be a long night,” he chuckles as the bartender silently passes him a whiskey on the rocks. He has been here long enough and ordering the same thing where the servers know what he likes. You scoff, rolling your pretty eyes framed in dark eyeliner and thick mascara. “Oh, like you wouldn’t believe! Mondays are one of our busiest nights, believe it or not.”
“Oh, I do,” he replies as he sips his drink.
‘Especially with you working here,’ he thinks, but doesn’t let it pass his lips.
It is no secret though that you are among the most popular dancers working here. With your pretty face, confidence, and sexy moves, it is a no brainer that you get the men in here. But Higuruma knows that he is the only one you’ll give the time of day.
“So what brings you here tonight? Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?” Your lips quirk into a sly, joking smile that somehow makes Higuruma feel so feral for you. What is it about you that makes him lose his mind so quickly over you?
He has had his fair share of short term relationships and hot one night stands after romps at bars, nightclubs, and law firm events that would usually end in a feeling of numbness and a drag of a cigarette. But with you, it’s different. After one night with you, he craves more. “Soon. I couldn’t sleep, so I came here to…tire myself out.”
You don’t miss the suggestion in the last three words or the rather seductive tone that drips from his deep voice. Your eyes soften with want and he sees your breathing change. It’s like the flip of a switch the way the air changes from flirty and free to tense and charged.
“Will you be available to me in the next five minutes?” he huskily asks. He can’t do the flirty games you always play with each other anymore. He wants you too badly. After a day of constant calls, meetings, and a broken coffee machine, he needs to have you alone.
You mouth your open to reply, looking eager to do so, but then you pause and your shoulders slump. Higuruma instinctively withers. “Ten,” you regretfully sigh. “I’m needed on the floor before I can see you.”
Suddenly, you slowly walk up to him with a click of those heels and press a hand near his on the bar. You are nearly standing between his legs, the scent of coconut wafting from your curls. “But I can make it eight,” you whisper. “Same room?”
He nods, unable to speak. He fears that if he does it will be something outrageously sexual and wild that it would make even the bartenders blush. Before he can try to move his hand over to touch yours, you are called over by your coworker holding a tray of bottles. “Belle, help me with these drinks!” she shouts.
You nod and turn to give Higuruma an apologetic stare. “Duty calls,” you sigh. “Can you forgive me?” You give him a look with those big, gorgeous eyes and thick doll-like lashes that he imagines fluttering closed in pleasure as he fills you repeatedly with his cock.
Finally, Higuruma closes the gap between your hands, his thicker fingers gliding over your tinier ones. “Sure,” he murmurs. “But don’t keep me waiting.” The smile that stretches across your glossy, pink lips is straight sex to him. You lean in towards his ear, pressing your hand to his shoulder. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Daddy,” you purr and he swears that all of the blood in his body rushes to the head of his cock.
When you walk away, he watches your ass bounce and jiggle in that thong digging into your asscheeks. He briefly imagines his tongue there and has to drain the rest of his whiskey to calm himself down. ‘Calm yourself,’ he thinks. ‘You’ll be getting all of that later.’
The room that Higuruma usually occupies is in the VIP lounge–where the big ballers play and the prettiest women only dance for major figures. Higuruma is prepared. He always is when it comes to you and your moves. He often fantasizes about you winding around a pole and dancing just for him, gripping your hips as you give him a low, tantalizing lap dance.
The VIP rooms are comfortable and stylish with a personal mini-bar, shower, and furniture for lounging…and other things. Higuruma has no doubt that the dancers here do more than just dancing for their clients despite the rules specifically forbidding that.
But you and Higuruma broke that rule a loooong time ago, and if your boss knows, he hasn’t said anything. Not with the kind of money Higuruma brings in.
His AMEX card and crisp dollar bills burn holes in his pockets as he lounges on the comfortable black couch in his room, another drink in his hand and the muffled music from the club vibrating around him through the walls.
The more he waits, the more his arousal grows, leading him to rubbing himself through his pants. And then, finally, you appear, albeit haggardly with an irritated huff. As soon as you see him though, your face brightens like you just saw a designer bag on sale in a shop window.
“It’s about time,” he says, his voice deep and smooth. “I thought you’d forgotten me.” He doesn’t miss the way your eyes glide across his muscular thighs split open as he sits open-legged on the couch, comfortable and relaxed. “I’m sorry, Da–uh, Hiromi,” you sigh, quickly switching gears on the titles. He would’ve opted for the first one. “Boss wanted me to serve these hotshot business guys ASAP before I came back here and they talked my ear off.”
You close the door with a click and lock it just the way you both like. “Who are these business guys?” Higuruma asks, feeling a tug in his chest at the idea of you being surrounded by some flirty horndogs. Sure, it’s your job, but he has been around his fair share of sleaze bags who would take every chance at scooping you up.
You quirk an eyebrow at him as you walk over to him, sashaying in a way that draws attention to your hips and legs. “Why? You gonna fight for my honor or somethin’?” You place your hands on your hips, your glossy, red nails turning him on increasingly. He envisions those nails wrapped around his cock for a change.
“Or somethin’,” he parrots. You giggle, the sound like music to his ears. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” you softly coo. Slowly, you drop down to your knees and press your hands against his knees, sliding them up to his thighs. “What can I do to make it up to you, Daddy?”
You peer up at him through your lashes, making his dick twitch in his briefs. He sips on his drink, his tongue jutting out to lick the remains of the whiskey from his upper lip. He slides a finger under your chin, tilting your head up farther to look at him. “I can think of a few things,” he murmurs.
Your lips curl into a knowing smirk, already sensing what he wants judging by your hand sneaking over to his hard dick pulsing beneath his pants.
Several minutes later, you’ve got your mouth wrapped around his hard cock and you’re moving your head up and down while Higuruma's big hand is wrapped tightly in your hair. He keeps a tight grip on it as he lays back against the couch, his head tilted back as he feels your wet mouth and tongue lick, suck, and slurp on his cock the only way you know how.
“Fuck,” he groans, his voice so deep that it comes out as a grumble. The music muffles the sloppy sounds of you eagerly sucking on him, leading him to begin pushing his cock deeper down your throat. You let out a squeak of surprise as he begins fucking your mouth from below, thrusting his hips up as the belt buckle to his pants knocks against his thigh.
He didn’t even bother taking his clothes off–just his jacket that he laid across the couch next to him where his phone lies. He only told you to undo his pants and free his hard cock, chuckling when you gaped at how hard, thick, and veiny it was despite having already seen it plenty of times before.
Higuruma can’t blame you though. He’s in the same exact boat you are. No matter how many times you give him head, he still reacts like it’s the first time: desperately and full of wanton need. He grunts as he pulls your head up, forcing you to take a breath. You gasp, your lips coated in spit. “Oooh! You’re a little rougher today, Daddy.”
You give him a sexy grin that makes his cock pulse in your hand wrapped around the base. “Sorry, pretty,” he pants. “Daddy’s just got a lot on his mind right now.”
But doesn’t he always? You look up at him with those pretty eyes, big and innocent-like. “Anything I can help with?”
He smiles down at you, adoringly, and wiping a droplet of spit away from the corner of your mouth, your lip gloss wiped away clean. “Oh, you’re doing more than enough right now.”
He then pushes your head back down to take him deeper, forcing you to gag along his cock, flexing your throat in a way that makes him moan. “I’ve been thinkin’ about you all day,” he growls. “You and your pretty face…your fucking body…”
His free hand moves across your back to trail down to your ass, gripping it as you deepthroat his cock. You then pull up again for air, freely this time, and take a deep inhale.
“Oh?” you giggle. “You weren’t thinkin’ ‘bout your cute little assistant for a change? What did she have on today?” Then you go back to gagging on his cock like it’s no one’s business, going up and down, up and down, giving him the suck of a lifetime.
Something in Higuruma awakens at the mention of his cute little assistant. Her and her bubbly personality, melodic voice, and willingness to help him with anything. How she always has his coffee prepared when he comes into the office and never fails to make him smile (in secrecy).
“Pink blouse tucked into a tight little pencil skirt,” he groans. “Stockings–oh, fuck–and kitten heels. Fuckin’ tease as usual.”
He can’t get enough of her little work outfits, so professional and prim yet so sexy. “Just like you,” he coos, looking down at you throat his dick like a little slut. “You both know how to fuckin’ tease me.” He pushes your head down more, needing your lips pasted firmly on his balls because you’re taking him so deep.
“Deeper, baby,” he orders. “Take me deeper. C’mon, you can do it.” You gag and he can see your lashes glisten with tears, but you taken him nonetheless, your throat brushing against his head.
“Thaaat’s it!” he praises. “That’s my good girl.” He tilts your head up to see his cock plunge in and out of your mouth. “My pretty fuckin’ girl. You’re all I think about, you know that?”
You continue to stare up at him with his dick in your mouth, the same way he imagines that you do under his desk at work. How he needed this. How he craves for nights like this, closed in together in this little sanctuary in a strip club.
“Need to breathe?” he asks. You frantically nod, your eyes watery and slightly red. He releases you to let you gulp down some deep breaths of air, your mouth dripping in pre-cum and spit. “Go on, baby, breathe. Sorry; I got a little carried away with–mmmph!” His apology is cut off when you lean up to passionately kiss him, sharing his taste with him.
That’s another thing he can’t get enough of: your kisses. Your juicy lips on his, giving him kisses that fuel him for days until the high fades and he needs more. When you pull away, your eyes are dazed and lust-blown. “Don’t apologize,” you pant out. “You love when you’re rough with me, ‘Romi. You’ve got me so wet for you.”
His eyes tick down to your G-string sinking between your asscheeks, already knowing that it’s soaked with your juices for him. “Oh, so I do,” he pleasantly hums. “Stand up for me for a minute, baby.”
Melting from his pet name for you, you stand and then squeak in surprise when he bends you over the couch, tooting your pretty ass up for him. You moan when you feel his fingers peeling your skirt up and moving your soaked thong aside, hissing out “shit” as he does when he catches sight of your glistening, puffy cunt.
“O-Oh, you don’t have to–” He cuts you off when he peels your thong back and lets it slap against your pussy, making you gasp. “Hush,” he barks, but not unkindly. “This is my money and I’ll use it how I want…and right now, I wanna use it on this pretty pussy.”
Your shy giggle isn’t lost on him, especially when he runs his hand over your ass. “Open,” he demands and you split your thighs for him wider, coming comfortable in your position. “We don’t have long,” you warn him. “My boss told me fifteen minutes, remember.”
He nods, running his lips over your asscheek as he massages the other, his actions making your pussy wetter. “Then you’ll have to cum for me in five,” he purrs. “And then I’ll fuck you in ten.”
You look back at him then, eyes twinkling and his cock aching to sink inside you. “Let’s see whatcha got then, Daddy,” you giggle.
He gives you a look, giving your ass a sharp smack that makes you jump. “Now, baby,” he tuts, “do I ever disappoint you?”
And he doesn’t. Higuruma has a habit of striving to be perfect with everything, including eating you out. He does a very good job at that, he decides, when he hears your moans more than the music as his tongue caresses your cunt. “Oh, Hiromi!” you gasp. “Fuck, you’re so good! Mmm, you and that nose!”
Higuruma resists the urge to fuck you right there, instead fucking you with his tongue and letting your taste run over his it as his nose swipes against your ass. You have ridden it many times before on this exact couch, swiping your clit against it until you came all over his face. He has to fist his cock at the sound and image of you before him, your perfect ass pushed into his face.
“Mmm-hmm,” he hums into your pussy. He knows you love it when he does that, the vibrations bringing you closer to climax. He can sense that you are now from the way you toy with your tits, massaging them as he sloppily eats your pussy like it is his last time doing so, enjoying your high-pitched, needy moans. “I-I’m gonna cum, Daddy!” you whine. “Please make me cum! Make me–”
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!
Abruptly, Higuruma stops and you push him away, looking towards the door in fear. “Belle!” your coworker shouts. “We need you on stage! One of the dancers got sick from the lemon pepper wings and went to the back!”
Higuruma hopes that dancer pukes her guts out for the rest of her days for cutting his pussy-eating session short. “Uh…give me five minutes!” you call back. “I’m with a customer.”
The coworker pauses and then begins to snicker. “Oooh, okay,” she knowingly giggles. “But don’t be too long. You know Boss likes us to be available.”
“Clearly,” Higuruma whispers as your coworker blessedly walks away from the door. “Guess we’ll have to cut this short.” He can feel his disappointment blooming at the idea of not making you cum or being able to feel you wrapped around him, making you cum with his cock.
But you have other ideas. “Nonsense,” you scoff, turning to face him over your shoulder. “You can fuck me in five minutes, can’t you, Daddy?” You give him a teasing grin, reaching back to toy with your glistening, wet pussy with your glossy, red fingernails, hypnotizing him.
Oh, yes, he can. Higuruma absolutely loves a challenge. Why do you think he’s a defensive attorney?
And so minutes later, he accepts your challenge and has you pinned up against the wall with your heels dangling off of him, your thong pulled to the side and your naked tits freely bouncing with every hard, rough thrust he gives you. Your lips are locked together, whiskey pouring into your mouth from his, spitting his drink down your throat as he plunges his cock in and out of your gorgeous, soaked pussy over and over again.
Your fingernails dig into his chest, his thick, muscled upper torso and happy trail exposed by his open buttoned shirt. His pants are at his ankles, his briefs pulled down only to free his cock for you. He wanted to strip as minimally as possible if he’s going to be done in five minutes.
But from the way you’re squeezing tight around him and those pretty sounds that you’re making are filling his ears, that may only be two. You are too irresistible. Too sexy. His balls can’t help but become tight and heavy with cum for you. He can already feel his stress leaving his body in waves with every stroke of your pussy and sound of your moan.
“Oh, Hiromi, yes!” you gasp, bouncing up and down on his cock. “Faster, Daddy, please! Give it to me faster!” Your eyes are squeezed tight in ecstasy, your sparkly, well-manicured toes curling in your heels dangling from Higuruma's narrow hips.
“Yeah?” he coos. “You want it faster?” He smiles when you frantically nod, looking so fucked out of your mind. “You’d better fuckin’ cum soon then. We’ve only got five minutes, remember, baby?”
“I don’t care,” you whimper. “I just want you.” Higuruma nearly busts a fat nut at that. “But you have me, darlin’,” he whispers, sucking on your bottom lip. “You’ve had me for months.”
He leans in to suck on your earlobe while he presses himself against your body, your tinier frame fitting so nicely against his bigger one. He grips your ass tight as he continues to fuck you out of your mind against the wall, pistoning his hips against yours with every intention of making that pussy cream and filling you with his cum.
“I still can’t believe I got you,” he grunts. “Can’t believe I’m fuckin’ my own assistant.” You moan in response, locking your legs around him and hanging off of him like a koala bear.
You begin to fuck yourself against him in an effort to bring you both closer to the edge, drawing a few high-pitched, slutty moans out of him. “Bet you were hopin’ for this, weren’t you?” he huffs in your ear. “Bet you wanted me to come in here and fuck my pretty little assistant stupid. Or bend you over my desk at work.”
He digs his nose into your neck, breathing in your sweet scent as your fingers explore his body, running over his back muscles under his shirt; over his stomach; through his short-cropped, black hair. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy, y’know that?” he pants against your skin. “I think about you all day. All fuckin’ night.”
You whimper in reply, your pussy quivering around him, your walls squeezing him in in an effort to keep him locked inside of you. “Romi,” you moan, pressing heated kisses against his cheek and over his strong jaw. “I’m gonna cum. I need you to–”
“Cum with you?” he finishes, grinning against your neck. “Like always. Such a needy thing.” He pulls away to look at you, admiring the way pleasure looks on your pretty face. “But you’re my needy thing,” he growls. “Ain’t you? Look at me and tell me, baby girl.”
Your pretty eyes peel open to stare into his, lust swimming in them. “M’yours, Daddy,” you exhale. “I’m yours, always!” Higuruma smiles, pressing a harsh, sloppy kiss against your lips, swallowing your moans. “Now cum,” he demands. “Cum on that fuckin’ dick, Belle. This is yours.”
That’s what tips you over the edge. He has to slap a hand over your mouth as your moans grow louder than the music, though he’s sure that many know that you’re getting fucked back here. As he draws the prettiest, loudest sounds out of you, he feels your pussy quiver as she creams all around his cock, drenching him in sticky cream that drips down his balls.
With a few more rough thrusts, Higuruma digs his fingers into your ass and presses his face into your tits as he feels his orgasm take over. “Shhhhit!” he hisses, his voice coming out ragged and thick with lust. Moans and grunts leave his lips as he spills himself inside of you, his cum spurting out of his cock and filling you up. Just as it should be.
And like a good girl, you take it all, smiling as you do. Delirious giggles leave your lips, probing Higuruma to begin laughing too. As your highs die down and you come down from the clouds, you both share a soft kiss, the tension finally broken. “That was amazing, baby,” you coo against his lips. “You’re always so good to me.”
He chuckles, your sweet words filling him with pride. “Well, I guess we’re both good at what we do,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your nose.
You giggle, doing the same thing to him, leaving lip gloss on his nose, the both of you acting like two love-drunk teens. “We should probably clean up,” he sighs. “Wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”
So he slowly puts you on the ground and helps you find your outfit before getting dressed alongside you, almost as if what happened didn’t just occur. But it’s like this every time. You watch from the couch as he adjusts his pants, having finished dressing before him, and sip on something strong as you do.
“You were really amazing, Hiromi,” you purr, smiling fondly at him as he zips his fly. “I’m always so happy when you visit the club.”
“Oh, I bet,” Higuruma chuckles, earning a pretty giggle out of your mouth. “The feeling’s mutual. And yes, you were amazing too.” You smile, suddenly bashful, all of the confidence you had as Belle leaving the building. How is it that a woman can have so many sides to her?
“So same time on Friday?” he asks, snatching his jacket from the couch. He has tucked his shirt into his pants, attempting to look as normal as possible (like he hasn’t been back here fucking).
“I’ll try to come by during the week, but I have a deposition comin’ up and a brief to start on.” You nod, suddenly looking apprehensive. He wants to ask why, but he knows better than to, and instead gives you a chaste kiss on the lips before heading to the door.
“Um…Mr. Higuruma?” you softly ask, sounding so unsure when you do. Higuruma pauses at the sound of the formal title on your lips and turns around to face you.
“Y/N, I told you that it’s Hiromi to you.”
He fixes you with a mock-stern stare that makes you smile. “I know,” you awkwardly giggle, toying with your mesh shirt. “I just…” You pause, biting your bottom lip in a way that makes him realize that you’re fighting with yourself. “What?” he asks.
Silence swells around you, uncomfortable with words left unsaid and questions left unanswered. Finally, you uncap that bottle and you finally look at him with those stunning eyes. “This is still just between us, right? No one will know about my side hustle?”
Higuruma nearly laughs. If he were to tell anyone or let anyone find out that his personal assistant is also a stripper on the side, he would also risk people finding out about his whereabouts after work and that he has a“personal” relationship with you.
Of course, he was shocked the first night he came here and saw you, his assistant, serving drinks and swinging around a pole.
But that shock turned to lust the minute he got you alone and you gave him a lapdance that left him hard for hours and made him stroke his cock to the thought of you in his shower. That night, you both silently agreed to act on the attraction that you’ve been feeling for each other for months now since you were hired.
“You don’t have to ask me that again, Y/N,” he firmly says. “I told you before that your secret is safe with me, especially since I’m the one fucking you.” His blunt words make you even shyer, your thighs pressed tight against each other.
He smirks, coming up to you to kneel in front of you. “You have nothing to worry about, pretty. You’re safe in my hands.” You nod, pressing your hands against his shoulders as he places his big hands on your waist. “And I can count on you not to blab to the office about my whereabouts afterhours, right?”
You shake your head, your eyes sparkling, your mascara slightly askew from his pounding session with you. “No, sir,” you giggle. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
He gives you a crooked smile, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. “Good. Now you’d better head back to work. Wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”
You share a kiss again, the both of you not wanting to leave each other, but knowing that it is only a matter of time until you’re able to be alone again. Finally, Higuruma tears himself away from you and heads to the door again. “See you at the office tomorrow?” you suggest.
He looks back at you, giving you a humored smirk. “You’ll see me,” he chuckles. “Until tomorrow, Ms. L/N.”
Pairing: ExNerd!Miguel O’Hara X fem!civillainreader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), , Oral, Cowgirl, Missionary. You and Miguel make a mess...
Summary: Miguel has changed a lot since high school, but one thing remains the same...how he feels about you.
A/N: I have been trying to write about Miguel for weeks now! Every time I get close to finishing something for him I reread it and hate it! So I am posting this before I can change my mind! I hope you all enjoy I tried my best!
Word Count: 6,823
“Pfft…I can't believe this is real; this can’t be real!” Gwen keeps repeating herself, trying to stifle back her laughter.
“I know! I couldn’t believe my eyes when Peter showed me but here it is!” Miles agrees; Pav quickly joins in by slinging his arm around Miles for a better look.
“Take a look at the specks on him. Did you know he needed glasses?”
“Flip to the club photo. Now, that will shock you”
At Hobies request the teens quickly start flipping through pages. The sound of rustling paper and then the sudden bursting of laughter from the small huddle was something Miguel could no longer ignore.
Miguel wasn’t sure why the teens and Peter were in his office. But since the events with the spot and some well-deserved apologies, Miguel, in the teen's words, “Chilled out,” and now they seem to hang out around him more. Meaning they are often in his office… Miguel, of course, tried to appear as indifferent as possible to this change of pace. He had to admit it was somewhat nice to have the cheerful ambiance that came with them... Hell, sometimes they could make him chuckle; Miles was actually pretty funny. But, of course, he keeps these things to himself.
Miguel makes his way to the huddle to see what could possibly be so enthralling. When he sees what's causing their uproar, his blood runs cold, freezing him dead in his tracks.
Is….that his….yearbook…
It was turned to a picture and plan as the day under his unrecognizable photo was his name. So there was no getting out of this saying it wasn’t him…
“Miguel, is this really you?” Miles questions pointing to the picture.
“Must be his name right there,” Pav teases, making Miguel groan. This was an actual nightmare.
Looking over them, Miguel sees the picture they are all questioning; the difference is pretty night and day. A young 17-year-old Miguel who was way scrawnier compared to his now bulking physique. His dark brown eyes were hidden behind his thick black-rimmed glasses, the only ones his mother could afford at the time. Miguel's thick wavy brown hair looks untamed as it hangs down his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes if not for his glasses, the rest hanging loosely down to the nape of his neck. Poor kid was desperate for a haircut. His cheekbones and jaw were still chiseled however but his face was not yet littered with lines of stress, sleepless nights, and age.
Hobie quickly grabs the yearbook, vigorously flipping through the pages until he stops on a picture of a young Miguel holding up a mathlete trophy, awkward smile and all. “This is my favorite picture. Do you still smile like that, bruv?”
“How did you all get this?” Miguel ask his irration clear from how he pinch’s the bridge of his nose as if that will somehow stop his building anger.
Very aware of the sight of Miguel about to rage out, the young spiders quickly part, pointing the blame to a laughing Peter. Who finally quits his laughing fit as now he is staring into the eyes of a very irritated Miguel, waiting for an explanation.
Peter nervously clears his throat before speaking, “Wel, uh…do you remember a couple of days ago when you told me to drop off that equipment at your apartment? Well…I happened to see this on your living room bookshelf and thought I would look at it. Then I saw how much you had changed…and I figured the kiddos would get a kick out of it…”
Miguel's eyes narrow, and his talons pop out, ready to bounce, but that is quickly descalated by Gwen taking back the yearbook, prepared to negotiate peace.
“Okay, okay, no need to rip his head off; we will return your book.” Miguel's body relaxes as he sighs with relief. Holding out his hand for the book, but Gwen smirks, pulling the book back out of his reach, “But, you have to show us your old crush first.”
Miguel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head at the terms of the agreement, and everyone else, including Layla, starts oohing. Making Miguel pitch the bridge of his nose again, muttering under his breath, “Esto tiene que ser una pesadilla…” (this has to be a nightmare…)
Then, to make things worse, they start chanting, “Show us….Show us…Show us! Show us!!”
The chatting becomes too much, and he snaps, holding out his hand irritatedly for the book. “Fine! I will show you; just shut up!”
A yay fills the room as Miguel starts flipping through the book as soon as it’s laid in his hand. Everyone waits in bated breath until finally landing on the correct page. It's the page he spent the summer before college staring at, the picture he had agonized over. Miguel pauses, taking in the picture, and he feels those familiar feelings rushing up and swelling in his chest…Those high school crushes do hit you hard…
Even after all these years, he still remembers you so vividly; seeing the picture always solidifies for himself as confirmation as to why he had liked you so much. Beautiful and popular, everyone would only have positive things to say about you, even if your friend group wasn’t as nice. Miguel remembers that sweetness fondly. Though, behind that sweet smile, there was a mischievous side of you; he recalls hearing it hidden in your cooing voice when you would say that pet name during chemistry class…
“Miggy~”
The memory warms Miguel's cheeks, but he quickly dismisses the feeling. “There, that's her.”
The teens quickly grab the book back, climbing over each other to marvel at the picture of the girl the oh-so-scary Spider-Man 2099 had a crush on when he was their age.
“Wow, she's stunning!” Gwen complements
Miguel hums in agreement, “Yeah… the prettiest girl in my grade…prom queen, part of the student council, incredibly sweet…, and we took chemistry together…”
Pav and Hobie shoot Miguel a smirk, and he quickly huffs, folding his arms over his chest.
“Ever work up the nerve to confess?” Pav questions, ever the romantic.
The group watches as Miguel closes his eyes, thinking as the blush from earlier slowly rises to his tan cheeks, making them all gasp in excitement.
“You did!” They all scream, but Miguel is quick to correct them.
“Well…technically…I didn’t”
“What do you mean technically?” Miles prys
Miguel can’t believe he admitted this much, but since he's already down the rabbit hole, he might as well give some more context: “At graduation…I kinda did, then I…ran away…”
A look of shock and confusion fills the teenager's faces, but Peter is all grins as he goes to give Miguel a high five: “Ah, the mysterious type. Nice.”
Gwen quickly swats the older man on the shoulder, earning a whine from Peter.
“Not nice! That is so confusing! You just ran? Did you ever talk to her again?”
Miguel takes a second to avoid eye contact, stoically starting to the side, before letting out a quiet, “No…”
There is a collective groan, and Miguel rolls his eyes, trying to contain his embarrassment.
“Can we stop talking about this and return to work now?”
“Have you seen her since?” Miles questions,
“No,” Miguel answers sharply, irritation coming back up.
“Wha-what! How will you ever win her love if you don’t clear up the misunderstanding and confess your true feelings!” Pav laments, making everyone look at him with a raised brow.
“Pav, mate…you know how long it's been since he's seen her?” Hobie chides
Pav shrugs slightly, muttering, “Maybe it could be like a romantic thing…”
“So wait, You have all the resources and never thought to at least search her out? Aren't you curious?” Gwen questions.
“No, I never thought about stalking my old crush. Now, can we please-”
“She lives in the city!” Miles' voice calls out, making Miguel whip around.
Miles and Layla stand on Miguel's platform with your picture, info, and social media pulled up on his halo screens. Everyone is quick to web over, including Miguel. Miguel quickly pushes away a beaming Miles as he takes in all your information. He sees where you went to college, where you work, and…
“Ooohhh! She's still single!” Pav beams, looking at Miguel expectancy.
Miguel rolls his eyes as he keeps looking at you, still as perfect as he remembered. Somehow, you seem more confident in yourself, you seem…sexier…
Feelings start rising back to Miguel's chest. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and even your pictures still stir something within him.
“Wow! This is awesome!” Miles beams, pointing to one of the screens
Miguel, being too lost in your pictures, hasn’t realized what the teens are yammering about until they all start shaking him back and forth in excitement. Then he finally hears it.
“You can see her at your High School reunion! It's coming up in a couple of weeks!”
Miguel turns his head to the invitation Layla had pulled up. “You got this a month ago but didn’t think you would be interested…. It looks like you will be attending now though!”
Before he can protest, she is RSVPing, and all the teens are hollering in laughter and giving high-fives. Everything is happening so fast that all Miguel can do is stand there in something akin to a trance. That's until Pav comes up to him with a giddy smile,
“It’s like density!”
Miguel groans…he just wants everyone to get back to work…
They really got him here….How the hell did he let them convince him to come here? They even managed to get him to dress up…
Hair in its usually slick back style, slate gray button down that did little to hide his bulk, and black trousers that he thought appeared too tight but Layla had insisted upon.
Miguel stands uncomfortably off to the side as people he used to know all gather together, chit-chatting about their lives and reminiscing on the good ol days… All while Miguel stays sulking in the corner…Maybe things from high school haven’t changed that much. Well, despite the whole genetic splicing that made him a superhero… and instead of still being the captain of the Mathletes team, he's now the CEO of Alecamax. However, one thing remains the same: When he is in a room filled with all these people from school, his eyes still roam around, trying to find you…
High school had not been kind to a nerd like him. He was 9 inches shorter, and the most important things to him were keeping all A’s, getting into his dream college, keeping up with his favorite comic series, avoiding bullying, and wanting so badly to kiss his crush.
Miguel vividly recalls all those times in chemistry when you two worked so closely together. Miguel shyly muttering the mixing process while you lean in with stars in your eyes, taking it all in. Miguel never knew if you were interested in what he was saying or if you were trying to get a good grade, but he didn’t care. You still made his cheeks flush and heart race all the same.
“Then…Whe-when you add fluid B to A, you will get a fizzing reaction…”
A shaking Younger Miguel tries to steadily pour in the fluids while you watch, leaning in so close he could smell your sweet perfume and look at your glittery glossed lips.
“Wow! Miggy, you’re so smart.” Your voice would be like sweet honey praising him, and the mere closeness of you to him would make his body feel like it was going to melt.
“I keep telling my friends I have the best lab partner…” Miguel feels his throat dry as your hand slowly curls over his forearm. Then the bell rings, and Miguel is flustered, packing his things as you smile sweetly and wave goodbye.
God, you must have been just messing with him, toying with him, knowing he was like a love-sick puppy for you. The worst part, if this was the case, he would have let you…Miguel would have let you toy and bat away at his heart until you felt content with it fully unraveling to you. Pathetic…is that what you thought? Well, if it wasn’t what you thought of him before, it must be what you thought after his pitiful confession…
Miguel thinks back to that night when he last saw you…that all too familiar warmth threatens to take him over, so as he stares down at his drink, he slips back to that moment…
The ceremony had ended, everyone had exited the stadium, and Miguel was taking a second to calm himself in the dark hallway. High school was over, and his life was beginning. He was thinking back on all his decisions for this new chapter. Miguel fidgets with his graduation cap and thinks about what awaits him. Then he thinks about the things he missed out on…
Then your face comes to mind…he had vowed to confess; even if you laughed and rejected him, he wanted to get his feelings off his chest. But when it came down to it, he let his shyness get the better of him and let you slip through his fingers without telling you. This was high school? He was sure to like other girls…but why was this eating away at him so much? Why did he feel so sick to his stomach for not doing this…
The sound of clicking heels fills the corridor, and like fate, you are walking through the hallway back toward him. Miguel adjusts his glasses, unsure if this is some kind of halustion brought on by self-pity, but no… it was you…
As soon as your eyes locked to his, your lips curled to that all too familiar smile, the one that was so sweet. Then your voice rang that teasing nickname you graciously bestowed upon him.
“Miggy, what are you doing, silly? Hanging out in the dark…Don’t you want to go celebrate?”
“Oh…... I didn’t plan to go to any parties… just going to go home and get started on some summer reading…”
The smile that curled on your lips was additive as you stepped closer to his slouching form, “hm…Miggy…always so prepared… I’m going to miss seeing you around so much. I’m sure you're the only reason I passed chem!”
“No…I am sure you will have more interesting people to talk to than a nerd like me…”
“Maybe I like talking to nerds like you.”
The statement made Miguel look up to see you so close to him mischive filling your eyes. He feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you…
“You don’t mean that…” he chuckles softly.
Then your index finger lifts his chin, and you look at him with sweet eyes, but your tone is stern, “Don’t tell me what I mean…”
Miguel feels his heartbeat quicken, and his palms begin to sweat. Before he can return to rational thought, he leans into you.
He so gently cups your cheek with his nervous hands. Brushing his nose against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your glossed lips. Then, your lips finally meet, he isn’t sure who fills the gap but it doesn’t matter.
The kiss was so sweet, and he tried to hold you gently, but he knew you could feel the shaking of his hands and the heat rushing to his face. Everything around you two seemed to fade.
Eyes shut tightly from falling into the depths of the kiss, he finally after a couple minutes pulls away to breathe. Peeking open his eyes, Miguels sees you are breathless, and your face is burning with a deep blush as well. You look so surprised... and he doesn't know what to say or how to explain.
“I’m sorry…I just had to do that once…” he confessed. Then he ran off… leaving you alone in that dark hallway, scared of what you would say next…
“Miggy!”
“Miggy!”
“Miguel?”
Lost in his thoughts, Miguel failed to notice that one of his ex-classmates had been trying to get his attention. Someone must have finally recognized him. Looking up from his cup, Miguel expects to see one of his old mathlete teammates, but as he finally meets their eyes, he feels his heart stop at the sight.
Looking up at him with that same sweet smile, you look just like he remembers: completely radiant.
“Miguel, that's gotta be you… Do you remember me?” -How could he not remember you?
Miguel feels himself staring as his thoughts run everywhere; what does he say? What does he do?
“I…I, of course, remember m-my lab partner.” -Okay, a little shaky…But with your face seeming to light up when he says he remembers and your eyes roaming over him, he can’t chastise himself too much for stuttering now. Miguel feels his hands starting to become clammy, and his stomach feels full of butterflies…shit…this feels like high school all over again.
“I can not believe how different you look!”
“Yeah, late growth spurt and I uh… I started going…to the gym a lot….You though! You still look so beati- uh nice…good you look outstanding…” His mind is running a mile a minute, and he can’t believe how he is acting right now! He's Spider-Man, and he’s acting so nervous?
Smirking, you look as if you could read his mind about how nervous he is, though to anyone with working eyes, it was obvious.
“You think I look good?” you ask, playful spinning, making Miguel's eyes take in just how tight your dress is. “I was hoping for beautiful…” you smile, giving him a wink. His blood rushes in his veins, and he swallows his suddenly dry throat.
You could eat him alive…and he would let you…
“Beautiful then, you - uh… you have always looked beautiful…”
“Thank you, Miguel, you look very handsome.” Miguel feels his heart racing as you step closer. His eyes stay on your confident smile. It teeters on cocky, and Miguel can’t bring himself to hate it…he loves it…
“Though Miguel, I do have to say…I miss the glasses; they were really cute.”
“I still have some that I wear sometimes,” he says a bit too eagerly.
Your smirk widens, “Really? Does your girlfriend like them?”
“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.”
The smirk on your lips borders on sinful “Good…” You purr
Miguel feels a wave of electricity shake through him. Are you flirting? Miguel can’t help the smile and blush that's now reached to the tips of his ears. Miguel came here thinking that you wouldn’t be here, and if you were, you would be avoiding him, but he didn’t expect this. Do you even remember it? Well, of course, you would! Who forgets getting kissed, and then the person runs? He needs to apologize before he never sees you again.
“So Umm…I am glad I got to see you, well other than it’s just nice seeing you…but I want to apologize…”
“You’re talking about graduation.” Your cheerful voice cuts him off and utterly confuses him. Furrowing his brow, he’s lost and hoping you can explain.
“Miguel, I liked the kiss…I wish you wouldn’t had run away…”
Miguel is sure he’s died, and there is no possible way you're saying this to him. Sweet, perfect you, liked when he kissed you. Nerdy awkward him? Gently, Miguel feels your hands touching his chest, slowly dancing your fingertips over his muscles. Miguel hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat is racing right now.
“You know, now that I really think about it…you owe me an apology or something. It was very rude of you to kiss me suddenly and then run away like that, teasing me. Then, when I went to reach out to you, you didn't have any socials. That's not very nice to do, you know…”
Your hand slightly grazes his jaw, and he feels like he could melt. Rising to your tiptoes, you try to whisper in his ear as you lean into his chest, your chest rubbing against him. Miguel can feel himself starting to break in a sweat.
“I thought you were sweet…”
Miguel feels you start to pull away, and in a moment of bravery or desperation, he carefully places his hands on your waist. Leaning down, he whispers back to you.
“Could I make it up to you somehow?”
“I have an idea…if you're up for it?”
Gathering his confidence, when he sees your smile, he squeezes your sides slightly, “Anything you want.”
Without any hesitation, you grab his large hand from your waist and pull him along with you to slip out of the reception room into a dark hallway. The irony is not lost on either of you as you grin and pull each other close. Your lips are so close to his as you lean into his chest.
“You're not going to run away this time. I want you to do this properly…”
Part of Miguel feels like he could be dreaming; your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, smiling at him so sweetly. Your eyes are one of pure hunger, and your voice is so transparent with your want. It’s perfect.
Miguel brushes his thumb over your tempting lips, slightly dragging the bottom down while he tries to archer himself back to reality. Moving his hand to your neck as he leans in and kisses you. Your lips are soft and perfectly guiding against his. Miguel's hands fall to your hips; he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin, making you gasp into his mouth with a moan. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed you, and he wants to make sure you know how much he wants you… trying his hardest to impress you.
The fingers in his hair tighten to a fist as you guide him to part his plush lips, then slip in your tongue to get a taste of him. It’s gentle at first but quickly heats up from your eager influence. Then you start straddling his thick thigh, grinding slightly against him. Both your bodies feel like you’ve been set on fire in a blazing flame of want.
“Miggy, I always liked you…just-”
Before you can finish your words, Miguel drives his tongue back into your mouth, eager to taste those words he had always wanted to hear. His hands cup your ass as he drives his knee deeper between your legs, letting you use him more. Breaking the kiss, you let out the most perfect moans as your body tingles and shivers. Miguel hasn’t had enough of you yet as he keeps his mouth kissing against your flushed skin. His tongue rolls over your rapid pulse as you keep grinding and mewing for more.
“Fuck, miggy~”
Miguel licks a long strip up your neck before grunting in your ear, “I… I only came here… to see you…t-talk to you…”
His rough words make you grind against him more, and right as Miguel starts to feel your slick soaking through his pants, you pull his hair, successfully pulling a whimper from him, which is quickly cut off by your soft lips to his again. Then, as you pull away, you bite his bottom lip, which makes him shiver.
“Can…can I take you home…” Miguel asks breathlessly, his hands still squeezing your ass.
A small giggle leaves your kiss-bitten lips as you take a second to fix his now-disheveled hair, thanks to you.
“Take me to your place, Miggy; you still owe me…”
Miguel feels a rush of excitement run through him, making his length throb at your words. You really are going to eat him alive…
It's the perfect sight he’s only ever dreamed of seeing, you sitting on his large bed completely naked, a sweet smile on your face, soft legs crossed over each other, waiting patiently for him. Miguel adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose…you had insisted, and he’s finding he can’t deny you…
Miguel slips off his underwear, kicking them away. Your eyes widen as you see his massive length slap against his abdomen, then hanging heavily. Your eyes rake over his immaculate form; the sight of you licking your lips isn’t lost on him.
“Strip for me, Miggy,” you had taunted as you dropped your dress with little effort, waiting for him to follow. Of course, he did. He would follow anything your sweet voice commands. Just please…let him touch you…
Running his hand through his hair, Miguel approaches you, but your sweet voice tuts to him in disapproval, and he pauses.
“No walking, I want you to crawl on your hands and knees…please? Miggy~”
Every time you use that old nickname, he feels his cock twitch. Keeping his now blazing eyes on you as he slowly sinks to his knees and begins to crawl to you obediently. The action is meant to make him look submissive, but you find that even now, he looks like a predator getting ready to devour its prey… The shiver that shoots down your spine goes right to your sex, making you drip down on his sheets.
As Miguel crawls closer, you unfold your legs, stretching one out slowly toward him. His large hand immediately catches your ankle. Hungry eyes look up at you, blazing with want, as his hand slowly caresses up your leg. Miguel's lips kiss softly against your calf while he whispers faint words under his breath after every kiss. His eyes watch you as he slowly raises your legs, the back of your thighs being pressed against his broad shoulders.
Miguel's hands grab your hips, making you slip a moan. His eyes turn softer as he hears you keen, his lips coming away from the fresh mark he's left on your inner thigh. Miguel's lips part to apologize, but you're quick to interrupt before he can.
Leaning forward, you push his glasses back into their proper place and caress his cheek. “You're doing so well for me, Miguel…though…It does feel like you're trying to make me beg… Are you trying to tease me?”
Miguel's lips curl into a smile as he lowers his face to lick his tongue against your clit. You throw your head back at the hot contact, Miguel groaning at the sweet taste of your cyprine.
“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you…” Miguel's lips lower down to your clit agin before he gives it a quick lick.
Unable to help yourself, you grab a fist full of his hair, making him let out a soft groan, “Then devore me, Miggy; you still owe me, remember? And I-Ah!~”
Before you can finish your taunting, Miguel is driving his face into your wet sex to selfishly devore more of you. Long slow licks of his warm tongue send waves of pleasure to flood your body as your toes curl from every push of his nose to your clit.
His breaths for air huffing against your quivering sex, the tip of his tongue darting back to lick against your soft folds, making you whine. Looking down at him, his glasses crooked and hazy and his groans continue to vibrate through your pussy. Then the sensation of his tongue probing you open makes you close your thighs against his head and grab this thick hair, pulling hard enough for a grunt to slip through his chest. Getting the message, Miguel moves his tongue to lick your sensitive clit as his finger slips into you. Your grip on his hair gets tighter as you squirm, grinding your hips against his face, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves moan after moan. Your body starts shaking at the addition of another finger, making you feel jolts of pleasure that make you need to roll your hips onto his face more.
Miguel could carless at the apparent use of his face for your pleasure; it's all he craves right now, your cum to dip all over his eager tongue. For your hips grind onto his face for hours. He would stay on his knees worshiping you like this until you're calling out from too much pleasure, and even then, he doesn’t know how he could pull himself away from your delicious taste.
You feel him groan into you, the vibrations rushing through you to cause you to gasp and shiver as his tongue keeps sliding in and out of you, desperate for your sweetness. You want more, need more, you crave it with every roll of your hips; you want him in you deeply. Unclenching your thighs from his head, you pull his hair, forcing his face from you with a wet pop.
Miguel's eyes are blown as he keeps them steady on yours, his full lips parted and panting. The sight of his face glistening with a mix of his saliva and your arousal is sinful and complete perfection. His poor glasses are resting on his face, still lopsided from his ravenous pursuit to taste your cunt. Leaving forward, you keep a smile as you hold his cheek; he immediately melts into it. Grabbing his glasses from his head, you toss them to his nightstand; before he can say anything to you, you're leaning forward to bring him into a kiss. His lips and tongue are laced with you, and you can’t help but want to giggle as he groans and leans his whole body onto you, so needy for more.
With a gentle push to his massive chest, you can change the positions as you now straddle his hips effortlessly. You are slowly running your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling his hair decorating his skin, making your mouth water. As you shift yourself up, you feel his swollen length hanging heavily as you nudge against it. The tip is hot and already pebbling with glistening pre-cum, straining for you to envelope around him. Reaching down, you flick your eyes from his eyes to his length.
Miguel sure has changed over the years, but his face is so breathless and furrowing with every strained pleasure as you slide your thumb over his cocks slit. Whining so softly, sounding like the sweet nerd you remember. On the other hand, Miguel is witnessing you in a way only his mind had fantasized about. Your smile is no longer so sweet but devious; He wants to push his cock into you so deeply and have you shudder and scream while you gush all over him, But this teasing and taunting… it's mouth-watering.
Touching his length, you feel the sheer heat of it as you carefully trace over the soft skin, feeling every vein. Tracing over the red weeping tip, you feel him shudder and mumble something under his breath as you grasp him to hold against you, seeing that he measures to your stomach. You can't help but bite your lip in anticipation of the stretch.
Your eyes flick back to Miguels, “Think it will fit?” you tease.
“I will make it fit…” his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine.
Lifting to your knees, you line up his tip to brush on your clit, making you gasp as you slip him through your folds. Then finally, you slip him in slowly, feeling his cock stretch your fluttering hole; the stretch is intense and makes you roll your eyes as your back arches. Miguel grabs your ass tightly, bucking his hips to sink in a bit faster; he pants a sorry as you let out a moan and squeeze your hands on his chest for support. Looking down at his beautifully blushing face, you only smile as you sink deeper.
“So eager, Miggy~”
All Miguel can manage is a smile as he works hard to keep himself from bottoming out immediately. He so badly just wants to shove it in deeply and rut into you like a damn animal. A groan builds in his throat as he tries to keep himself from whimpering as you continue to sink so slowly. His cock throbbing and stretching your walls as it heats your insides. Before he can manage a whine, you sink all the way down, taking every inch; before either of you can moan, you lean down to catch his lips in a needy kiss, taking control you guide him, your tongue pushes past his lips to taste his groans. While his tongue eagerly does the same. Pulling away from the kiss, you grind against him, relishing in the feeling of his cock pushing in deeper and his trimmed hairs tickling your sensitive skin; you can’t help but bite his bottom lip to compensate for the mind-numbing feeling.
Miguel's hands squeeze harder, making you release his lip as your cunt to clenchs on him, the moan of his name dropping from your lips as your hips start to grind on him at a slow pace. Using your hands, you slightly push yourself up and rock your hips back and forth, letting his cock slide to bully your gummy insides, brushing your cervix with every nudge. Miguels is mesmerized as he roams his hands over your body, worshiping every inch of your skin with his careful fingertips brushing and rubbing you so tenderly. His hands come to your breast, where he takes a minute to squeeze and pinch your nipples, your whimper in response, and grind harder against his cock, pushing him to rub harder against your cervix.
“You look s-so fucking beautiful…your body, your…tatse…I’ve never stopped thi-thinking of you…” Miguel mutters through pants of hot breaths.
The words spur you on, and you start to pick up your pace, making him moan out and guide your hips to rock back and forth faster, “Always so sweet…” you coo to him…the words are less taunting but just true; he has always been sweet to you…
“Only for you…” he muses, and you can’t help but smile,
“Good…”
You feel yourself starting to sip from having a clear head that's now blurring in a haze of lust as you continue to pursue your pleasure on his girth. Pushing in and out on him quicker. Your hands grab onto him tighter as you ravish your tight pussy with his throbbing cock. Begging for both his and your release. Fucking so deep in you, now your jaw falls slack as his cock keeps pushing against your velvety sweet spot, making jolts of pleasure pulse through your body with every bounce.
The sweat that has built on your bodies works hard to try and cool your fevered states, but with every push into your cunt and with every clench around his length rousing him to go deeper makes it all in vain. There is no cooling as you two approach your white hot release, bodies only growing more hot and sensitive with every whine and every mind-numbing push. So close to tipping the other to ecstasy…
With a couple of aided thrust from Miguel fucking up into you, your muscles tenase and your mouth falls open in a pitched scream of his name as your danm burst making you clench and shudder on his cock, coming undone on top of him. You're quivering on his length as he carefully grinds you through your drenching pleasure, the feeling of his cock slipping deeper as you eagerly ride him through your high.
With the way you clench so tightly and grind faster, Miguel couldn't help but feel himself throb and spurt right into your cervix. The feeling of it spurting so thickly, his cock pulsing inside of you, feeling so heavy in you with each twitch. This cum is hot and fills you so that it's leaking down mixing with your arousal, creating a sticky mess. You can't help yourself when you side on more and more feeling your cunt want to stick to his skin.
Haze starting to clear you fall forward on him, you try to catch your breath in between placing frantic kisses to Miguel's chest and neck. Your orgasm leaves you utterly satisfied, but Miguels is not done…
With a quick turning over your body, you're lying on your back now as Miguel situates himself between your legs. He takes time to look over your flushed form, his massive hands dragging over your sensitive body, and you shiver and buck your hips up. Miguel takes your legs, pushing them up to your chest, making your mew from his touch, your pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel feels his breath catch as his cum leaks out of your trembling puffy cunt in milky drops. Miguel releases one of your legs to fall to his shoulder so he can plam his cock, still erect and ready for more. His red eyes flick back to your blisted-out face, and though you're at the point of overstimulation, you still ache for more.
“M-Miggy…” you're the one to tremble shyly for him now, and the switch of the roles makes him fold. He’s helpless for you…
Leaning down carefully, Miguel cages you between his massive arms as he places a gentle, sweet kiss on your begging lips. Breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear so softly, “More? Can you give me more? Perfect girl…let me feel you again…please…”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin, you buck your hips up in your whine of, “More, Please, Miggy ah—I need more of you, always. You are so good to me.”
He catches your hips in a quick grip as he lifts them up, smiling; it's everything he has ever wanted to hear from your sweet lips. And he is always eager to satisfy you.
Miguel slips his cock into you with a groan; you're already so sensitive as he pushes down to the base, filling you so quickly that your body already starts quivering around him. Pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin, he rolls his hips slow and deep. He is taking his time with you. Every thrust is hot and tingling, and you feel that familiar tense starting to build up again from the consistent pace he's set. Managing to open your eyes through moans and rolls, you see Miguel with beautifully flushed cheeks, eyes filled with want as he softly pants and whimpers with each clench of your wet cunt.
As his pace quickens, you feel him throb, giving you new resolve to meet your hips with each thrust, and your core starts to burn deliciously. Your nails find their place, digging into his broad back. Every slap of his balls to your overly sensitive skin makes you moan and throw your head back. Miguel takes the opportunity to kiss and lick against your neck, his hot breath rushing over you. With a final clench and strained moan, you feel that white-hot wave of pleasure burn through you; his body shudders at the feeling of your cunt, so desperate to cum against him to milk him dry again. His groan borders on a whine as his hips are still, and you feel that familiar throbbing against your cervix as his thick cum fills you up. Looking up at him, you watch his face contort to be in complete pleasure; the sight of it is completely addicting.
Staying in you till you are both down from your highs, he slowly pulls out his softening cock. The pooling of both of your cum completely ruins the sheets underneath you, but Miguel doesn’t worry about that. He brushes stray hairs from your face and whispers he will be right back. You're too exhausted to move, and you can only twitch slightly as you feel a cool cloth cleaning you up so gently.
After cleaning you up, you feel the bed sink beside you and the feeling of an arm around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, his other hand brushing through your hair so carefully. You gather your energy to curl into Miguel with a broad smile. You two lay there, slowly drifting away in each other's comfort.
Clearing his throat, Miguel tries to be as unawkward as possible, and it only manages to make you smile more; you two just had amazing sex, and he’s still nervous; some things die hard, you guess. Looking up at him, you see he’s trying to gather up the best way to approach his next words; this night has been everything he hoped, and he doesn’t want to blow it now, but he needs to know the answer to his question,
“Can-can I…take you out on a date?”
His face is completely sincere and flushed; you have to bite back your giggle before you answer.
“Miggy, about time you asked…”
You two set the date up for the next night; Miguel, of course, wore his glasses…
summary: Miguel is feeling a bit out of your league, so you remind him that he’s just in your lane.
content warning: established relationship (they’re married with kids!), domestic fluff, mild hurt/comfort due to Miguel being an idiot that does not understand The Female Gaze, some miscommunication between reader and Miguel, 18+ so MDNI, a little raunchier than I intended tbh but hopefully I presented DB!Mig well, body worship, heated tension, reader is like obsessed with Miguel’s new Dad Bod, deepthroat 😗, missionary position, unprotected p in v sex (WRAP IT UP 🫵🏾), the word Ma as a term of endearment from Miguel to reader two times
word count: 5.3k, halfway proofread
a/n: Fulfilling this first because this was technically my first request! I added a few more elements (thank you Miguel server!), so I hope you don’t mind. There were no specific requests other than fluff and smut, so I went with the flow. I hope you enjoy! (Also, I found the original artist's post here!! Go give them some love!)
Your blood is pumping as you round the corner, only a few more steps until you reach the driveway.
The jog today was pretty refreshing. There were no calls from work asking about things that could wait until 8 AM, no toddler fussing about waking up, and no child whining about getting homework done. It was just you, your FitBit, your steamy audiobook, and the lingering thoughts of meeting your husband’s eyes this morning. Lately, it’s been like a little game to rile him up.
You’ve been married for a few years and a family of four for seven years with a sweet little girl, a second grader with the attitude of an old lady, and a precious little boy, a preschooler with keen intuition. With your lives being consumed with work and taking care of the kids, you feel like your relationship has been put on the back burner. Long gone were the days in which you two made love at the drop of a hat, fucking on anything that could hold you. Now, you were lucky enough to get a little dry humping.
It was getting depressing, and more annoyingly, frustrating, so you started to put your riled-up energy elsewhere. You were up at the crack of dawn making everyone’s lunches and going on occasional jogs, you were using your PTO for brunches with the girls and spa days, you had regular pilates classes, the real pilates, and most importantly, you were finding small pockets of time for yourself.
From buying yourself small gifts to filling your Kindle with romance books to pleasuring yourself on the nights Miguel worked overtime. You were sure to keep yourself busy. All of that, and you still couldn’t get the thought of Miguel entangled with you out of your head.
You heaved out as you stopped at the end of the driveway, taking a few breaths to calm your state. The book you were listening to was on a particularly enthralling scene and you wondered if it was something that Miguel would be interested in trying.
You looked down at yourself and decided to unzip the top of your athletic jacket, letting the tightness of your bra and the fabric push your cleavage up. One smooth swipe of your clothes and you were walking to the front door.
It was 6:40 AM, so there was plenty of time to have a little quiet moment with your husband.
You walked into the kitchen and saw him standing in all of his glory. A newspaper in his left hand, because some things didn’t need to be digitized, a “Best Papá Ever” mug in his right hand, black glasses on his face, and your favorite thing, a naked plush torso on display.
In the first years of parenthood, his metabolism was through the roof. Despite him joining you for every snack, meal, and midnight dessert, he never lost that tiny little waist or those washboard abs. It wasn’t until your youngest was born and babbling that his appearance started to change. His arms became a mix of muscle and cellulite, his thighs were softer than ever, his chest was full and plump, and his waist widened gifting you with his soft belly and a happy trail that continued to his belly button.
The early time didn’t stop the coil of neediness in your stomach from forming.
“Good morning, hubby,” you say with a lilt to your voice. You walked closer to him, an extra bounce in your step, and leaned on the island.
Sure enough, Miguel was peeking at your chest from over his glasses, mug hovering over his lips.
You only smiled coyly, waiting for his response.
“Good morning. How was your jog?” he puts the newspaper and mug down, folding his arms under his chest.
You stared at his bulging arms, pressed-up pecs, and his tummy that moved with him and almost whined.
“It was really good. Super nice and refreshing. Maybe a little warm,” you crossed your legs, impatient. “How’s your morning so far?”
“It’s better,” he says, making the short distance to crowd your space. He leans over you, hands going to the island. “My wife is here now.”
You smile at his words, hands itching to touch him but not wanting to ruin the stride. Instead, you look up at him and pan his lips.
“I’m feeling better, too,” you whisper, waiting.
Miguel leans forward to press his lips onto yours, the smell of coffee hitting your senses. You feel little fireworks go off as he starts to open your mouth. Everything felt just right in this moment.
When his hand slid across your back, you almost jumped up to wrap your legs around him. You tilted your head and wrapped your arms around his neck. You could feel yourself slipping against the counter, but Miguel was right there to steady you.
For what felt like hours to you after so long of a heated connection, the two of you made out on the kitchen island. Only some birds chirping, the occasional car passing by, and the hum of the washing machine could be heard next to the sound of you both breathing into each other’s lips
“Come with me to the shower?” you say, eyes heavy and pleading.
You could feel Miguel tense up, back rigid as he moved back.
“I better stay. Raul might wake up soon and he was having a hard time sleeping last night.”
Your heart dropped at the rejection. You were hoping that this would be the one, the moment that you’ve been anticipating for months. Some form of sexual connection.
“Ok. I’ll be out soon,” you turn and go to the master bathroom, tugging the zipper down hastily. You felt a bit dejected and embarrassed, but you’re trying to let it go. Your mommy side knows that your youngest woke up in distress last night so it makes perfect sense that Miguel wants to be alert for his cries, but your wife side wants her husband back and can’t help but feel like he didn’t want you.
With this brisk shower, you hoped this self-doubt and neediness washed away with it.
You tapped your fingers against the desk, staring off at your computer. Work today was slow, which you didn’t mind because that meant you could frequent your watchlist, but your mind kept wandering off while watching some random K-drama.
Last night, you woke up to what sounded like Miguel getting off in the bathroom.
He got off work super late that day, so you took the initiative to get the kids to bed and go to bed early.
What you didn’t expect was to wake up to the sound of his grunts coming through the bathroom door.
At first, you were a little hurt that he didn’t wake you up to help him out, but then you were so overcome by the sound of him whimpering and moaning that you couldn’t help but pleasure yourself.
He sounded so desperate and wanton, cursing every once in a while. You bit your lip as you imagined him right next to you, voice right in your ear. You wanted his weight on you. You wanted to feel his skin against yours.
You lay in the empty bed rubbing yourself until you came, his noises stopping a while before you finished. You were hoping he would come out and see you so you prolong your orgasm to no avail, sleep coming to claim you before he did.
When you tried to ask him about it in the morning, he kept avoiding your eyes, saying something about his stomach giving him the blues.
You let it go then, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about it all day.
In a spur-of-the-moment decision, you decide to text him a flirty message, running to the bathroom to take a picture to match. You waited a little bit, hoping that he could take at least a peek.
“You look gorgeous, honey.”
Just gorgeous? Not hot? Not good enough to make him want more?
You scrunched your mouth to the side, asking if he could send a picture back.
“Baby, you know I can’t. I’m at work right now.”
You huffed at that. You knew he was just in his lab by himself. There was plenty of time and solitude to take a picture. He used to send random pictures of himself all of the time.
For the rest of the day, you were irritated, feeling slighted at the hands of your husband.
You took a break from trying to seduce your husband, tired of the pushback. You put your all into taking care of the kids and maintaining the house when you could.
“And how many sticks does that leave Cassie with?” you asked Gabriella. You both were at the dining table with her math homework sprawled everywhere while dinner was in the oven.
“27!” she shouted, voice becoming more confident over the course of the math sheet.
“Correct! You’re knocking ‘em out, girl!”
“Buen trabajo, mija,” Miguel said with vigor as he came by to kiss the top of her head. “You’re doing so well.” (Good job, mija.)
“Does this mean I can get a cookie?” she asked, quick to melt her father’s heart.
“Not before dinner, Gabriella, you know this,” Miguel bounced Raul in his arms, a little fussy and sniffly.
“Please, papá!” she looked up at him with big brown eyes and a pout.
Miguel sighed, unable to say no to her 9 times out of 10.
He looked at you frantically, watching you snickering behind your hands, “You have to ask Mamá.”
Whenever he really wanted to say no, he used you as a trump card.
Gabriella’s shoulders drop as she turns to you, already knowing the drill.
“The answer is no. You can wait until after dinner,” you say, squeezing her cheek.
“You always say no,” Gabriella whines dramatically, slumping in her seat with her arms crossed, pout just like her dad’s.
“And you can always go to bed with no cookies,” you chide as you get up to go check on dinner. “Now go put your homework up and wash your hands, dinner is almost ready.”
She puts her papers back in her folder with the theatrics of a Broadway actor, sighing dramatically with each step she took to her room.
Miguel laughed at her actions watching her leave, “She’s just like her Mami when she gets like that. Fussy.”
You pause to put your hand on your hip, “No, she’s just like her Father when she can’t get her way. Whiny.” You open the oven and pull the lasagna out to the stove to cool a bit.
“Well, I can’t say no to her just like I can’t say no to you,” he says, placing Raul at the table with a hand running over his soft hair. “You both have the same puppy-dog eyes.”
“You like leaving the hard parenting to me.”
“That is not true. I just tussled with a four-year-old to get him to take his cold medicine and made a promise of not one, but two bedtime stories,” he says, coming up behind you as you reached to get the dishes. He got them down for you instead, hand on your hips and stomach pressed against your back.
You bite your tongue in order not to will your negligent, horny brain from awakening. You didn’t have time for those thoughts, little feet were near, and every advance you gave him ended in failure.
“Is he doing ok?” you say, referring to Raul he sat at the table with his head down, a teddy bear hugged against him as he pitifully moved his toy car back and forth. It was definitely a big shift from his usual talkative demeanor.
“We might have to go to the doctor again. His allergies are really acting up.”
You leave Miguel’s side to go squat down by Raul, “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
You rubbed his back, trying to see if he felt warmer than usual and sure enough, he was burning up.
“My throat hurts, Mama,” he said, little voice just about gone.
“Oh, I know, my sweet baby,” you say with a soft voice. “Do you want me to make you some alphabet soup?”
Raul’s face twists up, lip a little wobbly, “But I want some cheese noodles.”
“Hey, it’s ok!. You can have some lasagna. I just want your throat to feel better. Hot things will make it feel better.”
“The cheese noodles are hot, too.”
You smiled, “That’s right, the cheese noodles are hot, but I mean a hot liquid.”
He stayed quiet for a moment, hands squeezing his teddy bear as he thought, “Can I have hot chocolate?”
“Of course you can. Can I give you a kiss?”
He nods his head slowly and you lean over to kiss his head. You needed to get him under the covers soon. Before you could pull away, he wrapped his arms around your neck, snuggling up to be held. You couldn’t resist holding your baby, especially when you couldn’t take his pain away.
You get up to see Miguel helping Gabriella plate the slices of lasagna on each plate and setting up the side salad. Your heart filled with joy watching them giggle over the stretchy cheese. It was moments like this that reminded you that you were taking the right steps, that this was the perfect little life.
As they set up the table with the plates and drinks, you kept Raul in your arms, ready to help him with tonight's dinner.
“Thank you for the food, Mommy,” Gabriella said with a toothy smile.
“You’re welcome, baby,” you say, cutting Raul’s food up even smaller, not wanting him to struggle any more than he had to tonight.
The table was quiet, save for Gabriella and Miguel smacking their food occasionally and Raul’s wheezy breaths.
By the time dinner was over, Gabriella was buzzing in her seat for cookies, and Raul was close to falling asleep in your arms.
You couldn’t ask for anything better.
With Raul sound asleep, Gabriella tucked in bed, and Miguel watching cable, you had a moment to yourself to think.
Did today’s small touches mean anything?
You stood in the bathroom moisturizing your skin after a hot bath. You said you were going to stop trying to fish for your husband’s attention, but if you were honest, today’s brief moment of connection did it for you. You couldn’t stop your thoughts once you were alone.
You decide to wear just a pair of panties and one of his old t-shirts to bed: a look that wasn’t trying too hard to get his attention, but you’re sure he’s going to notice it.
You sat on the bed and decided to read until he came into the room. You hope you were giving a sexy girlfriend vibe. Your skin was all smooth, you smelled good, and you knew you looked good.
When Miguel walks in, he pauses at the door to stare at you.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Come to bed,” you say.
Hook, line, and sinker.
Miguel shuffled over, eyeing you from head to toe. He looked delicious in his tank top, fabric stretched in the best possible ways.
He crawled on the bed next to you, “My band t-shirt?”
“Yeah! It’s comfy.”
He rubbed his hand up your naked thigh and your nerves started to sing. Any further up, and you might just wet your panties from his touch alone. You missed it so much.
He leaned over to kiss the juncture your neck and shoulder, your neck, your cheek, and then he stopped.
He just…stopped.
“Well, I gotta go in earlier tomorrow, so I’m going to sleep early. Is it ok if I turn this light off?
You felt your throat dry up, “Yeah, ok.”
He got under the sheets and switched his lamp off, leaving you in the dark with the faint light of your Kindle illuminating the room.
“Goodnight, honey,” he said with a yawn.
“Night.”
You turned your Kindle off and just sat in silence, his snores breaking the illusion of the dark consuming you.
You’re starting to think the worst.
You kept up a number of tactics subtle to glaringly obvious to appeal to your husband from changing up your perfume to what you would say was an amazing strip tease. Absolutely nothing is working.
He kept listing off excuses from the kids to his job to his parents to his brother, anything to avoid an intimate session with you. He even chose a night out with his boys over a night in bed with you which was jarring because he always made you feel good before going out to have a good time.
Did he not find you attractive anymore? You knew childbirth brought a lot of change, but you were still the same woman he met and fell in love with.
Did he not love you anymore? He often praised you for being a good mom and his pet names never stopped, but after that, his declaration of love for you had been very surface-level.
Is he cheating on you?
You really didn’t want to entertain that thought, but your heart couldn’t take any more pain than it already had.
So, one day when you say you’re taking the kids to the park, you drop them off at your mom’s place instead, hoping that if there was something going on, no little hearts would be broken once you unleash a beast in the house.
You pull back in the driveway to see that he’s still here, just as you suspected. You make your way quietly through the house, inching closer to you all’s bedroom.
Your heart almost stops when you hear the sound of Miguel’s voice, high and breathy in a way that should only reach your ears. You don’t think when you swing the door open, adrenaline pumping high.
Miguel yells, scared to death but alone.
“What are you doing?” you ask, voice frustrated.
“What am I doing? What are you doing?”
You look at the state he’s in, shirt up, waistband under his dick, and a mystery fabric in his hand.
“Were you getting off?” you say, hands dropping to your side. “Do you…do you not love me anymore?”
“What?”
“Do you. Not. Love me anymore. You avoid me every time I’ve tried to initiate something with you. We haven’t made love in so long. You keep making excuses to not be alone with me. You don’t even want to do normal things with me like send pictures or makeout until we’re out of breath. I’ve heard you in the bathroom during the night and now you’re here doing the same thing, without me, your wife.” Your eyes start to water after it all, feeling utter defeat.
“Cariño, this is a misunderstanding,” he pleads, voice distraught. “I do love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”
“Then why are you doing this to me?”
“Because,” he pauses, fixing his clothes to have some decency. “I…haven’t felt the greatest about my body.”
Your tears dry up as soon as the statement resonates, “What? What do you mean?”
Miguel sighs.
“Lately, it’s getting harder and harder for my old clothes to fit me anymore, I’m way too busy to hit the gym and more than anything, I think you deserve a man who’s a little less,” he gestures to himself, “let go.”
“Says who?”
He looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads, “Uh, everybody?”
“Well, who is everybody because I’d like to strangle them for letting you think that my husband isn’t good enough for me.” You walk deeper into the bedroom crowding Miguel’s space. “You’ll always be perfect for me. The vows I promised to you will not be broken over something so normal as weight gain.”
He looked like he could cry.
“Why did you hide you were feeling this way, baby?” you hold his head in your hands scratching at his scalp.
“It felt stupid and silly. You’ve been doing so well socially and physically, I wanted to see if I could fix it on my own before bringing you down with my problems.”
“Miguel O’Hara,” you say, gripping his jaw firmly. “I’m your wife. I might not be able to solve everything, but at the very least, you need to talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling, express yourself with words. Don’t hide.”
He wrapped his arms around you, sniffling, “I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
You pressed a long kiss into his scalp, rubbing his back.
“Oh my gosh,” you chuckled. “You were feeling so much internally, meanwhile I was practically screaming at you to fuck me. I thought you weren’t attracted to me anymore.”
So much for communication.
Miguel just burried his face in your chest while he groaned, “That’s the thing! You were driving me crazy with your tight little workout clothes and your lingerie. You looked so good, but I couldn’t get out of my own head. I’ve been…”
“You’ve been what?”
“I,” he got red in the face. “I’ve been using your underwear.”
You look down to Miguel’s crumbled up hand and it was in fact your underwear from the night you wore his band t-shirt, drenched in his essence.
Your stomach turned with excitement.
“So this is what you were doing in the bathroom in the middle of the night, hm? Using my panties? Giving them more action and attention than me?”
Miguel nodded, eyes hazy.
“Did it feel good?”
Another nod.
“I bet it did. I would wake up and hear you trying so hard to cum.”
You don’t know how, but his face got even warmer.
“You left your poor wife all alone, thinking about you on top of her until she came too.”
“I did?”
“You didn’t know?” you ask, playfully. “I was up all night imagining you walking out to see me. I wanted these arms to come and hold me.”
You squeeze at his arms on your sides.
“I wanted your weight on me. I wanted your chest against mine.I needed you so bad.”
You move to sit in his lap, knees on the side of him.
“You do such a great job of being a father. This beautiful change in your body is only proof of your hard work and dedication. It’s proof of love for your family.”
Miguel only melted in your hands, face a cloud of emotion.
“I love you, Miguel. I adore you. I yearn for you. I want you.”
With every declaration, came a kiss to his lips.
“Can I show you how much I love you?”
“Please.”
With that, you took his shirt off and made your way down his chest. You lingered around his chest, holding his pecs as you kissed them all over. You couldn’t stop your moans as your tongue felt across the hairy planes of his chest, sucking and pulling on his nipples. Miguel shudders as you pay special attention to them, sensitive after not being with you for so long.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” you breathe into his skin. You slide onto the floor and just press your face into his stomach.
“You like it that much?”
“Love it. You look so yummy walking around. You could be just standing there and I get so,” you cut yourself off, trying not to overwhelm him with just how much you were feeling. “You’re hot, baby.”
You kiss down his happy trail to reach his pants, his stomach twitching. You tugged a bit too hard on his pants, causing him to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” you say with a pout.
“I haven’t seen you like this since we won that couple’s retreat.”
“Not my fault. You were all sexy up there, beating the other husbands with your big brain. It was doing something to me.”
You finished pulling and you could almost cry with joy when Miguel’s cock springs next to your head. The sound you make when you see it also has Miguel wound tight.
Completely taken over by your neediness and desperation, you pull one of his thick legs over your shoulder, kissing and sucking on the skin while your fingertips dance around the entirety of his length.
The display of strength shocks Miguel who drips and whines at your actions.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. Do you want that?”
“Yes,” he whispers.
You cup him while you take his head in your mouth. It felt like pure bliss to have that familiar taste in your mouth. With the way you were humming, Miguel can tell that you were about to put him to sleep.
You took no time letting your tongue stretch to take more of him in. Your cheeks hollow as you go further, one hand kneading at the thigh you were holding and the other switching from fondling him to wrapping around the base of his length.
“God,” Miguel’s voice filled the room, the loudest it had been for the past few months. “I don’t think I’ll last that long.”
You let go of him and lick down the sides, “That’s because you’re too busy fucking other things instead of me.”
“’M sorry,” he whined as you went back down on him. “I-I was still thinking of you and, ngh, wanting you.”
“Mm hm,” your voice sent shocks down his spine as you didn’t let go. He moved his hips steadily, dick sliding in and out of your mouth and pudge occasionally pressing against your face.
The faster he went, the noisier the sounds got. He moved his hands to your head, thighs eerily close to tightening around your face. You couldn’t have it any better.
You dug your nails into his hips, throat contracting in order to take him in. Even with your jaw slacked, it’s been so long since you took him like this that you gagged more often than not. With every sound of your throat struggling, Miguel shouted your name, hands gripping tighter on your hair.
You could tell he was close by the way his thigh was tensing on your shoulder, so when he said the four words, you took him to the hilt, face completely pressed against him.
“Shit!” he felt like passing out as he released into your throat. You swallowed as much as you could, but you couldn’t take it all, saliva and cum esxaping down your chin to his balls.
He grunts when he pulls you off, chest moving sporadically.
You lick your lips and let out a satisfied sigh, “Finally.”
Miguel could only chuckle as he laid back on the bed. You crawled on top of him, sitting on his thighs with a smile. You rub your hands on the skin of stomach, slowly getting to his chest, “I’m like, really wet right now if you want some more painties to use.”
He growled as he pulled you closer.
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“Nope,” you say, popping the P. “I really want you to do it in front of me. Maybe send me a video for the nights you work overtime.”
He had the nerve to look embarrassed as he wrapped his arms around your back, “I might be able to arrange that.” He kissed your lips to distract you from speaking on it further.
After Miguel returned the favor with his head between your legs, the both of you were enjoying a quiet moment together before having to go pick up the kids.
“I can’t believe you thought I was cheating on you,” Miguel said as you were drawing circles on his chest.
“Miguel,” you say, lifting your head. “I pulled all the stops. I did things that I knew you loved: the t-shirts, going commando, the flirty pictures. I even brought whipped cream to the bedroom and you told me ‘I can’t eat that, it’ll blow up my stomach,’ when you were literally in the kitchen taking shots of it the night before.”
“Ok. So I see how you might have gotten to that ludicrous conclusion, but did you not notice how much I’ve been staring at you?”
You clicked your teeth, “Yeah, but what does that mean when you don’t act on it?”
Miguel twisted his lip, “Will you feel better if I told you that your work pictures turned me on too?”
You pinched him resulting in a yelp, “I’ll feel better right now if you give me a shower round.”
He pulled you in his arms as he got out of the bed, “Let’s go before your mom calls.”
You giggle and swing your feet on the way.
After your afternoon of praising his body, Miguel emerged as his previous confident self. This meant more days with him walking around shirtless, more quickies in the morning, makeouts that ended in pleasure, him smacking your ass, you smacking his ass back, and sex. Lots and lots of sex.
Right now, Raul was down for a nap and Gabriella was enjoying her tablet time.
You, however, were clawing at Miguel’s back like a cat as he pounded you into the mattress.
“Fuck!” you shouted, eyelids fluttering as Miguel’s cock dragged across your walls. “It feels so good.”
“Quiet, mi vida,” he whispered. “The kids are in their rooms.”
You were quick to cover your mouth, moans muffled. It really didn’t matter because the creaks of the bed were just as loud as you. One change in position and the headboard denting the walls could be added to it.
It was all too much.
First, he woke you up with kisses down your body and a promise to lighten your load around the house. Then, he got the kids up and prepared breakfast with the help of Raul. Later while you were out running errands, he sent you a coupon for a spa that just opened up down the street and warm message.
Now, he has you losing your mind with his hips slapping against yours, whispering praises in your ear.
“Miguel!”
“Hm? Talk to me.”
“I-I can’t-” your voice keeps getting louder unintentionally. He was so calm while he was reaching so deep inside. Your mind was hazy, wanting nothing more than him to keep going.
“You’re doing so good, Ma. You’re so good to me and the kids. You’re such a beautiful wife. Such a pretty Mama. Just wanna make you feel good.”
You felt yourself clench around him at his words, tears falling across your temples. He kissed your tears tenderly, strokes getting deeper.
“M-Miguel,” you say with your heart full. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby. So, so deeply,”
That was all it took for you to suck him in and scream into his shoulder, nails digging into his shoulder blades. His release was soon after, painting your walls with his lips pressed against your ear.
“Papá! You have to be more careful,” Gabriella fussed with her hands on her hips while Miguel was in the kitchen trying to make the family a snack. “You got hurt at work!”
Miguel paused and reached behind his back, fingers roaming over the healing scratches on his shoulder from his last session with you.
You covered your teeth with your lips as Miguel turned to look at you with his eyebrows raised.
“It’s ok, mija. Papá is tough!”
“But you gotta put something on it,” Gabriella said with a huff.
“Thank you for your concern, nena. I’ll get Mamá to take care of it, ok?” he ruffled her hair as he handed her a plate of bunny-shaped apple slices. “Now go sit with your brother and watch some TV.”
Miguel huffed as he walked up to the side of you with his arms crossed.
“What? You should put your shirt on!”
“That’s not what you said when you-”
“Hush and go get the aloe.”
Miguel snickered as he gave your lips a peck, “Yeah, yeah.”
Life was wonderfully sweet.
With that, my first request is done! As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵
──── 𝐢𝐧𝐤 & 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬 ˊˎ -
⊹₊ masterlist / rules
꒰ pairing: tattoo artist! Choso x Reader x piercer! Suguru ꒱
꒰ word count: 6k ꒱
꒰ c.w: MDNI, NSFW content, implied inexperienced/virgin reader, modern au, spitroasting, fem. receiving oral, fingering, i have a thing for the gloves and it shows, facials, backshots, reader and choso were school friends, suguru is an instigator, unprotected sex ꒱
ᯓ✩ 𝒑.𝒔: i really liked the idea of reader being innocent/ not being on the alt scene and suguru wanting to corrupt her while pulling choso into it hehe. it's taken me like two weeks to finish this but i genuinely feel i reached flow state with over 4k words written today, even if i was a little worried about the pacing at one point. also my first major jjk piece!
A bell chimes above you as you step into the parlour, hand around the strap of your bag that’s slung over your shoulder, chosen carefully to match your sundress. The weather has finally begun to warm up, and you’re almost a little too keen to get your spring wardrobe out already. But the sun has blessed you with a beautiful day and you’re taking full advantage of it. It’s a quiet morning, your appointment booked early to miss the rush of people that’ll build up in the town centre come noon, and you wouldn’t have it any other way: an empty car park and no line at your favourite coffee shop already appreciated little conveniences of your day.
You bite your lip as you approach the man leaning against the reception podium, clearly scrolling through his phone. He’s pale, with makeup smudged around his eyes, dark brown hair pulled back with twin ties, and a part of you wonders whether it’s makeup or a tattoo across his nose, as you can see the ink of a cyber-sigilism tattoo around his neck descending down, and a sleeve of a pattern that looks like ink in water tattooed in red up his left arm. He has various earrings stacked on his ears, snake bites, a nose bridge and a brow piercing too… yep, definitely someone you’d trust to pierce or tattoo you.
“Hey, um, I have an appointment booked to get my seconds done… at half eight?” You speak up politely. He quickly sets his phone down and stands upright, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth that seems to clash with what one would expect from a person with a style like his.
“Yeah, yeah, we’ve been expecting you. My colleague will be doing your piercing today.”
“Oh, okay, great.” You nod, a polite smile still on your lips. Your feet shift a little as he just looks at you like he’s expecting something… is there something you’ve forgotten? Did your appointment come with a confirmation code or something? Does he want to see ID-?
He speaks your name like there’s something you should be saying. Are you just an idiot? What have you missed? Did you-?!
“You don’t recognise me, do you?” He asks with an amused grin now. You squint at him as if it’ll help jog your memory. Someone from work? No, maybe further back? School?
“Oh my- Choso?” Your face lights up. With this new alternative style of his, you hardly recognised the quiet kid who you used to draw with at the back of maths class when the lessons were boring, occasionally exchanging scrap pieces of paper to see what masterpieces you could make together on the squared pages. It wasn’t until you looked past the tattoos and piercings that those sharp eyes and those high, pale cheeks finally rang a bell.
“Glad to see I’m not completely unrecognisable then.” He laughs softly, “I knew your name on the appointment reference. How have you been? I haven’t seen you since our final year.”
You beam a smile as you try to sum up the last few years of your life as concisely as you can, “And you had a complete makeover, I see.” You don’t miss the way his cheeks warm up slightly – it seems he’s still that same quiet kid deep down, even if his fashion sense is loud now.
“Yeah, I mean, I always liked alt fashion but I guess I was too worried about what people would think to try it out while we were still in school. I put all those lessons spent drawing to good use though and got an apprenticeship as a tattoo artist after I left uni, and opened this place with Suguru once we got the money together.” His blush deepens when the mention of his friend and partner reminds him that you did actually come here as a client and he’s instead been yapping away with you.
“Anyway, you’re here for seconds, right?” He asks as he leads you into the parlour that’s away from the tall windows of the front wall.
“Yeah! Honestly, I’ve always been so indecisive when it comes to my earrings that I just figured I’d… make room for more, y’know?” You say with a sheepish smile as it’s clear Choso likely had a very different reason for getting all his piercings whereas you just suffer the dilemma of pearl drops or heart studs every other morning.
“That’s as good a reason as any to start.” A new voice speaks up, rumbling and yet smooth like honey. You look over to the source and find a man who stands about as tall as Choso does. He has inky hair that’s half pulled back at his temples. You first notice his ear gages and the stacks of rings above them, then his lip rings and the studs at his brow. He has tattoos creeping down his shoulders and up his neck, seemingly depicting monsters: twisting serpentine bodies, mouths of sharp teeth, staring eyes, a visual cacophony swarmed together on his skin. Suguru beckons you over and pats the edge of the tattoo bed for you to sit down.
“Just your seconds today?” He asks as he pulls some black latex gloves over his hands before bringing his hands up on either side of your head as he begins to pinch the lobes of your ears.
“That’s right.” You reply.
“Can you take these out for me, hm?” He asks, gesturing to the star shaped opalite drops you’re wearing. You nod your head and reach up to unclasp the little hoops that they hang from. You slip them into your pocket. “Yeah, you’ve got the anatomy for it.” He says in that effortlessly drawling tone of his. He picks up a display board that’s holding all sorts of stud earrings while Choso leans on a counter nearby to watch, letting his friend take over.
“Which set would you like, pretty girl?” He asks as he leans against the edge of the bed you’re perched on. You bite your lip in thought as you look over the different options. Indecisiveness is what landed you here and he can quickly tell that you’re having a tough time making a choice. “How about these?” He points to a pair of white gems, “They’ll go with most things, and definitely match the ones you came in wearing.” He suggests in a way that shows you he has to help people make this same decision day in and out.
“Yeah, okay, I see what you mean.” You agree with a nod of your head. Choso shifts a little when Suguru sets the board down and picks up a cleaning solution and cotton pad to wipe down your lobes before beginning.
“Choso mentioned you were childhood sweethearts.” He speaks up, making conversation as he works – said man immediately stands up straighter, cheeks warm. He had not said that! Suguru’s just trying to embarrass him in front of you!
“Um… we knew each other, yeah…” You reply, now wondering if Choso had liked you back then and Suguru has assumed you knew at the time, “Honestly, I shouldn’t really be surprised he became a tattoo artist, he was always good at drawing when we were kids.” Suguru nods along as you talk. He uses a pen to mark above and out from the piercings you already have, hand coming up under your chin to turn your head this way and that as he makes sure that he’s marked them evenly.
“Yeah, he was telling me about how sweet you were to him back in the day. He was pretty awkward, huh?” He asks and throws a smirk Choso’s way. The tattoo artist scowls in his direction, seeing clearly what his friend is doing.
“No, no, not awkward.” You say, feeling a little bad for your old friend who’s now very clearly embarrassed, “He was always kind, just quiet. Never one of those boys who acts mean to impress his friends, y’know?” Suguru sends Choso a grin that seems to communicate a conversation that you weren’t here for, and the tattoo artist turns his head away to try and hide how his blush is spreading to his ears. He even subtly presses the backs of his fingers to his cheek as though to check the temperature of it.
Suguru’s marked your ears with a pen now and he plucks up a little handheld mirror from the nearby counter for you to see. “How does that look?” He asks as he watches you tilt your head left and right, up and down, ascertaining that they’re symmetrical.
“Looks good.” You nod your head. He opens a draw and takes out a plastic packet containing the needle.
“How are you with pain, pretty girl?” Once again, he uses that nickname, and you assume it’s something he uses for all ladies your age who come into his parlour.
“Uh… I’d say I’m alright.” Your eyes flicker over to Choso who seems to have calmed down greatly after being teased by his friend a few moments ago. A nervous laugh spills past your lips, “But now that I’m thinking about it, I’m getting a little scared.” A smile pulls at Suguru’s lips as he peels open the wrapping on the hollow needle.
“Would you feel a little better if you laid down?” He hums. Nodding your head, you turn your body to lay down on the bed instead of perching on the edge of it. “Choso, come hold our friend’s hand.” He calls him over with a tilt of his head. Choso pushes himself off the counter he’s leaning against and moves to your side instead, offering his hand should you wish to take it.
You mouth a ‘thank you’ and squeeze his fingers. He bites at his lip, one of the rings being pulled into his mouth, and reaches forward with his other hand to tuck your hair behind your ears. Meanwhile, Suguru pinches your earlobe with a clamp before taking out the needle. “Do you want me to count down?”
“No.” You reply, hoping to just get it over with quickly instead of making yourself more afraid than you ought to be.
“Alright.” Suguru agrees. The dread of the piercing gnaws inside your chest and you squeeze your eyes tightly shut, near crushing Choso’s poor fingers in your hold. You can’t help the muffled whimper that leaves your lips when you feel the needle push through your ear, tears bubbling in the corners of your eyes. “What a brave girl; you’re doing great, baby.” Suguru drawls out in that tone of his that just seems to exude sin. He pushes the earring into the needle and pulls it the rest of the way through your ear, removing the needle to slip on the back of the earring. You become aware of how tightly you’re holding Choso’s hand and lax your grip almost to the point of letting go.
“How does it feel?” Choso asks, leaning over you a little to get a look. He’s seen Suguru do this plenty of times, sure, but this is you and so the process has become interesting all over again.
“It doesn’t hurt… it’s just really hot.” You answer, beginning to feel a bit silly for psyching yourself out over what was essentially no different to a pinch.
“That’s normal.” Suguru reassures you, “Ready for the next round?” He asks, needle pinched between his latex-covered fingers once more. You nod yes and turn your head so he has better access to your ear. You find your fingers tangling with Choso’s once again, even though you now know not to expect as much pain as you’d initially anticipated. Once again, he clamps your ear and you grit your teeth, cheeks warm from the slight embarrassment of the tears that spill down your temples. “All done, pretty girl.” Suguru flashes a sultry grin down at you. Meanwhile, Choso hands you a tissue for your tears. A part of him wishes to reach forwards and gently swipe them away with his thumb, but he doesn’t dare smudge your pretty makeup or cross any sort of boundary. I
“Okay… that wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.” You say with a little sniffle when Suguru holds up the mirror for you again. Your ears feel extremely hot, but don’t necessarily hurt.
“See? Maybe I can convince you to get a few more while you’re here.” He drawls out as you sit up, his dark eyes briefly flickering to Choso before landing on you once again, “Maybe a naval piercing?” His teeth tug slightly at his bottom lip as he watches your pretty self turn your head this way and that to admire your new earrings.
“Naval? Like a belly piercing?” You ask. He nods as he messes with his gloves, drawing your attention to how the black latex hugs his hands.
“They’re pretty popular with girls your age. Maybe nipple piercings? They seem even more popular this year.” You can’t help the way your eyes widen slightly at the mental image he’s planted in your head: you bearing your tits to him as he carefully pierces them for you. Is this regular talk for a guy in his line of work? Maybe he’s indifferent to it by now? You consider that there’s a chance he’s flirting with you, but you’ve never been the best at recognising when someone’s interested. Though, can you really pass up the chance if a guy this fine is hitting on you?
“Actually, those could be pretty cute…” You mumble to yourself, feigning interest for the sake of finding out if he’s really trying to flirt with you, or if he’s just trying to get more money out of you today.
“Wait, really?” Choso pipes up in surprise: you’ve walked in with no tattoos, no alternative piercings, coming in for just your seconds due only to your indecisiveness with your vast earring collection, and now you’re talking about getting your tits pierced today? It just seems so out of character. But then again it’s been so many years since he’s really known you…
“I can check if you’ve got the anatomy for it, if you’d like?” Suguru proposes like it’s nothing, “Consult free of charge, of course.”
Free? Oh shit, maybe he really is interested?
“Mmph, yeah, okay then. At least I can know if I’m actually able to get them or not before I start properly considering it.” You agree, hands tucked into your lap upon the skirt of your pretty sundress.
“I’ll give you some privacy-” Choso says as he takes a step towards the door, swallowing thickly. He’s the one that’s known you since adolescence, so why is Suguru the one getting to see your tits? Before he can even process that he’s getting jealous when he really has no right to, he’s interrupted.
“No, no, stay.” Suguru insists, making your heart flutter, “You were a good support for her, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, would you, pretty girl?”
Oh fuck.
You consider that maybe you’re being the pervert here, that you’re fantasising about seducing these two hot men with your body, when they’re really only interested in doing their job. But at this point, what are the realistic odds of that? Are you a pervert or is Suguru an instigator?
“Yeah, th-thats fine…” You nod your head, internally cringing when you trip over your words a little. With trembling fingertips, you reach up and slide the straps of your dress off your shoulders until they get caught in your elbows. A part of you is glad that you chose a pretty bra to match your dress today, even if you hadn’t intended for anyone to see it: it’s a pretty pink with lace over the cups in patterns of flowers and butterflies, little rhinestones dotted about to make it shimmer with every breath you take. Suguru can’t help but bite his lip at how adorable you look in the piece when he notices the little heart charm that hangs between the gap in the wiring.
You further feel like you’re just embarrassing yourself when you try to reach back to unclasp the bra, but find your arms limited by the dress straps you haven’t fully slid off… Just as your cheeks start to feel as hot as your freshly pierced ears, Suguru takes pity on you and reaches behind you to snap the clasp, letting your bra fall down and your pretty tits spill out.
Choso’s lips are parted in awe at the sight of you while Suguru lets out a low hum of approval.
“Let’s get a look at these…” He crouches down so his head is better level with your breasts and you find it hard to keep your eyes on him, instead fixing them on the display of tattoo pictures on the far wall. This technique doesn’t last very long though as he soon rolls your nipples between latex-covered fingers and thumbs, gently tugging at them to watch how quickly they stiffen with the slightest attention.
“Fuck-” You hear Choso whisper faintly under his breath, making Suguru’s grin widen.
“So responsive… yeah, you’d love having these pierced, pretty girl – it’d make them more sensitive.” He murmurs with a tone as sensual as velvet, “They always get so worked up this easily?” He asks with another intentionally timed tug that makes you let out a little whimper when you open your mouth to respond.
“I guess so, yeah…” He notes the way your breathing has picked up and his eyes flick between you and Choso who’s already blushing up to his ears.
“Need to tease them a bit to check if you’re able to get some pretty jewellery in these.” He blows softly on your nipple to watch the way it makes you squirm when his warm breath fans over your skin. “Choso… why don’t you give me a hand?”
“M-me?” He brings a hand to his broad chest as if to make sure that he heard his friend right and it wasn’t just his wishful thinking of him wanting to get in on this.
“Yes, you. C’mere-” He beckons the tattoo artist closer. When Choso joins Suguru before you, you can’t help but find it cute how pink his cheeks are, near matching the eyeshadow smudged around those dark eyes of his. “Just copy me, yeah?” He says as he leans in to graze his lips over the curve of your breast before pressing a kiss to your stiffened bud. Choso shyly follows his lead, but holds back and continues to gently kiss across your soft mound while Suguru wraps his lips around your peak and sucks harshly. You can feel the warm metal of their lip rings with each press of their lips, but what catches your attention most is the hard ball of Suguru’s tongue bar massaging over your sensitive nipple, teasing you with the fantasy of what it could feel like when he laps against other parts of your inexperienced body.
When Choso finally works up the courage to suck your nipple into his mouth, you feel almost dizzy as you arch into the pair of them, spine curving sweetly as you jut your bust encouragingly towards their greedy mouths.
When you woke up this morning, you never imagined you’d have a pair of hot guys giving you this sort of attention just a few hours later!
Suguru’s gloved hands bunch up the skirt of your dress more until he can press his thumb against your navel and drag down until it’s gently nudging against your clit over the baby pink cotton of your panties.
“So many places to give you some pretty jewellery~” He croons, making you whine. You lean back further on the tattoo bed, propping yourself up on your elbows as you look down at where Suguru’s gaze is fixed to the darker pink spot on your panties where you’ve already started to soak through them. Choso whines when you leaning back brings your tit away from his mouth though, and he decides to follow you, looking up at you through thick lashes with needy puppy eyes. He brings a hand up to appreciatively grope your other breast, eyes cracking open slightly to watch the way it gives so easily, flesh spilling between his fingers.
Subconsciously, your thighs fall wider apart when Suguru tucks your little panties aside and exposes your heated slit to the cool air of the room.
“Just look at this~” He murmurs before flicking his gloved hands rapidly over your sticky clit, making you yelp at the intensity of the sudden stimulation, “Hear how wet you are, pretty girl? Those tits really are so sensitive… we’ll definitely have to put some pretty jewellery through them, yeah?”
Choso bites his lip once his mouth leaves your nipple with a lewd pop. His eyes are glazed as he looks down at where your buds are all puffy from the attention they’ve been given – he can’t begin to imagine how cute they’d look with some bars through them! Knowing your pussy is now exposed, he can’t help but steal a glance down at you, so pretty and already a little puffy with arousal.
“You ever eaten a girl out before, Choso?” Suguru asks with a slight raise of his brow. Choso quickly shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek. Is he embarrassed about being inexperienced? You find it both cute and reassuring as you’re not experienced either. “You wanna try it?” The tattoo artist is on his knees between your thighs before another word can be said, letting out a shaky sigh of awe at seeing the way your cunt glistens, already leaking down from your hole.
A soft noise leaves your throat when you feel the latex of Suguru’s gloves peel your lips apart with index and middle finger.
“It’s pretty easy to make a girl sensitive here if you wanna just be messy and put your tongue in her.” He explains as though Choso were in an apprenticeship all over again. Your head tips back slightly at how hot it feels to be the demonstration he uses to teach his friend. “But it’s good to tease her a little too – press some kisses around it, hell make out with it if you want to. But if you want it to really go somewhere and make her cum-” You squeak softly when he taps a fingertip twice against your clit, “- you’re gonna wanna pay extra attention here.”
Your hand claps over your mouth when Suguru lewdly demonstrates this technique by lapping against the little bud intently, letting the ball of his tongue bar press against your most sensitive area. You don’t even notice how you’ve tried to close your thighs around their heads until he uses his free hand to grab the limb and firmly hold it spread apart.
“See?”
“Yeah…” Choso replies breathlessly. Not even waiting for the piercer to move aside, he leans in and laps at your twitching pearl, letting his tongue glide right against Suguru’s. He pauses briefly to let out a little pant against your needy slit, unable to believe just how addictive your flavour is from the slightest taste. You’re acutely aware of his snake bites brushing against your folds with each lap of his tongue. He’s already confessed his inexperience, but you feel his eagerness certainly makes up for it – either that or you’re just on cloud nine already from having your pussy eaten out for the first time.
Suguru pushes two fingers into your saccharine cunt and you hear the clatter of one of your heels dropping to the floor when it makes your thigh lift higher and your toes curl up tightly.
“So tight, pretty girl… this sweet little pussy not getting enough love?” He asks filthily as he spreads his fingers in a scissoring motion, wanting to get you stretched out and ready as soon as possible. He’s a little more clear-minded than you and Choso and is aware that they do have more appointments booked today. The thought of being interrupted before seeing you pumped full of cum causes a pang in his chest in an emotion that’s not quite despair or pity.
You’re already whimpering from the onslaught of Suguru’s fingers curling up against your spongy sweet spot while Choso eagerly laps at your clit like a puppy, occasionally sucking at the little pearl now and then to feel the way it makes you buck your hips towards his mouth with need. You can feel the heat of Suguru’s eyes looking down at you, the yearning of Choso’s gazing up at you.
“Look how messy… you’ve been needing this a while, huh?” Suguru teases you as he pulls his fingers out and holds them up so you can see your wetness making his glove shine, stretching between his spread fingers like webs. Choso pauses his greedy eating to admire the evidence of just how turned on you are, even if the substance on his friend’s hand is mixed with his saliva where he’s been drooling right onto your puffy slit.
“Tastes so good…” He whines, gaining Suguru’s attention. The piercer smirks and taps those latex fingers against the tattoo artist’s lips. Choso’s breath catches in surprise before he sucks your sweetness from his friend’s digits. You can’t tear your eyes from the heated sight, the hint that perhaps there’s something more going on here between them, or that perhaps you’ve just worked them up this much. Choso’s dark eyes are full with a soft and molten arousal that fills you with an argue to sit on his face and listen to his muffled little whines as you grind on his tongue and pull his hair-
“You protected, pretty girl?” Suguru asks, dissolving the image of your fantasy that already has your little hole fluttering around nothing. You shake your head as he withdraws his hand from Choso’s mouth and instead sets a hand atop his head.
“ ‘s dangerous…” He mumbles but his gaze is no less heated as he glances between the pair of you. “Lay back.” He fixes his gaze on his still-kneeling friend, “Choso, you go first.”
You lay back against the tattoo bed, having to prop yourself up on your elbows once more so that your head doesn’t hang over the other end. Choso eagerly begins unbuckling his belt, fumbling a little. His baggy pants quickly fall down from the sheer weight of all the fabric, and your eyes widen at the size of the bulge tenting his black boxers. Suguru lets out a whistle from behind you, alerting you of how he’s now moved around to the other side of the bed.
A guy as shy as Choso should not be packing such a big dick! You tell yourself that he’s got to be 7.5 or 8 inches at most, even though a more honest part of you can tell he’s probably closer to 9. He pushes the elastic waistband down just enough to free his cock and balls, crowned by a trimmed thicket of hair with a happy trail extending up to his navel. He has more of those red ink-like tattoos arching over his hips, accentuating the defined lines of his Adonis’ belt. Basically, everything points to his cock, as if it weren’t already a commanding presence of its own.
“You’ve been packing all that this whole time?” Suguru raises a brow as his hands idly play with your hair from behind, tucking it behind your pierced ears before letting his fingertips featherly glide down either side of your neck, giving you shivers. “Guys your size are usually a little more… confident, y’know?” He teases the artist who blushes as his hands settle gently on your hips.
“I mean, it’s above average, yeah- but… I don’t know…” He mumbles, and – for a moment – all you can see is that sweet, shy boy who used to actually make your maths classes enjoyable with your little shared chats and doodles.
“I’m only teasing. You’re going to love it, aren’t you, babygirl?” Suguru leans over you to give you an upside-down view of his handsome face, hair falling over his shoulders. You nod your head, your nervousness outbalanced by your anticipation. Yeah, your heart was beating faster than a bunny’s, but is this not a fantasy come to life?! How could you possibly back out?!
Choso wraps a fist around his fat length to stroke it a few times, generous amounts of pre beading at his tip before he starts to nudge against your soft cunt, gliding the underside through your folds on instinct just to feel your slick coat his length, to make you feel the throb of his veins. Suguru, meanwhile, cups your jaw from behind with both hands, assuring you watch every second of what’s about to happen to you, so that this is a memory that’ll burn in your mind and replay each time you catch a glimpse of your earrings in the mirror.
Choso draws in a gasp and lets out a pitchy whimper when he presses his tip insistently against your yielding cunt, cheeks flushed and hands shaking as they curl around the curves of your hips.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so warm-” His voice breaks as he closes his eyes against the bliss of your walls sucking him in. Suguru observes the pinch of your brow and can tell that you’re trying to adjust to Choso’s unanticipated size, and so he reaches forward with one hand to toy with your nipple, giving you some more stimulation to focus on so that it’s easier to drown out any discomfort and feel only pleasure.
“Rub her clit; slow, gentle, don’t overdo it.” The piercer’s advice barely reaches Choso’s ears before he drags a thumb over to your little bud and gently presses against it, alternating the pressure so that he can give you pleasure without overstimulating you.
Once he can tell you’re feeling better, Suguru’s palm cups the underside of your chin to tilt your head back, encouraging you to lax your elbows and lay back completely. Once you’re laid back with your head tipping off the edge of the bed, whining softly at how well Choso’s stretching you out, rubbing against all your sweetest spots, Suguru unbuttons his jeans and tugs out his thick cock. Your eyes widen at the sight of his prince Albert piercing. You immediately begin to salivate, wanting to swirl your tongue around it to see how it’ll feel, how he’ll react. He grins as he taps the swollen tip against your pouty lips, delighting in seeing your pretty face shadowed by his hard cock.
“So eager for it-” He grunts out as he pushes into your mouth. As expected, your tongue swirls curiously around his piercing as the tip pushes against it, filling your mouth when you hollow your cheeks around it as though you’re a seasoned slut and not some inexperienced little thing – he’ll ask where you learned that later.
Choso’s already letting out little whimpers with each panted breath of his, bottom lip caught between his teeth while he’s mesmerised by the bounce of your plush tits each time he thrusts into you, unable to resist reaching up and cupping them when he pushes his cock into you. He’s mindful of what Suguru said earlier about his size and so he’s holding back on bottoming out into you, more than satisfied with feeling his sensitive tip kiss against your cervix, feeling how it squishes against him with each pass, firm and soft all at once, so yielding to how he’s stuffing you full. He doesn’t know how it feels to get a blowjob like what you’re giving his friend right now, but he can only imagine the pout of your lips must feel similar to how your deepest parts seem to be sucking him in, like you want to milk him.
He lets out a guttural noise from his throat while you gag prettily on Suguru’s pierced dick, the thought that your body’s trying to milk him spurring him towards climax. Suguru’s of the most sound mind between the three of you right now though and recalls you saying you’re not protected.
“Let’s swap.” He says as he pulls out of your mouth, groaning at how your tongue sticks out to kitten lick his cock, chasing after him as you crane your head upwards. He rewards your enthusiasm with a thumb stroking against your temple.
Choso’s sure it takes all of his willpower to pull out of you, watching your pretty cunt clench around air like it’s begging for him to fill you again. He feels almost cruel for depriving your sweet hole from the stretch of his cock. Suguru holds your shoulder with one hand and cups your ass with another to pivot you on your back so that you’re now facing him and Choso is the one leaning over you.
“Turn over, babygirl.” He says with a pat to your thigh and you obediently turn over onto your tummy, tilting your head back all the way to look up at Choso who cradles your cheeks in his hands like you’re the most delicate thing in the world. His lashes are wet with pleasure already.
A yelp leaves your drool-covered lips when Suguru brings his gloved hand down on your ass once before lifting your knee onto the tattoo bed to spread you open more. He tuts playfully: “Tucked these panties aside and you’ve still managed to soak them, messy thing.” He lets the weight of his cock rest against the cleft of your ass as he appreciates the heart-shape of your rump. How can you possibly be this cute while getting spit roasted? It shouldn’t be allowed. He grabs his cock from the base and guides it into you, your slick cunt easily accommodating him after being stretched out by Choso already.
Your back arches, pushing your ass against Suguru’s hips and accentuating the recoil of your soft flesh each time he bottoms out into you. This also helps you to lean forwards towards Choso so that you can suckle sweetly at his sensitive tip, tasting yourself on his flushed skin. His fingers press more into the sides of your head as he tries to make sure his knees don’t buckle beneath his weight. You’re propping your upper half up on your elbows, squishing your pretty tits between them as you use one hand to stroke his cock, giving him little squeezes the further up you go all while your tongue swirls sinfully around his slit.
“ ‘s too good, sweetheart!” His voice breaks, tears spilling down his cheeks and carving pale rivers through his eyeshadow, “ ‘m g’na cum for you- gonna cum!” He babbles out, tone a desperate whimper, “You’re too pretty like this, too fucking cute, I-” A filthy thought crosses your mind and you remove your lips from the head as you open your mouth, tongue out, pretty moans pouring out from the way Suguru’s fucking you with a steady but stern pace. Your fist speeds up along his cock and your lashes flutter closed as you feel the first hot ribbons splash against your cheeks and tongue, gliding down the curve of your nose.
Suguru’s hand grabs meanly at your ass as your pussy locks down around him, so turned on by making Choso cum on your face that it’s brought you to orgasm too.
His head tips back, hands pulling your hips towards his with each pass as he does his best to hold off his orgasm so he can fuck you through yours. But he’s just a man and can only last so long until he’s pulling out and squeezing your asscheeks together to push his cock between them, shooting cum across your back and onto your dress that’s been bunched around your waist this whole time.
Choso can’t bear to stand anymore and is kneeling on the floor in front of you already, kissing you messily and lapping up his cum from your pretty face, feeding it to you lewdly with his tongue. Suguru catches his breath and admires the mess they’ve made of you before snapping off his gloves and tossing them aside. He pats your ass twice in silent praise.
“I’ll book you in for next week then, yeah?”
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ೀ ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ. if you wanna come, give my brother some!
synopsis: the one where you’re dying to go to a frat party. you don’t want to go alone, and your best friend itadori promises to take you on one condition: you talk to his older brother. just talk, nothing crazy. of course, you never do anything half-assed.
content: MDNI. frat!choso kamo x reader, top reader x sub choso, college au, modern au, drinking, edible usage, vaping, alcohol, hookup, mutual attraction, explicit smut, slight age gap (college, reader is a freshman and choso is a senior), oral sex (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, creampie, dry humping, choso cums too soon, reader tops, teasing, crack humor, overwatch references (i have an addiction)
wc: 4.6k
a/n: art by thatsallitchief! y'all when i tell you i had so much work to do after spring break but mama got it done and is feeding y'all. except i feel like this one wound up being kind of rushed... also can you tell i've never been to a frat. they lowkey scare me which is why i would want my close personal bestie yuji itadori to accompany me to one!! anyways. i wrote most of this while half asleep soooooo sorry if there's any mistakes i missed while proofreading <333 i feel like i treat a/ns like diary entries lmfao
“pleaaaasee, itadori,” you pouted and rested your head on his shoulder, giving him puppy eyes. “please? kappa is throwing a huge one this weekend.”
itadori, who had his laptop open to his lecture notes but was really buried in his instagram reels, waved a hand. “kappa sucks anyways. weird ass frat.”
you raised a brow. “and you would know? you never go to frats, you spent every friday night playing fortnite or whatever…” you retorted, crossing your arms and slouching back in your chair. itadori scoffed in response. “modern warfare. and for your information, not every friday! sometimes i go to sig tau.”
“sig tau?”
“yeah. my older brother is a member.”
you shot up in your seat. “you have an older brother?” your jaw dropped, and itadori finally looked up from his phone. “yeah. look, dude. tung tung sahur.” he grinned, showing you his phone. you didn’t pay any attention to the brainrot he was showing you, more focused on the pressing matter at hand.
“itadori. you have an older brother who’s in a frat and you haven’t taken me yet?”
he shrugged. “i didn’t think you’d wanna go. buuuut i guess i can bring you with this weekend… on one condition.”
“anything.”
itadori grinned like how he did when he was about to steal one of your ramen cups. “talk to my brother.”
your raised brow and your smile dropped. a set up? “hell no.”
“please? i think you’ll really like him. he’s on the rugby team, he’s really tall—“
“nope. i told you, after that situationship from welcome week, men are off limits for me,” you held up a hand, shaking your head. itadori scoffed. “i wouldn’t really call fushiguro a situationship, more like a deluluship—“
“regardless! men are a no-no.”
itadori gave you a knowing look. “okay then. no frat. you can go to kappa on your own.”
you frowned at the thought of sticky floors, cheap alcohol, and being by yourself with no other friends. kugisaki and maki had no interest in coming with you to a frat. “… fine. what’s his instagram?” you gave in with a sigh.
itadori’s thumbs flew across his screen before he pulled up the page: a blank. user chosokamo. not even a profile picture.
“wow. he’s handsome,” you muttered sarcastically.
“he’s shy.”
“a shy frat guy on the rugby team? i don’t buy it.”
“you’ll see,” itadori grinned. “he’s nice. really, he’s quiet, but he’s a sweet guy. you’ll love him.”
“do i have to sleep with him or something?”
“i doubt you’ll get that far.”
you weren’t one to turn down a challenge. come friday night, you’d stalked down all of choso’s profiles. instagram, twitter, snapchat (practically nonexistent snap score), tiktok, spotify, linkedin, battle.net account. reposts of cat videos, playlists with rap and 2000s emo rock music for workouts, worked at a… plant nursery as a part time job? majored in biology with a focus in hematology. mained mizuki in overwatch.
you looked yourself over in the mirror while itadori waited outside. micro shorts, a cute halter top, some layered jewelry, shitty sneakers (in case of spills), and dolly makeup. good enough.
“come onnnnn slut!” itadori groaned outside your door. you swung it open and glared at him. “give me the goods.”
itadori rolled his eyes and slammed a red, sugarcoated gummy and pink vape in your hand. “can’t believe i’m your plug and your ride to a frat. for free.”
you scoffed, chewing the gummy. “hey, i gave you answers to the midterm, didn’t i? consider this payment. also, strawberry cloud dream?” you raised a brow at the pink device.
“it matches my hair!”
the sigma tau house was three blocks from campus and you could hear it before you saw it. it was brick and not exactly a small house, led lights in each window. red cups littered the lawn and a few guys out front were doing something that looked like it had started as a drinking game but had wound up being something entirely different.
you took a long drag of the strawberry cloud and ghosted it before braving a step inside. sticky floors, bass that vibrated your inner ear, faces you couldn’t really make out due to the low lighting.
you hadn’t even realized itadori left your side when he came back to you bearing gifts: a red solo cup. “sprite and svedka,” he grinned proudly.
you took a hesitant sip and grimaced. “holy shit. dude, this is svedka and like… a splash of sprite.”
itadori laughed and slung his arm around your shoulder. “welcome to your first frat party. okay, so, choso is in the kitchen—“
“the kitchen?”
“yeah, he doesn’t like the main room. actually, he doesn’t like coming out of his room…”
your brow furrowed. this guy didn’t sound like he belonged to a frat. then again, he studied blood. you let yuji lead you to the kitchen, shuffling past a girl who was throwing up into the trash can and right towards—
holy shit.
definitely over six feet worth of pure muscle, not too bulked but just beefy enough, eye bags, a scar on his nose bridge? no matter. dark hair that reached just below his ears, a wearing a band top and jeans. the hand holding his phone was both veiny and boney, his knuckles highlights with ridges of veins that ran down to his forearms. definitely your type. fushiguro who?
“yo, bro!” itadori smiled and waved, guiding you towards him. the man looked up, glanced at you, then looked back to his brother. “hey, yuji.”
you stood awkwardly at itadori’s side, mouth watering as you watched his older brother converse with him. his jaw was nice and defined, his lips pouted just the slightest bit…
“so this is my friend…” he finally introduced you. “the girl from my freshman year seminar i told you about? and this is my brother choso kamo, he’s a senior… right! so, um, i’m gonna go grab another drink—“
“wait, itadori!” you hissed, but he was gone in a flash. you whipped back to face his older brother, laughing nervously. “hi…”
“… hi.”
you stood in awkward silence for a moment. “so… kamo? not itadori?” you blurted out the ice breaker, and immediately regretted it. who asked a stranger about the specifics of their last name? was it the alcohol, or your nerves, or both?
“it’s… a long story…” choso looked away.
“right…” you dropped your gaze to the ground, then back up at him. you weren’t giving up. “so… itadori tells me you study biology? hematology?” a lie, obviously you’d figured out from stalking his linkedin. choso blinked up at you. “… yeah. he told you that?”
you nodded and lied through your teeth. “yeah. pretty… specific. why blood?”
choso shrugged and took a sip of whatever was in his cup. “my family has a history of blood disorders…” he murmured. “i wanted to understand it, so… i studied it.”
“oh,” you nodded slowly. it wasn’t the answer you’d expected. to be honest, you didn’t know what to expect with this guy. his head tilted up and you could make out the faintest tint of pink of his ears. “sorry. not good party conversation, huh?”
you shrugged. “i wouldn’t know. this is my first frat.”
his eyes widened. “your first— and you’re talking with me?” he scoffed. “you should go out and have fun with yuji.”
“i like talking with you,” you blurted out thanks to the 99% svedka drink in your cup. you realized how stupid you'd sounded. maybe three sentences exchanged with this guy and you liked talking with him?
he swallowed thickly. “you do…?” he mumbled, then straightened up when you nodded. “… what do you study?”
you could’ve easily ended the conversation fifteen, twenty minutes ago. once you got to the forty minute mark and had flown through three different topics of conversation with choso, you’d forgotten about your deal with itadori.
“so… mizuki?” you tilted your head. choso was smiling just the slightest bit by now. “yeah. used to main reinhardt, but his shield got nerfed.”
“so you abandoned him for support?” you laughed softly. “hey, at least you could be my d.va’s pocket healer now.”
choso raised a brow. “you play d.va? not surprised.”
you scoffed. “what’s that supposed to mean?” choso shrugged, not answering the question. “you play other video games?” he asked. you shrugged. “usually cod or fortnite with itadori. you?”
“… league of legends. on occasion.”
“ew.”
“hey!”
you busted out laughing, holding his arm for balance. you were about to make another snarky comment about his taste in video games when a head of pink hair swayed up to you guys.
“heyyyy guyssss…” he laughed and threw his arms around the both of you, effectively squishing you against choso’s firm chest. “having fun? need refills? you want—“
“yuji. go away,” choso playfully shoved his brother, earning a wide grin from your friend. “right right, of course, if you guys need anything… more drinks, condoms—“
“yuji!”
you laughed and rested your hand on choso’s chest, not having moved from where you’d been pressed against him. he tilted his head down to look at you. “sorry about him.”
“don’t apologize for him,” you smiled. “he’s an idiot, but i'm getting used to it.”
“yeah? how’s that going?” choso smirked, earning another small laugh from you. “not well.”
choso hummed. “try living with him for 19 years.”
“huh?” you tilted your head. the music had been turned up impossibly louder. choso leaned in and spoke a little louder in your ear. “i said, try living with him for 19 years.”
you laughed softly, the alcohol making you bubbly and flirty. “it’s loud in here.”
“it is,” he agreed, setting his cup down. “you wanna go up to my room?” he blurted out, then stilled. “i mean… just ‘cause it’s quieter. and i have my xbox so we can play games. not ‘cause… i mean— unless you’d—“
you suddenly felt sobered up. this had just been a stupid challenge, you remembered, but now it was real. “choso,” you cut him off, then nodded with a small smile. “lead the way.”
on your way up the stairs, led by choso holding your hand. you glanced down at the party to find itadori’s jaw dropped as he stared up at you, then he gave you a thumbs up and a big smile. you pretended you didn’t see him.
choso’s hand immediately left yours as soon as you were in his room. assuming he was undressing or tidying up his bed or something, you looked around his room. my chemical romance and deftones posters, textbooks, a bonsai tree.
then you heard the xbox turning on. you whipped around to find him sitting in his beanbag, thumbing the controller and looking up at you expectantly.
oh my god. he was actually serious about playing video games.
you glanced at him, then the tv. “you’re… serious?”
he furrowed his brow. “why wouldn’t i be?”
you pushed aside the ache between your thighs and settled next to him in his beanbag, noticing how he tensed up a little. you took the second controller and resigned yourself to the fact that instead of getting laid tonight, you’d be queuing up in ranked.
you were terrible at overwatch on console. you were used to pc and were still getting used to the controls. “you just walked into the enemy team,” choso muttered.
“excuse me. i’m tanking.”
“your kd is tanking, you mean.”
you frowned. “i’m used to pc, okay?”
“here,” he actually smiled, scooting closer behind you, wrapping his arms around yours and placing his hands over yours. “okay, left stick moves,” he mumbled in your ear. “right stick is for camera. this button shoots. this one’s your ult. you good?”
you glanced up at him, your faces inches away from each other. “yeah…” you murmured, looking back to the screen and playing better now that you knew the controls. “like this?”
“yeah, just like that… good.”
your thighs squeezed together, and you blushed as you realized he was close enough to probably feel it. you glanced back up at him, hearing your character die on the screen as you lost focus. choso didn’t comment, only staring down at you. he was close, close enough that you could make out the little scar on the bridge of his nose, the slight furrow of his brow, the way his lips had parted just a bit.
without thinking, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. both controllers clattered to the floor.
choso was quick and eager, returning the kiss and grabbing your waist. his tongue slipped into your mouth, rubbing against yours as he grunted with effort. you felt his cock straining against his jeans as he almost rutted against your thigh.
he caught himself, though, and pulled away panting softly, his lips glossed with your saliva. “s-sorry, that was—“
you shut him up with another kiss, pulling him close and swinging your leg over so you were straddling his lap. he groaned and pulled you closer, grinding up into you. you rolled your hips in response, and a high pitched noise bubbled up from his throat.
you pulled away to find him beet red with wide eyes. “that wasn’t—“
“you whimpered.”
his face scrunched up a bit. "what? no, i didn't-"
his protest was cut off as you rolled your hips again, an undeniable, broken, high pitched noise spilled from his lips. his fingers dug into your waist, trying to hold you still as he looked away, his cheeks flushed.
"oh my god," you half breathed out, half laughed out. "you're serious."
"stop." his voice held no conviction, his body betraying him as you felt his hips bucking up and rubbing up against you just the slightest bit.
you smirked and lifted your hips, pulling off of him. "fine," you murmured, and he immediately got the look of a kicked puppy, instinctively reaching for your waist again. "wait, no, don't-"
he paused as you got on your knees in front of him, running a hand through your hair to push it back. "... oh," he murmured, his hand sifting into your hair as you undid his jeans. his breath audibly hitched when you pulled his boxers down, his cock slapping up against his abs. he was already throbbing in your hand and beading pre, which you thumbed and smeared over his flared head.
“fuck…” he groaned, spreading his legs further apart. you looked up at him through your lashes. “sensitive?” you teased, and he only managed a nod in response.
you hummed and gently pumped him, barely even that. deciding to tease, you basically ghosted your fingers over his length, then leaned in and pressed a little wet kiss to his leaking tip.
“mm-hm!” his hips bucked up and a whine bubbled up from his chest. his tip prodded at your lips, and you took the opportunity to close your lips around him and sink your head down just a few inches. he was already a whining mess, tugging at your hair as his thighs tensed.
“fuck—“ he groaned after not even a minute. “wait, wait, wait— ‘m not gonna—“
you pulled off of him, lips still connected to his cock by a string of saliva. “don’t tell me you’re already close,” you raised a brow.
he huffed a small, nervous laugh. “i… think i am…” and judging by how he looked, he wasn’t lying. dark hair sticking with sweat to his forehead just a bit, his chest rising and falling as he panted, his flushed skin, face and ears tinted pink.
“that fast?” a shit-eating grin tugged at your lips.
he groaned and let his head fall back, scrubbing his free hand down his face. “you were just…!” he protested, gesturing vaguely to his lap, then you.
you hummed. “fair.” you moved to take him back into your mouth, but a tug on your hair stopped you. frowning, you protested. “what…?”
his chest was still heavy with his panting, his hips twitching up into the air. “just— i won’t last if you keep—“
“so?” you shrugged, dropping your gaze back to where your hand was wrapped around him. you stuck out your tongue and let a glob of spit spill to his tip, then smeared it along his slit. “i know i was teasing you, but i don’t care. really.”
he groaned and tugged at your hair again, then reached down and pulled you up by your arms, making you squeak in surprise. “choso—!”
“not like this…” he grunted, hoisting you up effortlessly, holding your legs around his waist as he stood. “wanna make you feel good first…” he mumbled shyly into your neck, setting you down on the bed and kissing down your body. his lips left a wet, cool trail on your skin, goosebumps following.
your stomach did a flip. itadori was right… he really was sweet. your expression softened. “you don’t have to—“
“i want to,” he mumbled against your inner thigh, his lips suckling gently at the skin there. he hesitated, pulling just an inch away and gazing up at you like he was already drunk on you. “… is that okay?”
your heart flopped around in your chest. “yeah…” you sighed out softly. he nodded and carefully undid the button and zipper of your jeans, pulling them down with your panties.
“holy shit…” he mumbled aloud, probably meaning to keep that in his head. he reached up hesitantly and gently spread your drooling folds with his fingers. he glanced back up at you with wider puppy eyes, quietly asking for permission.
you nodded, fingers threading into his dark locks. “go ahead.”
he didn’t waste a second, pressing a wet kiss to your clit before suckling the bud between his lips.
“fuck—!” your knees jerked up along with your hips. "oh my god, where the fuck did you-?"
"mmph," he grunted against your cunt. "'m not a virgin, y'know,"
your cheeks flushed. "yeah, i knew that..." you grumbled, even though up until about five seconds ago you'd figured he hadn't felt the touch of a woman before. he huffed against you and picked up his pace as if he now had something to prove, his tongue delving between your folds and slurping up every drop of your slick. his thumb came to rub quick little circles into your swollen bud, leaving you fisting at his hair.
"choso- holy shit-"
"mmf..." he grunted, his hips jerking against the mattress. he kept humming and grunting in both the effort of eating you out and the pleasure from grinding against his bed, the vibrations shooting through you and making your back arch.
he definitely knew what he was doing, at least with you. every time your hips jerked up or your thighs twitched or you tugged at his hair, he chased it, learning you in real time. his hand slid up your stomach, grabbing a fistful of your top to ground himself. he was practically humping the mattress, desperate for friction to soothe his throbbing cock.
you were too lost in your own cloud of pleasure to even notice it. one hand fisted at his hair, keeping his face buried in your pussy, the other fisted at the sheets. "f-fuck, cho- 'm close..."
he groaned and grabbed your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to his face. "c'mon." you could barely make out what he said, his voice was so muffled. he sucked harshly on your clit, then brought his hand to plunge two deft fingers into your hole, bullying your g-spot. "c'mon, give it t'me... please..."
you came with a whine of his name, your back arching and obscene squelching noises coming from where choso’s tongue met your sticky walls. he groaned loudly, his jaw going slack for a moment, and the moment the mattress stopped squeaking was when you realized it had been making noise at all.
he shuddered a bit, pulling away from you with glossy lips, your cum dripping down his chin. your hazy gaze raked down his body as he sat up, finding a dark patch in his boxers.
you couldn’t help the laugh you exhaled. “did you seriously cum in your pants from eating me out?”
choso was beet red again, red crawling up his neck. “shut up.”
biting your lip, you smiled and crawled forward, slowly and deliberately, like a jaguar stalking her prey. choso gulped visibly, almost shrinking back a little, but his body froze up in fear... or excitement. or both.
"you couldn't even wait..." you smirked, tilting his chin up once you were on top of him. your fingers ghosted down his shirt, feeling his abs, dipping below his waistband.
choso let out a shaky breath, bringing his hands to hover over your waist, as if he wanted to grab on but he wasn't sure if he was allowed to. "i- i tried..." he murmured, the tips of his ears blushing pink.
your smirk widened. "didn't seem like it."
he swallowed hard at that, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat. your fingers teased right at his trail, waiting until he was bucking up into you to pull his waistband down. he was still rock hard and throbbing, sticky cum dripping down the veins of his cock.
you bit your lip and smiled, your eyes lighting up at the sight of him like you'd just won the lottery. "mmh..." you moved your hips to hover over him, and he finally grabbed onto the swell of your hips.
"wait-" he stammered out. "... protection? i have condoms-"
"fuck that, 'm on the pill," you muttered, tossing your hair back and moving to sink down on him.
"are you s- ohhhhmygod..." he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut and his brow knitting as you enveloped him with a sweet squelchh! the stretch dragged a little whine out of you, and you bit your lip to hold it back. you bottomed out, ass flush to his thighs, and took a moment to stare at him. panting, flushed, brow seemingly permanently knotted upwards.
"choso."
"one second."
"are you seriously trying to not cum already?"
he whined and let his head fall back to the mattress, already humiliated from cumming in his pants, and now you were just being cruel. "just- give me a second, okay? jesus..." he panted.
you gave him a second, waiting patiently. then two, three, four, five...
you rolled your hips, and his hands flew to your waist. "fuuuuckk...!" he rasped, lifting his head to glare up at you, only to find you with a shit eating grin. "theerre he is..." you purred, rolling your hips again.
"please-" he whined into the back of his hand after throwing it over his face. "please, i just need a minute, 'm not gonna-"
"choso," you pulled his hand away, staring down at him. your free hand smoothed over his chest, feeling his heart banging against his ribcage. "look at me. you're doing so good..."
the sound that left him was sharp, broken, and obviously he hadn't meant to let it slip out. something like a whimper crossed with a groan and maybe even a little sob. his hips bucked up into you, your hole squelching softly. "don't say that..." he murmured, his face hot.
"takin' me so well, stretchin' me out..." you purred, just to see his reaction. it was gold, of course, another whine spilling past his lips. his fingers dug into the fat of your hips, not stopping you, just holding on for dear life. "you're doing that on purpose," he accused breathlessly.
"obviously."
you took his hands from your hips and brought them up to the curve below your breast, letting him hold you where he could feel your heartbeat. then, bracing your own hands on his chest, you leaned forward a bit, glancing down at where his cock disappeared between your drenched folds. little bubbles of pre foamed at where he did.
you dragged your hips up, then sunk down-
"fuck-" choso's breath hitched, and his bit his lip to keep from being loud. his jaw clenched, his eyes were shut tight like if he didn't look at you, maybe, just maybe, he could keep himself from cumming right now.
"you can be loud, cho. no one's gonna hear you over the party downstairs."
he swallowed thickly and nodded. "right, right..."
"and open your eyes. wan' you to watch me ride your cock."
he twitched inside you, and he huffed. "can you not-"
you rose and dropped your hips to shut him up, and a broken whine interrupted whatever complaint he had. and you didn't stop there, speeding up and bouncing on him without any pauses.
"shit, shit, oh my- fuuckk-" it dragged out of him. long and dissolving. his head pressed back into the pillow, his hands flexing against your waist. "okay. okay, okay, okay-"
your hands moved from his chest up to his hair, fisting his soft locks in both hands like handlebars. he whined and hugged you to his chest, burying his face in your neck.
"cho-"
"don't stop, please..." he almost cried into your neck. "please don't stop, feels s-s'good, 'm... fuuck, 'm not gonna last..." he dragged his words out with soft whines.
you felt it building in your stomach too. it was impossible to ignore at this point, the way his cock was rubbing up on your gummy spot and smearing globs of his precum over it.
"yeah?" you managed to pant out, dipping your head down to gently nip at his earlobe. "you gonna fill me up? hm?"
"hngh- fuck-"
you sped up, sweaty skin slapping against sweaty skin as he began to buck up desperately into you.
"hm? can't hear you, cho. i asked if you're gonna cum inside me," you panted. choso was panting heavily, his gaze trained on where your pussy lips stretched and drooled around his cock, bouncing up and down.
squelch!
squelchh!
squelchhh!
he finally slammed his hips up into you, his head thrown back as a strained cry spilled from his raw lips. "h-hngh- 'm cumming- cumming-!!"
his cock throbbed and twitched against your velvet walls, spurting and sticking his seed to your walls. "oh my god..." he panted, hips hips rutting up in aftershock, mushroomy tip smearing his sticky white allllll around your walls till he was leaking out of you.
you followed close behind, your fingers twisting in his hair, back arching and head tilting back. your poor hole quivered around him, squeezing his swollen cock in quick pulses. you glanced back in the mirror to find sticky patches of white dripping down your inner thighs, and your jaw dropped.
you looked back down at him underneath you: totally fucked out, half lidded eyes, chewed and raw lips parted, drool slicking down from the corners of his mouth. "that was..." he rasped, then closed his eyes.
"yeah..." you exhaled a small laugh, still catching your breath. you pulled off of him with a lewd drag, then plopped down beside him. his hand subconsciously came up to your hair, sifting into your locks, and you wondered if he was even awake at this point.
careful not to wake him up, you reached across him to the nightstand for his phone, hovering it over his face for the face ID. you scrolled to his messages to add your number, then furrowed your brow as you saw his group chat being blown up.
SIGMA TAU BROTHERHOOD 🔥💪🍻
todo aoi: CHOSO GETTING CHEEKS TN YO
todo aoi: I SAW HIM TAKE A GIRL UPSTAIRS
itadori yuji: i set it up hb of the year over here
naoya zenin: kamo actually pulled? no way LMFAOOOOO
kinji hakari: STOP CALLIN MY PHONE SHE GETTIN FUCKED TN😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹
naoya zenin: yo this mf got negative aura how did this happen
todo aoi: CHOSO BROTHER I'M SO PROUD
naoya zenin: i'm serious bro wtf
you snorted and tossed his phone to the side, burrowing your face into choso's neck and snuggling into him. the party thumped on downstairs. for once, though you'd hate to admit it out loud, you could say itadori was right. you were glad you didn't go to kappa.
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