"૮₍ ˶•⤙•˶ ₎ა"

‘03 obsessed w armin !

[3688431-remade-deactivated20220]

MY guardian angel jacks off to me while i sleep

[pansyfemme]

its crazy how no one wants a highly suicidal hyper emotional pervert anymore

[bluelock-obsessionist]

Blue Lock Boys Kinks

Nagi Seishiro: somno

You and Sei had been dating for a while before you discovered his biggest kink. It was likely that he didn't know it himself: he put minimal effort into sex, though it always felt good thanks to his size and strength from soccer.

You were surprised when you stirred one night at the feeling of a large, cold hand running over your chest, rolling your nipple between two fingers. You awoke with a jolt as a gasp, rolling to face Nagi, who only stared at you in the darkness with an unchanged expression.

That interaction ended with you riding him until the both of you climaxed, and after that there was an unspoken rule between the both of you about midnight sex: anything goes.

Once you had a wet dream and turned over to see Sei sleeping peacefully on his back. Pushing his shirt up, you rode his abs until you came. Even with your soft moans, he didn't stir, his hair fluttering with the force of his deep breathing.

Another night you awoke to the gentle tickle of a tongue between your legs: Nagi pulled you from sleep with lazy strokes, his eyes watching your face as you slowly stirred.

"Sorry," he mumbled, pulling back slightly. "Missed your taste..."

"Don't stop," you rasped, pushing his head back down. "Don't apologize."

Sei listened, and didn't say another word, his tongue slowly pulling you to your peak, and up over it.

"Go to sleep." He kissed your thigh. "I'll clean you up."

[kurooangel]

˚₊‧꒰ +18. MDNI !

being camboy!nagi seishiro’s girlfriend means being loved by his audience.

the first time he got you on stream was accidentally, but you ended up riding him on his chair on live and since then his chat goes crazy and begs for a second cameo since it’s nagi’s most popular video and his followers grew a lot after that. so when you agree and tell nagi that you want to do it, he goes to take the camera.

“sei… i’m nervous” you say softly, rubbing your thighs together. your hardened nipples can be seen through the fabric of your shirt since you’re not wearing a bra, and he can tell how horny you are. he grabs his fat cock through his sweats and accommodates it before placing the camera and turning it on. “it’s okay, we’ve already done this. lemme do all the work, just sit and look beautiful” he whispers, giving you a quick peck and laying on the couch.

you’re both laying on the couch, your back against his bare chest as he kisses your neck. the viewer’s number change per second, an amount of people watching and commenting about how cute and beautiful you are making you blush. “gonna pamper her a bit” nagi says with his usual lazy voice, as you take off your shirt, arching your back off his chest. your eyes land on his, a silent plea. he grins slightly and his hands cup your breast, pressing them together. “beautiful. just perfect, isn’t she?”

his fingers toy with your hard nipples, pinching them and coaxing loud whines out of you. your nails dig into his toned biceps, your lips tangle with his and he swallows your moans. it’s slow and sweet until his tongue grazes your lower lip, demanding entrance, and he quickly deepens the kiss. he squeezes gently your boobs before one of his hands makes his way down the waistband of your pyjama pants, toying it. you feel goosebumps beneath his touch, and when you pull away for air, a tiny string of saliva ties your lips. “hips up” he mutters, gravelly voice before humming in approval when you obey. nagi pulls down your pants, exposing your plushy thighs and beautiful lingerie.

“show them, baby. don’t be shy” he mutters soothingly, fingers pleasing your nipple lazily. you look at the camera and spread your legs open, showing to the audience how drenched you are. your beautiful white panties have a big stain because your pussy drooling over your hot boyfriend. his hand sneaks between your thighs and starts rubbing two fingers against you, feeling your throbbing clit and your eager core. “sei—!” you moan, your back’s arch deepening as he pulls the fabric to the side, exposing your delicious folds. “look at her”

he lost count of the incoming donations, too focused on you, but he knows he’ll marry you in one of those expensive vivienne westwood bride dresses with the money of this stream. you turn your head and read the chat, blushing immediately after.

chameleonpurple7: she’s so fucking pretty. (¥35 000!) brother1destroyer: how can a man be so lucky? pussystriker: god she’s so fucking dirty.

nagi grins lazily and kisses your temple before his fingers run over your lips, opening them to give a better vision of your pussy. a finger runs over your folds, teasing your clit and making your entrance clench around nothing. “sei, please” you cry out, and he kisses your forehead as he slides two fingers into you. you moan loudly, whispering thank you’s and digging your nails further into his biceps. your warm walls clench around his fingers, your nipples harden under his touch and the knot on your low stomach tightens. you can feel his bulge twitch against your butt, but he doesn’t seem to care — nagi just wants to dot his pretty git.

his pads grind against your sweet spot as his thumb starts rubbing your clit lazily, making your thighs twitch. you whine and tears run down your eyes, the pleasure too overwhelming for you to handle. “cum for me, angel” he says sultry against your ear before nipping your earlobe, pressing his thumb harsher against your clit as yo snap. he keeps fucking his fingers into you, letting your squirt splash over you, him, the couch and some drops even reaching the camera.

you pant and smile to the camera, blowing a kiss before kissing nagi softly as he caresses your back before excusing yourself to get a shower. nagi lets out a soft chuckle when you stumble slightly as you get up, but stares at you so, so whipped. he smiles and reads the chat before answering, “yeah, she’s beautiful indeed”

⠀ ⭑ ⠀⠀masterlist

[madamechrissy]

Dopamine

You're married to Satoru Gojo - an arrangement since your childhood, one you're so excited for. You soon find out - he wants nothing to do with you. Any one is preferable, from the waitress at your engagement party, to his secretary. Torn apart by insecurities and devastated by the fact that you can't make this one sided affection work, you decide to find something to keep you going until Gojo finds a way to end the marriage. That's what lands you right in the notorious boxing ring in town - led by Ryomen Sukuna, who finally sees you.

pairings - Arranged! Gojo x Reader x Boxer! Sukuna

warnings!!! - Heavy, heavy angst, cheating and reactive cheating, Satoru is ooc, cruel and mean, reader starts off very shy/insecure, Soft Sukuna but he still don't mind being buried inside married reader, a fuck ton of feelings, eventual smut, explicit, mentions of insecurities, painful and hurtful all around.

This WILL have multiple endings, all of these three are gonna be messy. Told from Reader, Gojo and Kuna's POV and split up by each! based on this drabble - WC - 9k

This won the 30k followers poll! Thank you so so much again!!

part one

Gojo -

Satoru Gojo his entire life has been used – as the ‘head of the Gojo’ clan, as the heir to the empire, everything in his life has been set in stone the moment he was born. They never gave him a real choice, barely let him have friends his entire childhood, no it was studies, it was pressure, it was how to be absolutely perfect, telling him who to talk to, how to act, how to walk.

He knew inevitably his time in college was just a fun distraction, where he had friends for the first time, where he felt almost normal, where he secretly dated – his parents would not approve – of the girls he talked to. Yet he fell into it just a bit, enjoying it too much, partying and fucking the worst girls, ones that would make his parents gasp in shock.

He hung out with the worst crowd, too, straight up heathens really, to rebel as much as he could, before the inevitable fact – his dad was dead, and he was turning twenty four, there was no more partying, no more life, no more dreams. All there was – the obligations, the responsibilities, the arranged wife they’ve had picked out since you both were children.

Oh, you’re beautiful, it’s not that.

You’re sweet, you’re smart, you’re kind.

It’s not that.

You’re not his choice, nothing about his entire fucking life was his own choice, and this is just another thing, another way to show him what he is – just something to be used, just a tool for his family to have power. The richest family in Japan must have that, right? And you were from the second richest, and one of the most powerful, from an impeccable line.

You were impeccable, you were exceptional, you were ‘perfect’.

And Satoru Gojo hates you on sight, the moment you meet him at the engagement party – yeah, that's where he officially meets you, and doesn’t just ‘hear about you’. That’s where he sees how fucking gorgeous and bright you are, and for a moment his heart hammers in his chest, for a moment he’d sink to his knees to get a taste of you.

Then he remembers it all, when you shyly look down, when you ring your hands in front of you.

Obligation.

Arrangement.

You didn’t want this, want him, choose him – who would other than for his name, for his power? For what he could do for your family, for everyone. You’re shoved into this – a contract from your youth, who knew what the fuck you wanted, or who you’ve been with, who you want to be with?

You didn’t choose him, he didn’t choose you.

He keeps reminding himself in moments where he thinks the light from the chandeliers are hitting too nicely on your collarbones, when he looks at your lips just a little too long, instead he politely smiles, and turns away. Why, do you ask, does he turn away from his future wife?

Why is he later kissing another woman, fingering her right on the balcony, where pretty much anyone who walks by could see, smirking against her neck with every moan she muffles. Why does Satoru Gojo pick the most common, slutty little waitress to do so, when you’re there in a beautiful fucking gown, and look lost and upset, your lips trembling?

Because imagine a world where he falls – and you didn’t choose him. Imagine he thinks for a brief moment he could have happiness in his life, a joke really, it’s just flitting little moments. He can only handle so much pain, and in turn he causes you the pain, the embarrassment, sucking her juices off his thick fingers after she cums, laughing just a bit and walking back in.

His elders are furious, everyone is murmuring about his antics, as he throws back a shot and chuckles, but you?

You just look down, and a couple of tears fall, turning away and sipping on your wine. You say nothing even as he dances with you later, stumbling a bit with how drunk he’s gotten, to piss them off – to tell them he’s not going down without a fight – looking at you curiously.

You stare at his chest, you say nothing.

“Having fun?” He asks, and you scoff a bit, looking up with glassy eyes, and for a moment it pierces his drunk heart.

He’s horrible.

But isn’t he just a disappointment anyway?

“Am I having fun watching you with another woman at my engagement party?” You ask softly, shaking your head. “I get it, I’m not your type. I knew that from people telling me so.”

He pauses, right in the center of the dance floor.

“Yet I expected some decorum, I expected you to at least be respectful, not to show the world how unappealing you find me,” you whisper, biting down on your lip, shaking your head now. “I wanted to at least try here, with you.”

Satoru can’t speak.

Until he spins you, and catches you, his big hand taking over your waist, thumb pressing under the swell of your breasts. He almost falls then, from just a look, yet he holds himself back, he stops every insane thought and action, laughing easily, like he’s amused.

Satoru is good at hiding.

“Ya thought we’d have some story book romance, huh? Oh… you’re a fairy princess and I’m from another kingdom? And oh…” He leans down, so low to you, lips a breath away. “I fall for the princess, she’s just so beautiful, how can’t I?”

“Gojo…”

“News to you, perfect little fairy princess, I’m not interested in marriage, or any of this shit, this show, I fucking hate it,” his words are harsh, as he squeezes you too tightly, so tightly you’re shaking, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Your prince from another kingdom just stuck his fingers in a waitress. That’s reality, sweetheart.”

You tremble in his hold, and he knows then.

He hurt you.

Good, he thinks, shit will be easier that way, safer if you hate him, if you smack him, tell him to fuck himself. Yet you tilt your chin up and spin as the dance calls for, giving a little curtsey as he steps closer, not showing a hint of emotion aside from your tears that you seemingly can’t stop.

“I see,” is all you say then, stepping back into his arms, as the crowd of gossiping families speaks of it all, you hold all of your composure, even as he raises a brow, looking down at you. “Maybe I am foolish, to have thought it that way. Yet I still don’t understand why you’re…”

“What, little princess? So mean?”

You just look down again, quiet, swallowing visibly, you smell too good, invading his fucking senses. “I didn’t think you were mean when I met you as a child.”

“As a child?” Satoru pauses, and you sigh, shaking your head.

“Of course you wouldn’t remember, I’m not very special.” You step back as the song ends, and your tragic eyes meet his, before lowering them and bowing a little bit. “Have a good rest of your evening, I’m feeling a little…” You look at the girl he’d just kissed. “Sick.”

When you rush off, politely excusing yourself, Satoru feels this sinking in his heart, questions simmering under the surface – what if he just was kind to you? What if he at least didn't make a fool of himself?

But he doesn't go after you, no that would have been the ‘right’ thing to do. The thing is, you're much better off without him. So he's dancing with women who make his family furiously whisper amongst themselves, and he just knows -

You will hate him, and you’re better off for it.

*****

You

You didn't expect a fairy tale marriage. Even marrying the man who is basically the ‘prince’ of all the families, all of the clans, the Gojo heir. You may as well be the ‘princess’ of your own, both of you promised as children to each other, knowing no love or match would come to anything.

This was it, your future, but you met him when he was just a little kid, he's two years older than you. His blue eyes and spiky white hair were enough to make your heart race, but mostly you noticed how sad those blue eyes were.

He wasn't mean then, he was kind and reserved, not boisterous, laughing and acting a fool. He was cautious more like you are, both of you not wanting to disappoint your very harsh parents who had so many expectations. Satoru had given you his hand, holding it tightly, pressing a little kiss on the back of it.

So you'll be my wife some day

Yeah…

You're um… pretty.

That was it, just a moment and then he'd had to run off. And you only saw Satoru in bits and pieces, here and there from afar, watching and knowing he didn’t notice you. Yet that moment gave you hope. 

Just to fucking crush it all.

It's your wedding night, and his staff is carrying all of your luggage inside the expensive mansion. Satoru is drunk, you notice he is around you, as if that helps with the pain of having to be married to you, stumbling just a bit and chuckling darkly when you try to help him.

“I'm fine,” he yanks your hand off like you burned him. Your tummy is in knots, you feel sick. “Let me show you your room. Princess.”

He says it always mockingly, tonight you know he was with someone again, he's made no attempt to hide kissing others. You're sure he probably does more, but you're innocent yourself so you don't exactly know what's what. Your parents pounded innocence and propriety in your head.

You'll be Gojo’s wife, you must be pure for him.

What a joke, really, to be pure for someone who will never want you, to watch him kissing on necks in the gardens, laughing until he sees your face. You never have been a very confident girl, but everyone has always told you that you're pretty, lovely, so you sort of didn't think your looks were an issue.

Then again, it could just be you. Maybe you're boring, maybe you're too proper. Your mind wracks with doubts as he leads you up the winding staircase of the Gojo mansion up to a dark hallway. He opens a door and you pause, breath catching in your throat at how beautiful it is.

“This is our room?” You ask softly, the blue silk bed and gossamer canopy snug in a room of soft whites and blues. He chuckles, making you look at him.

“They had it made for us, pretentious isn't it?” You blink a bit.

“I think it's beautiful,” it's quiet when you step in, still in your beaded and saying white wedding gown. You slip off your veil and take a breath. Looking in the mirror.

You look gorgeous today.

No matter what he says or doesn't say, you see it in that reflection. In your lashes, in your eyes, in your lips, painted a pretty crimson. Your body is showcased to perfection, modest but still sensual, just hints of your lines and curves outlined, the material glinting in the soft light.

“Your room,” he says at the doorway, and you pause, making him smirk. “You didn't think we were fucking did you?”

You blush furiously, looking down nervously at your hands entwined in front of you. “I did think we would… make the marriage official even if you don't find me attractive.”

It's dead silent, lingering in the air – your insecurities rampant.

“Why? Because our duty?” He asks, stepping inside, his dress shoes echoing on the floor, coming to stand behind you, reflection in the mirror making you tremble.

“We will need to have babies, it's expected of me. Or I'll be… a failure as a wife.” Your voice breaks, and for a moment you see blue eyes soften, you feel fingertips slipping over your straps, yet they halt, and his eyes narrow. 

“I won't fuck you, not for duty or expectations, fuck them and fuck that.”

It's like a slap to the face. You take a breath, trembling now. “Gojo, am I that displeasing really? I tried so hard to look-”

“Nothing will make me fuck you,” he murmurs coolly. “We will ride this shit out till I find a way to end it somehow.”

“End it?” your brows draw together, eyes swimming in unshed tears, his fingers slip off now, going to your back, slowly undoing the little rows of buttons methodically.

“An annulment, divorce, whatever… fuck this shit, I'm not staying married.” he is casual as he helps you out of your dress, knuckles tracing up your spine, then he smirks. “Oh shit. You want me? Hah… that's cute.”

“I… um… you…” You're flushed, reflection in the mirror blushing, as you look at him, his cruel smirk, his mean eyes. “Am I not supposed to want you?”

“Of course you do, I am Satoru Gojo,” he presses those straps down, pausing when he gets a view of your breasts as you hold the dress against them, your back exposed and bare. “You can always touch yourself and think of me, who am I to deny that? But I will never touch you.”

It's like he just stabs you in the stomach. You turn, facing the cruel, tall man now, on the night you hoped for something, anything, but you're just met with a mean curve of his lips. “So what, you'll just… fuck anyone but me?”

“You can cuss?” He laughs a bit, fingers curling along one of the carefully coifed ringlets.

“Yes, I can. I just don't usually,” you take a breath. Trying to remember. 

Obey him.

Treasure him.

For your family

“You don't know me and you won't even try to, will you?”

“You want dick that bad, huh?” You gasp, slapping him as hard as you can then, he winces and rubs his cheek, glaring at you. You falter, looking at his pink cheek and gasping.

“I'm sorry. I…”

“Let's get one thing straight, princess,” Satoru Gojo leans over you, an arm on either side, tilting his head as you grip your wedding dress tightly to your chest. “We can do our own things. I get it. You have to live here for now.”

For now.

“But don't you dare fucking hit me,” he grips your wrist, bruising with his long fingers, you gasp out at the pain, tears falling. “Not used to men not wanting you, huh?”

“What!?” You're blinking in confusion, his grip tightening, your heart sinking.

You feel so sick.

“Never been turned down because you're the family princess, aww. So cute,” he leans down, touching your cheek, eyes a cruel bluee. “Everyone after that money, after a chance with you, so special. Well you're not fucking special to me, we are just the same.”

“I don't think I'm special or anything!? I never said that.”

“Don't have to, I can just see it.”

You're shaking in his hold. “I just thought we could try, you don't even know if we have anything, a connection or-”

Gojo laughs at you.

He laughs. 

“Try what, fucking you? You want my dick real bad.”

“No!? Just if we could feel a connection? I… like you haven't kissed me, how do you even-”

Satoru grabs your face, leaning low and pressing his lips against yours, capturing them and making you lose your breath. You melt when his plump lips work yours, when a hand comes to entangle in your hair, your hands slipping off your dress so that your nipples hit the cool air.

His tongue slips in your mouth, exploring the recesses with far too much finesse, hot and drooling as he presses you against the hard wood of the dresser.

You've never kissed.

You try to move your tongue back, knowing you're awful at it, your arms slipping around his neck. He's mean, he's cruel, but you want to try, you want to have this. Feel whatever this dizzy sensation is, one of his hands gripping your breast as he pulls back, lips glossy, eyeing them now.

“I'll give you this,” he murmurs softly. “You have perfect tits.”

“Um…” You're stammering again, whimpering when his thumb brushes your nipple. 

“Perfect posture, pretty face, nice little body. It's not enough though sweetheart," he pulls back now, grinning and crossing his arms as you just stand there. “There, your kiss, and there's nothing between us. Is there? Enough to shove that fantasy out of your head?”

Nothing!?

“You think keeping your tits out will make me hard?” You gasp, covering them up, blinking back more hot tears.

He wipes his lips with his thumb. As if to remove the kiss from his memory. You look down, pain making you dizzy – deep pain.

“I just… you’re so sure that this won’t work that you’re not trying!” He laughs softly, without humor.

Charming. Handsome. Cruel.

Satoru’s two fingers brush down your collarbone and across it, a mean smile on a devastatingly pretty face as he watches goosebumps dance across your skin. "You want me to touch you. Hmm?"

"I just…" you cover yourself with your arms now, suddenly so insecure, you were anyway but this was more. It was worse, having the man you've been infatuated with since a kid turning you down, on a night you felt so beautiful. "I just thought we could try to find some common ground, to maybe make this work. Become… more?"

He leans down, his sweet breath against your lips, tickling them as his blue eyes glitter, cold like the most beautiful sapphires, and just as hard, there’s no emotion in their depths. So cold you shiver, swallowing nervously.

"Oh sweetheart, I don't want any of it. What they tell me to do, what they expect, no... I'll burn it all to the fucking ground, and them with it.”

“Burn it to the ground?” Your whisper is soft, his lips curve mean when he grips your chin.

"You're a pretty girl, but I'm not for you. That's the most you're getting from me.”

Not. For. You.

"What is so wrong with me?” You hate how desperate you sound.

Was this who you are?

Do you know yourself outside of becoming Satoru Gojo's wife?

“It’s not…” he trails off, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. “You just don’t seem to get it, little princess. It’s an inconvenience, this entire thing.”

Great.

You’re just a fucking inconvenience to your ‘husband’.

“We will let them think we're good for a year, maybe two. Then I'll get out of this, you should thank me really, it's not like you chose it either.”

He turns now, leaving you close to collapsing, with the pain, with the casual cruelty. “Satoru…”

“Don't fucking call me that,” he snaps, looking back at you. You step back and bump into the elegant dresser, shaking as he looks at you with such hatred. “You don't get to call me my first name.”

“I am… I am sorry if I messed something up. If I did something wrong…” You're sniffling your tears, trying to keep it together. “I haven't even kissed before and I probably am just bad at it. Just give me a chance to-”

“Stop trying,” his voice is softer, like he fucking feels bad for you. That's worse than his cruelty – pity. “Just keep to yourself and I will too, until I find a way out of it. It's useless to try.”

“Useless to?”

“Sweetheart,” his tongue is honeyed, a lilt to his voice. “I'll never want you.”

The knife in your heart?

Twisted.

“Oh, I see…” You take a breath, just nodding then, hands gripping the beaded material so tightly they ache.

Obedient.

Sweet.

Serve your husband.

It's what you were trained to be, a traditional wife who follows her husband's orders, even your stinging palm was beyond what you're used to. How can you serve a man that doesn’t want you, how can you obey someone when their only order is for you to quit trying?

As he walks out, with just one look over his shoulder before he shuts that door, leaving you alone in the room on your own in tears on your very wedding night… how can you act like that kiss meant nothing to you? How can you not sink down on that bed all alone, and sob.

The boy you fell in love with doesn't remember you.

Doesn't want you.

No, he hates you.

And you'll have to endure this and be a failure to your parents, the worst of all your fears.

You don't stop sobbing until dawn breaks into the windows.

*****

Gojo

It's been a month of having you in his home, you're trying to be so perfect too. Dinner ready every night, you sit there and wait for him, smiling so pretty, wearing some new outfit as if he will ever touch you again, trying to talk to him, to get to know him.

Satoru can't stand you.

All you do is make him want to end it quicker, so that he has no feelings in this. No amount of slutty little slips or lingering before bed time is getting him to consummate the marriage, to give in to what his family and elders shoved on him, controlling his entire life.

Nah fuck that.

Satoru is balls deep inside his secretary right now, condom dripping with her cum as he lets her bounce up and down his latex covered cock. He leans back and moans as she works him like a pro, bouncing her ass and letting it jiggle under the shoved up pencil skirt.

Of course he thinks of you, fists his cock to images of those tits, imagines those lips around his tip. All the more reason to not fuck you, imagine if he did? You were a virgin, probably would lay there and not know how to do shit, you could barely kiss him back.

He'd have to be all gentle, not slam you down and bottom out like he could right now. She's moaning, too loud, he has to slam a hand on her mouth, lips against her ear.

“We're at work,” he reminds gently.

“Sorry Mr. Gojo. Mnh!” Satoru's big hands work her up and down, bottoming out as she cums, covering her own mouth as she screams out.

“Hah, so messy,” he taunts, she's squirting all over his Armani slacks, right when the door opens.

Fuck.

Did he not lock it?

He pauses, and its…

You.

You quickly shut the door and turn away, as his secretary gasps, panicking and lifting up. Satoru drags her back down, eyeing you.

“Wife,” he teases, you turn to look at him, lunchbox in your hands. “Didn't expect you at my work. Can I cum real quick, then we can talk?”

You say nothing, obedient little thing that you are, not an ounce of fire in you aside from a little smack. He supposes that's how you were raised, how boring really, but he shoves the woman down once more. Toying with her clit and making her moan in front of you, right as he busts in that condom, groaning softly.

“Fuck, there we go,” he taps her and she hops off, giggling when she tugs her skirt down, rushing past you.

“Mrs. Gojo.” she says, you just step back and nod.

“Hello.”

‘Hello’ is what you say, to the woman who'd been riding your husband's cock?

He tosses the condom in the trash under his desk, sighing and smirking over at you, when you turn and see him, still hard and covered in milky seed, turning back around again.

“I'm sorry.”

“You're sorry?” He demands, slipping his boxers up now. “I was fucking someone and you're sorry?”

“I should have called first,” you turn back again, as he zips up, cheeks tinged pink.

You look beautiful today.

He wouldn't tell you. But you do.

“I was just… I learned to make sushi? I was so bored lately. Then… they kind of look ugly? But they're um… yummy and-”

“Just stop, fuck,” you look at him, tears in your eyes, clenched fists at your side when he takes the bento box. “Stop trying so hard, it's not gonna happen.”

“Gojo-”

“Stop, don't hurt yourself more.”

“But why am I so… why would you never ever want me?” you whisper brokenly then. “I am not trying to be mean but her? She's not even… attractive!? I don't-”

He laughs at you again, shaking his head. “You are a spoiled rich girl, a mean little thing. Because she's not drop dead gorgeous I couldn't want her? Looks mean nothing really, little princess. It's just you who I don't want.”

Your breasts heave up and down, finally a glare on your otherwise sad little pretty face. “I am trying!”

“I don't want you to fucking try, constantly acting like the perfect wife. I don't want it. Don't want you, how clear can I fucking make it!?”

You step up to him then, tilting your head to look up at the tall, cruel man, lipstick on his fucking neck, smirking at you. “Well maybe I don't want YOU, but I fucking TRY.”

“Oh. You want me,” he tilts your chin up, grinning at you, feeling your skin hot to the touch. “Bet you're so desperate you'd lick her pussy off me. Wouldn't you? For a chance.”

“I would never,” you shake your head. “Fine, you win. I won't try anymore.”

“Good. It's for your own best interest,” he pats your cheek and smiles. “What's on your plans today, hmm little perfect wife?”

“Not making dinner.” he smirks at you again. “Not trying for you ever again.”

You rush out of the door, dejected, shoulders slumped, when you look back at him though?

That look.

Heartbroken, devastated, done for. Like you just lost all your goddamn will to live.

That one hurts.

Satoru was not cruel before you. Sure he was a dick, he played a lot, he was conceited, but to make you give up trying made him have to push you away. If even fucking in front of you didn't he had to push it further, and he thinks that's the moment you gave up on him.

It's for your own best interest to end this when he can, to be strangers.

Your eyes are burned in his brain as he opens your dumb bento box, and sees these pretty little Sushi. Shaped like little hearts with pink paper instead of the traditional.

He swallows down his guilt when he sees them laid out with a cup of soup, rice, a drink even. And a little note on pink paper.

He hates himself more when he opens it. 

Gojo, I know you don't want me, don't want this, but if we could just try… I think there could be something, truly. When we kissed I did feel it, somewhere buried under the surface. 

I know I'm not who you chose, or who you want, but I hope one day we could grow to like each other. I am trying my hardest and I just hope that it can be enough.

Have a great day at work, I will see you at home.

Tears slip onto the note, bleeding the ink through the paper, he looks at the shut door you'd walked out of, remembering your eyes..they'd always fucking haunt him. That look of defeat written all over them.

You were bringing him lunch and love notes when he was letting a secretary ride his cock.

“Mr. Gojo?” his assistant opens his door, and he pauses, looking up at her. “You have a two a clock.”

“Right…” He just stares at the sushi, at the note, before shutting his eyes, swiping off tears he hasn't cried since he was a little kid.

That night, no dinner is made by you. No it's the chefs as it should always be, but it's a sign, as is you not in that dining room waiting for him. He walks around the mansion, looking for you, for any sign that you're in his home.

Why does he care?

He hears your sobs from the room you are supposed to share, and rests his door on it.

Why did you have to try so hard, when he told you not to?

“He will never w-want me…” You're sobbing and hiccuping. “Never enough.”

He swallows down his own self loathing, resting his head on the door, wondering at just who he is. Is this Satoru Gojo, or is this Satoru Gojo trying to be anything else but what he's always been pushed into?

He walks off to his own room, shutting the door. He'd have to end this marriage soon as he can, in whatever way that meant – to get you the fuck away from him. You may hate him for it, but at least you'd have a little bit of a choice in your life.

*****

You

You come home from an event with Satoru, a press junket where you have to act like a happy newlywed. And you do just that, you play your role, giggling with his hand on your waist, the most contact you've had since that kiss – the one where he felt nothing for you. The one that you felt shaken from, suddenly fucking delusional, in spite of the fact of one thing.

Satoru Gojo made sure to let you know there was no chance, he didn’t mince words, didn’t lead you on, it was your own hope that made you keep trying that first month, that hope that even after seeing him with his dick inside a woman, maybe he’d feel anything. Fuck, he made sure to cum before she got off of him, didn’t even stop mid fuck.

That’s how unimportant you were.

Yet even then you tried, until he made that disgusting comment – licking another woman off him? Calling you pathetic?

Well, you were.

You were not going to be cruel to him despite the rage in your heart, however, you just no longer try, it’s quiet when you take off your heels at the door, and he slips off his dress shoes. You both say nothing, but you feel his eyes on you at times, as if he expects some word out of your mouth.

You no longer say good morning, good night, you just live your life with Satoru for another month like this, he’ll have a girl over in his room, but you keep to yourself, living so alone… yet, with him.

Your few friends you have get worried for you, every time you get to see them over the next couple months you look more tired, you don’t look like you’re eating, you have dark circles under your eyes, the eyes that don’t glimmer any longer. They share their concerns quietly, over a nice brunch, but you act like everything is just fine.

Tonight your mother had pulled you aside, making sure to dissect your looks to a fault, including said dark circles – As if you didn’t have enough insecurities just being married to Satoru Gojo, a man who’d fuck anyone but you.

“You have to keep yourself together, look he’s all over those women,” she whispers, you would laugh but you know better, the woman who beat submission into your head was right here. You just look down, nodding.

“He always is.”

“So you need to get his attention,” you sigh, wanting to explain how hard you tried, even in lieu of him fucking that secretary in front of you, but you merely nod once more. “Get yourself together, you look like you haven’t slept in a week, your hair is oily even. What’s wrong with you!?”

What’s wrong with you?

You peer over to your tall, white haired husband surrounded by women in the ridiculously extravagant event, glamorously dressed when you chose a thin silk number, not caring anymore. You didn’t do your makeup, what did that matter? It’s not as if he’d ever look at you anyway.

“You’ll make him look bad, make us all look bad, you must gather yourself together and try more. Have I not raised you to be the perfect wife?”

The perfect wife.

To a husband who hates you.

“You did indeed Mother,” you manage to say, clearing your throat that night, feeling the eyes of so many curiously flit between you both. “I shall try not to disappoint you and father.”

Yet you are done trying, as he asked you to be, walking up the stairs now with him slowly trailing behind, as if to make sure there was enough space between the both of you.

Try a gym!

Or a spa day?

You need self care babe!

Yeah, your friends advice about self care was not enough for what you’re going through, but they ring in your head, as you head to your room, and reach around to try to unzip your dress. You curse, moving your hand in every which way, you then try to tug it up off you, but it’s half stuck with the tight material.

Fuck, you’re gonna have to ask him.

“Gojo…” You say, standing by his door, he’s up typing away on the laptop, shirtless, his body cut and chisled, muscles moving as he sits up straighter, eyeing you carefully.

“You, coming to my room?” You flush furiously, looking down.

“Don’t worry, I’ll never, ever ask to be intimate again,” you whisper, the pain still piercing your heart, your soul. He just looks down. “I just really can’t get out of this dress, and I swear to god it’s not a hit on or seduction.”

“Ah,” he doesn’t gloat like usual, standing up now, his sweats falling down his hips, you wish he didn’t look so good like that, coming up to you carefully, everything flexing as he walks. “Zipper stuck?”

“I think so, and it won’t go up over my damn hips,” you grumble, when he comes closer. “I’m sorry.”

“You apologize constantly,” you just nod again. “Turn around.”

You do that, lifting your hair off the nape of your neck for him, two of his fingers grasp the metal zipper, slipping it down achingly slow, the noise loud in his quiet room, mixing with his own catch of breath. It’s quiet, a few tendrils falling against the nape of your neck, as the zipper jams just a bit, stuck in the middle.

“Hang on…” He mumbles, clearly irritated, holding the dress tight together and then grasping it, jerking you just a bit as he finally gets it down. “There.”

“Thank you, Gojo,” you say softly, as he looks at the smooth expanse of your back, and for a moment neither of you move, you turn to face him, still holding your hair up. “I didn’t mean to bug you.”

He doesn’t say anything, knuckles brushing down your spine lightly, enough to make you ache in your core, something you’ve never really felt before this moment. You swallow nervously, blushing and looking away, you can’t make a fucking fool out of yourself again.

You will not push something he clearly doesn’t want, it’s just not right – even in the name of ‘marriage’ it should be Satoru’s choice too, and he so clearly would never choose you, in any world. You turn now, straps slipping down your shoulders, his bright blue eyes get dark and lidded when his gaze hits your tits, the tops of them showcased with the little dress half off.

“I’ll let you um… sleep.” You say, he just blinks a moment, clearing his throat now.

“Yeah.”

You slowly walk out, wondering if it is just you looking for something, anything, the way you damn near begged him to notice you, to want you, it was as he said – pathetic. Even knowing he’s fucking women actively, that he doesn’t have the time of day for you at all, you still crave it, you still don’t retaliate.

His phone rings, and you hear him murmuring while you’re in the hallway – 

Hey sweets, hmm… I bet you do miss me.

You feel your feet get heavy, you’ve been barely eating because you’re just fucking miserable, but hearing that as his door shuts and you walk to your lonely room sinks in. The miserable realization that he doesn’t care about you, that even if he gave you a glance, it was nothing, you were nothing to him.

You slip that dress off when you’re in your bedroom, looking at yourself in the mirror, even just his proximity always put a blush to your cheeks, as if your body was betraying your mind. You remember what your friends told you the other day, their concerned gazes, and the way they tried to be supportive when they barely know the half of what you endure.

Having to hear your husband jerking it on the phone and talking another girl through it when he has never touched you?

You are tired of crying, so tired.

You look up gyms in the area, sure that’s not really going to help a damn thing, but it might be enough to keep you busy, considering you can’t even work as a Gojo wife, and you’re left alone too often in the quiet, thinking too much. You pick one and map it, while laying in your bed and snuggling, yawning a bit as sleep starts to drag you under.

“All right, let’s see if self care will help me at all,” you say to yourself quietly, drifting off into a dreamless sleep, as you have been.

What’s there to dream about anymore?

*****

Sukuna

His knuckles are aching from hitting the big heavy black bag, punching it over and over, his class is done but Sukuna always loves to blow some steam off, and the best way is to beat the bag to a pulp. His ruby eyes are locked on the target, exhaling and controlling his breathing.

One, two.

One, two, punch.

Cross, jab, hook.

It’s methodical, it’s easy, even as his muscles ache – that ache is sweet, it’s so perfect to feel, he grins as he imagines beating the fuck out of so many people then. Start with his shit father – his mother gets a pass only due to being a woman – and then, all the little pretentious shits he went to college with.

Sukuna was supposed to be training to become a CEO, to take over his father’s position, and be a nepo baby like the rest of those damn men he partied with at the frat in college. Yet, he never, ever wanted that, and he built something for himself – several gyms, he’s trained pro boxers, national champions.

This was what Sukuna wanted to do.

Mostly, he loved to box, he cared just a little bit enough not to join those matches himself – oh, what would that look like!? The Sukuna heir going into a boxing ring!? Yet, at the same time, he had dreams of it. Of being in a ring and knocking everyone out, pushing that ‘family disappointment’ name even further.

For now, however, there is peace in the quiet gym.

That is, until you walk in.

Tired and fucking beautiful, these dark circles that sit under your eyes, a shy little nervous smile, about five minutes before he closes. You stand at the door and look around, frowning then and staring at your phone, wearing some pretty little yoga outfit and a big sweater, like you were getting ready for pilates rather than kickboxing.

“I’m sorry, first off for coming so late, second… ugh I thought you were a regular gym! Where is my brain…” You smack your forehead, turning, when he literally runs up to you, stopping you before fully thinking of it.

Sukuna, running.

You really are that pretty, when he sees a giant rock on your finger he curses internally, sighing.

“I do other things here, a whole room of workout machinery,” he says then, his voice just a little gruff, when you turn and look up at him, so shy, you look right back down at your feet, hugging yourself a bit. “I can show you, just need to lock up.”

“You probably want to get home, god I’m sorry, I slept all day like a miserable… oh… so sorry.” You have said sorry again, rambling now, making Sukuna wonder.

Just who has you this down? This shy? This clearly hurt?

“I meant to come earlier,” you blink back tears, looking up again with them swimming in your pretty eyes, so pretty he can’t decide what color they are, but the way they look at him almost takes him out. “I set an alarm, and promised I would make myself do something, then I just… hit it over and over. And now I’m rambling.”

“And crying,” he smirks a bit, swiping off a tear. “Rambling, crying, coming in late too, huh?”

“I know I’m so-”

“I’m teasing,” he chuckles softly, shaking his head and tilting your chin up. “If you want to do any sport, you need eye contact. Even when they’re all red and bloodshot.”

“Well your eyes are red too! I mean, oh my god!?” You cover your mouth, he laughs again softer this time. “I’m sorry, I like their color, they’re beautiful. Not to say I am hitting on you! Oh dear god…”

“Will you take a breath?” You shut your eyes, nodding. “A deep one, in… there you go, and out.”

Your breasts rise and fall, the sweater slipping further off a shoulder, as he takes in the mess that’s come to his doorstep – a beautiful, tragically broken mess that does something he can’t explain. When you swipe your cheeks and try to give a tremulous smile, you break whatever heart Sukuna has in his chest.

Who fucking hurt you like this?

Damage recognizes damage, but this…

“Don’t apologize a fourth time, yeah?” You nod then, sniffling a bit and attempting a better smile.

“I really just want to… apparently I need self care, my friends say, and I thought a gym might… help. But I can’t box, or kickbox.”

“Why not? You've got a lot of pent up tension," his hands brush down your shoulders softly, feeling the tenseness. "Bet you’d kill it."

"Me!?" You giggled nervously but he was serious, a huge handsome man crossing his arms and raising a brow, leaned back a bit in the quietness of his gym. "Kickboxing, huh?"

"Think you can't?"

You shake your head, and he sees it all over your face –

You don’t think you can do anything.

“Why not? Husband wants you all girlie or something?” He addresses the ring with a glance, you laugh without humor, your face darkening then.

“He doesn’t give a shit what I do, no, we’re not,” you trail off, shaking your head. “I dumped enough trauma on you just walking in here. What’s your name?”

“Sukuna,” he takes your hand, feeling yours just a little sweaty in his grip. “What do you mean doesn’t give a shit?”

“He doesn’t like me.” He blinks at that. 

“Trouble in paradise?”

You laugh again, shaking your head. “Let’s say he’s done more with his secretary than me so far,” Sukuna frowns at that, raising a dark brow. “It’s okay, really don’t feel bad for me. I just need something to get my mind off it.”

Who the fuck wouldn’t want you?

He almost says it, but he holds back, nudging his head now. “Lemme show you around the gym.”

He locks the door behind you so no random people try to come after hours, and you follow him through, looking up at the ceiling – it’s high, wooden beams running across it, it was once an old factory before Sukuna bought it off the guy. The walls are all red and orange brick, some of it is painted white, with graffiti art.

“That’s so cool,” you murmur, walking up to it then, touching it gently. “What is all of this?”

“Some of the guys like to come tag it,” he says, there are all sorts of images scrawled, along with Sukuna’s name in big red letters, little demon horns over the U. “I think they’re callin’ me the devil.”

“No!” You laugh, the sound so foreign to your own ears, he can just tell when you sober up a bit, smiling gently now. “You, the devil?”

“Mmm, you don’t know shit about me yet,” you blush a bit at the insinuation. “You’d run out if you knew what I was thinking.”

“You don’t have to be so… nice to me, okay? Because you feel bad.”

Sukuna blinks his pink lashes. “Huh?”

“I can tell, you’re a really good person,” you walk up to him, touching his hand now, sucking in a breath at the contact, fingers tracing his calloused, beat up knuckles. “Thank you though.”

“You think I’m pretending to find you attractive?” He almost can’t take you serious, but your face says it all. “Yeah, no, I’m not that nice. Now follow me before I say something real fucking dumb.”

You’re a flustered mess, letting your hand fall and nodding.

“This is where you’d like to be,” he mentions, toward the room with all of the normal equipment – treadmills, ellipticals, rowing machines, all sleek and black. “So you can just do your normal little workouts. Yoga mats and all.”

“Oh! I see,” you’re just a step behind him, he can inhale that perfume, he doesn’t know what scent it is but it’s driving him insane, when he stops and you bump into him. “Ah!”

He catches you quickly, frowning a bit at how weak you seem, assessing you. “You eat anything today?”

You blink a bit.

How'd he notice?

“No.”

“It’s six?”

“Yeah, not for a couple days,” you mumble. Sukuna glares at you, far, far too attractive and you’re not even fucking eating.

“If you have some… problem, you gotta tell me if I’m gonna train you, yeah?”

“No, nothing like that, just can’t eat when I’m sad,” your words are soft, barely over a whisper, running your fingers along the arm of a treadmill. “It’s been a few days I guess.”

“A few days, the fuck?” What sort of husband lets his wife just not eat?

He supposes the kind that makes her an unconfident, sad girl that cries the moment she enters a gym. Sukuna knows damn well he shouldn’t get involved in the shit, but just looking at you hurts him, in a way he’s not sure he’s felt, recognizing a version of himself so long ago, when he was young, when he wanted that approval, when he craved it so badly.

But more than that.

“If you don’t eat tomorrow I’ll be shoving food in your mouth,” you laugh at that, covering your mouth again. “I’m serious, the fuck you mean days?”

“I will make myself eat before I come.”

“And you’ll come at a decent time, yeah? Not before I close. Do I need to set three alarms to get your bratty ass up?”

“Bratty!?” you laugh again, shaking your head, the sight so fucking cute it destroys him.

God he’d drop to his knees just to kiss up those thighs, fucking lick you right over those leggings, the ones just a little snug against your puffy lips. And he can tell when you’re close how excited you are, the way your pupils blow out, the way you bite down on that lower lip, the one already chapped from likely biting it to death.

“No one has ever called me bratty,” you muse softly. “The opposite, actually.”

“Well maybe they don’t see it buried all in there, under a cute little fucking yoga outfit,” he brushes your hair back. His mistake, his undoing, and not kissing you is maybe the hardest thing he’s done.

You’re married.

He’s trying to give a fuck about that.

“C’mon brat,” you giggle again. “Here is the ring.”

You pause, looking at the huge rectangular boxing ring, surrounded by mats, boxing bags hanging heavy and worn all over, red and black ropes surrounding it. “Is this where you all practice?”

“Mhm,” he leads you over to a bag, touching it, old and black and hanging, one of his big hands touching it now. “Tomorrow you’ll punch it, today you didn’t eat so you don’t get to.”

“Mean,” your lips twitch though, the color to your face just brighter, your eyes glittering. Fuck you’re pretty sad, and happy, he can only imagine more. “All right, I promise, full breakfast.”

“Eat some dinner, too, then I’ll let you kick it.”

“The bag?”

“No, me.”

“What!?” You laugh again, Sukuna snorts and rolls his ruby red eyes, those pink lashes fluttering. “You’re joking, oh!”

“Yeah, a joke,” he tugs on that pony tail your hair is thrown in. “Two pm, don’t be late.”

When you’re gone he’s locking up, watching you slip into some bmw, waving a bit before you back up, wondering what’s this feeling in his heart, in his gut.

Sukuna loves women, he loves being inside them, pleasuring them, but he’s never just enjoyed making someone smile that much. Knowing you’re married should be a hell of a deterrent, whether he’s clearly a dick or not, Sukuna can’t just swoop in and be with married women.

Right?

Yet when he’s in bed that night, he finds himself throbbing, thinking of seeing your pretty face in pleasure. And he knows damn well whatever ‘morals’ he should have about it aren’t going to help him not make you feel good, in just any fucking way you need him to.

*****

You

“Never seen you eat so much,” Satoru murmurs when he walks in, lipstick across his neck, you’re downing some soup, realizing just how starved you were. “Have the chefs make something.”

“I just haven’t eaten in a week,” you say softly, Satoru’s eyes widen, then narrow a bit, while you dab at your mouth with a napkin. “I guess I’m hungry.”

“A week? What nothing here good, they can order anything.”

“I was too depressed,” the honesty is something you’d usually hold in, but something about meeting Sukuna today…

Everything about him.

The way he looked at you, that smirk was teasing, not cruel – he listened to you, he seemed to care, him a stranger. You know it’s nonsense, a man trying to be kind to a crying woman, but it meant a lot, even if that’s all it was. You’d walked in with a smile you haven’t had since you married him.

Satoru Gojo.

“A week? You can die from that shit,” he glares now, and you laugh, but this time it’s a mean little sound. “You think you can’t?”

“Sure, but what would you care?” You take a sip of the wine you’d poured, Satoru’s finest vintage, letting it dance along your tongue. “Wouldn’t it make your life easier if I did?”

His lips part, brows drawing together. “I don’t want you to fucking die, okay? Fuck.”

“You wouldn’t care,” you swirl the wine around, leaning back in the seat, eyes locked with the man you’ve tried so hard to make like you. To just come near you, to give you a chance. “I’m nothing to you.”

He says nothing in the quiet of the dining room.

“You didn’t notice.”

“Well, no I don’t eye your every move, figured you eat before I get home or some shit,” he runs a hand through his silky white locks, eyeing you carefully. “Do you want them to order something specific? Just because me and you will never be anything, doesn’t mean I want you to starve in my fucking house.”

“Nah, I like everything they have here,” you finish the wine in a gulp, an unladylike one that makes Satoru raise his brows, standing then, sighing. “It’s hard to eat when you can’t stop crying, when you constantly feel sick to your stomach knowing the man you live with hates your existence.”

You walk up and he says your name, you pause and look back at him. “I never said don’t eat, yeah?”

“No, you didn’t. But her lipstick is all over your neck, and up on that collar,” he touches it then, looking at the crimson on his pale fingertips. You step up to him, so close you inhale that scent. “Can you buy your sluts some decent fucking perfume, aren’t you rich?”

“What the fuck!?” You smile, you’ve never cussed, but it feels amazing in that moment, seeing him sputter. “What are you going on about, and what’s got your ass so fucking peppy?”

“Their knock off perfume, it’s all over you, every night. Buy them some Chanel or something, yeah? Not like you have to buy me anything, I have my own money. The scent makes me nauseous,” you turn again, Satoru grips your wrist, making you pause for just a moment, shutting your eyes.

Nothing, he feels nothing.

“Thought you didn’t cuss?”

“You don’t know me and you don’t want to.”

He lets you go, no argument, just quiet.

“I’m starting training at the gym,” you mention quietly. “I’ll be going there tomorrow.”

“Some yoga class?”

“Boxing.”

Satoru blinks, you just smile, tugging your wrist out of his grip. “You? Boxing?”

“Mhm, good night Gojo.”

You head up the stairs to your room, falling back on the bed, shutting your eyes, feeling good for the first time since that engagement party, for the first time in months there was something brimming under the surface. Some sort of hope.

Tonight you don’t hear him moaning, or talking to his girls, it’s quiet, and you’re thankful, shutting your eyes and falling into a deep sleep.

You’re haunted by two sets of eyes, two sets of hands, blue ones that are glaring, red ones that are hungry, long thin fingers choking your neck, suffocating you, thick ones painted black freeing you. Torn between them, claustrophobic in the darkness, where all you can see are their eyes. 

You wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, holding your racing heart, thrumming against your palm, before you fall back asleep, and there is only one pair of eyes.

And they’re red.

Tysm AGAIN for 30k my loves <3 this will be a doozy

Patreon for more exclusive fics - Kofi link if you wanna buy me a glass🍷

[slvttyplum]

oct. 31. corruption, begging, degradation: gojo  my man my man my man my baby my baby. happy halloween folks (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

the best thing you’ve done is marry that loser in your chemistry class a few years ago; he’s hot and does everything for you, never letting you lift a finger. 

satoru loves your rough mouth, how mean you get when he does something wrong, and how you can handle him and no one else can.

the first time the two of you actually did something, you had him begging for at least an hour to even touch you, knowing how bad he wanted you. 

it was at his apartment, junior year of college, and he was such a freak, but it was cute, his looks the only thing saving him at that point. 

“so you’re telling me you’ve never had sex?”

laughing while stripping down to only your panties and throwing on one of his shirts, a little too snug, making him stare. 

“um, hello? you’ve never fucked?”

satoru was too embarrassed to answer and didn’t want to ruin his chances of actually fucking you if given the chance. 

“no, nope, nope, nope, never.” 

his voice was a little cracky, and he was still staring at your breasts outlining his shirt, his mouth going dry, wanting to feel.”

“i’m not surprised. how about jerking off?”

the only thing he could think of was, "yeah, i have to pictures of you from your instagram."

“yeah, mhm, w…why?”

you laugh, getting a little closer to him, batting your eyelashes, your hand dragging up his jeans, seeing his dick slowly growing in his jeans, leaning in closer.

“do it for me then. i know you do it all the time, thinking about me like some freak.” 

leaning in more and just deciding to straddle his lap, softly kissing his jaw, making him tense up. 

god, he wanted it so bad he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“do it, satoru, please, for me? or is your dick so tiny you don’t want to show me?”

he sighs to himself; your thighs are warm against him—he can feel it through his jeans.

he swallows, finally unbuttoning his jeans, shimmying a little to pull them down under your weight.

“you’re actually doing it.” laughing so hard your head falls on his shoulder. 

your warm breath hitting his neck only made him want to do it more. 

then he did. his hands wrapped around his dick, and you leaned back watching him with a dirty smirk on your face, laughing at him. 

“god, you’re such a loser; it’s so cute.” 

his hand tightens around his dick, and his other hand comes up to rest on your hip, but you slap it away. 

“don’t fucking touch; just keep going. you can touch me when you cum.”

satoru's eyes squeeze shut, and his breath hitches; he wants to touch you so bad.

“please, can i please touch only your hip?” you only glare, then go back to looking at him stroking his dick. 

his movements are sloppy, but it was hotter like that—the fact he’s so inexperienced in, well… everything.

whimpering and squirming a little under you the closer he felt he was to cumming, and you laughed again, kissing his jaw.

those whimpers, so soft and desperate. 

making you want to bully him more, push him to the edge. 

“want me to do it for you? a minute max, you just have to beg.” 

his eyes widen with want; that’s exactly what he wants, and he’s never above begging. 

“please, ill do anything. all i want is you. you’re so fucking beautiful; i’ll cherish your—”

cutting him off, putting your hand over his mouth, laughing, slapping his hand off his dick, and replacing it with your squeezing it, making him flinch, his eyes watering.

“how pathetic, you’re too cute.”

stroking painfully slow, his warm breath hitting your palm in short bursts. 

“poor thing, you’re about to cum, huh?”

pushing your palm harder on his hand and stroking faster, making his thighs tense and his chest rise and fall quickly, almost hyperventilating. 

spitting on his dick, the warm sensation sending tingles throughout his body, he can’t hold back anymore. 

warmth hitting all over your hand, his cum spilling over, and you laugh more, pulling your hand away, wiping it over his cheek, and moving your palm from his mouth. 

“i'm going to fucking marry you.”

your voice is rough with need as you attack him with sloppy kisses. 

to this day, he cherishes that night.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

🏷 list: @heliumshorns, @suguruuslut, @recispeices, @shokoshoe, @purpleheart835, @mattibuttface, @loudshortbookworm, @aporeudite, @kentosillygirl, @kgymya, @minzxec, @acrazybiotch374, @nnnomii, @truivne, @hopelissromantiq, @alinacoke, @tojiswifeforlife, @noyaswrld, @babybiird, @reiinsy, @ellayahhs, @whatever-the-fuck-i-dont-care, @verelace, @fanficlyssa, @ellayahhs, @kllrbunny, @nanamisbbygirl, @liafics, @yuppie2002, @siennayaps, @overrlygoinn, @whorishminds, @anunfortunateoutcome, @luvvmae, @mahalsuya .

[slvttyplum]

yes i did this concept before, its just so sukuna. 

"1...2... sukuna's coming for you.''

sukuna loves a chase and fuck situation, timing himself to see how long it took him to chase you down and fuck you. 

he likes to do it in the woods, especially when it is dark, pitch black.

makes it riskier, harder on you. 

you couldn’t see, didn’t know your way around, and there were too many trees to dodge.

perfect for him to fuck you against. 

he gave you head starts, never more than a minute; he didn’t want your eyes adjusting to the dark.

“go and make it an actual challenge this time.” 

no matter how much you tried or how fast you ran, he always caught you. 

even taking it as far as making you run barefoot, he stripped you of all advantages; he needed you scared.

he wanted to make you feel the terror run through your bones. 

branches cracked beneath your feet. leaves brushing against your face and arms despite your pathetic attempts to dodge them. 

you could barely breathe, your speed faltered, making it easier for him to get you. 

there’s was no destination; not really.

you didn’t know where the woods ended. all that was on your mind when you ran was to keep running.

giving sukuna what he wanted, which was a challenge.

he was fast, and it was terrifying.

the second you looked back to see if he was catching up, if he was on your ass, he would go even faster to taunt you. 

he was never too far behind.

never knowing when he was about to grab you by the neck and pin you against the tree or throw you on the ground.

all of it shot adrenaline straight to your core, making you wetter by the second.

sometimes it turned into a game of hide-and-seek, sukuna purposely slowing down just to see you sprint faster.

trying to feel your way around trees and hide so he could drag you out from your hiding spot and fuck you.

it was exhilarating, terrifying, that’s why you always said yes to it.

once he got you on the ground, he stripped you bare, fucking you against the leaves and branches that scraped against your soft skin.

roughly tearing off your soaked panties and throwing them elsewhere, dragging his thick finger against your dripping pussy. 

big rough hands roaming over your body; even in the dark, he knew you like a map he memorized. 

[kamitv]

★ Tattooing Sukuna’s thighs but he has a major pain kink he can barely control & a bit of a crush on you. (inspired by this post)

Sukuna can't help but get hard the moment you start working. You're the same woman that did the markings on his back, arms, face, chest, shoulders, wrists-, everywhere, and now it was time to do the same thing on his thighs.

Except, unlike the other areas you've tatted, the position in which you have to ink him is rather suggestive. It was one thing when you did his chest and those markings that trail down his abdomen, he'd already struggled not to think about how close you were to what would soon be a problem...

Now you were doing his thighs. He was okay for the most part while you worked the tattoo-gun over the outsides out his legs but the moment you asked him to manspread wide enough so that you had room to work on the inner side? Oh, he was fucked.

Your gloved hands went to his inner knees to help guide those muscular legs of his farther open so that you could work comfortably, and Sukuna really should've known he wouldn't last too long. The moment you brought the tip of the tool to his skin, off first contact with his inner thigh—your face so close to his skin he could feel your softened breaths—his head flew back.

Thank fuck you're a professional and don't seem to notice it at first but, his hips are immediately shifting against his seat while you're working ever so casually. The gun stabbing into his inner thigh over and over and over again with those tiny needles was so painful and yet... the thick tip of his cock is poking up against his bundled black shorts, quickly soaking through the fabric enough to be noticeable.

"Ohh, fuck. Just like that..." He groans all of a sudden, the sound rather sensual and making your ears perk up.

You chuckle at his suggestive words but pay no mind to it, eyes still fixated on the gun in your hands, "Sukuna, can you please stop groaning like that. It's kinda distracting." You scold harmlessly.

His voice is a bit deeper and huskier than you know it to be, "But it feels so fucking good."

Sukuna’s heavy arm drapes over his mouth to conceal the moan that threatens to escape him and alert you of his aroused state. He hopes you think all his shifting and bratty huffing is from the pain and not the fact that he's so ridiculously turned on right now.

"Someone could walk in and think I'm in here giving you a blowjob or something,” You snort before lifting the machinery away from his skin for a moment to check your work, "Should've warned me about your pain kink before setting up this appointment with me."

Sukuna moves his arm and smirks down at you, hand snaking down to his crotch just to cup his current issue in hopes of hiding it from you. The pain felt way too good this session.

Then your gun dives into a specific bundle of nerves that cause a moan to finally leave him. You weren't new to this line of work, you were used to some of your clients having that kind of reaction but... Sukuna had never been the vocal type, especially when he breathes out a whorish, "Ah, h-harder…”

The man just couldn't help himself.

Which is exactly why you stop for a second and look up at him, trying to see if you really heard what the hell you just heard. Scoffing, "What?"

His adam's apple is bobbing in his throat and you could see how tense his jaw was from the pain, eyes hazy and glaring down on yours. You weren't gonna say anything else until you just so happen to drag your gaze downwards and-

Oh.

That plump outline of his hard cock was not hidden well under his big hand. He couldn’t hide that thing no matter how hard he tried. Well, that and the way he was literally palming his shaft to provide himself some sort of relief like you weren’t sitting a few centimeters away.

As if this was supposed to be normal, he merely cocks his chin at you and where you’ve got your tool pointing, grunting, "Right there, press-,” The tattoo-gun sinks into his skin before he gets to finish and you watch his cheeks flush with red and his lashes flutter in pleasure, “Fuck, harder..."

Now, this is not how you normally handle these kinds of situations but then again, not many of your clients sit here and talk you through the tattooing process all sexually like he was currently. So, you press the needle into him with a little more pressure, not enough to cause significant damage or anything but, y’know, just to satisfy the guy a little. "Like that?" You chuckle, finding this whole thing funny above anything else.

Sukuna’s eyes widen before rolling back, hips bucking up into his palm as he throws his head back again and groans out, "I'm gonna cum.."

Caught off guard by the fact that he’s being so deadass right now, you blink. "Sukuna, what?" He angles his head to look down at you again and his mind blanks.

You’ve pulled your tool away from his leg and you’re fully facing him now, sitting one head-pull away from his aching cock and… looking down at it. Jaw slacking and hand tensing around his bulging erection, "S-Shiiit..." He nearly whines, trying to squeeze his dick a bit tighter to stop himself from cumming. There’s no way he was about to blow his load just from one measly look from you-

"Are you serious right now?" You scoff, annoyance coating your tone in a way that has his cockhead drooling even more.

Sukuna chuckles, "Uhuh, keep lookin at me like that,” He says boldly before fully stroking his length through the slicked of his shorts, “M’almost there..."

"Gross.." You say harmlessly before you place your gun down and then push up on your knees. His brows furrow as he watched the way you force his hand out of the way to replace with your own, gorgeous fingers wrapping around the bobbing outline of his cock.

He sits straight up and moans way too loudly for his own liking. "Fuck, wait-, I’m—“

He doesn’t even get to finish before you feel him twitching profusely underneath your palm, having hardly been touched. You giggle and then lift your hand to watch the wet spot on his shorts spread—indicating that he just came from a single touch.

To which you snicker, “Yikesss, that’s embarrassing. Only took one touch to get you there?”

Sweating slightly and gulping down a thick swallow of nerves, “What are you talking about?” He asks with this blank stare like he didn’t just blow his load against your palm and wasn’t currently panting from his recent orgasm.

You cock a brow and then cross your arms, “Did you not just cum in my hand?”

Sukuna looks left, then right, then back at you before lifting his shoulders to shrug, “…No?”

“Then—“

He suddenly nods down at you and then hums, “Look down ‘n pay attention, brat. M’still hard.”

You follow his little order and look down to see that his dick is definitely still curving up all needily against his clothing. Face twisting up with confusion—as if that was supposed to prove his point or something, “That doesn’t mean you didn’t just cum from one touch like some loser.” You argue.

“Well, if you have such a problem with it, put that mouth on my cock next time so I don’t make the same mistake.” He suggests way too casually for your liking.

“Y’know what, fine,” You accept, hands moving to peel those shorts of his down in an unprofessional manner—though, that line had been crossed a while ago. His cock comes springing free with a meaty thud against his lower abdomen, completely smothered in his release, and earning a widening of your eyes. Then you take his shaft into your hand, thumb flicking under one of his throbbing veins as you whisper, “And if you last longer than five minutes, I’ll give you a discount for the tatt’.”

Sukuna rolls his eyes, hand quickly and naturally moving to weave through your hair and urge you on, “That’s all I get? A little discount?”

You smile knowingly and your lips decorate his blushing tip of creamy cum with soft taps, “You’re cute but,” Your tongue swipes out to taste the mess coating your lips now, “If you want anything free, you gotta make me cum too.”

As if you’d just uttered some kinda magical words, Sukuna’s thighs spread impossibly wider as he slumps further back and rolls his hips upward, “Yeah? Well, get up here and use this cock until you're a mess too if that’s the case."

Gulp.

A/N: not proofread. thank you @crude-saint for thrusting sum inspo into me, this was for u bby. & I’m just gonna tag sum people who showed sum interest in the idea; @blkkizzat @cupidstrace @storiesbyparadise

[strawxbunny]

sleepy girls need their panties pulled to the side when they’re half awake and confused

[reignpage]

OLD ENOUGH

In which you flirt with dilf!jjk men in a bar and they ask for your age (younger reader)

Satoru

“Damn!” He says, wide eyed and disbelieving. Spotting the embarrassed or deadpan look on your face, he quickly apologises. “Sorry, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to be so young.”

You raise a brow. “So you’re saying I look old.”

“Yeah.” Satoru nods, with a child-like gusto unbefitting his age. And when you get up to go, he hurriedly clutches your wrist, pink tinting his cheeks. “Sorry. That’s not what I meant. You just look more mature for your age, which now I say that, I realise that totally sounds super creepy. Sorry. Again. Let me buy you a drink and we can get to know each other more?”

“I don’t know…can you handle me, Satoru?”

He grins, feeling something well up in him, and not just his cock. “Don’t you worry about that. I know just how to handle a gorgeous girl like you."

Suguru

He whistles, barely audible under the buzz of the bar. His gentle smile softens his face, ever so slightly marred with age, grey streaks through his hair and crinkles at the corner of his eyes. “Are you even old enough to drink, pretty girl?”

You scoff. “Yeah, of course.”

Tracing a finger around the rim of his drink, he eyes you. “And are you old enough to be flaunting your cleavage around a man my age?”

“I’m not flaunting anything, mister. You’re just looking.”

“You got me there.” Suguru chuckles, doing nothing to hide the way his gaze skims down your body and up your skirt. “If you’d let me, I’d be honoured to look some more.”

Choso

“You’re the same age as Yuji!” His smile is bright, a sharp contrast to his dark clothes and tattoos. Despite the greys in his hair, he maintains a youthful glee in his expressions. He doesn’t hold back, doesn’t let etiquette get in the way of expressing himself. Not even when the realisation sinks in and his smile drops. “Oh…you’re probably better off with him, actually.”

You shrug. “I don’t want Yuji. I want you.”

Choso gulps, overwhelmed with the sight of your tight dress and tighter body. Even the very scent of you, sweet and ripe, has his mouthwatering in a way he knows it shouldn’t. “Are you sure? I won’t be able to…um…keep up with you.”

His lashes flutter close when you run a nail down his pale cheek. “Don’t you worry about that. Just leave it all up to me.”

Toji

“Two thousand and?” He huffs, disbelief and amazement blending together. “Jesus. Didn’t even know people could be born after the 90s. Fuck. You’re legal though, right? You’re in your twenties?”

You nod, nails tapping on the glass of your beer bottle nervously. “Yeah.”

“You’re not gonna cling to me and think we’re gonna get married? And you’re not a virgin or sum shit?”

Heat rises to your cheeks and, defensively, you say, “No, of course not. I’m not some idiot. I know what I’m getting into.”

Taking a swig of his drink, he snorts. “Thank fuck. Alright, that’s enough for me. Where do you wanna do this? Backseat of my car? Alleyway? A motel?”

“Uh, can’t we go to your place?”

Toji fixes you a look then rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Come on then, kiddo.”

Kento

His brow rises. He checks his watch. “You’re too young for me, though I am flattered by your attention. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“I’m not too young.” You grab his arm, fighting the urge to cower from his cold gaze. The flirtatious smiles he had given you, the heated looks, are all gone. Before, he looked like a daddy. Now, he looks like your father. “I’m an adult.”

Nanami shakes his head. “That may be so, but you’re far too young to have any kind of relationship with a man like me. Trust me, it’s for your own good.”

“Listen, Kento,” you begin, “I’m going to lose my virginity tonight, whether it's with you or not. But I really hope it's with you. Don’t you want to make sure I’m taken care of? That I’m given the attention and gentleness I deserve? What if someone takes advantage of–”

“Enough.”

You slump on his arm in defeat, cheek nuzzling the fabric of his blazer and feeling thoroughly told off. He was the perfect guy — tall, handsome, and a gentleman. Who else could be better?

Chin pinched and head tilted back, he forces you to look up at him. There’s tension in his face, like his morality is fighting with his rationality. His words come out gritted and scolding. “For your first time, I will be gentle, I will be patient and kind, but after that, I will have expected you to learn how to behave, to know what pleases me. Do not disappoint me.”

Sukuna

He scoffs. “You’re a fucking baby. What the hell are you doing walking around here flaunting your ass?”

“I’m not a baby. I’m grown. I can do what I want. Are you fucking me or not?”

Even from afar, you could tell he was a dangerous sort. Something about how he sat, thick legs spread with no shame, in the back corner, how people steered clear of him and he did nothing but watch. Despite that, you were drawn to his maturity, the way his hands didn’t shake as he gulped down his scotch or whatever he was drinking, and how he held your gaze as you approached. He wasn’t like the bumbling boys or leering old geezers. He was a man. A scary but hot as hell man. 

Sukuna runs his eyes down your body, assessing, judging, tasting. When they come back up again, meeting yours, the corners of his lips tilts up. “Yeah. I can have some fun with you.”

You smile with relief. 

“But if you start cuddling me after, I’m throwing you out naked and shivering. Got it, brat?”

You stop smiling.

[reignpage]

In which Horny boyfriend!Choso is so overstimulated and fucked out that he gets a nose bleed?! *Not clickbait*

He’s wanted this so long, so fucking long. Craved it. Needed it — to have your searing, soft walls wrapped around him, constricting and sucking him in, in punishing bliss. All day long, he’d been thinking about you, dozing off in meetings, eyes bored, glazed over, and fingers drumming as he counted down the seconds impatiently.

Torture…every minute without you was downright torture. 

And the hours?

Each an eternity.

But now...now he finally has you in his grasp, calloused fingers digging into the plush of your ass like you might slip away from him. He's going to pass out. 

Reality always — always — trumps his imagination. In a way, it’s a shame really. Maybe if his feeble, cursed brain could accurately retain his brush with heaven, his touch of euphoria, and his unlasting meeting with divinity, then he wouldn’t be ramming his throbbing cock inside your poor, bruised cunt with little care for the fact that you’ve long passed your limit. 

“C-choso, baby, enough,” you stammer out, voice hoarse and throat dry. Body slipping and sliding on your drenched sheets, you can only hold onto the headboard as he pounds inside you from behind, a dirty mix of your juices dribbling out with every thrust, rendering the insides of your thighs slick. “We’ve -hic!- been at it for -hah fuuuuck- h-hours. It’s enough.”

Dizzy, he barely has enough consciousness to reply, feeling as if he’s a puppet on a string with a cruel, sadistic master pulling at his limbs and hips, intent on wringing himself dry with your limp body, “No. 's not enough. N-never enough," he grunts out. “More. I want more.”

In a few hours, the sun will rise and you'll leave him for work. And then he'll be lonely again. Cold and abandoned. He wouldn't survive. Couldn't. He needs to make each thrust, each orgasm, each gasp of your name count. It's all that he has left in this world. It's your fault anyway — you drive him to the ends of his wit and render him fuelled only by thoughts of you...you...you......you......

Drip. 

Drip.

Something hot falls onto the swell of your ass. It sobers you up a little. “What —fuck, Choso, slow ngh! d-down– what is that?”

With sweaty, sticky fingers, he feels for whatever is dripping out of his nose. He blinks rapidly. "Oh. My nose is bleeding.” Despite his discovery, he doesn't stop, hips unrelenting, cock far too numb from the constant friction.

“WHAT?!”

Just as your scream leaves you, he flips you on your back, hair sticking to your skin and thick cock pushed back in, working through the pleats that squelch in gratitude for his return. You can see the crazed look in his eye, a deranged sort of glint; reason has since long left your boyfriend. In its place, only desire remains. Humid, obscene, downright vulgar desire.

His smile fills your vision. 

“Wanna taste?”

[reignpage]

In which Sukuna’s stomach mouth has a mind of its own ;)

At night, when the great malevolent King is fast asleep, you sometimes find yourself tossing and turning, unable to join him. And sometimes, his stomach mouth curls its lips up into sharp points, sensing your frustrations and offering a solution — put it to use.

Hissing to grab your attention, it pouts mockingly. “Can’t sleep, little pet? Is he not giving you the care that you need, poor thing? Wanna get revenge? Hmm? Wanna get your lick back? I can help,” it says in a singsongy tone.

Maybe you bite your lip, nodding, unable to help yourself, and maybe you straddle Sukuna’s hips, lifting your nightgown and pushing your panties to the side without reservation, already dripping with the anticipation.

“Thaaat’s it. Come closer,” it whispers, wet tongue already darting out and reaching for where you’re growing beyond sopping and dirty. When it makes contact, you both moan in unison. “Fuuuuck. So sweet. He doesn’t let me get a taste often enough, the heartless monster. But you’re nice, aren’t you? You don’t hold out on me, do you? No, of course not. Spread your pussy for me, angel. Good girl. Let me give some lovin’ to your pretty clit.”

Oh how you love when it reveals things the pink-haired grump would never say. Like, “I could drown in your taste, woman. The best elixir in the world. Fuck, give me more. I need more. Moremoremoremore—”

“The mean bastard never tell you he can and has cum from just the smell of you? Hmm? That he -yeah, you like when I roll your clit against my tongue?- that he dreams of this needy fucking pussy? Too damn bad for him; you’re mine tonight.”

And, of course, “Ride me, you worthless whore. Make a mess all over him, use me, show him what he’s missing out on. That’s it. Perfect. Just fucking perfect.”

You both keep it a secret from Sukuna; he never knows that his stomach’s tongue worms its way into your sloppy cunt without his knowledge, that it curls up against that gummy spot inside you jussssst right, and drunkenly drinks ups the cream you feed it, maybe even gratefully showers in your squirt, laughing maniacally, uncaring if the King of Curses will wake. You don’t confess that you bounce on his tongue as if it were his cocks, grinding down on it to rub your clit against its teeth, urging it deeper and deeper until you feel its long, strong tongue in your fucking lungs.

And you definitely never, ever, tell Sukuna that it kisses your forehead when you finally grow sleepy, nor that it whispers the perfect response to your ‘love ya’ that the grouch would never utter.

It’s just yours and its dirty secret.

[total-killer-brainrot]

Kyle was one of, if not the best man you had ever had in your bed. He was quite literally the perfect lover. Never stopped until you were drooling onto the pillow, lost in total bliss. So controlled, confident, patient. He would leave you gasping for mercy while also begging for more. Never too much or too little. Just perfect.

Of course, he was wonderful in other ways. An excellent cook. Gave massages that made your toes curl. Always attentive to your every need. You were so truly, deeply, undeniably in love.

Which of course meant you wanted to care about the things he cared about. The people. You had heard him talk about John Price plenty. He seemed to respect the man deeply. Nothing but admiration spilled from his lips. So you were thrilled when he finally invited you two for dinner. Kyle seemed hesitant, which you didn't understand. But eventually agreed to go.

Dinner was... odd. John was a fine enough chef. But the way he looked at you was uncomfortable. His gaze boring through your skin into your psyche. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but every time you noticed he was looking at you, you swore he was looking right at your tits.

And Kyle seemed to totally be ignoring you. All throughout dinner he only had eyes for John. Pure admiration in his gaze. You didn't feel jealous. You trusted him. But you had never seen him like this. It was weird. He was almost timid in front of John.

"So he fucks you good?"

You blink in surprise. Shocked out of your thoughts at his bluntness. But his expression was dead serious.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, he fucks you good?"

When you didn't answer he rolled his eyes, glancing at Kyle and nodding towards you. "Show me."

There was no room for argument. It was an order. Though you still tried. Opening your mouth to tell him off. But before you could get a word out Kyle's hands were on you. Lifting you into his lap right at the dinner table. You were too stunned to speak. And when you turned to see what the hell he was thinking the expression on his face made you pause.

He was so focused. Eyes glazed over. Following the command like a good little soldier. His hand slipping into you pants. Just like in the field he did what he had to do. Prove to his Captain he was good enough.

"Kyle... baby wait..."

He lifted you slightly, just enough to tug down your pants and unbuckle his own.

"Kyle!"

When you tried to squirm away from him, he just pressed you down against the dining table. Right in front of Price. Your face burned with embarrassment. Looking away when he slid down your panties.

You couldn't deny that this was turning you on. Especially when they could both hear how slick you were as Gaz slid the tip of his cock through your folds. Spreading your arousal over your cunt before sliding inside. Both of your matching groans filling the dining room.

This was different than it normally was. Kyle was nervous. His thrusts faltering every time you clenched. He didn't know where to put his hands. John's watchful eyes turning him into a mess. He was shaking almost as much as you were.

"That's the best you can do Garrick? Seriously?"

The whimper he let out was pathetic. He went faster. But it was still messy. Hitting you in all the wrong places when he normally knew you body so well. His own whines pitching up as he came. Both of your shocked that he finished so fast.

John tutted softly. Standing from his seat and nearing.

"Thought I taught you better."

You felt his hand run down your spine, tensing as he reached your ass.

"Watch and learn Sergeant."

[reignpage]

♣ In which you jerk off giant!Toji

“If you wish to live, you will do your best,” the voice booms. 

If anyone ever found out about this, you’d be the laughing stock of your entire academy; it’s a rookie mistake to try to go through Cursed Worm Mountain just to shave off a day in your travels. Trust you’ve learnt your lesson in patience and diligence after the infamous beast, Toji, had you in the literal palm of his hand, picking you up by your cape and dangling you perilously from metres above solid ground, scarred lips stretching.

The bastard gave you an ultimatum: please him or die under his foot.

And what were you to do but sacrifice some time, and dignity, in the secrecy of the forest?

“Yeah, yeah,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “Just hurry up.”

Lying on the grass, the earth creaking under his phenomenal weight and shaking the trees on his way, you’re left crawling on his huge thigh, balancing on the hard muscle, and forced to watch as his massive hand pull his loincloth to the side to reveal something you have only ever studied in class. 

Your jaw drops. It’s as everyone says; a giant’s penis is as proportional to his stature as any other limb, except…his is somehow even bigger. The thing bounces in the air, showing off long veins the thickness of your forearm, heavy balls that would probably weigh a ton and could easily suffocate you, and an intimidating cockhead already leaking pre-cum the will most definitely drown you if you’re not careful. 

A thumb smooshes your face – the gentleness in which he rubs the dirt sitting upon your skin doesn’t escape you, the way he expertly licked the huge digit before swiping. Toji must have seen the horror in your face. “I thought St. Eden students never shied away from anything…scared, small woman?”

“F-fuck off.”

His laughter sends a flock of birds flying away. You almost lose your footing on his shaking thigh. Salty and sticky, you blink through the sheen and grumble under your breath that you can do anything, that you’ve done worse, and nothing can break you. 

Certainly not a penis. 

You’re no virgin, and though this particular penis is taller than you are and belongs to a smirking, perverted giant, you know a man is a man, no matter the size.

Leaping onto his balls, you wrap your arms around his girth for balance. He grunts, the filled up sacks under you tremoring. With a hiss, he says, “Your clothes, little one. They hurt.”

Are horny giants always so pedantic?

A finger pokes your head back and away from his cock, freeing you to his heated gaze. Blunt, his nail hooks into your tunic and drags down, ripping the sturdy material away until the garments flutter onto his bare skin and are brushed away. Now, you’re bare, shivering as the elements envelop you. 

“Pretty,” he mutters.

You gulp. This is getting too real, too fast. Shaking your head, you focus back on the task at hand. If you keep dawdling and moving too slowly, the sun will set and you’ll be stuck here forever. So, your mind fortified and your will intensifying, you wrap your arms once more around his cock. 

It’s hot. Scalding. Quite comfortably so, actually. Being naked in the forest makes the overwhelming warmth a welcome gift. Toji keeps himself clean, you can tell. There’s a lake nearby; perhaps he just bathed there before stumbling upon you. Still, there’s the undeniable stench of masculinity and desire dizzying your senses.

Groaning, his entire body rumbles with pleasure. You didn’t even notice you’ve already begun rubbing your body up and down, nipples hard and scraping against the bumps of his throbbing veins. Fingers strain to touch on the other side and finding it impossible.

Where the courage to jerk off a giant came from, you couldn’t say. This is all so new to you. Yet, as a spurt of precum shots out and douses your head, a pungent saltiness encasing you, it takes no genius to know he’s enjoying himself thoroughly. 

“Hmm, good. You’re not useless, after all.”

Ass. 

Peaking your head around the massive statue of a penis, you see him leaning on his arms, watching, what must look like to him, a feeble ant fumble about. His grin widens, somehow reading your mind, you can only guess. 

Scooping the pearlescent cum off your face, you smack it onto his cock, using it to lubricate your movements. Everything’s slippery now, even your thighs, which you try not to think about too much. 

“Faster,” he commands. “Milk my cock -ngh- faster, s-small woman.”

An orange glow washes over the land – you need to hurry up. Exhaling through your nose, you commit to this scandalous act. Using his balls to bounce, you slide up and down his cock, tongue out and licking the underside of his cock, the highest you can reach. Toji groans louder, a fist thumping against the earth and scaring the trees into rustling. 

More and more cum drips out of his slit, aiding your rubbing and soaking into your skin. It’s hot, salty and encouraging. You can’t help yourself; a leg hikes up and your plush thigh helps in pumping him too. A whimper escapes your lips. Fuck, that was a mistake. There’s a vein right by your hips that protrude enough to bump into your pulsing clit. You moan. 

"Feeling good?" He asks. "And here I thought this was all -hah- beneath you. Guess an adventurer can still be a dirty fucking slut."

You don't know how long you've been jerking him off, ignoring the harsh whispers of his potty mouth. It feels like it's been hours. Of course, you knew making a giant cum would be no easy feat, but this is excessive. Trained as they are, your limbs are aching with the effort. If only he had been a normal man, you would have brought him to his knees with your mouth.

It's unfortunate for both of you that if you were to use your mouth, all you'd achieve is a make-out session with his slit. But make no mistake, the heavy breathing, the instability in his thighs, and the chocked moans he breathes out into the air all feed your ego.

The great giant, Toji, is nearing his climax.

A hand reaches behind you, pressing your body tighter against his cock. Calloused and warm, he cradles you with his palm. Somehow, the force he uses is never too much. Always just right. For a couple pumps, he carries you up and down his length. Both of your legs are up and around him now, squelching pussy flat against the limb. Expertly, he grinds your hips just right at the largest, thickest vein he knows he has, moving a little faster with every moan, whine and whimper you give.

Cooing, he says, “That’s it, pretty -hah- w-woman. Make yourself feel good like a whore. Grind your pussy onto me…yes, fuck, such a good girl, ain’t ya?”

The vibrations of his voice reach you, stimulating your pussy to a sudden orgasm. You gasp, hips stuttering and juices flooding the length of his cock. It drips down onto his balls. 

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck!"

Toji laughs. “Didn’t take you very long to give in at all. Must have been pretty pent up, poor thing. I live nearby if you ever need to cum again. Maybe next time you can ride my tongue. It's a real shame even my fingers are too big for your needy cunt.”

Body limp, you pant through the bliss. There’s no way you just came from humping a giant’s dick like a dog. And there’s no fucking way that giant’s going to make fun of you when he clearly has to bully people much smaller than him just to get laid. 

Stomping onto his balls, you don’t give him any time to yelp in pain before you’re jumping up to shove your fist into his piss slit, the hot gooey walls sucking you in. 

He grunts. 

That’s all the warning you get before his sacks tighten and his cock erupts like a volcano, gallons of searing cum sprouting into the air and landing with an obscene SPLAT! all over you. 

“FUCK!” He bellows. 

A win for humanity and zero for oversized assholes like him. 

Curses echo around the forest. If anyone had been near, they would have seen the cause of the white puddle on the ground, the cracks in the earth, and the bald spots of grass, curtesy of his sweet attempts to not clutch his cock and kill you in the process.

You’re already leaping off his thigh, and rushing to pull out spare clothes from your bag before consciousness returns to his underfed brain.

Voice gravelly and sending lightning to the tips of your tits and clit, Toji drawls, “Clever little thing...where do you think you’re going?”

“Away, obviously. I’ve done my part and I need to get going.”

Darkly, he says, "I don't think so."

Plucking you from the ground once more, you hover in the air with a scowl. This can't keep happening. It's not only dangerous but also so damn embarrassing. You're being dragged around like a rag doll. Within arm's reach, you slap his nose. "Stop doing as you please, Mr. Giant Pervert. Let me go."

His face noses its way between your legs, ignoring your kicking legs and screams of complaint. He takes a deep inhale and a satisfied groan reaches your ears. 

“It’s dark out already. Too dangerous for a pretty woman like you. Stay with me in my cave, just for the night. I'll keep you safe and warm.”

"W-what? No, wait, stop."

He’s already up and trudging through the forest with you perched on his shoulder, tugging on his hair, uncaring of what you have to say. Well, it’s not like you were going to argue – it is too dark and dangerous now.

And the pulsing of your pussy hasn’t calmed down at all, not when every step leaves his shoulder digging between your legs in a sinful way. 

It wouldn’t hurt to make him clean you up with his tongue...right?

A quid pro quo, of sorts. 

Shame abandoned, you whisper in his ear, “Hey, do you think your...um...tongue is too big to fit inside me?”

He laughs.

[reignpage]

Splish Splashing

Summary: in which Merman!Nanami courts and fucks Mermaid!reader Warnings: smut, f!reader, penetrative sex, lovemaking, mutual masturbation, merman anatomy, loss of virginity/couple's first time, dirty talk - praise, biting, blood drinking, cum eating, exhibitionism, unfortunate slips from past to present tense sorry lol - not proofread - will probs be edited later and more detail added Word Count: 2.7k

Merman!Nanami, for as long as he could remember, had always had a crush on you, another mermaid in his pod. How could he not with your iridescent scales, captivating hair which flows in waves around you, and seductive smile?

You were kind and graceful, offering your help whenever you could and leading the way for your family. A beacon of light in the darkness that he could not look away from. The quick conversations on his way to patrol the surface and you to teach the merlings were no longer sufficing; he wanted more. Merman!Nanami wanted to go home together, wanted to be in your presence from high tide to low, to know you inside and out, to be the thing that kept you tethered, the way you were for him.

For many moons, you two had been swimming around, grazing fingers and exchanging heated glances. In your eyes a curious, lingering depth could be found, enticing him to dive in, to succumb to the whirlpool and drown in all that you could give him. There was no doubt about it; you liked him back. He knew what he needed to do. 

The courtship began with small gifts like a small trident that he found from a shipwreck, fallen-off claws for your hair, and a hard-fought shark tooth as a protection charm. They were little trinkets that you could use every day; knowing you carried him with you as part of your routine made his heart soar. You accepted his gifts and his songs happily. 

But you deserve much more. So his search led him to the seafloor for something just as vibrant, as vivacious, and gorgeous as you. It was no easy feat but Merman!Nanami would not give up. He could not. Shaking off the persistent desire for mentorship from a pink-scaled guppy, he ventured into a burning, forbidden zone, where no mermaids or mermen dared look in the direction of – his fingers were sore and healing for weeks after he foolishly rummaged through the scalding rocks by the volcanic rift south of his pod’s coral palace, all to find a glowing emerald stone he had a friend fashion into a golden diadem. 

Of course, he had no regrets. 

At the full moon’s peak, when the whole Pacific Ocean’s humble citizens came together to celebrate the heightened forces that bind the community into a peaceful coalition with a feast, you two found each other in the crowd, practically drawn together, hearts beating as one. 

Your tails intertwined. Eyes locked. Voices humming the same tune. Palms pressed against the other, his fingers longer and webs slightly bigger, he led you through the other bodies searching for one another, the towers of coral, and rains of pearls, all the way up to the surface. Illuminated by the moon’s light, you looked up at him, shyly, and eagerly accepted his gift. It looked much better on your pretty face than he could have ever dreamed. 

“It’s beautiful, Kento.”

He breathed out, “Yes…you are. Uh, I mean, it is. No, you are. Beautiful. So beautiful.”

You laughed. “Thank you. But I do hope the night won’t end with just a dance and a crown, Kenny.”

Emboldened by the physical manifestation of his devotion, which weighed heavy upon your head, you reached up and kissed him. You shared the same air, fuelling his ambition and urging him to grip your hips with his calloused fingers. That was the furthest you two had ever gone, too shy to go too far too quickly. Nothing was holding either of you two back anymore. 

Turning ravenous, the kiss became sloppy and messy, saliva dripping down his chin, tongue mingling and teeth nibbling on sore lips. Merman!Nanami asked, “Are you sure? We don’t have to.”

“Ken…if you don’t fuck me tonight, I’ll drown you myself.”

“Always so violent,” he mused. “Alright, my love. Let me feel you.”

The rubbing and grinding of your lower halves together was driving him wild. Like an impish eel, your arm slithered down, dainty fingers expertly navigating the sensitive slit on his tail. 

Merman!Nanami gasped. No one but him had ever touched him like that. No one else had delved into the burning pocket there and felt the smooth skin inside, swollen with need. He jolted. Your fingers are softer than his, more gentle, and satiny. It felt like Olympus submerged. 

“Have you touched yourself here before, Ken? Be honest.”

Red-faced and a little ashamed, he admitted, “Yes. Sometimes it feels better than touching my cock.”

“Hmm, I bet. I’m sure you could cum just like this right?” With your spare hand, you coaxed out the hot length of his cock and rubbed up and down, thumbing the underside of his leaking cockhead. “Wow…you’re so big. I’m almost scared it won’t fit. But we’ll make it fit, right, Ken?”

“S-sweetheart, p-please.” He didn’t know what exactly he was begging for. All he could think about was how right it felt to have your body pressed so close to his, breaths mingling, and tongues exploring the wet caverns of parted mouths. Merman!Nanami let slip a frightened whimper when something foreign begun to grow from his scaled slit. “What’s happening? That -ngh!- t-that feels odd.”

You nipped his bottom lip, swallowing the bead of blood and moaning at the sweet rush of his addictive taste. “No one told you about this, Kenny? You’ve never found it yourself? Oh, you’re like a poor little guppy.”

Clinging onto your breast and flicking the nipple there, hidden under jellyfish-like tendrils, he demanded, “Don’t make fun of me.”

The giggles from your soft lips almost brought a smile to his. 

“Sorry, Kenny. It’s a spur. It’s supposed to make me feel good…here.”

His fingers were guided to your slit. He was a stuttering mess, overcome with delirium and flustered at finally being able to feel what he’d envisioned during late nights and had only heard about through seaweed vines from bragging mermen. Hot, sticky and exceeding expectations, Merman!Nanami could only fumble about, poking and prodding like a useless clownfish. You should have left once you saw his inexperience. He wouldn’t have blamed you. But you didn’t. Instead, you held him tighter and whispered encouragements.

Similar to his own, your slit had thin-scales surrounding the vulnerable area. When he groped there, you shuddered. And inside, it was smooth and swollen. Once he got a grip, emboldened by the marks you were leaving on his skin and the pumping of your fist up and down his throbbing cock, he pushed his fingers deep inside, webs flexibly pushed back.

A strange shyness overtook you, unused to baring yourself to someone else, forcing you to hide your face in the crook of his neck. There, you dug your teeth into his flesh, sending venom into his bloodstream just as you drank his blood mercilessly. His hips stuttered. "Good girl...it's alright...keep -hah- drinking."

The venom was making him lightheaded. You'd penetrated him, your very essence coursing through his body and filling him up. It was addictive. Maddeningly so. In that moment, Merman!Nanami understood the obsession mated pairs had with drinking from each other until they were rendered paralysed and unmovable for days.

Shaking his head to keep focus, he wrangled through the euphoric haze derived from being able to sustain you to your mesmerising cunt.

Whereas his was only a shallow space which hid his cock, yours seemed to go on forever. Impossibly tight and delectably gummy, he found himself scissoring his fingers, not to stretch you in preparation as he knew he should have but rather, just to feel you. 

At the apex stood a small clump that, when rubbed in circles, elicits louder moans from you. That must have been what all the mermen of his age were so proud to have found, he realised. 

There were pleats by the entrance and then a pillowy area reminding him of the heads of jellyfish. He curled his fingers against it. You moaned. “Does that feel good? Hmm? Do you want more, sweetheart?”

You jerked him off faster and faster. The feeling , coupled with your delicious voice, was going straight to his head. “Yeah, Ken. Please.”

“Oh, so polite. What a good girl. Come here, sweetheart. Come give Kento a kiss.” The novelty of the feel of your lips might never wear off, he thought. It was a kind of bliss no one could ever deserve. And the mere suggestion that you’d welcome him so wholeheartedly, under the dazzling stars and full moon, embracing him – all of him – was sending him deeper and deeper into a world of joy he’d kill to keep. 

The breast covering you wore had torn off some time ago, leaving your bare flesh touching his. Manic, he found himself muttering anything that bubbled in his head. “I c-can’t believe I’m supposed to go inside here. In your pussy. You’re far too tight, like a clam.” 

Through whines and whimpers, you scolded him. “Don’t compare my pussy to a clam, Ken. That’s bad.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He swallowed hard. Truthfully, he wasn’t thinking. No one could think clearly when the most beautiful thing to have graced the depths of the sea is in their arms, moaning their name and baring their mark upon their head and on their supple body. 

Merman!Nanami sent vibrations through the water with his sudden thrums; your teasing tongue had found his gaping gills. He had never felt that kind of pleasure before. Poseidon be damned, he didn’t even know he was sensitive there. More and more you were teaching him all about the body he’d carried his whole life, awakening him to a world of wonders and pushing him to want more. 

“Oh, my darling pearl, can I put it in now? Please. I want to cum -hah- inside of you. I want to feel you. To be one with you.” You hastily mumbled affirmations into his mouth. He sighed, relieved and impatient. Clumsily, he lined up with his cock, thumb accidentally skimming his newly-discovered spur and hissing at the sensitivity there. Inch by inch, he made his way inside. “Fuck! Ah, fuck, so good, so tight, so -hngh!- warm.”

Feeling your gummy walls with his cock was so different than with his fingers; it was as if he could feel you better. You were scalding, softer than anything anyone could find in the sea and on land, he was willing to wager, and so tight he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. Never in a million years. Not even if the gods themselves commanded it.

When he bottomed out and the spur at the top of the base of his cock met your clit, you both gasped. “K-ken…what a dirty mouth you have.”

“Forgive me, my love.” He pleaded, hips instinctively driving through your clenching walls. Merman!Nanami knew he should have taken things slow, should have been more romantic and made sure you were alright but your pussy was sucking him in like the most deadly current and he could only go along for the ride. “I just need to -hah- to make you mine. All mine.”

“I am yours, Ken. Always.”

A shaky smile filled your sight. “Thank you. Oh, thank you, sweetheart. I-I promise to treasure you for life.”

You pricked a finger against his canine and allowed him to suckle at the blood trickling out of it. Merman!Nanami whimpered at your taste, already feeling the powerful effects of your blood in his system. He sucked even more down his throat, suddenly finding himself so thirsty. As if urged on by a supernatural force, his hips gyrated his spur against your clit in tight circles. 

“That’s really -oh so good, Ken- sweet. But I want to h-hear you say you’re mine too.” He cooed and kissed your pout away.

“I’ve been yours before I knew that our souls are one, sweetheart. I was only ever made for you.” His fingers trailed along the fins lining your spine, touch light against the crevice. The membrane twitched just as your walls clamped down on his dick. “Don’t! Ah, f-fuck, don’t tighten on me like that.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, jaw hanging and flashing your sharp teeth. “Then don’t say -hngh!- romantic things to me. Ugh, fuck, I’m close, Kento. More. Give me more.”

“Yes, sweetheart, w-whatever you want.” Merman!Nanami was ramming and pounding and plunging into your quivering cunt. His spur was rubbing and grinding and kissing your pulsing clit, all while he tickled your spinal fins with one hand as the other kept your lower half in place. “I’ll give you the world. Anything to make you happy.”

Hand over his chest, feeling the rapid beating there, you said, “I only -ah, wait! Hey! I’m trying to be sweet too. Hmm soo good… you’re distracting me.” 

He whispered an apology on your cheek, not slowing down at all despite your complaints. “You’re already plenty sweet, my love. The sweetest. But go on, darling. Make my teeth rot, you adorable thing.”

In retaliation, you flicked his nipple just to watch his head be thrown back with a hiss. “I was saying…I only need you, Ken. Just you and your beautiful heart.”

“Say the w-word and I’ll -hah that’s it, sweetheart - I’ll take it out and give it to you.” And he meant every word. There would only ever be one deity he’d swear his life to and she was wrapped around his cock. Just one sign from you and he’ll roam the seas looking for whatever will make you happy.

Tails intertwined and no longer working to keep you two afloat, you both spiralled beneath the surface, falling deep into the depths of the water, uncaring of who could see. As far as he was concerned, there were only the two of you. You and your sweet laughter, your sloppy cunt, and loving embrace. 

The diadem on your head rattled with both the weight of the gemstone and the force of your rocking and jostling. You'd never looked more majestic.

So, when your mind-shattering orgasm, which left you a babbling mess on the crook of his neck, propelled him over a cliff, he painted your walls with a grunt. 

“Kento!”

There was no rhyme or rhythm to his thrusting, only a desperation to be emptied so you can be warm and filled up. Some drops of his cum were pooling out. He quickly scooped them up and brought them to your mouth. Finally, his cum wasn’t going to waste, beading into pearls in the water. You were absorbing them into your body, greedily gulping the spend and clamping for more. 

"Delicious, Ken...you've saved up a lot for me, haven't you?"

Merman!Nanami cradled your body as he slumped down on the seabed, sand disturbed. He was still inside you, albeit quickly softening, but neither of you made a move to get him out – the closeness was comforting. "All for you..."

Freshly fucked out, he still couldn’t grasp the fact that he finally touched your skin, tasted your kiss, and heard your melodious voice calling for him. It was everything he dreamed of and beyond. A life full of darkness, of loneliness, of swaying with the waves with no direction or destination ended. Together, everything laid out, bare for each other, you made vows that would last for an eternity. 

“We should probably go back to the party, Ken. Our friends will be looking for us.”

Merman!Nanami pinched your chin and tilted your head back. Unable to help himself, he stole another kiss, swallowing your moan. You giggled. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of hearing the infectious laughter from your lips. If he could bottle it up and take it with him anywhere, he would, even if he had to sell his voice for the opportunity. 

“Hmm, I think they can wait after one more round, no, darling?”

You laughed even louder. “We’re not going to see them at all tonight, are we?”

He smiled. “No, I suspect we won’t.”

"You may not be planning on seeing us but we sure as Tartarus have been seeing you. A lot of you, actually. Perhaps too much, one could say."

Merman!Nanami's smile dropped and a deadpan expression took its place. "Hello, Gojo...and the entire pod."

[minswriting]

UNKNOWN TERRITORY - A.H x Reader x S.R

About: Spencer walks in on Aaron going down on you. So he watches the two of you have sex.

A/N: this didn’t come out exactly how i wanted it to but i have so many ideas on this dynamic lol. so feel free to send aaron x reader x spencer requests! credit for border goes to cafekitsune on tumblr!

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, office sex, unprotected sex, oral (f), getting caught, voyeurism, masturbation (m), whiny Spencer, whiny reader, making out, Spencer’s a virgin and receives a handjob

Word Count: 1.5k

Working late at the Bureau wasn’t one of your favorite things to do, especially after working a really long case. No one else was at the Bureau except you and Aaron, everyone had already gone home. You were exhausted and just wanted to go home as well. But you also didn’t want to be alone. You wanted to be between Aaron’s sheets as he fucked you into a blissful state. Instead, you were sitting on Aaron’s desk, thoroughly distracting him from the work he claimed he absolutely had to do, as he was on his knees with his face buried between your legs.

Your legs rested on Aaron’s shoulders as his tongue lapped around your cunt, coating his tongue with your juices. Your hands gripped the desk as you let out the most beautiful noises, soft moans with quiet whimpers. Aaron’s tongue dipped to your hole, causing his nose to grind against your clit. You gasped, moving a hand to Aaron’s head as your eyes fluttered shut. You gently tugged at his hair, causing Aaron to groan against your pussy. The sound sent vibrations through you, making you buck your hips in response.

You knew exactly when this sexual relationship began with Aaron. About four months ago, the two of you were forced to share a room in the rural countryside in Vermont for a case with only one bed. So naturally, you ended up with your face buried in the pillow as Aaron fucked you into oblivion. And you had absolutely no regrets.

Aaron worked meticulously at eating you out. He loved when he could just bury his face between your thighs. The amount of times you’ve woken up with his tongue inside of you was more than often whenever he slept at your place. Your pussy was like his happy place and he never failed to show you that. He moved his lips against your cunt, slurping as he sucked on your clit.

You whined, still gripping Aaron’s hair. You opened your eyes to look down at him, only to see someone standing at the door. You gasped. “S-Spencer,” You said, eyes widening.

Aaron stopped his movements, looking up at you with confusion. “What?” He deadpanned.

You pointed a shaky finger at the doorway. “Spencer,” You said again. Aaron turned his head, seeing Spencer standing in the doorway with a file in hand. Spencer was frozen, shocked at the scene in front of him. His lips were parted, his eyes wide like a deer, his cheeks were pinkened, and he was sporting a very obvious hard-on.

Nothing was spoken between the three of you for a good few seconds. You were still exposed, your pants sitting comfortably on Aaron’s couch in his office. Your legs were still on Aaron’s shoulders. You thought Aaron would stop the whole ordeal, being the most logical person in the room because he was your and Spencer’s boss. However, instead, he looks at Spencer and then at you and says “Reid, if you’re going to stand there and watch, you can at least come in and close the door,” before diving back into eating you out.

The action caused you to gasp and moan, your hand going back to Aaron’s hair. Spencer quickly walked into the office, closing the door behind him. He stood awkwardly in the room, watching the scene before him. He bit his lip, watching as Aaron ate you out. The way your body reacted to Aaron’s touch, the way your lips parted in an “o”. You looked as though you were in Heaven, basking in the pleasures that Aaron bestowed on you. And Spencer couldn’t look away. He didn’t want to. Spencer’s never done anything remotely sexual so his experience is very much nonexistent. What better way to learn to pleasure someone than to watch it happen right in front of you?

The look you were giving Spencer as Aaron ate you out was one that Spencer would likely jerk off to frequently. He had expected that you would look at Aaron as if he was the one pleasuring you but instead, your lustful gaze met Spencer’s doe eyes, as though you wanted him to join. And as you let out a loud moan, biting your lip when Aaron sucked on your clit, you made a come here motion to Spencer. Spencer was quick to walk over to you, placing the file that was in his hands on Aaron’s desk before taking a seat next to you on the desk. He looked at you, waiting for you to say or do anything.

You tilted your head towards Spencer, looking at him. “Kiss me,” you breathed out.

And Spencer didn’t need to be told twice as he put his lips onto yours.

Aaron glanced up as he continued eating you out, his hands on your thighs. He saw you and Spencer kissing, unable to help the small chuckle that escaped his lips against your cunt. The action of itself caused you to moan against Spencer’s mouth, allowing his tongue to explore you. Your kisses with Spencer were slow but hungry. Both of your hands were tugging at Aaron’s hair.

You could feel yourself getting closer. With the way Aaron’s tongue kept moving around on your pussy and how his nose would brush against your clit. The way Spencer’s tongue moved inside your mouth as he kissed you. The little cherry on top that sent you over the edge was the way Spencer had tentatively put a hand on your left boob, massaging the flesh through your shirt. You came with a loud moan that was muffled by Spencer’s mouth. Your thighs clenched around Aaron’s face, shaking as your orgasm overcame you.

When you finished, you pulled away from the kiss to look down at Aaron, breathing heavily. He pulled away from your cunt, taking your legs off of his shoulder as he stood up. His face was glistening from your juices. He took the back of his hand, wiping his chin before licking his lips. It wasn’t long until the three of you were undressed and moved to Aaron’s couch.

Spencer was sitting on the left side of the couch while Aaron had you bent over on the rest of it, his cock thrusting into you hard. Your eyes were rolled back as Spencer watched you. He had his cock in his hand, stroking himself with his fist. He thumbed the tip of his cock, spreading around the precum that had accumulated, causing him to let out a whine.

That noise sent a shiver down your spine, causing your pussy to flutter around Aaron’s cock. “Oh you liked that didn’t you, baby?” Aaron groaned, giving you a particularly harsh thrust, eliciting a sharp moan from you.

“Yes,” you whined, looking at Spencer.

Spencer really couldn’t believe what was happening to him. He knew it should’ve been wrong. The fact that you were his coworker and Hotch was his boss. And yet, he could hardly find himself caring when you looked so pretty getting railed by your boss. Spencer began stroking himself a bit faster, pumping his cock in rhythm of Aaron’s thrusts. But when your hand moved to wrap around Spencer’s, helping him jerk himself off? Spencer almost came right then and there. “O-oh fuck,” Spencer whimpered out, throwing his head back. His eyes met with Aaron’s as he turned his head to the side as Aaron gave him a smirk.

Aaron’s thrusts became more frenzied, chasing the pleasure that you both craved. The office was filled with the sounds of skin slapping skin, moans and whines from both you and Spencer, and the low groans that Aaron was letting out.

It didn’t take long for Spencer to cum. His hips began meeting your fist and he was done for. His cum landed on his chest and stomach as Spencer let out the most beautiful noises you had ever heard.

The heat was building in your abdomen from Aaron’s thrusts. You were close and Aaron could tell. “Go ahead and cum for me, baby,” Aaron said, grabbing your ass and massaging it. His breathing was harsh just like his thrusts.

You came with a high pitched noise that was surely pornographic, a noise that will live in Spencer’s dreams frequently. You buried your head into the leather cushion, cumming from Aaron’s cock. Aaron continued his pace before letting out a loud groan, burying himself deep inside of you as he came.

Harsh breathing filled the air as the three of you came down from your highs. You looked at Spencer who was moving his gaze between you and Aaron. None of you spoke. But there was change in the way the three of you interacted from now on. This fateful night marked the night when Spencer became part of your dynamic with Aaron. It was uncertain as to where it would go or what would come of it. But all that mattered was teaching one another and exploring each other’s bodies.

[ohimsummer]

meow…..more meangirl utahime and bully shoko😭😭😭😭😭😭💔

minors dni

bully! shoko knows how much meangirl! utahime can’t stand you. that being said…she finds it hotter than she should when you two makeout.

utahime always, ALWAYS objects. she calls you gross and pathetic and says you cry too much, either ignoring or forgetting the time she admitted to bully! yuki that she found you and your stupid crybaby face cute.

in the end, shoko can convince her with sweet, honeyed words and seductive touches. tells utahime it’ll just be for a short while, it’ll be so hot, it would turn her on so much—all while pumping the thick strap between her legs. utahime only has one condition (that you wear a blindfold) and if that’s all she’s asking for, shoko is perfectly fine with that.

utahime cups your face tightly with one hand, tugging you forward and smashing her lips into yours. the kiss starts off rough and rushed, violent as she gives harsh nips to your lips and sinks her manicured nails into your cheeks. she grunts in complaint every time you whine, pinching your cheeks harder whenever she finds your needy moans too annoying. her tongue tangles with yours and utahime pulls you in closer by the hips as her pussy throbs. it just pisses her off. fuck you, she doesn’t even like you, you shouldn’t be turning her on this much.

shoko watches from the sidelines, aching and yearning, toying with her strap and sucking on her index and middle fingers as she watches utahime have her way with you. her eyes trail down your bodies. she maneuvers behind you both, one at a time, tugging your shirts up and over your chests, taking off bras until you’re both bare and exposed and your nipples rub against eachother from how close you two are.

shoko lingers behind you, squeezing at your exposed skin, thrusting her strap between your asscheeks as she grinds against you. shoko dips her head to leave sloppy kisses and sharp bites along your neck. she moans against the shell of your ear, muttering about how good you feel and taste and how badly she wants to fuck you already.

her hand dips beneath the hem of your panties, slipping beneath your folds and pinching your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. you’re dizzy. it feels amazing. utahime grows a little too tired of the attention shoko’s giving you, and she stops the kiss just long enough to pry your mouth open with two fingers and spit on your tongue. she doesn’t let you swallow it right away. no, she makes you hold it there, look her in the eyes as she calls you a stupid slut before finally allowing you to swallow her spit.