𐔌 . argentina. horror geek. gamer. english student. bisexual. professional procrastinator. my favourite artists are six sex, lana del rey and patricio rey. .ᐟ｡୧ ꒱
i write about anime, video games and kpop. requests are open!
english is not my first language.ㅤ ۪ ֹ ਏਓ
𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐗
❥ my works
❥ ao3
❥ character list
❥ twitter / x
𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓. . .ᐟ food so good i fucked the chef (zosan)
MDNI smut, fucking while high, thumb in ass, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, praise/degradation, p in v sex, creampie
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO who invites you over after every one of your grizzly, inevitable breakups, arms reeling you into his warm body, inviting you to weep against his chest. "Forget about him. I'm here." he's said this so many times, his patience has thinned out and it's getting him honestly? A liiittle pissed off that you can't see that you have bad taste in men, but Choso's too polite to blame you for falling for every man except him.
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO who tacks glow in the dark stars to his ceiling so that when you come over for a session, you two can lay down and stargaze while passing a smoke between yourselves—really it's just his excuse to get you to cuddle with him on the bed. Smiling reminiscently of stupid things the two of you used to get up to when you were kids, he's got his favorite Pink Floyd record playing softly from the other end of the room, half the blankets spilling off his bed, curtains pulled closed so that only a thin slit of light illuminates the room with late afternoon light
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO who looks at you through a translucent haze of smoke, eyes softening like you're an angel. You're nodding off, murmuring some vague dirty joke that pulls a shy laugh from him and gets a boner popping in his pants all too easily.
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO who always makes you feel listened to with a long, soothing talk, passing you the blunt sparingly because he knows you get high too quickly. Once your giggles start getting a little too much, he steals the smoke out your possession, "No more weed for you, Little Miss Giggles."
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO who ends up snuggling between your thighs before he can roll the next blunt—what? Pussy eating is Choso's idea of therapy; let his tongue work through your problems, cum until you go numb and writhe on his bed.
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO who's got both your hands tight in his own as he swipes his nose up and down your glistening cunt, licking through your slit with an easy slowness. He knows just how you like it, he's spent enough time nosing in your post-breakup pussy and he knows what makes all the pain of falling out of love go away.
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO who takes deep huffs of your pussy like the scent is giving him a double high. He acts like he doesn't need oxygen, only pussy—emerging for breaths with this totally hazed look on his face and it's not just the high; this man just inhaled pure pheromones for an hour straight, aaand... he's diving back in.
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO who is so slow with it, because he likes taking his time with you. He knows you like the back of his hand, and he knows your pussy even better. He knows that soft kisses up the sides of your thighs is what gets you curling against the sheets, he knows that breathing all over your puckered, sensitive clit drives you absolutely insane, he knows that every kiss he presses against your outer folds makes a little more juice dribble down your slit.
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO whose eyes flutter shut the instant your creamy wet pussy hits his tastebuds, 'n then he's making out with it like a freak, swiping the length of his tongue up your middle before sucking up the juice leaking from your fluttery hole as if he's eating a messy fruit.
"Fuck, nn, Cho—" you whine out, eyes reduced to puffy slits with tears spilling from the corners.
"Sensitive?" he guesses by your twitching hips, nipping playfully at your perky clit, "Think you smoked a lil' too much, hm? I'll take it slow, you just lay back and enjoy yourself... pretty girls shouldn't be stressed. Can't believe you didn't come to me sooner... poor girl's so tense... did he even eat you out?"
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO who deep-sea dives right into it, gulping and getting recklessly messy with it—he loves that your essence leaks down his chin and neck, it makes him feel marked up, like he's just a few orgasms shy of becoming your boyfriend at long last. But ah, fuck... it's not enough, is it? He can tell at a glance that you're still thinking about your lousy ex in the back of your mind, so he's gonna wiggle his tongue a little deeper inside your soaked hole and render you dumber, 'till you forget his face, his name...
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO who wishes you would just give up on other men already, and give in to him—c'mon, he knows you better. His dick sits up politely for your attention, and he can cum from eating you out alone. What more could you want?
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO whose lips crack a smile when your moans get out of control, cool metal of his snakebites pressing into your soft folds.
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO who gets carried away, hooking two arms around your thighs so he can lock your pussy against his face, making you feel his tongue no matter how overstimulated your pussy gets.
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO who looks up at you, all droopy-faced and heavy-eyed after sacrificing oxygen for pussy. "Fuck," he feathers, "I need to fuck you so bad, please." he begs, and begs a little more until you're giggling and pulling your legs back for him, exposing your twitchy cunt for him to take.
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO whose dick is crazy sensitive when he's high, throbbing with urgency and freaking out the moment your hand comes down on it to relieve some tension. Your fingers wrap around the fat base, squeezing precum out until his dick is drooling like a puppy all over your well-pampered pussy all stiff and perky just waiting to dive in. You jerk him off over yourself like this, getting him ready, kissing him sloppy and slow in that all-devouring way.
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO whose eyelids twitch and throat vibrates with the sluttiest moans when he first slides inside you, feeling out your pussy with careful precision before drawing his hips back and obliterating your poor girl like he's gone pussy-crazy all of a sudden.
"Fuck, fuck, your pussy's so addicting," he whines, tears forming in his eyes the deeper he stuffs his dick inside your pillowy soft cunt, "can't get enough, I can't fucking get enough... just a little deeper, is that okay? Let me show you I can reach s-so much deeper than he ever fuckin' did... ahaah..."
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO who knows you love having a thumb plugging your puckered ass while taking it from behind because you'd complained plenty about how none of your shitty boyfriends indulged in it, so he has to make a point, of course, and show off to the max, "Greedy holes," he degrades with a praising tone and it just fucks you up so good, "need to be filled to the max, like you deserve, right? Need your cunt stuffed full of fat cock," he sighs, slamming his hips into you like an incubus freak, "and your ass plugged too, like the sweet little slut you are."
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO who knocks orgasm after orgasm out of you, without even meaning to... it just happens. His dick is too big, stretches you too deliciously, piercings driving you nuts, fat balls smacking your clit in mean doggy. "You're wetter than usual," Choso notes, lips skimming your ear, feeling you with such clarity even through his high haze, "fuck, 's drenching my pubes, what the fuck... ngh, how can you keep giving such a perfect pussy away to losers like that? You deserve so much better, you deserve..."
him, you deserve him, and his fat cock, and he's gonna fuck you until you realize that all you need is already all yours.
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO who fucks himself to tears, wet drops meeting your hot cheeks, chasing your lips and mashing his own against them until all your mouth is filled with is hot moans of a man desperate to cum. Two massive hands grab at your tits, squeezing with need. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, please," he bites his lower lip, driving his soaked cock through your clenching pussy, "let me have you, let me cum inside, g-god I just want to be yours..."
ㅤSTONER!CHOSO who locks eyes with you, lips parting wide open as he cums abruptly, thick cum spilling inside your pussy. He keeps his cock just shallow enough so that he can squeeze his cum out your well-fucked cunt after withdrawing, observing it like an art project he's proud of.
Then as if sex wasn't enough, he's melding his lips to yours for the next hour or two, until he's sure that he's rewritten the taste of your ex.
𝐒𝐔𝐌. » Zoro and Sanji are left alone to watch the Sunny while the tripulation is gone on a mission. Sanji decides to cook something with the new herb he got in the Sabaody market. Somethin's wrong, though. Why is Zoro taking off his clothes!?
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. » sex pollen, sabaody archipelago arc, unprotected sex, top!zoro, bottom!sanji, anal sex, anal fingering, blowjobs, kissing, rough sex, porn without plot, enemies to lovers.
𝐖𝐂 » 4,8K
The calming sound of frothy waves crashing mixed with crying seagulls and other coastal birds is the first thing that Sanji hears as he wakes up from his nap. The blonde man sits up on his bed and stretches his arms with a big yawn, his mouth feels dry as a desert, he frowns at the uncomfortable sensation.
He steps out of the bed and looks through the small window near him. The sun is still shining bright in the sky. He must have not slept that much.
Walking out of his cabin, Sanji notices the uncanny silence on the Sunny. Normally, he would find Luffy and Usopp fighting for yesterday’s leftovers, Franky loudly fixing something or even his dear Nami yelling at the boys. He didn’t find any of that. Just the rhythmic sound of water clashing on the boat and wind rustling through the trees of the shore in front of him.
He takes a moment to breathe in the peace and quiet. Something he hasn’t experienced in a long time outside of his beauty sleep.
Sanji’s amber eyes scan the dock, looking for any sign of his crewmates. His sight falls on a yellowish piece of paper nailed to the mast, the ones the lovely Nami uses for her maps, so he walks over and grabs it.
“Sanji,
We went to visit Rayleigh for some clues about Admiral Kizaru. You and Zoro were sleeping, so we left you to watch over the Sunny. We'll be back tomorrow. Hehe.
- T. T. Chopper. 🐾”
“They went without me?” Said a croaky voice behind him. Sanji yelled, scared surprised by the sudden appearance of the Marimo on the dock.
Where the hell was he!? How did he not see him!?
“Ugh, I just woke up, stop yelling!” Zoro yelled back, rubbing his eye. His sharp green hair was a tangled mess on top of his head. There also was the thinnest line of dry spit on the corner of his mouth.
“You sca- took me by surprise, you idiot,” replied the taller man, fixing his shirt trying to regain composure and changing the subject. “Where were you, by the way?”
The green-haired swordsman shrugged with an “innocent” smile. “Over there, sleeping.” He pointed to a part of the dock that had a chair. Sanji huffed and folded the paper note neatly before putting it inside his pocket. While his hand was already there, he grabbed his cigarette box and matches.
The blond pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “God, you’re such an imbecile,” he muttered before lighting up a cigarette and taking a drag.
Zoro just stared at him, his expression blank and unreadable, the kind that some people would consider stoic and warrior-like. To Sanji, he just looked like not a single thought was behind those eyes.
“So,” the green-haired man yawned mid sentence. “What’s for dinner, love-cook?” He questioned while rubbing his stomach.
Sanji paused, humming as he tried to remember what he had in the pantry. “Um, I don’t know yet, since it’s just us tonight… I’ll go check.”
Zoro nodded and walked away without saying a word.
The tall blond made his way to the pantry and checked what ingredients were left, which wasn’t much. Some meat, some rice, some vegetables…whoops, not a single condiment on sight. He pursed his lips. Even if he could manage to cook something for them - which he could, obviously - there wouldn’t be enough food for the rest of the Straw Hats when they come back. And he needed to welcome Nami and Robin (and the rest) with nutritious food after their quest.
I need to go to the market.
The cook went out to the dock again and with a quick “I’m going to the market!” followed by a hum from the swordsman made his way to the archipelago’s town market.
-
During the walk to the market, he took the time to admire the view while smoking a cigarette. The gigantic trees loomed over the coast, their massive roots arching into the water like natural bridges. Soap bubbles drifted lazily through the air, shimmering with iridescent colours whenever sunlight struck them. Some floated between buildings, others popped softly against wooden docks or the hulls of passing ships.
The salty scent of the sea mixed with sap and smoke, and the distant hum of voices, footsteps, and creaking wood gave the archipelago a constant, living rhythm. Sunlight filtered through the canopies in broken patterns, reflecting off the water below and painting the entire place in soft blues and greens. It was truly a gorgeous place.
Minutes passed before he arrived at his destination: a small market lined with stalls overflowing with all kinds of goods. It wasn’t very busy at that time of day, allowing Sanji to take his time as he wandered from stand to stand, eyes scanning fresh produce, spices, and unfamiliar ingredients.
He stocked himself with the basics: meat, various vegetables and fruits, and dairy products. Then, while he was distracted looking at a selection of herbs, he accidentally bumped into someone.
He turned quickly to apologize, only to recognize a familiar pair of…
“Shakuyaku! Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” the blond exclaimed.
The short-haired woman smiled at him. “It’s okay, Sanji. How you doin’?” she greeted.
“Good, good,” he laughed nonchalantly. “Just stocking up the pantry. How about you?”
“Same here,” she replied. “Your crew’s visiting my husband. How come you’re not there with them? Could’ve used the help in the kitchen.”
It was clearly a joke—a light-hearted comment—but Sanji’s chest still ached with the noble urge to assist such a beautiful woman, rather than being stuck with that smelly marimo.
“Zoro and I stayed behind to keep watch over the Sunny,” he said, annoyance creeping into his voice, almost rolling his eyes at the memory of his current torture. His ears were blessed by her pretty laugh.
“Pity,” was all she said. Then she paused, as if the wheels were turning in her head. “You don’t like Zoro that much, huh?”
“I like him about as much as people like having a rock in their shoe.”
Shakuyaku laughed softly, shaking her head. “That bad, huh?”
“You have no idea,” Sanji replied with a sigh. “He snores, he gets lost even when he’s standing still, and he smells,” his nose wrinkles, like he was smelling him next to him. “Anyways, I won’t keep you from your duties any longer, I’m just gonna finish buying some herbs and spices.”
Shakuyaku’s thin eyebrows raised at that. “Oh, I have just what you need here!” exclaimed the dark-haired lady, fishing for something inside her full bag of groceries. She pulled a small pack of blue-ish purple herbs, neatly tied with a pink string.
Sanji’s bushy brows furrowed. “What is that?”
“Just some Blushleaf,” Shakuyaku shrugged. “It’s something we grow here. It’s quite nice paired with meat,” she explained, handing him the herbs. “Keep it, I have plenty in my bag.” She chuckled softly. “But be careful. They’re kind of special, so use a little.”
“Thank you, dear Shakuyaku, I’ll use them tonight,” Sanji thanked her for her kind gesture and slipped the herbs into his bag without much thought. The scent lingered on his fingers, warm and kind of spicy.
They say goodbye to one another and set off in different directions.
-
Back at the Sunny, Sanji arrived with another cigarette between his lips and a bag full of groceries in each hand. He was greeted by the sight of Zoro’s sweaty back. The smelly swordsman was lifting weights with steady, unhurried movements, his focus entirely on the exercise. His biceps flexed with each lift, popping out his arms and glistening when the sun catched the small droplets of sweat rolling down his skin. He could hear the deep grunts ripping from Zoro’s throat as he kept going.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” huffed the green-haired man, clearly aware of the blond’s staring.
Sanji exhaled a thin stream of smoke through his nose, clicking his tongue in irritation as he adjusted his grip on the bags and stepped around the mess.
“You better pick up when you finish.” It’s all he said, walking to the kitchen, ignoring the heavy breaths coming from behind him.
After putting away the groceries, he began prepping the ingredients he was gonna use tonight.
Sanji browned some garlic cloves in lard, chopped some onions, and added them to the pan. When they were sufficiently caramelized, he removed them and, in the same pan, seared the meat, basting it with its own juices as it cooked.
In another pot, rice was cooking for a curry - enough for him and the bottomless pit that was Zoro’s stomach.
When the meat was almost done, he added a couple of chopped herbs, including the Blushleaf that Shakuyaku had given him. The aroma that rose from the meat was remarkable, like nothing he ever smelled before.
He plated everything neatly, worthy of the Baratie, a proud sigh leaving his lips while admiring his work…until he remembers it’s for that smelly…
“Marimo!” yells the cook without enthusiasm. “Food’s ready!” He places the food on the table, making sure to set them at opposite ends, as far away as possible from his caveman manners.
Zoro was seated in front of him in less than a second and immediately started eating. He ate like a starved man, but it didn’t bother the cook that much; he was glad Zoro liked his food so much that he inhaled it and asked for seconds.
Sanji, on the other hand, took his time savoring his dish. He found that the Blushleaf added a warm, earthy spice to the meat, it was delicious. He made a mental note to thank Shakuyaku the next time he saw her.
It was so good that they both went for seconds, and Zoro even took a third, while Sanji lit his after-dinner cigarette at the table. Between his second and third serving Zoro slowed down his pace. His chopsticks hovered midair over his bowl and the space between his brows creased.
“I’m feeling a bit woozy after that big supper,” he muttered, rolling his shoulders as if he was trying to shake it off. “Must’ve eaten too fast.”
Sanji snorted softly, taking a drag of his cigarette. “That’s a first,” he said, exhaling smoke to the side. “Try chewing next time.”
Zoro ignored his comment. Instead he blinked slowly, once, twice, his gaze drifting unfocused around the room. The light filtering inside the room seemed…wrong. Wasn’t it nighttime?
“The room is glowing,” he said softly, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand.
Sanji shot him a look. “Finally lose what little sense of direction you had left?” he flickered the ash of his cigarette.
Zoro’s deep eyes settled on him. It felt uncharacteristically intense and calm. He didn’t scowl at him, nor did he return the insult.
“You look so…soft,” he added, like it was a simple observation.
The cigarette stalled between Sanji’s fingers. For half a second, the only sound was the faint clink of Zoro’s chopsticks against the plate and the quiet crackle of Sanji’s cigarette burning down. He scoffed, forcing a laugh that came out a little too sharp.
“Tch. You’re more out of it than I thought,” he said, turning his head away and taking another drag.
Still, there was a warmth spreading inside his chest that didn’t go unnoticed. He glanced back despite himself. Zoro hasn’t stopped staring at him. His eyes fixated on him with an odd softness in them.
Neither of them could tell what was happening, but they felt like something shifted. Be it inside of them or around.
Zoro was the first to move. His large hands pressed against the table as he pushed himself upright, veins standing out along his muscular arms, his pulse hammering wildly beneath his skin. His presence shifted the air in the room the moment he stood, heavy and unavoidable, his gaze locked onto Sanji like it had nowhere else to go.
The blond dragged a hand over his neck, irritated. His skin felt like it was burning in the air of the dining room. The tension between them was thick as tar, clinging, suffocating - like a sudden change in pressure that made the room feel smaller. And as Zoro slowly closed the distance between them, each breath felt too short.
Like a hammer, his pulse pounded inside his throat, slow but persistent.
Warmth bloomed beneath his skin, spreading without permission.
The smell of spices lingered in the air, mixed with something more…raw.
Zoro.
Sanji clenched his jaw, fingers curling tight as if he needed to hold onto something — anything — to keep himself from acting impulsively.
“Don’t come near me,” he grunted without any real strength. Zoro stopped in his tracks, however he was already too close. “Shakuyaku…” the name of that beautiful woman tasted like sour milk in his mouth. It suddenly made sense to him why she was so interested in his relationship with the damn marimo. “It’s all her fault. She gave me an aphrodisiac.” Sanji wanted to think that the heat rising in his chest was anger or betrayal, but that lie fell apart the moment his fingers moved to his shirt, undoing one button.
Then another.
Zoro nodded. “I figured,” it’s all he said. He didn’t reproach him for having been deceived by Shakuyaku, nor did take the clear opportunity to mock his stupidity; he simply stared intently at the recently exposed skin of his chest. Sanji found it strange, he was feeling like a piece of meat being dangled in front of a hungry dog.
“Aren’t you gonna say something? Call me an idiot for being cajoled by a woman into cooking a fucking aphrodisiac to you?” questioned the blond, growing frustrated by Zoro’s staring.
The swordsman took the final step that closed the distance between the two of them. Now their feet touched, and the tips of their noses brushed against each other delicately so that it kind of tickled. It felt like the room temperature rose in a second, making the men breathe agitated and their hot breathes clashing together.
He was so close to Sanji that he could count each and every freckle on his tanned face. His scar, product of his determination and sacrifice, adorned his face with rugged charm. He never said it to him, but he had always liked the way it made Zoro look badass. It seemed like Sanji wasn’t the only one analyzing the other’s face, because Zoro’s eye was travelling up and down all across the chef’s face too. He stayed focused on his lips for a little too much.
Zoro’s large hand slithered to the back of Sanji’s neck, caressing the blond hairs with the tips of his fingers while applying pressure with the palm. It felt hot, his skin was burning against Sanji. It also felt strangely relaxing.
“Zoro…?” Sanji’s voice sounded nervous, he wasn’t sure what the other man’s next move was going to be. Was it going to be the same thing Sanji was thinking about?
“Shut up, cook,” Zoro whispered, leaning over to press his lips against Sanji’s. The blond’s breath hitched the moment he felt the other man’s mouth kiss him, his eyes opened in shock for a second, and he broke from the kiss immediately.
Zoro didn’t mind his rejection, he just lingered with his open lips brushing against Sanji’s, breathing-no, huffing agitated. He stayed there, mouths touching but not kissing, until he looked up to meet the cook’s eyes and he had this one glance - needy, desperate, miserable, and Sanji just thought ‘fuck it’ and pulled him by the collar of his shirt.
This time, Sanji melted into the kiss without hesitation, his lips desperately looking for Zoro’s touch. His head leaned to the side with a hum as Zoro’s hand pressed into his neck to get impossibly closer, the other one settled on the curve of his back, making Sanji arch into him as they continued the embrace. Their mouths fused together and their tongues fought each other in such a knee-weakening way. Sanji felt ravenous, as if he had woken up a sleeping beast inside of him that needed to kiss the marimo in order to survive.
As the kiss grew hotter and more desperate, the men moved their positions so now Sanji was almost sitting against the end of the table while Zoro was in front of him, caging the blond with his large body. Sanji’s hands clawed at Zoro’s clothes, trying to hint that he should take them off. He did, he broke off the kiss and hurriedly took off his t-shirt. Sanji did the same, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and throwing it next to the marimo’s. When their torsos were bared from any remaining fabric, their mouths met again in a rough, hungry kiss.
Hands explored each other’s bodies, clawing and grabbing at every inch of hot skin they could get at. Sanji felt a bottomless pit of desperation in his stomach that only being close to Zoro seemed to fill. Any memory of past arguments or repressed frustration he had for the marimo long gone when he tasted his lips.
When they broke the kiss once again to recover oxygen, Sanji began to kneel in front of Zoro, his head between the edge of the table and his bulging groin. With shaky hands, he unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, revealing Zoro’s hard cock as his pants and underwear were fully slid down at once. The blond took a moment to admire his manhood, that large and proud erection pulsing in front of him, he felt a little saliva starting to pool on the sides of his mouth. Sanji would never have guessed that Zoro’s dick was gonna be that pretty, thick and rosy at the tip.
With a generous amount of spit in his palm, his hand enveloped the hard cock. At first, his strokes felt hesitant, not knowing what the marimo would like in a handjob. But then, when Zoro began to mindlessly thrust into his hand, deep groans fluttering from his throat, he started to feel more confident and began to work his hand on Zoro’s cock with more determination.
His mouth followed, wrapping itself on the swordsman’s tip and suckling a little, gaining beautifully desperate moans from Zoro that went directly to Sanji’s aching bulge. He liked the weight of Zoro's cock against his tongue, hot and warm. “Mhm, fuck, cook,” groaned the green-haired man, grabbing the blond’s hair and taking control, fucking his cock into Sanji’s mouth. “Take that cock, yeah.”
Sanji hummed around Zoro’s dick, sending pleasant vibrations, this was his first time sucking cock, but he was not gonna make a fool of himself. He remembered how he liked it done to him, so with that in mind he just went at it. He slowly dragged his tongue on the lower part of his shaft, making sure to use his hands wherever his mouth couldn’t reach because - wow, Zoro was big.
He tried, but failed, not to gag on it. Zoro was pretty rough with him, so needy to have his dick sucked by Sanji that he rudely ignored how his amber eyes shined and his blushed cheeks were getting wet with tears. “Don’t be such an animal, marimo,” managed to mumble the blond one of the few times he got space to breathe.
“Shut the fuck up and suck my cock, chef,” responded Zoro, tugging at the hair he was still grabbing. Sanji moaned at that rudenedd and continued to let his throat get fucked by Zoro’s cock. It was a messy pace. His hips thrusted erratically into his mouth, and his balls slapped against Sanji’s chin, which was wet with his drool. All of that plus the heightened sentations and the hand stroking Zoro at the base made the orgasm inevitable.
It didn’t take long until warm white ribbons shot into Sanji’s throat. The blond man swallowed them like a champion, sucking him dry. He actually didn't taste bad, kind of...sweet. Could it be the Blushleaf?
The hand that was still grabbing Sanji by the hair pulled him off the other man’s cock. There was a thick line of spit and cum keeping his bottom lip and the tip of Zoro’s cock together. “Shit, you’re such a slut,” gasped the marimo out of breath.
Sanji swallowed, his throat felt sore from all that work. “It’s not nice to slut-shame, marimo,” said the blond while cleaning his chin and mouth with his hand.
“It was a compliment, though,” defended the green-haired one, helping the cook to stand up and turning him around so his back was pressing against his chest.
The aphrodisiac was strong enough to make Zoro's cock hard again, but they didn't immediately take care of it, it was Sanji's turn now.
The marimo's rough hands unmade Sanji's trousers, letting them slide down his long legs and pool around his ankles. He spat on his hand before the calloused palm wrapped around the blond's aching cock. The moment Sanji felt the warm roughness on him, he let out a soft groan from the satisfaction of finally being touched.
Zoro was pumping his cock with tight strokes while his bare erection rubbed against his ass, getting a little of the edge off. It felt really nice, his thumb rubbing at the tip, his fingers playing a little with his balls from time to time, his other hand just feeling his toned torso up and down, just the way his rhythm was calculated to make him moan overwhelmed. All of that paired with the nastiest words being gasped against his ear.
"You have a pretty cock," chuckled the marimo, leaving a trail of wet kisses from his shoulder to his neck. "So cute, twitching against my hand, so needy."
"Mhm," whined the cook, "Shut up," it didn't sound like an annoyed shut up, more like a shy one, as if he found the compliment pleasant.
"Aww, you like it when I praise you?"
Why was this man suddenly so talkative? Sanji nodded, arching his back so his ass could be closer to Zoro's cock.
"I'm gonna prep you now, okay?" warned the swordsman, shoving two of his free fingers inside Sanji's mouth, getting them nice and wet with his spit.
Sanji bent over the table slightly, making himself more accesible yet still leaving space for his cock to continue being jerked off. His skin got goosebumps when the first finger caressed lightly between his cheeks, circling around his puckered hole.
"Relax, bab-cook, I'm gonna be gentle...at first."
Zoro didn't even let him process what he said because his finger started making its way into his asshole and the sharp sensation was too distracting. It felt weird, but it didn't hurt like he would have thought, and that strange feeling dissappeared immediately when Zoro started thrusting his finger in and out of him. The overwhelming pleasure of his cock being jerked and his ass getting finger-fucked erased any trace of thought and commons sense inside his brain, it only left behind a mess of moans and grunts.
"Heh, you like it so much," it wasn't a question, he knew he was enjoying it, it was obvious. "I'm gonna add another finger and then I'm gonna fuck that bratty ass of yours."
"Fuck, yes," cried out Sanji when he felt another digit entering his hole, Zoro's hands were so big, his fingers reached his prostate with no problem. Sanji's eyes rolled back into his skull when that white-hot pleasure shocked his nervous system.
"You're so tight, I don't think you're gonna take my cock at all," gasped Zoro, still stroking softly the other man's dick, yet his eyes fixated on the way his fingers dissappeared into the blond's hole, groaning at the visual.
"O-Of course it's gonna fit, who do you take me for?"
Zoro chuckled, removing his digits from Sanji and letting go of his cock, earning a bratty whine from the blond at the empty sensation, which made Zoro laugh again. "Let's see, then."
Sanji heard another spitting sound. Then, Zoro’s cock head gently rubbed against his asshole before shoving it slowly inside of him. It didn’t hurt, the aphrodisiac basically eliminated any uncomfortable sensations and enhanced the pleasure. The blond let out a small whimper, he felt every inch of his length, every pulsating vein, it almost made him drool.
“Shit, so tight,” Zoro mussitated between gritted teeth. His hands held tightly on both sides of Sanji’s hips. Both men let out a moan when he finally bottomed out and his pelvis clashed against Sanji’s asscheeks, making them jiggle.
“Fuck me already, marimo,” demanded the cook with heavy breaths. “I’m not getting any young- Ah!” he moaned, interrupted by a sharp thrust that had him seeing stars for a second. Well, at least he obeyed him.
Charged thrusts kept coming one after the other. Sanji’s nails dug on the wooden table, leaving tiny lines on the old surface. Both of them moaned and groaned with zero inhibition, why would they silence themselves when nobody was there to catch them? They even broke some plates and glasses when Zoro shoved them out of the way, laying Sanji’s chest on the table so he could reach deeper into him.
Damn, is this why they call it being fucked dumb? Because every time the marimo’s big cock hit that one spot inside him that had him arching his back like a cat, any form of coherent thought escaped his brain. He no longer remembered his name, only moaning one thing.
“Zoro! Mm, fuck!”
His cries, broken and needy, fueled Zoro’s movement like gasoline to a fire. All they could hear was the ocean and the plap-plap-plap of their sweaty skin slapping. It was a non-stop wave of bliss, every nerve on their system constantly short-circuiting. Sanji whined when Zoro’s hand grabbed his hair, arching him impossibly more towards him. He left open-mouthed kisses and tiny bites on his neck, savouring the saltiness of his sweat and humming at the taste invading his tongue.
“So pretty, so f’cking pretty f’me,” growled the swordsman into his shoulder, each word interspersed with an aggressive thrust that pushed Sanji forward. “You like having my cock inside you? You like being my slut?”
Even with his head restrained by Zoro’s hand pulling his hair, Sanji nodded and cried a pathetic “Yessss!”
“Fuck, fuck, yes! Make me your slut, marimo, fill me up with that cock- Oh! Shit! You’re so big, fuck,” Sanji was rambling at this point, all he could think about was his prostate being bullied by Zoro’s fat tip, hitting so so hard, and he was so close. Oh, so fucking close his teeth pressed and his jaw clenched. “Please, Zoro, I’m gonna cum,” he cried out, gasping and reaching back so he could grab the other man’s side, keeping him from stopping his moves.
“Yeah?” Sanji could hear Zoro’s fucking grin against his neck. “Gonna cum for me? Make a mess in your little kitchen?” The blond just answered with a tight moan. “Then cum, so I can fill this tight ass up, too.”
“Mm, Zoro, fuck I’m cumming!” When Sanji’s orgasm hit, it felt like a wave crashing against his body at first, shocking and aggressive, but then the second part followed and all of his muscles relaxed in an exquisite warmth. His cock throbbed and ejaculated all over the table, and it was then that he noticed he never even touched it. He came undone from Zoro fucking him.
Zoro followed him with a mind-shattering groan. “Shit, Sanji!” His cock pumped Sanji’s ass full of his seed. The man leaned his head against Sanji’s damp and blushed back, gasping for air with his eye tightly closed shut, trying to regain composure.
That was just the first round of the night.
-
It was morning when the rest of the crew came back to the Sunny. All of them were tired from the trip and happy that they were home now. Their stomachs growled and hoped Sanji was waiting for them with a feast.
When they all reached the kitchen/dining room, Nami was the one to yell first. “WHAT THE FUCK!?”
There they were, Zoro and Sanji, surrounded by broken glass and porcelain. The chairs were lying on the floor next to them. The portraits and paintings too. Even the curtains were torn. The whole image in front of the group was a mess. Zoro was squatting and holding the dustpan while Sanji was quietly sweeping all the broken shards on the floor.
“What happened here?” Questioned Robin, crossing her arms.
The men looked at each other, trying to find an answer.
“Did you guys fight again?” Asked Luffy this time, scratching his head.
“Yes!”
“We did!”
“Ugh, we can’t leave you two alone for a day that you mess up the entire place,” groaned Usopp, leaving the room without another word.
“Yeah, you better leave this place squeaky clean!” Said Nami. “And the deck too!”
“I thought that was your task, Nami,” spoke Chopper, furrowing his brows confused.
Synopsis. Loserboys, creeps, and straight-up pervs: the weirder they are, the better the D?!
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reade
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, Iosers and pervs, pánty-steaIing, exhíbitíonism, jorkin it, bear hybrid!Nanami, bréeding, slightly lNSANE Geto, marathons, overstím, p talking, GOONERS, cameras, pIot, true form!Sukuna, DP, Sukuna’s second mouth, nerd!Gojo, vírgins, first times (theirs), spítting, manhandIing, HEADLOCKS, NEEDY JJK men, prem. ejac, creampíes, cúmpIay, REACTIONS, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. Choso’s inspired by this AMAAAAZING art by the talented @jabesa0 <33
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - PERV-next-door!
“Hey, girlie.” Toji leans against the entrance to your apartment, his off-white tank top showing off those beefy muscles. One hand grabs onto the top of your door- just because he could. And it made your eyes bulge as you tried (and failed) not to gawk at those biceps of his, then all the better…
And then there was his other hand: wrapped around something so red and lacy.
You lunge—“Oh my-” Swiping at the flimsy undergarment. Yours. “Where did you even this, you per-”
“If I was a pervert, I would’ve kept it.”
“I know what you’re like.” The wind these days was awful - and even worse was that smug look on your neighbor’s face as he brought over your blown-away laundry.
He’s holding it well above your height, snickering at the way you jump for it. “Easy there, mama. With the way these things fly over to my place, m’starting to think that you want me to have them.”
Your jaw drops—and you’re snatching the gauzy fabric from his hands. “You wish-”
“Oh, I do.” And he’s just so shameless, just so sleazy as he flashes you a smile - the very same one that you’d been gifted when you first moved here. Because Toji Fushiguro was your neighbor, and you suppose that the proximity of your apartments side-by-side made it so that the man himself didn’t have a concept of personal space.
At least with you- he’s leaning in ever-closer.
His scorched breath tingling your features—the devilishly handsome older man next-door. “And the next time those pretty lil’ panties fly over, you’re not getting them back, girlie.”
You struggle to not back away- or worse, not step forwards. To lean against him. “Y-you wish.”
.
.
.
And so the first evening afterwards had passed with…only a sock disappearing.
And you could stand to lose a sock! Toji didn’t come banging at your door with a sock thrown over his broad shoulders that day, and you didn’t expect him to.
The second evening had passed with your panties disappearing.
The third evening had passed by with even more panties and a pretty lil’ top worn only on nights out disappearing.
The fourth evening had, by far, been the worst.
You’d been running low on underwear these days - being too stubborn to ask your neighbors, and being too close to rent to replace clothes you could easily request back. So imagine your utmost horror when you’d found nearly all your panties and a few of your bras had disappeared.
By the fifth evening you were running on only a singular pair of grandma panties.
By the sixth evening that had disappeared, too.
And by the sixth night you were knocking at Toji Fushiguro’s door-
Only for him to open it up with a smug smile, “Took you long enough to notice.”
Notice…notice?
It’s then that his door unhinges just a little wider- and you’re eyeing the sliver it shows of Toji’s bedroom. The pile of pretty panties piled on top of it.
Oh—it’s only then that you’re hit with the retaliation—he’d taken them.
It’s less than a few minutes later that you find yourself shoved face-first into the frilly pieces of themselves. Your hands plucking at the soft blankets, your thighs shaking at the sheer slapping force of his hips.
Pap-pap-pap- Toji’s pounding into you from behind.
His thiiiiick globular cockhead probin’ between your pussylips and finding the deepest, sweetest spots inside of you. It’s as though Toji was bruising the smooth inner lining of your walls—finding himself damn addicted to the feeling of how you’d clench ‘round him.
“Damn…” How you’d dribble out in the silkiest hot slick from both pairs of your lips. Creating a puddle that you find yourself slipping n’ sliding upon. “Easy there, girlie- arch up a bit more f’me…”
“I should report you, is what.” You’re grumbling behind you.
“Should what now?”
Right as you’re opening your mouth to snark back, his swollen shaft reaches for the back of your pussy and pummels out a good strike. How cute. “O-oh—fuck, Toji.”
“You are fuckin’ me.” He’s snickering out, grabbing both sides of your waists to help you squirm against him- yes. Toji wasn’t stopping you from rutting your hips back as needily as you wanted, instead, he was letting your cunt salivate all she wanted down his length. He helps you jerk back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. “Yer welcome for that.”
“I didn’t say thank you.” Swallowing back your dollops of spittle- only for it to be pushed out of you all over again with a sudden thwack! at your g-spot.
“Yeah, ungrateful girl.” And it’s with his drawling tone that he slithers a hand between your legs—the fatness of his thumb slippin’ apart your pussylips. He rolls over your clit fast enough that it’s nothing but a blur, “Should be thankful.”
You’re pressing your face against the flimsy panties- “F-for what—”
“For takin’ such goood care of these slutty panties, of course.” Toji gruffs out, leaning over you to grab one of them. He’s letting his muscular weight rest on top of you, holding up his treasure- and your heart races as you realize that he’d picked out the strappiest, sexiest pair of panties from the bunch. “Look at that.”
But soon enough, you couldn’t look at whatever he was referring to- because Toji had your panties looped between his fingers. His fingers slipping down to his cock—
Almost like a decoration, Toji wraps the red, red fabric around his thickened hilt.
Fucking you while he has it on-
“You can also thank me fer making such good use of these panties.” His words stick against the back of your spine like perspiration. “For fucking my cock to th-these-” The daintily textured fabric grazes against your clit and your outer pussy in such a carnal way. “-eeeeevery single night I had them.”
You breathe out, “Shit, you didn’t.”
But he merely grunts out in such mean laughter, “You can thank me for cleaning up the mess- oh, and what messes I made with these. Heh.” His words are filthy enough to make your ears ring, and you’re gulping at the image of his…messes. “You can thank me for thinking of you each- and- every- time.”
Such ruthless smooches at your g-spot, all your nerves fried at the sheer pace of him. “You’re just…fuck.”
“Dick got yer tongue?”
“Filthy.”
“Nah, girlie.” His teeth sink into the lobes of your ears- you can physically feel the presence of his smirk. And that was saying the least, you could already feel the presence of his rude cockhead bashin’ in at your throat-
Toji hooks his free hand around your throat, pulling you up into a damn headlock. You’re crushed between his biceps. “I’m a pervert.”
“M-mercy…”
Your mouth gets stuffed with those lacy red panties immediately.
.
.
.
The next knock on Toji Fushiguro’s apartment door comes hours after yours- and unlike your urgent one, this time it was steady. Stern.
Certainly not that of someone who’d lost their panties.
But then again, Toji certainly didn’t expect the person on the other side of the door to be-
“You.”
“You?”
Shiu Kong wanted to be the last person knocking on Toji Fushiguro’s door right now.
“I just moved in.” He explains, sounding as though his soul was being sapped away with every single syllable. The man peeks through the crack in the door—to where you were poking your head out of the bedroom. Right along with a…mountain of panties? “Next door…” Breathless.
“And?” Toji gruffs out, “I’ve got shit to do, man- or more like someone to do.”
Shiu deadpans, “I’ve come to formally file a noise complaint.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Hiber-MUNCH.
You had a problem.
See, the problem wasn’t that you were dating a bear hybrid: Ursus arctos horribilis, over seven feet tall and the most gentle man you’ve ever known. The problem wasn’t that it’d been a bit of a learning curve to get used to your separate species lifestyles - yours as a human, and Nanami’s with his den, his appetite, and his hibernation.
The problem wasn’t even the forty plus bed frames that Nanami had broken over the course of your relationship until now!
See, the problem was that…your panties had been disappearing.
You had more than enough pairs stuffed in your bottom drawer - frilly ones, spotted ones, sexy ones, even the odd grandma ones that hung loosely. And sure- occasionally you’d notice them more rumpled than you remember, or find one you particularly liked nowhere to be found.
But this morning, you’d lugged open your drawer and found—nothing. Absolutely nothing.
None of your panties.
Your drawer was wiped as clean as the day you bought it.
And who better to ask about what happened than your boyfriend? Though the process was a rather lengthy one- these days he’d been cooped up in a room he’d deemed his den. The season was nearing for Nanami to hibernate, to do nothing but stack his den full to the brim, to sleepily float through his days and leave you envious at the fact.
You’re knocking on the door to his den- and when no sound answers you, you’re throwing the room open to find it empty—hm…he must’ve gone out to buy more food.
Still, you hadn’t been inside here too often. Simply leaving your bear-hybrid boyfriend to his own habits until he was done with it.
And perhaps that was why - perhaps - you slipped through the door and looked around the space. It was plastered in cosy paintings, blankets, and carpets, radiating a warmth that always seemed to cling onto Nanami Kento like a second skin. Because of his sleep schedule during hibernation, Nanami already had a separate bed prepared in his den.
And you can’t help but inch over to the inviting thing—it was just so big.
With the silkiest covers and a wide space and- oh. And a strange lump under one of the numerous pillows.
Brows furrowing, you slip your hand inside and…pull out a heap of your panties. Scrunched-up. Rumpled. Used—they were just soaked in all of Nanami’s heady whiskey-infused pheromones, just so addictive that it sends you swaying on your feet.
It was him.
He was stealing your panties-
The front door clicks open.
“My love, I’m home—”
Steady footsteps.
And before you can find an inkling of rationality within you to perhaps stow away your panties- perhaps think up what your excuse for coming in here might be- Nanami Kento is already at the bedroom door.
Lips parting as he stares at you.
At the panties in your hands.
At you.
The groceries drop from Nanami’s jittering, feverish hands- and he’s in front of you before you can even blink. So fast that you think he might have just used magic. So hard that he’s wondering why he hadn’t led you inside here sooner.
The vision of you holding his dirty secret in your hands makes him…oh. Something inside him twitches.
So needy that you’re practically thrown by the whiskey essence leaving him in waves-
“My mate.” Panting out a scalding breath. Ears twitching. Even his voice trembled with something desperate- “So you’ve found my stash.”
You don’t flinch for a single second when Nanami raises an overlarge hand up—cupping your cheek gently. “My mate-” Octaves higher, unsteadier than you remember him ever being. That very same hand gently on your face slips down to choke your throat- “-m’gonna be thinking of your pussy all hibernation.”
You’re not getting out of here alive.
In no time, Nanami has his rugged hands scooped underneath your legs and his buff arms carrying you- dusted with light hairs. Strong. Sensual. As if you were nothing but a ragdoll. He’s throwing you over his shoulder and taking the few steps it takes to splay you out on the king-sized bed.
“My mate.” The blond man husks against your ear, something in his tone sounding as if he was agonized once he slips a hand underneath your skirt. Pantyless—you’d run out of them, of course.
He’s pressing his weight down on top of your squirming body, pinning you down against the blanket-covered mattress. Each ripple and ridge of his thick core-
And then you feel it.
The incredible length of his erection.
As a bear-hybrid, Nanami was just naturally large. So thick.
Your eyes dip downwards and you’re catching just the pinkish globe of his shaft peeking out, a shade that matches the pretty blush on his face. The fabric you were wearing starts to wetten with all the gooey drops of slick that he was leeeeaking out-
“O-oh my—” Your jaw drops at the feeling of something hard and sultry swipin’ down between your pussylips. Just pushing your skirt up your hips, his erection bulges your folds outwards. “Kento, you’re already- mmpf-”
And then you’re having one of your own soaked panties stuffed between your lips. “Shhhh, quiet for hibernation.”
“But-”
You’re hissing at the primal stretch opening up your thighs, blinking back your tears and-
Fuck.
He’s locking your ankles around his hefty waist, he’s letting his hips jerk forwards. “Mmmpf, Kento-” Swabbing his blushin’ globular tip inwards-
“My- ngh, mate.” And just the mere sound of your voice is enough to make him flinch- blond strands of hair falling over his gaze. He’s humping you like an animal in heat—maybe he was in heat already. “My mate-” And you can feel the lengthy girth of his cock slip iiiiiiin and ooooout past your folds, “My—fuck…”
“Kent- mmm.” It was just so difficult to speak past the gauzy underwear gagging your throat. “Baby, haven’t you even realized that you’ve cum?”
Already.
“Hmmm?” His molten gaze tries to focus on you, but Nanami was just so bleary with need that you wonder whether he could properly even see you. You’re jutting your chin out and gesturing at the mess he’s made below- the one that was drippin’ a hot white sheen down your core.
And it’s only then that the hybrid’s darkened eyes widen in realization, puffy lips parting—did he seriously just register the fact?
Lewd leering locked on the place between your legs, Nanami can’t help himself from pressing his leaking cock right between your pussylips. Using his right hand, he claws on top of your stomach and watches as a gooey white sap seeeeps straight out of your hole. Making it look as though you were so overstuffed that you were spilling out.
His balls clench at the heavenly vision, pumpin’ out more and more.
Pumping your hole more full than you could ever possibly handle at the moment, he grits down on his teeth and pushes. Eyes shut. Forehead perspired. “My…my mate.”
His voice fucking breaking as he echoes out that familiar mantra, Nanami sounded damn near tears. “I’m sorry I stole your panties.” Probin’ the entire shaft - entire fattened furious shaft - of his cock between your pussylips and straight up to your womb. “I’m sorry I c-couldn’t help myself- I’m sorry I fucked my cock with those panties—and plan to do it all ngh- over again.” Before you can even answer, he’s pummeling out the deepest, hardest hit to your cervix. “My mate.”
“Shit-”
Globular cockhead swipin’ inside your channel. It makes you see white. “My mate- my mate my mate my mate—”
He was trying to fuck each web of cum inside you like an animal-
Your entire body zaps with an electric orgasm as he leans down- scorched pants breezing down your features when Nanami bites down on the panties protruding from your lips. That strappy fabric now transferred to his own mouth, he’s leaning back and taking it in one hand.
Guiding that very hand down to wrap around his thick cock. As Nanami fucks you, he’s pumping his excess length with those sodden panties.
“B-by the end of this hibernation-” He growls, wobbly. “-yer gonna give me a cub, aren’t you, my love?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Jealous, jealous, jealous
“Negi.” Geto Suguru’s soft, simpering voice echoes through the hallways of the temple. Though the sweetness was not one to underestimate - and Negi knew better than to not straighten up immediately.
“Y-yes, dear leader?” The young man yelps out.
But Geto wasn’t looking at him. All that could be seen of him was his waterfall of jet-black hair—almost like a Stygian river of sorts. Geto Suguru had his eyes turned towards you - as they often did - except this time they were narrowed down at the animated conversation you were having with some newer member of the association. And Geto knew that look in his eyes - just a tad too shiny, his smile just a degree too happy. “By dayfall I should know every bit of information there is to know about that man.”
Negi shivers- he just thanks the heavens that that wasn’t him.
.
.
.
“Ngh—oh.” Mere minutes later and you’ve found yourself in Geto Suguru’s vast chamber. It was one in a traditional Japanese style- and while you’d usually find yourself fucked on his soft futon.
Usually.
But now you’ve deviated until half your ass was dangling off of the mattress, your cunt spilling out in a puddle of your sweet, sweet slick. Geto had his hands gripped underneath your knees and tugging you upwards- a full nelson.
He had you in a fucking full nelson.
And it didn’t seem like he was going to let go of you any time soon. “F—fuck.” Geto’s spitting out through clenched teeth, just the tiniest primal tear from the back of his throat. “One more, right, gorgeous?”
“Suguru, you’ve said that-” Your pupils roll stupidly inside the whites of your eyes, “-all night long.”
Just swervin’ in the same circular pattern with his bludgeoning cockhead. He managed to pinpoint every tender spot inside you and thud away- banging hard and deep. At a pace that your body definitely couldn’t keep up with—“What was that?” He’s panting out. “Doesn’t sound like an answer to my question, honey…”
“I mean-”
“Oops, too late.” He’s smiling- you could hear it. And just as meanly, Geto pours out a trickle of precum that sploshes around inside of you n’ ends up leaking between your folds. It’s just letting out the most lecherous slurp- “One more, right, gorgeous?”
And your jaw parts as if to answer-
Before you’re quickly realizing that the question wasn’t directed at you.
It was directed at your swollen, slippery pussy all guuuulping down every inch that Geto gave. His rough cockhead prods around your inside- easing completely out with a plop!
Before gliding right back in.
Right until the hilt.
And to that pretty noise that escapes you, Geto cranes his ears. “‘Mmm, that sounded like a ‘give me one more’ to me.” He’s tittering out from behind you- and by now he’d already mapped out every inch and spot inside of you. By now he could already tell the faintest signals of your body—
And Geto knew when you were about to squirm restlessly—or even better, when you were about to run.
So he’s hiking his forearms up the undersides of your thighs, arms spreading your legs wiiiide open. Hips rutting up into yours. Geto tightens the way he has your body folded - almost like a ragdoll - and pricks away delicately at the sweetest spots inside you. Thud-thud-thud—
“Where’d you think you’re running, gorgeous?” Geto’s pouting from behind you, mockingly. “Your pussy’s the one that said she wanted- hah, one more. One more round. One more helping of Geto Suguru’s cum- that greedy girl.”
Sloppy strokes that end up bangin’ in your g-spot dead-on. “And you’re the pussy whisperer now?” He wasn’t showing you any mercy- so you couldn’t help but bite back.
“Oho?” One dark brow raises, “I always was good with kitties~”
Two sharp canines find themselves gnawing on the shell of your ear. Unable to move, unable to think—the only thing you can do is keeeeen out as he stretches an arm between your legs and pinches rudely at your clit.
Just so damn needy. Geto counts about one-two-three throbs at that sensitive nub before you’re shattering.
Straight into your nth high of the night that he knew would be taking over you very soon- he’s shivering at the sudden pulses of your walls. So soft n’ wet that it felt like heaven he was funneling his cock into. “Mmm—oh. And there goes your hah, ‘one more’, gorgeous.” He - too - ends up pumping out a few sticky wads of cum.
A slick seed that layers your dewy insides all white. “Sh-shit, how are you still cumming so much-”
“Well, that wasn’t for you.” Such a mean tone that he had - even when he sounded so kindly. Geto urged out something cornered and carnal inside of you that only made you even wetter- “That was for this pretty pussy o’ mine- duh.”
You whine. Bucking.
And he’s chasing those hips of yours riiiight up the softened surface, not letting his plump cockhead break contact with your cervix for a single second. Up-up-uuuuuup. “And she’s telling me that-”
“Oh no.”
“That you can handle three more.”
And you’re not sure whether it’s the sheer shock of his words, you’re not sure whether it’s the fact that his cock was still achingly hard and throbbing between your folds, you’re not sure whether it was simply the aftermath of your high- but your body grows restless.
Squirming. Stuttering.
You’re attempting to plant your feet on the edge of the futon and try to balance your hips- but all that does is make Geto hold onto you even harder.
His voice taking on such a breathy, broken tone. “Running again…” Tutting. “We still have ah- how many was it? Five more rounds to go, gorgeous.” It was three- but right now you’re too fucked stupid to answer anyway.
“I-it was…”
“And besides-” He hums, “Where’d you think you’re going anyway? Actually?”
“Nowhere-”
“It couldn’t be- to him, could it?”
Your tear-flooded lids snap open- when did they even close? And you’re desperately looking over your shoulder, about to ask just who he meant when—oh.
When you see that expression on Geto Suguru’s face.
It wasn’t that faux smile he often paraded to visitors of the temple, it wasn’t even that serene look he got when he was planning some attack or scheme. It was an expression that reminded you that there was a reason why even the most powerful amongst Jujutsu Society didn’t dare say a word against him.
And you’re quickly finding out just why - Geto Suguru was ruthless.
Geto Suguru would do anything to get what he wanted.
He dips his head down and whispers in your ear—low and ice-cold. “I’d say that I prefer if you do not see him again, honey.” A deliberate pause. “But I know that you won’t see him again.”
And then he’s hammering you straight into your fourth, fifth and sixth orgasms yet.
.
.
.
“As you may have noticed, my family, one amongst us is missing.” Geto’s voice was clear and strong - unwavering in both himself and his echo as it reaches every corner of the expansive hallway. The hundreds upon thousands of associations were lined up in neat rows, crouched into bows so deep that they looked like ants from here.
He sits upon the stage like a throne, you on his lap.
Smile quirking at the edge of his pretty lips, he continues- “Now you know that I am a generous man.” They almost seem to flinch at his words. “You know that I share with you my home, my food, my protection, and my blessing.”
A pause.
“But there is one thing I do not share.”
He looks at you, amethyst eyes burning.
“And shall never share.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - PANTY PRINCE
Your phone buzzes with a notification.
Cho (loml): hey baby, i’m deep-cleaning the apartment today including our room. lmk if there’s anything you don’t want me to touch.
Cho (loml): i love you.
You have to suppress your smile in case your professor was feeling especially tetchy today, and you discreetly swipe to your messages.
You: Babyyyy you’re the best <3
You: Nuh-uh, go for it ml. I’ll get you those donuts you like from the shop downtown to make up for it <33
You: I love you.
Your phone buzzes again.
Cho (loml): <333!!!<333!111!!!1!!<333
Cho (loml): sorry tppo.
Cho (loml): *typo.
Cho (loml): meant to say i love you more.
Giggling, you’re content to let your phone sit on your table as you jot down your notes. Getting deep into the slideshow your professor drones on about when-
Another buzz.
Cho (loml): baby i’m cleaning out your panty drawer >.<
Cho (loml): woah baby…when did you get this lacy black set??
Cho (loml): fuck i can see my fingers through it.
Cho (loml): it barely even covers my palm.
You: Hehehe recently. Was meant to be a surprise but oh well.
Cho (loml): fuck.
You: Have fun <3
It’s only silence for a few minutes thereafter.
In fact, you’re just about to resign to the fact that you might not hear from him until you’re getting home- Choso always did tend to get wrapped up in whatever he was doing at the time. And you reach until the end of the class without-
Yet another buzz.
Cho (loml): i’m outside.
Outside? Your head reels—outside outside?
What the hell was your boyfriend doing outside? And you can’t pluck yourself out of your chair and speed down the lecture hall faster, reaching the edge of the entrance before-
A pale hand shoots out and clasps your wrist.
You’re being dragged into the nearest bathroom before you even realize that it’s your boyfriend leading you. His hands jittery. His coat flapping behind him.
His legs stepping frantically before you- thrumming with nervous energy even as he guides you inside the clan bathroom stall. Shutting the door behind him, he stares down at you and gnaws on his puffy pink lips. Choso looked as though he was on the verge of a secret. A confession.
“Baby?” You start, still startled by the whiplash journey here. “Are you alright? What happened? I thought you were at the apartment, why are you h-”
And he doesn’t answer- no.
That’s not why you’re cutting yourself off.
Instead, you’re enraptured by the way that Choso reaches for the hemline of his thin black t-shirt and—tugs upwards. Displaying the shape of his v-line, the beginning of his abs, the scruff of black happy trail that was still visible through your sheer panties.
You freeze.
Your sheer panties.
You could recognize those straps anywhere- they were barely-there and the type of gauzy lace that had patterns on it. Now wrapped around Choso’s toned hips—his cock strained against your underwear. Long and painfully hard.
He reaches up and exposes more of himself to you.
Your matching bra set stretched around his pectorals.
So it was practically a no-brainer once you’d grabbed Choso by the shoulders- shoving him against the thin stall divider. Tugging his pants down just enough for you to take in all of him in those sinful panties, you’re gliding your fingertips down his erection.
Over the thin layers of fabric, that pretty pink tip that peaked just out. Uncontained.
He hisses at your touch, head throwing back behind him and hitting the plastic wall. Not even looking down at you, his hips seem to move before his mind and rub-rub-rub his protruding cockhead between your pussylips. “Sh-shit.” And you swear that what he’s letting out were the prettiest whimpers you’ve heard in your entire life. “Shit, baby—oh, baby, I don’t think m’gonna last much longer.”
“I just put my hands on you, Cho.” You tease.
“B-but I was just so fucking hard all the way here.” Choso blubbers out, sobs crackling at the back of his throat. One hand grabs at the side of your right ass cheek, bringing your pussy down to kiss his cock. The other reaches down—“Because I kept thinking about- ngh, you picking these just f’me. You trying them on—” Down to pump his cock. “Oh, your pussy probably felt so fucking good in these.”
You could feel your cunt throb at the words.
And before long you’re bouncin’ your hips down onto his. You’ve cornered him - easily, because Choso did love to be at your mercy, after all.
The hand furiously fisting his cock reaches upwards to chase your pussy with a whine- rutting his cockhead in a frenzy. Lids falling shut in a second, “And I k-kept thinking about just how maaaaad you’d be at me.”
“Well, I am mad, Choso.” You hum.
Lower lip wobbling cutely, Choso pleads up at you with watery eyes- ones that are nearly bulging out of his head. Because in a single motion you veer your hips down and sliiiiide all his thickened inches inside of you.
You swear he’s the hardest you’ve ever felt him to be- pulsing out the most lecherous ba-dump! inside of you. You tug on the little curls at the nape of his neck, “I’m mad you didn’t tell me about this little liking of yours sooner…”
“W-well, I didn’t know.” He hiccups, puckered tip swipin’ at your cervix. “I thought you’d tell me off- ngh, tell me how naughty I am for wearing your panties.”
“Not just my panties.” Sliding a hand underneath his t-shirt. You’re reaching where his pecs stretched out your poor bra, his chest puffed up and panting. Those perky pink nipples of his were straining against the transparent fabric, and you’re grazing your thumb uuuup and down- “You’re not just naughty- you’re filthy, Choso.”
“Ngh—” He’s whimpering out, hips jerking upwards. That strawberry pink divot at the end of his shaft leaks out in glittering wads of precum that coat your hole. “Baby, and I also fucked m-myself using this panties- ngh, felt so good to rub it down my cock…”
He was egging you on. “Mmm, I take it back then.” Choso flinches at your tone. “Just sinful, baby.”
“Fuh-fuuuuck-” Choso was on the verge of creamin’ himself just from the mean words you were telling him. His rovering shaft was probing into your every sweet spot, the smallest geyser being filled up by his relentless divot. “And I’d do it again- fuck, I’d do it again, baby.”
You’re pulling on his sweat-drenched hair - and it’s enough to make him spray out in his scalding hot syrup. “How did I ever manage to get a boyfriend this depraved, hm?”
“Baby, m’gonna cum.” He whines out.
“Hmm…” You’re reaching behind you and unclipping that bra he was wearing- and Choso lets you shrug it off easily. Wrapping it around your hand and slitherin’ upwards to stuff his pretty lips. “Then stay quiet, hm? Also if you make a mess then you’re buying me new ones, Cho.”
He hisses through his nostrils, “That can be arranged…”
And it’s the last thing rasping out of the poor man before he’s then splatterin’ out hot and deep inside you with all his cum. It’s reaching into every depth, splashing against your walls and cascading along your walls.
It ends up gushing right up to the front of your hole. Leaving a streak of white glued to Choso’s cock and your panties barely containing his cock-
“Oh…” His mouth drops, parched. Tight balls slappin’ your cunt away—“Now it looks even prettier, baby.”
.
.
.
The next time you’re visiting the sweet lingerie store you snapped that black set in, it’s with Choso as well.
He’s trailing in behind you—as though your figure could cover his own, body hunched, hands permanently on you, eyes darting around the store. Even though he was about a head taller than you and two times as more intimidating- “B-baby, maybe this isn’t a good idea-”
“Welcome, madam~” A lovely girl bounds up to you- and you’ve no doubt that the two of you make quite the strange pair. Her eyes flick between you and your boyfriend, “I take it that you enjoyed our piece from last week?”
You share a look with Choso- who only blushes deeper. “Oh, you could say that.”
She giggles knowingly, “And how can I help you today?”
“One just the same.” You hum, “Perhaps in different colors, perhaps some a little more…risqué.”
“Oh, we have just the thing-” Urging the two of you to follow her, “There’ve been some new shipments and I came across one that would look perfect on you, madam-”
“Actually…” You interject, “We’re looking for one for him.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Your Majesty…
It was widely known throughout the land that Ryomen Sukuna was not a shy man.
That was saying the least of it: he was an actual tyrant.
This could be widely agreed-upon by most inhabiting Japan, most of all by the attendants who had the privilege to serve the King of Curses. They would see first-hand the way a mere flick of the man’s hand would be more powerful than the cursed energy of the nation combined, the way the massive estate itself seemed to tremble before him, the way he’d make you tremble…
Though in a different way entirely.
And so it’d come as quite the shock to both well-wishers and traitors when they were brought to mercy before the man’s courts- and would find themselves face-to-face with the King upon his throne. You seated upon his lap.
Your cunt being split by both sets of his shafts, split up n’ down—just baaaaarely hidden by the expensive robes that he’d dress you up in.
The King’s infamous Queen.
Oh, this was his favorite part - this was the only way he’d be able to handle growing through hundreds perhaps thousands of those who come begging for his favor and his forgiveness.
And they’d have a choice- run away or stay bowed.
With their heads lowered to the floors, they’d remain. Trying not to make a single noise or movement that would indicate the heat burning between their own two legs-
Though, Ryomen Sukuna would know either way.
Casting a dismissive glance at the subjects kneeled before him, before he scoffs- “This pussy of yours has some admirers again, brat.” When it doesn’t look as though you were about to respond any time soon, the King scoffs and jerks his hips up to bruise your womb twice. “Ya hear me? Too fucked dumb? Oi—we have guests ya know.”
“Sh-shush, Kuna.” And telling the King of Curses to silence himself?
Those subjects kneeled at your feet aren’t sure whether they’re shivering due to your blatant treason or due to the rough, echoing laugh that Sukuna lets out.
Bouncing his thick thighs up just a little to make you buck n’ whine- “Easy there, woman.” He’s snarling out a smile with both sets of teeth, showcasing those pearly white canines. “ Gonna ruin my reputation, callin’ me that.” And then he’s addressing the rest of the room, “Chatty, huh? She always gets like this when she’s needy- heh.”
“Kuna…” Embarrassed at the blatant stares at your back- but too far gone on his sinful cocks to do anything about it.
One of his plump cockheads swipe against your g-spot and make you arch lecherously. Your hands coming to claw at his toned shoulders with a repeated whine- “Sorry ‘bout her.” Flickering his eyes over to the bowed men, it’s intense enough to make them flinch where they bent. “C’mon, brat- why don’t we put ya in quiet time.”
“Mmmpf-” You’re blubbering out at the scorching breath of his second mouth opening wide.
With a belched chuckle his slick cursed tongue glides down to your pussy- “Heh, we almost don’t even need to- yer fucked dumb as is.” Sukuna’s grumbling from above you—and of course, one of his four hands comes to clasp the back of your head. “But this part’s always so fun—”
“Kuna- mmpf.”
The sets of eyes from the kneeled spectators snap up at the sound of the filthiest squelch they’ve heard in their entire life. Looking up right in time to see the sorcerer’s cursed mouth opening up and slippin’ his hooked tongue between your own lips.
Makin’ out with you.
And Sukuna narrows his eyes down at their abashed faces—shocked. “Look look-” He’s thrusting his hefty hips up to get your attention. “They’re shocked at what a naughty girl ya are, brat.”
Tears stream down your cheeks, “Mmmpf-”
“The only thing you can say, huh?” He snickers, before turning his crimson eyes to the men before him. Their cocks likely throbbing only half as much as his own two were- slippin’ and sliding along your wet walls to hit each spot inside you perfectly. “Proceed.”
His subjects gape.
Sukuna furrows his pale pink brows- though there was a quality about it that made it seem so mocking. “Didn’t hear me above her pussy?” And to their sensual excitement, the King was grabbing ahold of your hips- pausing the squelching tone for a mere few seconds. “Proceed.”
But in the next sultry moments, they could barely even hear their own breaths at just how loud the wettened slap-slap-slapping noise was becoming. Sukuna’s hot, throbbing lengths were almost nothing but blurs disappearing in and out of your tight hole.
“I-I…” The man at the forefront of the bowed subjects starts to speak, eyes ogling the display. “I bring myself before you to ask for forgiveness for the treason-”
“Ah ah-” Sukuna sharply interrupts, “Won’t you first greet your royals?”
“My apologies-” He rushes, “All the prosperity to you, My King. And-”
“And your Queen?”
“And ever-more to My Queen.” All but crying out.
“Well, she’s my Queen.” Sukuna’s grumbling underneath his breath- now with his eyes locked on you and reluctant to move away. You were just the prettiest with both sets of your puffy lips gaped wiiiide open for him, glossed in so many layers of slick. “But proceed.”
“W-well, as I was saying, I bring myself before you to ask for forgiveness for the treason of conspiring with another-”
And this time he’s cut off by you—
“Sh-shit, Kuuuna-” Your shrill voice echoing into each four corners of the throne room, “M’cumming, m’cumming-”
Spit dribbles down the corner of your mouth and makes the King swipe away at the mess with one of his hands. The edge of his own lips lifting up at the thwack! of his ruddied tips against your spongy cervix. Again and again.
Fucking you through your orgasm.
“Heh…” Sukuna’s four crimson eyes crinkle at the edges in amusement, “And whaddaya think? Do they deserve forgiveness, brat?” When you aren’t able to answer- he’s pummelin’ away even harder along your webbed walls. “How abooooout- if you cum again, they deserve forgiveness. And if you don’t cum again, they don’t deserve forgiveness. And if you squirt, m’gonna execute them for treason.”
He chuckles meanly.
Each of the human subjects quiver before this monster.
Because the one thing that no one mentions about the King of Curses?
He was downright filthy for you.
♡ INO TAKUMA - 143
“I love you…” Ino pants out, breath fogging the glass.
He reaches out to wipe away the mist from his computer screen- but actually ends up keeping his palm splayed out upon it. Almost as if he was inches away from heaven and yearning to reach right through it—“I love you.”
And he doesn’t even have the mind to wince as his voice cracks- perfectly in time with the way his hand grows furious on his cock. Pumping long and hard.
Up and down. Up and down. Up and down—
He’s flicking his slender thumb underneath the rim of his slit, watching as his precum spurts out in overtime because of it. But he can’t cum now- he flattens his thumb on top of his shaft. He can’t cum until you do.
“I love you I love you I—” Absolutely botching his tone at the back of his voice, Ino trembles as you start to twitch on screen in that way you did whenever you got close. “I love you- hck.”
And then he’s throwing his head back and cumming right on time as you - in lewd synchronization.
He fucks his fist right through that looooong and aching high, pumping out so many wads of cum that his lap faintly resembles a waterpark by now. It’s dripping down his tannish thighs and creating a lacquer of white that gleams under the glare of the computer- the only source of light in the room.
As Ino comes down from his high, he hears - almost as if from a distance - the sweet tone that was your voice. He could pick out your voice anywhere. “—and I’ll be having a raffle where one lucky subscriber of mine will get the chance to spend a whooooole night-” You lean in closer to the lens, letting it capture every pretty inch of you. Right down to where you’d gnawed down on your lower lip from cumming too hard- “-with me.”
He doesn’t care about the tens of hundreds of thousands likely doing the same right now - and commenting that they were, too.
He’s never entered anything so fast in his entire life.
He’s never wanted so badly to win.
.
.
.
Ino supposes that it wasn’t a miracle that he won (though…it sort of was) considering he’d entered the raffle multiple times. Even going so far as to create fake accounts and type his name into that form.
Again. And again.
And again and again and again- okay, maybe Ino Takuma was just a little obsessive. But what’s a little yearning when it comes to true love?
Either way, he considers all those long and sleepless nights spent entering a damn raffle to be worth it. Aaaaaall so worth it when it comes to this very moment: with you laid out on top of him. Just like in his dreams.
With your hands pinning his toned body down to your bed (one he’s seen so many times in your videos before!), with your hips bouncin’ up and down his cock craaaaaazily. Whatever you’ve done previously with all those curled dildos and hot-pink vibrators were nothing against what you were doing to his cock- slicked with spittle n’ all smooooth inside your cunt, sensitive wherever your walls rubbed.
He was pussydrunk practically from the first thrust inside your gooey depths- babbling away underneath you as you swerved n’ tugged. Wrestling his cock inside of you as you tried to find your most favorite spots-
“Oh.” Suddenly, you’re arching your back with an elongated moan. The prettiest noise that he wishes he could record right now. Your lashes flutter in that irresistible way that always sends your subscribers into a frenzy. “Mmm, I think you found the spot, baby.”
Technically, you were the one that did all the work- but Ino’s happy to nod his head stupidly. “I-I did, baby. Does it feel good?”
“Mhmmm—so good.” And without warning, you’re dragging his palm over to stick against your front. Right above where his blushin’ red tip kept on poking at your cervix- “X marks the spot, mhm?”
“M-mhm.” He frantically agrees.
And shit- he looks so cute with his lips all wobbly and tears streaming down his pretty face. Ino Takuma didn’t even seem to realize just how attractive he looked when he was falling apart on your pussy. Face blushing. Tone ruined.
His thighs giving off the greatest shivers once you cleeeench your sopping wet walls around him.
“I love you.”
Ino’s spit-slicked lips part open with a whisper-
And for a good few seconds you don’t even think you heard him correctly.
In an attempt to hear him better, you falter your rough plapping down onto his hips. You crane in with a gentle smile, “What was that, Taku?”
But the man beneath you merely shakes his head.
Merely scrunches his eyes and lets his throat wrack with a tiny sob- he’s shaking and shaking his head at the first signs of you stopping. Before grabbing either side of your waist and push-push-pushing his pretty cockhead upwards. “I love you.” Almost as if he couldn’t stop the sentence from escaping. He’s not letting you slow down for a single second whilst he scours your deepest innards with his dripping cock. “I love you I love you I—hck! love you.”
And every time Ino shoves the length of his puckered shaft inside you, you can feel it hitting at your throat. “You love me, Taku?”
He doesn’t seem to pick up on the tease, and can only needily nod. “I do. I love you, pretty—ngh.”
“Awww—do you mean to say you love this pussy?” You’re whispering filthily into his ear, watching as the skin of his ear grows red. “Or do you love these hips-” On cue, you’re slamming them down onto his - meeting his sloppy cadence dead-on. “Or do you love these tits—”
“I love you.” He’s echoing out once more.
And it doesn’t matter how red and sensitive the skin ‘round his pelvis is growing, it doesn’t matter how sensitively his ruddied tip feels. It doesn’t even matter how pussydrunk he finds himself on your cunt, because Ino’s always chasing your gooey pussy up for more, more, more-
“I love all of you-” After a few more vicious strokes, he manages out. Gliding a hand between the valley of your chest. “I love your tits.” Down to your waist. “Love your hips.” Down to flick at your clit. “Loooooove your pussy.”
“And?” You ask, breathless.
And he’s blinking his teary lashes up at you, “But most of all I love you.”
There were practically hearts in his eyes- in fact, his pupils were starting to look like hearts. Or maybe you were slowly growing cockdrunk, as well…
You feel yourself clamping down on him- and you can feel Ino twitchin’ even harder. Close.
“Well, whaddaya say to that-” And this time you’re talking - but not to Ino at all. Instead, you’re swivelling your head to the glaring light at your side. Right where your professional camera was propped up, alongside some bright ring lights n’ a wide screen with the two of you.
And the numerous comments.
“-you horny fuckers think he deserves to cum?”
pvssydestroya: omg gooooooooo for it, girl!!!
wk505: nah lol he didnt do shit to deserve it
Zeninheirlol: FUCK HIM LMAO
kusakebab: make him cum, please.
daddycries69 donated 500 tokens.
daddycries69: Make the pretty boy cum <3
“Well, you heard what they say.” You’re beaming down at him with a too-sultry smile.
And he’s almost seeing heaven as you speed your hips up lewdly, just chaaaasing that sweet, sweet release. Though, Ino’s sure that he could cum right then and there at the way you’re leaning down to whisper in a voice just for him. “After this is all over, how about a date?”
“I really do love you.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - “Erm- actually!”
“Shhhh—” At this point you can’t stop yourself from reaching a hand out and physically pressing it against your tutor’s mouth.
It was a pretty one, alright, but you anyone within a five -mile radius would forget anything about Gojo Satoru’s prettiness just as soon as he opened that damn mouth- “Enough.” Your weary voice sounds even louder in your empty dorm room. Late into the night. Textbooks spread out all around you. “You will not be debating me on the g-spot of all things-”
“Erm-”
“Try again.”
“Look, I’m just saying alright—!” Gojo pushes his thick glasses further up his nosebridge. He shakes his bangs out of his eyes, and fixes you with a piercing sapphire gaze. “The existence of the Gräfenberg spot has not been scientifically proven to be an anatomical structure universally present in-”
“But it’s true that there is an erogenous area on the inner vaginal wall, isn’t it?”
“Reportedly, yes.” He’s fixing his glasses once more, one index raising into the air the way it did whenever he was rambling about something or the other. “Though we aren’t sure whether this is an extension of the clitoral structure or a separate network altogether- and that is if the Gräfenberg spot, like I said, is a pre-existing requisite for the-”
“Requisite or not, at least I know I have it.” You’re rolling your eyes.
“And how would you confirm that? Scientifically?”
You…what?
You’re giving the bespectacled man in front of you the most deadpan look in your life- and no matter how many emotions flit across your face in that very moment, it all ends in one single word: virgin.
But Gojo Satoru was a smart man - and so he’s quickly picking up on what he’d just said.
With a pointed cough, he’s adjusting his glasses when he so-clearly didn’t need to. Looking away from you, you could see the way the tips of his ears were burning bright red. “W-well, of course you could study…that scientifically.” Gojo stutters as he attempts to salvage whatever’s left of his dignity, “In fact, you probably have more experience regarding your Gräfenberg spot than- than anyone. Though m-most scientific studies are vetted- but this degree of ah- anatomy is—”
“Satoru.” You’re cutting right through yet another one of his rambles- and he almost looked relieved to be stopped himself. “Do you want to fuck me?”
Gojo squeaks out in surprise—“What- I mean yes—but in a perfectly scientific…though perhaps we should reconsider the implications- however, if you would like to-”
This time when he’s interrupted, it still is by you.
Though not by your voice, your words, your groans of displease.
But rather- by the way you’re starting to tug off your shirt and unclip your bra. And Gojo Satoru is only growing more and more flushed until his glasses looked as though they were completely fogged—“Just shut and fuck me, nerd.”
“I could f-find the Gräfenberg spot in real life…” He’s breathlessly whispering.
“Satoru.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And in practically no time, you’ve tugged down his stupid Digimon sweatpants and urged him to loom on top of you. Gojo’s hands planted on either side of your head, his legs spreading apart your thighs.
Those slender hips of his tremble juuuuust the slightest bit as he leans in- ruby-red erection almost painfully hard. His cockhead bobs as it slides between your pussylips—Gojo’s brows furrowing in concentration. “Sh-shit, remember what they taught you-” He’s whispering to himself. Tongue sticking between his pretty pink lips, “Remember what all that hentai taught you-”
Your head snaps to him, “What?”
“What?”
And it’s the last thing you’re hearing before a sudden jerk of his honed, hungry hips lean in. Before he’s squeezing his thickened cockhead- “Sh-shiiiiiiit—” Octaves higher. Voice breaking. His cock slips right between your pussylips and gives such a tight thrust- “Oh my- shiiiit. Fuck. Oh my-”
“Are you alright, Satoru?” You almost have to hold back a giggle.
He sounds as though he was shaking- in fact, he was shaking. Blushing from the roots of his white hair and all the way down to his protruding cockhead, “This is—oh.” Gojo throws his head back with a moan loud enough that you’re sure you’d receive a noise complaint tonight, closing his blue eyes in pure delight. “This is so much better than the hentai made it seem, sweetheart.”
“You learned everything from hentai?” You gasp.
“Most of it.” He admits, “But why does it feel like I’m the one…”
“The one?”
“I’m the one getting all…pussydrunk.”
And he just can’t help how good you feel.
He just can’t help himself from pumpin’ and pumpin’ his cocktip against you like a madman- pistoning his veiny inches inside you wildly. Gojo places a hand on top of your stomach to keep you grounded to the bed, at least…that’s what you think he’s doing.
But after a few vulgar strokes hittin’ at your spongy cervix, it becomes obvious that what he’s using his leverage for instead is to reach for your softest spot. That favorite spot of yours.
The Gräfenberg spot, as he had put it.
“Anterior vaginal walls…” He’s mumbling to himself, staring so deeply and desperately at the place where his roverin’ cockhead kept on hitting. Hitting and hitting. “About 2.0 inches to 3.1 inches inside based on most studies—”
His heavy balls were smack-smack-smacking away at the very forefront of your cunt, leaving you feeling all raw from the inside and out.
The only one feeling more raw than you being Gojo himself - his glasses kept slipping down his face because of all the tears, snifflin’ out the biggest sobs down his pretty cheeks. It just felt so gooooood that he can’t help but shiver- “Though disagreement persists, s-sexologists believe it is towards the urinary system-” Not realizing. Not even registering in that muddled haze of a brain, nothing but a space for him to memorize just how you slurp n’ suck on his cock. “And along the outer mucosa that should be riiiiiight around here-”
“Shit, you’re close.” You feel his ridged tip drag along your velvety insides. And it’s as if the more determined he was to find that particular spot - the one he was so sure wasn’t proven earlier - the messier he got. “Satoru, how did you manage to get even sloppier?”
Not even fully pulling out by this point—his crowned, ruddied tip was kissin’ away at your womb and push, push, puuuushing even deeper.
He’d go even past your womb had it been scientifically possible.
The sheer carnal pressure makes you clench, and Gojo’s echoing out such a tooootured groan. Blissfully tortured.
“Oh—oh.” Hissing. Hatching out tiny whimpers at the back of his throat, “Even considering the diverse physiological differences, and the fact that it might not even—fuck, keep squeezin’ me like that, my girl.” And it’s almost as if the more he was fucking you, the more pussydrunk he was becoming, the more and more he was babbling away. “A network of erogenous zones that-”
“Satoru-”
“-theoretically ends up with your g-spot being-”
“Shit, it feels too good-”
“-right here.”
Gojo’s hand presses down on your core. Gojo’s cock presses down on your g-spot- just like the cutest button that works to make your body twitch.
The first early signs of your orgasm overtaking you—before Gojo’s mentally reeling through the signals and registering that you were cumming. Just from that. He’s fucking into you as if he hated you, as if he couldn’t get enough of that pretty g-spot he’d just proven the existence of-
“You didn’t prove shit.” You’re spitting through clenched teeth- shit, had he said that out loud? Your eyes widen, “You did…”
And had he said that out loud?
With a crazed chuckle, the white-haired man slithers his hand down n’ starts toying with your clit. “Erm- actually, you’re the one cumming because of this- hah, loser virgin nerd.” He presents you with such a content smile, “So checkmate, sweetheart.”
“Satoru, you’re utterly p-pussydrunk.” Struggling to speak over the constant overflow of moans. It just fried your brain until you almost felt numb- the way he kept on bashin’ your g-spot.
It’s such a long wave of euphoria that Gojo was dragging you through, his slicked cock peeeerfectly shaped to rover all over your walls. Your deepest innards. Your womb.
You just couldn’t get enough of him ending off each rude hammer with a strike there. “But it’s okay…” And he’s lethargically letting you pull him down n’ kiss him on the lips - you could do whatever you wanted with Gojo Satoru by this point, and he’d let you. “-because I’m cockdrunk, too.”
And Gojo had never read, scientifically, about orgasms that just take you by surprise.
But it happens the moment you utter those sweet words- electricity zapping through him as though he’d just been shocked. He’s twitching at the sudden pour of ivory sap from his cockhead.
Pouring and pouring.
Puddling up somewhere deep inside you that he-
“Fertilization can occur between a t-time period of five minutes to several days.” Gojo mutters out half-ruined. He’s scraping his hand across your front and feeling as his erection just plaps! out webbed volumes of seed. More than he knew he’d ever be able to produce in his entire life.
You groan as he fucks each honeyed ounce inside of you- “Yes?”
“Then it doesn’t hurt to have a second trail, right?” He’s pleading with you, “Out of twenty-five?”
Like a damn science experiment.
.
.
.
A call of your name.
You’re turning around swiftly- right before you’re reaching the edge of the lecture hall.
Professor Yaga meets you in the middle of the open space, and once he does he gives you a short but sweet nod of affirmation. “I have noticed significant progress in your knowledge of anatomy and signaling pathways this past assignment.” And though he always sounded like a sort of army sergeant, you knew that Yaga always meant well. “It’s impressive, I advise you to keep it.”
“Thank you, professor.” You’re smiling gratefully, eyes flickering over to a flash of white somewhere behind him. “I’ve just got a hell of a tutor lately.”
And he’s following your line of sight—“Ah- Mister Gojo? He’s the brightest of the department for a reason.” But then a slightly concerned expression crosses his face - as though Yaga himself was having flashbacks to all the ‘erm- actually’ he’s had to endure. “Though perhaps a little…lacking in the social department. I take it that tutoring hasn’t been without its hiccups?”
“Oh, you could say that…” You trail off- and Gojo had reached where you were by this point.
He hovers as though he was trying to disappear into the wall but not make it seem as though he wanted to disappear into the wall-
“But he’s a really hands-on teacher.” You finish off, looking straaaight at the nerdy boy. “I like that.”
Gojo squeals loud enough that Yaga snaps his head over.
♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - 30-year-old Virgin
“Do you need any help with that, sir?”
He shuffles a document, “No, no.” Flashing you a brief but unfairly attractive smile, “Continue.”
“Alright alright…” You let your voice trail off, peeking over the glaring computer screen. Higuruma Hiromi, or should you say…your boss, raises a dark brow in challenge. “Truth or dare, sir?”
“I told you not to call me that.” He sighs, slightly shuddering- was it drafty inside the office?
The midnight air was the coldest this time of year; alert and cutting, like the long hours you’d spent cooped up inside the company building. Combing through every receipt and contract and photograph of what should be a slam dunk fraud case for your client—false, of course. Or so that’s what you were supposed to prove.
“Truth.” That deep voice cuts you out of your work-induced stupor.
“Truth, hm…” You’re tapping on your chin thoughtfully, wondering what other sweet secret to wrench out of your ever-stoic boss. You were lucky that it was just the two of you working overtime - all those morsels of Higuruma being single and being a cat person and once being bullied before he threatened to sue them were all yours. So you can’t help it-
“When did you lose your virginity?”
And at that, you watch the dark-haired man’s eyes widen. “P-pardon?”
“Cat got your tongue?” You tease, “When did you lose your virginity?”
Higuruma Hiromi - the most eloquent man you’ve met in your entire life, the most dependable lawyer on court, a terror with his words - gulps. He looks away. Speechless.
And you’re just about wondering whether you’ve overstepped your boundaries (when did he lose his virginity, seriously—) when he whispers.
Just a whisper.
“I’m a virgin, miss.”
“Oh.”
Oh.
Not that there was anything wrong with that—but with a face like that, and a body like that? You’d always assumed that the ladies and gentlemen and everyone in-between would be lining up for a piece of him. And so you can’t help but wonder…
“Do you need any help with that, sir?”
.
.
.
Two minutes later- perhaps even less, you’re bent over Higuruma’s desk.
A wet sheen down your inner thighs. Achingly needy.
With your tight skirt lifted to expose your lower half, and your pussy drippin’ through your sodden panties. Just dripping.
So damn soaked that he could see it from where he was standing behind you. Higuruma has both hands glued to the sides of your hips, his rough palms drawing lovin’ circles over and over as if he couldn’t trust his very eyes.
As if he couldn’t register it. As if he knew that he was seeing his pretty junior attorney and her just-as-gorgeous pussy. “So fuckin’ wet…” But he couldn’t bring himself to believe it was all real. “S’this all for me, angel?”
“Yes—” You moan, pushing your cunt back against him. Your slit drags down the tight front of his pants n’ snags on his thickened erection. “Give it t’me, sir.”
“Fuck.” His body ruts- shoving you against the wooden lining of the desk. Uncontrollable.
You yelp at the way you’re pushed further up the furniture, important documents fluttering at the movement. “O-oh—”
“Careful, angel. Caaaaareful.” His husky baritone sends shivers up your spine- heightened even more at the ringing sound of his zipper. Being pushed aaaaaall the way down as he pulls his throbbing cock out- you attempt to swivel your head behind to take a good look at him.
Only for Higuruma to bang a hand down atop your head and smush your cheek to the frigid surface. All of a sudden, a lecherous slurp! emanating from between your legs - something thick and rock-hard kissin’ your entrance. “I might be a virgin, but that doesn’t mean m’not your boss still, hm?” He gives the lightest rut—the lightest, and sends your hole achin’ at the raw stretch of his cockhead. “Isn’t that right?”
You’re gasping out desperately, “You’re right- you’re right-”
“I’m right…who?” He’s humming - enjoying this far too much. Sounding so mean.
“What?” Struggling against his hold to stare into those deep, dark eyes. “I thought you said not to-”
“That was then.” There was such a tone of finality in Higuruma’s voice, and his jaw unfastens a little when he feels just how wet you’re gushing out against him. Sliiiiiiding your glaze down his plumpened tip and all the way along his shaft- “But when we fuck…call me ‘sir’.”
And that’s exactly what you’re keening out - loud enough that you’re sure the entire building might have heard had it not been empty at this sinful hour. Because just then, Higuruma swabs his slurpin’ cockhead against your hole and funnels you with his length.
So long. So thick.
Such an incredible primal length that it-
“Fuh-fuck.” Did Higuruma Hiromi just stutter?
And not only was the lawyer stuttering - letting his voice shatter into a zillion pieces at the back of his throat - but he was nearly collapsing his body onto yours. His entire hefty weight resting on your cunt, his fingers trembling wherever they held onto you, his cockhead probin’ between your pussylips and hitting your cervix with a great bang!
Eeeeeeeeasing in. Long and slick.
“Fuck.” He’s repeating like a mantra, like a broken record-player. You hear Higuruma audibly swallow a few times and try to regain his balance-
“Are you alright, si—oh.” Before all his adjusting makes him graze the curvaceous cocktip against your nerves. One of those delicate spots that make you throw your head back and clench-
“Don’t you fucking move.” Higuruma barks out like an order. Suddenly reeling his hips closer and jerking his plump tip against that spot once more- harsh. Sloppy. It’s as if he didn’t even realize he was doing so until he already was. “Actually- don’t do anything.”
“How can I possibly even…”
Pupils blown, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the rapid thud-thud-thudding with his rounded cockhead. “Don’t even say anything.” Almost on cue, his heavy balls were clenching at the pretty sound of your voice. “Don’t even fuh-fuck back.” And you never realized just how strong your boss was until he’s pressing up against you from behind. His ruthless pelvis pinning your restless hips down as he drills into you like a madman.
An utter madman-
“Don’t even fuck- take your panties off.” It was just dizzying the pace he was pounding out already. No hesitation in his thrusts. “Don’t even think—”
A bead of sweat drips down Higuruma’s forehead and ends up splashing onto your back. With his teeth clenched, he’s slithering a hand between your legs and giving your throbbing clit a good pinch-
“Don’t you fucking—oh.”
To make you squeeze his inexperienced cock harder than ever.
And he sounds almost agonized.
Ruby-red tip glazed with all his creamy pre- he flinches away inside you with no warning. Draggin’ inside your walls with the delicious line of his slit, he’s managing to press into every tiny spot and crevice…before simply halting. Not moving his hips.
Not even one bit.
Like there was something clawing at the most carnal parts of him- and just as you’re about to ask Higuruma what was wrong…you feel something hot and treacly fill you up inside.
Your voice catches in your throat, “Sh-shit, did you just-”
“Yes.”
“Just from that?”
“Just from that…”
Though you really didn’t need an answer to your query - because at your innards you could feel Higuruma’s seed splosh! away. Taking over every inch of space inside your cunt and glazing each nook with his ivory sap.
His hand migrates from the back of your head to your neck, pinning your body down further against the mahogany. “Does- fuck, there’s no way pussy feels this good.”
“I mean- ngh.” You babble, mind muddled at the sensation of him stuffing you. Making you overspill. You attempt uselessly to move your hips behind in desire of some friction, “Are you pussydrunk already, sir?”
But he holds steadfast. “No- no, it must just be this pussy. It must just be yours—that’s so fuckin’ unfair.” His voice breaks. His hand slaps down on your skin- and you didn’t think you’d ever get away with going against his orders, did you? Higuruma Hiromi always had been the stern type of boss, always expecting the best from his employees. And that even seeps into his desire right now when he’s shovelling his hips against yours to stop you from moving. Hitting that soft, sweetened target of your womb—hard. “This pussy should be illegal.”
“Oh—” Clawing at the polished wood before you. Allowing the soles of your feet to be fucked inches off of the floor. “Oh my- fuck, sir, I think you’re gonna break the table-”
“So let me break it.” He grumbles, “It’s my table.” Constantly webbing up the back of your pussy with his ribbons of cum- “And you’re my employee.”
“I am-”
“I am…who?”
“I am, sir.” He’s fucking you like he hated you.
“After all-” And you swear you can hear him break out into a chuckle from behind you. “-don’t you worry, angel.”
And you almost dread to hear what nasty words your boss was going to be whispering in your ear. Teething his pearly whites against your sensitive ear.
You have two nerdy boyfriends who just so happen to be freaks - Satoru Gojo and Choso Kamo - and they love to be buried inside you every single day. Lately, you've been so thrown into your studies for the finals that you've been ignoring them :( That just won't work, so they have to make sure they get your mind back on them, right where it belongs - and keep you so full of cum you don't forget to give them their attention!
pairings - Gojo x reader x Choso
warnings - college au, mmf threesome, dp, dual creampies, edging, overstim, lots of praise - good girl, pretty girl, smart girl, oral (m and f receiving) p in v and anal, cum swapping, Choso and Gojo kissing hehe (you taste so good they have to share you!) basically them being cute, needy lil nerd bfs.
art by @ruji on x and @/dewbiscuits (tumblr and x)
This was a commission for nerdy reader/ nerdtoru and nerdchoso hehehe <3 sequel here! 4k wc!
Gojo and Choso are always there to help you study.
Gojo? The sciences. Choso? The arts.
Gojo – physics. Choso – history.
Two boyfriends who just so happened to be perfect straight A students definitely didn't hurt. Yet, even with them, you tended to get just a little bit stressed out when finals came.
It is your senior year of college, so much rides on it. Where your boyfriends are from top families, you weren't, so there was a lot riding on you. Although always reassuring– you love that by the way – a part of you is so scared to fail. So you really throw yourself in it, exhausted and thriving off red bull and not much else.
Well, Choso and Satoru are needy, and you constantly ignoring them just won't do! They're here for you after all, both pouting with their arms crossed, waiting in your dorm for you to get back.
“Not one head pat,” Choso says with a sigh. Pushing up his glasses and toying with his hair, shoved up in a messy half bun. “Not one, Satoru.”
“Tch, not one chance to even eat her,” Choso frowns in agreement. “How long are we supposed to just let this happen, hmm!?”
Gojo sighs again, louder this time, running a hand through his silvery locks of hair. “We need to distract her, get her mind off it.”
Choso grins. “Yes, we do. But how? She’s such… such a…”
“Shh!” Choso puts a hand to his mouth. “Don’t say that, she’s an angel!”
“Mmm, she doesn’t take dick like an angel,” Choso turns bright red, Satoru and him are sort of lounging in your room when you walk in.
Eyes, exhausted – dark circles behind those glasses you take off, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“Baby!”
“Angel!”
“I’m sorry you two,” you walk over and kiss Gojo softly, then brush Choso’s hair back, kissing his lips. “I’m a bad girlfriend, I have no time for a date.”
“What!?” They both are pouting all cute, and your heart hurts.
“I know,” you slip your hands across their faces. “I can suck you both off but then I have to study.”
“What now, you think we will let that happen?” Choso asks, you giggle just a bit at his narrowed eyes. “What sort of boyfriends do you take us for? Think we would ever let you not cum?”
“But I know you all haven’t cum in a few days from me.”
“You think we don’t jerk off to you!?” Satoru demands, icy blue eyes narrowing at you, his big hand gripping a thigh. “You insult us, and ignore us? For what? I can just do the work for you.”
“So can I!”
“No, no, you all can’t,” your boyfriends are not very happy.
You have to ace this final and if that means no dick for the night you can do it, right? Even as they try to tempt you, Satoru’s rubbing your shoulders, Choso is kissing on your neck. You keep feeling just the tiniest bit terrible that you have to focus so hard when tonight you all were supposed to go to the movies.
Satoru and Choso leave for a little bit and come back with food for you, they always make sure you have something to eat. Choso is feeding you fries while Satoru sips your milkshake, hands on your thighs, making you far too comfy.
“You two are the best,” you murmur, kissing Gojo's sweet lips, then Choso's cheek. “Don't think this means I'm done studying.”
“You need a break,” Choso's handing you your drink, letting you sip it as he holds it.
“In an hour maybe.”
“It's late, what sleep will you get? This one is –”
“Don't answer for me!” You stop him before he answers the physics question like he always does. “I have to do it myself!”
“You do not, you're so pretty you shouldn't have to work so hard.” You laugh softly.
“You two will have to go if you can't behave.”
They act right for a little longer, you're yawning and feel your eyes just a little heavy and lidded. Humming a bit and dozing as the words start to jumble in your text books. Satoru's kissing the back of your neck, making you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut, pleasure rushing across you.
“Mmm that feels good,” Satoru smirks behind your neck, his glasses brushing against your skin, hands slipping down your waist underneath your sweater.
“Does it sweetheart?” He gestures to Choso, who quickly drops something under your desk.
“Oh, just need to get this,” he leans down, lips brushing your inner knee, making you gasp out. “Hi pretty.”
“Are you talking to my pussy?” He just grins, spreading them wide, eyeing your panties and moaning, his cock already throbbing.
“She misses me,” you giggle a bit, leaning back against Gojo, Choso’s fingers slipping up your thighs. Satoru pulls your skirt up high, bunching it around your hips.
“You deserve some relaxation pretty girl, you did so good today.” Satoru knows his praise always ruins you, his innocent smile doesn't fool you one bit either.
He acted real innocent the first time you all fucked, he was a virgin after all, but it became clear quickly how depraved he was. Spitting in your mouth, overstimulating you to the point of pain, going round after round until you were dripping his cum all over. He was your boyfriend before Choso joined you both – and he has made Choso nearly as filthy as him, you swear.
But Choso even mid thrust and whole choking you still pulled off this innocent little air, Satoru was a little too depraved at times. When he licks Choso’s cum from your hole and spits it back in Choso's mouth? You both know he's insane.
“Relaxing, you? How?” Satoru pouts, Choso chuckles, his breath higher, earning your cunt sticking to your panties.
“Mean little girl, tsk,” Satoru tugs at your hair at the nape of your neck, making your head fall back, his glasses fogging with your breaths so hot. “I can be easy, haven't I been?”
“Never,” he smirks, you feel a wet, hot tongue lapping your panties, a tongue ring clicking on the fabric, making you gasp, looking down at your other boyfriend, buried between your thighs. “Cho!”
“Mnh, sorry angel I can't help it, you taste s’good,” Your head falls back, thighs trembling on either side of his head, moaning when he laps at the sticky mess again. “You're soaked.”
“I need to study more,” Satoru slips two big hands underneath your shirt, gripping your tits and earning your soft cry.
“Let's study still, every right answer and we'll make your pretty pussy cum,” he chuckles in your ear, that deep sound reverberating in your ears. “Energy, like your succubus energy–”
“Toru!”
“Can it be destroyed?” He toys with your nipples, plucking them between long fingers, eliciting a soft little moan. “Asked you a question, sweetheart.”
“Mnh, n-no it can't,” Choso's tongue licks right between puffy lips, pressing the thin material up into it. “Ah!”
“Good girl,” Satoru murmurs, bending over to lift your thigh, propping your foot high on the desk. “Can it be created?”
“Just um… conserved,” your lashes flutter shut, his lips kissing up your neck, Choso spits right on your clothed cunt, torturing you not moving it to the side. “Please…”
“Thought you didn't want us to fuck you yet?” Satoru is evil really, tongue flicking the shell of your ear, teeth grazing your earlobe, moans making you tremble along with Choso's mean flicks.
“I wish you wanted us too, got me leaking so much pre baby,” Choso makes you gasp at that, god when he talks like that you're always done for. “I have so much I could pump inside of you.”
“Evil men disguised as nerds,” your hips buck towards his face, hands tugging at his pigtails. “Cho please.”
“Please what?” Amethyst eyes are dilated – just a thin ring of color surrounding those pupils. Your breasts rise and fall, Satoru slips your shirt over your head, letting them spill free, slipping the collar right behind your neck so your shoulders are pressed back.
Choso almost cums just touching his cock, finally pulling your panties to the side, exposing your pretty cunt to his face. He moans softly, dying to watch your cunt stretch, seeing the strings of slick hanging and dissolving as he shoves them firmly aside, fingertips brushing against your slit.
“You want to study, remember? Need to focus, Choso don't lick her just yet.”
“Toru!”
“True, she needs to,” Choso licks your inner thigh, drinking the slick there and moaning, ignoring your needy little tugs. “What a shame, she looks like she wants to be licked.”
“You two, I swear,” You're throbbing around nothing, dying for more of those glossy lips on you. “Changed my mind.”
“Not yet, a little more studying right?” Satoru draws out his words, despite the fact that he's leaking against his boxers, pulsing spurts looking at your pretty face, your brows drawing together, teeth catching your lower lip.
“Toru… mnh…” he nips your neck, sharp teeth breaking delicate skin, humming softly, fingers trailing down the sides of your tits, leaving goosebumps all over your skin.
“Need you to answer another question, to pass that test yeah?” You would glare at your bratty boyfriend, but his teeth are sinking into your neck as Choso's are in your thigh.
You nod quickly, swallowing, Choso flicks his tongue low, where the drips are pooling on your ass, licking from that hole to your other, drinking it all up. Your cunt clenches, clit just twitching, jumping for Choso's view, he smirks up at you, lips coated in your slick, exposing your clit to the air without giving her what she wants.
“Question, j-just ask it fuck,” you're looking all needy, all pretty spread for the two of them.
“What’s the formula for gravitational potential energy?”
Your mind goes blank. Formula? You can barely remember your own name right now. You shake your head, tears of frustration and pleasure welling in your eyes, Choso’s licking all around your cunt but not where you need.
“Come on, baby. You can do it,” Satoru urges, his hand stroking your hair. “It’s simple. Mass times… what?”
Choso takes pity on you, or maybe he’s just impatient to taste you fully, smiling just a bit before he leans down and sucks your clit into his mouth, flicking it quickly with his tongue, before pulling back with his lips quirked up. You gasp in pleasure, when Satoru pinches your nipple hard.
“Mass times gravity times h-height, f-fuck…”
Satoru smiled against your neck. “Perfect, you got an A plus, baby.”
That’s how you end up in a full nelson, with Satoru fucking his thick cock into you, feet propped right up in his well muscled thighs, he’s leaned on your bed while Choso is lavishing your clit. You’re whining out when Satoru pins you down, his cock just pulsing inside, pressed all the way to that puffy cervix, bruised from just a few mean strokes.
Choso leans up from your clit, mouth full of you, Satoru eagerly drinks the juices right off Choso’s lips, moaning when he spits it in his eager mouth. You’re left trembling, eagerly kissing Choso after Satoru pulls back, his hands on the back of your thighs, lifting you high while Choso’s fingers toy your clit.
“Perfect, fuck you’re so perfect angel,” Choso murmurs. “Taking his cock so good, aren’t you?”
“Mhm!” You’re nodding eagerly, so close it hurts, watching Choso strip in front of you and unable to touch him with how Satoru’s got you pinned against his chest. “Close, close!”
“Patience sweetheart,” Satoru kisses you messy, the lingering taste of cherry chapstick mixing with your own juices, saliva just dripping from your lips, when suddenly you’re just lifted up. “Hey!”
“My turn,” Choso pulls you off Satoru’s cock, putting you on your back and spreading your thighs. Satoru stands, your head is falling off the bed, perfect position to suck him, just how they like – to watch your throat and your tummy bulge with both of them. “God, look at how pretty you are.”
You flush from his sweet words, feeling Satoru caress your hair as he stands right behind you, Choso on his knees, fingers slipping against your hips. Satoru’s lining up his cock – already covered in you – right with your lips, gently pulling your head further back, hair hanging off the side of the mattress. He’s long and thick, flushed a deep pink at the tip – weeping pearly drops.
“Open up, princess,” he commands softly, tapping the head against your lips, smearing his pre-cum on them like a gloss. “That’s it, wider.”
You obey without hesitation, parting your lips eagerly, letting him guide his cock into your mouth, the weight of him on your tongue hot and warm. You moan, feeling your walls spasming from Choso’s fingers, shoved deep for just a moment, wrapping your lips around him, sucking gently, and he whimpers in a way that just ruins you.
At the same moment, you feel Choso line himself up at your entrance. He rubs the head of his cock through your slick folds, teasing your clit over and over, you would plead for him to just put it in, but your eyes are shut, throat getting fucked by your other boyfriend. You’re arching your hips, earning both of them chuckling – they may be sweet, but they also love to edge you.
“Look at that,” Choso says, seeing your throat bulging, before pressing against your tight hole. “God you’re still so tight, how?”
“Ngh!” Satoru pulls back just a bit, leaning down to spit in your open mouth, before shoving his cock back inside, right in time with Choso.
Choso pushes inside slowly, inch by thick inch, not like Satoru when he’d bottomed out in one go, no he teases you, the stretch from his girth so fucking good. It burns in the best way, a deep, satisfying ache as he fills you more and more, ever so slowly, Satoru going even deeper in that throat, until they’re bottomed out completely.
You moan around Satoru’s cock when Choso slams into your bruised cervix, the vibrations making him hiss. “Oh my… that, just like that, taking me like that.”
They fuck into you like that, slow and steady, until they deviously smile at each other, both pulling out, you go to whine at them, but Choso’s got you on all fours instead, pinning your hands behind your back. He kisses Satoru’s cock right off your lips, precum swapping, his cock gliding back in even deeper like this.
“I wanna see your pretty face,” he murmurs, brushing your hair back. “Go ahead, suck him, pretty. Lemme see.”
“Y-yes,” you kiss him once more, he presses your ass up, cock slipping back inside your greedy hole, Satoru’s lips are parted when you look at him like that, mouth open.
“Don’t even have to tell you, god you’re perfect,” his words are soft and reverent, even as his cock slaps your tongue, tip gliding against the roof of your mouth, Choso bottoming out again.
“Mnph!” You can’t make a coherent moan, not when your glasses are slipping off your nose, which is brushing soft white pubic hair, cock stretching your throat. Choso stills once he’s fully seated, his hips pressed against your ass.
“That’s it, angel, cunt is so perfect,” you’re lost between them, when Choso starts to really move, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in. The force of his thrusts start to push you further onto Satoru’s cock, back and forth taking them, feeling four hands all over your body.
Choso, gripping and smacking your ass, your hands clenching the soft blankets, while Satoru’s cupping your face, holding it in place to fuck faster, testing how much you can take. Satoru’s hand comes down to tangle in your hair, tugging at it so hard tears prick your eyes.
“Look at me,” he orders, voice husky – you lift your eyes, meeting his intense blue gaze, seeing his little smile, eyes getting lidded. “You’re taking us both so good. Such a good girl for us.”
“You are,” Choso shifts his angle as he talks softly, and his cock dragging against that spongy spot on your walls. Sounds of skin smacking and wet squelching start to echo in your dorm, mixed with their soft breathy moans, whispering your name.
Your back arching, you take more of Satoru’s cock, relaxing that throat even as your body clamps down on Choso’s girthy cock, earning his groan, his rhythm faltering for a moment. Both of them are gripping you, gasping out, Satoru’s already pulsing so much pre, slipping against your uvula with every thrust.
Choso spits right on the little puckered hole of your ass then, slipping a thick finger deep. You’re spasming, his balls smacking your little clit over and over until you shatter.
“Our smart girl, cummin’ for us?” Satoru whispers, pulling back and lifting your chin. “Want both of us inside you, baby?”
“Please,” you’re flipped again so easily you’re dizzy, Choso laying on his back, Satoru from behind, toying with your ass more while you ride Choso, hands on his chest, feeling his heart racing.
“Pretty, so pretty,” Choso murmurs, gripping your tits, Satoru wraps an arm around your waist, fingers plunging in. “Did you study enough?”
“Too much,” you mumble, they laugh softly, the stretch in your ass making you suck in a breath, already so full of Choso. “Toru!”
“Not yet,” he murmurs, spitting on his fingers and slipping two inside, rocking them up and down, while Choso just lets you sit on it, rocking his hips up to pummel your cervix with shallow little thrusts. “That eager, baby?”
“Mhm,” Satoru kisses you, his fingers pulling out, cock pressing and stretching her out, you’re so full you’re overwhelmed, gasping out and clamping down on them both.
“Fuck…” That’s both of them, Satoru’s easing in inch by inch, that burn so fucking good and intense your eyes roll back, Choso eyes the bulge in your tummy, hand pressing on it, moaning.
“Cho, Toru… ngh!” Sweat slicks your skin as they both fuck into you, Choso mean, deep thrusts, Satoru keeps it half in, gently moving between Choso’s spread thighs, the two of them alternating speed, having you cum all over them.
“Aw, you squirted for us,” Satoru chuckles, watching your gushing mess pool on Choso’s abdomen, he swipes it off, slipping two coated fingers between your lips, watching you suck. “Good job, pretty.”
You love your boyfriends, it’s all you can think as they work their cocks in and out of both your holes, their huge hands on your waist and hips, using you. Satoru’s toying with your clit, pinching it between two fingers and sliding his cock in deep. “Ah!”
“You can take us, can’t you?” Choso asks, turning your attention to him, cupping your face and slipping his thumb in your mouth, watching your fuck swollen folds stretch around him, groaning. “You like us using you, hmm? Like our pretty little toy?”
“Y-yes,” you’re rocking on them both, back and forth, tits jiggling, they each grab onto one, both starting to go faster. “Close, close!”
“Gonna cum again for us?” Satoru’s husky words are heard through ringing ears, losing all your last fucking braincells of coherent thought, all you can do is feel. “Answer me, be good baby.”
“Mhm, g-gonna cum – ah!” You’re shattering when they both shove fully inside, the thin little wall between their cocks and them rubbing against each other, your walls spasming. “Please lemme cum, please.”
“Of course, you were so good, took us like this? You can cum as much as you want,” Choso whispers, you’re done for, their tips hitting some spots that have you seeing white, gushing all over Choso’s cock, clamping down on Satoru’s. “Oh god…”
“F-fuck, s’tight, you’re tryna milk us,” Satoru’s breath is hot against your neck, picking you up and slamming you down on both cocks now, his hips snapping on the plush of your ass, so deep it hurts, but you can’t stop. “She wants all our cum, Choso.”
“I know, she’s such a good little toy, the prettiest,” he murmurs reverently, leaning up on his elbows, kissing your slack lips, letting Satoru move while he holds both your tits with just one hand, squishing them and eliciting another orgasm when his cock thickens. “Do you want our cum? Want us both to breed your holes?”
“Mhm, mhm,” you’re nodding in a jerky little motion, the two of them keep turning you to kiss them, until the three of you are just kissing, cumming together, Satoru’s load hot in your ass, Choso’s pulsing and warm in your cunt.
So much cum.
They’re whimpering, kissing so messy, fucking all those hot ropes of cum so deep, you’re a trembling mess when they come down, kissing all over you. Satoru your shoulders, your neck, Choso your nipples, your collarbones, your aftershocks spasming and milking them for even more.
“Laws of gravity,” Satoru murmurs, you giggle breathless, leaning your head back against his chest as his fingers stroke your cheek. “Can we defy them, smart girl?”
“What do you m-mean? I’m done studying,” you tease, Satoru pulls out then, moaning.
“Nope, it’s just fallin’ out of that little hole,” he murmurs. “What about her pussy, Choso?”
“Hmm let’s see,” he lifts you up, watching the milky cum fall in ropes down his length, swirling around and pooling in a sticky web against his black happy trail. He chuckles softly, toying with it. “Nope, it’s falling out of here too.”
“Well where do you want it to go, hmm?” You manage to ask, thighs wobbling, holes empty and sore. They flip you on your back, you gasp out, watching the two of them grinning as they lean over you, smirking and spreading your shaky legs. “Oh no, what are you up to?”
“You need to keep this cum in, sweetheart, tsk,” he shoves two fingers deep in your cunt, right in Choso’s cum, and Choso’s thumb circles your rim, slipping his thumb and pushing Satoru’s cum deep back in. “Look you’re so messy, our girl took so much for us.”
“She did, she’s so perfect for us,” Choso eases his thumb out, Satoru does the same, before he’s down there and lapping Choso’s milky seed right from your hole, Choso moans at the sight, his hand entangling in Satoru’s white locks, pressing his face even closer. Satoru moans, cock pressing against the mattress, drinking the salty and sweet mix of you both.
“I c-can’t do more,” you whine out then, but Satoru’s tongue is shoving Choso’s cum right back in, Choso’s leaning over you, kissing your lips, you cling tightly to his black locks, arching desperately.
“You can take more, pretty girl, you’re so good, isn’t she Toru?” Satoru leans up, white and gossamer coating his lips, smiling up at you.
“You’re so good, we just love your cute little cunt like this,” he leans up, swapping cum on your tongue, you eagerly kiss him back, you feel Choso licking your other hole, where Satoru’s white is dripping out, you gasp out at the sensation. “We will put so much in you, so much you’ll drip it during that test.”
“Then you’ll pay us more attention,” Choso looks up at you, as Satoru pulls back, a string of saliva between you both. “Won’t you?”
this one was so cuuute help I need them!
Patreon for more exclusive fics - Kofi link (commissions here)
A/N: princess reader x knight maki, royal-AU... this is a reposted fic with some minor edits since I haven't posted it to this blog... happy belated birthday and happy clan slaughter animated day to maki hehe
Another sigh escapes your lips, one to join the countless others. For such a long time it was easy to delay the inevitable; you’re the fifth in a line of royal sons and daughters, never to inherit your throne, one treaty or gift-from-The-King away from becoming some second-rate noble’s wife and nothing more. With the betrothals of your elder siblings long past, yours had slipped to the back of your mind, your potential marriage becoming something of a “someday” and “eventually”.
At least until some weeks ago, when your father had drunkenly promised your hand in an archery wager. So fickle are the words of men, to leave something so monumental to the whims of the bow and arrow. The death of some poor fowl signifying the end of your naivety.
In another life perhaps you’d laugh over such a thing; you were as faithful to your royal duties as you could be, and kind to a fault. You’d give this man who had won your hand the benefit of the doubt: A man so skilled at archery, a friend of your father’s—what harm could it be?
But in this life, the thought of a marriage pains you. You’d never given it all that much thought, content with your lavish life so far, but at the inception of this sudden and forced betrothal, being a princess is no longer a title you wish for. All because you’ve already given your heart to a woman with eyes like sunsets and a wicked tongue.
“He’s here.” Her voice is sharp, cutting through the warm afternoon air like a reaper’s scythe.
You turn towards the source to gaze upon sunsets, hardened, pointed, authoritarian—as is the nature of your knight—until they soften when they land on you. She would rather lie in a six-foot trench than admit the meaning behind the softness in that gaze. But you’d deciphered it before Maki herself could. You are kind but you are not a fool. Many years in her company have left you an expert at even the smallest changes in her countenance.
“Leave us.”
To everyone in the room—your servants, your ladies-in-waiting—your voice sounds monotone, unaffected. Your ladies are inclined to think perhaps you are nervous and masking it well, anxiety welling up with every passing second as your betrothed waits in the gardens for your appearance. Miwa, as innocent as she is, she’s the first to nod and turn away, picking up her skirts as she goes. Nobara hesitates, suspicious eyes flicking between you and your knight before dropping the fabric strings of your corset in her hands, joining Miwa in exiting the room. The servants follow with less of a fuss, cloaking their stares with timid nods of their heads.
When the ladies leave, Maki closes the door behind them. That smirk that she always wears, as arrogant and flippant as it is, you suddenly feel affected by its absence.
“Princess,” (a title she stopped calling you in private many moons ago) “You shouldn’t keep that man waiting.”
Your eyes tilt to the dagger at her side, a brilliant silver tucked behind dark leather. You can’t see it, but you know the hilt is engraved, golden designs the color of her irises. A gift you’d given her to recognize her ascension to the kingsguard.
When you look down to her side and think of that man in the garden, a violent thought involving said dagger comes and goes as Maki's hands form fists at her sides. You shake it off, doubting you could ever take down a man like Maki could, as you’re turning to the mirror. You lament that you aren't as strong as Maki, in more ways than just physical. Would she do it for you if you asked it of her? You have no doubts she would.
You turn to the mirror, facing away from her. “Lady Nobara didn’t finish lacing the corset. Do you mind if—”
“Not something I haven’t done before,” she says with a step toward you. A joke that would sound smug if her voice wasn’t so meek. It’s unlike her.
You watch in the mirror as she steps closer towards your back, the sound of her leather soles clacking against the floorboards becoming louder and louder. Her dark hair, tied into a high ponytail, sways with each step, brushing against the high collar of her black royal uniform. You’re reminded by the shining badges atop her breast and the crest of her cape that she is a member of the Zenin clan, powerful knights serving your kingdom for centuries. You’ve always been in awe of her, from the moment your father had introduced her as your personal knight, but especially now up close. She’s a hardened knight by training but her features are soft, womanly. You stare at her lips in the mirror for far too long, only blinking away the image when they disappear behind your head, leaving you with only her golden eyes staring back at you from above your crown. You choose to focus on her fringe, dark threads gently resting just above her brow.
"You know you can't delay this forever," Maki says as she takes up the strings. She wraps the ends around both of her gloved fists, pulling at the base at the small of your back. “You’d been unwed for far too long… it was inevitable.”
"Maki..."
Your kingsguard becomes slightly bashful at the affectionate way that you say her name. In front of others, she is Lady Zenin, a Dame in her own right. But in the privacy of your room, when you are away from prying eyes and can be openly affectionate with each other... at those times, she's Maki, a woman without a clan and a title to her name. Simply the woman you’ve come to love.
"Don't 'Maki' me... not now." She laces the strings onto the first set of hooks and pulls, robbing you of your breath. Her hands are rough when they move up to lace up the next set of hooks.
"Are you cross with me?" You ask as she hides behind her fringe. "You know this is above us both."
"Not with you," she pulls as she laces the corset once more; gentler this time. "But... how can I feel? All the honors in the kingdom and I could never win your hand, no matter how many accolades, how much blood is split. Yet, to lose you over some simple game of archery, over some fowl, to a man who's never even—" she stops herself from disparaging a Lord, as lazy and pompous as she thinks they are. Even now, she holds her tongue. Is it out of (begrudging) respectful habit, or is it for your sake? She sighs, choosing not to reveal more of her feelings on the matter.
"Maki... what do you mean win my hand?"
You feel her hands pause. Perhaps it was a slip of the tongue. She'd kissed you before, touched you in ways a husband should touch his wife one night when you were both flushed with wine after a ball—but after apologizing and awkwardly moving past such a transgression, never had she said anything more to you. She’s never hinted at desiring you in ways your stations, and most importantly your gender, would not allow.
"It's nothing. We should," she quickly makes work of the remaining laces of your corset as she speaks, "we should go."
You turn around to face her as soon as she ties that last bow and pulls away. She wears avoidant eyes and flushed cheeks. You wonder if she ever feels that feeling in your chest you're feeling now when you look at her, like this sight of her alone takes your heart into her fist and squeezes. You’ve always had such strong feelings for her, captivated by her honeyed eyes since the day you met, but all the kissing and tossing in some stranger’s bed in the throes of inebriation would have never convinced you of her reciprocating those feelings for you.
You can't help but lean into her. She's struggling with indecision, her plush bottom lip tucked between her teeth. You reach up, pulling it away with one perfectly manicured thumb until her lips are free from her gnawing, perfectly plump below your fingertip.
"Do you mean that, Maki...? That you wish for my hand?"
She places her gloved hand atop yours, taking it into her own. Though her gesture speaks for her, she says nothing for fear of rejection. Because she can take it from anyone, with thick skin and scars as proof. But she could never take it if it's coming from you.
“I wish it were you who could have it, Maki. Wish I could always stay by your side.”
Her eyes widen a bit before they narrow with resolve. Maki’s only hesitation had been the fear that you didn’t feel that way about her. She’d put that guard over her heart, never revealing the depth of her feelings. She's a knight with feelings for her princess, damned to keep them hidden away forever, a sudden betrothal being the only thing pushing her over the edge.
She pulls you closer by the hand, and before you could blink she's kissing you, lips pressing against yours ardently. You watch with eyes blown wide as hers close, sunsets fading beneath beautiful whispy eyelashes and pale eyelids. You're frozen in place as your mind quickly shuffles between feelings of joy and surprise. When you settle on the feeling of lust, of want for her, is when you close your eyes and kiss her back.
"Maki." You say her name decidedly when she pulls away. Her lips, once a soft pink, are stained darker with the rouge Nobara had applied to your lips. You can already imagine the way Nobara would chide you for ruining your makeup.
Maki decides she loves the look of ruined makeup on the perfect princess standing before her.
"Yes?" She asks, the syllables of your name leaving her lips.
"You're sworn to me, are you not? To stay by my side?" She nods. One of her gloved hands finds its way to the small of your back, fingers dancing over the strings of your corset as if plucking the strings of a lute. "Then... if I were to leave, would you—“
"Princess."
Your hands ball the fabric of the coat over her chest, medallions poking your fingertips.
"I know you care nothing for your clan, Maki. And I care nothing for being some prize given away by my father to a noble house in the countryside. So, please? If we get caught... just... say I ran away, that I wanted nothing of this betrothal. That you're just coming along, to keep me safe. Just… take me away.”
"They'll have my head for that, Princess." She says it but part of her wonders if that's a better alternative than to watch you be ripped away from her.
"Mine too... and yet, I'd rather be in your company, Maki."
You realize that tears had begun to fall from your eyes when Maki wipes your cheek with a gloved hand. If only Maki knew how you’d considered this since the day your father had announced the betrothal to you.
"Don't cry." The last thing she ever wanted to do was make you cry. There's a visible sense of indecision on her face, if only for a fleeting moment. After a pause, she utters, "T-Tonight."
"... tonight?"
"You wish to run away, don't you?"
"With you."
"Then, tonight. Under cover of darkness. Okay?" When she sees you open your lips to speak, she knows you wish to say 'right now!' because she knows just how hasty you can be, how emotions are the guide to your heart, rational thought to the wind. So she adds, "You can't leave now, not when everyone's expecting you in the gardens. So meet that man, and act as a princess should. I'll make some preparations. And we'll... we'll leave if you wish." Even Maki can't seem to believe the words she says. But when she's faced with you wanting to do anything to be by her side, how could she say no?
"I do, Maki... if you wish for my hand, then I want to find a way to give it to you."
"Why me?" A moment of self-consciousness takes over. Because to her, you are everything good, everything pure and beautiful. She's watched you for so many years, seen your kindness even when she was unworthy of it. And as much as she wants your affection, she doesn't always feel she deserves it. Even if she would take lives and burn the kingdom to the ground for it.
“Because I love you, Maki." You can hear her gasp, a pretty blush settling over her cheeks. "You’re incredible—more worthy of being royalty than any stupid prince I’ve ever met. Just having you at my side has convinced me of that fact.”
Doubt only settles further onto her features. She looks away, flustered. “But I—”
“Lady Zenin!” A voice comes from across the wooden door at the threshold of your room, followed by a series of three knocks. You recognize the voice: Nobara.
“Yes, Lady Kugisaki?” Maki turns away from you, toward the door. “You may come in.”
Nobara cracks the door open, eyes flicking between the two of you. She sees the state of your rouge, red smudged and existing upon Maki’s lips, and frowns. “Are you ready to escort the princess? Her betrothed grows weary.”
Maki straightens up and nods, collecting her composure. “Yes.”
Nobara removes a handkerchief from a pocket at her waist, handing it to Maki. “Let us leave then. Wipe your lips while I fix her rouge.”
You find yourself laughing when Maki silently takes the cloth, flames burning her cheeks.
After the bore that was meeting a lord and having the most ghastly and tiresome of dinners, the servants bathed and dressed you for bed that night as normal, with the exception of you enduring Nobara’s teasing about the state she’d found you and Maki in. Perhaps it is because Lady Kugisaki shares your fondness for Maki that she finds no fault in your feelings for her. So during the preparations for bed, you’d confided in her that you wished to run away with your knight. And though she knew such a thing was dangerous, reckless—she said no word of stopping you. With a tight hug and a kiss to your cheek as a farewell, Nobara sent away your servants and guards with some excuse about how you’d caught a cold walking in the gardens without a shawl. The truth was you’d forgotten it with the state of frenzy that your mind had been in, but no one needed to know such a detail.
Long after the castle's buzz of you meeting your betrothed had died down and the anxiety began to settle in the pit of your stomach, when there was nothing but the sound of crickets and the wind, your knight makes good on her promise. She comes to you, dressed not in her regalia but in all black, a hooded cloak drawn over her features. She produces one for you, dark in color and long enough to cover the skirts of your ornate nightgown. Being the skilled knight that she is, she knows each secret passage, each dark secluded hall to travel until you make it undetected to the stables, your horse drawn and ready. The air is slightly cold, your breaths making puffs of smoke as you panted, but Maki keeps you warm, pressing you close to her side.
As the thrill of escaping the castle runs through your veins, you wonder why you hadn't done this sooner.
You ride into town on a single horse, holding onto her back as she held onto the reins, your heart racing in your chest. You’ve never done something so daring, but you put your life in her palm, and it feels freeing. The short escapade by horseback further sets in your mind that being at Maki’s side is exactly what you want: protection, devotion, and the thrill of risking your life for her love. A feeling you’d never felt in all the boring years of living behind castle walls.
The distance into town isn't far by any means. Since you were not your elder siblings, you weren't one of the royals paraded around town and touted as the next king or queen. Your appearance, lucky, is therefore not recognizable to any of the guards, hidden beneath your cloak and missing its tiara. Maki, ironically enough, is more likely to be friendly with the guards. But it is easier to make an excuse in her case.
"Lady Zenin," the guard at an entrance point to the town nods, recognizing her even with the shroud upon her head. "What business do you have? You and your…?" the guard makes a pointed look at you. You hold the cloak tighter around your face.
"What business is it what I do in my free time?" Maki barks. The guard looks between you and her again, eyes drifting down to the arms you have wrapped tightly around Maki's midsection. When he looks at Maki again, he swears there is a dusting of pink across her cheeks.
"Ah..." he nods. Smirks. "Apologies, Lady Zenin. Enjoy your lady of the night, she sure is pretty."
If Maki weren't so concerned with concealing you, she'd jump off this horse and gauge out his eyes for calling you a common whore, for looking at you as if you were beneath him. You hold her closer, stifling a giggle.
“You saw nothing,” she huffs from between her teeth. “If you breathe a word of this—I’ll have your tongue.”
The guard knows from the disgust in her voice that her threat is no jest.
“Yes, my lady.”
You and Maki continue on horseback until the far end of town. She ties the horse to a stable outside of a lone inn, far from the crowded sections of town. She takes some time to remove the royal regalia on its reins, hiding it beneath a pile of hay. To any onlooker, her horse now looks just as dressed as a common man’s horse.
“Will this work?” You ask her as she dusts the dirt onto her dark pants.
“We’ll have to hope so,” she replies, pulling you closer to her. You know very little of this town, but Maki had explained the plan to you as you rode on horseback: this inn is run by someone she knows, the innkeeper being a man she trusts. In the morning, when the castle has discovered you’ve gone missing, the royal guards will search the crowded section of town, giving you time to press on. She is certain that the innkeeper will keep you concealed and trusts this as a place to rest for the night.
And you trust Maki’s judgment more than anyone in this world.
When the innkeeper first shows you to your room, it's so quiet you could hear the crackling of the fireplace at the end of the room just as loudly as your breathing. There’s only one bed in the room, a carved wooden frame supporting a bed smaller than the one in your bedchambers. You turn to Maki and see that her face burns at the sight.
“I can rest on the floor...” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and turning away.
You never pinned her as a fool until now.
You turn to her, reaching up to pull the hood of her cloak off her head. Dark tresses frame her rosy cheeks. You wonder if Maki looked this bashful the first time you kissed her, and mourn that the memory is so hazy.
“Lay with me, won’t you, Maki?”
She looks at you conflicted. On one hand, it’s quite late now, and she thinks you need your rest to continue your journey. But on the other, she really wants to fucking kiss you.
When you push back her hair and smile, her heart decides on the latter. She leans in to kiss you and at first, she’s shy. You can feel the restraint, the way her soft breaths against your lips turn staccato each time you push against her. But you know Maki at her essence is not shy—she’s like a burning flame, raging and all-consuming. You know she just needs a push.
So you push her, hands pulling the cloak off her shoulders as your tongue swipes across her bottom lip. She makes a sound, something like a hum or a squeak, surprised. When had her princess turned so daring? So Maki dares to push you too, hands reaching up to cup your jaw as you cling to her shoulders. With each touch of your lips, you can feel her quickly gain the confidence she was missing, her kisses becoming more forceful and wanting as she continues to steal your breath away.
One of her hands, as if on a will of its own, finds your waist. You gasp when your chest is pressed against hers and the sound startles Maki, bringing reason back to her clouded mind.
“I think…” she starts, staring at your lips, glossy with her kiss, “I think you should rest, before—”
“Before what, Maki?”
“I won’t be able to hold myself back,” she replies, honeyed eyes asking for assurance. “I don’t want to make that same mistake twice.”
“Mistake? The only mistake was pretending it didn’t happen. Pretending I’d forgotten. I should’ve just told you my feelings then, Maki. And I should’ve told you… just how badly I want it to happen again.”
She says nothing more then, the final set of protests dying with another kiss.
You were never much for religion but you count yourself blessed tonight, because, for the third time in your life, you get to see Maki bare before you.
The first was innocent enough: After a long day of journeying to visit one of your elder sisters, who’d gone and married some prince in a province quite far away, you invited Maki to rest in what was something foreign to you but common in that province: an outdoor bathhouse. Curious about the experience that your sister had raved about, you’d settled into the hot springs wrapped in cloth to hide your shame. But Maki had none—opting to forego the cloth and enjoy the bath without any barriers to her skin. And though you were mortified to realize that in that moment you were looking at Maki’s body, it was something of an awakening for you. The moment left you so ashamed you could not even hold Maki’s gaze the rest of the night, tossing and turning once alone in your chambers, plagued with thoughts that were unseemly for a princess destined to be a man’s bride.
The second time was the first time you’d ever put such lecherous thoughts to action. Sneaking away from a ball, inebriated and clumsy, Maki found you in the castle's dark halls tripping over your feet. Her mind clouded with quite a few cups of wine herself, she’d walked you back to your chambers with an arm around your waist--to hold you up from falling, of course. You’d said something to her about the pretty flush of her skin, though neither of you remembers it now, and when you refused to let her leave your bed she hastily returned whatever affections you gave her. You told her she was so beautiful (she was) and she told you you were too drunk (you were) but that didn’t stop you. And you kissed her, kissed her until her dark robes and your lovely blue dress were in a pile on your bedside and her skin looked ethereal under the cover of moonlight. She touched you in a way you’d never been touched before and you pretended to forget the next morning, when Maki was dressed and avoidant and apologetic and all the things you didn’t want her to be.
But tonight, this third time you see her as she is, she’s everything you want her to be. She’s kissing you not with shyness but with a frenzied passion, like her lungs ached for your breath. She’d taken you to the bed, peeled off your cloak and nightwear, and told you just how long she’d waited to have you again. With your head surrounded by feathered pillows and a curtain of her dark, silky hair, you finally felt as if you were in her world, in her grasp. Her tough, worn hands kneaded the softness of your sides as your insides throbbed, yearning for her the way women shouldn’t yearn for each other.
But you do, you tell her you do.
“Maki, touch me,” you plead to her, a string of saliva between your kiss-bitten lips. Your voice and your eyes are desperate and it makes Maki smile.
“Where do you want me to touch you?”
Your knees at her sides unwillingly part from her skin, dewy and hot. You open yourself up to her, your hand reaching between you to guide hers. You don’t even take your eyes off of each other, going by feel alone. You let her part your folds, to feel how wet you are for her.
“Here, Maki. Please.”
“Mm, not yet, Princess.” She shifts her body, straddling a thigh and placing one of her knees just between your thighs. You feel her skin press against your core, barely soothing the ache. “If we get caught tomorrow… or if this is a dream… then let me savor it, yeah?”
You smile at the smirk that dances on her lips. The Maki that you love—that teasing, playful woman who adores you more than she will ever say aloud—you let her have her way. She launches what feels like a full-on attack on all fronts, kissing your neck as her fingers squeeze your breast. She rolls a nipple between her fingers, teasing you mercilessly. You move your hips, helplessly grinding against her thigh to soothe the need you feel, drenching her thigh with your arousal. She leans over you, to kiss you again, and you moan in sync—she’d found just the right position for you both to grind against each other’s thighs.
What you feel becomes almost instinctual, then. The sounds of your moans, the lewd wet sound of your folds rubbing over her thigh, they only fuel Maki’s need to do the same, to shamelessly use you for her pleasure too. It’s like a push and pull, the way you take turns kissing and grinding onto each other. Maki stops, forgoing her pleasure as your moans get more desperate, your movements more pointed as your clit catches on her knee.
“Maki, Maki, Maki,” you’re calling her name again and again, the sound driving Maki absolutely insane. No one ever calls her by her name, simply by her title, by her clan name. It’s special, coming from you, and the way you say it now makes her realize she never wants to hear it from anyone else but you again.
“Let go,” she coos, kissing your cheek. When your jaw drops and your body starts to tremble she says, “Just like that,” She’s practically leaking onto your thigh when you gush on hers, drenching you both in your seeping arousal. Maki tells you she wants to taste, and before you can tell her no, that you want her to feel good too, she’s already got her face between your thighs. She spreads them wide, watching as your glistening hole twitches for her. She kisses you, opened mouth to your thighs and your sex, tasting the slick that coats your skin.
“You’re so pretty down here, Princess.”
“Don’t be so vulgar, Maki,” you laugh.
You look down, meeting her gaze, feeling a heat crawling up your skin as her smirking lips close around your clit. Your thighs instinctively squeeze around her head but she pushes one away with her hand.
“It isn’t vulgar if it's true,” she says, her voice low as she uses her free hand to pry your lips apart. “I would’ve never agreed to do this—to leave the castle, to do something so reckless. But if it means I could be with you like this as much as I wanted… I’d risk my life for you,” she admits, your name dripping off at the end, her voice sweet like honey.
“Mak—ah, Maki,” you raise an elbow to cover your flaming face as Maki sucks on your clit. She sees your other hand, your fingers clutching the fabric of the bedding beneath you, and she knows she has you. She’s moaning into your heat at the tangy sweet taste that hits her tongue, and a giddy excitement washes over her at the thought of how you’ll react if she adds a finger.
“Does it feel good, Princess?”
“Y-yes!” You’re practically arching your back when you feel a finger teasing your hole, your breathless pants accompanying the squelching sound that ensues. “I love this Maki…” you admit in a pleasure-induced haze.
She only sucks your clit harder, pushes her finger in further, her gaze captivated by the way you arch and shudder. When you were inebriated, she’d done some version of this—sloppy, hesitant, and unsure despite being laced with want and need—but this time she takes what you give her so eagerly, confidently. She adds a second finger, pumping into you with each flick of her tongue against that sensitive nub, and your whole body tenses when her fingers hit a spongy spot inside you. You moan, mouth agape, and she knows that's your spot, grazing over it with her fingertips repeatedly until your thighs start to clench. Pleasure overcomes your body in waves for the second time that night, your teeth gnawing on your lips to keep a loud squeal from waking the whole inn. Maki moans when she’s hit with another gush of your release on her tongue and her fingers, drinking down everything you give her. When your walls stop pulsing around her fingers, when you start to whimper from overstimulation, she pulls away from you, her face wet with your juices. But you make no sign of protest when she comes up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on her lips.
She looks down at you affectionately, even with your body covered in sweat and smelling like sex. She’s the only one you’d ever trust with your life, let alone seeing you like this. You hold her close to you, arms around her neck, plastering her body to yours as you wrap your legs around her waist.
“Maki, what about you?” You whisper, breathless.
“I wanna watch you do that one more time… that alright, Princess?”
“Mm, I don’t know if I can take any more Maki…”
“I know you can,” she says, pulling away from your body to pry your thighs apart. “Let’s try this.”
You’re unsure of what she’s about to do, and you watch her with surprise as she slots herself between your thighs. Her weeping cunt, still begging for release, grinds against yours. The sound that comes from your bodies rubbing together makes your face burn because when you look down at where you are connected, it almost looks like she’s thrusting into you, like she’s truly making love to you.
“Maki,” you pull her closer again, your chests pressing together as she grinds against your hips. “Maki you’re amazing.”
Butterflies swarm her stomach at your praise but she can’t manage a reply, biting back a moan as her clit catches on yours. You don’t mind—you can tell simply by the warmth of the sunsets in her eyes that she means to say the same. She kisses you, swallowing your moans as she rocks against you, as her sensitive nipples rub against your chest. Your hands reach down, grabbing onto her thighs, keeping her right where she is. Your body’s feeling that high again—a third orgasm coming quickly as her skin rubs against that sensitive little nub over and over again.
This time she’s coming along with you, chasing that feeling desperately as she moans into your mouth. And when you both cum it's messy: sweaty, sticky, and wet, punctuated by a spent whimper from you and a relieved moan from Maki against your neck. She knows she’s heavy, her body all muscle, so she lays down beside you, labored breaths the only sound in the dead of night.
“Maki,” you whisper, once you can manage to speak and the haze of your orgasm clears.
She says your name like a question, her voice soft. Raspy. It's not princess this time, but your name—your real name—and it makes your stomach flip on itself.
“Do you really think we could get away with it… that I can stay by your side like this? Or was I being foolish asking this of you?”
She loops an arm around you, and you settle against her shoulder. Just the close contact eases the nerves that return, now that you remember that daybreak is but a few hours away.
“I think the only time either of us have been foolish,” she whispers, “is waiting this long to try.”
Broski i have been thinking about waitress!reader and sukuna!linecook or smth like that all week. Do you have any thoughts to offer? (If this sounds too close to a request no stress!! I was more just wondering if you had any fuel to the fire ☺️☺️☺️)
omg... linecook!sukuna who's supposed to be focusing on the food in front of him, but whenever you have a shift? he can't help but peer out the open divider between the kitchen and the restaurant floor to stare straight at you... he's burnt a few cuts of meat from shamelessly staring at your ass while you run the food he'd prepared.........&3&39:9:9
linecook!sukuna who yells at all the other food runners to hurry the fuck up, when they're being slow, but when you come along with your cute little apron and nicely done hair? he turns up the chivalry meter and starts offering you chips and a ride home after your shift..... not caring if it takes you ten seconds, or ten minutes to deliver a plate of bolognese.
linecook!sukuna who gets jealous at how you talk to the diners. your voice so sweet and accommodating, god, he wishes you'd talk to him more often so he could experience the sweet fruit that was your kind word.
linecook!sukuna who waits for you after you shift and makes good on his offer, opening the door to his truck for you as you gently slip inside.
linecook!sukuna smiles as you make small talk with him, asking about his life, what he likes to do in his free time, if he had kids, if he had a wife.... the last two questions were a no, to your delight. and linecook!sukuna didn't know how eager that'd made you. a hot, older, available guy? sign you up.
linecook!sukuna who goes feral at the way your hand starts to creep up his thigh as he's driving. you're spewing the soft words he'd just dreamt of hearing, but accompanying such words was a cheeky palm that was inching closer and closer to his throbbing cock.......&;&:82929/@/@i? RAGHHHHH
linecook!sukuna who swerves over to a secluded part of the curb when your fingers begin to fiddle with his black leather belt. he rips off his seatbelt and leans over the passenger seat to smash his lips against yours, his hand flying to your throat to keep you nice and still.
linecook!sukuna who somehow manhandles you into the backseat, takes a fistful of your hair, and makes you look up at him.
linecook!sukuna who spits that, "if you're gonna act like a teasing whore, you should learn how to take dick like one."
is this self indulgent because when i was a waitress in highschool i had a crush on a line cook? maybe. but he turned out to be a weird druggy so like... glad i never persuaded that.
⤷ SUMMARY: Five times CEO!Maki absolutely did not care about her new girly secretary (and the one time she did)
⤷ TAGS: CEO x Secretary, Pining, Jealous Maki, Girly!Reader, Pick Me Behaviour (don't hate me she gets better!!), Maki is Bad at Feelings, Eventual Smut
toji just wants to get home from his long, grueling shift at the construction site and be inside his girlfriend.
he doesn’t care about dinner, or the ache in his back and legs from standing and operating equipment all day, or the grime still sticking to his skin, he wants the mindless relief of filling you with his heavy cock, then his seed after, again and again until he’s satisfied.
tonight though, just his luck, you won’t shut up about some inconvenience in your day. you drop into his lap after he slumps down on the couch, continuing on and on about professors, essays, how hard it is to manage school and your friends…
your lip is trembling like you’re about to cry over literally nothing. toji stares at you with mild irritation. he doesn’t even bother pretending to listen. you’re so goddamn pretty, tiny legs poking out of your little shorts, hair falling in your face while you huff and puff about college like it matters.
he drags one big palm down his face, then takes it and slaps it over the fat of your ass. “no more whinin’, brat.”you squeal and bounce in his lap, sending delicious friction over his bulge. “toji! i wasn’t finished-! “stop fussin’ and sit on it,” he grunts, already unbuckling his belt, lazy and heavy-handed. he lets the metal clink against his thighs. he unzips himself next so you see the outline of him straining in his grimy boxers, thick and half-hard already.
you stare at the swell of his cock underneath you, cheeks going pink, and he grins. that stupid, distracted look on your eyes is what he initially came for, and now he’s got it. you’d just wasted time with your complaining. he’ll be pleased to listen to you after he’s done emptying his balls in your womb. “go on,” he drawls, spreading his legs wide on the couch, leaning back. your little hands are shaky on the waistband of his boxers, fumbling at the buckle while he stays sprawled back, head tilted. you tug it off, lips parting at the outline of him that makes saliva gather at the corner of your mouth from anticipation.
you’re biting your lip as you peel down his slightly sticky underwear, and there, his fat cock slaps up against his stomach, swollen and flushed from being pent up all day at work. it rests heavily upright, twitching for attention. “quit starin’ and get on,” he orders, voice lazy but sharp. he doesn’t move an inch, or help guide you. you ease onto his lap, hands braces on his shoulders. he’s so huge and wide, and as you slip off your shorts and pull your panties to the side to push your slick cunt onto the blunt head of his cock, your eyes flutter shut.
he grabs a fistful of your hair and forces you to quickly open them back up. “uh-uh. eyes on me, brat.” he growls. “wanna see how dumb you look tryin’ to fit it.”you sniffle, embarrassed, but line yourself up, rocking your hips until the thick tip presses into your hole. it’s already too much, stretching you with just that, and you freeze up with a gasp.
he tugs your hair again, impatient. “cmon. don’t waste my time. get it in.”and so you do, sinking down onto him with a little cry, your pulsing walls fluttering around his shaft to accommodate to each inch that stretches you out. he watches you intently the whole time, fixated on your scrunches brows, watery eyes, and the way your mouth hangs open like you’ve already gone stupid, and he’s not even halfway in.
you grip his shoulders and try to take more. “ ‘m trying, toji… ‘s just… r-really swollen up today hic,” you keep going desperate to not disappoint him. you keep easing yourself down further until you’re stuffed so full that a little bump forms in your tummy where he is. and by the time he’s fully sheathed in you, you’re trembling in his lap, drool clinging to your bottom lip and stringing onto your chin.
toji finally exhales, groaning with relief at being buried inside his girl. it feels heavenly, just what he was fantasizing of the whole day. tight, warm, small, and wet. absolute perfection. he doesn’t move, though. he wants you to fuck your frustrations out so he can have you nice and pliant for when he makes love to you later.
toji lets you sit there, impaled and twitching, his cock pulsing you while he strokes his thumb over your spit-slick chin. “look at that,” he rasps. “took you forever to get it in, and you’re already fucked dumb.”
you cling to his shoulders, starting to move in uneven little bounces, just a few inches up before you fill yourself back up with his cock, a wet slap of your cut hitting his pelvis. toji watches your tits jiggle in your little tank top, thankful you don’t wear a bra around the apartment. his eyes then flick down to the outline of his cock pushing against her lower stomach. “keep goin on and on,” he drawls, squeezing one tit in his rough palm. “don’t even know what you’re whinin’ about anymore, huh? day at school, or the cock splitting you in half?”
you shake your head, babbling. “’s too much, toji, it’s too-”he cuts you off with a sharp slap to her ass, the sound cracking in the small room. “didn’t ask if it was too much. keep bouncin’ that ass’.”
you sob and bounce harder, cunt drooling down his length as you struggle to lift yourself and sink again, over and over. each time you manage to get a little higher, the drop back down makes you cry out like you’re stuffed, and toji groans deep, tilting his head back, enjoying every second of it.
“fuckin’ look at you,” he mutters, thumb pressing into the bulge in you belly, making you squeal. “big college girl, huh? what’re those classes worth if you’re just sittin’ here droolin’ on me?”your mouth falls open wider, spit dripping down her chin as you bounce faster, chasing his praise even while he mocks you.
you’re delirious, whining every time you drop down and take him all the way, walls spasming around him like you’re already about to cum. “should knock you up so you stay at home all day instead of bothering with those fuckin’ classes.”
toji cups your face with one huge hand, fingers pressing into your cheeks until your lips squish open, forcing you to look at him with glassy eyes.“there she is. can’t even keep your mouth closed, huh? just wanna slobber everywhere while i fill you up.”
you nod frantically, licking at his finger with want until he slides two of them into your mouth. when you clamp down on him particularly hard with delight at his thick fingers swirling around your tongue, he moans and throws his head back, his free hand grabbing at your hip to force you down.
“fuck, i’m gonna cream in this hot little pussy, y’hear me? shiiiitt” hot cum floods your womb in masses, painting your walls and sticking to them in creamy globs. it’s so much that you can’t bounce anymore without it sloshing out of you, and so he stops you, wanting to keep you plugged up. part of him hopes it’ll take.
see more in my jjk masterlist
see more in my main masterlist
reblog and leave a comment to keep the fic alive if you enjoyed it!
pathetic fratboy!gojo can't bring himself to delete his ex girlfriend's nudes ·˚ ༘ || 18+
to be fair, it's not like he didn't try.
many a night he'd spent sprawled out on his metalgreymon bed spread, meticulously scrolling through his camera roll and selecting the tens, if not hundreds, of pretty nude photographs he'd accumulated throughout the relationship.
he'd manage to begrudgingly press the delete button, watching as your familiar face disappeared from his timeline. he'd shove the menacing phone into his pocket, then let out a very horny, very loud, very frustrated groan into his pillow.
"you can do this, satoru!" he'd often hear choso sing from the other side of the thin wall, bless his heart. choso was one of gojo's closest, non asshole-ish friends. he'd told him all about his struggles with you and his camera roll, and choso was always supportive. although, his encouragement through the plaster depleted soon after the third or fourth time.
how do you 'fail' deleting photos, you may ask? well, gojo wasn't too sure himself.
one second he's got you scrubbed clean from his phone, then the next? he's heard some dumb rumour about how you'd been getting frisky with those fuckwits toji and sukuna at beta theta phi.
after preaching to himself for weeks that he 'didn't need you anymore', he was suddenly extremely sexually frustrated.
the homestyle porn in his recently deleted never looked better then when he was jealous and needy.
he knew how morally wrong this was, especially since you had absolutely no clue. you were most likely under the assumption that he'd deleted them the second you'd separated. hell, he's sure you'd quite literally murder him if your knew, not that he wasn't into that.
but still, he knew how sad this was. you were probably out there living your best life while he sat in the frat, ignoring parties, denying invites, to sit upstairs and fuck his fist to the ghost of his cute little ex lover.
i mean, how could he help himself? after all, you were that girl. the kind of chick all the guys wanted to bang and all the girls wanted to kill. you were hot shit, and he lost that.
a loss he'd mourn for forever, it'd seem.
the only thing closest to having you back was the copious amounts of less than appropriate material on his drive. so, you'd best believe he was using and abusing his stash relentlessly after the breakup had really sunk in.
one time, about five weeks after the split, he'd sat awake late into the early hours of the morning just staring at a particular picture.
after he'd slipped his aching cock from his sweats, pumping the base in preparation at the sheer thought of touching himself to you, he'd accidentally stumbled across a gem he'd since forgotten about.
it was of you, sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed between his thighs, your arms on either one of his legs as you looked up sweetly at him behind the camera.
this photo was definitely his new favourite.
those gorgeous lashes, your beautiful skin, the way your smile looked so utterly joyous, so genuine, absolutely his in that moment of bliss.
you weren't doing anything risqué, you weren't posing particularly provocatively, you weren't dressed in that black lingerie he liked so much, no.
it was the way you weren't looking into the camera, but at him instead, completely disregarding the device you'd once loved to pose for.
that's what got him.
that's why this was his favourite.
how his usual pathetic yank sesh turned into a pity party was beyond him. but he knew that in his heart, he'd never felt more lost than he was right now. staring back into a memory where he had you, completely, all to himself.
god, he'd thought about calling you about a bajillion times after that. thought about apologising profusely for all the heartache he'd subjected you to during the relationship, that he'd been seriously reflecting on himself these past few months and that he'd do better this time, not fuck everything up.
he'd do anything to get you back, whether that took him almost three months to fully figure out was besides the point. he wanted you, and he'd be damned if he didn't try every option at his disposal to woo you once more.
~
"hey... uh, y/n? y' home?"
your house, by the way, was the most obvious option in gojo's mind.
"gojo? what the fuck?" you're peeking through the crack in your door, looking up at this sorry excuse of a man.
with his tight white beater and array of glimmering facial piercings, you couldn't help but stare a little. suddenly being flooded with a million reasons why you'd liked him in the first place.
"can we... talk? i've got a lot of shit to unpack with you.. i'm gonna be honest."
"so that's what i am now? a fucking therapist? get the hell off of my-" he cuts you off with a sorrowful, serious sigh.
"please, baby. i promise i won't waste your time." he pleas with a gentleness you'd forgotten how much you loved.
you hated how easy you were for one ridiculous look on his dumb, fratty face.
"god, i hate you." you groan, pulling the door open to let the boy you'd known so well inside.
"i'm not fucking you, by the way." you add bitterly, despite the heat pooling between your legs at the way he completely dwarfs you as he steps besides you.
summary. there's a masked serial killer on the loose. you're invited to a halloween party. what could go wrong?
spoiler: everything.
tags. ghostface!choso, smut, p in v, dub-con, little to no foreplay (sorry), blood, knife play, big dick choso, unprotected sex, dirty talk, degradation, a little belly bulging, choso puts the hot in psychotic basically.
word count. 3.9k
note: this is an edited version of my original work, i've added a few details and corrected some mistakes. i hope you enjoy it!
also on ao3
It was a really, really bad decision.
I mean, going out to a Halloween party? When there’s a serial killer on the loose waiting for his new victim?
Yeah, no thanks.
Rejecting that invitation and saving your ass from getting slashed would be a no brainer. The sanest decision to be ever made by anyone. But why does saying no to your friends seem way worse than that? Has your life actually got to the point that the risk of getting murdered is more preferable than social rejection?
Well…yes, and that’s why you agreed on attending this party.
Your eyes set on the news broadcast playing on your television. A new victim of the Ghostface found stabbed to death in town.
Ghostface. His name was all over the news, the newspapers and the internet this past month. The people gave him that name after some witness testimonies came out claiming to have seen a ghostly white screaming mask and a black cloak. The police even found a mask left behind in one of the crime scenes, confirming his appearance.
He had already killed five people this month, nothing linked them to each other beyond the way they were murdered. The authorities said that he likes to stalk them before he goes after them, just for the thrill of the hunt.
You sighed as you turned off the TV, opting for keeping your thoughts far away from that psycho and resuming to do your make up in peace, only the gentle hum of your playlist playing through your speaker keeping you company inside your dorm. Tonight you were dressed as an angel.
Such a cliché. But it was the easiest costume you could think of only using your clothes, and it actually came out looking very good. A white bustier, white fishnets and the tiniest white shorts that didn’t even cover up half of your ass cheeks. You just had to buy the halo and the wings to match.
You scan yourself — everything looks like it’s supposed to look, nothing out of place — before going out. You didn’t want to bring a purse, it wouldn’t match with the look. The only stuff you were going to take were your phone on your hand and your lip combo snuggly fit inside your bra.
With ‘this better be good’ as your last thought before grabbing the door knob, you exited your dorm and went to meet your friends.
The town used to feel so alive during Halloween. Families trick-or-treating, kids dressed up as their favourite things running around, grown-ups going out to party. It used to be so fun.
But now the streets are almost empty. The family-friendly-hour guarded by police is over and everything closed due to the curfew. There were only the few dumb brave ones defying fear and going out to party. You included.
Maybe it was the news-induced paranoia playing with your susceptibility or something, but on your way to the meeting point you arranged with your friends you couldn’t help but walk twice your normal speed. It was like a creeping anxiety fueling your speed, making you feel like someone was following you. Which is crazy, because every time you looked back there was nothing but empty streets and a couple of cars driving by.
You wished you took an uber instead of walking those five blocks, but since it was so close you didn’t feel like spending the money you could use for something more important.
The lingering feeling of danger simmered down when you reached your friends.
“Finally!” groaned Nobara when she saw you. She was wearing a bloody sexy nurse costume. “We’ve been waiting for soooo long,” she said as she hooked her arm with yours and pulled you closer.
“We only waited for like—five minutes, by the way,” chuckled Maki on your other side, she was dressed as a sexy black cat. Internally, you sigh with relief as no one was creative with the costumes this year.
“It’s still too long!” argued back the brunette. “A lot of fun stuff can happen in five minutes, and we’re missing it!”
“Sorry, Kugisaki,” your reply was half apology and half joking. You actually didn’t care about what you were missing out before you even got there, but you knew she did. “It’s kind of hard to run with these heels.”
Your friend shrugged it off with a smile and changed the subject. You kept walking with your arms hooked to both of them.
The alcohol had already started affecting you. You felt like your brain was spinning inside your skull as you made your way into the upstairs bathroom of the frat house. The first thing you did upon entering was to splash your face with cold water, the next was to look up at your reflection.
Your make up had barely smudged — thank you waterproof setting spray — and your cheeks were flushed from the uncountable tequila shots.
The party wasn’t so bad, but as you expected from the beginning, your friends ditched you the moment you stepped inside the house. You didn’t know why they insisted you go with them if they were gonna disappear from your sight the entire night. Thankfully you knew some people there, or else you were gonna stay with your back pressed to the wall until everyone left.
You hung out with the cute frat guys for a while, playing beer pong and chatting, until one of them — the tall white-haired hottie dressed as a devil — grabbed you and pulled you into the dancefloor. There, between the flirty looks and the grinding, you drank from every single shot he handed you. You just couldn’t resist those piercing blue puppy eyes.
But now, inside that bathroom and looking at your reflection, you couldn’t help but scoff at these people—and you—pretending to mask their fear with loud music and alcohol. Like this whole thing wasn’t a huge ‘Free victims. Come in.’ neon sign for that psycho. You rolled your eyes at the thought.
However, any critical thinking about your peers and your current situation was interrupted when a large figure entered the same bathroom you were in.
“Hey, it’s occupied,” you scolded through slurred words, your tongue felt heavy inside your mouth.
Your eyes scanned the intruder through the mirror’s reflection. A cold sweat pooled on the back of your neck. He was dressed as Ghostface. You swallowed hard when you saw that white mask staring at you through hollow eyes with his head tilted.
It was clear that this was someone with a very twisted sense of humour, who had dressed up as the killer from the news, even covering himself with fake blood and everything. Still, you couldn’t not feel intimidated by that ghostly figure.
“Didn’t you hear me?” you questioned, rising a brow. “Its. Occupied.” you repeated, a little annoyed now.
You were about to turn around and leave this idiot alone when the figure grabbed your hair and forced you back into your original position - in front of the mirror, hips resting against the marble counter, a slight stinging sensation where his gloved hand had your hair. You didn’t know what to do, you were so shocked by the audacity of that person you couldn’t find the words to yell at him.
The figure shook his head.
Your eyebrow was raised again. Your drunk brain was trying to figure out what the hell he wanted from you. For a moment you glanced at the reflection and the imaginary light bulb on top of your head lit up.
“What? You wanna play psycho killer?” you asked with a crooked smile. The way you, dressed up as a slutty angel, and him, dressed as a masked killer, looked in the mirror gave you that ‘oh’ moment of lucidity and understood what he wanted. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system or that thing you had for masks, but you weren’t against this roleplay.
The figure nodded, answering your question.
“Can I be the helpless victim?” you joked, your voice innocent and airy, looking at him with your best doe eyes and pouty smile.
He nodded again.
His hand—that was still holding your hair—exerted force on your head until you were bent over the counter. Your arched back lifted your half-naked ass higher, the smooth white fabric barely covering it, making the masked man leave a muffled sigh under his mask.
The Ghostface didn’t lose time. The cold air in the room clashed with your bare skin as he got rid of the minimal clothing covering you with urge. You felt your nipples harden against the marble, drawing gasps from your trembling throat that sounded like music to the mysterious man.
Lust filled the air. The hard chest of the masked man rested on top of your naked back, both of your breaths were connected by the uncontrollable desire. You started to excitedly wonder what could happen next, how rough would it be, what could be his next move? Despite the fear building up inside your stomach, the wet heat running down your thighs encouraged you to continue.
The tearing sound of your fishnets made you shudder, and the cold metal touch of what you thought was a blade sent shivers down your spine. The bastard sliced your underwear off. Now the only thing protecting your bare pussy from his growing bulge was the fabric of his robe and his jeans.
His bulge rubbed slowly against you, so slow it was torturous, the friction sending flashes of pleasure to your lower belly. You didn’t want him to stop; his rhythm was delicious enough to make the black fabric even darker with your juices.
The Ghostface only let out ragged breaths, although his gaze wasn’t noticeable in the mirror that was reflecting the vulgar expressions on your face, inside that hood he was savouring the obscene angle he had you on—your ass shaped like a heart from his point of view.
His gloved fingers forced their way into your mouth without warning, seeking the lubrication your saliva could provide. The combination of the leather taste and your frothy saliva tingled your taste buds. There was a certain synchronization with the fake thrusts he made into your mouth and the friction against your cunt.
His other hand grabbed your hair again and pulled you hard so you could see yourself better how he caressed your pussy lips with his lubed fingers, playing with your folds, feeling how they got wetter with those sweet juices you were leaking. Your mouth gaped when you felt his fingers entering your cunt so slowly it was almost cruel. It didn’t take much time until he was digging his digits inside those gummy walls of yours.
“Hmmph, fuck.” your whimpers got louder, but you were sure that the music blasting outside the bathroom was muffling the lewd sounds escaping from your mouth. So you let yourself loosen up, you were getting fingered by a stranger in a bathroom after all, one dressed as a serial killer. There was no place for inhibition anymore.
The mask had a voice modifier inside, you hadn’t noticed before with his deep sighs, but now it was picking up his louder grunts and morphing them into a robotic sound. He tilted his head again, just like the slashers did in the movies, staring at your facial expressions, you were enjoying his fingers abusing your cunt so much. If only you could see how his eyes darkened.
The movements of his fingers stopped after a few minutes because then, without any warning, he found his way inside you again—this time with his cock. The stretch of his girth burned as he buried himself into you. You opened your mouth with a slacked jaw, eyes closed shut as you tried to take the ridiculous size of that cock and not fall apart in the process.
“Hmm, look at you, doll.” growled the man behind you, the modified voice coating your ears like honey. “Who would’ve thought that you’d get so turned on being like this,” he sounded out of breath, taking your mewls as encouragement as he began to rock his hips against your cheeks abruptly.
A wet slapping sound began to fill the room as he fucked you against the counter. The marble edge painfully digged into your hips but you couldn’t care less, the way his length felt inside of you cancelled any uncomfortable feelings. With each thrust your body shoved forward and made your tits jiggle.
“I’m gonna show you what good little sluts like you deserve,” he muttered, holding your hips tightly. “Gonna fuck this tight pussy with my big cock.”
You bit your lip and moaned, his words only fueling the heat inside you and dripping slick into his cock. You weren’t used to his moves; any trace of vanilla had disappeared the moment he exercised that cruel power over you. Your voice started to wear out and your thoughts were so tangled that you couldn’t form a straight answer, limiting yourself to just whine and cry just like he described—like his good little slut.
He was a vulgar and obscene entity that just released your deepest and darkest desires with just the sound of his distorted voice and the heavenly thrusts of his hips.
Your eyelids felt heavy, you couldn’t help but close them for a second, which earned you a hard slap on your ass that, by judging how bad it stinged, would definetly leave a mark.
“Don’t fucking close your eyes,” he cursed through what sounded like gritted teeth. His hand grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look at yourself in the mirror. He never stopped pounding you. “Look at yourself. Look how much of a whore you’re being to a complete stranger,” he was right, your hair was messy and your cheeks were flushed with desire, some of your lipstick smudged around your mouth from before making them look twice as big. “What would your little boyfriend say, huh? Would he like to know that a killer is filling up his girl?”
He probably said that referring to the frat guy you were dancing with hours ago. You shook your head. “No boyfriend,” was the only thing you could manage to reply with his hand still gripping your face. Your brain began to shut down from so much brutality and overstimulation.
“Heh, really now?” he sounded excited after your answer. His hand left your chin. “Then, nothing could stop me from doing this,” he said, and the next thing you felt apart from his cock hammering inside of you was the sharp blade on his hand piercing its way into your soft skin. The hot pain of his weapon cutting on the flesh of your ass mixed with the pleasure of his thrusts melted your brain away until there was nothing left but incoherent babbling.
His hand caressed the fresh wound before traveling to your bare chest, staining the soft flesh crimson red. The hunting knife went up to your neck and rested on your jugular, the pace of his hips began to speed up and you thought you could die from the way his tip was hitting your sweet spot. Until now you didn’t know that you liked danger so much, because the stinging of your cut and the sharp blade deathly close to your neck should have made you scared, instead you were getting wetter by the second.
A subtle bulge started to form on your lower belly. You could see through the mirror how his length reached places in you no other dick had explored before.
“Fuuuuck,” the man exhaled a deep groan that sounded almost animalistic despite the robotic modification. “Just look at you, such a mess,” the silicone mask caressed your cheek as he rested his face on your shoulder, the deliciously intense scent of cologne invaded your nostrils. His hand still held the knife to your neck, the other grabbed both of your arms behind your back and kept your body straight and slightly arched so you had a better view. “I’m gonna ruin you,” he promised, or threatened. “Gonna make you cum so hard, no other than me will fuck you this good. There’s no dick out there that could abuse this pussy like mine.”
Your head was spinning. You were all over the place. The overstimulation and his dirty talk that sounded threatening were bubbling up in your lower abdomen and you were oh so desperate to reach your climax.
“Gonna make you mine, gonna fill you up.”
Your hips were hitting hard against the bathroom counter, your breasts bounced with each thrust and your mouth was slack jawed and letting any sound come out. Your gaze showed both pleasure and fear. Despite currently getting the fuck of your life, you were still uncertain of making it out alive…and that made it fun, actually.
His hand let your arms go. You watched as it grabbed his mask and took off the plastic material that was keeping you from knowing who was fucking you.
It wasn’t enough to say he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life.
Straight, shoulder-length hair, tired eyes surrounded by violet shadows that revealed sleepless nights, and a striking mark or tattoo running across his cheeks and nose bridge. His porcelain-like skin couldn’t hide the rosy flush that softened his otherwise sharp and intimidating features.
His lips curled into a crooked smirk when your whines stopped upon seeing his face. “Like what you see, angel?”
The deepness of his true voice shook you to your core and made you weak in the knees. He didn’t give you time to answer the obvious ‘yes!’ your brain wanted to scream, he just grabbed you by the hair and pulled you into a filthy kiss, all spit and teeth and fighting tongues. You let out a tiny mewl when his teeth bit hard on your lower lip, so hard it left you with a metallic taste after he broke away from the kiss, only a thin thread of pink-ish saliva connecting your mouths.
“Couldn’t help myself, just want to devour those lips.”
You felt like your insides were being abused by his length, like you were just a toy, your gushing cunt already feeling full of him even though he was giving you lazy half-thrusts. The few moments when he decided to punish you and thrust in full made you dizzy. Through the mirror, you could notice his gaze fixated on the way his cock disappeared into your warm walls.
His hands hovered over the end of your waist, drawing invisible lines along the curves of your hips, while he kept spitting the most vulgar and purely depraved things into your ears. You watched as his eyes rolled back into his skull whenever your pussy clenched and tightened around his shaft whenever he said something dirty, and the way he thrusted back with mouth-watering force made your eyes roll too.
You were a hundred percent sure that the people outside the bathroom were hearing your moans by now, but you couldn’t help it, you were approaching your long-awaited orgasm and you felt the hot knot in your lower abdomen loosening and sending electricity through your nervous system. Your walls were hugging his cock so tight, as if your pussy didn’t want to let him go now that you were about to cum.
“Shit, you’re practically swallowing me,” groaned the handsome stranger.
“I’m gonna cum,” you whined, furrowing your brows and focusing on that feeling so you could reach over the edge of your climax.
He leaned over you, pressing his chest to your naked back and angling you forward. He was looking into your eyes through the mirror, a wicked smirk on his face.
“Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock?” he mumbled into your ear, hot breath caressing the inside, leaving you with a tingling sensation. Ween his only answer was a strangled moan, he clicked his tongue and grabbed you by the crown of your hair, the new angle pushing you even more towards the edge. “Answer, slut. You gonna cum on my cock? You gonna be m’little whore and let me cum inside you?”
You nodded your head, the best you could with his hand still on your hair. “Yeah, want you to cum in me, please fill my pussy,” you whimpered, almost sobbed, begging for your release.
“Then cum for me, angel.”
The moment didn’t take long, a couple more thrusts into you and that was it, his seed was filling you up and, at the same time, yours was coating his length; both mixing inside of you, spilling out and running down your thighs. The proof of your affair was now staining your shorts and dripping on the floor.
Then, the stranger pulled out and—without saying anything—started to zip his jeans and ip on the mask again. You stopped him, not even bothering to pull up your shorts.
“What’s your name?” you asked. You didn’t want to lose the opportunity of seeing him again. Mind blowing fuck or not, he was beautiful and your still foggy mind thought he looked familiar. Besides, he must go to the same college as you, given it was a frat party.
He just shook his head, smirk still intact on his handsome face. He put on his mask and softly grabbed your face by the chin.
“Ghostface.”
You rolled your eyes at his joke. “Well, Mr. Ghostface…will I ever see you again?”
His hand left your chin to travel to the loose strand of hair over your forehead, tucking it behind your ear. “Soon, angel.”
And then he left, the silence after the door shut was deafening, your ears ringing and your mind left spinning. You looked at yourself again—smudged make up, sweaty and your hair a mess. You turned and looked at your back, your body was stained red by the fake blood he had on his cloak. Your eyes traveled down to your ass, where he had cut you moments before, your cheeks were red and stained with your own blood, but it was like a superficial cut, nothing serious.
You couldn’t help but notice that he carved a ‘C’ on your left cheek.
When you finally pull yourself together and decide to leave the bathroom, the first thing you encounter is straight out of a horror movie.
A body was lying on the floor, a guy slumped against the wall opposite the bathroom door, blood staining his clothes and the wall behind him. You clapped a hand over your mouth, fighting the urge to vomit. You dashed down the stairs to find your friends and alert the frat guys to call the police, but the scene in the living room was even worse.
Three bodies were there. One guy and two girls. The two girls were seated on the couch, almost as if the killer posed them, their blood turning the cream-colored fabric a deep scarlet- The guy laid face down on the floor, his blood pooling around him. The music continued playing, its upbeat rhythm and trendy lyrics felt like a mock to the gruesome scene.
You felt sick to your stomach, wanting to puke, cry and scream, but you couldn’t. You were frozen on the last step of the stairs.
As you hear a siren in the distance and the house slowly bathes in the blue and red lights, your eyes locked onto a sticky note on the front door. You carefully walked over and read it.
sam winchester x bimbo female reader.
3.k words, originally posted on ao3
summary: Sam is falling in every exam, meanwhile she has one of the best scores in the entire class. But one day he came to her asking for help, even if he didn’t want to initially.
What would happen if that one afternoon became the reason why he would search for more tutoring lessons?
Or, when Sam Winchester discovers a new thing about his hated classmate.
warnings: collage rivals into fuck buddies,shameless smut, submissive sam winchester, vaginal sex, reader calls sam "puppy" so it's also puppy play, frotting, slight mommy kink, panties in mouth, riding, dom/sub dynamics, degradation.
Screw this. Fuck everything.
Or at least, that was the loop playing in Sam’s head ever since his professor had dragged him into his office a few hours ago. He hadn’t expected the meeting to be such a disaster. Sam wasn't some struggling student; far from it. He was usually at the top of his game, but today, it felt like the universe had personally teamed up against him just to trash his pride.
You see, aside from his older brother—who had graduated with honors ages ago—Sam was a rare breed. He was smart, he knew it, and he took a quiet, sharp pride in that fact. Now in his third year of International Law, he finally felt like he was where he belonged. He’d spent years figuring out what he wanted to do, and he was ready to leave a mark.
So, if he was the faculty’s "golden boy," why the hell was he being forced to swallow his pride and beg her for help? It was a total blow to his ego, completely out of character, and made ten times worse by the fact that it was her specifically.
Don’t get it twisted; Sam wasn't a loner or some social disaster. He was actually pretty charismatic and well-liked. People weren't the problem—she was. Or rather, the problem was how she made Sam feel. Unlike his more "serious" intensity, she moved through campus like she was always under a spotlight. She had that long, silky hair that looked like it belonged in a high-end commercial, a toned build, and a makeup game so perfect it was honestly distracting. She had a gaze that could dismantle any guy's ego in seconds and a way of talking that made even the most stubborn professors back down and question their own syllabus.
And the ultimate insult: she was #1 in the class. She was ahead of Sam by a measly three points, but in his world, those three points might as well have been a mountain.
Because of that gap, Sam’s ego had kept him in a self-imposed silent treatment for two semesters. He hadn't said a single word to her, opting instead for a lot of—okay, way too many—low-key stares from his seat at the back of the room. His friends roasted him for it constantly, saying his "rivalry" was basically an obsession. He hated that they were probably right.
Now, walking down the hall, his feet felt like lead. He was low-key praying this was all just a fever dream—that he’d wake up, his grades would be fine, and he wouldn't have to chase anyone down.
But then, he saw her.
She was surrounded by her usual crew, all of them loud and talking about stuff Sam was sure she found mid at best. She was laughing, looking way too effortlessly cool, and Sam knew right then he was going to regret every second of this.
Damn that professor, damn Research Methodology, and damn his own stubborn-ass ego.
Sam took a breath, hitched his bag higher on his shoulder, and stepped into her space. Her friends didn't notice him, but she did. Her eyes flicked to him instantly, a slow, "I-knew-it" smirk spreading across her face.
“Well, if it isn’t the man of the hour,” she said, her voice cutting through the noise. Her friends went quiet, looking between the two of them with those "oh, this is gonna be good" grins. “Looking a bit lost, Sammy. Did you finally realize the library has a ‘No Egos’ policy and they kicked you out?”
“Did you ever think for a second… who the fuck asked?” Sam rolled his eyes, trying to look way more chill than he actually was. “Anyway, I just came to see if you were okay. I heard being three points ahead of me can cause, like, serious vertigo. Just worried about your health.”
She laughed—that short, annoying, way-too-pretty sound. “Oh, I’m doing great up here, thanks. The view is amazing. But something tells me you didn't walk over here just to check my vitals.”
Sam let out a long, defeated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “Miller. He’s forcing a joint review for the Methodology thesis. Apparently, he thinks my ‘brilliance’ and your… whatever it is you do… would be a ‘powerhouse’ team.”
“‘Whatever it is I do’?” She stepped closer, crossing her arms. Her perfume hit him—crisp, expensive, and totally unfair. “You mean the work that has me in first place while you’re out here fighting for your life at second? That thing?”
“It’s a rounding error. Get over it,” Sam countered, dripping with sarcasm. “So, are we doing this or should I go tell Miller you’re too intimidated to work with your superior?”
She tilted her head, looking him up and down with a playful, mocking look. “Superior? God, you’re so cute when you’re delusional,” she chuckled. “Fine. But we’re not doing this at the library. I can’t focus with all these freshmen staring at you like you’re some legal messiah.”
“Where, then?”
“My place. Tonight,” she said, already turning back to her friends but throwing one last look over her shoulder. “Seven o’clock sharp. Don't be late, Sam. I’d hate for those three points to turn into five because you couldn't figure out how to use Google Maps.”
“I’ll be there,” Sam muttered. “Try to keep the trophies in the other room, okay? I don't want to be blinded by all that bronze.”
“It’s gold, Sam!” she called out as she walked away, laughing. “Pure gold. Just like the grade you’re about to beg me for!”
The moment of reckoning had arrived. Sam stood in front of her door, which looked way too fancy under the sunset. He adjusted his bag, feeling like he was walking into a trap. He was going to regret this. He was 100% going to regret this.
He knocked, and honestly, he barely waited two seconds before the door swung open.
There she was, leaning against the frame looking way too comfortable. No campus outfit this time—just an oversized uni sweatshirt and leggings, hair up in a messy bun that still looked better than his best hair day.
"Finally, you decided to show up," she said with a snort. She didn't let him in yet, instead pretending to check a watch she wasn't wearing. "I actually had a bet going in the group chat. I put twenty bucks on you 'getting lost' or 'accidentally' driving into a ditch just to avoid asking me for help."
Sam gave a dry, fake laugh. "Sorry to ruin your payday, but I actually show up when I say I will. Even if it means being stuck in a room with you."
She smirked and stepped back, waving him in. The place was just like her: organized, expensive, and smelling like high-end coffee and old books.
"Careful, Sam. If you keep being this charming, I might think you actually like me," she teased, her eyes full of mischief. "The kitchen’s that way. I’ve already got the papers out. Try not to track any 'second-place energy' onto the rugs, okay? They’re silk."
Sam rolled his eyes, following her. "You’re literally never going to let those three points go, are you?"
"Nope. Not until they become five," she shot back, her voice full of playful malice. "Now, move it, Law Boy. We have a methodology class to wreck, and I don't do late nights—not even for charity cases like you."
The hours passed quickly. Sam had completely forgotten that the girl had explicitly said that night shifts were not her thing.
However, he was still there. Even if they wanted to with all their might, their eyes could not look away for even two seconds from the crystalline gaze of their classmate.
"I think working together mightbe more useful than I expected," he murmured softly, earning a short laugh from the girl in front of him.
"Of course it is," the girl replied with a smile. She looked up until she met Sam's gaze once more. "I mean, I'm really surprised you wanted to come here. I never thought I could be someone you'd need help from.”
And she wasn't the only one.
For better or for worse, Sam never needed help from anyone, not even from his brother Dean who was (at that time) perhaps three years ahead of him.
But even so, the brunette couldn't deny that the girl knew too much. Her writing style was so perfect it almost seemed like it came from a legal investigation; her mannerisms, everything seem so calculated. Despite her reputation as a "popular girl", his classmate can dazzle anyone with her knowledge.
“No, Sam, you’re missing the entire point of the sovereignty clause,” she said while crossing a paragraph he’d spent twenty minutes perfecting. “You’re being too rigid. Law isn't just about what’s on the page; it’s about how much room you can carve out for yourself.”
The boy stiffened, feeling the need to shut her up but still, keeping his pace while listening. “I’m not being rigid, I’m being precise. Maybe if you spent less time trying to be 'creative' with the law and more time actually following it, you’d realize why your argument is full of holes.”
“Holes? The only hole here is you being a complete ass-hole to me. The argument got me a 98% on the midterm and you’re still gonna tell me that i’m wrong? This is insane.”
This was getting out of control. “Maybe you’re just mad that my ‘creativity’ is more effective than your obsession with the rules.”
“I’m not obsessed,” Sam spit, finally dropping his pen. He turned his chair to face her, his knees almost touching hers. “I just don’t play games to get what I want. I don’t manipulate people, and I definitely don’t use... your usual charms to sway a grade.”
Yeah, he did in fact said that.
“Are you joking?” her eyes met his, looking like a predator haunting his beloved prey. “Is this what you took me for? A foolish girl that just do whatever and take advantage of anything?. Sorry but you must know that I’m not like that and I would never do something near..”
“I think you’d do whatever it takes to win,” Sam countered, his voice tight. “You like having people under your thumb. You like the power trip.”
She didn't look away. Instead, she let her gaze linger on his mouth for a second too long before meeting his eyes again. “And what if I do? What if I like seeing how far I can push someone before they finally break?”
The silence that followed was deafening.
The air in the kitchen suddenly felt ten degrees hotter. Sam stared down at his notebook, the words of the International Law treaty blurring into a mess of black ink. He could feel her gaze on the side of his face—heavy, mocking, and entirely too observant.
“I didn't really peg you as the type,” Sam muttered, finally breaking the silence. He was biting his lower lip, a nervous habit he usually kept under control, but right now, his cool exterior was held together by a thread. He still couldn't bring himself to look at her. “You know... thinking you’d actually sleep with someone just to get them to change their mind about a project.”
She didn't flinch. In fact, she leaned in closer, invading his personal space until he could smell the faint scent of her shampoo again. It was a power move, and they both knew it.
“What, Sammy? Is it really that hard to picture?” she shot back, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous hum. “Is it that difficult to imagine me riding you and getting you so worked up that you’d agree to literally anything I say?”
Sam’s heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. He finally risked a glance at her, only to find her leaning back in her chair, a predatory, satisfied smirk playing on her lips. She wasn't just winning the academic game anymore; she was winning this, too.
“You’re full of it,” Sam managed to say, though his voice sounded a lot less steady than he wanted it to.
“Am I?” She tilted her head, her eyes tracing the line of his jaw. “Because you’re looking pretty worked up right now, and I haven't even touched you yet.”
Yet again, none of them moved an inch. Why am I counting the seconds? he wondered, his mind traitorously tracing the shape of her lips as she spoke. He hated how she moved, how she sounded, and especially how her sarcasm felt like a physical weight he was increasingly desperate to carry. When he looked back at her, he saw a spark of dominance in her eyes that should have made him recoil. Instead, it lit a fire in his gut that he couldn't extinguish.
What is this? Why now? His mouth went bone-dry, but he refused to look away. Get it together, he told himself. This is her. You hate her.
Hate became lust.
"What’s the matter, Sammy? Cat got your tongue?" she mocked, her voice dripping with disdain. "How pathetic."
The word hit him hard because he felt it; he looked and felt entirely pathetic beneath her gaze. He was supposed to hate her—well, hate was a strong word, but… shit. He should have stood up and walked out. But as she reached out to tousle his hair, his thoughts fragmented. Her touch was a permission slip for every dark, shameful impulse he’d been suppressing.
Fuck it. The thought wasn't a choice; it was an admission of defeat.
In an instant, Winchester lunged. His lips crashed hungrily against hers while his large hands gripped the back of her neck, pulling her in with a desperate pressure. He savored the artificial sweetness of her lipstick, a sharp contrast to the bitterness of their rivalry. When they finally broke apart, a thin silver thread of saliva lingered between them. Their eyes searched one another, breathless and reeling.
"I was right after all," she murmured against his mouth, tilting her face to brush her lips ghost-like over his. . "Nothing but a stupid, needy puppy. Is that why you were looking at me so angrily? Because you were starving for this?”
Sam was ruined. His pulse hammered as she ran her hand through his hair again, a mocking caress. “You have a mouth... use it. Speak,” she whispered.
Dazed and lost, Sam didn't hesitate. There was no going back to the way things were before. His mind was a blur of static, his body reacting to her voice with a hunger that terrified him. When she commanded him to speak, his pride didn't even put up a fight. It simply stepped aside. “Yes, ma’am.”
For the next hour, the worksheet was forgotten, pushed to the edge of the desk. The girl in pastel clothes focused entirely on the sight of her greatest enemy reduced to this—rubbing against her shoe like a loyal dog.
He was a Winchester. He was supposed to be strong. But as he felt himself breaking down into senseless babbling beneath the sole of her foot, he realized he didn't want strength. He wanted her to see every vulgar, desperate inch of his ruin.
She couldn't deny him anything now. Sam had been her guilty pleasure since the day they met—a secret craving to see him exactly like this: vulgar, desperate, and utterly hers.
“I’m gonna say this just once, ‘cause I know you’re well behaved. This,” she responded while cupping his chin, “is what you are made for. I know you actually like this, you adore having women telling you how much of a clumsy piece of a man you are, Winchester.”
“Y-yes, ma’am,” he moaned near her skin. And he was. Just a mutt whimpering a woman’s name in need to release something upon him.
Yet she didn’t want him to come. Why? Because she craves the feeling of her pussy feeling stuffed by a big and useless cock like Sam’s.
Without saying another word, she moved her own shoe away from the boy's crotch, pressing the sole of it against its covered member, applying enough pressure to elicit another moan from him.
This is gonna be a long night.
“Open wide, baby..” she purred. “I can’t do it if you still mumbling shit and not shutting up and behave. Now open.”
Sam timidly took her panties into his mouth like a good ole’ boy once again, having the certain feeling of his cheeks burning up like a fireplace and burst in embarrassment because of it.
How he ended up having the prettiest girl on the campus balls deep into him? He ain’t even knew it.
Only he knew that her gummy and slippery walls were squeezing his cock in the most delicious way he'd ever experienced. He'd only had sex with a couple of girls: two friends of his older brother and an acquaintance from his previous job who ended up doggy-style with him in the back of a gas station.
But this was different. The taste of her juices made his mouth a sea of pleasure, and along with the way her hips moved on top of him—her breasts bouncing so close to his face that he wanted more than anything to put them in his mouth (even though it was impossible), it only made his libido rise to levels that no porn video could ever reach.
“Look at you, puppy..” she murmured, her voice a low and almost melodic hum to his ears. “A six-foot Winchester, reduced to a whining, messy heap. I bet you are so desperate to cum.” She let out a soft, sharp laugh that felt like a slap. "Tell me, does it feel good to be this useless? To realize that all that muscle doesn't mean a damn thing when you're begging?.”
"You think you’re so strong, don’t you? But right now, you’re just a mindless, vulgar tool. You’re not even a man to me right now—you’re just my toy. My messy, desperate little toy." As he tried to thrust back, she pushed his shoulder back against the bed frame while pinning him with a surprising force. He didn’t move at her hiss and still take everything that she gave to him.
Every inch of him was locked up in pleasure as she picked up a better pace, bouncing on him like a trampoline. Sam wasn’t able to hold it back no more, even so, she wasn’t either to stop or lower her movements. She needed this boy to end up crying and drunk in pussy by the end of the night.
And Sam, gosh he was loving every part of it.
“What do you want, Sammy?” she leaned near his lobe, bitting it just a little without any force, “You need to tell me.. oh wait. You can’t do it.”
Those words were enough to make him shiver, a loud cry left his body and his pupils were floded with tears as he reach his final point. Hazel turned into green-ish and his voice broke multiple times trying to speak.
He was stuffing that loose cunt like a champ, he might just cum by how good she was riding him. Breathing ragged as his climax was approaching slowly.
“Want to..” he muffle into her lace panties. “Want to cum so-fucking-bad.“ Gosh, he was a menace.
After a few minutes he found himself crying about how good it felt, tears drooling his eyes and spit going down his chin and neck. As a little trail of kisses draw their way into his face by now he knew it wouldn’t last longer.
With a huff and broken moan, Sam came inside her like a full beast— walls chocking his big cock while milking it all the way up, feeling full. “That’s a good boy, making mommy so proud of you,” she said while scratching his broad shoulder that now had a few trails of her that might stays like this for a couple of weeks. If the sex was like this with her, he might start coming over often.
Another hour passed and Sam was already on his way back home, Dean picked him up of her house by 10 PM. With the loudest honking sound that any human has ever made, he went inside his car—or his brother’s “baby” because of the nickname made by him.
Dean kept asking him how it went but he can only focus on one thing only.
Inside his backpack besides his books and material needed for that worsheet was the laced pantie, slick and spit still appearing on the center of it with the sweet and lustful scent watering his mouth again.
