HILLS HAVE EYES, THE HILLS HAVE EYES, WHO ARE YOU TO JUDGE?
THE HILLS HAVE EYES CHOSO X READER
a/n: part 1 teaser.
cw: mentions of cannibalism, blood, murder. kidnapping. ptsd. slightly yan choso. more warnings in later parts. eventual smut.
wc: 918 (fyi, no taglist <1k)
kinktober m.list
The Hills Have Eyes Choso who first sees you through his binoculars as you are running for your life across a dusty open field.
Eso and Kechizu were leisurely chasing you, hooping and hollering taunts. Little did you know you weren't running towards the road but deeper in the desert towards the caves and their encampment at the old abandoned military base.
While Choso wasn't one to usually deny Eso and Kechizu their fun, they weren't the best trackers and would surely lose you or worse if you ran into the caves. With a sigh, Choso agiley descends from his perched outlook post to cut you off before you can reach the cavern opening.
You were a good distance ahead of him but this is his land, he knows it well, and still manages to cut you off right as you reach the entrance.
His big looming figure standing in your path.
"Oh thank god!"
Yet instead of terror in your eyes, Choso is taken aback as you look to him like your savior. Upon seeing him and his seemingly normal features you practically throw yourself into his arms, so happy to run into someone who was not a mutant.
Utterly touch-starved, this kind of embrace from a pretty girl was something extremely new for Choso.
Your small arms are littered with scrapes and oozing cuts that look too painful for you to be desperately clinging to him to the degree that you are. Fully pressed against him, the intense heat radiating off your body amplifies that of the scorching desert and for a few moments Choso feels dizzy as you sob harder into him.
You're babbling, words nearly nonsensical as they spill out of you:
About your tour bus getting lost in this desert two days ago, how the spiked wire placed in the middle of the road shredded the tires, and finally how mutants attacked your bus.
They'd ruthlessly killed the driver and scattered your friends across the desert leading you here to find him now.
Choso says nothing.
What can he say?
You'd find out sooner than later you were the only one remaining from that tour bus still alive.
Instinctively comforting you despite your impending doom, Choso drapes his arms around you bringing you into his embrace. His hands, stained with the dried blood of all your friends, weaves into your hair and grips your soft waist.
Grasping your strands between his dirted fingers, Choso can't resist inhaling deeply.
You smell nice.
Of vanilla and sugar, simple flavors he had forgotten about until the scent of you stirred the comforting reminder.
The smell of his home.
The smell of his mother.
Her face flashed before his eyes and he pushed away the terrible memory he thought he'd buried deep enough it wouldn't resurface again.
But now Choso finds himself clinging to you just as desperately.
The child in him from all those years ago empathizing with the fragile lil desert dove that had flown so broken into his arms. An intense need he didn't fully understand surging through his body.
He'd protect you.
He'd be your salvation.
Unfortunately for you, it wouldn't be the rescue you wanted and Choso wasn't the hero he appeared to be.
To distraught and broken—you don't notice this. Nor do you notice flesh caked to the machete at his hips or even question what a man looking like he'd been in the desert longer than you was doing out here—still alive.
None of the pieces fit, you are too grateful to question anything. Until you hear a twisted voice cut through your sobs and ring in your ears.
The chilling words leave you paralyzed.
"Ha! Brother Choso! Ya caught 'er for us!"
Kechizu cheers.
Your eyes are now bulging out of your skull and by the time you attempt to push away from the man, you finally realize his hold isn't one of comfort but containment.
To your horror Choso whips you around, both his arms now wrapped around your midsection as the mutants who were chasing your—who you now know to be his brothers approaches you.
"She looks so tasty too! She'll cook up nice. All that runnin' n' cryin' making her nice and tender, I bet."
Eso quips, licking his lips at you.
You felt queasy, the overwhelming nausea that accompanies your despair making you retch. It's only the dehydration from being hunted in the desert for the past two days that keeps the bile in your stomach from rising to your throat when you realized the intentions of these mutants.
They were cannibals.
Not only were you going to die.
You were going to be eaten.
"Now, now...Eso, Kechizu—stand down, you two."
Choso's words are cheery yet chiding words of a kind older brother, which prompts the collective child-like groans from his two very grown mutant brothers—brothers who look nothing like their far more handsome, normal looking brother.
"We're going to keep her."
Choso now only holds you with one arm, yet it might as well be a muscular iron band welded across your waist. No amount of your squirming can make him budge an inch.
His free hand comes around to press the flat edge of his well-used machete against your exposed navel—instantly stopping your escape attempts lest the weapon cut into your flesh.
Choso's gruff heady voice puffs into your ear causing a chill of terror to quake down your spine as your sobs are renewed.
"You'll be good for us, right ma?"
a/n: needed to post something for Oct 1st and I'm PST so I still made it!! lol. note, i will continue this but not until the other kinktober stories are completed. this was just brainrot.
fyi there will be elements of non con but no sa of reader. will be angsty and smutty mostly (choso with huge mommy kink). this story actually has a plot and depending on how long i wanna take it might be pretty long lol.
please reblog and comment.
taglist if you have asked to be tagged in general kinktober or are on my general tag list (with dead dove checked) i will tag you in this for later parts. if not then comment below to be tagged.
syn: Your patient! Toji wants your medicine, luckily you know just what he needs!!
CW: fingering, slight overstimulation, finger sucking, fingering, ass eating, cunnilingus
@blkkizzat I have succumbed to Toji...
divider by: @/cafekitsune
You were a scientist, a bit mad some would say but you didn't mind. Your clients were all respectful to some extent, except for a few. Nothing that you couldn't handle though..right?
Except, there was him. Toji Fushiguro, a pain in your ass for all the wrong reasons. The way his muscular arms tensed when he crossed them, or the way his sweatpants did nothing to cover the large, bulging imprint of his cock. Not to mention the way his hands felt, nice and rough against your smooth skin.
So, when he arrived for some extra treatment, who were you to say no?
Toji shoved two of his sticky wet fingers inside your hot mouth and grinned maliciously as you slurped on them sloppily. A small dribble of drool escaped the corner of your lips and her scooped it up with his middle finger, soon pressing that one in as well. You panted and moaned loudly as he withdrew his glistening hand and started to rub circles around your needy pussy.
His palm grinded into your clit so nicely you just couldn't stop yourself from trying to pull him closer. "Such a little slut, aren't you?" Toji smirked as you bit your lip to stay quiet and scowl at him. "This is mm- not sluttiness. It's simply an experiment." Even as you said this, there was no way anyone could miss the shakiness of your voice. You were just so eager and so ready to be filled up. It honestly was a bit pathetic.
Your little whimpers and pants grew in volume as you felt those fingers push inside you. His thick fingers stretched your tight cunt quite nicely and you couldn't wait to feel his cock. "Right there! ah- oh! hey don't- wait!" you gasped as Toji bent your legs towards you, fingers thrusting in and out of you with a lewd slurp! Your cunt was convulsing around him with every curl and even the slightest movement pulled you into a moaning frenzy.
"Only sluts would sit here and let themselves be fucked by their patient, doll." Toji stated as he places himself on the ground.
"I'm not- ah! shit- oh my gosh, don't stop!" you cried out as you felt his tongue start to suck harshly on your clit, lightly grazing it with his teeth. He pulled his fingers out and promptly started to devour you.
His tongue swirled inside your cunt, pressing against your gummy walls with rapid movements. He grunted as he pressed his face closer to your drooling pussy. Toji brought a long sloppy kiss to your clit, sucking and licking as if he was a starved man.
You squealed as you felt his tongue start to lick your other hole, sliding his tongue inside the warm hole with a grunt. You could feel him, moving around and fucking his tongue into you, causing your sweet pussy to gush more and more.
He moved his head back and forth quickly, lapping up both his saliva and your juices before pulling away and standing between your parted legs.
"If you can handle me eating that pussy of yours for six rounds, then I'll give you what you're so desperately craving. Got it?"
He didn't even wait for you to answer him, he just planted his face right back in between your thighs with the intent of his own experiment.
On everyone's soul idgaf about Dabi, birth name Touya Todoroki, quirk cremation, birthday January 18th age 24 (pre time skip), 32 (post time skip) eye color turquoise, hair color white formerly red dyed black, height 176cm (5 foot 9), mothers name Rei Himura, fathers name Enji Todoroki, favorite food soba, least favorite fish, gets motion sickness, has big dick
syn: Your patient! Toji wants your medicine, luckily you know just what he needs!!
CW: fingering, slight overstimulation, finger sucking, fingering, ass eating, cunnilingus
@blkkizzat I have succumbed to Toji...
divider by: @/cafekitsune
You were a scientist, a bit mad some would say but you didn't mind. Your clients were all respectful to some extent, except for a few. Nothing that you couldn't handle though..right?
Except, there was him. Toji Fushiguro, a pain in your ass for all the wrong reasons. The way his muscular arms tensed when he crossed them, or the way his sweatpants did nothing to cover the large, bulging imprint of his cock. Not to mention the way his hands felt, nice and rough against your smooth skin.
So, when he arrived for some extra treatment, who were you to say no?
Toji shoved two of his sticky wet fingers inside your hot mouth and grinned maliciously as you slurped on them sloppily. A small dribble of drool escaped the corner of your lips and her scooped it up with his middle finger, soon pressing that one in as well. You panted and moaned loudly as he withdrew his glistening hand and started to rub circles around your needy pussy.
His palm grinded into your clit so nicely you just couldn't stop yourself from trying to pull him closer. "Such a little slut, aren't you?" Toji smirked as you bit your lip to stay quiet and scowl at him. "This is mm- not sluttiness. It's simply an experiment." Even as you said this, there was no way anyone could miss the shakiness of your voice. You were just so eager and so ready to be filled up. It honestly was a bit pathetic.
Your little whimpers and pants grew in volume as you felt those fingers push inside you. His thick fingers stretched your tight cunt quite nicely and you couldn't wait to feel his cock. "Right there! ah- oh! hey don't- wait!" you gasped as Toji bent your legs towards you, fingers thrusting in and out of you with a lewd slurp! Your cunt was convulsing around him with every curl and even the slightest movement pulled you into a moaning frenzy.
"Only sluts would sit here and let themselves be fucked by their patient, doll." Toji stated as he places himself on the ground.
"I'm not- ah! shit- oh my gosh, don't stop!" you cried out as you felt his tongue start to suck harshly on your clit, lightly grazing it with his teeth. He pulled his fingers out and promptly started to devour you.
His tongue swirled inside your cunt, pressing against your gummy walls with rapid movements. He grunted as he pressed his face closer to your drooling pussy. Toji brought a long sloppy kiss to your clit, sucking and licking as if he was a starved man.
You squealed as you felt his tongue start to lick your other hole, sliding his tongue inside the warm hole with a grunt. You could feel him, moving around and fucking his tongue into you, causing your sweet pussy to gush more and more.
He moved his head back and forth quickly, lapping up both his saliva and your juices before pulling away and standing between your parted legs.
"If you can handle me eating that pussy of yours for six rounds, then I'll give you what you're so desperately craving. Got it?"
He didn't even wait for you to answer him, he just planted his face right back in between your thighs with the intent of his own experiment.
warnings: nsfw🔞, doctor/patient, gynecologist geto, pervy geto, dub con, medical kink, sexual misconduct, this is a long one~
“doctor geto will be in momentarily,” the nurse nods at you politely before slipping out of the room quietly.
you breathe out deeply in attempt to calm your nerves, turning away from the door to gaze at the tiled ceiling. the cheap gown you had to change into crinkles at every breath, only working to raise your nerves even further. it doesn’t help that you’re completely naked underneath, you even tried to keep your panties on at the very least but the nurse explained that they’d be taken off eventually anyways. you assume removing them on your own is preferable compared to having them ripped off of you by a doctor you’ve never met before.
you’ve always avoided the gynecologist, having heard horror stories from friends and family, and you were successful for twenty two years of your life— until now. apparently you were due for your first check up at twenty one, the recommended age for women to start getting checked, but you had dodged it when your primary physician recommended it.
but after a very bad, unsuccessful attempt at losing your virginity, you figured it’s time to make sure everything is okay down there. your face still burns when the awkward memory of your date attempting to push his cock into you for almost an hour and ultimately failing flashes within your mind. you can still hear him mutter, ‘i like tight but that’s just not normal.’
three brief knocks to the door snap you out of your nervous daze and you shoot upright, gown and protective sheet under you crinkling obnoxiously with your movement.
after a respectful moment, you clear your throat and put on a polite tone.
“come in!” and you cringe at the sound of your shaky voice as the door clicks open.
your face drains of blood when a tall, dark haired man slips in, wearing a long white doctors coat. you had almost thought he was a woman because of the long length of his hair but it quickly became obvious that‘s not the case due to his features and large form.
immediately he smiles in a respectful manner before turning to the sink in the corner to wash his hands.
“hello, y/n. how are you today?”
you’re incredibly stiff as you eye him sanitize his hands, silently racing through possible excuses you could use to get out of this. sure, you were a bit apprehensive about this whole thing before but you were willing to try— that is until a man walked in. you figured men weren’t even allowed in this profession considering the obvious, most not having the same genitalia, but apparently you were heavily mistaken because he has that natural bulge in his dress pants indicating he most definitely doesn’t have a vagina. you have no idea how this could be appropriate.
“um yes, good,” you trail off, blinking rapidly as he swivels the stool closer in front of you and settles onto it with a satisfied grunt, manspreading seemingly comfortably. “are you the uh- doctor?”
he hums with a nod and gently gestures to his name tag reading, ‘dr. geto.’
now your head spins, thighs pushing closed as tightly as possible while you unintentionally clench the white sheet under you.
he seems to notice your nervousness, though he had already picked up on it even before he entered the room—having seen you tapping your foot in the waiting area. he understands that it’s perfectly natural to be anxious before an appointment like this, especially as a young woman. according to your patient intake form, this is your first time at the gynecologist, your first time in this particular clinic, and your first time meeting him— so it makes sense. but still, your anxiety seems to exceed what he usually sees in his patients under these circumstances.
so he wears a face of concern as he addresses you.
“is everything okay?”
immediately you chuckle, nervously and avoid his intimidating eye contact. it certainly doesn’t help that he’s so attractive.
“i just,” you gulp, “-thought i’d have a woman doctor.”
his concerned face relaxes into an understanding one as he clasps his hands together professionally between his legs with his forearms resting on his upper thighs.
“ah, i see. i apologize for the misunderstanding, this is actually my clinic so i’m the only doctor here. you’re welcome to find another clinic you’re more comfortable with, but i would like to say that i’m a professional and you have nothing to worry about if you decide to stay.”
“oh! i um- don’t doubt your professionalism, i’ve just never done this before and..” you drift into silence, eyes flickering up at him briefly as a harsh heat litters your cheeks and neck.
“completely understandable to be nervous for your first time, but i assure you, you have nothing to worry about. i’ve seen many, many bodies on that very bed, and i’m quite used to it.” he smiles, comfortingly and though his words are meant to ease you, they do the opposite. they only work to remind you of the imminent threat of baring your naked lower half to the attractive man in front of you.
as if sensing your rising nerves, he speaks again.
“why don’t we just start with some questions? we don’t need to do an examination unless you want to.”
you sigh in relief and nod timidly, shoulders relaxing as you let go of the paper underneath you. though it’s still nerve wracking to tell him about why you’re here, it’s much less intimidating than the stirrups beside you.
a smile grows on his face as you nod and he claps his hands together gently in preparation.
“great. let’s start with why you’re here today— a regular check up or do you have a specific issue?”
you gulp, fingers fiddling in your lap. “well i have an issue, i guess.”
he hums and nods to urge you on as he adopts a focused expression.
“i’m worried i have some sort of- i don’t know- infection maybe?”
“i see. are you having symptoms?” he questions as you grapple with the vulnerability of this.
“uh- not exactly. i had a,” you pause as your gaze flickers up at the ceiling in attempt to explain the situation without exposing the whole embarrassing picture, “—situation. i can’t get something big inside of me.”
a moment of silence follows, and you anxiously glance back at his face, worrying that you might not be normal and that this is an unusual issue for him to encounter with patients.
he inhales as he briefly squints in slight confusion.
“i’m sorry— you said you can’t get something big inside of you? are you having intercourse problems?” geto remembers seeing on your intake form that you’re a virgin so he’s assuming when you first tried to have sex, he couldn’t put it in.
you inhale sharply with parted lips as if thinking on what to say, “yes.”
he hums and nods. “i think i understand. just to be clear, your partner— i’m guessing a man—hasn’t been able to penetrate you?”
“mhm. i’m just nervous that maybe something is wrong with me,” you mutter timidly, eyes nervously tracing his face, “i-is this not common?”
immediately he holds his hands up as to comfort you. “well, first of all i’d like to be clear that there’s likely nothing wrong with you. i can’t say i’ve had many patients with this problem but that doesn’t mean i can’t help.”
you chew on the inside of your cheek as you shyly nod.
“is this an issue of lack of lubrication maybe?” he questions with concentration and an obvious genuine desire to help you. as a man, geto knows how most other men are, your ‘partner’ who’s probably as young and naive as you are, likely doesn’t know how to turn you on correctly, doesn’t know the places that make you dripping wet like you need to be for penetration— especially for a virgin.
immediately, you flush even harsher. “oh, i don’t— i’m not completely sure. i don’t think so.” it’s not as if you were soaking wet when you had tried to have sex but you weren’t dry either.
“okay, maybe it’s a not an issue with you. was he able to hold an erection?” he inquires, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. he thinks it’s much more likely that this guy is the problem, maybe he got too nervous and chickened out before he could even get it in you.
“no, he was hard— i think,” you mumble, recalling the size of his dick was smaller than you imagined it would be. and if geto wasn’t such a trained professional, maybe you’d be able to tell he almost laughed at that.
“hmm, okay. may i ask if you use tampons? if so, is it painful?” he inquires, gently, growing worried that maybe something else is happening here.
“no, not painful really— i mean, maybe a little?” you sigh, unsure and a bit frustrated at your inability to aid the doctor efficiently. tampons are uncomfortable but you’re not sure if it’s an unusual level of discomfort.
“please, feel free to let me know if you’re uncomfortable with answering but it will aid your diagnosis if you can.” he briefs you, as if warning you for the next question gently.
you take a deep breath and nod, making him dart his tongue out briefly as if to prepare.
“do you masterbate?” he asks as if it’s a natural inquiry, and for him it probably is. your stomach tingles in nerves and surprise at the question.
your face heats up as you hesitate.
“kind of,” you shrug, noncommittally as if trying to avoid being too direct with your response. geto’s dealt with his fair share of shy patients, and by now, he's fluent in the 'maybe' and 'sort of' answers—yours being a clear yes.
“that’s very good,” he praises you with a deep tone, making you chew on the inside of your cheek, feet fidgeting against one another as you avoid direct eye contact. “it’s very healthy to bring yourself to orgasm as often as you can.”
you give him a smile that feels mandatory, it immaturely feels as if he knows something secret about you now as he gazes at you for a beat.
“when you masterbate, do you just touch? or do you penetrate yourself?” as his gentle, deep tone utters the word penetrate, you gulp, his eyes dancing down to flicker at your small fingers fidgeting against one another.
you nod stiffly with eyes on the floor. “both.”
“with—?” he trails off, head tilting a bit in attempt to observe your reaction to gauge your answer.
“my fingers,” you timidly explain, quickly brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear in a nervous habit.
“okay,” geto hums a chuckle, making your eyes dart up at him in question, “that’s great, really great.”
before you can ask why that’s so great with furrowed brows, he inhales deeply and his eyes lock back on you.
“and does this bring you to orgasm?” he asks gently, oddly comfortingly.
you can’t help but laugh awkwardly in a sort of nervous habit, making his grin grow in tandem to your laughing.
“is that funny?” he coos in amusement, as if playfully questioning a cat about the thrill of knocking over a glass.
you immediately shake your head no with a concealed immature smile.
“sorry—”
“—don’t apologize,” he interrupts your obviously casual apology as if it were a serious one, “it can be awkward to discuss things like this, i acknowledge that. especially with a man twice your age, just act like i’m one of your friends.”
you gulp, your obvious naivety feeling much more pronounced now that he’s reminded you of your difference in maturity.
“okay. how um— specific do you want me to be?”
his response is immediate, “as specific as you’re comfortable with. the more information, the better.”
you inhale deeply and squint at the ceiling as you think on it.
“well, i can cu— orgasm easier when i play wit— i mean stimulate my clit,” you stumble over your words, nervously.
he hums slowly, making the humiliation you already feel grow within yourself.
“how often do you play with yourself?” he asks, and for a moment, your eyes widen, fully aware that he’s using the exact words you were hesitant to say, afraid they’d come off as inappropriate.
you bite your lower lip subtly, briefly glancing at the floor. having to recall such intimate details while an attractive man with those sharp eyes watches you—it’s impossible not to squeeze your thighs together under the weight of the topic.
you remind yourself it’s silly to think this way—he’s a trained doctor, just doing his job, trying to innocently help a young girl. but still, you can’t shake the feeling— no man has ever asked you about something so intimate with such focus, as if he genuinely wants to understand what brings you to that intense high of pleasure.
you know it’s all in your head, that he’s actually being professional, yet a small part of you wonders if his role as a doctor ever follows him home. does he recall the patient who can only reach orgasm while playing with their nipples as he makes dinner? or does he keep those details neatly tucked away, never letting them blur the lines of his professionalism?
your gaze shoots up to him when he gently calls your name, pulling you out of your thoughts to check if you’re okay.
“oh sorry,” you huff sharply as you shake your head briefly, “maybe four times a week, it helps me sleep.”
“i see,” he clears his throat, adjusting on the stool briefly, “and how long does it take you to reach orgasm when you’re playing with your clit?”
you press your palms against your face, trying to mask your embarrassment as you avoid his gaze for a moment, the weight of his question hanging in the air, making you swallow hard.
“i dont really know,” you mumble, “i guess it depends on how uh— into it i am. sometimes five minutes, sometimes twenty.”
“that’s perfectly normal,” he smiles and allows for a beat, making you nod back in acknowledgement.
“does it hurt when you use your fingers inside?” he asks, making you hum in thought.
“sometimes,” you shrug, shyly.
then he takes a deep breath as if preparing to explain something to you. “well, it’s quite difficult to know for sure without an exam but there is a condition called vaginismus where the muscles around the vagina tighten involuntarily, making penetration difficult or painful.”
immediately you gulp and your brows pinch in worry. geto thinks you’re such a sweet girl, it pains him to worry you.
“i-is there a cure for that? if i have that, will i never be able to have sex?” you question eagerly, the embarrassment of speaking such words fizzle into worry for your wellbeing.
"don’t worry, there are effective treatments available to alleviate symptoms if that’s truly what the problem is but to diagnose you and or treat it will all require me to examine as well as—touch your vaginal area,” he explains with slight sympathy, seeing how your expression changes into one of terror as he speaks.
“fuck,” you mutter to yourself, hands running down your face in preparation, “okay, fine. just help me, please.”
the idea of never being able to have sex like a normal person scares you— not to mention the fear and embarrassment of having to tell any boyfriends in the future about your potential condition before dating. even though this doctor is a man and in retrospect, you could find another place with a woman doctor, that might take a few days to verify with your insurance before even booking an appointment. you’re sure this condition isn’t time sensitive for treatment based on what he said but you aren’t sure if you can sleep tonight without knowing what’s wrong with you.
he smiles kindly. “great, i understand this may be uncomfortable, but please know that i’ll prioritize your comfort and provide the highest level of care. you can trust me.”
you exhale shakily and nod with a small, polite smile.
“um- do i just,” you stutter, gesturing towards the stirrups and leaning back on your palms awkwardly.
he huffs softly in amusement but cuts himself off. “i know the stirrups can be intimidating so lets just start with lying back and relaxing.”
you nod with a shaky sigh as you lie back, your calves and feet dangling off the edge, staring up at the dull, off-white ceiling once again. before he approaches you, you hear him opening a cabinet and grabbing something from it.
he then approaches your side, adjusting the bed so that it raises a bit considering he’s so tall. he then slides out a foot rest that elongates the bed, gently picking up your calves and aiding in placing them down on it so you’re lying flat.
“i’m going to start with checking your blood pressure, heart rate, all that boring stuff,” he lightly jokes with a silly, kind smile making you huff despite your anxiety.
you watch as he proceeds to un velcro the blood pressure cuff, hold it with one hand, and then lay the other hand on your covered thigh. “this doohickey goes around your upper thigh, unfortunately it’s more accurate that way. is that okay?”
it’s evident he’s trying to make the situation more comfortable by calling the blood pressure cuff a ‘doohickey’ while mentioning that he needs to expose your upper thigh for this.
“o-oh, i guess,” you stutter, gaze flickering down nervously.
“great,” he smiles before gently sliding the hem of the gown up his finger tips leaving goosebumps in their wake, making you snap a hand down onto your covered pussy to keep the gown in place with a gulp.
he simply smiles down at you, eyes eerily intense as he gives you a moment to hold the gown down with fluster.
“good, keep your hand there,” he says as if he was the one to suggest it.
he then gently wraps his hand around the back of your knee and lifts it to a bent position.
“how old are you, y/n?” he questions, obviously just making small talk considering he already knows your age from your intake form.
he then secures the cuff around the upper part of your thigh, brushing his cold hands against the cuff and, inadvertently, your surrounding skin, causing your thigh to clench briefly.
you clear your throat and blink, “i’m twenty- two.”
then he begins to pump the pressure cuff, making you slightly grimace at the pressure.
“i’m surprised you haven’t had an exam yet,” he voices, eyes on the meter with a respectful, gentle smile still on his face as he concentrates.
“oh, i just— get nervous, i guess.” you shrug as he stops pumping and squints his eyes at the meter.
“that’s unfortunate, it’s important to get annual checkups for prevention,” he says, slim eyes flickering at you briefly. he says it in a tone that clearly conveys his professional expertise, yet carries a hint of amusement, like a parent gently reminding their child about the importance of good behavior in public.
“i know, i’ll try to be better about it,” you say shyly as he begins to slowly pull off the cuff, making sure to briefly rub against the indents it created in your skin. you can’t help but inhale sharply at the feeling of his large warm hands basically massaging your upper thigh, so close to your most intimate areas.
“good, feel okay?” he asks with concern, referring to your upper thigh.
“mhm, totally fine,” you say, politely making him take his hand away from you.
he then makes his way to the cabinets in the corner and starts rummaging through it once again, seemingly looking for something.
your brows furrow as he sighs and makes his way back to your side, placing one large palm against the middle of your thigh.
“unfortunately, my silly nurse forgot to order the new medical grade stethoscopes so if it’s okay with you, i can use my hand. it’s probably more efficient this way anyways,” he asks you. his tone is so gentle and sweet that it’s just impossible to say no, after all what’s the harm, he’s a doctor.
“sure, whatever works,” you nod, making him smile in gratitude.
in a professional manner, he extends his hand and places it flat against the left side of your chest. his large hand covers most of the area, pressing down on your left breast, causing you to feel a surge of embarrassment and look away from his gaze. you glance at the door nervously as he presses into your breast slowly and with pressure. the act makes you feel as though you’re doing something wrong or taboo. if one of his nurses were to walk in right now, you wouldn’t know what to do.
he then hums in a conflicted manner after a moment, making your gaze flicker to his face in question.
“i can’t feel your heart through this pesky gown,” he sighs, making your heart rate immediately skyrocket at the insinuation. he seems to notice your nerves.
“oh, don’t worry, you can keep the gown on. i can just reach under if you’re comfortable with it? i’ll be quick,” he asks in a kind, professional way that makes you feel as though he’s genuine. still, you can’t help but feel hesitant.
“oh, i don’t— um— is it really necessary?” you ask nervously, chewing on the inside of your cheek with pinched brows.
“well, it’s important to make sure your heart is healthy and beating in a natural way,” he explains, kindly.
you fall silent, knowing that if he feels your heartbeat under the gown, his large hand is bound to directly touch your left breast. the thought is nerve-wracking—maybe in movies, this would be a fantasy scenario, but in real life, the idea of it is anything but romantic; it’s frightening.
“you know what? let me ask my nurse if we have any old stethoscopes,” he says after a few moments of your silence, attempting to comfort you.
you nod gently with a sigh in brief relief and he begins to walk to the door.
he peeks his head out and calls over his nurse.
“do we have any of our old stethoscopes in storage maybe?”
you can’t hear the nurses response but you can assume it’s not good news because doctor geto sighs, although he’s naturally soft in his demeanor and tone, you can tell he’s frustrated with his nurse.
“first not ordering the new ones in time and now this? at this point, i should just hire a monkey to do your job.”
his words shock you, you can’t help but feel sympathy for the nurse as they respond to him. in fact, you feel so guilty that you gulp before calling doctor geto’s name.
hearing your call, he turns to you with a kind smile.
“yes?”
“uhm actually— i change my mind. you can do it under the gown. it’s no big deal,” you stutter, wearing a face of faux nonchalance. in retrospect, maybe you should have held your ground and refused to let him do as he pleases, doctor or not, but it does seem a bit silly to care all that much about your breast when he’s going to be face to face with your pussy soon enough.
immediately, he blinks at you with raised brows in slight surprise.
“are you sure? i can try to find something else or—”
“—no, no. it’s really okay,” you interrupt him, adding a casual huff to add to your calm persona.
“oh great, i deeply apologize for the inconvenience,” he smiles at you, pinched brows in a slight pout as if he feels sympathy for you.
you nod and shrug as to wave off his apology.
then, he shuts the door, not even notifying his nurse before making his way back to hover over your side.
he then carefully and slowly slips his hand beneath your gown through the neckline. you shiver at his touch that trails to your left breast. his gaze is locked on nothing in particular in the distance, attempting to concentrate.
your brows twitch and your lips part slightly as he gently feels around the fat of your breast with his fingers, pressing into the area where he believes your heart is, searching for the spot where he can feel it most clearly. though you’re trying so hard to keep your heartbeat at a normal rate, your attempt seems to do the opposite, making it skyrocket. considering the anxiety of the uncomfortably bright room with a hot male gynecologist who’s hand is down your shirt, it’s not completely ridiculous that it’s a bit faster than normal.
you notice his addams’s apple bob when your nipple brushes against his cold finger. you on the other hand, can’t help but gasp shallowly and sharply, jolting a bit at the sensitivity.
“you okay?” he questions, as if he doesn’t even know why you reacted that way while your nipples rapidly begin to harden from the chilly friction.
“yeah- yes. of course,” you nervously jut out, attempting to take advantage of his ignorance to avoid the embarrassment and his gaze.
he hums before taking a few moments to push into a specific area of your breast to listen to your heartbeat and record the amount of beats per minute.
after a minute of silence, he hums. “are you nervous? your heart beat is quite high— 130 beats,” he questions with concern, allowing a moment for his hand to rest on your bare chest as if he’s attempting to comfort you before sliding it out.
“sorry, yes,” you mumble, trying to ignore the fact that your nipples are likely poking through the gown.
“hmm. though quite fast, i’d say your heart rate is perfectly normal. blood pressure is fine too,” he offers you a kind smile as he gently slides the extended part of the bed back in, leaving your calves and feet dangling over the edge once again.
next, he makes his way out of your sight, making you eye the annoying ceiling once again.
you fight the urge to sit up and see what he’s doing as you hear the roll of the wheeled chair, his footsteps, and the snap of latex gloves.
“have you removed your underwear?” he smoothly inquires, making you nod quickly and utter a ‘yes.’
“do you have a boyfriend, y/n?” he asks kindly, moving to stand in front of your legs now. it’s clear he’s trying to distract you in an effort to help you relax.
“boyfriend? no way,” you laugh, breathily but still quite nervous as he gently lays a gloved hand onto your outer thigh. you had barely had your first blind date the other day when this problem started, much less a boyfriend.
he lightly chuckles with you briefly. he assumes you had tried for a one night stand sort of arrangement when you ran into this little problem of yours.
“oh yeah? i’m going to put your feet into the stirrups now, okay? i apologize if it’s cold,” he voices, allowing a moment to wait for your nod before gently sliding his hand from your thigh down to wrap around your ankle. you appreciate his decency to vocalize before doing something.
you gulp as he carefully places your foot onto the stirrup, followed by the other foot. a sudden rush of cold air fans your warm folds, making you shiver as your gown rides up to your hip crease.
as he positions you, he moves to stand between your legs, and you feel the fabric of his long coat brush against the inner parts of your thighs. if he weren’t standing as close as he is, your exposed vagina would likely be quite visible to him. you can see him wearing a relaxed expression above you, watching you to ensure you’re comfortable.
he then taps the outside of your right thigh gently, causing a ripple of goosebumps to race down your leg.
“doing okay?” he asks, leaning in the smallest bit to better face you. his closeness causes you to stiffen in embarrassment.
“y-yes— mhm,” you nod quickly, attempting to fight off the heat that’s creeping up on your face and neck as you avoid his hovering gaze.
“i’m going to sit now,” he gently warns you, indicating that he will be face to face with your pussy once he sits down. you nod in acknowledgment, even though you realize he likely doesn’t see your response.
the rolling chair comes to a stop directly in front of you and as he takes a seat with a deep breath, you shut your eyes tightly and clench your fists by your side, aware that he can now see everything on full display.
“i’ll need to touch both externally and internally; is that alright with you?" he asks, prompting you to make a breathy sound in embarrassment, your eyes remaining closed in anxiety.
“oh, inside too? okay,” you gulp, stuttering over your words.
“just tell me if you’d like me to stop and i will, immediately.” he speaks professionally as he places one hand gently on the mid part of your inner thigh, the unexpected touch causing you to gasp quietly in shock despite his warnings.
“right, okay,” you exhale shakily as he moves his hand down your thigh. he then uses two fingers to gently separate your folds, exposing a glimpse of your entrance. you can only assume he trailed his hand from your thigh to your labia to considerately allow you to anticipate the touch.
“there we go, looks good so far,” he voices with lighthearted concentration. and even though you know he’s talking about your external genitalia looking healthy, his wording still makes you blush even harder— part of you assuming immediately that he means aesthetically. if the man between your legs wasn’t as attractive as he is, you likely wouldn’t react as you are.
“i’m going to press down on some areas and you tell me if it hurts, alright?”
then as soon as you mutter an affirmation, he releases your folds and gently presses two large fingers on your clit, forcing a jolt of electric arousal to briefly shoot through your body, making your thighs jerk a bit.
“d-doesn’t hurt,” you inform him as you make an effort to keep your legs open.
“great, and here?” he questions, moving his fingers down to press on the area just above your enterance opening.
your brows twitch, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to fight off the surge of heat running through you. a beat of silence ensues, attempting to calm yourself.
“uh no,” you quickly answer before your silence becomes suspicious.
you hadn’t anticipated feeling aroused during this process, especially with your friends’ accounts of the pain and discomfort from various metal contraptions that they shoved into them. however, doctor geto’s voice is undeniably soothing, not to mention he looks more like an idol than a doctor.
“excellent, and— here?” he asks again, this time pressing on the area between your pussy and your second hole.
it’s a bit uncomfortable, but you’re pretty sure that’s just because it’s an awkward area.
“no, not painful,” you explain, grimacing a bit at the feeling.
“not painful but-?” he questions, sensing your hesitance to explain further.
“um, it’s just uncomfortable. i’ve never been touched there, it feels weird,” you mutter quickly, humiliated to even admit that to him.
he huffs in a slight laugh, “okay, now i’m going to feel around your labia to feel for any abnormalities. just relax.”
immediately, you begin to blink rapidly with pinched brows as he runs two fingers through your folds, starting at your clit and sliding down to your entrance before swiping back up and repeating. with every slide of his fingers, your abdomen tightens and relaxes, while your toes curl and uncurl gently. your hips instinctively shift, responding softly to the sensations coursing through you.
“feel okay?” he asks considerately, in his cooing tone, only escalating your perversion, making you hesitantly pull your hand away from your mouth to respond.
“i-it feels g- fine, yes,” you breathe out, mentally cursing at yourself for almost admitting how good it feels.
you know this is an examination, but it’s the same type of stimulus that someone would use with the intention of pleasing you. it’s shockingly alluring and terribly taboo, making you feel equal parts shame and euphoria. you try desperately to think of anything gross or weird to turn off your rising arousal but it’s futile— maybe it would work if you weren’t so inexperienced, but you simply are.
he hums, long and soft as he continues to examine you with his large two middle fingers.
“this boy you were seeing,” he begins, barely working to pique your attention that’s glued to the way his cold gloved fingers feel against your folds, “was he able to bring you to climax with his fingers or anything else?”
your breathing deepens, eyes lidded in relaxation as you blink slowly, trying desperately to focus on answering your doctor.
“not really,” you pause to sigh deeply in relaxation, “he touched me over my panties but i didn’t cum or anything.”
your nervousness fades with each glide of his fingers, your attention shifting from the worry of saying the wrong thing to the sensations he creates. with each gentle drag, you find yourself speaking as if to a close friend, your walls crumbling as you become more absorbed in his touch.
his gaze is locked to your pretty lips, which are beginning to glisten like a flower kissed by morning dew as he brings your leaking arousal through them. he notices the way your clit is stiffening and twitching beneath his touch, a subtle sign that he should ignore. he should have moved on to the next part of the examination, but he can’t resist the allure of your hips instinctively rolling against his touch. he senses that you’re likely unaware of your own body’s response to grind against his fingers.
he emits a soft, displeased ‘tch’ at your answer, shaking his head as if disappointed in humanity.
“as your doctor, i advise being cautious with boys your age,” he speaks with a casual smoothness as you nod eagerly, eyes closed and teeth biting your lip, more a reaction to the escalating pleasure than to his words, your thoughts floating in blissful disarray. “unfortunately, they can cause some real harm to your body and lead to some serious issues.”
when you don’t answer, basically drooling in your own world, he speaks again.
“you want to ensure that your lovely anatomy remains in good health, don’t you?” he urges, his subtle compliment making your closed eyelids flutter as a tingle shoots through your lower abdomen, your back arching slightly.
you can’t tell if it’s just your imagination, but his fingers apply more pressure against the sensitive underside of your clit briefly as he speaks, sending a quick jolt of almost painful sensitivity coursing through you. it feels as though he’s intertwining his touch with the weight of his words, punishing you for your hesitation to respond and reminding you of the folly in even considering a fling with an immature guy.
you close your eyes tightly and quickly press a palm to your mouth as to not accidentally expose your perverted arousal growing impossible to ignore. the way he’s touching you so gently, its obvious he knows his way around pleasing a woman in his personal life— even if he’s simply feeling around for something potentially concerning.
“right,” you quickly babble stupidly through the muffling of your hand, “you’re right.”
it becomes painfully clear that you’re growing exceptionally wet because the squelching of your folds begins to echo loudly in the sterile room.
“it’s quite normal for your body to react to stimulus, if anything natural lubrication will aid in minimizing any potential discomfort,” he suddenly speaks on the elephant in the room, you think you can hear a hint of a smile in his tone, but you’re not certain enough to be sure. you were hoping he’d just ignore your growing wetness or even not notice it but it’s obviously too agonizingly obvious to ignore.
“i’m s-so sorry,” you mutter, mortified as you use both hands to cover your face as if that could make you disappear into them.
he chuckles deeply at your embarrassment, “it’s no problem, sweet girl. it’s normal, try to relax.”
his use of a pet name is obviously meant to ease your nerves but it only triples the amount of slick gushing out of you and being collected by his fingers to then coat your folds.
even if you wanted to respond, you don’t because you’re terrified that you’ll accidentally let a moan slip.
“i’m very glad to know lubrication isn’t the issue here, that can be quite frustrating for a patient— having to go on all kinds of pesky medications just to have sex,” he explains, and you’re barely even able to process his words so you simply hum with a frantic nod.
after a few more agonizing moments of his blissful touch, you sigh in relief and unclench your eyes when he finally halts and pulls his fingers away. saying its a relief that he halts his movements is an understatement because you’re pretty sure an orgasm was approaching in the distance if he continued the stimulus a little while longer— though you could never actually admit it to yourself.
“good news, i don’t feel anything unusual on the outside,” he gladly notifies you with a deep breath.
“o-oh that’s good,” you swallow hard, a heat creeping up your cheeks as his words hit home. you’ve been so caught up in primally chasing pleasure that you suddenly feel embarrassed for losing sight of the real reason you’re here: to make sure you’re healthy.
“i need to check internally now, which may cause some discomfort. i need you to take a deep breath and focus on my voice, okay?” he explains, a hint of sympathy in his gentle tone.
his words send your heart plummeting, the arousal quickly fading to the background as a wave of panic takes over. the thought of something unfamiliar or painful being inserted inside you becomes overwhelming, bringing back the humiliating memory of that guy’s frustrated expression when he couldn’t get his dick inside you.
“w-wait— what are you putting inside of me?” you stop him with urgency before he can even touch you again, sitting up on your elbows quickly to see, and you honestly wish you hadn’t because the sight of him between your spread thighs is horrifying and sexy all at once.
your fluster is obvious as he transfers his gaze from your pussy up to your worried face.
"it’ll just be my finger. i know this can be a bit scary," he says, placing a reassuring hand on your thigh, "—but it’s necessary for a proper diagnosis. I can’t promise it won’t be uncomfortable, but your natural lubrication should help. i’m glad we won’t need to use gel, it doesn’t work as well in reducing discomfort during insertion."
you gulp and blink at him with conflict. the idea that it might be painful scares you but the fact that it’s only his finger makes you feel a bit better. but now, not only are you worried about this process, arousal is sitting behind you, eagerly awaiting its turn for attention.
he examines your expression to make sure you’re okay, allowing you to gather the courage to speak.
“w-what if it won’t go in?” you question, timidly. you’re afraid of the possibility that even his finger won’t be able to push past your entrance like that guy, indicating that maybe something incurable is wrong with you instead of a condition that can be corrected.
he immediately smiles kindly at you with a soft sympathetic huff as his hand begins to rub comfortingly up and down your inner thigh. he feels so bad for you, a young, beautiful girl who’s obviously terrified of something being wrong with her body.
“i wouldn’t worry about that, i was already close to slipping into you before,” he coos, attempting to comfort you, making your eyes widen a bit. you think maybe you’re actually a raging pervert because his unintentionally lewd words make your chasm clench in need, forcing a bit of arousal to gush out of you, slowly begin to slide down to your other hole, and pool under you to inevitably drool down to the floor.
you inhale shakily and deeply before nodding.
“j-just go slow, please.”
he gently allows his sleek eyes to come close to shutting as he smiles at you with consideration and a short nod, but you don’t miss the way his jaw clenches with your words.
“if it helps, you can watch,” he offers, squeezing your thigh gently.
as you nod, he speaks again.
“here.” he raises his glistening, gloved fingers, then gently takes one of your hands and guides it to wrap around his thick middle finger.
“that’s all that will be inside of you,” he murmurs soothingly, his hand still gently holding yours, wrapped around his finger. “not too bad, right?”
the skin between your brows pinches momentarily as you look down at your hand enveloped by his. his finger is so long and thick compared to yours that half of it remains exposed, just beyond your grasp. you can’t tell how comforting that is in relation to the potential pain, but it certainly sends a flutter of butterflies through your lower abdomen.
“y-yeah,” you nod dumbly, “not too bad.”
he smiles and hums, gently taking his hands back to rest one back to your inner thigh while the other prepares to penetrate you.
“i’m just going to gently push past the tight ring of your entrance first, and then i’ll give you a moment to breathe, okay? stop me if it’s too uncomfortable.” his gaze flickers from you, down to your pussy in focus.
your breaths are shaky as you anticipate pain with an anxious pout. your sweet innocence makes his eyes soften as he gazes up at you.
“deep breath in,” he coos, making you breathe in deeply, “and out.”
the second you breathe out, he pushes his finger past your entrance quickly, keeping his eyes on your face as it contorts in a flinch. you gasp and stiffen at the stinging intrusion.
“shh, i know. on a scale of one to ten, how badly does it hurt?” he shushes you sweetly, keeping the tip of his finger unmoving in your chasm while his other hand rubs circles on your inner thigh.
“s-six,” you whine out, fists tight at your sides. the pain feels as though just the tip of his finger has cut open the bottom part of your opening.
“oh no,” he coos, making eye contact with your glistening eyes, “this might help.”
he then uses the hand on your thigh to gently rub circles into your clit, making your lips part as your eyes close in tandem with your brows raising softly in surprising comfort.
the way he moves against you now feels distinctly different from when he was simply examining your labia. his touch is more precise, focusing on the top sides of your clit, gently coaxing the hood to glide up and down instead of applying harsh pressure directly onto your clit. it’s as if he’s deliberately ensuring that each movement remains soothing rather than overwhelming, carefully avoiding any intensity that might tip into discomfort.
and it does help—more than just help, in fact. you can feel your core clenching with a growing yearning for more, pulling his finger in like a vacuum.
“better?” he inquires, still swiping at you as your thighs twitch and toes curl in the stirrups.
“t-that’s— fuck— i don’t kn—“ you whine, pathetically, unable to put your thoughts in order as he continues his work. he interrupts you with a cooing shush.
“good, it’s okay— shh, i’m going deeper now,” he briefly warns you before quickly pushing his middle finger in to the hilt, making you gasp loudly.
“o-ow— hurts,” you whine, opening your pouty eyes to see his low ones already on you.
“i know, i know. but you’re doing so good, sweet girl.” he soothes, quickening his pace on your clit to distract you.
“j-just hurry, please,” you grit out, biting back a moan as you watch him eye your pussy fluttering around his finger.
“of course. i’m gonna start moving and pressing down now. you’ll feel pressure, bare with me.” he explains, licking his lips as your arousal pools around his finger and drools onto the floor. geto is trying so hard to be professional but your virgin pussy is so tight and wet, as if it’s just inviting him in to play.
he then begins to move his finger within you, prodding against every one of your walls with exploration, likely a bit harder than he really has to, making you whine and jolt. when his finger pushes up against your top wall, your pussy clenches hard and you can’t help but let out a surprised whimper.
“so tight,” he breathes out to himself, astonished. it’s as if he didn’t know he said it out loud making your lidded gaze snap wide open at him with concern.
“w-what?” you ask, a flicker of concern washing over you as the possibility of having the condition he mentioned sinks in. what’s usually a compliment to most women feels more like an insult to you now.
his gaze immediately flickers up at you, a bit of surprise lacing his eyes that you actually heard him as he clears his throat.
“oh— nothing,” he chuckles, almost nervously, “you’re just a bit tight down here, it’s difficult to examine properly.”
“oh, you scared me,” your eyes soften and you sigh. he also sighs in relief but not for the same reasons.
“do me a favor and lay back for me,” he softly commands and you obey as you breathe deeply.
“i’m gonna try to open you up, stay down. do not get up unless i ask of you, okay?” he explains seriously, making your brows furrow.
“u-um why?” you ask, curiously.
“you’re much more open laying down. i’m about to push harder against your walls and i’m afraid it will hurt you if you sit up,” he explains, slightly breathy. you nod at the ceiling and gulp in preparation.
then, he takes his fingers off of your clit and replaces it with something warm and wet. and at the same time, he begins to move his finger inside of you, curling against your top wall harshly.
you gasp out in shock, gasp only turning into whiny cries as the wet thing on your clit begins to move against it. it almost feels like a tongue licking at your clit like an ice cream cone but you quickly shake your head of that idea; he’s a doctor, he’d never do such a thing. you wouldn’t know what a tongue feels like on your pussy anyways so you dumbly assume it’s one of their contraptions to help with penetration. and fuck, does it help.
still, you find yourself biting your bottom lip harshly as your hands softly hit against the bed under you in attempt to cope with the aggressive administrations to your insides. you wouldn’t be surprised if your lower tummy is twitching in a bulge, showing how vehemently he’s striking your top wall.
and when a shameful orgasm begins to approach with haste and you whine in panic as your back arches against your will.
“ngh!— stop! i’m— stop!” you plead, trying your best not to close your legs or sit up in fear of it being painful like he warned.
his movements halt abruptly at your begging, pulling the wet thing away from your clit and stopping so his finger is unmoving inside of you.
geto doesn’t need to ask what’s wrong, he knows how your body works and the signs of your approaching orgasm are more clear than most of the women he’s fucked.
“i’m so close to finding what i need, are you sure you’d like me to stop?” he inquires, voice deep and raspy. you aren’t entirely sure because of how aggressive his finger was moving inside of you before but it feels as though it’s still so subtly moving in and out of you, keeping your orgasm just teetering on the edge.
you’d rather die than admit you’re close to orgasm in a doctors office and in a paper dress with your feet in stirrups so instead, you make up an excuse.
“it just— hurts and—”
“but if we stop, i wont be able to diagnose you, y/n. are you okay leaving here today without knowing? i’d like to help you, but you need to let me,” he coos, almost impatiently. his words spark a bit of anxiety within you, making you feel as though it would be your fault if you don’t gain a proper exam.
you whine quietly, unable to decide. it’s so difficult to think with his digit still inside of you. you aren’t sure if you can even fend off an orgasm if you choose to keep going, but doctor geto’s words make you feel pressure to continue, for your health.
your whine in indecision makes him coo at you, “i know it’s scary— but your health is more important than your embarrassment.”
you know he’s right, though you think he doesn’t know that it’s more than just embarrassment holding you back, it’s more the fear of cumming all over him.
“how much longer?” you choke out, preparing to endure more.
if you were able to see the diabolical smile on geto’s face as you give in, you’d be running out of here and never coming back, maybe even leaving a bad review on yelp.
geto doesn’t behave this way; he never has. he’s always honored the vulnerability of his patients when they lie exposed on the exam table, maintaining an unwavering commitment to professionalism and respect. he understands the trust they place in him, and he’s never crossed that line before.
but with you, everything feels different. you’re not only an attractive young woman; you’re naive, so visibly nervous from the idea of him seeing and touching your most vulnerable spots, and it’s been clear from the second he entered the room that you’re attracted to him. he’s never had a patient so visibly affected by his touch, so sticky and wet, and it’s challenging him to uphold the composure he prides himself on.
“not too much longer; try to relax your body. you’re quite tense around me, but every time your muscles ease up, i get closer to collecting what i need for an accurate diagnosis.”
you curse at yourself mentally as you tap your fingers against the table, “i don’t really know how to make my muscles ‘ease up.’”
he hums, “that’s okay, i can help. what do you imagine when you masterbate?”
your eyes snap wide open at the ceiling and you flush in embarrassment.
“h-huh? what do you mean? why?”
“ah, i know. it seems odd but there’s a study that shows a woman’s vaginal muscles seem to become more flexible when imagining arousing scenarios or situations,” he chuckles, casually.
“oh,” you chirp, hands going to grip the sides of your gown into tight fists.
he allows a beat of silence so you can think on it, relishing in the way your pussy likes to hug his finger every now and then, like it’s begging to be pleased by him.
“i’ll try, you can keep going,” you timidly notify him.
“well, i can help if you’d like,” he says softly, “what do you usually imagine that arouses you the quickest? try to be as specific as you can.”
you swallow hard and shut your eyes, desperately trying to shield yourself from the humiliation of confessing something so intimate to your doctor, tricking your mind into believing it’s just a casual chat with friends like he said earlier.
“i think about,” you begin slowly, “a stranger, a man sitting beside me somewhere in public—”
as you speak, geto starts to slowly work his finger back up to a good pace, cock twitching painfully as your words begin to waver into a whine as he rubs against your g-spot.
“mhm,” he hums, urging you to continue, “and what does he do to you?”
“—he starts to touch me,” you gasp softly, fisting your gown as that wet thing starts to lap at your pulsing clit once more, “and he doesn’t even look— ngh— at me, he just shoves his hand into my panties and plays with me.”
“and what do you do?” he eggs you on, and perhaps if you weren't so caught up in the steadily building wave of pleasure, you might have noticed how when he speaks, that warm, wet sensation is momentarily lifted from your clit.
“i try to stop him by pulling at his arm but,” you let out a breathy moan as the wet thing starts to suckle on your clit, “—but there are so many people around and i don’t want them to know.”
“no, you can’t make it stop,” he coos in faux sympathy, as if roleplaying to further delve you into your fantasy. being so aroused at this point, you don’t even notice him slipping another finger in to join the assault on your guts. “but you can try.”
before you fully comprehend what’s happening, he guides one of your hands down, wrapping your fingers around the wrist of the hand that’s fucking inside you. it feels surreal, as if he’s weaving your fantasy into reality. the warmth of his contracting, veiny wrist contrasts with the coolness of the exam table.
“no, i can’t make it stop,” you repeat his words in a pathetic cry of pleasure, your orgasm approaching closer as his pace becomes violent and the wet thing around your clit start to flick at it abusively while latched on like lips suckling on a nipple. every ounce of shame you have transforms into a disturbingly taboo fuel, amplifying your pleasure in ways you never anticipated.
the only sound in the room are your moans and squelching, but you can feel a deep, rumbling groan reverberate against your clit as your grip on his wrist weakly attempts to pull him out like in your fantasy. before you have a chance to process what that means, your orgasm crashes over you, painting your vision white. embarrassing sounds of ecstasy escape your lips, tinged with desperation, as your nails dig into his wrist, leaving crescent moons in their wake.
your body convulses in a chaotic rhythm, alternating between curling inward and arching outward. each wave of pleasure sends soft involuntary jerks through you, leaving your abdomen taut and quivering.
“that’s it,” he coos against you, and you’re just so fucked stupid on his huge fingers stretching you out that the logic you’d use to deduce that his tongue and mouth is the contraption suckling at your clit evaporates as your high ensues.
as your cries and jerks begin to fade, your fingers loosen their grip on his wrist, and you take deep, shuddering breaths, gradually descending from your peak. he slows his fingers within, matching the retreat of your high, his touch now gentle as the waves of pleasure ebb away.
“you did so good, little one.” he finally withdraws his fingers, letting out a low hum of satisfaction as he brings his tongue to lie flat against your opening. with deliberate slowness, he licks up the sticky essence that escapes as his reward, savoring each rhythmic pulse from your hole. there’s an almost tender appreciation in his tongues caress as he feels your body instinctively attempt to draw in sperm with its contracting muscles. it’s a sight that stirs a primal urge within him, and he can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for your poor, empty pussy, yearning for that load of cum it so desperately seeks.
you hiss in a mix of pleasure and overstimulation, your hands flying to pull at his soft hair as he grows more fervent, his mouth devouring your lips with an almost primal intensity. it’s as if he’s an animal caught in a wild frenzy, intent on savoring every last drop of you, much like a creature would clean its mate after an intimate breeding. the warmth of his tongue and lips making out with your folds, tracing patterns, sends shockwaves through your body.
“o-ow!” you whine, though it’s more of a pathetic call of pleasure that’s just too intense to handle, “t-too much! doctor geto, please—”
it’s embarrassing, truly, that the call of his professional name is what finally snaps him out of his haze, retracting his mouth from your intimate parts that are now just swollen and irritated with stimulation, drooling a sticky mess onto the tile floor between his feet.
he clears his throat and wipes his mouth with his handkerchief as you let go of his now messy hair and fall back on the bed with deep breaths, eyebrows pinched in utter relief.
after a moment of silence, punctuated only by your labored breaths, he stands and fastens a button on his doctor's coat, striving to maintain a veneer of professionalism while discreetly concealing his raging hard on.
“you did um— very well, made my job much easier. you can sit up now,” he says gently as he softly pulls your legs from the stirrups to hang over the edge of the bed once again, a tint of sympathy in his tone after what he just did to a young, naive, sweet girl.
the way you muster all your remaining strength to sit up, trying to play it cool as if you hadn’t just cum as hard as you did —like he might not have noticed—is simply adorable.
“d-did you find out what i have?” you question weakly with a visible humiliation on your face, he can only imagine how much you’re beating yourself up for allowing yourself to cum as a doctor just simply does his ‘job.’
you gulps and takes a deep breath before peeling off his drenched gloves and tossing them into the bin in the corner and shoving his hands into his pockets as he faces you once again.
“yes,” he nods, “i know exactly what you have and before you get nervous, don’t worry. it’s curable with proper treatment.”
your eyes light up with hope, tinged with relaxation from the afterglow as your legs shake subtly in sensitivity.
“what is it?”
“well, it’s similar to the condition i told you about but this one is a bit different. your vagina needs proper training for a few months,” he explains with utter professionalism, as if the lower half of his face isn’t still wet with your juices.
“w-what kind of training?” you ask with a gulp, fingers fidgeting.
satoru- I’ll make it fit- gojo and the smug grin that tugs at the corners of hips lips as he tries to bully the last couple of inches of his fat cock inside of you. its a tight fit but he'll make it work. he always does.
"its... its not gonna f-fit, toru" you whine, attempting to push your way up the bed, and escape the painful stretch as satoru’s cock fills you up. you can feel him in your belly and it’s really making it hard to think straight. your hand comes down in a futile attempt to push at his abs, and satoru cant help but sigh.
the two of you go through this every night. every night he has to hear you gone on and on about how he's too big, how he won't fit but every night you're betrayed by your own cunt, that seems to suck him in deeper and deeper despite your words.
"baby" he coos as he swats your hand away from him and pushes in just a little deeper, trying to keep himself from just pushing you down and forcing you to take it, like his horny brain is screaming at him to do.
he brings his thumb down to rub messy circles on your sticky clit to try and take your attention away from the stinging pain in your core. he can tell it works when he hears you moan, your head thrown back as your walls squeeze down tightly around him.
"just relax, and i'll make it fit like i always do" he thrusts his hips, pushing his cock deeper into you and allowing you to pull him down flush against your chest as your arms scramble for purchase around his neck.
soon, the pain from the stretch turns into white hot pleasure as satoru pulls out and pushes right back in, deeper and deeper than the last until he’s finally all the way in, keeping up the assault on your swollen clit.
you’re so lost in the pleasure by this point that you don’t even realize he’s finally bottomed out until he’s forcing your attention down to where the two of you are connected when he grinds up against you, letting his cock drag along your walls.
you look down to the bump that appears and disappears in your tummy with each slow drag of satoru’s hips, breath hitching when he presses down on it. t
📌 First things first, FOMO is the death to greatness, focusing on yourself will never be a disservice to your life! You’re not missing out on anything that won’t be there when you’re finished. What’s meant for you, is designed to work out in your favor! Stay focused! We are so proud of you! 🩷
🗓️ Create a Schedule: Start by creating a realistic schedule that includes dedicated time for studying, self-care, and fitness. Allocate specific time slots for each activity, and stick to your schedule as much as possible. It might seem hard at first but you got this! It take 66 days to form a habit. Before you know it the routine your avoid will become the lifestyle you want and desire.
🧖🏽♀️ Prioritize Self-Care: Make self-care a priority in your daily routine. This can include activities like meditation, journaling, taking breaks, or engaging in hobbies that help you relax and recharge. Start small, come up with a short morning self care routine (listen to a podcast/motivational speaker, apply your SPF, and treat yourself with coffee oh and don’t forget your water bottle!) or a short night routine (write about your day and what you are grateful for, take a nice shower and apply body oil as you debrief to your favorite show on Netflix) If you have more time do more self care but at least do 2 things that will make you relax.
🏋🏿♀️ Incorporate Fitness Into Your Routine: School can be stressful! Becoming best friends with the gym not only benefits your physical health but your mental health as well! Look at it like this: You’re putting time into the two things that can transform your life for the better, your mind and your body! Find ways to incorporate physical activity into your daily routine. This could be through joining a gym, taking fitness classes, or even going for a walk or run. Aim for at least 30 minutes of exercise most days of the week. You’re going to look and feel like the IT Girl of your dreams 😉
⏳ Time Management Techniques: I know, I know… there’s only so much time in a day how can you slay in class, give yourself the princess treatment and exercise 🤯 Babe, it’s okay. We got you. Try this: Use time management techniques such as the Pomodoro Technique or time blocking to stay focused and efficient during study sessions with burning out! This will help you make the most of your study time and avoid wasting time.
🏆 Set Realistic Goals: Set realistic goals for your academic, self-care, and fitness activities. Break them down into smaller, manageable tasks, and celebrate your achievements along the way. This will help you stay motivated and track your progress. the key to this entire list is: Small yet efficient. Break it down but be consistent.
🧘🏾♀️ Practice Mindfulness: Incorporate mindfulness into your daily routine. Mindfulness exercises, such as deep breathing or mindful meditation, can help reduce stress and improve focus. Our most recommended practice is PRAYING! Give it to God and take time to surround yourself with the word.
💤 Get Adequate Sleep: Beauty sleep matters! Make sure you prioritize getting enough sleep each night. A good night's sleep is essential for your overall well-being and will help you stay focused and energized throughout the day. Stop pointlessly scrolling on Tiktok until 2am, infact if your reading this past 10pm, go to bed 😂 Sweet dreams, We love you too.
💗 Seek Support: Don't hesitate to seek support from friends, family, or college resources when needed. They can provide guidance, encouragement, and help you navigate any challenges you may face. Dont be ashamed about it either! **note: wandering aimlessly and stretching yourself too thin, the idea of being excessively self-reliant is overvalued ‼️
Remember, finding balance takes time and practice, so be patient with yourself. By incorporating these tips into your routine, you can build discipline, eliminate stress, and ensure that you're making the most of your college experience.
The draft: Wrong. I am the pilot chapter of a multichapter fic that you do not have the bandwidth to take on, but will haunt your every waking thought anyway.
A/n: For all my weird tumblr smut AO3 girls
Synopsis: No one expects the weird girl to have such a good pussy.
Warnings: Male whimpering, squirting, pussy drunk men, pervert y/n, unprotected sex
No one suspects the weird girl to be a perverted fiend.
No one suspects the weird girl who reads AO3 and Tumblr on the bus and has key chains of their favorite chibi anime guy. No one suspects the girl who fumbles over their words during a presentation, the girl who goes to classes in sweaters and sweatpants, the girl who spends her time daydreaming about fictional scenarios. No one suspects the girl who always seems shy and sweet, only to have a secret stash of explicit fanfiction hidden on her phone, the kind that would make even the most confident person turn red.
And of course, no one expects the weird girl to have such good pussy.
So when the confident, smooth-talking guy gets you in his bedroom, how the hell is it possible that he is trembling from pleasure just from slipping his tip in?
"Fuck, I c-can’t—" he groans, his voice breaking as he stumbles over the words. His usual cool demeanor is completely shattered, replaced with breathless gasps and desperate sounds. His head is thrown back, neck taut, and his eyes are screwed shut like he’s trying to hold onto every ounce of composure, terrified that if he opens them, the mind-numbing pleasure coursing through him will slip away. Every time your pussy squeezes around his aching dick his body trembles uncontrollably, muscles tensing and relaxing in waves as he tries to keep himself together.
"Look at me," you coo, your voice steady despite the pounding of your own heart. You may be practically a virgin, but you're by no means an idiot. Hours of reading smut, scrolling through Twitter porn threads, and indulging in endless fantasies have taught you more than you'd ever admit. You've spent too many nights alone, lost in stories and scenes where you imagined yourself in control, learning every filthy detail in your mind until it felt like second nature. So now, laying here with him unraveling over you, you're anything but inexperienced.
He locks eyes with you, big and desperate and you cup his perfect face with trembling hands.
"You're mine tonight ok?" you whisper, bringing him in just enough for your breath to tickle his lips, your voice low and dripping with confidence you didn't know you had. "Every sound, every breath—your mine."
"F-fuck, y-yeah I'm yours" he groans, accentuating his words with a sharp thrust right into your cervix, knocking the wind out of you.
"Mmm!" You cry. It’s painful, but in the pain is so much pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides in and out of you, gripping the sheets with his supporting hand as your hot, wet entrance swallows his cock. Instinctively, you're cunt squeezed around the foreign intrusion, trying to push it out, making him let out a low groan of his own as he thrusts even deeper into you.
“Y/n I-I can feel you doing it to me,” he says hoarsely.
His fingers gently press into the skin of your hip, guiding and steadying you as he pulls back and thrusts into you. The sudden friction and collision with your G-spot makes your brain go fuzzy. Ticklish pleasure courses through your veins and you immediately throw your head back against the wall as he rams into you.
"Hnghh, s-so good~~" You whine. It was dizzying, the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up.
Simultaneously, his other hand sought yours, finding it with a purposeful tenderness. His fingers intertwined with yours, locking them together in a grip that was both a clasp and a caress.
"Were we doing it like this in your head baby?" He grunts, his Adam apple bobs as he groans from the pleasure of how fucking heavenly your pussy feels. "Because this is how we were doing it in mine." He felt good? Try euphoric. How could it be possible that pussy feels this good?
You can't even open your mouth to respond. The friction of his dick against your walls is just too good and as his pace intensified, a dizzying warmth spread through you, filling every corner of your being with a euphoric haze. The sensation of being completely enveloped, utterly connected, sent electric flesh arrows of pleasure through your body, making your eyes flutter and roll back slightly in sheer bliss. Every motion he makes, every time his fat tip collides with your cervix, leaves behind a trail of sparkling heat that seems to light you from within.
And of course, no one expects the weird girl to be a squirter.
You don't know whats happening and you don't have enough to warn him. Release washed over you in an all-encompassing wave, radiating out from your core to the very tips of your fingers and toes. It swept through you like a storm, leaving a trail of starbursts in its wake. Your body arched instinctively, clinging to him as the wave crested, then gently, slowly, began to ebb.
He stills his motion and watches through wide eyes as clear liquid sprays onto his abdomen and you tremble and moan. As you floated back down from the heights of bliss, your breath came easier, softer, the lingering aftershocks of pleasure pulsing gently through you.
The concept of weird girl pussy, y/n who is not some conventionally attractive bimbo, y/n who reads smut on the train ride home and loves anime. Y/n who has the type of fashion taste that blends with the crowd. Y/n who has A03 and tumblr as their most searched. Y/n who despite being by all means a ‘weirdo’, is somehow blessed with the most eye rolling toe curling pussy. The type of pussy a big strong cocky man like Sukuna whimper when he only slips the tip in. The type of pussy that has Gojo nearly busting inside from a single thrust. The type that has Geto scrunching his eyes shut because Jesus Christ he’s seeing colors.
These men have never begged for sex in their life but here they are looking at you with puppy dog eyes.
✟ the liturgy: (summary) Even the most pious of men succumb to temptation and Father Kento is no exception... especially when it comes to you. (Priest!Nanami POV)
✟ the confession: (tw) dark themes, sacrilege, adultery, blasphemy, jealously, exhibitionism, blackmail/manipulation, heavy biblical references, cunnalingus, fingering, riding dick, shoe fucking, blow jobs, panty sniffing, olfactophilia, dacryphilia, lightly suggested altarboy!yuji (aged-up) x reader, oil tycoon!gojo x reader, suggested mentions of reader x other jjk men, corruption, masturbation and angst as you are literally tormenting this poor priest (lol).
✟ the sins: (wc) 4.1k
✟ the opening rites:(a/n) i grew up catholic (got confirmed too) and went to catholic school but haven't stepped inside a church in literal years. i was honestly surprised how many bible references came so easily from pure memory while writing this.
Sanctified conviction radiates off Father Kento as he approaches the inordinately adorned wood carved pulpit with authority to address his congregation.
Despite the uncomfortable Summer heat there is no lack of attendance, a sea of familiar faces packed into the small town chapel. The buzzing song of cicadas and soft oscillation of the large fan circulating humid air through the church are the only sounds heard as the masses eagerly await his homily.
You were among them of course.
Sitting front and center– a small saccharine smile graced your lips while your doe-like eyes, captivated and attentive, were made even bigger as they raised to the podium to meet his own.
Bible open, Father Kento takes a full breath pause before he finally speaks, his gaze is benevolent yet his voice is firm as it projects over the congregation.
“Dear Brothers and Sisters– Let us reflect on the gospel of First Corinthians Chapter 10 Verse 13…and The Lord says– ‘There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man—”
Oh but you– you were anything but common– and irregardless of any higher standing his status as a clergy member bestowed upon him he was still a man of flesh and blood.
No matter the effort exerted, Father Kento had been unable to keep his eyes from yours during the service. The magnetism of unknown and certainly unholy forces drew him to you time and again without fail.
No beauty in town rivaled yours, not with an angelic countenance that complemented your delicate features so gracefully in your every action.
Yours was a form of divine femininity rivaling that of Venus herself.
If that wasn’t beguiling enough, your honeyed voice and syrupy words had the ability to sway even the most feral of temperaments. Leaving those who heard it at your mercy like a gentle but deadly siren.
“—but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able—”
Is God faithful?
Ironic how you had Father Kento questioning the very foundations of his own faith while simultaneously indoctrinating God’s dogma to his faithful parishioners.
If you were a test he had failed.
Many times.
Even the first man, Adam, had fallen to Eve’s allures and not even the warrior strength of Samson was able to overcome Delilah’s seductions.
Who was he to prevail where the biblical idols had fallen?
What actual grace could God give man against the sensual temptation that he had carved from man’s own rib?
Father Kento had felt forsaken of God’s grace ever since you had approached him after mass to quietly request the rites of confession. He should have refused when you kindly solicited him to perform them in the cooler confines of the secluded rectory over the oven-like heat of a chapel confessional box in summer.
Led astray so effortlessly by your genial charms as you looked to him like a lamb lost and addressed him so meekly as “Father Kento”. He would have just as easily given you access to heaven then if it were in his power.
Yet it was you who had so graciously led him to the gates of Zion— which so conveniently happened to reside in the velvety depths between your thighs.
Consequently, the only sins that were confessed in the rectory that day were the moist squelches of your peach-ripened pussy gushing around his cock and coalescing with the frenzied sounds of hot flesh slapping together in unison.
A child of Lilth incarnate to be sure but you looked so pure and celestial, even in ecstasy.
Hair matted to the sides of your face drenched in sweat while your nimble hands clutched onto his clerical collar. Your eyes filled with such loving devotion and you rode him earnestly as if it was your life’s penance.
Father Kento in turn gives you his absolution by taking you from behind. The swell of your plump rear rippling against his hips and shared fluids splashing onto his hard abdomen feverishly drive him closer to God than he’d ever been.
Yes, he is weak.
But Father Kento held the conviction that not even The Vicar of Christ, the Pope himself would be able to resist the vice grip of your silken cunt as if its true purpose was never to bear life but to wring out the very essence of the soul of man.
He’d fallen prey to a day-walking succubus on hallowed holy grounds.
No– Father Kento was certain if this church had ever truly been blessed as a house of God you would have caught aflame the moment you graced its threshold.
“—but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye are able to bear it’.”
Father Kento concluded the passage. Nonetheless, neither it nor any other doctrine had provided him the solace of escape and nor biblical strength did he receive to endure against his temptations.
There was no resisting you.
There was no escaping you.
For anyone you cast your sights on.
This is exemplified by the obvious effect you have on the young alter boy Yuji.
Barely old enough to be called a man, the youth's entire body flinches whenever you spare a sweet glance in his direction.
Has Yuji’s innocence already been stolen?
Father Kento must quell the inkling of jealousy at the thought lest he stumble over his words and shame himself further.
He was a man in every sense of the word and a man of the cloth, he would not compete for your adulterous affections with his own altar boy.
Even so, Father Kento’s lip does curl in disapproval at the deep flush of guilt on Yuji’s cheeks. Yuji clumsily trips over his own feet, nearly permitting the blessed vessels for the rites of eucharist to fall to the ground.
Harlot! Have you really allowed someone other than himself to bathe in the sins of Jezebel?
Maintaining composure through his sermon, Father Kento reminds himself that an inexperienced youth is no threat.
However it is more than likely Yuji– who normally is so oblivious in nature– had likewise become aware of the wicked exhibition of sacrilege occurring beneath the prayer cloth in your lap at the very hands of your own husband– Satoru Gojo.
“So you may ask where does that leave us as followers of Christ? Temptations lure us into doing, saying or thinking something that does not reflect who we really are as sons and daughters of God.”
Neither you nor your husband were Christ’s children so none of these ideologies applied to either of you.
Nefarious philistines the both of you– godless and immoral.
Although Father Kento was for certain your husband, Oil Tycoon, Satoru Gojo– was the only one whose deeds could put yours to shame.
The white haired devil had descended upon the quiet small town like a thief in the night to greedily capture the first few drops of black gold that surged from the earth before it could even fall to the ground. Quickly buying up land and resources, in less than a fortnight Gojo essentially had control over the entire town– its priest included.
But as he became more wealthy, so did the town and its people. Satoru Gojo built up the town around him to match his own gluttony for opulence, taking the town and its people away from simple old time comforts and into the more complex modern age.
Therefore the man was seen as a saintly savior, rather than the lecherous leech he truly was.
To Father Kento’s credit, if he deserved any at all– he had initially held strong in his faith.
He was not a man tempted by the power that would come from a promotion to bishop if a larger church was built. Nor was he tempted by monetary gain. The treasures he had always held most valuable were only those to be found in God’s kingdom.
Familiar with the tricks masked by flamboyant arrays of grandior, Father Kento’s folly had been his own headstrong vainglory in being a man above the lures of temptation. Thus he failed in recognizing you as the seductive snake in sheep's clothing the cunning tycoon Gojo had sent to be his undoing.
And you had never once failed to unravel him.
Even now Father Kento struggles to keep himself together as you inconspicuously lean against your husband, your head resting gently on his shoulder while the dainty fan you are holding obscures the lower half of your face.
What appears as an innocuous attempt to halt the perspiration rolling from your nape into your heaving bosom is merely a front to hide the sinful ‘o’ your cherry lips form.
Your chest softly heaves although your labored breaths aren’t from the humid heat shrouding the church– but the increasing warmth dampening in your loins. All which had been provoked by your husband slipping two fingers through the buttons of your thin sundress and into your pussy, lightly teasing its gooey folds. Gojo’s movements are mostly concealed by the cloth but Father Kento can make out the skillful circular motions stroking your spongy bud and causing the sporadic twitch in your knees.
You had writhed similarly under him. You were always far too sensitive.
Fat tears would never fail to pour from your bright eyes when he would latch his mouth onto your sex. You would be his last supper if ever given the choice. If heaven had a flavor it would surely be akin to the taste of your pink candied cunt and he knew of no sweeter treat on earth.
Twas no wonder then how Father Kento easily loses all sense of self when flicking his tongue into your gaping slit. Swirling the appendage within your gummy walls he gluttonously slurps down the steady stream of your flowing nectar.
Your mewls and cries for him are far lovelier than even the song of cherubim. Father Kento has committed them to memory and as such he knows when they reach a certain octave– your pitch so high it's practically soundless– you're nearing your nirvana.
Arriving at your peak you would thread your hands through his blonde locks and thrust your hips forward as if his mouth were salvation itself. Your manicured nails would dig into his scalp to rock his head deeper into your plump pussy. The actions would beckon his tongue to finally give you its mercy by dragging it flat up your folds to suckle and nip at your swollen clit.
You never called on God then.
Nor your husband.
Only Father Kento.
Coincidentally, Father Kento’s gaze locks with Gojo’s for a brief moment and Gojo’s pale lips curl into smirk.
A fleeting look is shared before contact is broke but the message is clear:
Satoru Gojo own’s everything in this town.
Gojo owns your cunt.
Your cunt owns Father Kento.
Therefore by proxy Gojo owns him.
The revelation has Father Kento showing the white of his knuckles from the intensity of his grip on the pulpit podium as you simultaneously release a silent scream brazenly cumming on your husband’s dexterous fingers in the middle of mass.
“The time now is propitious for us all to make a journey of conversion, led by sincere faith to allow ourselves to be confronted with the Gospel. Let us confirm this commitment by sharing in The Body and The Blood of Christ.”
Proceeding with communion the altar boy Yuji stands next to Father Kento holding the tray where the blessed chalice of wine and platter of thin wafers reside as the congregation dutifully exits their rows to receive the eucharist.
As it is the more modern way to receive communion the majority of the congregation choses to place their non-dominant palm up over the other to respectfully receive the host. Yet traditionally, the priest placed the blessed wafer directly on the tongue of the one receiving. This practice was typically only seen by the elderly, the most exceedingly pious and of course— you.
When it is your turn to approach you beam brightly as you and all your beauty seem to float before him.
“The Body of Christ.”
Father Kento raises the host before you.
“Amen.”
You obediently replied.
Like expected your eyes fluttered to close as your pillowy lips parted in order to accept the host directly in your mouth.
God help him, this was the most sacred part of mass but the way your deviant tongue lulls out hot and thick with your saliva pooled on the edge and threatening to spill onto your lips has Father Kento shifting at his post.
You look just as compliant and yearning to receive as when you had been on your knees before him taking his cock in your mouth whole.
Father Kento delicately placed the host in your mouth in a similar fashion as to when he would tap the tip of his bulbous leaking cockhead onto your tongue.
So willing to please you kiss his angry red mushroom tip to appease his cock, swirling your tongue over the tiny hole before puckering it between your lips to greedily suck any drops of pre that dribbled forth as you pumped his base.
You were a tease.
That much was evident both then and now as you extended the tip of your tongue to caress the tip of his finger. A tiny kitten lick, but nevertheless a tingle ran through his cock in remembrance.
“The Blood of Christ.”
Father Kento presents the wine symbolizing the blood before you.
“Amen.”
Again you closed your eyes and allowed Father Kento to press the chalice against your parted lips.
The very picture of amenability, you actually enjoyed when he went rougher on you as a result of your teasing. Father Kento would gather your hair into a tight grip as he not-so-gently rammed his cock past your tonsils and down your throat.
It was unnatural and ungodly for a person to lack any semblance of a gag reflex such as you.
In response you pressed your fingers into his thighs– not as a means of resistance, but to control your own lust as you began shamelessly humping your mound against his leg. You were always desperate to feel any small sensation against your cunt while he ravaged your mouth.
Of course, Father Kento would oblige you and in turn he is rewarded with the heavy moans that would vibrate around his cock as his oxford loafer pushed up into your soaked core. Your white lace lingerie did little to contain your juices and as such Father Kento made use of the fluids leaking from your pussy as polish to shine his shoe.
Having sipped the wine from the chalice you peer up at Father Kento as if seeking his approval.
He gives you a small nod.
Similar to the one he bestows upon you after his seed has filled your stomach and you lick your lips as if it was his essence and not The Blood of Christ that lingered on them.
In the beginning, he had prayed long and hard to forget those sinful images of you that would intrude unwelcomed into his mind.
Yet you always had ways of sucking him back in.
Such as leaving your soiled panties stuffed between his headboard. Father Kento thought he was going mad when even after changing the sheets thrice was he still plagued with your smell.
He should have burned the offensive garment as soon as it was discovered and yet he treated it with reverence as if it were a holy object of salvation. Truly an euphoric experience, on days he couldn’t have you he’d bury his nose into the fabric murmuring blasphemy as he worshiped the very scent of you while jerking his cock.
When Father Kento finally ceased trying to resist you he then had the fleeting thought he could save you. Bring you to God and away from your villainous husband.
But you were no Mary Magdalene, there was no returning you to the flock.
You will not leave your husband who provides you wealth and security. Father Kento is not so enamored he holds illusions that extend beyond his reality. There is nothing Father Kento owns and nothing he can offer you but himself.
The singular consolation of the tragic circumstances is that Father Kento is sure you prefer his touch. The touch of a seemingly pious man who only has desires for you.
Unlike your scoundrel of a husband who Father Kento was sure had not remained faithful to your marriage bed. Not the way most of the female townsfolk threw themselves at Satoru Gojo. If he had no qualms using you to achieve his means he certainly had none for himself.
You were simply a pawn to be played, as was Father Kento.
“Before we depart I leave you with these words: Let every day be a new day to renew the promises of our Baptism: We renounce Satan and all his works and seductions — for sh– *ahem* HE – is the seducer. Now go forth, Brothers and Sisters and remain true in the light of God.”
The closing rites over, Father Kento has never been more relieved nor eager for the conclusion of a mass. Watching the congregation mingle in the entrance, he gives his farewell blessings to the parishioners.
A few still remained however you were nowhere to be seen.
This was not odd, the Gojos were a busy couple, likely excusing themselves immediately to attend to more important affairs.
Or so he hoped.
“There you are, Father! Riveting service, as always.”
With a devious grin and a firm drawn-out handshake Gojo greets Father Kento. Turning to face the devil himself, Father Kento greets Satoru in turn with a strained smile and an even firmer grip.
Yet still he is unable to show you any of the wrath you justly deserve and Father Kento’s smile is more genuine when he faces you.
You regard Father Kento coyly as your husband’s arm tightens around your waist. Your face is flushed and it’s evident you are still weakened from the orgasm your husband gave you earlier in front of the entire congregation.
That knowledge though is only held by the three of you, God and perhaps the altar boy Yuji.
Father Kento had never known you to be silent when cumming so the exertion of the effort you expended likely weighed heavy on you as displayed by how you are clinging to Gojo to keep from swaying on your feet.
“Thank you. I am but a humble messenger of The Lord’s wor–.”
“– Wait. Hold that thought!”
Father Kento’s eyebrow twitches as Gojo's attention is momentarily called elsewhere.
Every Sunday, a growing number of parishioners would seek Satoru Gojo’s greeting and recognition after service over that of their priest Father Kento.
True to character Gojo makes an obnoxious show of charisma which leaves the last group of parishioners fawning and singing his praises as they exit.
“Forgive me, Father. Where were we? Ah– Of course! Yes, you are quite excellent in your delivery of God’s word, a true testament to your faith!”
His flattery is so obviously false in its sincerity that Father Kento is not surprised when Gojo’s sordid smirk returns.
“But you are not only a messenger for The Lord… isn’t that right, Father Kento?”
Father Kento warily clutches onto the large cross dangling from the rosary around his neck as Gojo continues.
“I’ll need you to spread mine as well. Haven’t you heard? I have plans to run for Mayor.”
Mayor.
The diabolical fiend truly knew no limits in his quest for control over the town.
“I’ll need you to come over to dinner tonight to consult with the rest of my top supporters.”
Father Kento steeled himself..
There was nothing he could do to stop Satoru Gojo from being mayor but his infatuation with you aside, he could not walk straight into the lion's den to collude with heathens.
It would be the final nail in his coffin, Gojo would indeed own his soul.
“Oh! Y/N is prepping a feast too… aren’t you, angel?”
Gojo’s grip on your waist trails lower to palm the fat of your ass and you clutch on to him tighter as you nod eagerly in agreement, biting your lip as his large hands knead into your cheeks through your wispy dress.
Your body is ever responsive to Gojo’s touch just like he trained you to be.
“I must refuse. I have duties here to attend, I couldn’t poss–”
“P-Please F-Father…”
And just like that your delicate voice cuts through his iron defenses like it were warm butter.
“…K-Kento, p-please come!”
Your request fumbles out of your lips as a cry as Gojo’s devilish fingers dip past your ass to prod at your cunt.
“You heard her Father. She wants you to come. Break bread with us, you will be among friends. Friends who know how to share, yeah? I’ll even share a piece of her cream pie for dessert.”
That had been the final straw. Gojo had gone too far this time.
You seeking him out was one matter but he would not allow Satoru Gojo of all people to dangle you in front of him like a master would dangle a treat to a dog.
“Begone, you foul heretic. I will not tolerate your mockery of me, this church nor God any longer.”
Commanding in his tone, Father Kento extends the cross of the rosary forward to Gojo as if he were casting a malevolent curse back down to hell.
Father Kento doesn’t have the courage to look at you though, he can’t. Not if he wants to take a triumphant stand against Satoru Gojo.
And so Father Kento closes his eyes and silently prays.
Immediately bored at such a devout display, Gojo sighs rolling his eyes.
“Alright, alright, Father. I get it. Whatever you say, jeez. It’s not like I need your support to become mayor– just thought it would be nice is all. ”
Father Kento remains silent as he listens to both of your footsteps exit the church but not before Gojo stops at the doors, his cheerful voice taking on a dangerous edge.
“Heh, you know, not everyone in this town is as pious as you Father. Sheriff Fushiguro has never been one to turn down a stack of bills but I’m sure tonight he would enjoy sharing in Y/N’s creampie if you don’t.”
Father Kento’s eyes open to flash red with fury.
Having received a satisfactory enough reaction from the priest, Gojo grins wildly as your own eyes widen in shock at your husband’s words.
Has Gojo only ever used you to manipulate him alone?
The thought remains as Father Kento doesn’t miss the pleading gaze directed at him from over your shoulder as you are led out of the church.
Goddammit– He couldn’t let you fall into the brutish clutches of Toji Fushiguro.
Toji may have been the sheriff but he was well-known for his oafish demeanor and greasy womanizing ways.
NO! He mustn’t think of you any longer.
Father Kento needs to clear his mind of you for good with prayer.
Prayer and solitude.
Deep prayer and extensive solitude was what he needed if he ever hoped to rise again to gain God’s favor. He needed to call upon The Lord’s strength one last time to remain at the parish tonight and defy Gojo’s will.
Father Kento couldn’t let the pleasures of flesh continue to manipulate the very fibers of his being in such a way.
The rosary still in his grasp Father Kento raises his hands close in prayer as a final call for God’s mercy… and then it hits him– wafting off his fingers, overwhelming his senses and igniting every nerve in his being.
The scent of your cunt.
The lingering perfume of your sinful drippings spilled on your husband’s hand during mass had been transferred to his own when Gojo shook his hand and held it so firmly.
The bastard.
The rush hits him hard and he feels dizzy as his ears begin to ring. Vertigo overtakes Father Kento as he holds the offending hand out as if he had been poisoned.
Leaning back against a wall to gather himself, Father Kento realizes once the manic pounding coursing through his veins begins throbbing in his loins that he’s fated for damnation.
This is the moment he’d always dreaded although ironic with the simple acceptance of it he feels no despair.
Father Kento’s conviction is finally clear as he is left with a singular truth that rang through his entire soul:
Whatever solace he would know, whatever peace he would have in this life, he would only find with his cock buried in the sweet embrace of your cunt.
✟ the closing rites: (a/n) hell is hot and it's surely my destination after writing this. i tried to leave it a little ambiguous to whether y/n is actually in-love with nanami or just a sex-crazed slut eager to use him at the request of her husband. i don't have a pt.2 planned just fyi as this is meant to be a oneshot. although i do need to write more nanami so i will take requests for him! but fair warning i am very slow i apologize.
also shout out to the amazing art i used for the gfx ✟ art by mishwell
✟ REBLOG to be unburdened of your sins by Father Nanami but likes and comments are also appreciated!
upcoming: the nursery (yakuza!toji), please teach me! (ceo!gojo), request: teasing choso (college au), request: sukuna x blkreader, [none in any order as im at the mercy of my adhd lol]
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