18+ ⫶ SQUIRT LESSONS 101 ℘ requested
jack abbot proves your ‘incapability’ of squirting wrong.
the moment you mention the fact of never being able to squirt to jack, he’s a bit surprised. his lips parting to utter a response, but it falls silent as he raises a hand to caress the stubble on his jawline.
“never?” he repeats, not wanting to believe the words that just came out of your mouth because there’s just no way that’s true. “never.” you say after him, averting your eyes as you feel heat trickle down your body.
“no guy has ever been able to make me squirt, and… i haven’t been able to make myself either.” the lump on your throat thickens, and you can feel the embarrassment kicking in. “and google says tha—”
“google?” abbot cuts your sentence short with a disapproving laugh, it almost sounds sarcastic. “c’mon, kid that’s your source? half the stuff on google’s written by a bun’cha people who don’t know squat of what they’re talking about.” he rises from his chair, throwing his chin back to ensure the faculty-lounge door is closed before making his way over towards you.
and you of all people should know better than to trust what a website such as google says — you’re a doctor in practice, you have the source right within the building you’re standing in.
you feel the distance between you and abbot close as he presses his chest against your shoulder, ducking down near your ear whispering. “seems like you don’t know your own body anymore than those boys do.” he leans forward to get a read on your expression, and you’re there standing still like an embarrassed pup that doesn’t know what to do which makes him smile.
“no need to feel embarrassed.” he reassures, throwing a hand on top of your head, “let me give you hand, help you learn the difference between incapability and never having learned.”
and that’s how you found yourself breaking your own code of ethics. splayed out on jack abbot’s mattress, hugging a pillow against your chest as his tongue worked at your pussy.
he’s on his stomach, his arms hooked underneath your thighs to pull you closer on his mouth. “j—jack …” a moan falls from your lips, the way his tongue glides through your folds. how he angles the tip of his tongue to flex the muscle just before he meets your clit to flick at it.
“focus on the feeling, you gotta relax.” he murmurs, pulling off for just a mili-second before latching back onto the sensitive nub. flattening his tongue as his rocks his mouth against you, he’s hallowing his cheeks causing you to grab at his the roots of his hair in attempt to tug him off.
though he’s swatting your hand away, digging his face deeper — in between your thighs with a low, drawn out groan as your toes curl at the anticipating increase of pleasure making your core tighten.
“oh m— i’m gonna cum, jack- i’m gonna—“
he’s pulling his lips away from your pussy with a wet pop, soaked and glistening by his saliva mixed with your slick — as the tightness in your tummy slowly loosens. “that was damn, close.” jack breathes, wiping his mouth off with the backside of his hand before propping himself up in a position comfortable for his right amputee.
he reaches out, hands wrapping around your hips to drag you towards him. you don’t even resist, not when your own pleasure was stripped from you — you needed anything that could bring back that euphoric feeling.
your hips grind upwards, grinding against nothing but atoms. “see, that’s it— now you know what your body’s wantin’.” his slides a hand from your hips to below your navel, before slowly dragging the pads of his rough fingers down near the mound of your pussy.
carefully grazing over swollen pearl as you whine to the almost there sensation. jack watches the way your body reacts to his touch — pressing his index and middle finger into your slick folds, soaking his fingers in your mess. “‘s a good sign. you’re fuckin’ drenched, sweetheart .” he groans, dragging his digits further down to meet your entrance.
you claw your nails into the pillow your clutching as the tips of his fingers prod at your hole. he’s teasing, intoxicated by the way your hips are still rolling against his hand while you let out little moans as he gently presses his thick fingers inside you.
“m—mngh fuck, jack…” you sighs, tilting your chin up to the ceiling, “yeah? that feels good doesn’t it, kid?” he cooed, flicking his eyes up to trace your expression only to be met with one of his pillows before he’s tugging it away from your chest. “there we goo.” he sings, glossing over sweets features with your bottom lip caught between your teeth, making him click his tongue.
“uh-uh, it feels better when you let it out.” he shakes his head, stuffing your hole with his fingers until he’s knuckles deep — angling his fingers in an upward direction that rips a moan from your throat as he curls his digits inside of you.
and the action shoots right through the nerves within your sensitive bud. “i can f—feel it in my clit.” you stammer, brows furrowed as indescribable pressure builds against your badder and swells your nub. “mhmm, that’s right.” he hums, pressing the pads of fingers deeper against that spongy wall inside of you, as your toes curl.
“the g-spot, you’re jackpot, baby.” he rasps with a lopsided grin — shifting his position to lie down on his side, right besides you as his nose presses into the side of your cheek. “the more pressure you add…” he murmurs as his breath warms your skin, pressing with cruel precision that makes the place between your legs run warm.
“j— jack.” you mewl, eyes shut tight with a hand reach at his. “the more you get that peeing feeling.” he demonstrates, feeling your soft walls close in around his fingers.
you can feel the way your bladder fills with each nudge of his movements — like he’s milking the sensation out of you. as if he’s adding fuel to the sensitive nerves bundle inside you as your clit twitches to the repetitive motion.
“and if i press my thumb righttt against this pretty fuckin’ clit.” he groans, darting his thumb upward before pressing the pad flush against your clit. “nnnnmg-my god!” you gasp, back arching off the mattress while squeezing your thighs around his hand.
his fingers and thumb stimulating both pleasurable points at once has your mind blanking. eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you’re choking on a plethora of moans.
“‘m gonna cum— m’gonna cum, i’m—” you can feel a surge of warmth flood your nerves as you slur your words. “theree you go, melt into that feeling for me.” he groans, as your walls choke around his digits stuffing your pussy full with his thumb working circles against your overstimulated clit.
you feel your tummy tighten, vision flash white as the sensation completely overrides your body. “cummmingg!” you inhale breathlessly, holding your breath as your clit throbs with a dangerous amount of pleasure before you’re gushing everywhere.
“atta girl.” jack whistles with satisfaction — and you can’t even respond, still too busy making a mess all over yourself and jack’s arm. you’re body’s tenses against his chest as he continues milking you dry, letting you ride the feeling out while pressing his mouth against your ear. “gotta few more things ‘m sure your body’s never done.” he murmurs.
Synopsis: Infamous coke-sniffing reality TV star, bachelor, and ruler of the sunshine city of LA, Gojo Satoru didn’t count on his glory days of bedding every pretty person he sees and spending his money would end when he has the misfortune of meeting his demise after an accidental drowning. He also didn’t count on being reincarnated as a fucking razor of all objects!
But that all changes when you, the prettiest little mommy he’s ever seen, picks him up in the store for a baecation with your asshole husband Naoya who neglects you and that gorgeous honeypot that you’ll be using Gojo to shave with. But why just shave it when he can taste it AND fill it the way it needs to be? Maybe this reincarnation thing ain’t so bad!
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI); No Curse AU; Cracked Out lowkey lol; Reincarnation AU; Married!Reader; Cheating; Cuckhold!Hubby!Naoya lol fuck him; Shower Sex; Scent Play; Body Worship; Mommy Kink; Lactation Kink; Spitting; Spanking; Cunnilingus + Analingus; Deepthroat; Subby/Switchy!Gojo x Dom/Switchy!Reader; Throatpie; Doggystyle; Against The Wall; Two Creampies; Breeding; Cum on Tits & Ass; Daddy Kink; Aftercare
Word Count: 11.3k
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer's Note: This is my full fic for my submission for my writer mommy aka @madamechrissy’s Gojo object collab event for 50k followers! Thank you again letting me join!! 🩷🩷 -Jazz
Credits: Gojo fanart made by thatsallitchief on IG! Dividers made by @lonely-operator-on-the-phone & found on Pinterest!
Gojo didn’t think that Hell was an actual place.
He always thought it was just something people made up to scare men like him who lived fast.
And also died young.
And when Gojo suddenly dies at the ripe age of thirty years old, his pretty face plastered on the front of a newspaper and a TMZ headline, after drowning in a hot tub after too much champagne and booger sugar, he finally got a taste of the fiery pits where sinners go.
And to meet the Devil himself…literally. One minute, he was enjoying the comfort of the warm, bubbly water of his hot tub in the spacious backyard of his luxurious mansion in Los Angeles, California, accompanied by pretty women (and men) in the lewdest bathing suits and locking lips with some, cocaine lacing his tongue and champagne in his blood.
And then the next, he was falling down, down, down a bit of fire, the blue sky above him getting smaller and smaller until it was nonexistent. When he fell down to Hell, he somehow wasn't burnt to a crisp and he was still wearing his tight swim trunks and sunglasses, his toned body sculpted by the Gods themselves on full display.
How did he stoop so low? That was the question the Devil aka Satan aka Geto Suguru asked him.
“Clever joke, wasn’t it?” the red, muscular man chuckled, sitting on this throne of bones and charred corpses. At first, Gojo thought he was just dreaming or hallucinating. Maybe he snorted too much of that coke. There was no way he was actually standing in the pits of Hell staring into the eyes of the Devil.
Satan looked a lot different than Gojo pictured. His hair was long, rolling in black waves down his back, his hands clawed, feet hooves, and large sharp horns sticking out of his scalp. His forked staff sat next to him along with a twenty-feet tall three-headed Doberman that Gojo reminded himself not to piss off.
He was also devilishly (hehe) handsome. If he wasn't Satan, the blue-eyed bachelor definitely would've tried his luck at getting him out of his clothes and sucking that devil dick of his that he could see bulging in those leather pants stretching across his muscular thighs.
"Stop starin' at my cock," Geto deadpanned. "It's nice, I know, but my eyes are up here. Jesus, you really are a slut." He rolled his crimson eyes as Gojo began to process his words. "First of all, rude," the bachelor scoffed. "Second of all, who the fuck are you? Where am I?"
He looked around at his new environment, cringing at the burning flames circling him and the crowd of hideous demons sitting in pews lining the room. The flames licked up towards the ceiling where the pews continued to stretch on and on, filled to the brim with an audience of hellish creatures and damned souls.
When he turned back to stare at Geto, he was suddenly standing at a pew, almost like he was in a hellish courtroom, about to atone for his sins and voice every single on...which he did.
When Geto sat up in his chair and took the scroll that one of his henchmen fetched for him, he smirked at the bachelor. "Why, I'm the Devil," he said. "Geto Suguru. I've been wanting the chance to meet the infamous bachelor. Now that you're dead, I can finally—“
"Wait, I'm what?" Gojo yelped.
"Don't interrupt me," Geto growled, his eyes flashing gold, making Gojo button his lip. "Yes, you died and now you're here with me. God specifically told me himself that He doesn't want a whore like you tainting His paradise with your recklessness."
Gojo was gobsmacked, still convinced that he was dreaming. So he began to laugh a big belly laugh that made his shoulders shake and his eyes prick with tears. "This isn't happening," he giggled. "I'm just havin' a bad trip. Damn, that powder was a lot stronger than I thought!”
"Oh, glad that you brought that up." Geto smirked as he rolled out the scroll and Gojo watched as it traveled all the way to his bare feet. His eyes widened when he realized that it was a list of all of his sins written so neatly in black ink along the parchment.
Geto smirked at him, seeing that it was now clicking for him in that brain of his; the coke didn't fry it yet! "Now you got it," he chuckled. The Devil then cleared his throat, extending his voice to reach the entirety of the courtroom.
"Gojo Satoru," he boomed, "due to the extent of your sins and refusing to live the life of a better man, I hereby sentence you to—“
"Wait, wait!" Gojo exclaimed to which Geto snarled, flashing his sharp, jagged teeth at the bachelor. "My bad for interrupting you, Mr. Satan, sir, but what sins? I didn't kill anybody!"
Geto just smirked that wicked, frightening smirk that made Gojo shake in his trunks. He had always been someone who wasn't afraid of anyone or anything. In life, he'd chug a bottle of champagne and hit the highway; snort lines of a pretty woman's tits at a party; pop a pill and suck a stranger's dick in a nightclub bathroom stall if he was hot enough.
He'd bag anybody and bed them before sending them on their way every night. He'd crash a sports car in a drunken haze and buy another the next day. He'd fight paparazzi and break a couple cameras while smiling in the face of the cops and a judge who'd sentence him to community service or a couple months in jail again.
Shit, one flash of that pretty grin and he'd even fuck the same cop who arrested him, getting off with a slap on the wrist and his dick nice and wet.
He always hid behind his money, status, and fame, figuring that nobody or nothing could ever touch him. But now, standing there in the fuming fires of the great below, staring dead into the eyes of his sins on paper, he was afraid. Very afraid.
"Well, let's go down the list, shall we?" Geto mocked and snapped his clawed fingers. "Shoko, come read for me, please."
A pretty, slender woman with red skin, long, brown hair, and an attractive mole on her cheek appeared beside him in a plume of black smoke. She wore a tight black turtleneck despite the unbearable heat of the flames and smoked a cigarette dangling from her lips. Without sparing Gojo a glance, she put on her glasses and began reading down the list.
"Adultery; infidelity; driving drunk and high; snorting more coke than a skier could ski on in the Swiss Alps; drinking enough champagne and liquor to drown the sunshine state of California; spending money on cars, booze, and sex workers that could've gone to charity; committing assault and violence on those you deemed below you, such as paparazzi and nightclub bouncers; salaciously sticking your dick in every pretty body you see, including those who were married and in relationships..."
The list went on and on and on. And as it did, Gojo withered more and more, his confidence and cockiness fading. He knew that this was real, that he was dead, and there was no getting out of this without possibly spending the rest of eternity in endless torture.
Finally, Shoko stopped talking and took a puff of her cigarette, eyeing Gojo up. "Sorry, bachelor," she sighed before she vanished in a plume of smoke, gone.
Geto snatched the scroll back, rolling it into his clad fist and making it vanish in a puff of black smoke. "Thank you, Shoko," he said to the spot she disappeared from.
He then looked back at Gojo, the look in his eyes nothing short of disgust and venom...but also pity. "People like you really disgust me," he sighed. "You had it all; a life in the sun...and you just threw it away for quick, meaningless fucks and drugs. What a shame."
"So what now?" Gojo managed to bark despite the stinging tears in his eyes and the lump in his throat. "You gonna kill me? I'm already dead!" He displayed his arms out wide as if to show the Devil that he was, in fact, deceased. "If you sentence me to death then—“
"Oh, no, no, little bachelor," Geto chuckled. "I'm not gonna sentence you to death or an eternity in Hell. What I've got planned for you is even better." He paused, smirking evilly at the bachelor.
"Gojo Satoru, for your sins in life and living your days in endless greed, sloth, vanity, and lust especially. I hereby sentence you to a life of pure, agonizing want. A second chance at a life that you can't have with a pretty woman. You'll be reincarnated as an item for her gorgeous body, but you'll never be able to have it for yourself unless you free yourself of your selfish motives and cleanse your sins.”
Gojo blinked at the horned, red man, confused. Around him, Geto's jury began to shriek and cheer for more, salivating and drooling over the pain of this second life that Gojo was about to life. Before he could say anything or protest, Geto gave him a departing smile and took his staff in hand. "Farewell, Gojo Satoru...for now."
And with one thunk of his staff against the fiery floor, Gojo disappeared in a plume of black smoke that choked his lungs and suddenly appeared somewhere else. Somewhere sterile, boring, and dead: a grocery store.
And where was he? In a plastic trap of a box staring across the aisle at a bunch of other feminine hygiene projects, from deodorant to body spray to sunscreen.
No hands, no arms, no legs. No sign of his impressively long, fat dick with the silver ball pierced through the bulbous, pink head. Not even a mouth or eyes though he could still see and breathe. His body was small and slender, his face curving upward in the blade of a razor.
'That dick!' he thought to himself, enraged. Of course, Geto reincarnated him as a razor, forcing him to live his life shaving the soft, supple skin of a woman's legs, thighs and bikini line. He would've gladly had picked spending eternity in Hell because this hell was too much!
He was there for months in that box, untouched. Unwanted. Neglected. Unable to even beat his dick to pass the time. Forced to live with his pain, regret, and sins.
Luckily, as soon as he felt he was doomed, there you suddenly were. Gojo couldn’t remember how long it had been. Time worked differently for a sinner like him who was reincarnated into an inanimate object.
All he knows is one day you just appeared to him like an angel in the most sinful sundress he’d ever seen. The ruffled skirts clung to your hips and teased your thick, plushy thighs the way he wanted to. You were accompanied by two of your kids, a set of twins about the ages of two years, babbling and playing with their toys in the chart.
“Nikiya, Nao, look!” you giggled, showing them a bag of fruit snacks. “Your favorites!”
Both of the twins had your hair color and skin tone while their eyes weren’t your color. Perhaps their father’s? Was he in the picture?
“Snackies!” Nao shouted, stretching his chubby hands out for them. You giggled and gave it to him once you tore it open, letting him chew on a grape gummy.
Nikiya stretched a hand out for one too, her big eyes so bright and innocent. You cooed and gave her an apple one, earning a big, gummy smile in reply. You pressed a kiss to her chubby cheek, making the bachelor’s heart melt.
Gojo was taken aback by your beauty. Your body. Your glossy hair and soft skin. The curves you displayed under your sundress that teased him as you walked by, that ass bouncing so enticingly for him.
He’d fucked so many of the hottest women in his life. Models, actresses, strippers, OF girls, even his own costars on The Bachelor….but none of them compared to you and your mature build from aging and having babies.
He needed you. Wanted you. Craved you. Didn't care if he had to spend his days gliding across your skin while you shaved your shapely legs and luscious thighs that he'd long to caress, touch, and taste. He just wanted to be yours.
And he was gonna get you.
He was damn near humming and vibrating with need as you neared him, looking everywhere but at his box on the shelf. “Let's see now," you hummed to yourself. "The perfect razor..." You paused, picking one up next to him and scowling. “Expensive," you sighed.
Gojo curiously eyed your shopping cart of kiddie snacks, lotion, sunscreen, and new makeup. Were you going on a trip?
As you tipped forward, he had the perfect view of your cleavage. So full and voluptuous like ripe, hanging fruit. He felt himself salivating, his cock aching to—
“Y/N!” Suddenly, there was a scream of your name and you jumped, dropping the box of razors. A man appeared in the isle with you, not much to look at besides his green hair and ear piercings.
Compared to you, he was a dusty. What the hell we’re doing with a guy like that? And then he saw the glittering engagement ring on your pretty finger. ‘Fuckin’ hell.’
“God, woman, are you done yet?" your husband scoffed. "We've been in here for 20 minutes! How long does it take a girl to shop for groceries?"
You looked at him over your shoulder and glared. "I'm shopping for our trip too, Naoya,” you pointedly replied. "You'd know that if you listened to me."
Your husband placed a hand on his heart, mocking, annoying you and Gojo both. "Oh, so now I'm the bad guy?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes like a petulant child. “Whatever, just hurry it up."
When you turned back around, Gojo noticed how tense you were, and your depleted expression. Even your curious twins and their cute faces couldn’t make you happy. He didn’t yet know the ins and outs of your marriage, but he did know that this Naoya guy was an asshole and didn’t deserve you.
Suddenly, you took your cart and began to walk off, making Gojo panic. He couldn’t let you get away!
Thinking spontaneously, he began to rock back and forth in his box, trying to ease himself off of the shelf. Fortunately, with one rock to the front, he teetered over and tumbled to the tiled floor right by your white-painted toes.
"Oh!" you yelped in surprise. You stared confusingly at the box and picked it up, admiring the fine razor inside with the blue jelly-soft handle and five different blades. “How'd you get loose?" you wondered aloud.
Gojo ogled at your gorgeous face from inside the box, praying for God to have mercy on him and grant him the one gift of being yours. As you held him, he started to feel a stir in his chest and a shock that went through him like a current of electricity.
You must’ve felt it too because you gasped and almost dropped him. Gojo wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew that you were the one. If he had to spend eternity being anyone’s razor, he’d want it to be you.
You turned to your hubby when he walked up to you, still bored and still scowling. “Naoya, something weird just happened. This box just shocked me! It felt like a—“
"Twenty dollars?!" he exclaimed, gaping at the razor. "For one razor?! You're payin' for that, not me. Now c'mon, let's go before we waste more time in here buyin' stuff for a 3-day trip."
He then walked off with the kids and the cart of items, leaving you to stand alone in the isle. “All this just to rebuild our marriage,” you scoffed to yourself. “A 3-day trip that I planned.”
Unbeknownst to you, Gojo was listening to you mutter to yourself, feeling his heart wither for you. A great mommy and a beautiful woman getting neglected by her husband? That was a no-no. A big no-no.
But all he could do was watch and stay silent, wishing for the chance to snag you as his own. What a hell indeed.
You smiled down at him, placing the box close to your chest. "You're coming home with me," you whispered. "I'm sure you'll do the job for me."
'Oh, baby, you have no idea,' Gojo thought.
"This. Fuckin'. Sucks,' thought the white-haired, blue-eyed bachelor.
If he were alive, he would be spending the summer lounging in his pool with a cool cocktail and a blunt. Or book a trip to the islands to spend his days at some fancy resort, surfing the waves, fucking the hottest women and men, and filling his nose with coke until he passes out on the most expensive sheets.
But now, here he was, spending his second life as a fucking razor in a fancy hotel resort bathroom. A bathroom that was way smaller than his considering that it was in a hotel suite. At least he got a resort this summer. The only problem was that he wasn’t human anymore, so he couldn’t enjoy the sun, the pool, or the beach stretching out in front of the resort.
Or enjoy you. Beautiful, sweet, curvy you. Who haunted his thoughts and whom he cherished every waking moment with, even if all he had was his razor gliding across your skin to cut off your body hair. He didn’t even mind if it was your armpits; at least it was you! Gojo was obsessed with every single part of you.
How could he not be? He had been living with you for weeks now while you prepared for your “baecation” with your dickhead husband Naoya whose way of helping you only seemed to be arguing with you and giving you subpar dick before rolling off to sleep. You worked effortlessly to plan for this trip—packing; planning a schedule for the twins for your parents while you were away; cleaning the house from top to bottom.
You were quite a busy little mommy. If you didn’t have one twin, you had the other, holding the chubby toddler under your arm to feed them or play with them or rock them to sleep. Gojo watched it all, sometimes in your bathroom or sitting on your vanity, waiting patiently for the chance to be held by you again.
Those nights when you took a hot shower were your special times with him. He loved watching you go through the routine of slathering your coconut oil and fruity-smelling lotions on your body that drove him insane, making your skin glow.
He loved seeing the sudsy soap drip off your body, every droplet of water making him envious, wanting so badly to glide his fingers down each curve of your body and keep them there. To bathe you in his kisses. To lick you up and down and make you cry out in pleasure the way you should’ve been doing as he fucked your brains out in the shower.
He loved seeing you be so intimate, stripped down without the clothes or makeup so he could see every tiger stripe, every scar, every mark, every imperfection that made you perfect in his eyes. He couldn’t understand why Naoya didn’t appreciate you, such a beautiful specimen, when you did so much to keep his affections and attraction for you alive.
He couldn’t stand the bastard, but what could he do? He couldn’t even talk! All he could do was simmer with hatred for him and fall deeper for you, head over heels for your sweetness, gorgeous smile, lovely curves, and the skills you acquired as a mother hen.
When he heard the bathroom door open, Gojo grew excited, hoping that it was you. To his surprise, the universe threw him a bone—there you stood in your robe, padding into the bathroom on the marbled floor with your cute little white-painted toes and skin tan from the sun. You closed the door and walked over to the walk-in shower, past the whirlpool tub. You opened it, revealing Gojo among the bottles of soap, shampoo, and shower oil.
You picked it up and he resisted the urge to bust right there in your soft hand. ”Hi again, friend," you giggled.
'Hey, baby,' Gojo desperately wanted to greet you. You smiled as if you could hear him, running the warm water. It fell down in sheets like a rainforest waterfall. "Guess it's you and me again. I've got a fancy dinner to go to later and I need to smoothen up. Can't have pineapple legs or a prickly bush. It itches like hell!"
Call him freaky, but Gojo damn near salivated at the idea of shaving your pussy and legs again. It was the closest he’d ever get to actually feeling them for himself. He had to make do with what he had, right?
He was just glad you decided to pack him for the trip. Three days of the sun, the beach, and alone time with your husband while your kids were with your parents…if only your husband was privy to that plan as well. Since the trip started, Naoya has barely spent any alone time with you. Gojo has yet to hear your beautiful cries of pleasure from Naoya giving you dick the same way you make them in the shower, your fingers rubbing that adorable clit or spraying it with the shower head.
Not that Gojo was complaining about that. He loved watching you play with yourself for his eyes only, but damn, if he wasn’t simmering with need and impatience to dick you down. He just didn’t understand it! Why be married to such a sexy woman and go on a trip with you if Naoya wasn’t gonna fuck you on every surface in this hotel room?!
His thoughts vanished when you took off your robe, letting it hit the floor, and then began to take off your bathing suit. It was the strapless shape wear kind that sucked in your tummy and made your ass and rack look fantastic. 'Yes, baby, take it all off,' he encouraged. 'So beautiful...'
Once you were naked, you went into your hygiene bag for your bottle of shaving cream, but something fell out onto the floor instead: your rose toy. ”Whoops!” you giggled. "Forgot you were in there." You plucked the red vibrator up off the floor, making Gojo cheekily chuckle. You were a freaky little mommy, that was for sure!
"Don't put me back in the damn bag, woman!" The anguished cries of Sukuna Ryomen, another tortured soul, rang out to Gojo’s ears from the rose toy. "I can't fuckin' breathe in there!"
"Shit, at least you get to be inside her," Gojo snapped. "Be grateful, you bastard!" Sukuna yelled out other swears as you tucked him back into the bag and zipped it up, luckily leaving a crack in the zipper for him to breathe.
Then you stepped in the shower and gave him the show he was waiting on. He watched as you lathered yourself up with a coconut/mango scented body wash and a shower oil to make your skin smooth. He watched in arousal and adoration as you washed up, humming softly to yourself, soapy water clinging to your soft skin and sliding down your inner thighs.
The way the hot water slid down your asscheeks was a crime, he swore! 'Fuck, what I wouldn't give to taste her!' Gojo lamented. 'Just one lick, that's all I ask!' Then, joyously, you began to squirt shaving cream on your legs and reached for him. Gojo could’ve nutted right there as you began to slide along your skin, shaving each prickle of hair from your ankles and calves up to your thighs, lower belly, and finally to your pussy.
"Mmm, you do it real smooth, friend," you hummed as you grazed the razor across your skin. "So perfect. I'm as smooth as a dolphin!"
'Yes, you are,' Gojo agreed. Probably smooth to the touch. Smoother inside too.
He gaze fell on the puffy lips of your pussy, needing to feel them as he sunk inside of you, making you cry in pleasure as he filled you more than that stupid Naoya ever could. Even with his tongue, fat, long, wicked, and pierced. He could give you exactly what you craved.
Finally done, you shut off the shower, much to his dismay, and took him as you stepped out of the shower to get dressed. You set him on the vanity and he watched in enjoyment as you put on your outfit for dinner tonight: a long maxi dress that stopped at your ankles with a slit in the middle to expose slips of your luscious thighs and legs. You paired it with some wedges and then sat down to your makeup when—
BANG!
You startled, nearly dropping Gojo and a couple of makeup items on the floor as the hotel door flew open. ”Y/N, where are you?" Your husband hollered. And just like that, the mood was ruined. “In the bathroom!" you called back.
Naoya immediately began to complain like clockwork, irking Gojo further. ”Again?! Jesus, woman, you spend all day in the bathroom! How much can that mirror take?"
You ignored his complaints, instead turning around in the stool in front of the mirror while capping your lipstick. You looked so beautiful, Gojo thought. Like a summertime Goddess in your red lip and golden eyeshadow. "Just getting ready for our dinner tonight. I've got the prettiest dress that I'm gonna..."
Your smile faded and your excitement died the moment you saw Naoya wearing his briefs and a T-shirt, having changed out of his swim trunks. ”What are you doing?" you wondered. "Aren't you getting ready? Our reservations are in fifteen minutes!"
Naoya just sighed, yawning, and Gojo could tell he was drunk judging by his slurred words. ”Can’t make it tonight. The pool tuckered me out. Can't we just go tomorrow and to somewhere not so fancy?” He scowled at the idea, irritating you. "But I made the reservations a month in advance," you argued. "I showed you the itinerary and you said—“
"Well, plans change,” your husband interrupted with a passive shrug. “Shit happens. Come on, darling, I can give you a better night than some lousy steak can." But you weren’t accepting that. You stared at him, glowering, angered at his laziness and refusal to even try. ”What, now you're mad at me?" he scoffed. "You've been acting like this since we got here!"
Gojo would’ve smacked his head off his shoulders if he was human. "What? You mean upset and disappointed 'cause you won't try to have a good time with me, your wife and the mother of your children?" you growled. "You've barely spent any time with me since we've been here. Not to mention that we haven't fucked ONCE in this bed because you keep eye fucking other girls here!"
Nayoa flushed with anger at the accusation and Gojo feared that he would harm you, but instead, he tossed his hands up. "I am not doing this with you. That insecure shit is messin' with you and I'm not gonna even acknowledge it. You figure it out while I sleep, and then, when you've stopped actin' crazy, we can make up."
He then stormed off, leaving you alone, and slammed the door to the master bedroom shut. 'That asshole,' Gojo growled. 'I'm gonna kill him.' He had no idea how, but he could imagine. Maybe he’d push himself on the floor and have Naoya step on him so he’d cut himself and bleed out.
When you began to break into tiny sobs, Gojo felt his heart break. You slumped in your seat, defeated, all done up with smooth skin and nowhere to go."That asshole," you sobbed. "All I do is try to make him happy! To show him that I love him and I want us to be together, but he just...h-he...!" You covered your mouth and continued to cry, ruining your eye makeup. Gojo hated seeing you cry. You didn't deserve this. You deserved more. So much more.
You then plucked him from the vanity, sniffling at him. ”Sorry for wasting your time, little friend. Guess I'll have to take this all off now." You motioned to your dress, and as pretty as you looked in it, you looked just as beautiful without it. 'God, yes, do it!' Gojo selfishly thought. 'Please show me that gorgeous body again, baby, please!'
And you did. You got a glass of wine from the mini fridge in the kitchenette, stripped, and proceeded to get in the hot shower again, face cleanser and soap in tow. Gojo was now on the little shelf behind you, watching you, relishing your form under the steamy water.
Oh, to be the water droplets sliding down your soft, supple, irresistible body. To be the sudsy soap covering your yummy-looking tits that he longed to squeeze and suck. To be the sponge sliding down your legs and thighs.
To see all the water trickle down your soft skin and curves made his dick ache, but he couldn't even focus on that or relish the fact that he was getting a front row seat view of your form. Not when you were still so depleted. You sniffled as you washed, scrubbing the makeup you worked so hard on off of your pretty face. He was fuming for you.
'Poor baby,' he thought to himself. He longed to hold you. To embrace you tight. To tell you that everything would be okay and that you didn't deserve a man like Naoya, someone who would put his own needs over yours.
Someone who fucked you and then rolled over to sleep without cuddling you. Who made plans with you and then cancelled them for his own selfish needs. Who broke your heart over and over again even when you tried to show him that you cared so deeply about your relationship, but all he cared about was your ass and titties and-
Like a record scratching, Gojo pivoted to another thought. A tear in the fabric of his perfectly-designed bubble. A sudden realization. A lightbulb flickering. 'Of course!' he thought, clarity hitting him. This is what his sins consisted of! His vanity. His greed. His sloth. And especially his lust.
He found you more attractive than he did himself. He wanted all of his to be yours, right down to the clothes off of his back. He longed to do more for you; to work endlessly so he could afford you everything you deserved and more, giving you every red cent.
And thought he lusted for you (because who wouldn't?), it was less about wanting your body but your heart. Your soul. To show you that you deserved more than your selfish boyfriend. To show you the ways of a real lover and treat you as you should be treated.
Gojo just wanted to make you feel good! He didn't care if he got off too; he just wanted to see those pretty eyes roll back and hear those moans melt into his ears as he drove his cock into your pretty, puffy pussy.
He softly groaned, sliding a hand down to stroke his hard cock at the thought wrapping a hand around himself…wait. How was he touching himself?
His ocean-blue eyes shot open and he realized where he was: still in the shower, standing behind you in his human form again, in just his swim trunks. "Holy shit," he whispered. That was a horrible mistake because you ended up turning around and seeing him. Still naked. ”Uh....hey," he awkwardly greeted, crooked smiling at you. "Don't scream, okay?"
Gojo's never heard a woman scream so loud; not even while he was fucking them. You opened that mouth and let out a frightened scream that echoed throughout the shower despite the pounding water. Immediately, you jumped out of the shower and shut the door, grabbing a robe to throw on your naked body. ”Who are you?! Who'd the fuck you get in here?!" you shriek.
"Baby, baby, relax!" he chuckled. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I pro—“
"Stop calling me 'baby'!" you demanded, still panicking. "And where's Naoya?! What'd you do to him?!" Gojo glared at the mention of your bitch ass baby daddy. ”I didn't do shit. He's probably still sleep in bed like he's been doin' while you were in here cryin' your pretty ass off." He tutted in disappointment, shaking his head. "Your tears are too good for him, cutie."
You stared at him, wide-eyed and flabbergasted. ”W-Wha?” you murmured, confused. Then you paused, squinting at him. “Wait…you look familiar." Gojo chuckled, standing in the shower, water dripping off of his abs and pecs. ”I should. I've been on fuckin' television."
Finally, you got it and covered your mouth in shock. ”You’re Gojo Satoru from The Bachelor show!" you gasped. "B-But...aren't you dead? I-I saw your face on TMZ! You—“
"Drowned in a hot tub. Yeah, don't remind me, sweetheart. I also went to Hell and got reincarnated as your personal razor." You were silent, processing his weird ass words. And as expected, you begin to laugh. "There's no way this is real. I'm dreaming. I just drank too much wine."
Gojo raised a brow at you, challenging your attempt at rationalizing this. ”So how would I know that you like to mix coconut oil with your shaving cream? Or that you only wear fruit-scented body spray in the summertime ‘cause you think it’s sexy? Or that you have a heart-shaped mole on your inner thigh?"
You blinked at him, unable to reply. Yes, Gojo paid close attention to your habits and routines, mostly because he was obsessed with you. ”Okay, so let's say all of this is true,” you said, crossing your arms and giving him a steely look. “How’d you go from being an inanimate object to, uh...this?"
You motioned your hand over his impressive body and he smirked, glad that you took interest in it. "I dunno. Guess you helped cleanse me of my sins or whatever. I care about somethin' other than myself and money for once.” He pressed his hands against the glass, giving you a hot stare. “You.”
"M-Me?!" you stammered, scoffing. "But I barely know you! And I’m married!"
“To a total dickhead and someone who don't treat you right,” Gojo argued. “Any man who isn't fucking you on every piece of furniture in this suite on a baecation YOU planned doesn't deserve you." The look he shot you behind the glass shower wall was just as steamy as the hot water vaporizing in the shower.
You blinked at him, still shocked and dazed from this strange situation. "You shouldn't be saying this to me," you whimpered, averting your gaze. Gojo held his on you, studying your face. ”Why? 'Cause you know it's true?” You didn’t reply and that was all the answer he needed—you felt the same way; you just couldn’t admit it.
"I know that this is strange, baby. How often do you buy a razor that turns into a semi-naked bachelor? But I truly believe that you were meant to pick me up in that grocery store."
You finally looked at him, listening, and he tried to hold your attention. He needed it.
"You have to understand: I spent all my days in my old life carin’ about nobody but myself. Drinkin' like a fish, snortin' coke all night, takin' anyone to bed just to forget about them a week later…I broke hearts and didn't care. I hurt others and didn't care. Nothing mattered but ME."
Standing before you, he felt all of his defenses crumble. He wanted you to see him the way he saw you. "But then you came along," he adoringly said, smiling at you. "And seein’ you do so much for your man with nothing given in return made me realize how much I could do for you. How better of a man I can be to a pretty thing like you."
He then slid the glass shower door open and you didn’t run. You stayed put, albeit nervous, and let him take your hand in his. ”Gojo,” you sighed. "You can't."
"Why can't I?" he asked. He rubbed his thumb along your knuckles, gentle yet seductive. ”I just wanna make you feel good, baby. You don't have to return my feelings, but at least let me show you what sex can be like with a guy like me."
You looked like you were contemplating it, especially since you weren’t pushing him away or looking to frightened. ”What about Naoya? What if hears?" Gojo clucked his tongue, tutting at you. ”Then let him...kidding. You'll just have to try to keep it down." His pink lips curled into a cocky smirk, those past remnants of old bachelor Gojo still in his blood. ”But I warn you, baby: I'm pretty good with my mouth."
He then gripped you to him, making you gasp slightly as he suddenly pressed his shirtless body against yours. You stared up at him, so small and pretty, standing a whole head shorter than him. He wanted to protect you. To cherish you. ”Just find out here," he whispered, taking your hand and gliding your thumb against his bottom lip.
Then you were tossing yourself at him and pressing your lips to his. Gojo moaned in surprise as he caught you in his arms, but soon, he melted, your curvy body finally within them. Your lips were so soft and sweet, tasting of wine that he quickly got drunk on. “So beautiful," he whined against your lips. "So perfect. Needed you for so fuckin' long, babe."
You slowly pulled away, giving him those dazed eyes, and yanked off your robe, exposing your body to him. You gently pulled him back into the warm, steamy shower to continue the kiss. He held you against the wall and continued to deeply, passionately kiss you, soft moans of need escaping him and entering your mouth. Your hands glided down his abs while his indulged in your waist, wide hips, and full ass, drinking in your body.
"Gojo," you softly whined, tilting your head back to allow more of his wet, hot kisses. Gojo hummed in disagreement, peppering you in smooches. "Satoru, baby…or call me whatever the fuck you wanna call me.” He continued to kiss your throat before traveling down to your breasts, kissing the tops of them.
"Satoru," you whispered. "Lower, please." He smirked at you and began to massage both of your round, soft titties, loving how they fit in his big hands. “Right here, mama? That's where you want me?" Then he latched his lips around one of your tight, hard nipples and got those sounds from you that he ached for.
Your moans were so sweet and bounced off of the shower walls as he tweaked and sucked your nipples, causing milk to dribble from them. “S-Sorry,” you stammered. “It’s from the twins. I don’t do it anymore, but I’m kinda stuck like this for awhile.”
Gojo couldn’t think of anything more blessed. He continued to eagerly suck at your nipples, moaning at the taste of your sweet milk on his tongue. "Fuck!" you gasped, wrapping your arms tight around his head. "God, S-Satoru, your mouth! Oh!"
You arched your back and pushed your tits into him, needing more, and he gave it all to you, swirling his pierced tongue around your nipples. As he did, his cock brushed against your thigh, pushing against his swim trunks. "Someone’s excited," you giggled, noticing his bulge. He gave you a hot, lustful look, palming your ass as he stood up straight. “I’ve been a fuckin' razor for months unable to jack off. Of course I'm excited for you. Look at you!"
You smiled at his compliment, a playful glint in your eyes. "So you like these tits?" you teased, grabbing a handful of them and squeezing. "And this ass?" You turned around and glided your hands down your soft, full asscheeks dripping with water. Gojo watched, transfixed and pitifully horny, hard enough to fuck a hole in the shower wall. “Y-Yeah,” he exhaled. "Fuck yes, I do. I like this too."
Slowly, he turned you around and knelt before you, right before your pussy, soft and bare from shaving. Your inner thighs cushioned your honeypot that he knew was just as plushy and perfect as you were. “Will you let me taste her? Please, baby?"
He stared up at you, pleading with his eyes, and you were helpless to deny him. ”Okay, but don't be too loud. We can't wake Naoya.” Gojo nodded, but he had every intention of making you scream for him with his tongue.
He then gently slid your leg over his shoulder and proceeded to lap at your pretty pussy while you were pinned against the wall, gasping at the cool metal of his tongue piercing against your hot, wet clit. He started off slow and sultry, taking his time getting to know your taste and what you enjoyed. “Mmm, fuck,” you softly moaned. “I like that.”
Gojo stared up at you between your legs, those blue eyes like sapphires. “Yeah?” he asked, grinning up at you. “Poor mama hasn’t been eaten right, have you?” He pressed a kiss to your clit, making you flinch and bite your lip.
“H-He gets busy with work,” you tried to defend your husband. Gojo scowled, angered that you’d even bother. “I don’t give a fuck. I’d spend 12 hours a day recording for The Bachelor and I’d still save time to eat this pretty pussy.”
He gave you a long lick along your slit, making your eyelids flutter. “You’re making me blush, Satoru,” you giggled, averting your gaze from him. The bachelor planted another kiss on your clit before proceeding to lap at your pussy with his tongue. “That’s not all I can do to you.”
And when he finally got you comfortable and open, he was finally able to eat you out the way your pussy needed to be. You moaned, breathless and wanton, as Gojo slid his tongue into your velvety, wet hole, swallowing your honey from the source. “Oh,” you sighed, lacing your hands in his wet hair. “Yes, Toru. Mmm, fuck, that feels good.”
Your praise is like sweet music to his ears. He decided to go deeper, needing to feel you grip his tongue, curling the long muscle up to graze your internal G-spot. You keened with pleasure, nearly toppling over from it. He gripped your ass firmly, securing you against the wall. “God, Satoru!” you whined. “Deeper! Give it to me more!”
He smiled in that cocky fashion, but he was just oh-so proud that he was making you feel so amazing. The way you deserved. “More, Mommy? You mean like this?” He then dips his tongue into you again and does a fast flick that makes your moans bounce off of the walls. “Yes!” you gasped. “Yeah, just like that!”
Gojo slithered a hand down and began to jerk his cock under his swim trunks, straining and pulsing from your sounds. “Tell me what you like. Tell me how to make you cum.” And you told him. You told him how to move his tongue and work his jaw as he lapped at your hole. He did his very best to follow close instructions, earning more of your wonderful voice in return.
It was all so perfect. Gojo felt like he was getting a slice of heaven that he didn’t deserve and the temptation of the shiny apple in the Garden Of Eden as you whimpered and whined for him, gripping his white locks for dear life as you began to shamelessly hump his face, grinding more of that pussy into his mouth. He fisted his cock, causing himself to peak pre all over the shower floor, as your moans grew louder for him.
But the moment he spat on your pussy and slurped it back up was the moment you broke. “Oh, yes!” you cried out. “A-Ah! Oh, my God, fuck, Toru, I’m gonna cum!”
“Mmm-hmm!” Gojo hummed eagerly against your clit. He peered up at you with those ocean blue eyes, wanting to see you come undone for him. ‘Cum for me,’ he begged. ‘Please, baby, give it to me! Spill it all over my tongue!’
As if you heard him, your pussy spasms around his tongue and you cum hard. With a broken moan and a shout of, “Oh, my God!”, you creamed all over his tongue, drenching it in your mouth. Gojo eagerly lapped and slurped it all up, not wasting a drop, as he helped you ride out your orgasm, the warm shower water dripping over him.
As you sighed in contentment, he finally pulled away, a string of spit connecting his bottom lip to your cunt. He stared up at you, admiring the gorgeous view above him. “Did I do good, mama?” he cooed. You reached a hand down to cup his face, emitting a soft moan from his pink lips. “You did wonderful, baby,” you replied. “Now it’s your turn.”
Gojo never stood up so fast in his life. He couldn’t help but stare as you stroked him through his shorts and then slowly pulled them down to expose his firm, pale ass, the only thing untouched by sun, and his hard, veiny cock curved upward with a silver piercing at the underside of the bulbous, pink head. He moaned as you began to stroke him up and down, wrapping your soft hand around him. “You’re so fuckin’ hard,” you moaned.
He lazily watched you ogle his straining, fat cock, resisting the urge to fuck your hand. “Guilty as charged,” he chuckled out through a shudder. “It’s all for you.” He bit his lip as you gripped him a bit, his cock slick from the water. It only grew slicker when you got on your knees and spit on his dick, coating it in your saliva. “All for me?” you purred. “Really, Toru?”
Then you wrapped your lips around him, sucking his tip like a lollipop, your eyes staring up into his. “Y-Yeah,” he gasped. “A-All—oh, fuck me—all for you, Mommy. I promise.” His fists clenched tight at his sides, his balls tight with unshed cum and arousal. You smiled, pretty and seductive, pressing a kiss to his tip. “Then you’ll be a good boy and let me suck on it, won’t you?”
Gojo wanted nothing more than that. Months of no head had him going insane for your tongue. “Yes, please!” he moaned. “Please, Mommy, wrap those pretty lips ‘round me! I need them so bad!”
You cooed at his cute begging and proceeded to wrap those pretty lips around him to suck him good. Gojo was a wreck, moaning and whimpering at the suction, your hot, wet mouth more than he could take. He had to lean against the shower wall in order to keep from melting from the pleasure as you sucked his soul out, stroking his shaft in time with sucking the top half. “Oh, my God,” he groaned, eyes rolling back. “Fuck, mama, you’re so goddamn g-good!”
You popped off of him and smiled, pressing a finger to your lips. “Shhh, baby,” you giggled. “Thank you, but remember what I said: we can’t wake my husband.” You went back to it, stroking his fat bottom half as you licked on his tip. “You’re much bigger than he is. It’ll take me some time to take you in my throat.”
Gojo felt a stroke of pride at this, glad to hear that he was bigger than your husband. He seemed like a shrimp-dicked loser anyway. “Take all the time you need, sweetie,” he moaned. “I’m happy you’re even suckin’ me off like this. You’re too good to me.”
He began to stroke your cheek and wet hair, tangling his fingers in the strands.
You smiled up at him, pressing his cock to your cheek, your satin-soft skin nearly making him whine. “Aren’t you sweet?” you cooed. “Bet you said that to all the girls.” He shook his head—you just didn’t understand. He didn’t praise any girl the way he did you. “No…just you.”
You seemed to believe it because the next time you got him in your mouth, he was slipping down your throat. It took some time, but you did it and nearly gagged as he hit the back of your throat. Gojo’s toes curled as you fucked him with your tight, wet throat, constricting, flexing, and pulsing around him, drawing moans of pleasure from his throat. “S’good, Toru, baby?” you hummed around his dick.
“F-F-Fuck yes!” he stammered. “S’so, so good, Mommy! You make this dick feel so good!” He completely ditched all self control, flush in the face, his balls flush against your chin as you slurped all the way up. You held him there for a few pleasurably agonizing seconds before you slid off of him, each sound wet and sloppy. “Yeah? Good enough to fill my throat up? Good enough to give me a nice throatpie?”
“Yes, yes, fuuuuck yes!” Gojo whined, staring down at you through slitted, blue eyes. “Can I fuck your face, Mommy? Please, I need to! I’m so close!” He could feel it starting at the base of his cock and in his balls, desperate to be freed. “You may,” you uttered and he proceeded to grip your hair and fuck your throat like it was going out of style.
In an effort to keep from exploding too soon, Gojo pulled out to fuck your titties, groaning as your full, soft tits enclosed around his cock for him to fuck, your eyes staring up into his. Then it was right back to fucking your pretty face, your cheeks hollowed and lips stretched around his dick. “Oh, my fuckin’ God, I’m gonna cum!” he whimpered. “I’mma…I’m gonna….fuck, Mommy, yes!”
He didn’t have time to warn you before a rush of cum was escaping his dick and entering down your throat. You spluttered in surprise, but gripped on as Gojo came hard with a guttural groan that came straight from the chest. After not being able to nut in months, he nutted months’ worth of spunk for you, coating your tongue in his taste.
You stared up at him as you sucked and slurped it all down, jerking more out of him until he was spent. He panted as he leaned back against the wall, completely satisfied.
You licked your lips and fingers, sucking up the rest of his cum. “Mmm, good boy,” you purred. “So yummy. So sweet.” Suddenly, Gojo was ignited again like a fire and his semi-hard cock twitched for more.
Maybe being called a ‘good boy’ did it for him. “Just like you,” he cooed. “C’mere.” He crooked a finger at you and gently helped you up off of your knees to get a hot, steamy kiss. You moaned against his lips as he shoved his tongue inside of your mouth, willingly tasting his cum off of your tongue.
It didn’t take long for you to feel the pulse of his cock again against your thigh. “Oh, wow!” you stammered, shook. “You’re still—“
“Hard? Hell yeah, I am. I haven’t gotten sex like this in months since I was reincarnated.” Plus, watching you in the shower for weeks did the trick. He needed to get off by you and only you.
He cupped your pretty face in his hand, throbbing when you leaned into his touch. “You still want to, baby? I’m good with just oral.” Thankfully, you shook your head, biting your lush bottom lip. “Then tell me what you want,” he whispered. “Tell me just what my baby needs.”
He saw that fire spark in your eyes and knew that you needed this just as badly as he did. “Fuck me, Toru. Right here in the shower.”
Suddenly, you hands were planted flat on the shower wall and Gojo’s big feet were parting yours as he stood between them. His big cock slid against your puffy, dripping pussy lips, teasing your entrance and clit, drawing soft, needy whimpers out of you. You pushed back, pushing his head into you himself, and he gave you the rest of him, slowly pushing his hips forward. “Fuck!” you both gasped when he entered you.
He felt you clench around him and you began to tremble. “Good, mama?” he asked. “You need a minute?” He gently stroked your back, gently drawing himself back so some of his shaft is out of you. You nodded, still trembling and breathing shakily. “J-Just a little. You’re so…so…big!”
Gojo chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Thanks, baby. Bigger than your hubby, you said.” He then snaked a hand in front of you and began to stroke your clit with his long fingers, making you moan in pleasure. “Bet I’ll make you cum in seconds. Bet I can make you squirt for days.”
He lapped and sucked at your earlobe as he continued to rub your clit in semi-circles, feeling it get slippery on his fingertips. When you turned your head, he kissed you, sloppily swirling his tongue with yours while he tweaked your nipples with his free hand. The more he stimulated you, the hornier you got, and the hornier you got, the more your pussy opened for him.
Soon, he had no problem slowly fucking you, making you take every inch of his thick, long cock. Your moans grew louder and uncontrollable, mixing with the pounding of the water against the tiled floor. You turned to face him over your shoulder, your eyes desperate. “I-It feels good now. You can fuck me now, Toru.”
Gojo swore you just said that you were giving him a million dollars. You might as well have because that pussy he was fucking was worth a million bucks!
He wasted no time fucking you with a bit more vigor, causing you both to moan and gasp as his cock massaged the inside of your gushy, velvety pussy walls. Gojo’s toes curled and his balls tightened at the feeling. Having not gotten any pussy in months, he was feening to release, but he held on for you…but the noises you were making wasn’t helping his cause. “Oh, yes!” you gasped. “Fuck, Toru, it feels so good! Fuck me harder!”
He raised an eyebrow at you, generously stroking your full ass as he continued to stroke your pussy with his cock. “Harder? You’re just a freaky little mommy, aren't you?” Without a word, he hooked one of your legs up and sunk in deeper, caressing your G-spot as he began to fuck your pretty brains out.
He ogled at the way your ass bounced and recoiled against his pelvis, your wet tits jiggling with every thrust. He pressed his front against your back, wrapping one arm around your midsection to trap you against his body. “You’re so goddamn perfect,” he groaned in your ear. “I fit inside you so well.” You keened as his cock continued to massage your G-spot, making you press back against him. “N-No,” you whimpered. “My body…the kids—“
SMACK!
One hand came down hard on your ass, making you squeal as the sound ricocheted off of the shower walls. “You’re beautiful,” Gojo fiercely whispered. “You’ve got the body of the woman I need in my life.” And to show you, he fucked you deeper as he gripped you to him, keeping your leg up as he released your cute tummy and rubbed your desperate little rosebud, wanting badly to make you cum. “You like this?” he hotly panted. “You like takin’ all this bachelor dick, hm?”
You panted in ecstasy, your eyes squeezed tight as he continued to slam into you, taking you over the edge. “God, Satoru!” you moaned. “Ngh, f-fuck! You’re so good!” Gojo pressed his mouth to your cheek, whispering in your ear, wanting you to completely come undone in his arms. “Cum then. Show me how good it is and wet this cock f’me, baby, c’mon…”
And you did. It only took a few more thrusts that took you straight to space to make you whine as you came all over his cock, just as intensely as your first orgasm. Gojo nearly busted a fat load in you as your pussy gripped him tighter than a vice, but he resisted. He needed more. Wanted more. He needed to make this shit count.
So he kissed your cheek as you rode out your orgasm and gently lowered your leg on the shower floor. “Good girl,” he cooed. “But I ain’t done with your sexy ass yet.”
SMACK!
He gave your ass another smack for fun before he sloooowly pulled his cock out of you, groaning when he saw how slick you are. He then turned you around, getting a good look at your fucked-out face and sparkling eyes. “Up you go!” Gojo chuckled, scooping you up so effortlessly in his arms. “I’m gonna fuck you against this wall, love, and you’re gonna love every minute of it.”
And you did. You enjoyed every second of him pounding your pussy against the shower wall, your legs dangling from his waist and your arms wrapped tight around his neck as he bounced you up and down on his thick, long dick. Every gasp, moan, and lewd whine you made was a drug to Gojo; he couldn’t get enough of you, needing you again and again.
“Ah, ah, Toru, yes!” you gasped, your eyes rolling back as his cock plunged deeper and deeper inside of you, your clit rubbing against his stomach. “Harder! Yes, fuck me! Fuck me like there’s no tomorrow!”
The bachelor leaned in to give you a sloppy French kiss, sharing a muffled moan with you. “Whatever you want, mamas,” he panted against your lips. He’d fuck you for however long you asked him to. Even if his thighs cramped and his balls couldn’t produce anymore more fresh cum (which he didn’t think was possible if it was for you), he would still take you to Poundtown on the Big Dick Express as many times as you wanted!
But the more he fucked you, the more his end drew near. He can’t any more of how amazing your pussy feels wrapped around him and how you sucked on his tongue when you kissed him. You pulled away with a wet suction sound, making his cock twitch and swell inside of you. You’re grippin’ me so tight, sweetie,” he groaned. “I-I don’t think I can hold on much longer!”
You cupped his cheek in one hand as you continued to hold onto him like a koala bear, water dripping over both of you. “Don’t. Fill me up, Toru. Cum for me.” Gojo practically melted, biting his lip as he fucked into you deeper and harder, emitting louder moans from your pretty lips. “So you want me to give you a baby? Want me to fill this pretty pussy with a kid?”
Gojo could picture it—you plump with his child, those pretty titties dripping with milk. He could see all five of you—him, you, his pretty little wife, the twins, and a new addition to the family. Maybe a little you or a little him that he’d spoil the same way he would your twins. He’d spoil you too, giving you endless gifts, trips, and dick that would leave you shaking and smiling deliriously from so many orgasms.
He promised. The next time he came, it would be a deal. And from the way you were gripping on him, you were counting on it. “Toru,” you whined. “Please cum for me, Daddy! Give it to me!”
Gojo’s thrusts grew sloppier and rougher as he chased his orgasm while trying to give you yours, the wet slapping of his thighs against yours and his balls against your ass filling the steamy bathroom. “Take it!” he groaned. “Ah, f-fuck—take my fuckin’ kids, baby! Take all of me!” And with a moan fit for a porno, he shot every ounce of his spunk inside of you.
You moaned into his shoulder as you came too, your pussy clamping down on him, trapping him inside of you, forcing more of his cum to flood your womb. You shivered and shuddered, panting and gasping as he unloaded in you, gripping you tight to him in fear of you disappearing. You continued to cum as he did, your cum dripping down his balls and spraying onto his abs.
“Shit, you squirted f’me!” he cackled. “Oooo, my baby loves all of this big, young dick, doesn’t she?” He squeezed your cheeks between his hand, making them squish so cutely together. “Y-Y-e-es,” you hiccuped. “T-Thank you.”
"God, that's gonna make me cum again!" Gojo groaned. "You want more, baby?" You lazily nodded, allowing him to pull out and gently lower you down before gently pushing you onto your knees and cumming on your tits.
Though it wasn't a lot of cum, some droplets of warm spunk till sprayed onto those perfectly wet, full breasts, making Gojo moan at the lewd sight.
It was official: you were his now. He sighed, helping you up from the floor, and wrapped you up tight. "Now, say it to me again?" he coaxed. "What do you say to me for givin' you my cum?"
"Thank you, Toru," you whispered, staring at him with such adoring eyes. He smiled, pressing a kiss to your puckered lips. “You’re welcome, mamas. Now let’s get you out of this shower and in a bed.”
He cut off the shower before helping you out and putting your robe back on you as if you were a little doll. Then it was back into his arms you went, your feet dangling off of the floor as he carried you bridal style out of the bathroom and back into the hotel suite. “Toru, wait!” you squealed. “You don’t have to—“
“Hush,” he firmly replied. “I just fucked the daylights outta you, so your legs probably feel like jelly. Allow your bachelor to take care of y—“
“What the fuck?!” came a sudden, enraged scream. There stood your husband, still in his undies and red in the face with fury. “Naoya!” you gasped. You tried to hop down from Gojo’s arms, but the bachelor held on tighter, gripping you tight to him.
Gojo looked into the eyes of Satan himself previously. He wasn’t afraid of anyone. Not even your angry husband. “Who the fuck are you?! Why the fuck do you have my wife?!” Nayoa demanded.
Gojo just smiled, still a cocky asshole at heart. “I’m Gojo Satoru, ex-bachelor and reality star who died a couple months ago. I’m also the guy that just fucked your wife in the shower since you haven’t been doin’ it AND her new possible husband…in time.”
Naoya was shocked into silence, wondering how the hell this man had the gull, before turning to you with a scary slowness that alarmed Gojo. “You,” he hissed. You managed to wriggle enough in Gojo’s arms to slip out and gripped your rope tight around your naked body. “Naoya, I can explain—“
“You. Fucking. Whore,” he growled, cutting you off. “I should’ve known you were sleeping around with someone else.” He took several steps toward you, practically frothing at the mouth. “When I get my hands on you—“
The bachelor stood in front of you then, shielding you from view with his body. “You won’t be gettin’ your hands on anyone,” Gojo snapped. “And you should’ve known this would happen because you’re a shitty ass husband who can’t please his wife.”
Naoya paused, still in Gojo’s face, balls fisted at his sides. You peeked your head out from behind Gojo, looking saddened. “I’m sorry, Naoya, but…this just isn’t working. I was wrong to think a vacation could fix us, but…” You paused, slipping your wedding ring off of your hand. “I think we should get a divorce.”
You tried to hand it back to Naoya, but he wouldn’t take it, staring at you as if you were dirt. “You don’t mean that. You won’t survive without me.”
Gojo hummed in disagreement, managing to quench his anger quite well considering that he was picturing punching Naoya in the jaw. “That’s where you’re wrong, because she’s got me now. And if you try to come near her, I’m takin’ us both to Hell.” His voice was deep and raspy, deadass in his promise.
Naoya must’ve realized he was serious before he looked at you for help. But you were done. Finished. And to prove it, you tossed your ring at his feet and stood in front of Gojo this time, jaw set and shoulders back. “Get out,” you whispered. “Now.”
And to Gojo’s surprise, Naoya listened. He scoffed, kicking the ring away. “Fine, you bitch,” he spat. “I should’ve left you a long time ago. And you can have this suite; it’s too fuckin’ small anyway.” Gojo smirked to himself, watching as Naoya stormed passed him. “Just like you, I’m sure,” he murmured under his breath.
Naoya stormed to the bedroom, got dressed, and stuffed a bag full of a few items before returning to the living area. You followed your now-ex-husband to the hotel door, Gojo close behind just in case. When Naoya stepped outside into the hall, he turned and glared at you. “But just so you know, everyone here and at home are gonna know that you’re nothing but a slu—“
SLAM!
Gojo slammed the door in his face, cutting him off, and turned you with a smile. “That’s enough out of him,” he chuckled. “Now let’s get you in that bed.” You smiled, still looking a bit saddened, but you also seemed serene. At peace. “Can we watch the sun set first?” you softly asked.
Gojo was helpless to deny you. For the next couple of minutes, he sat with you on the long stretch of balcony with a private hot tub (Gojo would be staying far away from that) and lounge chairs that overlooked the gorgeous, golden sunset shimmering on the ocean beyond.
You sat on his lap, right on his cock, and smiled at the sight. "It’s so beautiful.” As you admired the sunset though, Gojo admired you and the way the sun’s rays illuminated your skin. “Yes, it is,” he murmured and kissed your shoulder. “Wanna make it even more special?”
You must’ve been on the same type of time as he was because moments later, you were bouncing on his cock again, this time straddling him with those luscious thighs as your ass recoiled against his pelvis. “Oh, fuck, Toru, baby!” you bellowed in ecstasy. “That dick is so fucking good!”
Gojo watched you in awe and arousal, loving how your tits jiggled in the sun and your moans rang out in the blue sky. He gripped you by your hips, letting you ride him like a stolen car, jerking his cock with your pussy. “Ah—, fuck I know, baby. And you get to have it all the fuckin’ time now.”
You smiled down at him, taking his finger into your mouth to suck as he cupped your cheek and ran his thumb against your bottom lip. “Don’t you worry, mama. I’m gonna take such good care of you and your twins. Make you both so happy.”
You smiled and leaned down towards him, causing you to sink deeper onto his cock. “I know,” you whispered and pressed a soft, sweet kiss to his lips that lasted an eternity to Gojo. “Now be a good boy and cum for me again.”
“Yes, Mommy.”
And with the next load that he gave you in your pussy and painted your ass with in the sunset, Gojo held onto his promise to you. He was going to give you the best life as your new baby daddy...and soon, new your husband.
Reincarnated as a pixi stick!?!?- the duke's second life
Duke Gojo was sent to hell for his whorish ways before he met you - his pretty Duchess. You were reincarnated as a human, but Duke Gojo? Well, he's a pixi stick full of molly! That falls into your hands as you're partying at a rave for your birthday, now your reincarnated lover is demanding to know why you're dressed like such a harlot! Is he a Bridgerton cosplayer on April Fools, or is he really your past lover!?
warnings- cracked out asf, drug use, brief plug Suguru cameo, Satoru being jealous and confused by the modern era, p in v sex, oral, titty fucking, squirting, spitting, creampie, tummy bulges, size kink, honestly a lot of emotions and feelings for a crack fic, reincarnated lovers hehe
This is for object! gojo event (for my 50k followers/ birthday hehe) I literally am so self induglent here as reader is born on April fools, ty to @uhnosav for always helping me with these!!! a/n at the end <3
art is by @levitonin hehehe <3
You’re dancing in the strobing lights of the rave, the music undulating and thrumming, the bass so loud you can already hear your ears ringing the next morning. Sweat dripping on your skin, the heat from the sea of the bodies making you dizzy, mixing with the shots in your system, warmth rushing through your veins.
You’ve had a terrible set of nightmares recently, a pair of blue eyes glinting – perhaps it was an alien, or a demon, you’re not quite sure. But you’re hoping that you can get it all out of your head tonight, it was your birthday after all – what better to do than party for it? Your friends practically dragged you out for it.
What sort of birthday was April fucking Fool’s day!?
You’d hated it your whole life but you suppose you’ll have fun at this party, when a man is dancing on you, normally you’d back off but you should let go and have fun for your birthday, shouldn’t you? Let his hands on your waist, tugging you against him, feeling as everything starts to spin around you.
“Hey,” he asks softly, you turn your head and blink just a bit, the lace of your fishnets pressing just a bit into your thighs.
“Hmm?”
“Wanna do some molly?” You blink curiously – you think you’ve heard of it. “It’s kinda like coke, but way better.”
“I mean…” The demons in your head practically whisper – fuck it. You only live once, right? Make a fucking night of it, terrible decisions and all, you’re an office worker by day, no one would ever expect you to be dressed in bright pink with these damn neon boots, and no one here really knows you.
Your friends are all off dancing and they’d probably condone the psycho Aries nature you have, anyway.
“I guess so?” He chuckles a bit and takes your hand, you worry just a bit if you’ve really fucked up when he hands you a pixi stick, a tall blue one with a plastic casing – like the ones you buy in the front of the stores. “Um!?”
“It’s got molly inside, it’s a special one,” he kisses your lips then, you cringe just a bit at the sloppy attempt. “My treat, birthday girl.”
“Thanks?” He walks off and you’re a bit off to the corner of the rave now, it’s just a little less loud but you’re around where everyone is making out, kissing each other and grinding all up on one another in the halls towards the bathrooms.
You sort of excuse yourself – everyone is on something here, so it’s not that taboo or wild to go sneak off and take something. The thing is, the guy didn’t really explain what the fuck to do! You sigh and peer at the baby blue pixi stick, you’ve never seen one this blue – it’s almost reminiscent of those creepy eyes that have been haunting you.
“I’m already fucked up,” you mumble, popping it open and then finding the guy again, he’s already dancing with someone else. “Um… hey…”
“Birthday girl!” He grins and looks down at you.
“How do I…”
“Oh shit, just take a tiny bump,” he mumbles, as if he hasn’t handed you a giant fucking stick of mdma. He takes the stick from you and pulls a teeny bit out, you take it and then he closes the pixi stick back up. “There, that’s all you’ll need – keep that for another time.”
“Shit… okay…”
The music starts sounding all - wha wha wha - and you get crazy dizzy, dancing with the damn pixi stick like it’s your partner. You’re giggling as you jump up and down in time with the dj, feeling how fucking good you feel, your eyes shut and you bounce up and down in your pretty pink platforms, when suddenly the pixi stick falls from your hand.
“Oh shit,” you try to blink yourself back into reality, when a tall ass, white haired man is standing in front of you instead. You gasp, stepping back, but he grips your wrist, wearing some insane fucking regency era clothing. “Are you like… a bridgerton actor?”
“A bloody what?” You hear his fancy accent, and then look into his eerie blue eyes – and that’s when it hits.
You remember those eyes from your nightmares.
It can’t be… but it feels like you know this… actor? Cosplayer?
"Duchess?” He gasps and steps back – as sure as his days are you his pretty duchess from his past life, fuck he’s wondered for so long if he’d ever see you again, but he’s been cursed and bound to this fucking pixi stick!
It’s you though, those pretty fucking eyes that used to look up at him, the same body he remembers in a tight corset is now freely shown in scraps that count as clothing. He can see your tummy – the one he remembers having stretch marks from your children, now all smooth as the day he met you.
What.
The.
Fuck.
What has happened to his duchess! Even if it’s another life, shouldn’t she remember him? Rather than looking at him as if she’s scared, his Duchess wasn’t scared of shit, his Duchess hit men. Fuck, you hit him all the time, especially when you were riding his cock.
The memories make Duke Gojo ache, even if he’s been trapped for years now in this godforsaken pixi stick, he knew you reincarnated too, he’d fucked you throughout every inch in hell when you were sucked away one day. The deal to get back to the living? Live in a goddamn pixi stick of MDMA and wait for someone foolish enough to take it.
Well, your birthday was April Fools.
“Um you’re staring at me,” you murmur now, all shy for having your tits and thighs all out, fuck men were all staring at what’s his.
“Don’t you remember me? Really, Duchess?”
“Um, you’re cosplaying hard core,” you laugh nervously, seeing this handsome man staring down at you, cupping your face delicately and brushing his thumb over your cheek. You suck in a breath – are you so fucked up you think that you’re in love at first sight?
You do love Bridgerton, fuck that Duke was hot… maybe…
“What are these harlot clothes on my wife!?” You blink in a haze as the white haired man in the weird costume gapes at you.
"Um…” You look down at the floor, then back up at him. “Where did my molly go?"
He glares down at you now – how insolent is his duchess to get his goddamn name wrong, too? "My name isn't fucking Molly - it's Duke Gojo!”
“Duke, hmm,” you giggle now, leaning close to him, he feels so fucking good, god he even smells good, you watch him blush when your hands slip up his chest, feeling the material of his jacket. “This is so authentic! You’d think it was real!”
“Of course it’s real, tch,” you feel too damn good, his hand on your waist, feeling the curve of it, his cock twitches and he realizes just how long it’s been, at least five years in this dumb stick, and you’re easily in your mid twenties.
He was alone in hell for twenty years, and now his Duchess doesn’t even know him? There better not be that goddamn Mr. Nanami here too.
“You’re hot,” you’re giggling all drunk and fucked up, as if you’ve had too much of that sherry you used to throw back, he sighs, shaking his head.
“Let me guess, you didn’t eat.”
You pause, blinking and stepping back. “Um… how could you know that?”
“In any life you live off nothing,” he rolls his pretty blue eyes now, shaking his head and tugging you close against him, watching your eyes get even more dilated underneath the flashing lights that are annoying the shit out of him. “You really don’t remember me, do you bratty girl?”
“Your eyes look familiar but…” You sigh, realizing just how fucked up you truly must be. “I’ll get a ride um, do you want to come home with me?”
His eyes narrow. “Inviting strange men to your home like a brothel girl?”
“You’re so rude,” you shove now and scowl, turning away. “Fuck it then, I’ll go hit up my ex.”
“Your EX!?”
“Mhm,” you’re stumbling and giggling when you rush through the crowd, everyone compliments Duke Gojo’s outfit as he pushes through, following that pretty backside twitching in your slutty excuse for a skirt.
What has fashion come to?
What year is it?
“Duchess get your ass back here now!” You’re walking up to a man who looks just like Suguru Geto now, wrapping your arms around him and letting him spin you onto the floor, he’s got these metal things in his lips and nose but it’s fucking Suguru.
“Hey pretty birthday girl,” you all are exes but still good friends, sometimes you hook up and do just a bit of coke or smoke together, and Suguru eats you out. But you all just didn’t work in a relationship.
“Sugu! There’s a hot british dude calling me a duchess,” you look behind you and Suguru snorts in laughter.
“Fuck am I that high?”
“I think the molly got me…”
“Molly? You shouldn’t take that shit,” he frowns and you roll your eyes. “Seriously, you don’t know what people put in it. You should only trust things from me.”
“You’re just being a little yandere plug,” he snorts and tilts your chin up, eyes darting to your lips.
“You don’t miss me? Should I lick your pretty pussy for your birthday?”
Oh fuck.
“Excuse me!? No one’s licking her but me,” the duke guy has tugged you back angrily, you’re giggling even more when he wraps a possessive arm around your waist. “She’s my Duchess, Suguru.”
“How do you know my name!? Am I this fucked up?”
“I think he’s from the future-”
“You’re acting like a little foolish brat,” Satoru grumbles, picking you up suddenly, you gasp out. “I’ll go to your place, then. Fetch a carriage.”
Suguru and you burst into laughter. “Are you sure you wanna go with the Bridgerton dude, princess?”
“Don’t call her Princess - that’s what I fucking call her,” Satoru is making you soaking wet all possessive and shit, and you do feel like you know him – even if you may just be fucked up. “Tell him you wish to go to your chambers with me.”
“Oooh, chambers,” you giggle again, letting him carry you all bridal style in his arms, you don’t know just how much it means to have you in his arms again, even if you’re covered in some obnoxious glitter all over. “I’m good Sugu, promise.”
“Call me if you need me?” You nod but Satoru has already carried you out, the cool night air hits your skin, brushing against your skin and making your hair brush back, his pretty eyes looking at you under snowy lashes, you can’t help but bite your lip, feeling your heart fluttering fast behind your ribs.
“Hi,” you murmur, he sighs, frowning at you, hugging you closer. “Need me to fetch your carriage?”
“Indeed,” you smile and pull out your phone, Duke Gojo frowns at the sight of all the monstrosities swerving on the road. Cars were just made when the two of you died, and they looked nothing like these do.
You look at him curiously, seeing just how thrown off he is by the world around him. “Are you really from the eighteen hundreds?”
“So are you,” you hum a bit, frowning now, ordering a ride as he continues to just hold you. “I’ll get you to remember me, once I’m buried inside your cunt.”
Your fingers trace down his jaw, biting down on your lip. “Oh will you?”
*****
Well he certainly does.
Satoru Gojo or – the Duke as he calls himself – ripped your pretty pink fishnets with a loud tear in your room, shoving you down on your bed and burying himself between your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh as the mesh leaves its marks. His lips are hungry and desperate, just a little clumsy as if he’s been out of practice, but he quickly finds your clit.
He sucks it in his mouth and hums, fingers shoved inside your needy hole, you try to remember he’s a stranger and you’ve really only been with Suguru, but it truly is as if he knows your body. He’s sucking your tiny clit and vibrating his mouth better than any fucking toy, your fingers are entangled in those silky white locks, tugging.
“Duke… hah, duke,” you’re giggling and making him scowl up at you. “It’s just you eat pussy so well for a ‘gentleman’.”
“Hah,” he snorts against you, biting your clit and making your hips jerk up at the shock, looking at you under those fluffy lashes. “I’ve never been a fucking gentleman, slutty duchess.”
“Oh? Oh!” Satoru leans up and tugs at your chin.
“Open.”
You do just that, and the slutty duke spits a filthy trail of saliva right in your open mouth, letting it slip down your tongue and into your throat, you gasp, swallowing it as he grins.
“They did that in the 1800’s?”
“No, but I did,” he smirks and kisses you all messy, your cunt throbbing around his fingers as he keeps curving them up, fingertips almost touching your cervix, the pressure making your core ache. “Your cunt is just as loud as it always was.”
“Y-you’re kind of a dick, ngh!” He’s got you squirting right down his fingers, making a whole fucking mess, you tug at his annoyingly accurate cravat as your squirt drips down to your bed. “Naked. Now.”
“Demanding little brat in every fucking life,” he quickly rids himself of it, then slips off his blue velvet jacket, left in this flowy white linen shirt that makes you gush even more, he smirks. “You’re just as messy as I remember.”
“You’re so crazy I’m starting to believe you,” he is naked with his thick cock, all veiny and drippy, white drizzling right down from his pretty pink tip, you barely bite back a moan at the sight of it, spreading your thighs.
“Like what you see, duchess?” He taunts, you can still feel the Molly that was inside this… pixi stick!?... of a man rushing through your system, if this was some laced shit you were down for the night. Who doesn’t wanna get railed by a six-foot-four white haired Bridgerton man on her birthday?
“Fuck me,” he blinks a bit and blushes, you were rather bold but it’s been some time since he’s gotten to be with you, and he doesn’t like the thought of who made you this bold. You sit up and take his cock in your hand, spitting right on his tip and holding your tits together. “Do you wanna fuck them first?”
“God I am furious at whoever taught you this,” in his lifetime he was the one who taught you to fuck your pretty tits, but he’s missed you too much to argue. Duke Gojo slides his cock between your tits now, grabbing the fat of them and moaning as he holds them together, the tip slipping up and jutting against your chin. “Fuck, fuck…”
“Mnh,” you’re so wet from the sight, lapping at his tip and sucking it into your mouth with every stroke, his hands rough on your sensitive nipples, squishing your tits even closer so he can move his cock up and down. “Wh-what do I call you?”
“Hah,” he sighs, fucking even faster between your pretty, squishy tits, spitting down so his cock glides even easier, the saliva glittering on your skin. “You can call me Toru, you used to call me that.”
“Oh,” you feel it then… it’s fucking familiar, this psychotic stranger must be something special to you. Or your drugs are hitting really good, but he’s so quickly jerking his cock back and shoving you down, you almost can’t comprehend. “Ah! Toru…”
“Fuck,” he’s done for at hearing it from your soft voice, one that’s screamed at him, cried to him, moaned his name – years and years he spent with you, just to have you again, he can’t help but glide his cock through your slick and shove right inside. “Oh m-my… fuck you’re tight…”
“Ngh!” You’re stuffed full of Satoru then, his tip gliding inside your gummy walls, the tip pressing on that spongy little spot, you’re trembling as he shoves fully inside – as deep as he can – bottoming out, his heavy balls smacking your ass.
Your eyes dart up to his as he moans out, a hand on your tummy, smirking at you then. “I can’t wait to fuck my heirs into you.”
“Heirs? I… ah!” He’s too far gone, fucked out from two strokes in your pussy, when you shock him, using your thighs to flip his ass right back around.
“Sh-shit…”
You flip him down on his back, straddling his hips with your thighs pressing, he sucks in a breath, his hands slipping up your hips, thumbs pressing in. You reach down and take his cock, sliding it up and down your messy slit, easing it in your hole, easing down on it until you sink right down – his cock bulging in your tummy, he watches it and sucks in a breath.
“Oh f-fuck,” you lift your hips up and then slide right back down it with a roll of them, his tip slamming against your puffy cervix. “You’re riding cock like that!?”
“Hah, am I good at it, Toru?” You practically purr those words out, riding his cock like you’ve known how to, he’s blushing so cute across his pretty cheeks as your little hands rest on his hard chest, nails pressing in the pale, hot skin that stretches across his muscles. “You like me fucking you?”
“Oh you harlot,” you giggle and ride again, until he’s losing it underneath you, damn near panting as he grips your hips even tighter, bucking them up inside your slutty hole. “Who taught you to ride dick like this!? It better not have fucking been that dumb baker.”
“Baker?” You’re so fucked out you can barely register his nonsense, slamming down even harder, reaching for his fingers to suck them in your mouth, his lips part at the sight. “Mmm, no, I’ve only been with one guy.”
“Suguru?” You blink a bit curious, he takes his fingers out and smacks your tits, making you suck in a breath. “Answer me, slutty Duchess.”
“Y-yes, just him – ah!” He’s smacking your tits harder, scowling now. “What!?”
“Couldn’t have waited for me!?”
“To what, be a mdma pixi stick? I didn’t know - ngh!” Satoru snatches you up and tugs you forward, slamming his cock up inside until your eyes roll back in your skull, your lashes fluttering. “Toru…”
“You’re my duchess,” he chuckles as you start drooling, and he’s fucking his cock so deep it hurts, moaning at every sharp thrust that fills you up. “At least it was Suguru and not Nanami.”
“Who is… Nana – fuckkk,” you can’t speak or focus, not when he’s lifting your hips up, his feet planted flat on the mattress, pounding his fat cock in and out of your sloppy cunt over and over. The smacks of skin and squelch of your wetness are fucking loud, echoing in the room, you’re about to cum again, drool spilling that he swipes up with his tongue.
“That’s it, can feel her – hah, cum all over me duchess,” you fall apart, and he sucks in a breath, moaning as his gut tightens with need, feeling his own release building. “Gonna fill you up, have you dripping me on your birthday, huh? My gift, slutty girl.”
“Please, please,” he pumps one more time and takes you right with him, filling your cunt so full of his white ropes, moaning your name into your lips, and that’s when it fucking hits you.
Memories of a lifetime long ago.
Balls you danced at, smacking his face, him being a devious slut, you being messy and dramatic.
“Oh fuck…” You gasp and lean up, and he sees it written all over your face, grinning at you. “Satoru?”
“Yes,” he breathes out, jerking his hips so more cum hits your cervix, leaning up on his elbows to kiss your lips, feeling your cunt fluttering around him in her aftershocks. “It’s me, baby.”
“You were… I was…” He cuts you off with a kiss and you fall into it, fall into the next round where he’s got you on all fours and fucks more cum inside, as the white drips down his cock and falls onto the bed, making a mess. “Toru!”
“God I fucking missed you,” he buries his face in your neck, busting even more white cum, flooding your needy pussy till she can’t take anymore. “Mine, all mine. Can’t ever fucking leave me, even in death.”
“You’re psychotic,” your mumble has him amused, and soon Satoru is in your shower, naked, enamored by the modern hot water. “Do you like it?”
“I do in fact,” he smiles as he remembers baths with you – washing your hair for you, holding you close and running his hands along your body. The hot spray of the shower hits though, and he does enjoy this invention.
“I missed you,” you whisper now, memories flooding in as he cups your face, your hands slipping up his chest.
“Not enough to not fuck my best friend?”
You laugh and he glares. “He doesn’t know you in this life!”
“It doesn’t matter, tsk,” he sighs now. “At least I know Suguru fucked you good, Nanami though…”
“Wait! I know a Nanami but he’s not a baker,” you tap your lip and he scowls down at you. “He’s a co worker!”
“You’re not working there any fucking more,” you burst into laughter, making him tug you against him. “You’re not.”
“And what job will you do, duke, hmm? Someone has to pay the bills,” he grimaces at the thought. “You’re not rich in this life.”
“Fuck me,” he picks you up then, pressing you on the wall – the eyes of the evil, bratty, slutty Duke Gojo you loved, melting your heart. “Then I’ll just have to make sure you’re so fucked out you never leave.”
“Mmm, I don’t wanna leave, can be my sugar baby,” he raises a brow, you can’t stop your giggles. “Sugar baby Duke Gojo – oh it works! You were a pixi stick.”
“Oh you’re just as fucking bratty as ever,” he spreads your thighs and slides his cock in to the hilt, you gasp out with a ragged little breath, as he moans against your skin. “Never leaving me again.”
if you wanna read what it's based on here is Silent Serenades! my personal favorite of any of my stories. thank you AGAIN for 50k it actually blows me away, I love each and every one of you who enjoy to read what I love. A million kisses! Also TYSM for ALL your birthday wishes, I feel so special hehe.
You love being Satoru Gojo's girlfriend, he dotes on you, takes you on dates, spoils you - just one little problem, you are perpetually ovulating around him! Is wanting your nerdy boyfriend's cock in your mouth really such a bad thing? Satoru wants to wait for the perfect moment for your first time, though! He'll totally wait even when you're wearing that slutty lil dress and grinding on him, right?
pairings - nerd! gojo x girlfriend! reader
warnings - cute and silly, oral over panties/boxers, Satoru edging tf outta us -- reader is horny, Shoko/Hime, Sukuna being a fratboy dick, jealous Toru, rough blow jobs, p in v sex, first time, squirting, teasing, fingering, creampie, consent, breed kink, making your nerdy boyfriend feral and spit in your mouth <3
art creds here!!
this was a comm for my angel @cantarcantar!! ty for understanding that my life was like INSANE - ilysm for being patient <3 wc - 10.1k
It took you almost two years of crushing on Satoru Gojo to actually become his girlfriend, and you’re loving every minute of it. From being too damn shy to admit you like him, to very awkwardly trying to confess and every chance just utterly failing – to then instead becoming the very best of friends.
You two were finally ‘officially together’ as a couple.
Oh, and it was everything, being in his arms, swallowed up by those huge biceps he had hidden underneath his starch white dress shirts. Hearing that little laugh from his lips, all of those sweet little kisses he bestowed upon you – truly, all the feelings blossoming between the two of you in the most beautiful way, especially over the months of truly being his girlfriend.
He’d take you out for all day movie marathons, going to play bumper cars, mini golf, you name it – Satoru was down for it. Every date was a meticulously planned out one too, with little to no down time aside from the drive to and from. Perhaps that’s where you would sneak just the littlest pecks on his neck, hear his sighs as he gripped the gear shift of that fancy sports car.
Satoru adored you – and you adored him.
You were all his. There was no one else in the entire world than the boy who could never quite tie that tie on correctly, always just a little crooked for you to straighten out.
Yet with that came you being unreasonably horny all the fucking time, who wouldn’t be with Satoru though? Those long fingers pressing into your waist, the way that bulge pressed between your thighs, plump lips slipping up your throat. Every time it even got just a little close, maybe you were grinding so good that you were about to cum from that – he paused it.
Wearing a cute, bashful little smile on his face, fogged up, thick rimmed glasses – murmuring sweetheart in a voice that’s designed to make your pussy drip, and you feel like a complete pervert for wanting to beg for more. God, imagining his cock in your throat alone had you desperate and needy, let alone having him filling you, pumping you full, taking you first.
Maybe you are a pervert, truly.
You’ve tried so hard to be patient, you want him to want it as badly as you do, but every time you’re making out with your boyfriend – the top of the dean’s list and ultimate dungeon master for DnD – Satoru Gojo?
Every time his big ass hands grip your waist and he drags you down against his length, before he puts a pause on it?
You can’t even think about it.
You’re pumping your fingers in your needy cunt just thinking about it after every damn date with this boy. Whining out in your bed with your hips bucking up, gasps escaping your lips desperately in your empty room. Pumping faster and faster until you’ve got that sticky release all over your hand.
It’s almost as if you have this sort of ritual now, before you see your boyfriend and right after/.
Your rose toy is probably fucking tired of you.
As if you don’t you ache so damn bad around him it’s painful, hard not to shamelessly hump his thigh till you cum. No, the toy? This takes the edge off just a bit, but even the way you moan his name in your sleep is endlessly hilarious to your poor roommates that have to hear you between the walls of your off campus apartment.
“Still a virgin?” Utahime asked with a laugh when you had woken up this morning, getting ready to see Satoru.
“Not by choice,” you grumble, shaking your head and grabbing a coffee pod from the little rack, popping your favorite inside and pressing the on button. The aroma hits immediately, waking your tired brain.
You’d had the filthiest damn dream of him fucking your tits, cock sliding up and down in messy strokes that had you needing a damn shower right now.
You’re just perpetually ovulating.
Satoru is the perfect boyfriend, truly he is. He’s sweet, he’s a gentleman despite his blue eyes and where they glance too long. Mostly, he cares. You’ve fallen so in love with him so quickly over these past few months, but every time you think that things might progress, Satoru stops it. Gently lifting you up off his lap and sighing, kissing his way up your jaw, his snowy lashes tickling your cheek.
‘Sweetheart, let’s pause this,’ he would murmur those words all sweet and sultry against your skin after almost sucking on those nipples that just stay hard around this man, instead hovering a breath away so it ghosts your tits. Those huge hands brushing just underneath them.
It’s torture, really.
‘Oh, okay Toru,’ you’d whisper back, he’d moan and kiss up your neck, breaths tickling your skin. ‘Mnh…’
‘You’re so beautiful, god look at you.’
It was just wrong to talk to you like that!
“You poor baby. At least you have your toy collection,” Shoko teases, sneaking in and brushing your hair back. “Extensive, too.”
You flip her off, peeking at the phone then and seeing Satoru's name pop up.
Study session?
“Dick session?” She asks, you gasp, as if affronted at such a suggestion.
“I would never assume such a thing!”
You hope so.
*****
It’s not.
No, it’s not a dick session at all.
It really is an actual goddamn study session – both of you were sitting there in Satoru’s living room, his place was far fancier than anywhere, but that came from him being the Dean’s very son. It intimidated you a little at first, but now you’ve grown comfortable, as he made you feel so special.
Today though?
Well, you can’t focus on anything but how badly you’d love to kneel and suck your nerdy boyfriend, his thighs spread wide all slutty.
God his legs are long.
You bet his cock is-
“And this equation?” Satoru teasingly asks you, distracting you from your slutty freaking brain.
You're not even sure what stumbles out of your mouth for an answer, without saying how thick you think the circumference of his cock must be.
That is something you’ve done with your past experiences, and you know you’re good at it. You could easily deep throat a man and you wanted to see his cock so damn bad – could he be a challenge, though?
Your eyes drift down his chest, he peeks at you curiously.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asks casually, spinning his pen between his fingers and studying you. “Hard question?”
“Um… yeah, a very hard time…”
Stop that! Stop looking at his dick print!
“The question is hard?”
“Uh… the question… yes.” You feel like a damn pervert every time you’re around him, can’t you chill and let things happen when they happen?
He sighs and stands up, stretching his arms up over his head, his abdomen revealed when his dress shirt rides up, showing those little v cuts that make your ovulating brain just a million times worse. It’s like you’re in heat. It's so pathetic right now – maybe you should avoid him till it stops.
“Let’s take a break then.”
“Yeah?”
He chuckles at how eager you are at the thought and comes up to you, leaning down with a hand on each arm of your chair, tilting his head so some of that soft white hair falls over his forehead. You brush a bit of it back and he kisses your palm, lips warm and sweet.
“You’ve been such a good girl, how can I not treat you a bit?” Your heart hammers in your chest, until those next words spill from his lips. “Boba?”
“What? Huh?” You blink as he eases back, pulling up his phone and leaning against the desk. “Boba??”
“Yeah, Boba, I’ll buy you some, I know you love it,” he smiles curiously as you bury your face in your hands. “No Boba? Matcha then?”
“I’m um…” About to cum if he touches you once even. “No, I guess Boba is fine. Thanks Toru.” you manage to say, thighs pressing together, Satoru frowns, kneeling now and gently taking your hands off your face, seeing your blush.
“Are you sick!? You’re all flushed!”
“I’m not-”
“You’re burning,” he touches your cheek in concern, and you almost fucking feel bad – you’re not sick, you’re ovulating. “Baby girl, let’s get you to a doctor right now!"
“No, no I feel fine, I’m not warm because of that,” you shift in your seat and whine out at just that friction. “Promise.”
He frowns and watches you carefully. “You’re hurting, it could be the start of something!”
“Well yeah I hurt,” you sigh as he spreads your thighs and kneels between them, shoving at him. “You’ll make it even worse down there.”
“I’ll make what worse, exactly? Your…” He trails off then, seeing your panties and blushing himself, pink dancing across his high cheekbones and dusting them in that rose. “Y-your… your panties are so… uh… s-soaked and…”
You should freak out at this proximity, at just how much he can finally see of you, but all you can do is whine again, as his eyes shoot back up to yours. “I’m okay, promise.”
“Am I neglecting my pretty girlfriend?” He asks softly, just a little nervous. Satoru has never touched anyone but you, but he’s extensively studied the female anatomy, and how to make you cum.
He just wanted your first time to be perfect.
That’s why he was waiting – the last thing he needed was for you to not enjoy your first time, though he knows you’re a little more experienced than he is – Satoru’s hardly kissed anyone before you. Not because he couldn’t – he just had no interest in that sort of thing until he met you – and even then, he really couldn’t find the damn courage to ask you out forever.
“No I’m being a damn pervert,” you cover your face and he chuckles at that.
“You’re being a what, now?”
You sink into the seat, mumbling. “You heard me.”
He’d been your best friend for so long, thinking there was no chance in the world – always jerking his cock with any article of clothing you’d leave in his room, like a filthy depraved pervert – and you think you were one perverted here?
Does him wanting the timing to be just right making you think that?
Satoru exhales softly, just a hint of what he wants to say slipping from his plump lips.
“What, do you touch your little pussy thinking of me?”
His voice has you lowering your hands, he spreads those thighs and slides up your skirt, making you moan out, head falling back, your hands gripping the arms of the chair even tighter.
“Wha-?” You can’t even finish your damn word.
“Asked you a question, baby.”
“God,” he’s diabolical without knowing – or maybe he does know. You’re trembling as you lean back, letting his thumb brush on your clit and gasping at the touch, already getting slick from a brush on your skin. “What question?”
“Not paying attention, tsk,” he clicks his tongue and his teeth nip your inner thigh, sinking in and making you whine out. “Do you touch her?”
“Y-yes,” he hums a bit, tugging your panties up until your lips are visible, that dark spot growing as slick starts pouring. “Please…”
“Be patient, baby,” he leans back now, smirking at you. “Show me?”
“Are you sure you…”
“Please? I wanna see so bad,” you blush now, you masturbate sure – but not in front of people! “I’ll show you?”
“Show me you um… jerking off?”
“Yeah, I mean… yeah?” You sigh a bit.
“Toru…”
“Mmm?”
“Why don’t I um… suck you?” He is bright red now, he’s almost busting just thinking of your mouth – that won’t do. His first blow job and he busts in one go!? No, Satoru has to jerk it three times before he gets the privilege of fucking your pretty little mouth, of feeling your pink tongue on him.
“Not yet.”
“Not yet? But you’re so hard,” you giggle and tease him with your foot nudging his thigh, he glares and catches it, shoving it wide. “Not yet, then. So you just wanna see me touch myself?”
“God yes, dreamed of that since…” He trails off then, he doesn’t want to admit just how long he’s jerked off to you, because it was before you even knew who Satoru Gojo was. “Lemme see.”
“Okay…” you lean back, running your fingertips over your panties, slipping underneath and leaning your head back, eyes fluttering shut, hearing Satoru’s soft little whine. “Toru…”
“Fuck,” he thought he could handle this, but he’s utterly failing, he can’t even see your pretty pussy and he’s already throbbing, leaking so much pre it hurts, sticking to his brand new digimon boxers. “You’re s’pretty, sweetheart.”
You blush as you look at him with dazed eyes, running little circles right around your puffy clit, coated in hot slick as it dribbles out of your panties. He swipes some of it on his fingers, studying it carefully, his tongue going to lap at it, moaning as the sweetness coats his tongue.
“Oh you’re t-tasting me,” it makes you needier, until you have to plunge two fingers inside your messy, quivering hole, that loud squelch echoing in your ears. He’s gripping your thigh with one hand bruising until you cry out.
“Fuck, so s-sorry… baby I hurt… y-you…”
“No, no, like it,” he moans and puts his hand back on your thigh, squeezing again so hard it aches. He's jerking his cock faster, whining out when he sees your slick fingers pull out of your panties. You press your cum soaked fingers to his lips and he eagerly wraps them around, sucking them off. “Toru…”
“So sweet, my pretty girlfriend,” his glasses fog up when he leans down, licking your inner thigh that is trembling, sliding higher until his tongue is on you – but it's not on your skin, it's on the soaked cotton of your panties.
“Fuck…” he moans as he gets those juices that are spilling through the fabric, his and squeezing his own cock as your thighs sit over his shoulders.
“More, please,” you're tugging at his hair so hard it hurts, bucking up your hips for more. “I need you, please.”
“Such a needy girlfriend,” he murmurs, thumb circling his drooling tip, looking up at you with desperation in his pretty blue eyes. “You want me to lick it more for you?”
Your answer is a little nod, even having him lick you over your panties is more than you've ever had done, and fuck it feels good. Sinful as he trails a long, slow stripe over the fabric, the tip stopping right over your twitchy clit, his moan is muffled against the damp cotton.
“Toru!” He's lost in your scent, in that taste, the little hints of lace decorating your panties rough against his tongue, the sound is fucking filthy.
Satoru tugs those panties up more firmly, strings of gossamer saliva dripping and dissolving, peering up at you with flushed cheeks. “Like that, baby? Is this what you were thinking about instead of studying?”
Your only answer is to nod quickly, a jerky little motion as he sees those puffy lips just swallowing the damp material. He swipes his tongue over and over, the heat and wetness of his mouth making your entire body tremble. You feel it heating up, hearing the messy sounds of his own cock fucking his fist, wishing it were your throat instead.
"Oh god, Toru," you whimper out it so pathetically, your hands tangling in his soft white hair, fluffy and silky underneath your touch, trying to pull him closer, to shove his face where you need it. “Not enough, mnh!”
He chuckles against your puffy cunt, the vibration and the quick lave of his tongue have you on edge. Pulse racing as he had the audacity to tease you, landing a wet smack on your cunt that had you pathetic.
"Ah - ah," he clicks his tongue, catching your wrists in one of his stupidly large hands and pinning them against your waist, smirking at you in a way that's utterly not dirty at all. "No touching yet, sweetheart. I'm taking my time with you."
“Meanie,” he chuckles again, but you love it – feeling that strength as he grips you so tight. “My panties are ruined, Toru.”
“Mmm. Yes they are,” he tugs them again, looking at how wet the material is, just a pathetic little scrap of fabric with your juices pouring.
Instead of showing you mercy and moving them, he just presses them further against you again, tongue shoving that fabric until it's flush with your needy clit, you swear you can feel his tastebuds as that tongue drags through the fabric, pausing everywhere that has you jerking and honing in.
Like this nerdy boy is studying you.
Oh. He is.
He's methodical, almost clinical with his research of your needy, clothed cunt just separated by this pathetic little piece of fabric, his tongue pressing more firmly against your soppy lil hole. She is pulsing around nothing, torturous strokes, pressing his fingers up and down, you're hot and sticky underneath his touch.
“Toru!” Your wrists are still pinned, his cock forgotten even though it's dripping down onto the soft, plush rug below his knees. Satoru finds your clit again and looks up under snowy lashes, you watch the drips of slick connect with that wickedly long tongue.
“Mmm. I bet I could see myself inside you,” he whispers, you suck in a breath at that, as if he is measuring the distance of your entrance to your belly button, easing your wrists to tug up your top, nipping your puffy lips over the fabric. “Scientifically.”
“Then experiment, scientifically.” He chuckles like the little shit he is, finding your clit once more, a hand pressing where he imagines his cock would bulge out.
“You are so needy f'me, s'pretty like this,” his words slur as he wraps his plump lips around your twitchy clit, barely concealed and swollen underneath the cotton material that is dripping wet. He pulls it in his mouth and sucks it hard through your panties, humming against you.
You're aching, cunt filling his hungry mouth as your hands land back on his hair, his movements making you cry out and buck your hips against his mouth for more.
“So sweet right now, god, look at that…”
Satoru is so close to cumming when he grabs his cock at the base again, squeezing so goddamn hard – he could almost bet that if he felt your cunt without the fabric, he'd spurt his white ropes everywhere.
Make a mess of you.
“Mnh. You close, sweetheart?”
Your answer is a jerky little nod, as he keeps torturing you with this fucking barrier, his teeth grazing that tiny clit ever so lightly through the fabric, making you scream out, your head falling back. Your panties are absolutely ruined now, utterly transparent with your slick and his spit coating them, your sweet little cries rushing through his ears.
Satoru? Well, he laps at the mess he's making happily, his tongue coating the entire area in circles that deliberately avoid that spot until you're twitching, tears falling down your cheeks.
"Such a messy girl," he moans out those words, eyes black when they peek up at you, his voice husky as your slick clings to his lips. "Soaking these pretty little panties f’me.”
“Please, Toru… move ‘em please,” he smirks and decides to have mercy on you, tugging them to the side of one of your lips and exhaling, watching the slick drool and spill down. You gasp as the air hits your cunt, already aching and needy, the dampness making it a cool shock.
“Fuck, you're so pretty,” he murmurs, his cock just about to bust without his touch, he glides his tongue from your ass all the way to your clit, looking right up at you. “Is this what you were thinking of, hmm? My tongue inside you?”
“Your cock, too,” he chuckles against you, but just a couple more flicks has you close, as he spreads your cunt wide, studying your every expression.
“Look at that. My slutty little girlfriend.”
Satoru is trying his best to hold it together, but when his tongue glides into your gummy walls and they grip him, he's too far gone, slurping up every bit of the cum that just pours out. You shatter so damn pretty, squirting all over his face, dripping down his chin until it's glossy, his cock starts pulsing right with your hole, imagining her milking him.
“F-fuckk….”
“Toru, mnh! S'good I… please…” You’re overheated, body sensitive, it’s just not enough, even with his tongue lavishing every bit of your pussy.
Not enough.
“Please what, baby? Mnh,” he grips his veiny cock as he cums with his tongue on your clit, more of your mess drenching his throat, his face, his shirt. His white ropes coat his hand, lashes fluttering shut as he savors your jumping clit in his mouth, whining against you.
“Want your cock in my mouth, Toru please…” he exhales, breath making you jolt, looking up at you with a blush.
“I um…” he leans back on his knees and you see the mess, blushing at it.
“I didn't touch you though…”
“Didn't need to,” he's clearly a little embarrassed, you take his cum soaked hand then – dripping white – and wrap your mouth around one of his thick fingers. “Oh fuck…”
You suck him right off, tasting that salty white substance and moaning as it hits your taste buds. Satoru pulls back and laps it off his own fingers, before kissing you right with it, the mess spilling between your mouths and dripping down.
Satoru Gojo – your nerdy boyfriend with an insane Digimon collection was a fucking freak, greedily drinking his own cum off your mouth.
You’re trembling when the door knocks, and you faintly remember that he has ordered you boba. He’s the epitome of a perfect boyfriend after that, considerate, caring, cleaning the little rivulets of your own release from your inner thighs – you’re stuck back on the opposite side of the bed, cuddling him and watching a movie.
Satoru even has the audacity to snore after, heavy body wrapping as you ache to get filled by him – at least the movie was so damn boring you drift off right next to him.
****
“I’m gonna die a virgin,” you mumble to Shoko and Utahime the next weekend, aside from more heated kisses and grinding on Satoru’s thigh after your well planned out dates – nothing.
You’re aching.
How much use could your rose toy really see!? And now you even have two more toys going along with it, though you doubt any of them are getting close to Satoru and how good he must feel. No ‘clit sucker’ could come close to what that nerdy little mouth could do.
“You look like you’re dying, girl, damn…” Utahime earns your glare. “Is it that bad?”
“He finally got me off and…” You blush now, unable to finish your sentence, remembering his tongue drinking up your juices.
“Does he know what a clit is?”
“Very much so, it was so good.”
They look surprised.
“You all have no clue, he really was,” Shoko laughs at that, leaning back and hitting the vape, handing it over to you. “No, no.”
“You need a smoke, sweets,” you grimace, brushing your hair back, pacing back and forth as the two girls watch you, snuggling with each other. “You’re pacing holes in the carpet.”
“I can’t handle this, I just… god I wanna suck his dick, is it so terrible? He hasn’t even let me touch it. I sound like a horny ass man, I hate it. I wanna respect him, I really do.”
“You wanna respect him with his cock in your throat?” Shoko finishes.
“Yes. I mean!? I will respect him without the cock in my mouth! You two are menaces.”
They’re laughing like the brats they are, blowing smoke in each other’s mouths, you damn near moan in frustration. Satoru’s gotten you off that one time, then since then he has gone right back to worshipping you in the sweet way he always did, as if you’ll what – forget about his tongue?
His stupidly long fingers…
The cum on your tongue that you lapped right off!?
The taste.
“Ugh -” you lean back and sink further into the couch. “I really am gonna die.”
“Can’t die, we’ve got that party tonight,” Utahime teases, kissing Shoko’s lips and giggling just a bit, you pout at the two of them.
In public Satoru would kiss your hand at best.
Where on earth even had that freak come from that spit his cum in your mouth last week!? He’s all gone again – the pocket protector wearing Nerd Gojo in his place, like some twin fucking took over for a minute.
“I can’t go to a party and get drunk, I’ll make a fool of myself around him, one drink and my pussy has a mind of its own…” You finally sit down, plopping back into the seat. “I feel like a pervert.”
“You are! Let’s just call you fucking pervy Sage.”
“Hey!” You glare at Utahime, Shoko is inhaling another puff of smoke, you cough just a bit.
“Hah – Sanji from One-”
“Don’t even!? I’m not that bad,” you huff at her, frowning now. “I swear I'm not trying to be pervy. God, what is in this weed?”
“Hmm,” Shoko tugs Utahime on her lap. “I wonder if he's scared you'll like … bite his dick.”
“You're so fucking mean,” you cough a little more, eyes watering as you scowl at the two of them.
“Look slutty, like really slutty,” Shoko walks up now, tilting your chin up and crooking her lips up at the corner. “Something that screams – fuck me.”
“He licked my panties and didn’t even…”
“Really slutty,” Utahime agrees, tapping her chin. “Ooh! I know, I have the perfect outfit in mind, that little black dress of yours.”
“But it’s too small for me now! It’s from like high school, and thanks to you two cooking all the time, my hips-”
“Exactly.”
“Exactly what? Oh…”
You trail off now, realizing what everyone knew – that Satoru loves your hips, he grabbed on to them every chance he got, even when he was just a little bit shy.
“Okay…”
They kiss again in front of you, laughing a bit, making you lovesick for your man – your nerdy man who you wish would kiss you in that way, tongues all dripping. It’s not even fair.
“All lovey dovey, fuck you both.”
They’re so hot and rude laughing at you – you decide to just disappear, you don’t need your hot ass best friends making out in front of you when you’re already in pain from the constant edging from Satoru. You are rushing to your room and trying on outfit after outfit, before finally deciding on the exact fucking one they brought up.
You would look as sexy as you could and hopefully get your boyfriend to not be able to resist you.
But also you’ll respect his decision, dammit! You can wait as long as he wants to, even if you were absolutely gonna put your tits and ass out there for him. Looking in the mirror and touching up your lipstick, swiping a finger across your lower lip to smudge it just a tad.
“Oh damn you look hot, Sanji,” Utahime says when you come out.
“I am not Sanji.”
“You are.”
“Fuck you both!”
*****
Satoru can’t keep his damn eyes off you.
Fuck you’re pretty tonight.
That damn little black dress clinging to your skin is fucking ruining Satoru’s mind, brain short circuiting as the two of you navigate the insanely packed frat house, one of his hands on the small of your back protectively. People are all bumping into everyone, stumbling around, absolutely no chance he lets someone hurt you by accident.
Moreso, Satoru Gojo can’t get his fucking hands off you, no, he can feel your warmth right through the thin layer of cotton material, fingers splaying across it. He reminds himself in his head over and over just what a horrible thing it would be to fucking take your first time at a frat party, even as he has to adjust his cock, turning from you to face the wall for a moment.
“Everything okay, Toru?” You ask softly, hand on his back, he laughs, a fake and terrible attempt at being normal, turning right back around to you.
“Me!? Yes, yes. Do you need a drink, babydoll?” He asks.
The music kicks on as he speaks, and all you can see are his plump lips forming words, ringing from how damn loud they’re blaring the worst dance music known to man. “What!!”
“A drink!!”
“Huh?”
“A DRINK-”
The music pauses for just a minute, switching to something else but leaving multiple people to stare at Nerdy Gojo shouting.
You blink a bit at his shouting, he swears he’ll kill Suguru and Nanami for having the audacity to fucking laugh at him and his pain. Them smoking weed earlier and trying to give him every tip known to man on how to bury said tip right against that surely cute little cervix.
As if Satoru hadn’t studied extensively.
“Yes, please,” you smile all pretty, letting him guide you through, he just about loses it from the sheer amount of eyes locked onto you, gripping you just a little too tight, feeling the curve of those breedable hips underneath his fingertips.
Imagine having them bent over, his hands fit so perfect-
No, he can make it another night, a dumb frat party was not the time or place for something so precious as your first time. Even if you smell that good, and you’re dancing all over him, giggling, your ass brushing right against where his cock has tented his dark jeans.
Your drink in one hand, the other in his as he pulls you against him, for a nerdy boy, Gojo can absolutely move his body. You feel so goddamn good against him, with your waist in his grip now, his lips pressed against your ear – he can inhale that sweet scent you just naturally fucking have.
That’s when he realizes he’s about to cum if your ass rubs up on his cock one more damn time with those heels making you tall enough, he could bend you over and slide it right in. God he bets you’re so wet too.
Satoru has to pull back, making you blink just a bit in confusion, he downs the rest of his drink, smiling apologetically.
“Bathroom, sweetheart.”
“Oh, um… okay, want me to-”
Satoru runs the fuck off.
Maybe you’re doing too much, shit… you were absolutely grinding all up on Satoru because you were craving him so bad. You needed to give him more time! If the roles were reversed, you know he would, even if he may want to as badly as you do. Going to pour yourself a shot, you throw it back and let your eyes shut, sighing just a bit as it burns your throat.
You need to ease up and let Satoru take his time, even if you have to press your thighs together to resist the needy urge of rubbing your cunt on anything right now.
Maybe you are fucking Sanji.
*****
Satoru’s leaned back on the door, unzipping his pants and seeing his reddened cockhead, and just how fucking swollen it is. He’s jerking his cock desperately, whimpering out as the door gets knocked on, banged on in fact by fucking Sukuna of all people.
“Gotta take a piss man, stop jerking it.”
“I’m not!? I’m pissing right now – w-wait,” Satoru is jerking it of course, but how dare Sukuna call him out on it. Dickhead fratboy that he is, he’s chuckling outside of the door, but none of it is getting rid of Satoru’s throbbing erection.
He’s just way too needy, too sensitive, he can see his reflection in the mirror – those flushed pink cheeks. Sukuna thankfully fucks off, but Satoru can't even cum with just his hand, not when he knows your little fist would feel so much better, when your mouth and pussy would grip him.
No, Satoru is left tortured.
*****
You are alone for some time, concerned if he was somehow drunk or sick when the leader of the frat – the slutty ass, pink haired jock named Sukuna comes up to you, sipping his cup and flickering his red eyes up and down your face.
“Hmm, Gojo left you all alone?”
“And?” You scoff, rolling your eyes at him now, he smirks just a bit, leaning close. “He’s busy. Okay?”
“Mmm… yeah,” he peeks over his shoulder now, then looks right back down at you. “So.”
“So, what?”
He grins all big. “Wanna play beer pong?”
“Beer pong?”
“Mhm,” he tugs at a little lock of your hair. “Bet I stomp your ass at it. Look like such a good girl.”
“Hah you think I've never been to a party!?”
“Never seen you before aside from with your nerdy lover boy,” he pours you a drink now and inclines his head.
“I've partied, just… usually me and Toru are busy.”
He snorts at that.
So busy your boyfriend is jerking his cock in the bathroom.
“I see, so busy, huh?”
“Yes but…” you curse now, shaking your head. Satoru has been gone fifteen minutes and won't answer a text, a game of beer pong wouldn't hurt. “Fine then.”
It doesn’t take long until there is an entire gathering of people to watch you absolutely annihilate Ryomen Sukuna in beer pong, to the point he is fucking furious. You're landing the pong ball in every cup, decimating the entire frat at a certain point, giggling as you study them, down to the last shot, against Sukuna again.
“Beginners luck or some shit,” he’s fucking furious – you swear you see his vein ticking underneath his jaw.
Satoru is still not here.
You’re worried but you’re also enjoying the cheers, especially when you land that last one, giggling as the frat brothers who were talking all that shit about the nerdy girlfriend of Satoru moments before are now staring in disbelief. With one final, perfect arc, the ball splashes into the last cup.
It really is beginner's luck.
But.
Also, fuck Sukuna.
"Damn, girl!" someone yells, and you take a little bow, rubbing it right in Sukuna’s face now, who is slamming down the rest of his beer.
Surely he drank enough to get annihilated – but somehow still standing just normal, big ass man has some insane tolerance because those eyes look completely aware.
"Guess I'm not such a good girl after all, huh?" you tease Sukuna, who's standing there looking down at you, setting the cup down and crushing it.
“Hmmm,” his red eyes dilate just a bit as he steps closer to you, suddenly making you feel just a bit nervous.
Satoru hates Sukuna.
It’s well known, since high school the two of them have been overcompetitive and absolutely insane against each other. He’d be fucking furious if he saw you anywhere near him at all. You peek and see him across the crowd then, getting a text from Shoko blinging on your phone.
He’s really mad.
He is.
You get another text now from Utahime, biting down on your lower lip.
Make him jealous and maybe you’ll get dicked down, Sanji.
“I’m not Sanji,” Sukuna raises a brow, lips twitching. “I’m not.”
“Sanji? Who the fuck is that?”
“One piece?”
“Nerd – hey, wait,” you’re turning and he grabs your wrist for just a moment. “Shit, I mean… you’re right, you’re not a good girl, huh?”
“I sure beat your ass,” you say, pausing when he reaches out, his fingers surprisingly gentle as they brush a stray piece of hair back from your face, rough knuckles brushing against your cheek for a second too long.
"You did, you're full of surprises, brat.”
“Brat? Whatever…”
You can feel Satoru’s eyes on you – you’d pull back, but part of you wonders if making him jealous would bring that freak out that spit cum in your mouth – maybe you are a brat. You sip your drink, remaining normal.
“I’m dating Satoru, you’re too close.”
“Would nerdy ass Satoru know what to do, how to handle your ass?” He taunts, your eyes narrow, his laugh echoing despite the music as your boyfriend starts shoving his way through. “Show you that digimon collection?”
“I’m very pleased, thank you.”
“You look like you need to get your attitude fucked right out of you,” your fingers itch to slap him now. “If he fucks up, you know where to find me.”
“No thank you, I- Toru!”
Satoru is between you and Sukuna, shoving him off and glaring right at him – perhaps the two tallest men at the party right face to face, Sukuna’s smirk making Satoru want to punch him.
“Why are you so close to my future wife?”
“Wife?” You blush and he glares at you.
“Yes, and baby momma – but you’re being a brat,” he whispers, Sukuna snorts at that.
“She is a brat.”
“You can’t call her that,” he shoves the big ass man and takes your hand now. “She has better shit to do than talk to you.”
“Aw, but we were having fun,” Satoru is dragging you away, you blink just a bit, almost scowling at Sukuna who blows you a kiss.
What a dick.
BUT.
Satoru is fuming, and he’s hot.
You’re so toxic!
“What’s wrong, Toru? I was just playing some beer pong,” you say all innocently, as he drags you past everyone, you’re struggling to keep up with his long strides. “Um… what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong!? Hah,” he’s laughing, psychotic and feral like you turned on a switch in his brain, when he finally starts getting some privacy. “Everything.”
“I don’t get it…”
“He was hitting on you,” Satoru yanks you away in the center of the party, you barely bite back your giggle at how excited you are to see him this way, looking ever so serious when he glares down at you.
Maybe you are evil, loving how mad he is, how jealous he is when he presses you against the hallway wall on the other side of the party, you can feel the music humming through the walls, but not as fast as your heart is racing looking up at your blue eyed boyfriend. Blue eyed angry boyfriend.
This isn't sweet Satoru at all, no – he's completely fucking unhinged, his chest rising and falling with his quickened breaths, cupping your face and jerking your chin to look up at him.
“You think he was?” You ask softly, making him raise a brow. “I thought he was just… being nice?”
You make him laugh without humor now, thumb brushing across your lip. “Are you being bratty, sweetheart? Teasing me, making me jealous?”
“What? No,” you straight up fucking lie to his face, batting your lashes all innocent and cute, but you can tell my that little smirk he doesn’t buy any of it for shit right now.
“No?”
“No, I was just talking, Toru. Isn't that fine?” You trail your hands up his chest, wrapping your fingers around to hook behind his neck, tugging him down to face you. “It’s fine for me to make friends, isn’t it?”
“Not when he's looking at these pretty tits,” he cups one, making you suck in a breath – your needy boyfriend is never this bold. “They're not his to look at.”
“Oh?” You lean forward now, tip toeing as he leans low, thumb brushing over a nipple, making it perk up for his touch. “Are they yours? Yours to look at?”
He’s losing it, his pulse hammering behind his ears, in his wrists, everywhere was hammering, his mouth practically salivating as he cups that tit right where anyone can see, big hand squishing it. You gasp out at the sensation, your lashes fluttering closed, little whines mingling against his lips.
“Yes, mine, every inch of you is mine,” Satoru shakes his head now with a soft laugh. “He thought he could dance with you. Kiss your lips? Lips that are mine.”
“All yours,” you open your eyes and giggle again, earning his scowl. “Sorry you're just so cute like this.”
Satoru blinks.
“Oh, I’m cute?”
You go to press a kiss when he snatches you up in one swoop, you gasp and wrap your arms around his neck now. Thighs trembling as he carries you to some room he finds, stumbling you in and shoving you right against the door.
“You think I'm cute,” he presses his cock against your slick heat, slutty little panties practically ruined for him, grinding his cock until you're gasping out. “Well I think that you're a brat.”
You gasp. “Me?”
Two people calling you that.
Well… maybe you are.
“You are bratty, with those pretty fucking lips,” he's kissing you filthy, tongues dancing, saliva dripping between you both, easing you down so that you slide against his body achingly slow. “Maybe I should shut your bratty mouth up.”
Oh fuck.
“Yes please?” He glares at your big fucking grin.
“On your knees then, sweetheart,” you so eagerly obey, he laughs softly, his heart hammering in his chest, a mix of being utterly furious, nervous about his first time, and dumbstruck by the sight of your heart eyes. “Look at you, bein’ such a good girl – but are you really that desperate to suck me?”
“Please yes,” you have no shame – all you want is Satoru’s cock deep and buried in the back of your throat. “If you want though! C-consent.”
“As if I haven’t wanted this for years,” he shakes his head and tilts your chin up, sighing. “I wanted to do it all perfect, to lick and kiss every inch, worship your body until you were writhing, so fucking needy for it.”
Satoru unclicks his belt, the metallic click hitting your ears. “Mnh… years?”
"Years," he repeats softly, unbuttoning his jeans entirely too slow for you, you go to move your hands and he halts them with a little smack, you bite down on your lip, aching. “Hands on your thighs, you’ll listen to me for once, since you’ve been driving me so fucking crazy.”
“Me, making you crazy, really,” you do as he says though – eagerly – palms on your thighs, he laughs a bit, the sound of his zipper lowering echoing in the room even with the reverberating walls.
“You know every time you drag that messy cunt on me it ruins me, right?” He draws out that word, sighing now. "Every time you wore those little skirts and bent over, every time you'd bite your lip while concentrating…”
Satoru drags a thumb down your lip now, achingly slow against the plumpness that moves underneath it, your teeth nip on his thumb teasingly, and then you let him push your mouth open.
“Open real wide, sweetheart,” you do just that, and he can’t help but whimper as he presses down on your tongue, as if he’s studying the recesses of your open, eager mouth. “Wider, can’t you? For me?”
You listen eagerly, opening wide and fucking obscene, your tongue out for any bit of him he wants to give you, core just aching.
“Fuck, I've imagined this exact moment."
Satoru won’t tell you just how long he has, either, he swallows – just a bit nervous now.
“Suck,” you suck his digits, slurping them and moaning around them, imagining his cock instead, loving how dominant he’s being. “Stop.”
You obey, making him raise a brow.
“You like me tellin’ you what to do? Is that why you got me so fucking mad, so jealous, to have you listen?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, as he shoves his jeans down, and the hard, thick length of his bugle strains against the thin fabric of his boxers. “Pokemon? You traitor!”
“I can’t wait to shut your mouth up tonight,” you giggle at that, Satoru sighs and frowns at them, brushing your hair back a bit. “They were a gift, okay?”
“I’ll buy you digimon ones.”
“God, you’re so perfect,” you’re still giggling, when he gently smacks your face – the lightest little touch that has you almost moaning. “Open up again, yeah? Be a good girl, baby.”
“Mmm, yes,” you nod your head, doing just as he says – the side of freaky Satoru you only saw hints of last week when he’d lavished your panties with his long tongue.
“You got me jealous on purpose, yeah? Wore that slutty outfit to fucking ruin me, wanted cock in your throat that bad? Got me fucking leaking so much… fuck…”
Your answer is to keep that mouth open, leaning forward as you lap your tongue along the damp spot where his pre cum has already soaked through, right over a traitorous yellow pikachu. You’ll make more fun of that later, right now he’s jerking his hips, hissing at the drag of your cute lil tongue on him.
“Fuck…” You’re teasing him just like he did you – licking and sucking his tip over the damp cotton of his boxers. “Act so sweet and you’re evil, shouldn’t feel that good through that… mmm…”
Satoru’s letting you suck around his fat cockhead, slurping every bit of his white cum from it, tongue lolling right along that slit over and over.
“Torturing me back?”
“Yep,” you lick your lips, making him sigh, shaking his head now.
“Go on then, take what’s all yours…" his voice is low, hoarse damn near as he for the very first time pulls his cock out, letting it spring free, slapping against his lower abdomen with a loud, wet smack. “Can you fit all of it?”
You knew he’d be big.
You didn’t know he’d be that big, with his jeans undone all slutty, his pokemon boxers shoved down – his cock is perfect, just the right amount of thick and entirely too fucking long, with a prominent pale blue vein running along the underside. You’re literally drooling as he strokes it right in front of you, the head flushed a deep, pretty pink as it leaks white.
You’re soaked, fucking ruined.
“I can.”
You cannot.
Maybe?
You will try!
“Go on then, sweetheart, lemme see how good you can take all of me,” he chuckles as you lean forward without hesitation, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the tip. “Teasin’ me more?”
You lap your tongue up, keeping your hands right where he asked you too, sliding underneath so you hit that frenum. His sharp inhale is met with his huge hand tugging in your hair so hard it hurts, pulling at the hairs on the nape of your neck.
“Fuck… greedy lil mouth,” he’s damn near slurring his words when you swirl your little tongue around the head, lapping up the salty taste of his cock underneath, brushing along that vein. He whimpers out when you wrap your lips around it and suck. “Oh my… f-fuck…”
Satoru loses it the first time you really suck his cock, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head, pushing you down further as his other hand rests on the doorway, beginning to move so that he’s choking you. You’re whining out, aching to touch your cunt so bad you slide your fingers down.
“So desperate,” he tuts his tongue, fucking your throat now, his cock slamming the back of it as tears spill. “B-baby, is this s’okay?”
You pull back as he does, with a wet, filthy pop, grinning. “I want it, all the way deep in my throat, Toru, I can take it.”
“You can take all of it in that tiny lil’ throat? When she’s this tight?” He whispers, your nod makes him glare now. “Have you done this?”
You blink a bit. “Yes?”
“Then I’ll fuck your throat so hard you’ll forget anything but me,” he takes you over now, slamming deep inside, you’re whimpering as one of his feet spread your thighs, and you’re soaking his black boot. “That’s it, rutting on my boot and taking cock like a little slut, hmm?”
“Mnhgh…” you’re done for, this is exactly what you needed, him railing your throat until you can’t think, until you’re gagging and tears are spilling.
“Look at me,” he orders softly, you do just that as he presses deep, sniffling as you try to take all of him, he hisses as he feels his tip stretching that tight throat, his Adam's apple bobbing. “You know I fucking love you? And respect you?”
You giggle around him and he glares.
“You have to know if I’m gonna say all this,” you pull back again, fingers all coated in your slick, gliding it along his sticky tip.
“I know you love me, Toru. I love you…” He sighs, touching your cheek. “I love you talking to me this way, you could be meaner.”
“Oh? Fuck my frustration on your throat?”
“Please?”
“You’re ruining me,” he mumbles, slamming right back inside, now that he knows you’re okay, he can lose control, see how much you can take, as you grind on that shoe, nails now pressing in the muscles of his thighs, jeans slipping down. “Want our first time to really be right against this door? Shove your slutty skirt up and ruin your cunt for fuckin’ anyone?”
God, Satoru’s sexy like this, fogged glasses and all.
Your answer is to take him all the way, your nose brushing against the white hair, the tufts of it tickling your nose, he’s stuttering now, unable to stop himself from fucking faster, harder, the wet sounds mixing with his whines. He doesn’t hold them back, either, every time he does he feels a fresh gush of wetness even over that leather, he can see it shimmering as he pulls back and slaps his cock on your mouth.
“Slutty girl, this all f’me, huh? Not that fucking loser downstairs?”
“All you.”
“Hold that tongue out,” you do just that, and Satoru slaps his tip on your tongue over and over, as you keep grinding on him. “Can’t believe you’re this much of a pretty little whore, god I thought you were a good girl?”
“Toru… please…”
“Please what?” You just keep rubbing. “Desperate, fuck… stand up.”
You can hardly do that when he helps you by tugging you up, spitting directly in your mouth, you swallow it greedily, earning his pathetic moan as he turns you, shoving you against that door. “Mnh!”
“Stop me before I fill all your fucking holes with cum,” he’s kissing down your neck, his glasses cool against your neck, whines escaping his lips as he shoves that slutty lil dress up the gentle curve of your hip. “All of them, I’ll have your cunt drippin’, your throat full, fuck that ass while I’m at it.”
“Mngh, please, please,” it’s all you can do but to arch.
“That needy?” He’s tugging your panties to the side, dragging his tip up and down over and over, moans escaping his lips when he bends down, turning your face to him. “First time in a frat house against a door? You’re so wet do I even need to finger you right now?”
“Already did,” you answered, he laughs, shaking his head and kissing you, rubbing even more, teasing your slit with the fat head of his cock until you’re weak, your thighs shaking. “Please, please….”
“Please what, fuck your cunt for the first time? That’s what you’ve been wanting, me to lose it, huh?”
“Yeah,” he scoffs, teasing even more, mouth messy and mean as he bumps your clit, until you squirt right down his length, dripping all down the carpet.
Sukuna’s carpet – it’s his room you faintly notice, as you see the little pictures on the walls.
You wonder if Satoru meant that.
“Squirting already, haven’t even fucked you yet,” he pulls back and bends down, slamming his cock so deep you scream out, head falling back as he tugs your hair, making your ass arch out as he fills you. “Oh my g-god… baby…”
“Toru,” he lets you adjust to his thickness, the very first time your cunt has ever been filled – and this wasn’t how he wanted to do it.
He wanted to stretch you out – one finger, two, then three – but you’re so soaked you suck him right in. Such a tight, perfect fit he can hardly take it, bending down to press sweet kisses on your bare shoulders, easing back and shoving in again, taking your hand and placing it on your tummy, pressing so you feel it all.
“Feel me here?” He asks softly, desperately – worried for a moment with how tight you are that he’s hurt you, but your answer is to look back at him with those slutty, parted lips and dilated eyes, nodding. “Who’s inside you?”
“You, Toru.” you answer, cunt spasming as she’s already close, his body overtaking you, wrapping and tugging, shoving even deeper.
“Who’s first?”
“You.”
“Who’s gonna make this cunt stretch out?”
“Y-you and… ah!”
“Mine, mine… fuck you’re all mine,” Satoru gave you that minute to adjust, a last mercy before your nerdy boyfriend fucking loses his mind. “Mine, this pretty body, this perfect pussy… you… mine…”
“Yours,” you whisper it over and over as Satoru fucks your messy cunt, even though it’s hard to take, you’re so full it feels perfect, letting his hand wrap your throat, fingers pressing on either side of your windpipe. “Ah!”
“Hah – such a perfect fit, made f’me,” he’s fucking you so deep you feel him everywhere, cock gliding in and out of your sticky, gummy walls, fucking you so goddamn messy it's dripping down between your thighs. “B-babyyy…”
You arch for more when he pulls out of your cunt with a filthy squelch and you whine from the loss. “Back in, please…”
He lifts and carries you to the bed, thighs shoved wide, feral now as he shoves back inside and sees himself moving inside you. Every slick glide smoothing your puffy cervix, until she is bruised and aching, that dress shoved higher, panties tugged firmly to the side. He uses both to move in you, laughing as you gasp out, as your thighs tremble.
“Aw, is it too much, sweetheart? Too deep?”
Feral Satoru is here, mixed with sweet Toru, but his cock is anything but sweet – the way it stretches you out, fucking ruins you, pummels your cunt so deep you’re about to cum all over his length, already sensitive.
“Mhm!”
“Full of me?”
“Nghhhh…”
You don't know how the fuck else to answer, it all is entirely too much, the way he can see his cock print, his insane laugh, those blue eyes glittering with the frames fallen off. So blue it hurts to look at, eyes almost threatening to close.
“Nuh-uh, eyes on me, that's it,” Satoru keeps pumping into your cunt, leaning up to shove your thighs against your tits, smushing them as he fucks you dumb.
He knows it too.
“Can't think?”
“mmm, nnnhhh,” your answer is pathetic and just a babble really, as your nerdy, once virgin boyfriend pummels your messy, needy cunt until she's stuffed so full it hurts. Your nails pressing into biceps, digging in as he stretches your puffy lips on it.
“Can’t even fucking talk – already?” Your eyes roll back in your skull as his cock ruins your pussy, so deep you do feel him all over.
“Gonna pump you so full, hah will you finish college without me breeding your cunt?” Satoru Gojo is batshit insane, as he leans over you, bending you so that you're folded in half under his heavy weight. “What would you do then, hmm? If I breed your slutty cunt? Make you mine.”
“Want it, mmm,” you’re utterly fucking shameless about it, feeling his bruising grip, his cock getting creamy at the base as his heavy balls slap.
“Jerked it in the bathroom, had me so hard,” you bite down on your lip, gasps escaping your throat, eyes locked. “You love that, huh? Driving me insane, slutty dress, pretty body… god…”
He presses your thighs down enough to tug your tits out, gripping them and exhaling, thumbs brushing your nipples until they’re peaks.
"Look at you," he pants, "taking my cock so well, pretty girl. You’re just such a good little slut for me, aren't you?"
You can only moan in response, your body trembling as he hits that spot inside you that makes your vision go white, your answer is to grip his hips with your thighs, letting him cup your face, pumping you so full that you can feel it all over. Warm and hot when he whines out so pathetically in your ringing ears, slutty little moans falling from your lips.
“Takin’ all of it, god…” He kisses you even as you shatter, your cunt spasming all around his veiny length, milking him for every drop. “So fucking greedy. So needy.”
He leans down and captures your lips, spurts of cum still pouring, you can feel him twitching, nails pressing into the strong muscles of his back. “Toru… l-love… toru y-you…”
“Cock drunk, sweetheart?” He teases, like the menace he really is – but he also lovingly caresses your cheek. “You took me like you were made for me.”
“I did?” You’re so damn drunk off him you’re slurring your words, pussy achingly empty, feeling his cum slipping out.
“You did a very good job. Such a good girl.”
“Yay!”
Satoru snorts at you, shaking his head and peppering kisses, leaned up on an arm, his shirt half open, revealing the hard planes of his chest. “You’re s’cute… I wanted to take it easy your first time.”
“I loved it,” you admit, yawning now, peeking around the room. “Mmm, can we go home though?”
“Of course we will,” he kisses down your body though, breath ghosting your thighs, spreading them to watch the filthy mess of his cum pour out, groaning. “You’re wasting it all, baby.”
“Hmm? Ah!” Satoru scoops some of that mess up against his fingertips, shoving it right back inside your quivering hole. You’re gripping him tight, thighs clamping down on his hand, as he smirks. “Toru you’re… crazy…”
“Mmm, you really have no idea what I have wanted to do,” he clicks his tongue, pushing that cum deep again, watching your every expression. “Gonna keep you so full of cum it’ll drip everywhere.”
Satoru does not just fuck you once, no – he makes sure to bend you over in the backseat of his car, fucking cum back inside. Once you're at his house he is pumping ropes of cum on your tits, laughing at how messy you get coated in white, before spreading it all over your body.
Satoru fingers and fucks all that cum inside until you're a trembling mess in his arms, passing out and snoring.
“So funny you started all this but then couldn't keep up, hmm?” He teases softly, cleaning you up, cock sore from how you gripped him, how much he came. But even the sight of milky drops escaping your hole had him damn near twitching back to life, groaning against your skin.
*****
“Good morning,” your nerdy boyfriend is littered in pretty kiss marks, indentions of your teeth all down his neck, a loopy smile on his face as he stands there shirtless, glasses firmly back on.
“Oh! Good morning…” you thought you'd be the one to ruin Satoru Gojo, ride his cock till he whimpered and cried from overstimulation.
You had no clue he'd fuck you so good you couldn't sit up right without his help, cupping your face and leaning down to kiss your lips, tilting your chin up and smirking. You're a mess.
A pretty mess.
Hair fucked up, covered in fingerprints and hickies, taking the coffee he brings and sipping it, sighing as it hits your tongue. “Mmm… good morning.”
“Don't you look pretty in my bed?” He muses, smirking on his features. “I wonder what Sukuna thought of his bed covered in your squirt.”
A blush heats up your cheeks. “I didn't squirt that much!?!?!”
“You really did,” you shove him playfully, giggling then. “My cum too though.”
“You did it on purpose, his room!”
“Me? Never.”
Satoru absolutely did.
That's what Sukuna gets for hitting on his girlfriend, dried up cum all on his blankets – as if he could handle you ❤️
heheh i hope ya'll liked horny reader for a change!!!
you’d never date a frat boy—least of all him. that’s what you tell your friends, rolling your eyes every time his name comes up.
but then you’re slipping into his frat’s parties, because he texted you a selfie with “pull up. boring without u.” he finds you instantly, smelling like beer and cigarettes, piercings catching the light. he’s wearing that damn smirk that feels less like a greeting and more like a reminder that he’s already got you caged.
“knew you’d come,” he murmurs against your ear, hand already settling low on your back. he always has a red cup ready for you, filled exactly the way you like it.
he calls you princess when he’s drunk and pretty girl when he’s sober. he shoves his hoodie into your hands when you complain about the cold, only to tease you later for “stealing his clothes”. he corners you in the kitchen, the bathroom, the hallway that always seems to lead to his room. his lips are already chasing yours when he’s had one drink too many, hands kneading your skin, teeth tugging at your lip just to pull those sounds from you he craves.
he sends you snaps at 1:48 a.m., blurry and angled just right to hint at his toned body, captioned “bored”. you tell yourself not to answer. but your fingers must have a mind of their own because 15 minutes later he shows up outside your dorm, calling out “let me in, pretty” and you’re already pulling him in before anybody sees.
you’re not together but you fight like you’re about to break up. raised voices behind closed doors, your frustration spilling over, words you don’t mean thrown out of anger — “this means nothing to you, right?” “you just don’t care” “we’re wasting each other’s time” — then the next night he’s in your space again, telling you to open your door or hop on his waiting car. pulling you close, his face in your hair, a whispered “you drive me insane” while he apologizes with his lips on your skin, with hands that know exactly how to make you forgive him without saying the words.
and then comes the jealousy. some guy leans too close and calls you beautiful, and suguru is suddenly there, arm heavy around your shoulders. “she is, isn’t she? lucky me,” he says, voice casual, eyes anything but. when you pull him aside and ask what the hell was that all about, he scoffs, “you really want lil’ shits like him looking at you like that?” as if that is supposed to explain everything.
and don’t even get me started on the sex. he fucks like he’s claiming you, always marking you with hickeys and bruises you’ll scowl at the morning after because it’s just impossible to hide. you’re not together, but it’s as if he wants your body to declare that you’re his. he lives up to every rumor about his vicious tongue, his expert fingers, and even sinful dick. and even when it’s over, you’re left wanting it again and again and again, going for hours because that sweet little pussy wouldn’t just let him go.
you’re not together. you say it. he says it. everyone else just nods and shrugs like they believe you.
yet you end up in his lap during movie nights, wear his shirts he purposely accidentally left at your place, fall asleep on his shoulder when the all-nighters finally catch up. he scoops you up without a second thought, lays you in his bed, and never bothers going back to his brothers or the party he’s hosting. not when he’d rather have you curled up beside him until he falls asleep too.
you’re not together. but his toothbrush is next to yours. your perfume clings to his sheets. he knows your schedule by heart and which class you actually enjoy, and you know which tattoo he got first and the meaning behind every one that came after.
you’re both liars. both obsessed. both tangled up in something you refuse to name because naming it would make it real. and real things can break.
︵ ೀ mdni. casual with satoru ( but it’s actually not casual at all )
“stop talking and take off your clothes.”
you cut satoru off, staring at him from the edge of the bed. he showed up at your place talking about some mission, some curse, some dumb shit that happened with his students like you two were actually dating.
“why are you telling me this?” you ask, again. “we’re here to fuck, right? not play boyfriend and girlfriend.”
satoru pauses, then that lazy smirk spreads across his face. “yeah. you’re right.”
he doesn’t waste time. he pulls his shirt off, drops his pants, and pushes you back onto the bed. before you can say anything else he’s between your thighs, spreading them wide. he drags your panties down and buries his face in your pussy like he’s starving.
“fuck,” you moan as his tongue slides up and down, hot and wet. he licks broad and messy, then sucks your clit between his lips. you grip the sheets, hips bucking against his mouth. he eats you like he always does—greedy, sloppy, perfect.
but something feels different tonight.
every time you look down, his bright blue eyes are locked on yours. he doesn’t close them. he watches you the whole time, pupils wide while his tongue works your clit and two thick fingers push inside you. there’s heat there, sure, but something softer too. something that looks way too much like love.
you try to ignore it, but you can’t. not when he stares at you like that.
satoru curls his fingers and sucks harder. you whimper, thighs shaking around his head. without breaking eye contact he reaches up and grabs both your hands, locking his long fingers with yours. he pins your hands to the bed beside your hips and holds them tight while he devours your pussy.
“satoru—”
he hums against your clit, the vibration making your back arch. his grip on your hands stays firm, warm, almost possessive. those eyes never leave your face, even when your thighs squeeze around him and you start grinding against his tongue.
you can’t shake the feeling. it’s not just hunger in his gaze. it’s more. and it scares you how much you like it while he fucks you with his mouth and fingers, holding your hands like he never wants to let go.
synopsis : starting gym shouldn't be a big deal. unfortunately, neither should the pretty girl smiling at Toji. or the way she keeps touching him. or the fact that you've spent the entire day thinking about it. apparently, jealousy looks terrible on you.
You stood in front of the mirror, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, eyes narrowing at your reflection as you tilted your body left and right. You walked out of your room making a beeline towards Geto who was lounging in the couch.
“...Suguu,” you called out softly, brows furrowed. He glanced up from his book on the couch, instantly alert at your tone.
“Hmm?”
“Do I look… uhmm… fat?”
Geto blinked once, then set the book down with a small sigh. “Nope. Why, baby?”
“I just…” your fingers squeezed your waist, “...I feel like I’ve gotten chubby.”
Before Geto could say anything, Toji’s voice rang from the hallway. “The fuck is wrong with that?” he grunted, strolling in shirtless, hair damp from a shower. “More for me to grab.”
You flushed instantly, face burning as your mouth opened and closed like a fish. “I didn’t… I mean–”
Toji smirked like he’d won something. “You ain't fat. But you keep sayin’ dumb shit like that and I’ll make sure you can’t walk for a week.”
“Toji,” Geto sighed, but you were already a flustered mess.
“Can I… join the gym you train at?”
Toji raised a brow, towel slung over his neck. “If you’re sayin’ that ‘cause you think you’re fat, ain’t takin’ you.”
You shifted on your feet, chewing your lip. “But if I just… wanna get stronger? Maybe more stamina?”
He tilted his head like he was sizing you up, then grinned. “Hmm that's nice... If you’ve got more strength, I don’t gotta hold back, y’know.”
"Tojiii... youuu!!!"
“Good girl,” he muttered, giving your ass a smack making you squeak and red as Geto chuckled.
You hugged Toji quickly, mumbling a thank you before scampering off to your room. where, unsurprisingly, Gojo had already invaded your bed. He was curled up hugging your plushie like it was a lifeline, nose buried into it.
“Satoru…?”
“Mhmm?” he cracked open one icy blue eye and grinned. “You smell like heaven. Don’t leave me ever.”
“I won't,” you laughed, sitting beside him. “Will you come help me shop for gym clothes?”
That, apparently, was the magic phrase.
“YOU’RE GOING TO THE GYM?!” he practically flew out of your bed. “I need to supervise. I’m coming.”
You shouldn’t have asked. At the store, it was a disaster. Gojo was yanking crop tops off hangers, tossing booty shorts into your arms, dramatically flinging sparkly sports bras over your head.
“Satoru!!” you hissed, holding a pair of tiny shorts like they were radioactive. “I can’t wear this to the gym!”
“Why not?” he pouted. “It’ll keep the boys away ‘cause they’ll know you’re already taken.”
“Th...that doesn't even make any sense. They’ll stare.”
“Let them!” he said proudly. “Let them die from jealousy!”
Thankfully, Geto came to the rescue, offering you a few sleek, modest and comfortable sets in earthy tones. “These look good. functional too.”
You smiled sweetly, relieved. “Thank you, suguru.”
Gojo looked betrayed. “Okay, what is this? Everyone ignoring me. I bring spice to your life and all I get is disrespect.”
Back home, Gojo plopped onto the bed while you laid out your new clothes on them. “I’m gonna miss you when you're gone,” he said, pressing his face into your thigh.
“I’ll only be gone for a few hours,” you giggled, stroking his hair.
“Exactly. Too long.”
***
The next morning, you stepped out in your brand new gym clothes, shorts hugging your hips, a tight sports bra, and a loose T-shirt thrown on top. you felt a little silly, but excited.
Geto handed you a gym bag with a smile. “Water bottle. Banana. Trail mix. Text me if you need anything.”
“Thank you…” you hugged him, touched by the thoughtfulness.
Nanami appeared, kissed your cheek gently. “Call me if anything’s off. Anything.”
Toji, who had just walked out from the kitchen munching on something, scoffed. “She’s with me, jackass.”
“That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” Nanami deadpanned, adjusting his tie.
“Yeah, yeah.” Toji stuffed the last of the bread into his mouth. “Let’s go, doll.”
He took a helmet for you and slung an arm over your shoulders, steering you out the door. You couldn't even wave goodbye before he led you to his black bike. He handed you the helmet and straddled the seat.
“Get on,” he said. “Gotta hold tight though. Might go fast.”
You obeyed without a second thought, sliding on behind him and wrapping your arms around his torso.
“Like a fuckin’ koala,” he muttered, shaking his head fondly. “If I feel your tits pressin’ into me one more time I can't promise if I'm gonna crash us into a wall.”
“Shut up toji!!” you squeaked, as he laughed loud and revived the engine.
“Hold on, princess. Let’s go build that stamina of yours.”
***
Gym smelled like sweat and steel, music pumping through the speakers as you stepped inside with Toji beside you. Instantly, heads turned.
“Yo, toji !”
“Morning, fushiguro!”
“Spot me first, yeah?!”
He grunted a few responses, barely sparing them a glance, his hand sliding down to your lower back possessively. Everyone knew him. He was the best trainer in the gym. Big, broad and confident, the type of man people admired and secretly drooled over.
“All right, baby,” he said, tossing a towel over his shoulder. “Let’s see what that soft little body can handle.”
You swallowed hard as he started guiding you through the beginner routines. But the man couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Every “correction” involved groping, his calloused fingers brushing your inner thighs, his palm flat on your lower belly, adjusting your hips with a grip that lingered.
“Stretch, bend… yeah, like that,” he murmured behind you. You bent forward and thump.
You gasped, feeling the unmistakable pressure of his bulge nudging against your core. “Toji…” you whined, cheeks burning.
“What?” he feigned innocence, rocking his hips just slightly. “Form’s gotta be perfect, baby.”
Your knees trembled. He let out a chuckle and finally pulled back. After teasing you within an inch of sanity, he finally let you catch your breath, handing you a water bottle. “Walk on the treadmill for a while, yeah? gotta see a couple of clients.”
You nodded, slightly dazed, and he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your neck followed by a sharp bite.
“Don’t miss me too much,” he smirked, walking off.
You walked slowly, sweat sliding down your back as you tried to focus on the rhythm of your steps. You took a sip of water, cheeks warm. That’s when you heard someone giggling. You turned slightly and there she was.
Toned thighs, tight gym shorts, sports bra hugging a perfect figure. Her ponytail bounced as she smiled up Toji. He stood beside her, adjusting her posture, saying something too low for you to hear. She laughed again, arm brushing against his. His hands were on her hips, not in a dirty way but just there, showing her how to move, how to hold the stretch. Still, she leaned in too much. Her fingers brushed his bicep under the pretense of balance. Her eyes didn’t leave his mouth when he spoke.
You knew it was part of his job but it stung. Hard. You looked away. Swallowed and then looked again. And that was it.
“Tojiii,” you called, loud enough to carry. His head snapped to you instantly.
“Yeah, doll?” he jogged over, concern furrowing his brows. “You okay? Tired?”
You shook your head quickly. “I wanna go home.”
He blinked, then rubbed the back of his neck. “Doll, … I work here, yeah? Got that girl to train—she’s one of my regular clients. And those two too—” he nodded toward a couple of girls lifting weights across the floor. You nodded slowly, eyes flicking back to the girl who was still watching him.
“I’ll book ya a cab, hmm?” he said gently, pulling his phone out. “Call me when you get back.”
You stepped back and reached for your towel from his hands. “I don’t need a cab. I’ll call suguru.”
His brows drew together slightly. “Huh? wait—”
But you’d already turned, walking toward your bag without looking back. Outside, the cool air stung your skin. You dialed Geto with shaky fingers.
“Honey?” he answered on the first ring. “Done already?”
“Suguu… can you pick me up?”
He was there in ten minutes. You didn’t say a word, just climbed into the passenger seat and pulled your knees up to your chest. He didn’t press. But when he glanced over at the red in your eyes, his jaw tightened. He drove you home in silence, hand resting protectively on your knee. He dropped you home, a kiss to your cheeks then drove off to work.
***
You didn’t have class today. And yet the whole day felt heavier than usual. You tried to read, tried to write, maybe even clean your room but your thoughts kept spiraling back to the image of that girl at the gym. He let her touch him. Let her press up close, even if it was all part of the damn job. You hated that it mattered so much. Hated that he was still at the gym right now. Still surrounded by girls like that.
Eventually, the weight of it made you curl into bed and sleep the day away, your chest tight and mind restless. Evening came. The apartment door clicked open. You stirred only when you heard the shower running. You moved to the couch with the plushie Gojo bought you once. A few minutes later, warm arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you gently from the couch into a lap that was all peace and safety.
Nanami smelled like cedarwood and clean skin. His damp hair brushed your cheek as he kissed your temple. "How was your day, sweetheart?" he asked, voice low and smooth.
“I… just slept,” you mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, voice barely audible.
He tilted your chin with two fingers. “All day?”
You nodded up at him. "Yeah..."
He hummed. “And how was the gym?”
Your face faltered before you could stop it. Your eyes dropped. You hated that he noticed it instantly.
"What's wrong, love?"
"Nothing," you whispered too fast, trying to turn away.
His voice turned firm. “What happened?”
“I-it's nothing serious—really.”
“Did Toji do something to you?”
Your head snapped up, panic flashing. “No! no, nothing like that—he didn’t—he didn’t do anything.”
Nanami narrowed his eyes slightly. “Then talk to me. What is it?”
You exhaled shakily and looked down again. And then, in a quiet, hesitant voice, you finally let it spill.
“It’s just… at the gym… when toji left me to go train someone else, there was this girl, she was really pretty and she kept touching him and smiling at him and… I know it’s his job but… I felt… so stupid.”
Your voice broke a little as you reached the end, cheeks flushed with shame. Nanami didn’t speak for a second. he just tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and kissed your temple again.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured. “He’s a trainer. That’s what he does. It's nothing to worry about.” he smiled.
You nodded reluctantly. “But she was touching him. On the arms. And her laugh was like… flirty. She likes toji. I know it.”
He raised a brow. "Oh? she likes him?"
You nodded, like complaining.
“And who does toji love?”
Your lips parted. "Wh-what?"
"I asked who does toji and all of us love, hmm?"
You blinked, dumbfounded. “…Me?”
“Exactly.”
He kissed your cheek, your jaw, then lower, down your neck. “You're our girl, yeah?” he whispered, breath warm.
You giggled softly, heat rushing to your chest. His hands moved up under your shirt. “That’s more like it,” he murmured, thumbing your nipple. “My pretty girl getting all upset over this… adorable.”
Before you could respond, the front door opened.
"I'm home," came Geto's familiar voice from the hallway.
You froze in Nanami’s lap as Geto stepped into the living room, a little strand of his hair damp from sweat. His eyes landed on you, then narrowed slightly when he saw where you were.
“Well, well,” he drawled, walking over and crouching beside the couch. “I don’t get this greeting?” he leaned in and kissed your lips gently, fingers brushing your knee. “How was the gym, baby?”
You flinched slightly, eyes darting to Nanami. He chuckled when you gave him a pleading look—please don’t tell him. Nanami raised his brow. “Should I not say?”
You shook your head so fast it was almost embarrassing. “Nooo...!”
Geto's brows pulled together as he looked between you and Nanami. “Okay, what'd I miss?”
A quiet laugh escaped Nanami as he shook his head. “She's been sulking all day,” he said, “ranting to me about this girl at the gym who was looking at toji.”
“Nanamin!”
The realization dawned on Geto almost immediately, the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “Ohh,” he hummed. “You were jealous, baby?” he teased, tilting his head. “Over toji?”
“I-I wasn’t! I mean—no!”
Nanami leaned in, his palm resting on your thigh again. “Oh, you should’ve seen her. Face all scrunched up the whole time.”
Geto’s hands joined his, trailing up your other leg. “You poor baby,” he murmured. “Did he stretch her out too? like he do to you before he fucks you dumb?”
Your mouth fell open, mortified. “S-stop! You two are being mean…”
They both leaned in, trapping you in the heat of their bodies. “You like when we’re mean,” Geto said softly, licking your pulse point.
“I’m not jealous,” you stammered, pushing at their chests feebly.
“Oh?” Nanami smirked. “Then why are you shaking like that, hmm?”
“I-I’m not!”
“I think you are,” Geto grinned at you. “Should we call toji, tell him how you’re acting like a brat over him?”
“Noooo! you can't...” you squeaked, face burning. You shoved them both lightly and scrambled off Nanami’s lap, your heart thumping. “I’m not jealous!” you insisted, running toward your room and slamming the door shut behind you. You could hear their soft laughs echo behind the door.
“She’s definitely jealous,” Nanami said.
“Agree, agree.” Geto replied.
And you were behind the door, cheeks on fire and your heart thumping like crazy.
***
Toji came home a little later than usual, sweat clinging to his skin, hair a little damp, gym bag slung over his shoulder. You didn’t greet him like you normally did. Didn’t even look up from the couch when he walked past. Not a smile, not a “welcome home.” Just silence.
He noticed. Ohh, he definitely noticed.
The first time he passed you, he let it slide. Maybe you were tired. Maybe you didn’t hear him. The second time, when he tossed his bag on the chair and asked, “You eat anything yet?”, and you just mumbled a “yeah” without even turning your head, his jaw ticked. When you pulled away from his touch later saying you were “not in the mood” he snapped.
And the next thing you knew, Toji’s hand was gripping your wrist as he dragged you inside your room, slamming it shut behind him.
“The fuck is wrong with you today?” he barked, pushing you gently but firmly toward the bed. “Been giving me this cold-ass shoulder since morning.”
You swallowed hard, eyes wide.
“Didn’t call when you got home,” he said, voice rising. “Didn’t reply to a single fuckin’ text. Didn’t pick up any of my calls. You just walked out the gym and vanished. And now you’re actin’ like I did something?”
“Toji, I—”
“No, you don’t get to shut me out like this without telling me what the fuck is wrong.” He stepped closer, hands on either side of your waist, pinning you in place. His eyes scanned your face, furious but confused, jaw clenched, chest rising and falling too fast.
Your lower lip trembled, eyes getting wet. “You’re scaring me…”
Toji froze when he saw your face changes. “Shit. No, No—fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair, stepping back. “Don’t—don’t cry. Fuck, don’t do that. Didn’t mean to yell. Shit. I didn’t even do anything, why are you crying like that?”
“You’re.... so mean,” you whispered, voice cracking. “I hate you.”
You pushed at his chest with both hands, stumbling out of his grip, hot tears streaking down your cheeks. Before he could react, you ran straight to the living room, where Nanami was reading on the couch. You threw yourself into his arms, sobbing into his chest. He held you without question, his arms secure around your waist, hand soothing your back.
Toji came after you, of course. Stopping at the hallway, panting, looking genuinely wrecked.
“The fuck happened to her?” he demanded, eyes narrowing at Nanami. “She said I’m mean. What did I even do? She’s never called me that, not even when I was bullying her cunt like—”
“Toji.” Nanami cut him off, calm but sharp. “For the love of God, don’t finish that sentence.”
Toji blinked, then rubbed his temples. “I didn’t even fuckin’ do anything…”
Geto strolled in just in time to hear the tail end of it, sipping on something cold. He glanced between the three of you and smirked.
“Toji,” he said with a chuckle, “You might wanna consider a career change if this is how it’s going.”
“What?” Toji blinked again, clearly not following. Then it clicked. “Oh.” his voice dropped into a knowing growl. “Ohhhh.....”
He started laughing, low and sharp. Cruel in how accurate it was. “That’s what this was about?” he pointed toward you. “That girl today?”
You didn’t answer, face buried in Nanami’s chest, fists clenched in his shirt.
Toji walked over with purpose. “You really got all bratty over that stuck-up cardio chick? Baby, that’s work. That ain’t fun.” He grabbed you by the waist, prying you from Nanami’s lap like you weighed nothing.
“Toji—let go!” you squealed, trying to fight him off.
“You wanna cry? fine. You can cry on my cock,” he snarled.
He carried you toward your room, ignoring your squirming, ignoring the way Geto was cackling behind him, ignoring Nanami’s slow exhale and murmured, “Toji. Don't be so hard on her.”
He dropped you on the bed, crawling over you, his big frame caging you in. You thought he was gonna fuck you mean out of anger. Instead, he pulled your shorts down and nudged your legs apart, slowly running the thick length of his cock up and down your folds not pushing in.
Your eyes widened. “Toji—”
“Shh,” he cut in, voice smooth and dark. “Let me ask you something, baby.”
His cock slid through your slick folds again, dragging right over your clit. You gasped, trying to close your thighs but his hand pushed them back open. “Want me to put it in?”
You swallowed thickly, face burning, unable to speak. He chuckled, slow and mean. “Just the tip, yeah? That’ll shut your jealous little head up?” he lined himself up and rubbed the tip right against your entrance without pushing in. “That enough to make you forget about her?”
You whimpered, hips twitching.
“No?” he murmured, kissing your throat, teasing the head of his cock at your tight entrance again, not entering. “Want me to really fuck it in? want it deep, or you just want the tip like a good little slut?”
You squirmed, unable to form any words, shaking your head.
“Don’t want the tip?” he smirked, hand sliding under your shirt, palming your tits. “Then what do you want, baby? want me to fuck it in deep and ruin that jealous little cunt so you remember who you belong to?”
“I—I’m sorry—”
“Sorry?” he cooed mockingly. “Sorry for what, sweetheart?" he slides his cock up your folds teasing.
"Sorry for saying you hate me?" another grind.
"Or sorry for not calling?" he rolls his hips again.
"Or sorry for being a pouty, bratty, little thing?”
“…All of it…” you whispered, breath hitching.
Toji’s eyes softened just for a second. Then he shoved the tip in. Just barely. Enough to make you jolt and moan. He groaned. “Tight little hole. Fuck, missed this cock, huh?”
You nodded desperately. “Please—Toji…”
He smirked, sliding in just another inch. “Gonna take it back now? that thing you said earlier?”
Your heart stuttered. “I—I didn’t mean it—” another push. “I don’t hate you—!”
“Then what do you feel, huh?”
“I—” you choked out, tears spilling again, “I love you—I love you, Toji, please—!”
He chuckled, finally burying himself all the way in one slow, punishing thrust. “Yeah. that’s my girl,” he whispered. “Now tell me… who’s my good baby?”
“Ahhh.... me,” you gasped.
He pulled out slowly and slammed back in. “Say it again.”
“Me—!”
“Who’s the one who gets all my love and kisses?”
“Me—!”
“Who’s the little thing bouncing on my cock every night?”
You sobbed, head spinning. “That's—!”
He smirked, licking a stripe up your cheek like a reward. “That’s what I thought.”
And just like that, he grabbed your hips and started fucking you for real. Deep, slow thrusts, each one sealing every filthy word inside you. Toji grinned down at you, his cock still twitching inside, his body hot and heavy as he leaned in, voice smug and low against your cheek.
“Jealous little bunny, huh?” he murmured, dragging his thumb along your bottom lip. “Gets all possessive for me? Hmm? Love me that much?”
You nodded furiously, lips parted, breath shaky.
“Oh? Thought you hated me?” he teased, voice dipping as he nipped at your throat. “Didn’t you say that, huh?”
“S-so… sorry,” you whimpered, clutching at his shoulders. “Won’t say it again… I– I love you…”
He hummed, pleased, his cock grinding just a little deeper. “Is that so?”
“Y-yeah…”
“Then… wanna mark me up?” he smirked.
“What?”
“To show that gym chick not to fuck with me, yeah?” he murmured, dragging your hand over his bare chest. “Come on, mark me up like a good little bunny. Start with my neck.”
Your eyes widened, but he tilted his head, baring his thick throat. “Come on,” he growled softly. “Bite me.”
You leaned in, sinking your teeth gently into his skin. He chuckled low. “Oh? you can do better than that. Bite harder, baby—gotta show her, hmm?”
You obeyed, a little harder this time.
“Good girl,” he groaned, voice roughening. “Now my arms. Come on, leave marks everywhere they can see. You want them to see, don’t you?”
Your lips trembled as you nodded and leaned in again. Toji just grinned, letting you claim him. He slowed his thrusts, just enough for you to breathe barely, his chest heaving, your body trembling under his. One of his big hands gripped your jaw, tilting your teary, fucked-out face up to meet his eyes.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured, voice low and filthy against your lips. “Next time you feel jealous, you tell me, yeah?”
You nodded weakly, barely able to keep your eyes open. he smirked, cock still buried deep inside you.
“I’ll make sure to fuck the jealousy right outta you. Every single time.”
warnings: age gap, reader is mid 20s, female reader, allusion to reader sending nudes
a/n: guys this is lowkey a mess 💔 sorry for taking FOREVER. keep the reqs coming + i love u all!
let me know if u want to be added to taglist for all jack text fics! if u asked to be on the taglist and don’t see ur name, it either won’t let me tag u or u updated ur username. pls be patient w/ me 💌
CONTENT: SMUT, stripper!reader x jack abbot, age gap (20s vs 50s), trinity's nosy!, will they wont they, embarrassment, slow burn, sexual tension, mutual crush, pole dancing, mentions of sex work, jack is down horrendously bad, reader is a shy baddie, reader has hair (length not specified), ignore the logistics of day shift vs. night shift pls, pov switch, santos' pov for the first 1k words (trust the process!!), awkward!santos, completely unrealistic strip club, smut, unprotected sex (forgot to write in a condom so), fingering, dry humping, semi-public p in v sex, etc.
SUMMARY: after a regular tuesday at your second job turns into the latest topic of conversation at the pitt, you find yourself dancing to an audience full of your peers, your controversially older boss included.
WORDCOUNT: 13.5k
NOTE: yeah im incredibly original
-
Trinity liked to think herself the least nosy one out of all the gossip vultures to be found at the Pitt.
Sure, sometimes she'd follow along with Princess and Perlah, switching over to Tagalog to ensure no one could understand the newest goss they'd overheard while walking the halls. But was trinity actively seeking out this gossip? of course not.
It was just unfortunate that gossip seemed to always find its way to her.
It started on her very first day at the Pitt, a day in which she'd uncovered two pivotal pieces of information that no one had been made privy to up until that point.
Dennis Whitaker was living in the hospital.
Frank Langdon had a substance abuse issue.
Both these pieces of information could've served as gossip, but trinity had always considered herself a trooper, and so she kept her mouth shut about both of them.
Throughout her time at the Pitt, more and more news revealed themselves to her. And every single time, Trinity kept them all to herself.
Whether it was something as small as Ogilvie eating the sandwich Samira had been saving in the fridge, or as big as Dana asking McKay for another secret script of sedative to carry around in case of an emergency, Trinity always turned a blind eye and acted surprised whenever someone else happened to stumble upon the same piece of gossip and spilled the beans to everyone else at the Pitt.
But even with her angelic ability to keep her mouth shut, Trinity was, after all, just a person. And sooner or later, something would eventually be too juicy for it to not slip past her lips when probed just at the right moment.
It was only too bad that you happened to be on the receiving end of it.
-
Trinity liked you.
You were a useful addition to the many doubles she had a tendency to pull, always a good partner to have in the long hours under the bleed of the fluorescent white lights of the ED.
She liked to think (and was pretty sure) that the feeling was mutual.
The two of you shared a similar humor, usually placing either Whitaker or Langdon at the butt of every joke, bugging at Robby for more complicated procedures or gaslighting Shen into sharing his Dunkin's coupons with you.
You'd been aware of her thing with Yoyo back when it was no more than a situationship kept on the down low. Just like she was well aware of your moon-eyed crush on the greying night shift attending — information that she always kept to herself despite how obvious she thought you were.
And so she felt pretty confident in saying that she knew you pretty well.
But was she colored impressed when she came to find out that that was not true at all.
Because standing across from her, she found a scantily-clad you, body packed with glitter and hair with the most volume she'd ever seen, dancing to your heart's content up on the stage of the strip club Yoyo had insisted they check out for their weekly date night.
Yoyo had already been here multiple times, or so she had told Trinity right before parking up front about twenty minutes prior to that moment. Yet her eyes widened just as big as soon as she spotted you, fellow resident of Trinity's, practically naked on stage.
As her eyes widened, they turned to Santos', finding them just as wide and peeked at a tiny amused smile forming. Within moments they were both giggling to themselves, betting on a margarita as to how long it'd take you to turn your head slightly north in order to find two of your coworkers in the audience.
All in all, Santos had to admit that, damn, you knew what you were doing.
This was no side hustle or hobby. This was clearly something you'd studied the art of to a T.
But your performance only got better the moment you actually spotted Trinity and Yoyo, eyes wide and a stutter in your step as you walked your way to the pole found at the closest end of the stage.
Your coworkers made a show of cheering for you, wooing at you, throwing bills in your direction, sending one or two pointed whistles your way. Within moments your shock turned into annoyance, and the rest was pretty much history.
Weeks passed until this Trinity brought up the events of that night again.
(Other than the immediate aftermath in which Trinity chastised you for not sharing such an interesting bit of your life with your work bestie and you pleading that she keep her mouth shut about it at work).
And when it was finally brought up again, it was all accidental. Trinity swore by that! She was not the type to blabber about things that didn't concern her.
But it had been a very long shift, and drinks were being passed around at the park, and you had a little bit of leftover glitter on your cheekbone she somehow hadn't noticed in the past 18 hours and she couldn't help but to-
"Hah, what's with the glitter? This isn't your night job."
She'd said it with what sounded like a malicious snicker and happened to word it in a way that made you sound like a lady of the night, but, truly, she had not meant it that way! Had not even realized what she'd said until she realized all voices had quietened down and that the only sound to be heard was the odd cricket hiding around the bushes of the park.
You froze, eyes wide like bambi and a lips slightly agape in pure shock. All color seemed to drain from your face immediately as a strange sense of shame took over your features.
Rather than to immediately look to santos in shock, your eyes looked to the bench across from you where your two attendings sat, mortified at the sudden reveal and at the way in which all conversation seemed to half at Santos' words.
Across from where you stood were Abbot and Robby, pausing their side conversation to look over in your direction, with the former in slight shock and the latter with some amusement at Santos' sudden reveal.
Realization that she'd fucked up and embarrassed you in front of your crush made Santos feel even worse at her sudden blunder. She was hitting herself internally at every extended second of awkward silence.
In the pseudo socratic circle you'd always form when sharing a beer after a long shift at the park, multiple of your other coworkers also reacted to Santos' comment, including Whitaker choking on his beer and Javadi gasping out loud.
Langdon had been a little more reserved, simply lifting his brows in curiosity and Samira furrowing hers in confusion.
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, your eyes swam over all the people around you, mortified, before landing back on Santos next to you. Your embarrassment morphed into irritation, now scowling at the girl before grunting out a response.
"Santos—! God damnit, I- I have to go."
And with that, you walked away despite all the eyes on you, ignoring santos as she spluttered a weak apology in your direction, hand landing on her forehead as she regretted the words that had left her lips.
"Night job?"
"Shut it, Huckleberry, that is not what i meant-"
"Oh my god, is she, like, a sex worker?"
Javadi's choice of language was respectful, but did not aid in santos' case after her fuck-up.
"No! What i meant was-"
"Dude, so not cool exposing her private shit like that."
This time it was Langdon, shaking his head as he aimed, threw, and landed his crumpled beer can into the trashcan to his left.
A few more chastising comments were given by a few other coworkers, leaving Santos no option but to, once again, blurt out something she truly did not mean to say.
"She's not a sex worker, okay? She's a stripper! Now shut up!"
Silence again.
Trinity winced as she took in the repetition of surprised reactions. She just couldn't stop fucking it up even further.
And in that awkward silence, she somehow managed to miss the outlier sitting on the bench across of her displaying all five stages of grief on his face as he took in the new information just given to him.
Abbot sat there, dumbly doing nothing as you walked away in mortification, as Santos continued to unintentionally embarrass you upon your exit, as everyone reacted to the newest and juiciest piece of gossip to hit the Pitt.
He couldn't help himself in the state of shock he'd arrived to. Couldn't even think about moving, much less listening to Mohan scold Santos and Santos promise she'd apologize as soon as she saw you and as she pleaded that no one ever bring up her fuck up ever again.
All he could do was think back to that tiny bit of glitter he'd also happened to spot the moment you'd clocked in and to all the other times in which he'd seen leftover glitter on your lid, on your cheek. He couldn't help but think of all the mumbled excuses you'd give as to why you couldn't join the night shift full time.
Everything suddenly came to light in a whole different way than he'd imagined, and the thought of you like that? Well, it sure had some sort of effect on him.
Unknowingly, Santos had not only ruined your life, but had also completely destroyed jack.
-
"Okay, so don't be mad."
"I already told you I'm not mad at you, Trinity," you sighed as you slipped off your stethoscope, facing your locker while gathering your things.
A few days had passed since the incident.
Santos had turned up at your apartment about half an hour later, groaning to herself as she told you about the aftermath of your sudden exit and very apologetic about it all.
After bribing you with access to her Doordash account for a month and offering to cover for you whenever your second job got in the way, no questions asked, you came around to letting it be water under the bridge.
You'd been lucky that the only people present to hear about your secret had been people you considered somewhat close.
Except that the thought of Jack Abbot, of all people, hearing of such a scandalous secret kind of made you want to die.
It wasn't that you were embarrassed, per se, but who'd want the sexy older guy they can't even maintain eye contact with finding out that you strip every other night? Sooner or later he'd do the math and realize that that was why you'd been rejecting his offers to be under his tutelage (and thus spending more time with him) during the night shift for twelve hours a night — because your side hustle got in the way.
You didn't want him to be... disappointed, for him to see you differently, to view you as cheap or as if you were selling your body. He respected you, and his respect was something you'd never want to lose.
Blatant judgment wasn't something you'd ever expect from Abbot, but the possibility existed within your irrational thoughts any time your brain decided to put those two parts of your life together. Even if your current relationship wasn't anything past mentor and mentee, you would be fine with it staying like that if it meant Abbot at least looked to you with a smidge of fondness in his eyes.
But Abbot hadn't said anything since Trinity blabbed.
There had been no sort of reaction from him, or anyone really.
Upon your return to the Pitt the following day, tail between your legs, no one had made any snarky quip or even looked at you weird after you'd been exposed and had dramatically run away. There were no further comments made other than Santos consistently apologizing over and over again in hushed tones throughout your shared shift.
And so you forgave Santos.
You were friends, and you weren't particularly embarrassed about moonlighting as a stripper for extra cash. It was just not something you openly discussed with your coworkers. You felt that reasoning was valid enough to keep it a secret.
Santos continued, "Well, maybe not now, but tell me that again in two minutes..."
At that, you closed your locker door, trying your hardest not to slam it. Perhaps you'd been a bit jumpy after all. Your guard was always high when it came to this subject.
"What did you do this time?"
Santos grimaced, groaning dramatically to herself and squeezing her eyes shut for a moment before seemingly ripping the band-aid off.
She sighed, cursing under her breath and attempted it again.
"A bunch of people got together ... and decided they're going to go to your club to watch you perform this weekend."
Your heart dropped at the word 'club' and stopped altogether at the word 'perform'. You were pretty sure you were about to enter cardiac arrest in that very moment.
Every second of your life flashed before your eyes.
"Oh, my god, santos-"
"I swear I didn't tell anyone about where you work!" she started, a little frantic, "I guess Yoyo told someone upstairs about a cool new club we went to, and then that person told someone else, and then it reached Parker and Shen, — who did the math — and then princess suggested some of the girls go watch you, and then Whitaker decided to join in cause he's sorta one of the girls, and it turned into Langdon joining and I think maybe Robby for some reason? anyway, I think-"
"Oh, my god."
"It's not that bad—!"
You huffed in despair, hands coming up to your face and mutely screaming into them for a few moments. You needed to get it out of your system, and seemingly Santos understood that sentiment as she stood taking in your misery.
"You've completely ruined my life," you said blankly, emotionless.
Dramatic, but it felt that drastic at that moment.
"Well, uh- you should be glad! You know, that, uh, at least Abbot isn't going!"
The mention of his name only made things worse for you.
"Oh, god."
Santos was well aware of your crush on the older man, though she usually used it to tease you. It was bad enough that he was one of the few who had heard the news firsthand, but to even think of him seeing you on the job?
Fuck.
"Do you think he'll... go?"
Santos shook her head a little too quickly, clearly eager to atone and reassure you, not at all actually sure.
"He's an old man! And he works the night shift! You dance nights, right?" you nodded and she continued, "See? He'd have to take the night off, and when was the last time he ever did that? Nothing to worry about."
Her logic was somewhat sound, but her tone of voice assured you that it was mostly just wishful thinking.
And even if abbot skipped this particular outing, knowing that Robby or Princess would probably give him (and the rest of the staff) the 411 of your night job made your skin itch with anxiety.
"From one to ten, how bad would it be if i quit both jobs before then?"
Santos shook her head, lips pursed.
"You can barely afford your apartment on two salaries and tips, you'll be homeless within a week."
"Fuck."
-
After that, you occasionally heard a comment or two about the big night.
You weren't quite sure how or why this had become a thing, much less how it wasn't firing off alarms with HR that not only was one of their doctors openly a stripper — was there some sort of rule for that? — but also that a good dozen of her coworkers were joining in on some scheme to torment her for said stripping.
Okay, maybe 'torment' was a little much.
Mel and Whitaker seemed genuinely interested in watching you out of sheer curiosity. Langdon appeared a little awkward about it, but didn't want to be left out. Javadi was perhaps a little judgmental about it (and would probably vlog it for TikTok), but both her and Samira showed some amused interest at that side of your life.
Robby got a little red in the face when the subject was brought up by Princess in your presence, but he also hadn't shown any judgment.
Plus, you always knew that it was only sooner or later that some patron at the strip club would recognize you or that someone at the hospital would end up on a night out at the club.
You were mostly just glad that Abbot had made no comment thus far, nor had he even been around any time the subject was brought up.
Still, you were a little anxious as Friday night turned up and you bid your goodbyes to Trin and Mel as you headed to the club in order to get undressed and ready to perform.
The girls at the club were pretty much clueless that you'd be bringing in a flock of doctors into the audience that night. It was better that way. Better to keep both jobs as separate as possible (even if they were beginning to seep into one another).
With a few breathing exercises, you did your thing, with a pretty pink set of lingerie, some pumps a bit too high, and a dyson to aid in fixing up something that would allow for some extra volume in your hair.
You couldn't forget the body glitter either, obviously.
Looking in the swanky mirror backstage, you took in your appearance, already an expert in the art of making yourself up for your audience.
Santos sent you a quick text, letting you know everyone was here and that there was no sighting of Abbot, which at least worked in docking down your heart rate a few bpm from its accelerated speed.
The music was already booming outside, and from backstage you could get a sense of the fluorescent lights flashing across the main room.
With one final deep breath, you made your way to the entrance to the stage, a little self conscious at your coworkers seeing you like this, but ultimately sort of glad that the secret was out of the bag and that it was just your friends out there — some lighthearted teasing and a few exaggerated cheers wouldn't kill you, would they?
-
Jack's week had been an absolute rollercoaster.
While externally everything might've remained mostly stagnant in Jack's life, — a difficult statement to make for someone who works night shift in emergency medicine — it was mostly his internal turmoil that had been keeping his mind occupied as of late.
Nothing had happened due to his own doing. But, hell, he could hardly blame anyone else.
But in his messed up mind, he still sorta did.
And that blame fell strictly on second-year resident, Trinity Santos.
(Though Jack was very well aware that this was all his fault. All the fault of the horribly inappropriate way in which he'd been looking to another second-year resident under his care).
Luckily for jack, he had a handle on it — like he did on most things. With a few distractions, he could stop his mind from wandering after your hands graced his mid procedure. He could simply pretend that the sudden accelerated speed of his heart was due to his new anxiety meds, not because the pretty, young, resident he had his eye on was looking up at him with doe eyes, asking if she was doing good.
In jack's mind, there was absolutely no way in which his infatuation with you could possibly worsen.
And this had been the truth for the two years in which you'd been at the Pitt.
It all ended on that fateful night.
After 16 hours of continuous work, Jack found himself sharing some beers with the usual crew of the Pitt. it was always a similar bunch, usually gathering after the specifically strenuous shifts that forced them to remain a few hours past the clock.
In this past year or so, you'd become part of that small crew.
Usually, you'd stand by doctor king or doctor santos, flocking towards people your age (which he noted with a pained heart), rarely ever sharing the usual bench with him or even interacting with him past a polite nod of acknowledgement or a 'goodnight' directed at the group in general.
You appeared to be too exhausted after extended shifts, with your body clearly not having grown accustomed to the sudden overtime shifts at the Pitt just yet. you'd slump over on Santos' shoulder, or occasionally stand with an armed linked with Mohan to shift some of your weight onto her.
It was rare for you to speak up or highlight your presence in these occasions. By all intent and purposes, Jack was certain saw you as a shy, reserved type of girl. Sure, you had your moments of vivacity in between procedures, but you were always avoiding his stare, usually docking your face down whenever you were one-on-one with anyone of authority.
So the words that left Santos that particular night had completely blown the breath out of his lungs.
He had spotted that leftover glitter on your cheekbone — how could he not, when his eyes wandered to you during any miniscule lull in his day? Sometimes there were some speckles on your lid, other times hidden on your top lip, but he could have never conjured that this could be the reason as to why it was there.
"Hah, what's with the glitter? This isn't your night job."
Immediately, Jack's ears perked up.
Even in his older age, his mind went straight to the gutter.
With that teasing tone of voice, there was only one thing Santos could have possibly meant by your night job.
Then he looked to you, finding your bambi eyes expanded larger than he'd ever seen them, mortification filling your features as you panicked and blurted out a half-hearted curse to your friend and all but ran off.
Some comments floated around after that, but Jack blocked them out, only really looking after you as you walked away. He pursed his lips in genuine pity, wishing he could run after you — not that you'd want him to, anyway. His leg was settled comfortably on the bench, and putting it on to chivalrously chase after you would've only made things worse for you.
Then Santos spoke again.
"She's not a sex worker, okay? She's a stripper! Now shut up!"
Jack felt like he'd been shot — a comparison he could easily make, since, clearly, he'd actually been shot at before.
His heart rate went off the charts. His knuckles went white as he gripped his beer can, denting it a little in the process. His jaw tensed and teeth clenched. He wasn't sure if any of this was out of empathetic mortification for you, or if it was due to the images of you flashing through his head. You donning a pretty little number, body bathed in glitter as you performed on stage for all the pathetic idiots fishing for just one bit of attention from you.
(It was the latter).
After that, jack was unsure of what to do.
It was silently (or at least, mostly silently) agreed after that that no one was to give you any shit for the news Santos had not-so-graciously delivered about your personal life.
But, of course, as it always is with a gossipy department, a few whispers of when should we make a trip down there? Or small quips of curiosity in regards of your skill level were shared here and there. Jack didn't participate in them, but he was still privy to them all.
Jack avoided your eyes for a few days afterwards, but never once took part in making you feel any sort of way in regards to what had happened — even though his stupid brain kept conjuring the most inappropriate scenes of you every time you so much as crossed his mind.
So, even in spite of how self composed he'd been, he was a little shocked at himself when he found himself mentally adding himself to the list of people getting together to go check out the club you worked at.
(Garcia had gotten the idea in his head, with her nosy and expansive commentary mid surgery about your first sighting at the club. She went on and on about how you danced, what you were wearing, those bambi eyes popping out when you'd spotted Garcia and Santos in the crowd, the way in which you giggled and concealed a shy smile when they insisted on shoving dollar bills in your g string. It was all mindless gossip to her, but an impending heart attack to Jack.)
He hadn't planned it, not really. He'd heard Princess and Ellis discussing some group outing while he stopped by the nurses' station to pick up some charts, something about a girl's night to support one of the girls — not his words. He wasn't trying to be nosy, but to escape gossip at the Pitt was an impossible mission.
He didn't arrive with the little group that had formed, not even fully sure as to who'd be coming. All he had heard was your name and the time and place, and suddenly he was rearranging his schedule to make sure that he was off that night.
Sweat formed at the back of his neck as he stood there. The place seemed a little shadier than he expected, but he had no time to worry about your safety, not when he needed to muster the courage to walk in and put an end to his misery.
He was a little late, so surely he would've missed most of your dance. Perhaps he'd unknowingly orchestrated it as so. Maybe his subconscious was trying to retain the last remains of his sanity.
And so he walked in, steps heavy and a with some faux confidence in them.
-
Santos had been right. It hadn't been that bad.
Situated on a small table towards the left corner of the stage, you saw a familiar bunch huddled together, all with some fruity drink in hand.
Perlah and Princess were obvious attendees, though you were shocked to see Mel and Samira among the group. Trinity had come in order to provide emotional support, bringing along Whitaker and your favorite night shift duo — Ellis and John.
That had been it.
There was no Robby or Langdon or Dana.
And no Abbot.
Would it have been stupid to be weirdly disappointed by his absence?
Part of you had kind of hoped he'd be one of the bunch, but it was a conflicting thought you hadn't entertained much thus far. He was often present in group outings, usually brooding in the back with Robby or silently paying for a few rounds for the younger doctors.
You didn't allow yourself to ponder the thought for too long as you finished your set, shaking the thought out of your head as soon as it'd arrived.
How could you ever possibly want him to see you like this? Your brain was already scrambling as you tried to convince yourself he didn't see you differently after finding out. Everything was jumbled in your head, unsure as to whether you wanted your boss to see you half naked or not.
His demeanor had remained the same, but he was a pretty stoic guy a lot of the time. You couldn't tell left from right when it came to him.
But then the fleeting thought rushed back in once more.
Would he like to see you like this? Would he sit back and watch you work the pole, watch you bend and flip and twirl all around it as your bare skin shone with that cheap body glitter that made your thighs sparkle?
Maybe he'd finally see you in the way you saw him. Maybe that primitive part of him would come out and he'd finally look twice when you passed by. He'd picture the tiny pink lace under your scrubs, would avert his eyes when you caught him looking for a little too long.
But that was all a fantasy.
Because even at the perfect chance to show up, the one time in which it wouldn't have been odd or inappropriate for him to show up with the rest of the crew, he wasn't there.
It was stupid to be disappointed. You had tried to keep this from everyone in your personal life. And now, at the sudden chance to have the man you'd been going crazy over for the past year (and then some) show up and see you like this, you were sad? You were crestfallen and pouting and confused?
But you'd come to be somewhat of a professional at this.
So even when you looked down and did not find that familiar face down there, you still danced to your heart's desire, weirdly happy to have the cat out of the bag and to have your work friends show up to hype you up like this. It was dumb and silly, but you had your fun.
A little over an hour later and you were calling it an early night.
You stopped by the table, now with your robe on as your friends began to leave one by one. You shared some drinks, giggling when a tipsy Princess insisted on giving you all her leftover dollar bills that hadn't made it your way when you were performing.
The last man standing had been Trinity, who was no longer an anxious mess at the thought of having fucked up when she'd blurted out your secret. The shared laughs confirmed that it was all water under the bridge.
"See? That wasn't that bad. They liked it! I think Parker and Princess might've liked it a little too much, though."
You chuckled with a shrug, "Yeah. Wasn't as embarrassing as I thought."
"Aaaand Abbot was a no-show! Told you!"
It was unfortunate that Trinity was just as perceptive even when tipsy, because she did not miss that millisecond in which your disappointment showed on your face.
"Oh, my god- You wanted him to show?"
"Stop!" you shushed her, "It's not- it's not that i wanted him to, it's just..." you paused, "is he really just not interested at all?"
It felt pathetic even as you said it, and Trinity let you know as much.
"That is absolutely pathetic, man. Please pick yourself back up," she said, bluntly, sighing when she noticed your crestfallen demeanor, "Buuuut, maybe he just didn't show because he thought it'd be inappropriate? It doesn't mean he doesn't, you know, want you."
"You think so?"
"Yeah! I mean, even if he showed, how old is he? Like 60? His heart probably couldn't take it anyway."
That got a laugh out of you, shoving trinity lightheartedly.
"It's time I turn in," she paused, "But remember - you could jump any person in that audience and they'd thank you. Don't sell yourself short."
With those last words of wisdom, she lifted two fingers to her forehead and signaled a goodbye to you, leaving you to the more menial aspects of your job.
The disappointment wore off a little as you helped the bartenders clean up the littered napkins and tiny umbrellas scattered all across the floor, but it remained in the back of your head.
Maybe next time.
-
Jack felt like a coward as he stood out there for longer than seemed socially acceptable.
People came and went, some slightly under the influence, stumbling out of the building, others a little too happy for whatever went down in there. Jack immaturely hoped for a similar outcome for himself before mentally slapping the idea away.
She's your resident. She's so much younger. You shouldn't even be here, encroaching on her personal life like this.
But, even then, he stayed there. An hour passed, two, and he continued to lean against his car in the parking lot — an improvement to standing right outside the entrance like a creep.
From his spot in the parking lot, he could somewhat hear the muffled music coming from inside up until it halted altogether. His mind conjured up images of you dancing to the music, of fucking Parker and Shen teasing you as they threw dollar bills in your direction.
Surely that was an image he'd never forget.
That is, if he grew the balls to walk in.
"I've never bought into the whole 'wisdom comes with age' thing, but, you know, for someone so old, you have, like, zero wisdom."
That broke him out of his thoughts.
It was that familiar voice that had landed him in this situation in the first place.
The slight eyeroll couldn't be helped, neither could the sigh, which Santos clearly caught as Jack turned in the direction of the voice as he continued to lean against his car. His leg had started to bother him by then.
"What's that mean?" he nodded towards her.
"You're late," she began, confidence always oozing out of her even as she spoke to a superior, "You've been out here this whole time? thing's kinda over."
"Yeah?"
She nodded, taking a step forward, "Buuuut, I'm sure you could still catch her if you hurry," she paused in some hesitation before continuing, "She, uh, might be happy to see you."
That caught him off guard, and unfortunately his usually suave exterior broke for a second as he stuttered in response, "That- that right?"
Santos now had the upper hand, which she seemed happy to realize.
With pursed lips, she shrugged, hands behind her hips, "Nothing wrong with supporting your coworker in her ... personal endeavors."
Jack was practically useless in conversation by that point, and so Trinity bid a casual goodbye and walked away. Jack stood there, dumbfounded, a ringing in its head making its appearance as he thought about every decision that had somehow landed him there.
Before he could overthink it, he pushed himself off the hood of his car and walked towards the entrance.
Nothing wrong with showing support for a coworker.
-
"I guess I'm late, huh?"
The words made you stop in your tracks. Skin rose on the back of your neck. You were entirely sure that that could not be the voice you thought it was.
But then you turned around and found him. With that same intense stare that you felt was almost only reserved for you.
Suddenly you felt very self-conscious of what you were wearing, of the pleasers that made you five inches taller, of the silk robe riding off slightly at your left shoulder and giving him a pristine view of your lace-covered breast.
Within seconds you straightened yourself up, readjusting your robe and kicking off your heels as you fixed your posture like a soldier with their commanding officer. You felt as if you'd been caught making a mistake at work, overly apologetic to Abbot only to find that he wasn't on his way to scold you.
Due to your silence (and likely your incredibly awkward demeanor), Abbot cleared his throat and spoke again.
"Sorry i couldn't make it- or, not sorry? you probably don't want your attending coming around here, huh?"
You were too much of a deer in headlights to catch the self-conscious shift in his tone, eyes roaming all over him in his casual clothes, taking particular notice of his arms as they folded over his chest.
"Not- not at all," you finally spoke, "Just, maybe a little awkward? Or at least that's how it felt with everyone else ... The rest of the guys seemed to enjoy the show, though."
He hummed, "Too bad I missed it."
"Yeah," you nodded.
Another awkward silence.
"You could, uh- you could come next time, if you want to?"
Shut up. Don't continue that thought.
His eyebrows shot up as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
"Oh?"
"Y-yeah," you swallowed, "If you're free, that is-"
"Yeah," he coughed out, "I'm free."
You hadn't even told him what day yet. Your heart sped up.
"Yeah? You free next Friday night?"
He nodded slowly, breathing in deep through his nose.
You were convinced you'd caught his eyes run up and down your body. It'd been too quick and you'd been too nervous to be sure. but you were a good 80% sure it'd happened. It had you shuddering internally, somewhat annoyed that you'd thrown on the robe at all, that he wasn't looking at you in the pretty set you'd picked for that night.
"Everyone else coming too?"
You halted, "Oh, uhm, no, I don't think-"
"Good," he interrupted, not adding anything more.
It made you gulp.
"Y-yeah. I'll see you on Friday, then?"
He nodded, lips pursed.
"No, kid. I'll see you on Friday."
Again, he nodded in confirmation, a small smile overtaking his lips. Within mere seconds he had gotten the upper hand of the conversation, leaving you an awkward mess and with your skin rising up in goosebumps at the mere thought of him seeing you.
Unlike in every other interaction you'd grown used to having within the four walls of the club, you were awkward, fumbly, nervous and with absolutely zero game. Trinity would laugh in your face.
Those sultry eyes you were expected to throw at patrons were replaced by saucers, and your confident body language turned into you embarrassingly wanting to rub your thighs together at the confidence in which Jack Abbot had managed to secure a one-on-one with you in your panties.
You said goodbye in return, awkwardly stumbling over your words again as he winked at you on his way out.
All gravity almost left you as soon as he left, legs jelly and breath muted.
You were going to crash and burn come next Friday.
-
A few days passed and Jack was going out of his mind.
He couldn't stop thinking about that night at your club. Of the uncovered skin of your chest, your hair undone, your glossy lips, the slight sheen of sweat on your skin. Every small detail drove him insane.
All that faux confidence had left him as soon as he'd left your eyeline. His heart had been going a mile a minute the moment he walked into the place, reaching a worryingly high heart rate at those bambi eyes staring up at him like he'd caught you with a hand in the cookie jar.
The conflict in his mind between the sexy lingerie he'd gotten a peek of and those innocent eyes staring up at him stirred endlessly from the moment in which he'd bid you goodbye.
He hadn't meant to be too forward, but this had felt like his one chance, and with it he'd somehow signed his death sentence for next Friday.
Ss the days passed, the two of you worked as if nothing had happened whenever your schedules overlapped.
You were still the shy resident who'd squeak whenever caught off guard by him, messing with his poor heart at every turn. You'd share these looks sometimes. Looks that spoke of the anticipation you both felt for what was to come.
And as unsure as he felt about crossing that boundary (and as ashamed as he felt to admit it), this felt like some tricky, painful, extended sort of foreplay that was bursting at the seams.
In bed, he could feel his body itch as he attempted to find sleep. And at night, as he worked, he was constantly on alert at the possibility of your schedules overlapping and having to meet your eyes. You'd undone him without much effort. He couldn't imagine what would happen once he finally saw you on that stage.
Truly, he had no idea what he was doing. He knew he wanted you, but didn't know how to go about it like an adult. Instead, he seemingly opted for what he could probably label as voyeurism.
Because, really, what made him any better than the other rowdy, middle aged men vying for your attention as you worked a pole on stage?
Luckily Jack was used to this constant guilt, this endless turmoil in his mind. The self-depreciation wasn't new, either. It was just a little more glaring any time he'd think of you.
After endless thoughts of you under the pink and purple hues of the club, the days passed and jack finally found himself on the day of his impending doom.
Maybe he was being a tad dramatic about it all. But as soon as he stepped foot in that club during his working hours he came to realize that maybe he would've felt justified in being even more dramatic. His heart felt like it was about to give out.
You hadn't worked that day, clearly. He had opted for half a shift, knowing he'd have gone crazy if he stayed home all day but still wanting to ensure he made more than enough time for your...
Appointment? Date? Meeting? They all sounded either clandestine or suggestive.
He'd tried telling Robby about the whole thing. To try and alleviate some of the weight the whole thing carried. It had proved futile, though, and frankly a little predictable.
"You're- you're actually going? Alone? Isn't that a little... questionable?"
Inappropriate would be a better word for it, yeah.
The words were spoken with an annoying edge of shock and mockery. Jack couldn't say he appreciated them much.
"Hope you know what you're doing, brother."
That was as much reassurance as Jack was going to get from Robby on the matter. It was enough for a man already convinced of stepping into the fire.
When the time came for Jack to step foot in that place, the speed of his heart made him certain that he was on his way to cardiac arrest. The booming music coming from the building and the scent of alcohol mixed with smoke warned him to walk away, but the thought of finding you in there was enough to drive those thoughts away.
The first thing he saw as he walked in was the center stage. It was divided into three, parting towards the left, right and middle. On each flank was a stripper engaging with two or three men perched front row of each respective extension to the stage.
Next thing he saw were small tables scattered all around the place. Some were empty, others had one or two people enjoying a drink, while others were pushed away from the high chairs in favor of making space for a man, his lap, and a stripper sat on it.
He felt out of his depth.
Strip clubs had never been his thing. He held no judgement for the women who made a living inside them, but having gotten married straight out of college, this was just not a lifestyle he had ever engaged with.
After losing his wife, women were something he'd somewhat sworn off. This was the last place he'd ever expected to find himself at this stage of his life. Much less did he imagine ending up here due to the inappropriate work crush he'd fostered on the shy little resident he'd been trying to poach into joining the night shift for the past year.
You were nowhere to be found, and, to be frank, he was a little scared to make eye contact with anyone, lest they believe he's looking for a lap dance.
Jack Abbot and avoidance of eye contact were not two things that went together, he was well aware.
But his wavering confidence would only continue to build up through the night.
It took him a few minutes of wandering around in amazement and confusion until he eventually landed himself on an empty table somewhere near the back. You were bound to show up on stage eventually, right?
Seeing the other girls' performances made his palms sweat.
Would you be doing the same thing? Was he about to witness you in tassels, rhinestones, lace?
Would you sway your hips full of confidence as you marched your way to the pole? Would your muscles contract at the effort needed to swirl around it as you stared him out like a predator did its prey?
His questions only went unanswered for about ten minutes as the curtains connecting the stage to what jack could only assume was your dressing room suddenly flew open.
St the head of the stage, you popped up, standing tall and proud, and completely different from what he'd grown used to seeing all those shifts he'd shared with you these past couple of years.
Your every step was heavy and confident, heels clicking against the shiny floor of the stage. With your hands laid on your hips, your hips swayed seductively, achieving the goal of drawing in every pair of pathetic eyes drooling over you in the audience — Jack included.
Your skin was adorned by baby pink lace, legs, arms, and chest shining under the purple and pink hues of the club. Every inch of you was bare and open for his perverted enjoyment. The lace stuck to your skin and gave him a perfect view of your silhouette. He felt thirst invade his being.
Unable to take his eyes off you, Jack found himself sitting up on his seat, back leaving its recline as his body slowly began to gravitate from his seat into a fully standing position. He was like a moth to a flame, immediately affected by your magnetizing effect.
Every step was mocking torture. He knew his demise was nearing at every step that drew you closer and closer to the edge of the extended stage, where you'd grab onto that pole and finish him off.
He was unable to pay attention to the server who'd stopped by asking him if he'd like a drink, too enthralled by you to do anything more than wave them away.
By the time your manicured hand made its way to the pole, your eyes found his by chance.
There was a millisecond of surprise before that confident vixen consumed you once more. Jack couldn't help but gulp at that look in your eye. The balance shifted immediately. He was no longer your attending, but prey ready to be consumed.
He could have sworn he blacked out for your performance, falling back on his seat the moment you began to wrap your legs around the metal and swirled around it with expertise he never imagined you'd have.
Your every move was life-ruining for Jack. Pathetically, he regretted not camping outside that door waiting for the moment the doors flew open in order to stand a chance at a seat front and center to your show. There was bile forming in his stomach at the sight of every other man eyeing you down, being able to see you up close and throw their unworthy bills in your direction.
Jack thought to himself for a fleeting moment — I'd give you everything. All the money you need. I'd shove it in your purse while you showered in my bathroom. I'd deposit it into your bank account. I'd trap it in the hem of your panties as I watched you dance for me.
Shaking those thought away, he continued to watch you, rendered completely immobile by what he was seeing. The softness of your outfit (or lack thereof) made him dizzy. He ached to run his hand through the delicate lace, to softly snap the bra strap on your shoulder and have you whine his name in return.
He felt sick with desire, something he'd never experienced before. The culmination of feelings he already had towards you — the protectiveness, the adoration, the admiration, the infatuation — fought against the intensity of the lust he that was blossoming inside him. It was always there, but to have it swell, inflamed and threatening to burst made him lightheaded.
Every so often your eyes would find his. You'd send a little kiss his way, or a cheeky wink. Jack's heart boomed out of his chest at every instance.
After what felt like hours, you leaned down to gather all the loose bills men had ready for you, regaining that girlish and innocent air you always had as your performance ended. It was as if you'd been possessed, making your way back to your usual persona as soon as your set ended.
Jack had to brace himself for what he knew was coming. His hands felt clammy and his shirt began to stick to his skin. He had ascended and been brought back down multiple times within those short minutes. He needed to gain his cool back.
But then you walked over, smile shy and eyes giddy.
It was that same look you always had any time he'd call your name for a fun procedure. Even as you walked towards him (no longer swaying your hips in that torturous manner), draped in seductive lace and makeup that could make a man drop dead, he still saw that pretty girl he'd first fallen for.
Your eyes wandered away from his as you stopped at his table with a meek, "Hi."
"Hey," he started, not as smooth as he'd hoped, "That was... some performance."
The way you flushed was a visible, lips turning up in a shy smile.
"Yeah? you liked it?"
"I don't think it'd be appropriate for me to answer that question."
"No? Is your response not family-friendly, then?"
The banter was somewhat new. Back at work, you'd occasionally engage with his back and forth, but you weren't too receptive of it. He knew you were capable of it, as he'd heard you go at it with Santos every other day, but when it came to your superiors (or maybe him in particular), you were more meek.
Maybe it had to do with the way his eyes couldn't find yours. Perhaps you'd noticed the hard time he was having keeping them away from the bare skin he'd been salivating over just a few moments ago. And maybe that was why despite your usual shyness, he still saw some newfound confidence in how you spoke to him.
But two could play at that game.
(Or at least he'd try his hardest to regain the upper hand in order to properly flirt with you. It was the least he could do).
"Why don't you sit and I can tell you all my thoughts?"
Your face morphed from flirtatious to that bashful smile he was so used to seeing. With your eyes timidly downturned, you chuckled as you shook your head.
"As much as I'm sure we'd both enjoy that, I'll get reprimanded," your lips came into a straight line, nose scrunching a bit, "However," you let it drag a bit, "I have a better idea."
At that, you looked around you to see if there was anyone nearby before turning back to him with a smile.
"C'mon," you extended your hand towards his, "The couches are far more comfortable, and I know you've probably been on your feet all day."
He chuckled and took your hand, trying to ignore how sweaty his had been mere minutes prior, "Only took half a shift today. had an important... appointment with someone today."
"Appointment?" you asked, "That's an interesting choice of words, doctor," you spoke as he let you drag him towards the far end of the room.
"Don't wanna test my luck, that's all."
Once you'd made it to the booths, you led him to a worn couch next to a detachable table. Based on some of the other men on the couches, they seemed like the perfect spot in which to get some special attention from the dancers. Jack tried to not let his mind head that way, not wanting to test his luck and all that.
He sat down, comfortably leaning against the couch as you took the spot next to him. Rather than sit normally, you opted to sit on your knees, feet off the floor and body turned towards his own. It had him doing a double take, but he could only assume you weren't allowed to just casually sit unless you were entertaining a patron.
"Feeling lucky, Abbot?"
The added confidence in your cadence was really doing him in. He'd grown so used to your eyes fleeting away from his any time he found you looking his way, looking away if his attention landed on you. There was still a bit of that, but you were firing back. His flirtation was met with reciprocation and he was finding himself at a loss.
"After that performance any man would be lucky to have your attention."
Maybe it was too pointed, but you were so close, and your perfume was beginning to reach and penetrate his pores. The shine of your skin made it impossible to look away, as did the plush of your skin accentuated by the tight lingerie failing at properly concealing the most enticing parts of your body.
Those words seemed to reach a little deeper, and so you chuckled again, shaking your head.
"I'm sure you say that to all strippers."
It was deflection. He could've doubled down with how much seeing you up there — how much having you sat next to him with all your focus solely on him — made him lightheaded and stupid. But he wanted to drag the night as long as possible. He was willing to empty out his bank account if it meant you could sit there and talk to him all night.
He didn't need any funny business with you (as much as every bone in his body was aching for it). He just wanted to get his fill of looking at you, of getting this confident version of you to respond to his flirting, giving him at least some false hope that his infatuation wasn't purely one-sided.
And so he talked. Flirtatious comments came and went. The spaces in between were filled by talking about work, by joking about your weird schedules, your odd hobbies and how you both kept to yourselves in that regard. It was nice, tame, until a charged comment would suddenly pop up in the interim.
"I'm gonna get in trouble if I keep slacking off with you, Doctor Abbot," you said after a while.
Your voice had morphed over the course of your conversation. It was smooth and carried an air of seduction even if what you were saying was completely innocent in nature. Jack was losing his mind.
"Wouldn't want that, would we?"
You shook your head, eyes on his and a satisfied smile on your lips.
"But i think I have an easy fix for that."
That piqued his interest, though his poor heart began to speed up again.
Before he could come up with some flirtatious, yet ambiguous response, you were suddenly pushing his shoulder back, forcing him to recline against the plush of the leather couch and dragging your leg over his, easily straddling his thighs.
Your weight above him made him dizzy. His arms laid limp on his sides, fingers flexing with restraint. He absolutely could not touch you or he'd lose any remaining sanity. It was the one rule at strip clubs — hands off the strippers. It was the most torturous exercise on restraint he'd ever overgone. even if your hips were begging to have his fingers dig into the perfect skin.
A floral scent that had been floating around began to completely overtake him at your newfound closeness. He wasn't sure if it was your perfume or shampoo, or maybe whatever body oil you had on that gave your skin that extra sheen.
"This okay?" you asked at the sudden proximity, "Need to make it seem like I'm working."
Before he could stumble upon a response, you leaned in closer, lips gracing his ear.
"I can touch, but you can't, okay? Don't wanna look suspicious," you whispered, "Don't wanna be sent away to dance for some other guy."
It made him irrationally frustrated to hear of that possibility.
"More than okay," he huffed out.
"You sure? you seem a little tense."
Your nose dragged up his jaw, making him shudder. You weren't fully on him, but rather hovering above him. Your weight laid on your knees, leaving some space between his crotch and your own. The itch to pull you down internally clawed at him.
"Yeah, tense's one word for it."
Once you'd gotten your feel of making the skin of his neck rise in goosebumps, your lips trailed at his cheek, now facing him. Some distance remained between your faces, but not enough for it to be considered appropriate.
"This is weird, right?" you smiled, bashful again, "This is probably not the impression you had of me at work."
He chuckled, fingers digging into the couch beneath him, "Can't say that it was. It's a welcome surprise, though."
You hummed in affirmation before taking in a breath. There was a small glimpse of uncertainty in your eyes.
"So... you're not disappointed?" you began, rephrasing, "I mean... you don't think less of me?"
This caused him to draw his head back slightly. He needed to look at you properly.
And when he did, he found those same eyes that looked to him with worry any time you were certain you'd messed up. It was like you were waiting for the other shoe to drop, to be either objectified or scolded by the man who'd just been melting under you mere seconds ago.
"Kid," he shook his head in disbelief, "you're an adult, and you can do anything you want. Don't let anyone ever try and judge your choices when-"
"No, no, I- I know, I just- I want to know what you think."
That took him by surprise. It also arose a million questions in his mind.
Did you think he was that much of a hardass? That he wouldn't support anything you did, just because it was you doing it? Did you care this much for his opinion?
"Nothing you could do would disappoint me."
Seemingly working your way through a half-formed thought, your mouth shut back up before you could even begin. You gave him those eyes that were always causing him problems back at work. The eyes that held way too much admiration for someone as troubled as him.
You didn't say anything in response. Instead, your hand left his shoulder, reaching up to his cheek and tracing it as you looked down at him with your bottom lip jutting out.
Tucking at a stray curl that always formed next to his ear, you let the moment of fondness pass as soon as it began, smiling down at him once more.
"So, think you'll come again?"
Just like that, the mood shifted to lighthearted flirtation once more. your new normal.
"I'll be front row, kid."
-
A few weeks passed and Abbot kept up with his promise.
Well, maybe he wasn't front row, but he made it in time to see you up on stage doing your short little number twice a week.
It was unfortunate your schedules overlapped so much. He would've stood outside waiting to be let in every other night otherwise.
Every other meeting went just like the first one. They were all held under the pretense of curious innocence. Like ice slowly melting, never going further than tame flirtation.
The suggestive surroundings created an added element of heat that Jack couldn't overlook, but he tried his best. it only became harder when you'd come to sit on his lap, claiming the usual excuse of convenience so you could talk to him without getting reprimanded.
But was it necessary for your lips to trace his neck? For your fingers to play with the hair on his nape? For your breath to fan on his ear?
He'd grown used to the weight of your body on his lap. It was something he couldn't handle losing after just a few times of feeling it.
But despite that, he'd still discourage you wasting your time at the club entertaining him when you could be making money on another man's lap (though the thought killed him). It felt inappropriate to pay you himself, to encourage you to do more than just pretend to keep him busy and entertained, and so he kept his hands to his sides and simply pretended he was like one of the many other men.
And sometimes he felt that maybe he was just that.
But then one of your coworkers would call your name as you sat on his lap mid conversation, telling you that one of the 'big-spenders' was lonely in one of the private rooms, and you'd just give them a look that sent them on their way, one that told them you were busy with something more important.
Jack never questioned this. he simply enjoyed that it meant he could spend just a little longer with you on his lap.
Back at work, no word of these meetings was spoken.
A few looks were shared, a few sheepish smiles and silent agreements that yes, you'd be seeing each other in just a few hours. But nothing further was ever even suggested.
It was your little secret.
It gave Jack an extra edge to his life. The adrenaline spike your meetings gave him rivaled those at his shifts with SWAT.
He never got used to seeing you walk his way, to seeing the sway of your hips as you finished your set and made your way straight to him.
There was no longer any small talk before you were dragging him to a couch and settling on his lap. Your hands got more and more curious every time, though they always remained caressing his jaw and hair, never wandering southern of his neck.
And every passing day, he was growing sicker with want.
Tonight things played out slightly different.
The confident sway of your hips remained, as did the satisfied smile upon seeing the way he tried to subtly eye you up and down as you approached him.
The dragging to a couch in the back of the room was missing. Instead, you led him in a different direction, not speaking a word until you were behind a closed curtain, inside a tiny room that had a couch identical to those outside, just slightly less worn.
There, you parroted your usual moves, guiding him into his seat, but turning back to secure the curtains closed before heading back in his direction.
His heart was going a mile a minute. The velvety walls of the room felt suggestive in nature. The darkened hue of magenta filling up the space reflected perfectly on your skin, making jack gulp against his will.
You donned a burgundy set today. It was tasseled, under the false pretense of covering a little more than usual. Your every move caused the tassels to sway, giving him an eyeful of every curve he ached to touch, bite, lick.
"I thought a change of scenery would be nice."
You broke the silence, once again torturing him with that sway of hips as you sat on his lap again.
— Which was completely unnecessary. No one could see you. There was no need to assimilate, to act as if he was a client. You were alone. Jack didn't voice any complaint.
"Careful, you'll make me think I'm special."
You clicked your tongue, leaning into his ear.
"You are special, Doctor Abbot," you whispered hotly before pulling back and looking into his eyes, "And since we're alone... I thought I'd give a little more special treatment this time around."
Jack's throat went dry. His arms flexed at his sides. His body burned with unchecked desire. He'd been aching since the first time he saw you.
Without any other words, your hands guided his onto your hips, forceful as you made sure he gripped at the bare skin. The tassels tickled at him when his hands went under them.
"Kid..."
"I've never done this before," you began, but your voice remained sultry, "Take a guy back here, let him touch me."
As you spoke, your eyes panned down to his lips, making him lick them absentmindedly.
The gloss on your lips looked so enticing to him, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander as well.
"I usually do a few dances and call it a night. But I've been putting that off these past few weeks."
This time, your weight laid fully on his lap. There were only a few layers of separation between the hardness forming under his jeans and the softness of your-
"I can't focus with you in the room," you continued, "I can't entertain any other man when you're here."
Every word was breathless, and your eyes had lost any sense of subtlety, now fully focused on his lips. Noses bumped, hands reached new places. It was all too heavy for him to handle.
Jack was practically panting by then. Your breaths intermingled. Even your breath had him going dizzy.
"It was bad enough that I couldn't focus at work, and now... now I can't think unless it's your lap I'm sitting on."
"Baby," he moaned.
He couldn't help it. Not when you were so deliciously close. Your lips were a mere inch away from his. and any time he tilted his chin just a tiny bit closer, you'd inch away, forcing him to uselessly chase you.
"I couldn't touch you out there," you breathed out, bottom lip jutted out, almost touching his own, "Cause then I wouldn't be able to stop."
Greedy hands went up and down the bare skin of your back. Every so often they'd land back on your hips, pulling you inhumanly closer, silent in their plea for you to use him. he'd take anything you gave him.
Jack had never felt such desperation in his life. Sweat trickled down his brow, and a small whine threatened to leave his lips. His body pathetically arched towards yours. he was utterly fucked.
"I need you to touch me, Jack."
Jack.
It was always abbot, doctor, sir, never Jack.
It sounded like music coming from your lips.
But, still, he shook his head. his body acted against his needs. For some reason he needed to retain the very last bit of decorum that remained between you.
"I don't know if that's a good idea."
Shaking your head, you refused to listen to those words. Leaning in closer, your tongue peeked out of your lips, teasingly swiping at his lower lip. It was so quick anyone who'd seen it would've missed it. But to Jack it felt like someone had lit him on fire.
"Want you so bad, Jack," you all but moaned, "You've already had me on your lap so many times. Why keep pretending?"
Jack's hands squeezed your hips, stumbling over a response.
Again, you leaned in close. Your lips graced his.
"Kiss me, Jack."
Jack broke, taking the plunge and pressing his lips to yours.
There was nothing accidental or subtle about your first kiss.
Swallowing his groan, you pulled him closer, fingers running through his curls and pulling softly. Your mouths were open, tongues seeking out one other and puffs of breath being shared between you. He could feel your eyes flutter at the intensity of the kiss.
His hands could not find a landing spot. They squeezed at your hips, pulled you closer before running back up the length of your back and tangling in your hair, keeping you hostage in his kiss.
You'd lick into the roof of his mouth, drawing him in, making it torture to even think of pulling away. Your every sigh landed on his lips. Jack couldn't help but grunt at every flick of your tongue against his.
Within seconds of that first, animalistic kiss, your hips began to move against his. It was subtle at first, just a simple sway of your hips into his own. It caused an immediate reaction in him, making him draw a deep breath against your lips and pull you even closer.
The lack of fabric in your lingerie made it so it was just his clothes that remained an obstacle between you. It seemed to bother you pretty quickly into the kiss, as your hands began to paw at his shirt, dragging it up so you could feel at his abdomen.
Your hands were anything but shy, feeling him up like you were trying to meld into his skin. He couldn't blame you. Not when his own hands had been molding you against him, feeling every delicious curve available to him.
After some moments, he reached behind him to pull his shirt off all the way, not missing the tiny mewl you released against his lips at the short moment of separation between his hands from your body. Also gone unmissed was the pout you gave him when your lips separated for the first time.
A second kiss took place just a few moments later, only slightly delayed when you took a moment to eye his naked torso. There was lust in your eyes that made Jack shudder internally. Was that how he'd been looking at you every time you approached him with a new set of life-ruining lingerie?
Again, your hands went up to his chest, hands digging against his pecs. Scratching softly while your tongue attempted to fuck his mouth. He was delirious.
"Yeah, baby, scratch my chest. Just like that..."
That got a reaction out of you. It made you moan, It made you seek out his tongue, trap it in between your lips and suction. Your manicured nails dragged down his chest a little harder now, eventually finding his nipples and rolling. He could do nothing but pull you closer, groan into your lips, rock his hips upward and into yours with a newfound desperation.
"Jack," you sighed out as you pulled away. his lips followed yours, kissing you chastely a few times, "Want you to touch me more."
His hands had been up and down your torso, stuck to your ass and tits, but he hadn't wandered where he knew he'd find the drenched center that had already been dampening his jeans. He knew that the moment he felt you, there'd be no turning back. He'd want to come back again and again, beg you to pull him back here, to say fuck all to your job and let him take you in this tiny room every night. He'd change to days if it meant he could have this every night instead.
But that was too much to drop on you all at once.
Instead, he kissed you again, twirling his tongue in yours before his hand made its way between your bodies.
A full-body shudder overtook him when he reached that crook between your legs. The tiny thong hid nothing, trapped between your lips after all that grinding. Tracing the string with his fingers, a trail of wetness became trapped on his fingers.
He rubbed at you, tracing his way to your clit and circling at the swollen nub. It was begging for his attention, making you cry out at the lightest of touches.
You sighed his name right against his ear. Your hand dug into the skin of his shoulders, gripping onto the muscle as he circled mercilessly at your clit.
It started off slow, calculated, following a particular rhythm that had your eyes crossing. And once he got his fill of your pretty whines of his name, your incoherent pleas for more, he finally sped up, torturing your clit further.
"It's so wet, baby. All for me?"
You nodded pathetically, mouth open, lips gracing the shell of his ear, breath heavy.
Eventually his fingers reached further back, finding your opening. After one finger went another, squeezing into the tight fit of your cunt. It made his mouth water, to think of that pretty pussy weeping around him, unable to take him, too tiny, too tight for him.
You humped at his hand mindlessly, and he let you. He laid his palm flat as he fingered you, letting you rub that aching clit against his palm in the pursue of pleasure.
"Feels so good, Jack. Gonna make me come," you whimpered.
And as much as he wanted to have you shake and cry on his lap, to dig your nails so deep down his back that it scarred, he needed the first time he made you come to be with him, on his dick.
—And maybe also because he was so weak for you, so weak of mind and body that he could already feel his peak threatening to drag him under.
When he stopped his movements, you cried out, continuing to hump at his hand like a bunny in heat. it only served to break him further.
"Jack, fuck me- I'm begging you, please."
Nothing could've taken his breath away like those words. Those breathy, desperate words whined right into his lips. It took a herculean effort not to lose himself at that moment, not to grab you and bend you over and have his animalistic way with you. He wanted to. so badly.
"I'll give you anything you want, baby, you know that," he sighed out, brain completely melted, "I'll fuck you," he nodded to you, a little patronizing, a little dizzy with desire, "I'll take give it to you, baby."
You kissed him again, shamelessly moaning into his lips and going back to humping his bulge. His hands gripped at your ass, pushing you against him, desperate for the friction despite feeling like he was about to explode. You were the most delicious thing he'd ever had on his lap. he was desperate to have you.
Whining into his lips, you went to undo his belt, fidgety and all over the place. He could've helped you out, but he grew distracted as his lips trailed a path down your neck, suckling at skin without any thought in mind other than how good you smelled, how soft your skin was. There was no thought to all the marks he'd end up leaving behind.
When he finally reached your breasts, you'd finally undone his belt and unzipped his pants. He grunted as he lifted his hips and lowered his pants and boxers just enough to give you full access to his dick. You took hold of it just as his lips reached your breasts, fingers easily pushing your bra aside in order to have his fill of you.
He groaned against your tit, nibbling and pulling at your nipple with his tit as you wrapped your hand around him.
"Hnng- ffuck, you're so big, Jack," you panted out, one hand on his dick and another dug deep into his curls, keeping him attached to your breast, "It's not gonna fit."
There was a pout in your voice, he could tell as much. The words had their intended effect on him, making him fuck into your fist just once.
Yeah, it was gonna be a tight squeeze. It was gonna be so excruciatingly tight he ran the risk of cumming within ten seconds of your cunt suffocating him. But fuck if he wasn't going to drag your pussy up and down his cock.
He voiced as much to you.
"But this pussy's gonna take it. right, baby?" His lips trailed their way back up your neck, finding the shell of your ear. Your head tilted away, begging that he press his lips to your skin again, "Hmm? This perfect pussy's gonna take my cock, isn't it? That's what you've been wanting, sweetheart? A big cock in this tiny pussy?"
You fisted at him harder, faster. One hand clawed at his back, surely leaving marks over the ones you'd already left behind.
"J-jack, please— Need it so bad- been thinking about it for so long..."
He took over for you, nudging you so you'd raise your hips a little and taking a hold of his dick. Taking advantage of the angle, he circled his tip against your puffy clit. it was still begging for his attention.
It only made you whine some more. The music from the club drowned out the sound to anyone who may have been outside. but, then again, these sounds were not foreign between these walls.
"Yeah? How long, baby, tell me."
He was torturing himself. Getting the tip in, he swallowed back a groan at the tight fit. It was so warm and wet. It was heaven.
You sobbed out. You were a mess. Some eyeliner pooled under your eyes. The glitter on your cheek was damp with sweat. You were just as fucked up as him.
"Since- since I met you— couldn't get you out of my head. Want you so bad, Jack-" you gasped, feeling him bury himself a little deeper, "Need- need you so much- I'll be so good, baby, I promise-"
Finally, he buried himself all the way in. He knew in that moment he could never look at you the same. You'd broken him down night by night, torturing him with a new little set every time, making his imagination run wild with pictures of his fingers pulling at the delicate strings, at fantasies of bending you over one of those worn out couches and fucking you stupid.
And now he had you sobbing on his lap, grinding against him, using his body like there was no shame left in you.
His head rolled back to the cushion of the couch, hands gripping your hips unforgivingly as you fucked yourself on him. His hips followed yours, matching your rhythm, making you throw your head back in pleasure.
You shone perfectly under the fluorescent lights of the room. Your makeup was a little runny and your hair a little messy, but you still looked like a fucking dream. He couldn't believe he had such a pretty thing going crazy on his cock. The thought alone made him rock his hips harder against you.
Despite the discomfort, he put his weight on his feet, humping you like an animal in heat. The faster he went, the more cries of his name that left your lips. it felt like sustenance to him.
"Feel good, sweetheart? Huh? Tell me- tell me how good it is-"
"S-so good, Jackie- hnng- gonna come for you- gonna— J-jack, ffffuck-"
It drove him crazy. He needed more of you. He needed to die buried in you.
With one hand, he pulled your head in his direction, fingers gripping at your hair before slipping to the angle of your jaw. There, he held you in place, licking lazily at your lips as you continued to cry his name.
"Mouth open for me, baby. Tongue out- yeah, like that, gorgeous."
The kiss was absolutely nasty, but Jack couldn't help himself when it came to you. His tongue licked at yours, and like the obedient girl you were, you let him have his fill. He licked into your mouth, swallowing every tiny gasp when his hips drove into that perfect spot in your cunt.
When you came, you finally pulled away, stuttering a series of gasps of his name as your nails clawed down his back one last time.
He kept on fucking you, eyes clamped shut in pleasure. Your sounds continued spurring him on as he reached his peak. Your voice whispered in his ear seductively, almost making him lose his balance in the process—
"Inside- 'm on birth control. Come inside, please-"
Jack's eyes rolled back as he finally let go with a pained groan and one last thrust. His body deflated on the couch as he buried himself as deep as humanly possible, filling you up with everything he had to give. Atop him, your hands continued to run through his hair, adding that extra layer of pleasure for him.
Dome silence followed, though the music continued to sound off in the background. Your heavy breaths took up most of the sound in the small room.
"Jesus Christ, kid," he panted out, hands still intermittently squeezing at your hips, "I really hope you're not doing that to every guy you give a lap dance to," he chuckled, breathless.
You carded your hand through his hair, frowning jokingly at him.
"Told you I was giving you special treatment."
"'Special''s damn right."
More silence ensued; comfortable silence. Your bodies relocated slightly, with you still on his lap but cuddled up against him and him no longer hard. It was comfortable, even somewhat domestic. Every so often you'd kiss at his skin or him at yours. It was more than clear that this was no spur of the moment thing, that he was far more than any other man who'd ever walked through these walls.
Then you broke the silence once more.
"Remind me to thank Trinity for her big mouth."
Jack laughed under you, nudging you under his chin, kissing your hair chastely.
author’s note: jumping on the chubby robby bandwagon because i love me a man that can eat and look good filled out 😩
cw: mild nsfw content, subby robby, chubby robby, kinda dom reader, fem reader, please let me at this man holy god
robby had been gaining weight recently- his pants fitting tighter around his waist, his chest becoming softer under the forest of hair that rested there. and you couldn’t have been any happier.
you were so excited that he was filling out, it meant he was eating, he was healthy, he was doing better. most of this was your doing, extra portions shoved onto his plate at dinner time, distracting him in the morning from joining jack at the gym, and of course- stress snacking.
(he always says he’s gonna stop snacking but oh no you just restocked the pantry with his favorite snack cakes and chips whatever shall he do~)
now he laid on his back in his california king, bare back against the plush pillows, you perched up against his softness, hands caressing his sides that spilled over his now tight fitting sleep pants.
“look at you, so handsome, mikey. and all mine.”
he whimpered as your hands moved to card through the hair on his chest, back arching against your touch, pupils blown wide. he could feel your bare pussy sliding against his stomach, coarse hair sat flat with the sticky residue of your arousal, his chest heaving with each breath as his cock pressed harshly against the cotton fabric, a large dark spot leaked through where the head pressed against his thigh.
the bite of the lace soft pink babydoll nightie brushing against the trail that was left behind, the dual sensation sending shocks straight to his brain and his cock.
“so handsome. all full, your tummy all soft, your thighs plump, and your ass too, i love it.”
robby’s hips bucked up at the praise, his head thrown to the side, his eyes shut and face flushed all the way down to his chest- a pretty dark red that accentuated the dark purple marks that littered down his neck.
“ah ah, eyes on me, pretty boy. don’t hide, wanna see you.”
your fingers hooked under his chin, gently bringing his head back to face you, his big brown eyes glazed over as they bore into yours, his lips swollen from either your kisses or from biting down on them.
he wasn’t used to being taken care of, especially from his recent weight gain, but now, he doesn’t think he could get enough of your sweet words, plus the way your body reacted to his sent his mind reeling into euphoric bliss.
saw the title to this and instantly dove in ohhuudjdjjskdjdj my GOD there’s something about cooking for and feeding him and taking care of him and seeing the physical proof of it gOD I NEED HIM
titsay
vaporwave
romaincrisis
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