dweebsqueeze

[dweebsqueeze]

⁺　 ୨୧ . ᕀ sometimes you forget that your boyfriend sees everything ˚ | ꒰ gojo satoru x female reader ᨀ ꒱ minors do not interact ᨀ w.c ˓˓ 2k explicit smut, pussy drunk!gojo, hentai tropes [ ahegao, internal view / satoru uses his six eyes during sex ], spit kink, creampies, messy sex, squirting, mating press, fingering [ f!receiving ] + lollynote ! this is jus a quick lil unedited thirst bc i miss my darling love n miss writing.

“h-honey, i ever tell you how pretty this pussy is?” 

he has, multiple times, because satoru is obsessed with watching you while he fucks you. 

in a way, you don’t blame him. the two of you are beautiful together and on the days when your boyfriend is merciful enough not to fuck you flat into his mattress, you love lifting your gooey head up to watch the pretty bounce of your tits, the squishy sink of satoru’s cock disappearing into your pussy and how the taut muscles in his abdomen twitches, tensing up whenever you suck him in with a widowmaking squeeze,

but tonight satoru is … tonight, something has him frenzied. 

his quicksilver blue eyes refuse to close down, and no matter how good he feels inside you, he refuses to throw his head back in ecstasy. it’s like he’s watching the performance of the century, one such cinematic masterpiece that he can’t afford to miss and you’re the pretty young starlet acting centerstage.  

his gaze trails all over every inch of your plush body, from the way he leaves his fingerprints in the soft dimples of your hips, the tousel of your hair as you thrash against the pillows underneath him, and now his new personal favorite— a sight only his six eyes are allowed to see. 

a sweet treat he’s never thought to indulge in before now, the fact that if he drags his gaze down to your body and let the six eyes focus a little further, past your soft belly until it becomes a translucent screen to him, he can see everything. it feels perverse, being able to watch the raw way he fucks into you but it’s so intoxicating, maddening and white hot, how heavenly you look spread out underneath him with your cunt laid bare to his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to resist it if he tried–

so he watches, milky lashes fanning out over petal-pink cheeks as his lidded eyes focus below your hips, right between the jiggle of your thighs. “g-god,” he moans out through gritted teeth, lilting baritone low and shaky. he’s sitting back on his heels, chin tucked to his chest and lip bitten raw. sweat drips from his brows onto your belly in rivulets and he’s attempting to rally the last bit of self-control he has in order not to absolutely wreck you as he watches himself fuck his cock deep into your weeping pussy. “wish you could see how easy this little lady’s opening up f’me, angel.” 

“nnngh, i can’t see-!” you squeal, and you don’t know if it’s because of the sticky tears blurring your big doe eyes or because it’s one of those nights where he fucks you flat, where the weight of his cock leaves you writhing and unable to move properly. where the only thing you can do is toss your head back against the pillows and take what he gives.

how such an innocent night ended up like this so suddenly, you don’t know. your head had been on satoru’s strong chest, cocooned in his infinity while his arm was curled behind his own head, scrolling aimlessly through a shady porn website on your phone with the intention of finding a cheesy hentai episode for the two of you to watch and dissect for jokes, a tradition in your relationship when you were in between streaming shows. satoru ended up choosing one from your recently watched, and as the two of you watched the exaggerated, almost comical movements of the animated couple fucking on the screen, you had expected his boyish jokes to begin and make you giggle, but he’d been silent— eyes darkening with something worse than lust at the sight of the x-ray view of the male character’s engorged cock sinking deep into the female character’s pussy while she wailed and babbled incoherently.

this what gets you hot ‘n’ bothered when i’m not around, angel? 

the rest is hazy, lost in the way you’re splayed out on the sheets now, knees bent to your shoulders and fingers desperately digging into the backs of your trembling thighs to hold them in the air for gojo. the position is uncomfortable and you’re not flexible like that, joints in your poor hips aching but you don’t care, not when he’s got your breasts bouncing lewdly with each repeated, dirty slam of the tip of his cock right up against your womb until you can practically feel him in your throat, stealing the desperate screams right from your vocal cords. 

“that’s a real shame, princess,” he coos, an egoistic smirk on his lips but it falters when you squeeze ‘round him just right, sore cunt twitching against the hard swell of his cock. his ocean blues dim, fingernails scratching against your squishy sides for leverage not to fuck deeper but to push you away because while he’s practiced, you feel too fucking good and he needs a minute, damn it, he’ll cum too fucking fast and ruin the perfect view of your cunt and it’ll be all your fault—

“wah-why did you stop-... please, miss your cock so much,” you simper, needy.

but he ignores your sweet little cries, drawing his hips back until his cock slips out of you and he lays it flat against your seam, greedily drinking down how fucking pretty you look beneath him like this, so good for him in the way you struggle to hold those sweet thighs up so he can have easy access to an even sweeter cunt. he wraps one hand around the root of his sticky girth, can’t help himself when he slaps the tip hard against the hood of your clit, just to earn that cute little yelp you make. “you’re so good for me always, sugar. such a good girl, huh? but i’m not sure of that anymore after tonight. you’ve been holding out on me.” 

“w… wh- i am a good girl-”

“but that’s okay,” he cuts you off. “i’ve got a front row seat now. know why?” 

he loves watching the pretty picture that confusion paints on a fucked out expression like yours. you fumble for the answer like a teacher’s pet, even though you’re distracted by grinding your clit against the tip of gojo’s cock for desperate, greedy friction. you’re too drunk on him to understand the true meaning behind those slurred out words and he knows it. head always caught up in the pleasure simmering in your belly that you forget the man fucking you is considered the strongest sorcerer in the world for a reason and oh … oh, there it is.

sometimes you forget that he views the world differently than normal men. the x-ray porn you secretly like may be an unrealistic act seen only in hentai, but gojo satoru wouldn’t be the strongest sorcerer if he couldn’t bring fiction into reality.

“y-you can see inside me,” you whisper, a little awed, and the thought of it is so fucking hot. you squeeze around emptiness when he nods, wanting to suck his tip right back into your tight pussy and you can practically feel the slick dripping out of you as he flashes a devastating, heartbreaker smile at you. “the six eyes. y-you can see how much i want you to fuck me again.”

“smart girl,” his praise warms your veins until your blood feels honeyed, running through you thick and slow. gojo flicks the tip against your clit one last time for the road before he reaches down, spreading one side of your folds open so he can nudge at the creamy ring to your cunt. “i can see everything.” 

“i can see how this little cunt is stubborn, how she never wants to stretch properly f’ me, the way she twitches when i hit it just right. i can see everything,” and he can, his technique zeroing in on his girth sinking in and stretching you wide, his answering whine almost louder than yours, eyes threatening to clamp shut as he feeds you the long stretch of his cock once more. the air in the bedroom of his penthouse makes your bodies slippery with sweat while you squirm underneath him on hot sheets, your breath wheezing out of your lungs until you can’t breathe. “look at that.” 

“i- hng, can’t-!”

it’s a hotter fuck like this, knowing those pretty blue eyes can see every rib and ridge of the inside of your pussy. that satoru knows the exact way your gummy walls, pretty pink against the white of his cock, look when you swell and squeeze for the stinging stretch, smeared in his precum. it makes you feel delirious— expression cracked wide open with pleasure, tongue lolling out of your pretty mouth, gaze fluttering releasing desperate whines as gojo fucks too fast, cockhead bullying your g-spot into overstimulation so that you can’t even fight it when you gush, the lewd sound of slick squelching out of you burning heat into your cheeks.

“look at you, squirtin’ all over me, angel,” gojo groans, stamping down the fast approach of his orgasm as arousal streams down the curve of your ass, wetting his expensive sheets. watching the way your swollen, puffy pussy spasms and tries to force him out but it only makes him drive deeper, his pace brutal— his hips rouged red from the friction of your bodies slapping together. “prettiest pussy in the whole world. you know that?” 

“y'r gonna cum inside me, right 'toru? s-so i'll look even prettier?” you simper under the praise, big doe eyes staring up at him behind a dreamy haze. the affect it has on gojo

“shouldn't have said that, sweet girl. ooooh, f-fuck. you shouldn't. have. said. that. fuck fuck fuck, i'm put my gonna cum right here, ” he babbles desperately,  a big hand splaying out on your belly, pressing down hard as his thumb dips low, circling your sticky clit almost desperately. the words punctuated by the heavy slap of his balls against your ass, headboard knocking violently into the wall. his spine tenses, orgasm building in the pit of his gut and he can’t wait to see it, the sight of his cum painting against your pretty walls. “and you're gonna take care of it f' me, aren’t you? promise ‘toru you won't spill a drop?.”

“i promise-! i promise i promise i promise, give me your cum- ‘toru- pleas-” 

“shut up, angel face. you're about to make me miss the best part of the movie.” 

[dweebsqueeze]

animal (m)

synopsis. Bakugou can be an animal when it comes to fucking you sensless.

warnings. explicit sex, kissing, unprotected sex [BE SMART IRL AND WRAP IT!] biting, obsessed bakugou, he is so lovesick :((, but he’s very horny, rough sex, he fucks you between a door n him, strong bakugou, borderline yandere bakugou 😵‍💫🫡

note. hihi I’m back! Plz send asks because I missed y’all so much n also warning, this is messy n cringe. PLZ SEND THIRST ASKS ANYTIME OR JUST ASKS TALK TO MEEEEE! share feedback!

*not edited*

Katsuki has no self control when it comes to you.

You are irresistible to him, he is so helpless when it comes to you. What is it about that gets him so hot and bothered, just one look at you? He’s hard.

You get him so horny without doing anything at all, you’re washing dishes? He’s mesmerised by you, with the way your hands work, the way you’re so focused on doing them.

It gets him. He feels so dumb, he should feel disgusting at himself for being so horny about the most normal things you do.

It’s disgusting, but he can’t control it. You’d be so embarrassed if you could hear his thoughts, you’d leave him.

He’s so addicted to fucking you, feeling you in the deepest and most intimate way he can, your lips, your nose, your damn e/c eyes, that seductive gaze you give him.

You’re the most sexiest woman he’s ever laid his eyes woman,

If only people knew just how much of a whore their beloved number two hero, dynamite is for his woman. They’d find him pathetic. He doesn’t give a single fuck though.

You are his. He could fuck you forever and he wouldn’t get tired. God, he loves you so much.

Katsuki isn’t good with words or let alone expressing his feelings out loud, he is obsessed with you, he’s so crazy for you but he is unable to express it.

Unless it’s through intimacy.

So that’s why he’s pounding into you like a dog in heat, breathing so loudly into your ear as you yelp, breathless, his large palm holding the back of your neck so you’re looking straight into his wild ruby eyes, clouded with love.

“Fuck! love you s’much princess!” Bakugou confesses into the shell of your ear, his voice rough and husky, you can’t respond because the high of the pleasure is too much for you to handle. He knows your body so well.

He knows your spots. Your man knows how to fuck you so good, you whimper, your nails scratching on his skin, he’s so strong, holding your legs effortlessly when you lose yourself into him.

He feels so good inside you. You’re sure you see stars right now.

He pounds into that spot once again and you moan out loud, digging your nails once again into his flesh. Bakugou moans too, it spurns him on more, the man is a stallion, holding you in place while rutting into you feverishly.

“S-So good, suki!” You praise your husband. Bakugou grands your nipple and gives it a gentle pinch, driving you insane.

“My baby, fuck… love you so fucking much.” He presses his lips impatiently to yours, his kiss is passionate, swallowing your breath.

“‘m gonna fuck you so good because you deserve it baby, I love you so much.”

He is so passionate, so gentle yet rough. You could never get used to his touch truly, it still makes your skin ignite, just one touch and your body’s on fire.

“My princess.” He finally stops kissing you. “Hope you have the energy because we’re not going to sleep tonight.”

[dweebsqueeze]

* multi-part fic * enemies to lovers * eventual smut * aged up obvi *

masterlist next>

PROLOGUE;

Tadashi: I’m having a couple of old high school friends over tonight

Tadashi: We’re getting takeout, want your usual?

Me: yes please! do i know these friends?

Tadashi: I don’t think so lol

Me: cool cool! I’ll bring some dessert home

You and Tadashi had been roommates for just over a year. It was a two and a half bedroom, but the half bedroom had a sliding door and was only used for storage and as a guest bedroom when someone came to stay. Tadashi was probably the best roommate you ever had. When you first moved to the city for culinary school, you stayed in the dorms, but after a particularly bad experience sharing a room, you needed your own space. Tadashi had just graduated college when you moved in; he was kind, cleaned up after himself, and had a car, so he didn’t mind picking you up from the station when it was late out. In return, you paid your rent on time and provided good food that you learned in class. You two quickly became friends.

On your way home, you stopped at a bakery and picked up a dozen cookies, ready to make a good impression. The building you lived in was pretty old, so the elevator was always wonky, and most residents distrusted it. It wasn’t a big deal when you lived on the third floor, so you didn’t care to bring it up to maintenance. As you fit your keys in the lock, you heard quite an excitable commotion behind the door, immediately wondering what Tadashi’s friends were like.

"I’m home!" You called after the door closed behind you.

"In here!" Your roommate called, and you headed over to the living area.

"Hi everyone!" You greeted. "I brought cookies!"

Tadashi’s friends were pretty nice. They consisted of Hitoka, who was a slightly shy but sweet girl, and Tobio and Shoyo, both professional volleyball players who were visiting the city for a bit; that’s why Tadashi had them over.

You sat down beside Shoyo, who seemed to be the most outgoing, and he asked what character you wanted to be. You had to look over to see Tobio and Hitoka setting up Mario Kart.

Then the sound of the tap turning on and off in the bathroom drew your attention away from them, where a tall man with blonde hair, glasses, and a bored look came out. You recognized him from a couple pictures Tadashi had shown you—it was his childhood friend, Tsukki—but you didn’t think he would be this tall or that he was definitely your type. You quickly turned back to Shoyo, who was voicing his train of thought.

"I think I’ll be Donkey Kong!" He said and then noticed the new person, "Tsukishima! What character are you gonna be?"

Tsukishima looked down at you for a second, and you were about to say hi when he just took a seat beside you and turned to the TV. "Mario."

"Bleh, Tsukishima!" Shoyo called over your body. "That’s such a boring character."

"Hi, I’m Y/N." You held your hand out to him.

"Tsukishima." He said, nodding.You dropped your hand, frowning slightly.

"I’m Tadashi’s roommate." You tried again.

"I know." He said and grabbed the remote that Hitoka held out to him."Your hand soap in the bathroom reeks like cherries. It makes me nauseous."

You nearly gaped at him, completely caught off guard by his overt rudeness. Nevertheless, you took your controller, despite being told you and Shoyo were playing on a team, and tried your best to ignore Tsukishima as you played.

The rest of Tadashi’s friends were great. As much as you tried to be nice to Tsukishima, he just brushed you off. You noticed he liked riling people up (especially Shoyo) and figured it was best to just focus on the other three that seemed to enjoy your company. At the end of the night, when everyone left, you and Tadashi did the dishes together.

"Your friends are so fun." You told him, handing him the plate so he could dry it. He smiled, and then you asked, "I’m guessing Tsukishima doesn’t like meeting new people though."

"Not really." He laughed.

"Do you want me to change the hand soap?" You asked him, and he furrowed his eyebrows, confused.

"I like cherries." He said. "Why?"

"Tsukishima said it made him nauseous." You mumbled a bit.

"That’s weird; he loves sweet things." Tadashi said. "Kei ate half the cookies you brought, didn’t you notice?"

You didn’t. But you didn’t think much about him after you two finished cleaning up. There could have been a million reasons why Kei said that, so you went to bed without him on your mind.

[dweebsqueeze]

Let me see

NSFW / Minors don't interact / 18+

Pairing: Kamo Choso x female reader

Summary: Art student Choso losing his mind over you, the beautiful model in his art class

Warnings: oral sex (female receiving)

Words: ~1.900

Notes: Just a sweet little gift for all my Choso fuckers out there lol Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <3

This is far from the first time for him. Choso’s eyes have glided along countless body shapes, sizes and curves. He’s used to it; to the nudity, the slow peeling off of clothes, in a non-sexual, professional way. 

But since you’ve taken off your clothes his usual professionalism seems to have left his body. You’re not like the other models. At least not for him. You’re different.

You’re stirring something inside of him, as you fix your gaze on one point of the room, body bare, face open and curious. You’re beautiful. Objectively. But for him, for Choso, you’re more. Your whole aura makes him feel like he’s on edge.

His pencil drags along his canvas, drawing along with the other students in the art class. It's quiet, except for the scraping of pencils, and faint comments of the teacher, who’s wandering aimlessly through the room. He wonders if the others can hear his heart racing in his chest. 

He works on the shadows, as he desperately wishes it were his fingers dipping into the shadows of your body instead. Your skin seems so soft, so touchable, your pose so calm, your expression collected. You’re truly ethereal.  

Choso tries to concentrate, working on his study, sketching and blurring until he is somehow satisfied - although he knows no painting will ever do your beauty justice.

He hopes no one notices how greedily his eyes drag along your silhouette, how desperately he wishes that instead of his pencil dragging along the canvas, it would be his fingers dragging along your curves. 

When his gaze rests too long on you he nervously shifts his attention back to the canvas in front of him, blocking the view of you. He tries to ignore the way his blood runs hot through his veins with every sight of you. His heart nervously tugs in his chest every time he takes you in. He feels weak at how he’s fallen prey to you, his body acting on his own. 

Others wouldn’t even notice what is going through him, Choso’s expression is as neutral and stoic as ever. When he excuses himself to go to the toilet, no one would ever suspect it's because of you. Because you almost make it hard for him to breathe or because his dick strains so hard against the confinement of his pants. 

Choso on the other hand can’t comprehend how the others can’t notice. The reflection of his black eyes stares back at him deliriously, knuckles turning white as his hands grab the sink tightly. His breathing is erratic and shallow, his blood running hotly through his veins. 

He ignores the throbbing of his cock, trying to deepen his breath as he focuses his thoughts on everything - everything other than you. He loses track of time, of how long it takes for him to pull himself together. 

When he enters the classroom again he’s taken aback. Seems like he has allowed himself too much time. The class had ended. One of his classmates rushes past him, shooting him a polite smile before Choso is all alone with you.

You’re clad in a kimono now, the delicate fabric slightly swaying across your ankles as you turn around.

The line of your gazes connected, just for a moment before Choso quickly averts his. Your gaze hit him hard and sweet, making his heart tug nervously in his chest as if he hasn’t just spent minutes trying to calm himself down. 

He inhales sharply through his nose, returning to his seat. His unfinished painting stares back at him, causing him discontent. 

“I can pose for you for another 10 minutes.”

His eyes snap up, peering past his canvas, resting on yours. A soft, almost shy smile plays around your lips. Your voice has a soothing tone, alluring. 

“No. No, you don’t have to,” he stammers, a slight blush creeping across his cheeks. You’re so affectionate, so attentive.

“I can also do another pose,” you propose. 

Choso knows that he shouldn’t say yes. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate, wouldn’t be able to paint like he usually does - without emotion, only caring about his study. But he’s so powerless, succumbing to your enchantment. 

“Alright, I’ll be quick.”

He has to swallow hard as you lose your kimono, folding it away before you strike your pose. Like earlier right in front of him, sitting on the chair, one leg over the other, staring to the right. 

You slightly tilt your head, “Like this?”

It’s an honor to paint you from every angle. Nonetheless, he takes long strides over to you. The sudden lack of proximity has his palms dampening, pulse racing, as his eyes trail across your features.  

And it’s no different for you. He practically looms over you, taking up your entire line of sight. It’s a little bit unexpected. You gulp, his blown-out pupils take your words away.

He gestures for you to move further to the right on the chair, positioning yourself more diagonally. When he orders a further correction you don’t seem to get what he’s saying, too caught up with processing the closeness you find yourself to him. 

“Can I?”

You nod. His fingertips trace along your bare skin, causing shivers to rise. The touch doesn’t seem to leave him cold either, you can feel it; the slight, but noticeable trembling of his hands.

Choso positions you how he desires; his hands circling your wrist, putting it close to your waist, the other hanging loosely on your side. His fingertips glide along your jawline before he slightly angles your face towards him. You have no other choice but to look at him. 

The way he watches you, eyes hazed over with lust, is borderline feral. You swallow against the dryness of your mouth. 

You’re not sure if he even knows what he’s doing, it just seems like he just wants to press his hands onto you, with no end goal, no plan. You shudder at the brush of his fingertips against your skin.

Both of you forgot all about the painting, the only thing that is important now is his hot hands on you. His palms glide along your sides before they rest on your thighs. His figure encompasses you fully now, you bask in his warmth, his scent. 

You think he must hear it, the way your heart beats against your ribcage and your shallow, fast breathing. 

But his gaze is laced with uncertainty, an almost pleading, questioning look in his dark eyes. Apparently, he has no idea that he has you in the palm of his hand, quite literally. 

Choso hesitates once his hands smooth over your thighs. 

His voice is barely above a whisper, so low you hardly understand him. “Let me see.”

A little gasp drops past your lips and you’re not sure how a complete stranger has such a command over you. 

You open your legs for him, slowly, deliberately. 

He sinks down to his knees, practically facing your slick pussy. You can feel his breath against your skin.

For one hour you stood naked in front of a dozen of people. Yet, you don’t think you’ve ever felt this exposed. 

You’re about to close your legs again, but his hands dig into your soft flesh, halting your movement.

“Please, can I?” His voice almost breaks, dripping with need.

You’re not sure what exactly he asks for, but you comply willingly. You nod eagerly, as he peers up at you, his gaze hazed over with lust.

The meeting of his lips on your skin draws a strained gasp from you. He worships you, pressing feathery kisses onto your thighs, first paying attention to one thigh and then to the other. Slowly he works his way to your core. Your hands grip the edge of your seat, your heart beating so violently against your chest it may spring out of it.

Your skin burns where he touched you, the anticipation of having him where you need him the most nearly breaking you apart. The air hits your slick vulva, making apparent how feverishly you desire him. 

You slightly arch your back in an instinctual search for more. He complies eagerly, and as you feel his tongue lazily tracing along your pussylips you let out a low, relieved sigh. He groans at your taste, his hands grabbing at the meat of your thighs. 

He works awfully slow, licking slow stripes up your slit, carefully veering around your clit. You slightly rut into his face, making him hum against your core, the low vibrations of it making you gasp. Your thighs were already becoming slick with your arousal.

His hands tighten around your thighs, holding himself back, restraining himself from giving you his all. Choso has you squirming with anticipation. 

“Please,” you hum, snaking a hand down to tug on his black hair. 

And again, he complies. He licks at your clit, lazily, almost teasingly. A breathless moan drops from your parted lips. The sound travels straight to his cock, throbbing desperately in his taut pants. 

You gasp in surprise as he moves, letting your legs rest on his broad shoulders, holding your waist to stop you from falling off the edge of the chair. 

He buries his face between your thighs greedily. All his teasing patience has subsided. His tongue laps at your folds and lips, with an almost brutal pace. Your hands tug harder at his hair once his lips seal around your clit, sucking hard. 

You whine desperately, your eyes almost rolling back to your skull. Finally, you have what you’ve longed for. 

He works like that, his tongue draws circles around your clit, sucking, lapping at your drenched folds, coaxing you into bliss. It almost sounds obscene, so wet, the way his face meets your messy, dripping pussy. He makes you feel so good, so unbelievably good.

Your eyes were half-lidded, your head was thrown back, until you felt him retreating. You perk up. His warm breath fans over your wet pussy, your soft pants and moans filling up the quiet room.

“Choso.” 

You look at him dumbfounded, brain clouded with lust. “What?” 

“My name. It’s Choso. You should know who makes you feel this good,” he murmurs sheepishly, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he looks at you tenderly through his half-lidded eyes.

You let out a surprised laugh, which bleeds into a high-pitched whine as he buries his face between your legs once more. 

You moan his name, letting it roll off your leaden tongue tentatively, causing him to groan desperately against you. 

You meet his eyes, as he circles your entrance. He moves impossibly closer, fucking you with his tongue. His face becomes blurred as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten. 

He flips his tongue on your puffy clit, before he sucks hard, having you call out his name as you tip over the edge.

You cum, hard. The whole tension that has been building up before discharges at this moment. 

Your thighs squish around his messy face as he guides you through your high with his skilled mouth. 

His name drops from your parted lips, again and again, like a prayer. He holds you steady with his large hands, as your whole body trembles. 

When he lets go of you, his face is drenched. The look of reverence in his eyes as he peers up at you makes your chest swell with affection. 

You let out a breathy, nervous chuckle. “Nice to meet you, Choso.”

©sweetdreamlandstuff

[dweebsqueeze]

Submission Of A Pervert

CHOSO X READER

♡ RATING: 18+, MINORS DON’T INTERACT

♡ CW/TW: smut, sub!choso, dom!reader, panty theft, foot on bulge, self deprecating talk,  humiliation, teasing, praise, dubious behavior, obsession, orgasm denial, gagging sb. with panties, penetration, oral (fem receiving), fingering, kissing, degradation, mentions of voyeurism/exhibitionism, creamp!e, unprotected s*x, choso likes to ramble and he is very nervous.

♡ WORD COUNT: 5.7k

♡ SYNOPSIS: You have been crushing on your friend’s older brother for as long as you’ve known him. The way the older male carried himself in such a kind and gentle way, paired with his good looks, has never failed to fascinate you. Yet, he never seemed to see you as a woman, always treating you as his brother’s best friend and nothing more, because you weren’t more to him, even after becoming roommates.

- At least that is what you thought, until you caught him stealing your panties

♡ A/N: This is part of @priestesstoru‘s pervert collab! Make sure to check it out!

You’ve had your eyes on your best friend’s older brother ever since the both of you became friends and you got to visit his house for the first time.

Yuji’s brother was barely two years older than the both of you, but back when you were a doe-eyed, innocent kid, even that little age difference made him seem like a grown-up to you. The difference in maturity seemed to only grow as all of you got older.

Keep reading

[dweebsqueeze]

18 + || NO MINORS OR BLANK BLOGS

CONTENT WARNING: smut + afab!reader (reader has a vigina and wears a strap. But no pronouns are used.) + smut + strap on + dom!reader (kinda ...reader tops) + switch!denki + hardly edited

WORDS: a little over 500

Your hands claw into the meat of his pretty skin. Thick cored tendons flex beneath your fingers as he continues to bounce on your pink silicone strap.

Sweat glistens as it begins to bead on both your skin. You can't help but stare up in awe as Denki pleases himself.

The tight ring of muscle of his ass squeezes the slick appendage. He cries out after bucking your hips upwards. His bright eyes are pricked with tears and you can't help but smirk.

“Such a good boy.” Your voice holds nothing but fondness.

Preening his head lulls sideways. Denki's blonde hair sticks to his skin but he doesn't mind.

A blissful smile etched his lips. “Oh shut up…” he pants before letting out a deep groan. The curved end of your faux member hits just right!

Denki arches his back. You can't help but eye his perky nipples and silky skin stretched over rippling muscles. Your hand slides up the wide expanse of his chest.

“I just can't believe I have you on my cock.” You mean it. There is a tone of reverence in your voice.

Cheeks now dusted pink, Denki rolls his hips slowly. Each rock is deep as it presses against the button of pleasure deep inside him. Each press pushes him further and further to the edge of spilling over. He chases it. Quick and fast. Eyes sliding shut, he reaches back gripping your thighs.

His cock bounced eagerly. It's so pretty with its leaking red tip. Pre cum beads the top sliding down the swollen shaft to the base where his blonde pubes dust his skin.

Your cheeks feel hot and your thighs are on fire as you rock with his movements but you can't seem to stop. The friction of the strap rubs your mound causing your slick to build up. You can practically feel it pool around your throbbing cunt. Reaching outwards your fingers trace the weeping tip of his cock. Gently your hand wraps around the fleshy shaft, tickling the underside.

"Fuck!" He breathes and the action sends sparks down your spine. The dim room seems to crack with electricity. "You're so good."

It feels magical watching Denki ride you. His hair frames his face like a halo and the rainbow led lights of his room adorn him like a crown. The experience itself feels holy almost.

"I'm not gonna last long." He mutters between breaths.

"Please cum on me!" God is that your voice? It's so deprecated and needy. You can't help but flush, biting your lip with embarrassment.

He laughs at your moaning before letting out a soft 'oh'.

Hot cum shoots up the planes of your chest. Denki lets out small whines as his poor cock drips on you. "Fuck…" wordless prayers continue to leave his lips milking himself dry.

Soon his hips slowly come to a stop. The two of you breathing heavily, can't help but smile.

"Now…" He says lifting off the silicon cock with a pop. A devilish smirk dances on his lips. "...I think it's your turn."

[dweebsqueeze]

THIS SERIES IS SO GOOD I LOVE CHOSO SM💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Series Masterlist

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Female Reader, Choso Kamo x Female Reader

Summary: Pro-skater, all around fuckboy and your casual fling of a year, Suguru never hesitates to remind you that you are a hookup and a hookup only. When another pro-skater threatens to fill the role Suguru has refused multiple times, will Suguru finally step up to the plate?

Genre: Skater AU

Story Warning: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Toxic Behavior, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior

Suguru Art: YUD

Choso Art: @affectbitter

Chapters:

Drop-In(1) ◦ Frontside 180(2) ◦ Nose Grind(3) ◦ Vert Ramp(4) ◦ Hardflip(5) ◦ Double Grab(6) ◦ 50-50 Grind(7) ◦ Chapter 8

[dweebsqueeze]

Chapter 1 - Drop-in

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Female Reader, Choso Kamo x Female Reader

Summary: Pro-skater, all around fuckboy and your casual fling of a year, Suguru never hesitates to remind you that you are a hookup and a hookup only. When another pro-skater threatens to fill the role Suguru has refused multiple times, will Suguru finally step up to the plate?

Warning: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Toxic Behavior, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior

Suguru Art: YuOekk

Choso Art: @DmD_0_03

“Fuck– ngh , yeah baby. Just like that.”

Suguru’s hands grip your waist hard as you grab onto his shoulders. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of kisses as you slowly lower yourself onto his cock. You’re both on the couch, naked with you straddling him after a heavy makeout session. This is usually what your time “chilling” with Suguru led to – his body either hovering over or laying under yours as his hips drive into you until you can’t see straight.

You watch Suguru’s eyes roll back, his lips parting with a soft sigh when your ass meets his lap, you fully enveloping him.

“Oh… shit . Give me a minute, babe,” he sighs, sucking in a sharp breath as he tries to steady himself. But you don’t want to give him a minute. You’d missed him and you wanted nothing more than to lose yourself in him before he was gone again.

You lift yourself up slightly, pulling a quiet hiss from Suguru as his grip on your waist tightens.

“Wait, baby–”

You pushed your hips down hard, both of you moaning loudly as you revel in the feeling of Suguru’s dick filling you again and again. His hands move from your waist to slide down to hold your ass.

“I don’t wanna wait, Sugu. I need you so bad right now,” you whimper above him.

He leans forward, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss. You feel his hands press up against your ass, lifting you before slamming you back down onto his cock, the loud smack of skin meeting skin filling the room. You move to pull away from the kiss to cry out, but Suguru’s lips chase yours, refusing to break away. He nips at your lip, then slides his tongue smoothly into your mouth when he finally lets you catch your breath.

His hands are still controlling your movements as he claims your mouth, a deep guttural groan leaving him when you dig your nails into the skin of his shoulders to steady yourself. You want to hold him, kiss him, tell him how much you love being with him, but you don’t — you can’t. Instead, you focus on rolling your hips forward to take him deeper.

Suguru leans back, bouncing you up and down over his lap as he watches you. 

“I missed this pussy so much,” he grunts, eyes locked on where your bodies connect. “Whole time I was gone, I kept thinking about coming back to this – to you.”

Your heart swelled against your better judgment. You feel your body pulse, tightening Suguru and he moans. You lean forward, resting your forehead against his as he arches his back and thrusts up into you. He mutters a curse under his breath, speeding up his movements.

“I was thinking about you too, Suguru,” you confess.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He moans at your confirmation, driving his hips into you harder. You tighten your grip on his shoulders as you ride his cock faster and faster. His hands move back to your waist, and you watch as the muscles of his forearms strain as he lifts you up just to slam you right back down on his cock. You whimper every time you feel your ass slap against his thighs.

“Sit back, baby. I wanna watch you cum on my dick,” he says and you do as he asks. You lean back, holding on to his shoulders as you feel the coil in your abdomen begin to tighten.

You take in the view below you – Suguru with his hair loose and plastered to his forehead with sweat, cheeks flushed and completely lost in you.

He arches his back beneath you, pushing his hips up to grind against you as he slides his hands back to your bottoms and digs his fingers into the meat of your ass. 

He’s fucking you hard, his breaths coming rapidly as he begins to babble, completely lost in the moment.

“You’re mine” he grunts. “You’re mine. This pussy is mine.” 

You whimper quietly, trying to control the way your heart is damn near about to beat out of your chest at Suguru’s words.

“Say it,” he demands, leaning forward to kiss your throat.

You shake your head, knowing you’re in for a world of hurt if you listen to him.

“Please, baby,” he begs. “I need to hear it. Please. Tell me you’re mine. Say it .”

You moan above him, the coil in your abdomen threatening to snap as Suguru pumps into you and pleads for you to tell him you’re his. And you want to tell him you’re his, because you are. You know it and sometimes you think Suguru knows it, but you can’t tell him that. You know you can’t.

In an effort to stop Suguru’s begging, you push him back and slam your lips to his, grinding down hard on his cock. Suguru moans loudly into your mouth and the sound is so fucking sexy, you have no time to prepare yourself for the intense orgasm that crashes over you. Your pussy squeezing down on Suguru brings him to his own release and he’s muttering strained proclamations to you about how much he needs you, how you’re his, and you try your best to ignore him, though the fluttering in your stomach won’t stop.

“Fuck—“ Suguru groans, brows knitted together as he slows his motions. You’re resting your face against his shoulder, breathing hard against him as he keeps thrusting slowly into you. “Shit, you’re amazing.” He turns his head to place a kiss to your temple, still thrusting into you as you hum in acknowledgment.

————

You’re lying in bed with Suguru, your limbs intertwined as you hold each other. You’re deep in thought because despite your best efforts, your mind is reeling from Suguru’s earlier words. You couldn’t tell if he was just caught up in the moment, rambling about you being his and only his or if he truly meant it. You could never tell with him after all this time.

You and Suguru had been casually sleeping together for the better part of a year. A mutual friend had introduced you two at the skatepark where you were completing a photography shoot. You were instantly stricken by Suguru and his intense, piercing, dark eyes. The first time you’d met, he had his long black hair tied up in a loose bun since he’d just come from practice. He’d spent the remainder of his afternoon watching you shoot other skateboarders for the sports magazine you worked for, finally asking you to dinner. You said yes immediately, then ended up in his bed before your third date.

You weren’t sure if you could actually say you were dating since Suguru never took you out, or introduced you to his friends. Not to mention, he was sleeping with other women when he traveled for skate competitions.

While Suguru was funny, charming and incredibly sexy, he was also a bit of an asshole, flippant and if you were honest…a fuck boy if you’d ever seen one. He does whatever he wants. He travels for his skate competitions and you never know what the hell he’s doing or who he’s with. And you don’t ask anymore. You’d learned your lesson the hard way when the last time you’d asked, Suguru had made you feel like you were being so crazy you just ended up apologizing to him and never asking about his activities again.

Now, you just meet up whenever Suguru has time. You go to his practices when you can to grab additional skate photographs and you go on the occasional date with other men to distract yourself from the fact that you are absolutely in love with this asshole.

But he doesn’t want anything more than to bury himself as deep as he can inside you whenever he wants without so much as taking you out to dinner first. You’re not sure when you became just his casual hookup, but it’s all Suguru sees you as now. You know you should cut your losses and move on…but you can’t.

You want more from him, and you know you’ll never get it, but every time he tells you you’re his, a false sense of hope tricks you into staying.

Suguru shifting besides you pulls your focus back to him. He’s standing now, moving to the living room to grab his pants. You follow after him and you know you shouldn’t ask this, but the words leave your mouth before you can stop them.

“Suguru, I have to ask you something,” you start.

He grabs his pants and boxers from the floor. “What’s up?” He asks, casual as ever.

“D-did you mean what you said?”

“Mean what?”

You hesitate for a second, not sure if you really want an answer, but you needed to be sure so you push forward. 

“That I’m yours and only yours?”

You’re fidgeting with your fingers now, awaiting his answer. He slides his boxers on before turning to you.

“Oh, I was just talking. You know how I get when we’re fucking,” he says easily. 

You chuckle nervously, eyes tracking him as he moves across the room to pick his shirt up from the arm of the couch.

“Right…”

He glances at you over his shoulder as he slides his pants up. “Yeah, I mean, we’re not together. Don’t take what I say so seriously when I’m balls deep, babe.”

You can’t help the way you flinch when he dismisses you. You knew you shouldn’t have asked. You knew you’d only get your feelings hurt with this question. Stupid. Suguru clearly only saw you as a hookup. You know you should cut your losses, but you couldn’t. Despite Suguru not having any feelings for you, you couldn’t say you felt the same. You cared deeply for him and it’s why you had such a hard time letting him go.

Suguru pulls his shirt on before he slips on his shoes. “Anyway, I gotta get to practice. You coming by to take some pics later?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a few hours. Just need to edit some other pictures and get my equipment together.”

“Cool,” he says, opening the door without looking back. “See you there.”

He closes the door behind him and you’re left standing, alone as always.

————

You climb the steps to the skatepark eagerly, the sounds of the wheels hitting pavement only making you move faster. Peering up, you could see the forms of the skaters spinning in the air, falling gracefully with their board beneath their feet to carry them to the other side of the skate ramp or bowl. 

You spotted Suguru, preparing to drop-in to the bowl. You turned your camera on, bringing it up to your eye to capture Suguru in all his glory. He turned his head at the sudden flash, giving you a quick nod before dropping into the bowl. You watched him closely, snapping a few pictures when you remembered you were actually here to work.

Watching Suguru skate was mesmerizing. He clearly loved his sport. He put in the work and the time to perfect his craft and he was damn good. It was why he was a sponsored professional. You followed the way his hair whipped behind him with the rush of the wind as he came up the side of the bowl and straight into the air, bending his knees to grab his board and spin maybe three times? You couldn’t tell, your finger hitting the shutter button to capture the perfect moment.

This is what you loved – taking photographs of people doing what they enjoyed most. Being a sports photographer meant being able to capture people’s passions and you couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

As you scrolled through the pictures of Suguru, you catch another form out of the corner of your eye. You glance over, your eyes meeting the broad back of a stranger. Tall, with clearly expensive taste - you could tell by the very nice clothes he donned along with…were those Prada combat boots? He had his hair tied up in unruly pigtails and it was only when he finally turns around that you see the tattooed line that spread across his cheeks and meet on the bridge of his nose.

You had seen him around before at different parks, but you had never spoken with him. He always seemed to vanish into thin air before you could catch him and you never got around to asking Suguru if he knew him.

You watch the stranger drop into the bowl, his movements smooth as he sails into the air, flipping his board beneath those designer boots and landing as if it were nothing. You lift your camera as he does it again, hitting the shutter button repeatedly. You don’t have to review the shots to know they’re amazing. There’s something about him that makes it impossible for you to tear your eyes away.

When he emerges from the bowl, casually kicking his board up into his hand, you snap a few more pictures before you decide to approach.

“Excuse me,” you call out to him with a wave.

He looks you over and as you get closer you can see the bags under his eyes. He looks positively exhausted, but something about it is so…alluring. He gives you a lazy smile, waving as you approach.

“Hey. Haven’t seen you here before,” he says coolly. 

“Oh, I’m always around. I’ve seen you a few times. I’ve just had such a hard time catching you.”

“Hmm,” he shifts his board to his other hand as he shrugs. “Well. You got me now.”

As you get closer, you really take in his appearance. He’s incredibly handsome, a deep sexy voice that makes your stomach flutter with excitement every time he opens his mouth. With beautiful dark eyes that stay locked on yours as you both speak, you’re already enthralled.

You tell him your name and he repeats it back to you a few times, each time sounding a little sexier than the last.

“I’m Choso,” he reaches his hand out to shake yours and you can’t ignore the immediate spark you feel when your skin touches his. It makes your pulse quicken.

Choso nods to your camera, “Taking pics for fun?”

“Oh,” you glance quickly down at your camera. “Sort of. I’m a sports photographer. Specifically, I manage the skating articles so I’m usually hanging around the popular skating spots.”

“Nice,” He compliments, seemingly impressed. “You didn’t happen to get any pics of me, did you?”

You smile as you fidget with the buttons on your camera before holding it out to him. He takes it with his free hand, giving you a puzzled look before you point to the arrow buttons.

“I’ve been taking pictures of you for a while. Like I said, I haven’t been able to catch you to show you.” Choso smiles shyly at this and you can’t help but return his expression. “Scroll through. I think I got some good ones of you today and the last few times.”

He navigates through your photos, brows rising as he looks over your work.

“ Wow , I see why you’re doing this. These are insanely good.”

You beam at him, stepping closer to him to look at the camera screen in his hand, “You really think so?”

He nods, and you feel your cheeks warm at the compliment, your heart racing as you mutter a thank you. 

You’re going through the photos with Choso as he tells you about himself – how long he’s been skating, what trick he was doing in whatever photo you’re looking at, why he skates. You learn he’s a newly sponsored professional skater and he has three younger brothers who he skates to take care of. 

“Eso, Kechizu and Yuuji.” He lists his brother’s names to you, grinning as he names off different facts about each one. “They’re all great, but Yuuji is the baby, so I kind of spoil him. I’d give him anything he wants as long as he calls me Big Brother. He’s adorable.”

“Really? How old is he?” You ask, fully expecting to hear about a small child only to burst into laughter when you find out Yuuji’s a teenager . 

“You have a really nice laugh,” he says suddenly. Your eyes widen at the unexpected compliment but you thank him anyway.

Choso is a little odd. Even so, in the short time you get to know Choso, you find yourself in awe of him. He’s sweet, soft spoken and seems like an all around good person.

“You’re easy to talk to and really funny, Choso. I’m sure if we keep running into each other at the parks in the future, you’ll be making me laugh until my sides hurt.”

Choso watches you closely, not speaking. After a moment, he hands you your camera back, sliding his free hand into his pocket while he fidgets with his skateboard with the other.

“So…I know we just met like twenty minutes ago, but do you wanna get dinner tonight? I have to drop my brother off at a friend's place, but can we meet up later?” He pauses for a second before adding, “I’d love to hear that laugh more.”

A wide grin spreads across your face, your cheeks burning. You had gone on your fair share of dates recently, but this was the first you’d actually felt excited about. You typically agreed knowing you would be comparing whoever the poor soul was to Suguru. But right now, you only had eyes for the exhausted looking man before you. You looked Choso over, his cool and calm demeanor now replaced with nervousness as he restlessly fidgeted with his skateboard, awaiting an answer.

Before you could speak, you felt an arm slither across your shoulders, pulling you into a hard, warm body. You peered up through your lashes to find Suguru standing next to you. He nodded to Choso, fixing him with a smile that was very obviously not genuine to anyone who truly knew Suguru.

“What’s going on here?” He asked, now aiming his tight smile down at you. You froze, looking from him to Choso who looked between you and Suguru, taking in the sight of Suguru’s arm around you.

“My bad, man. I was just asking her out, but I didn’t know she had a boyfriend,” Choso apologized.

Suguru hummed, simply acknowledging the statement but saying nothing more. It reminded you of your earlier conversation with him in your apartment before he left you standing alone like he always did.

I mean, we’re not together. Don’t take what I say so seriously when I’m balls deep, babe.

His words echo through your head as you stand between the two men – one who was clearly interested in you and wanted to know you more. The other who you had history with who you couldn’t get to commit to lunch plans. The answer was so simple now.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you stated and you don’t miss how Suguru’s arm tenses around your shoulders. “We’re not dating or anything, just good friends. Right, Suguru?”

You shrug his arm off, looking up at him to return his fake smile. Suguru recovers quickly, muttering “ right ” as you step forward, holding your hand out to Choso.

“I’d love to get dinner with you tonight. Give me your phone and I’ll put my number in. You can call me later to solidify plans.”

“Oh, it’s in my car. I never skate with it on me. Give me yours and I’ll put my number in.” Choso offers instead.

“My phone is also in my car. Can’t risk dropping it when I’m shooting.”

You both chuckle at how similar you seem to be before you continue, “Okay, walk me to my car? I’ll get your number and we can talk plans.”

Choso agrees, tucking his skateboard underneath his arm.

“Didn’t we have plans for later?” Suguru interrupts.

If you were being honest, you’d forgotten he was there for a moment.

“Oh, well…rain check then?” You propose.

Suguru nods slowly, watching you and Choso turn to head towards the parking lot, laughing and too caught up in conversation to say goodbye to him. 

“Sure,” he mumbles to himself. You’re so entranced with Choso, you don’t even notice the way Suguru glares daggers into your backs until he can’t see you anymore.

[dweebsqueeze]

This is so good I’m crying🥹😭

Say You Love Me Too

Soft!Dom Choso x Fem!Reader Oneshot (Modern AU)

tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, we gettin DOWN, best friend to lovers trope, comfort smut, choso’s a little obsessed with you, okay maybe alot obsessed, alot alot alot alot aLOT of praise, words of affirmation, scent kink if you super squint, oral sex (f receiving), nipple play, penetrative sex, raw sex, multiple orgasms, mention of a safeword but not used, one mention of cervix f*cking, one mention of drinking, aftercare and cuddles

summary: you’re venting to your best friend and he accidentally confesses to you

~4.6k words

thanks for reading and enjoy<3

_________________

“So, whats going on with you?”

You peer up at Choso over the tea he brewed from the plant riddled kitchen in his apartment, the steam obscuring his expression and thankfully your own. Although you could guess with certainty that he was searching your body language for any sign of discontent.

“Ah, nothing.” 

Feigned nonchalance lines your voice, and you take another big chug of herbal liquid before setting ceramic onto mahogany. The tabletop just below your crossed ankles sports an assortment of neatly stacked books and unused marble coasters. Choso seemed to only display them for show, citing the ringless surface of his coffee table as justification for his laziness. 

You two were catching up after you had asked Choso if you could come hang out. You hadn’t bothered waiting for him to reply, only reading that he had texted you back with a ‘yeah, door’s unlocked’ once you were standing outside.

He had dropped the chore he was doing to hug you as soon as you made it across the threshold, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes as you discreetly memorize his cologne. It’s a fresh, calming scent you could never fully place except in association with him.

Maybe you paid a little too much attention to that brief embrace, but you set aside your thoughts as you notice Choso staring at you expectantly. The fog of tea was gone, and you know that look. It had taken you years to recognize previously. Now, it is glaringly obvious as he sits across from you.

He drapes an arm over the back of the couch, “Everything alright? Is this about that guy you told me about?”

A corner of your mouth pulls down for a second, Choso could read you too easily.

“Oh, him?” You begin, and then you ultimately resign to clicking your tongue while making a slicing motion across your neck.

The space between his eyebrows furrows with concern, “What happened?”

You bite the flesh of your bottom lip, hesitating.

“Tell me.” Choso presses a large fist into his cheek, resting his elbow atop his thigh and staring at you intently.

It seems impossible for him to regard you with any sort of gaze less than piercing. In fact, Choso’s default state tends to sit in the realm of perceptiveness and placidity. It definitely came with the territory of having to watch over his little brothers for the entirety of his life thus far. He often had a hard time shutting off his protective instincts, even with his friends. Of course, that includes you.

You shrug under the intensity and partially dodge it by picking your tea back up, “He ghosted me.”

Choso reels back, offended on your behalf and tilting his head to the side with a disbelieving scoff. 

“What the fuck?”

“It's okay, it was a couple weeks ago. I’m pretty much over it, just stings a little.” You trace a finger over the rim of your beverage, glancing at him and emitting anything but confidence.

You were over your last dating attempt, but the cowardly rejection still hurt your self-confidence. It was difficult for you to accept that someone you saw potential in had neglected your feelings, and worse, for an ungiven reason. It almost makes you doubt yourself, and you hate that.

Choso makes a contemplative noise, probably reading more of your thoughts.

The idea of that forces you to straighten your posture, “I mean there’s nothing else to it. I thought we had a connection, we liked a lot of the same shit…great sex...” 

You give him a sideways glance.

Choso barely moves as you speak. The only time he does is when he blinks or swallows, the sweep of his lengthy eyelashes and dip of his Adam’s Apple punctuating his wordless reactions. The pale column of his throat stretches towards the hollow shapes of his collarbone, and you admire how they complement the strong silhouette of his shoulders. His entire frame is bulky and tall, which he claims is convenient during instances where he has to split up his younger brothers’ fights or during times when you get so plastered that he has to carry you home. The structured, milky planes of his skin are sharply contrasted by every other feature that defines the fine structure of his handsome face, all velvet, dark eyes and messily bundled strands of hair in deep shades of midnight. Even the swipe of black across his nose boldly complements the pretty set of his nose and lips. It was often a habit of Choso’s to absentmindedly tap the middle of the mark whenever he was thinking, coupled with clenching his jaw when annoyed or working hard on a task. The purpled skin underneath his lower lashes gave him a boredom marked countenance, but the gloom seemed to consistently disappear whenever he smiled.

As close as you are with him, it was sometimes hard to talk about your sex life with Choso when he always looked…like that.

Part of you has always been attracted to him, but friendship was safer. At least, that’s what you told yourself. He never said anything otherwise either, and you didn’t suspect he would.

It’s difficult to tear away from him, but you persuade your vision to analyze the cracks between the sofa cushions instead.

“Guess I missed some red flags.” You finish lamely.

Choso shakes his head, “Don’t blame yourself. That guy’s an idiot.”

You wave a hand into the air, “It’s whatever.”

“It’s not ‘whatever’.” Choso catches your eye.

You can see the broad movement of his chest tensing underneath his shirt, and the grit of his teeth in the set square of his jaw.

“I mean it’s happened before. Maybe he just had some things to work on emotionally and wasn’t ready. It’s okay.” You suggest, though you know you were being too nice with that explanation.

“It’s not. He’s an asshole.” Choso repeats, his tone even yet filled with immense reproach.

He doesn’t seem angry despite the slight scowl on his face, more frustrated. You’re not certain why though, so you decide to be blunt.

“Choso, what are you getting so worked up about?” 

Choso opts for bluntness as well, scoffing incredulously, “You don’t deserve that and you shouldn’t be making excuses for him.”

You’re a bit annoyed now, it already stung and you expected at least some consolation, not to be lectured.

“You don’t think I know that? God, you’re being an asshole.” 

His jaw clicks, and you dare him to say something with your eyes.

Choso goes quiet, settling in his seat as he lowers his sightline. 

You wonder if you were too harsh as the air in the room seems to still. Not knowing what to say, you reach out to take his hand in yours. He doesn’t look at you, but accepts your touch and delicately wraps his hand around yours. Silence descends over you both, and a shiver runs through you as Choso brushes the tops of your knuckles with his thumb.

Then, he lifts his head. His eyes are set on yours, and you know something has revealed a shadow of itself in the way he considers you. An inexplicable something.

Somehow, you know exactly what it is.

“I would have never done that to you.” Choso finally says.

As soon as the promise leaves his mouth and your eyes widen in reaction, he bows his head and touches the smooth skin of his forehead to where your hands are still woven together.

“Shit. Sorry. Don’t say anything. Please.” He intakes a breath and you blink upon hearing the tremor running through it, “Now’s not the right time for that.”

“Choso.” You let go of his hand, cradling his face instead.

He allows it, but immediately drops his gaze once you make eye contact and tries to subtly pull back from your grasp.

“No- Sorry, I just-sorry. That’s not-” He stops himself, opting to press his lips together and seal them.

Gently, you slide your hands down to the back of his neck, tucking your chin to see if you can convince him to look at you again.

“Say it.”

Hesitation, and then you feel him melting into your touch. The skin of his cheeks is cold, but when he speaks the warmth of his breathing skirts past the heels of your palms.

“I love you.” He swallows, like the admission is poisoning him, “I…want you.”

You’ve never seen Choso appear so hopeless or apologetic. 

Like it broke his heart to say it.

You don’t let the admission sink in for more than a second. You tug him forward and sense his hands startle until they automatically anchor into your waist the deeper your lips meet.

A desperate type of flavor colors the kiss, your entire body heating with unrestrained fervor as Choso’s hands move down your body and hook into your thighs. He easily hoists you up and sits you on his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist and swooning when he lets out a small moan between your lips.

Choso’s thumbs knead into the skin underneath your shirt, “Can we-”

“Yes.” You answer, and he bestows more eager kisses to your lips.

You feel him standing and you wrap your arms around his neck, swiping your tongue across his bottom lip as Choso carries you into his bedroom. Once your back hits the cool surface of his sheets, you start unbiasedly gripping fistfuls of his clothing to get it off.

“The couch would’ve been fine.” You mumble as he drags your shirt over your head.

“No.” He cages you between his arms, which are wiry and lined with veins you want to lick, “You said you hated my couch when I first moved here.”

You laugh at him remembering, and he smiles into the next kiss he gives you.

“Only the best for you.” 

“So sweet.” You kiss him back, your stomach fluttering at his genuine words.

He starts shrugging your pants off of your hips, “Something about you makes me like this.”

As soon as you’re both stripped down to your underwear, the want you hold for each other slowly takes over. You fully explore the mind hazing feeling of his tongue gliding against yours, looping your saliva together and roaming your hands over each other’s skin.

A groan leaves Choso when your fingertips stroke against the fabric tented over his hardon, his grip on you tightening and you start getting shy.

Because, well, it’s Choso.

You only ever fucked him in your head and he was pretty private about what he liked from his exes.

He seems to notice your apprehension immediately, his nose hovering by the shell of your ear, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know what to do. With you.” You sheepishly admit.

The edge of his lip grazes your ear, “You don’t have to do anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, I’ll prove it.” Choso reassures, kissing your cheek, “Just give me a safe word.”

Before you can stop yourself, you tauntingly blurt out, “Couch.”

An astounded laugh leaves him, “You suck.”

“Aw, I love you too.” You respond, smirking at the immediate effect it has on him.

He bites his bottom lip to keep from grinning, but it breaks out across his face anyway.

“Come here.” Choso leans down to capture your lips once more, mumbling sweet nothings as he trails kisses down the curves of your neck.

“Leave it to me.” He whispers, licking a spot at the base of your throat and nipping the sensitive skin there.

“I’ll make you feel good. Want to.” Choso continues, tracing your body with touches of his lips and hands so dedicated to pleasing you that you become wracked with trembles.

He tweaks your nipples with pinches of his fingers, teasing the taut peaks further with his tongue. 

“Ah, Ch-Choso.” You arch your back, clutching at one of his hands as he uses the other to push the side of your hip flat to his bed.

“Wait.” He softly instructs, continuing to squeeze and lick your tits until you’re squirming underneath him.

Rushes of adrenaline roll down your body, collecting in your thudding core and visibly leaking your excitement into the cloth covering your sex. Choso is patient and attentive, and you wonder how embarrassing it would be if you came just from him playing with your tits.

Choso breathlessly rubs his thumbs back and forth over your nipples, concentrating on the growing splotch between your legs and your whimpering lips.

“Is this turning you on? You’re getting all wet. It’s cute.” 

You try to keep a straight face, but you know that it’s not working. Hiding from Choso never worked.

He openly chuckles at the sight of you struggling, and you shiver from the low reverberation of it.

Choso coos at your obvious need, “Okay, okay. I’ll stop teasing.” 

One last kiss to the marks he left on your chest, and then he crouches down to adorn the middle of your waist with a slow path of kisses to where you want him the most.

“So wet. Fuck, I’m getting so hard.” He mutters, pressing his lips to each side of your inner thighs.

“You don’t mind right?” He pulls at the waistband of your underwear, the sizable imprint of your arousal drenching the front.

“No.” You say quickly, bucking your hips into his face, “Want it. Please.” 

He unfurls his tongue, using the pointed tip to draw a pensive line down the thin material ruined by your desperate cunt.

“I want it too.” 

Sounds of satisfaction leave him more and more as he adds to the slick staining your panties. He kisses along the hems and then finally bunches them past your ankles to unceremoniously toss them on the floor.

Choso takes in the messy view of your pussy for mere seconds, and then he’s gripping at your bare ass to languidly stroke up and down your folds with the pink of his tongue. 

As frantic and filthy as his motions are, he takes his time when his tongue starts swiping into your slick warmth. 

You think he might be talking between noisy gulps of pussy, but you honestly aren’t listening and far more focused on how his nose periodically nestles against your clit. The malleable swells of your ass are spread apart by Choso as he continuously drools and bends his tongue into your excited walls.

He seems to like how your fluids dribble along his tongue, beading into his throat and giving him mouthfuls of your cunt.

The enthusiasm he has is so endearing that you reach for his hands, wanting to reciprocate with some sort of connection. The skim of skin has him glimpsing up at you before he takes both of your hands in his.

Choso’s thumb steadily rubbing across the tense grooves of your knuckles is so different from the firm, dizzying laps of his tongue, but you adore them both. 

Once he’s collected enough of your precum on the flat of his tongue, he starts making long licks up the seams of your pussy that end with aggressively circling his tongue around the swollen flesh of your clit. Sucking at your clit, he devours every creamy drop of lust from your pussy so fast and well that you can hardly tell if he’s breathing anymore.

You possess a similar struggle, your vision turning to static and your breath continuously getting caught in your chest from how good he’s eating you up. 

He’s moaning unbiasedly into you, like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted. Like every squishy piece of your cunt is saturated with pure sugar and sex.

Choso then lets go of one of your hands, reaching his fingertips over your thigh and then placing the tips on your soaked nub. He rubs it back and forth, pressing the pads down in a bliss inducing pattern as he keeps fucking open your cunt with his tongue.

You feel every tastebud on his tongue twisting against your walls as far as he can reach, the hum of his lips buzzing electricity throughout your core.

It’s so good that you don’t even realize how many times you’ve already cummed into his mouth. All you can do is flinch and surrender under his keen administrations.

Wanton cries part your lips, and although your vision is blurry you manage to see Choso giving your wetness one last lick before he rises to kneel in front of you.

He keeps giving your clit loving attention, forcing your hips into a taut curve as he tucks his thighs beneath yours and lines himself up to your pulsing sex.

You peek over your quivering breasts to see the defined shape of his dick, the hardness twitching and grooved with aching veins. He’s as big as you expected, and just seeing his girthy cock is already making your stomach ache and twist. The head is swollen thick with a slit sheened in precum, a glob of it slithering over the sides and forming a dewy drop next to the coarse nest of hair over his balls. He holds the base while looking into your eyes, and the thickness twitches in his hand.

“Say the safe word if you need it, okay?”

Choso makes sure you’re watching him, and at your faint nod, he starts pushing in.

He doesn’t stop mashing your clit back and forth with the stickied pads of his fingers, slowly stuffing you with his cock and bringing your hips together.

“W-wait. Choso-I’m about to-!”

You’re cumming again as he puts his dick in, sliding in so effortlessly it’s like he was always meant to be there.

“Oh, fuck!” You let out a whine as you begin recklessly fucking into each other, each synced push of your hips leaving you both gasping.

“Your cum feels so good on my dick.” Choso groans, the whites of his eyes showing as he reels his hips back.

“Want more of it. Gonna keep making you cum.” He pants, pumping faster and prodding at your cervix.

He hits an eye crossing spot in the ceiling of your pussy, and that’s when your whole body seizes again.

“Stay there. S-Stay, please please please, Choso.” You nearly black out between begs, but Choso doesn’t have to hear it more than once.

“I got you, here. Here.” He grunts, clasping your hands in his again to hit that spot within you until you’re screaming.

Choso stops to look at you every now and then, tenderly scanning your face to make sure you feel nothing but pleasure.

“Oh my god!” Your nails indent crescents into the backs of his hands and he slots his tongue into your mouth in time to hush your next delight filled mewl.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” You can feel every stutter of his hips, and his pupils are completely blown out as he urgently searches your eyes, “Wanna cum with me?”

“Mm,” You taste the salt of your tears pooling in the corners of your mouth, “Please, Choso. Now, please.”

Instead of answering, he kisses you, forcing you to only hear the sounds of his tongue in your mouth and the squish of your pussy as its molded into the shape of his dick. It pummels into your walls until you can’t deny each other any longer.

“I’m cumming- Ah- Choso-” You weakly confess, Choso’s ropy gushes of cum following the spurts of heady fluid from your overwhelmed pussy.

“Good girl.” He says, observing you through a half lidded squint and the cloudy lens of his own uncontrollable shudders, “Good girl. Good girl. Showing me how good you feel? Thank you.”

Wispy whines prelude Choso pulling out, and he soothes his hands over the ravaged areas of your body as you do your best to hold onto his neck and stop shaking.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He murmurs into your hair, delicately kissing a spot on your jawline, “You were so good for me. Perfect.”

He lays you onto the bed, cupping your chin and dotting your face with more kisses.

“I’m gonna clean you up, ‘kay?”

You make a tiny sound of agreement, and Choso rests a hand along your body as he makes his way off of the bed, only separating at the last possible moment.

He returns quickly, wiping you off with a warm, wet cloth and then taking you back in his arms while covering you with his fluffy comforter.

“Sorry I had to go.” Choso settles you on his chest, enveloping his hands behind your lower back.

“It’s okay, thank you.” You kiss the base of his neck, sighing into his skin.

“I really like you.” He says, and you poke fun at the sudden, timid proclamation. 

“I know,” You gesture to the marks he spotted all over your body, and at one you bit on the side of his throat, “I really like you too.”

“Yeah? Got a little crush?” He muses, preening at your proximity.

“Huge one.” You shift closer.

“That’s funny, me too.”

“Embarrassing.” You tease, moving your gaze to his cupid’s bow.

Choso lets out a long exhale, “I know. Can’t help it though.” 

You give him a happy peck on the lips, and he cradles the back of your head as he sweetly returns it.

A pout accompanies the wave of exhaustion that floods you when you pull away from Choso, “I want to keep talking to you, but I’m so sleepy.”

“We can talk for a little longer. Whatever you like, as long as I can keep holding you.” Choso bargains, and the offer makes your heart melt.

“Sounds fair to me.” You beam, and he kisses your forehead.

“My heart’s still beating like crazy.” He admits, skating his fingers around your face.

“Mine too.”

Choso’s fingertips fall to your lips, cascading along your chin and neck before settling between your shoulder blades. A thoughtful hum leaves him as he lightly rakes his fingers across the space of skin, studying the places he bruised on your neck.

He briefly presses his lips together, “Okay, I’m going to calm down.” 

Even as he says so, his breathing hitches when you wink at him.

“Okay, you do that.”

He inhales, and a beat of silence occupies the space between you too.

“God,” Choso cranes his neck to inch closer, “You smell so good.”

“Choso.” You admonish playfully, propping yourself up to create some distance.

“Okay, okay. I’m sleeping.”

He settles into the sheets, loosening his grip on you and pretending to close his eyes. You almost believe him, but your instinct doesn’t at all.

Handfuls of seconds tick by, and then he peeks his eyes open, an enamored smile cinching his mouth upwards.

“Hi.” You give him a cheeky wave with a couple of fingers.

“Hi.”

In an instant, he showers you with kisses, smushing your cheeks with a hand and making your heart swell.

“Okay. Now-” Another couple of sleepy kisses are paired with a content sound that you echo.

“I’m done.” He lets go of your face, sinking back against his pillow and genuine sleepiness now overtaking his voice.

“Goodnight.”

You snuggle into the nape of his neck, worn out from your shared affections, “Goodnight, Choso.”

_________________

The sun drapes its silken rays through Choso’s windows the next morning, muted orange urging you to wake.

A relaxing, undulating motion lulls you out of your slumber. You haven’t moved at all from your position on Choso’s chest, the solid muscle of his stature supporting your aching figure. The natural inclination to raise your head and check if Choso is awake becomes interrupted by the sensation of him tenderly stroking your hair.

And, he’s talking quietly.

“So beautiful, even asleep.” He tries to stifle a good natured laugh, but you still feel it a little between your hearts.

“I don’t think you even know how precious you are to me…how highly I think of you. I can talk to you about anything.”

“You’re gorgeous too. Drives me crazy.” He curls a strand of hair around your ear and repeats it more softly.

“...Gorgeous.”

Like it’s your name.

“I don’t think I’ve said all of this to you yet. At least when you’re awake. If you ever woke up during one of our camping trips or after party sleepovers I would probably die of embarrassment.”

He makes a thinking sound, and it ripples through you. You’re speechless.

“You know it’s kind of stupid, I always imagine talking to you. What you would say, how you might react to some good news I have. You exceed my expectations every time though. It’s pretty close to pathetic-”

Choso scoffs and it’s tinged with shame, “I hang on every word you say.”

The confession has you starstruck, you had been so clueless.

“I don’t even remember when I started falling for you, maybe a few months after we met? When I finally asked myself why I hated every guy you dated? Or, maybe after you met my brothers for the first time, and they told me I looked at you like you put the stars in the sky. I don’t think I realized it even then. Didn’t wanna freak you out, I didn’t want you to think I only wanted to be your friend to get in your pants. I’d fucking hate myself if you ever thought that.”

Deep exhales wash over you, “I hope I don’t fuck this up, for as long as you’ll have me.”

The dark haired man gives the top of your head a kiss, and then lets out another sigh.

“You’re my best friend. I love you. Every time I think about love, I think about you.”

He contemplatively plays with your hair, using another hand to draw random shapes into your back.

“I always, always think about you.”

The well of emotion in your heart nearly spills over, you don’t think anyone has ever told you anything close to the casual details Choso shares about his thoughts on you.

You try to keep your tears in, but Choso continues with a small snicker, “I’m getting ahead of myself…but that’s how I feel. I hope you wake up soon, I miss you.”

There’s a pause, and you finally can’t take it anymore, tears fall from your eyes at the doting words you unintendedly overheard.

“What’s going on? Hey, wake up.” Choso is immediately concerned, holding you close and tucking your hair away from your face.

“Nothing, I just - I’m really happy to wake up next to you. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt sooner.”

“That’s alright. You’re worth the wait.”

Choso never seems to run short of patience or kindness for you.

He wipes at your tears, “What are we going to do today?”

You cease your sniffling, pacified by his considerate assurances, “Um, I don’t know. It’s the weekend, we could get breakfast and then watch that movie we had been meaning to last night?”

“That sounds good.” Choso kisses your cheek.

You yawn after stretching your arms out, “Oh, do you have popcorn? I really want some.” 

“Some what?” Choso mumbles, caressing your sides.

“Are you even listening to me?” You jokingly narrow your eyes.

“Of course, hang on every word you say.” Choso lifts his chin, smirking.

You bring yourself nearer, nose to nose, “Oh, so you can compliment me when I’m awake too?”

He pales in epiphany, “That’s-”

You use a kiss to muffle his protest, “I was hanging on every word too. Believe me.”

Choso softens completely, a myriad of stars speckled in his eyes as he stares up at you. You drink in his utterly captivated face, the effort of last night dewing his features and blooming on his musculature. 

You know exactly what he’s thinking, and he confirms it when he speaks again.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Choso.”

_________________

End Notes:

i feel like choso likes plants bc he likes taking care of people/things🌱✨

comments and messages on this are appreciated if you'd like to leave one <3

[dweebsqueeze]

I wanna be his housewife 🥹🥹🥹

Great, now I can’t decide on being Yuji’s housewife or Yuji being my househusband. wuwuwuwuwuwu

Aww that is so true!! Both would be perfect!! I wrote some headcanons for both versions, so you can decide which one you prefer :)

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: 18+, some smutty scenes, oral, fingering, creampie. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

Version 1: Being Yuuji's housewife

Being Yuuji's housewife who stays at home while Yuuji, your hero, goes on missions to keep the city safe. Either as a Jujutsu sorcerer or as a firefighter. You are so proud of your husband, and anytime you tell him, he gets the cutest blush on his cheeks and the happiest smile on his handsome face.

Yuuji is so grateful for you to be so patient and understanding of his work schedule and that he sometimes has to leave the house at ungodly hours.

His job can be tough and emotionally draining. But anytime Yuuji looks at his lock screen on his phone and sees your face, he knows that he will make it through this day too because he knows at home you are waiting for him, ready to comfort him and love him, and that gives him the strength to go on.

"I am so lucky to have you, baby. Thank you so much for taking such good care of me!" Yuuji truly means it! It's so comforting to know that you are looking after the household, taking this weight off his shoulders, and making his apartment a real home filled with love and warmth.

There are also evenings when Yuuji comes home all riled up because he encountered some stuff at work that made him angry or sad, and now he needs you so much to help him fuck all those negative feelings away. He is so grateful that you let him take you as hard as he needs on those nights.

It's the best stress relief for him to pound your wet pussy until both of you scream from pleasure. And suddenly, your usually so gentle husband is using all his strength to push your face into the pillow and fuck you so rough that you see stars.

Yuuji brings you flowers every week to show you how happy he is that you stay at home and are his sweet housewife. He is grinning from ear to ear and kissing you tenderly when he presses the bouquet into your arms and thanks you for your hard work. Other guys might not see all the work you do at home, but Yuuji knows how much effort it takes to look after a household, and he is genuinely so grateful for everything you do.

Yuuji doesn't have much time during his workday, but he still makes sure to send you short texts or pictures from work, making you smile fondly at your phone. It's so sweet to see how he thinks of you, even during his busy work schedule.

Firefighter Yuuji makes you go "aww" when he sends you pictures of the animals he rescued from trees or burning houses. "Look at this little man who got stuck on a tree!" And on Yuuji's broad shoulders sits a fluffy cat that snuggles gratefully against your husband while Yuuji grins into the camera and makes a thumbs-up pose.

Jujutsu sorcerer Yuuji sends you pictures of interesting places he visits during his missions. He knows that you tend to get worried about him, so he uses those little messages to reassure you. A sign that he is ok and will come home to you again. And there is always an "I love you, baby." at the end of every message. Because Yuuji knows that his work is dangerous, and if something should happen to him, he wants you to know how he feels about you.

As hard as his job is, Yuuji still helps so much with the household chores! That's just the way he is. You don't have to tell him to take out the trash or to please help with the dishes. Those are things Yuuji does without needing a reminder.

And there are also a lot of occasions on which sweet Yuuji tells you that tonight he is in charge of dinner and you should just take a nice bath or watch your fave show. After all, he loves cooking and, even more importantly, he loves you, and he knows how tiring it can be to do the same household tasks every single day. He did that for several years while his grandpa was too sick to do those things. So he understands that sometimes you need a break too!

Yuuji makes you feel appreciated and loved. And even though you usually just wear your ratty sweatpants or leggings and Yuuji's hoodies with no makeup and unstyled hair, you always feel desired because Yuuji shows you and tells you how much he wants you and how pretty and sexy you are to him.

You might be cleaning the sink when your husband suddenly hugs you from behind, kisses your neck, and lets his large warm hands wander under your shirt to caress your tits and then slip one hand into your pants to play with you while his hoarse voice whispers in your ear how crazy you drive him. "My sexy cutie. The cutest housewife ever. I think you should take a break now, baby. Let me take care of you now."

And your strong and sexy husband picks you up in his muscular arms and carries you to your bed, where he shows you how much he appreciates his cute little housewife by making you cum over and over again on his thick cock while telling you how good you are for him.

All in all, being Yuuji's housewife is a very nice and relaxed job. He helps so much and is so full of praise and appreciation for your work!

Version 2: Househusband Yuuji

Househusband Yuuji is the sweetest thing to come home to after a stressful day at work! He greets you with that bright sunshine smile on his pretty face and a tight and warm hug. That happy sparkle in his honey eyes is pure serotonin to you, and the feeling of that firm, tall body full of muscles and warmth is very comforting!

A yummy dinner is waiting for you every night. Staying at home gave Yuuji a chance to excel even more at cooking. He loves to watch cooking shows and learn new recipes. And he is amazing at it! You eat better than in most restaurants!

Househusband Yuuji is your safe place. He always listens to you when you need to pour your heart out. His tight warm hugs and reassuring words always make you feel better.

And Yuuji lets you be soft. While at work, you have to be strong and act professionally, here at home, you can melt into Yuuji's strong arms and use his buff chest as your pillow while he strokes your hair and lets you vent.

His growled, "I will punch that idiot if he ever rats you out to your boss again," when you complain about your asshole coworker, makes you smile. The knowledge that Yuuji, who used to get called The Tiger of West Junior High and beat up bullies in high school, would actually do that if you wanted, is so comforting. Even though you would never ask him to do that for real because you don't want your sweet man to get in trouble.

Househusband Yuuji always prepares a lunchbox for you. And your workday gets so much better anytime you find a cute little message in it. A scribbled "I love you, cutie!" or "Don't let them get you down. You got this, baby!" or other sweet and encouraging things. And you always get the best bento with cute animal faces and everything. All your coworkers are jealous of your lunchbox and that you have such a super hot and supportive husband at home.

Yuuji is good at housework! He is used to it since he had to learn how to do all chores, cook, and manage a household when he was still a teenager. He used to live alone and look after himself, so he knows what he's doing. And Yuuji is very committed to pleasing you and giving you a comfy and clean home to relax in after work. He takes his work as a househusband very seriously!

Househusband Yuuji also looks lovingly after every pet you might get. And, of course, after your kids, if you have any. He is such a loving daddy for pets and kids! So sweet and protective and fun. You come home to loud laughter and squealing when Yuuji plays games with your toddler and/or pet. It instantly manages to brighten your day when you hear those happy sounds.

Househusband Yuuji is a very caring man who knows exactly how to take care of you after a stressful day at work. You forget all your problems when Yuuji's pretty face is buried between your spread thighs, and his sweet lips and tongue make love to your pussy until you are a sobbing and happy mess.

While your boss might not praise you for all the hard work, Yuuji never gets tired of telling you how proud he is of you! He is balls-deep in you, dicking you down so good that you scratch his muscular back with your fingernails, and all the while, his sweet sexy voice moans the sweetest praise into your ear.

"You are such a good girl, so hard working. I am so proud of you, princess. Does this feel good, baby? You deserve to cum so hard, baby." And you always do. Yuuji makes sure of that. And so you cum on his cock, on his tongue, or on his fingers, moaning his name and crying from all the love and pleasure your husband gives to you.

No matter how challenging your job is, coming home to your loving and sexy househusband and getting a nice creampie almost every night makes everything good again.

Thank you so much for reading! And also thank you so much for sending me this ask!! It made me so happy to imagine those scenarios!! I am more the housewife type, so I will pick version 1 :) I know Yuuji would be so appreciative awww. It warms my heart to think about him!

Which version do you choose? :) Please let me know how you liked these little headcanons. Comments and reblogs make me happy :)

[dweebsqueeze]

sex therapy :: 01. dr. fushiguro

chapter tags/warnings: misogynistic! naoya. strong language. infidelity/adultery. sexual frustration. degradation. humiliation. classism. manipulation undertones.

word count: 4.9k

notes: this is my one wattpad book which was removed (at nearly 1M!). they can’t stop me from sharing this book with others, so here we are. <3 this book is laced with my own relationship experiences plus my favorite movie Titanic! enjoy, and likes/reposts/comments are appreciated! xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25.

Dr. Toji Fushiguro.

That was the name of your sex therapist.

Keep reading

[dweebsqueeze]

a reward for a puppy

☽ 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝐸𝓍𝓉𝓇𝒶 ☾

| pairing: puppy!denji x mommy!reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI petplay, collar/leash, deep sub space, gentle mommy dommy vibes, jerking denji off, lots of cuteness and my attempt at aftercare cuz cuddles are my love language ok.

| wc: 3.4k

| taglist: @venusflytrapstar , @aylitgirl , @thisbicc

| a/n: bro, venus put in the WORK helping me get on track with this fic. thank you for your help, love <3

Your heart could pop out of your chest at any minute. Truly. It was hard to look at Denji and not want to absolutely pass out just by thinking about how cute and precious he was.

You weren’t exactly sure about everything that happened to Denji before you met him, but over the year or so that you had been taking care of him, you’d come to put some pieces together, like how he lost his best friends, how he was scared of women because of how he had been used before. That was the worst pill to swallow in your opinion. Someone out there had truly done a number on him. The Denji you knew now was different from the one you took in when you found him drunkenly wandering alone between bars that he was getting kicked out of because he couldn’t afford to close out his tabs. You knew that she was the reason. Whoever she was, she was responsible for Denji ending up alone on the streets for a couple of years. She was responsible for the way he tried to run away from you. She was responsible for the way he was always wary of your every move because kindness always seemed to be at a cost for him— But it wasn’t for you.

To you, taking care of Denji was the best thing in the world. He was such a quiet and gentle person who couldn’t take care of himself all too well. Yes, he managed to survive on the streets for as long as he did; and, yes, he had that Devil inside of him to keep him safe; but it was different when he trusted too easily or not at all. He was like a lost puppy. He just needed someone to guide him and make him feel safe, and to support him so that he could live life to the fullest while being genuinely happy.

Denji had the cutest obsession with your body. It took some time for him to warm up to you, of course, nothing happened overnight— But once he was comfortable around you, he started snuggling up to your side, testing the waters to see how much he could get away with. Eventually, laying next you turned into him putting his head on your lap. Him resting his head on your shoulder turned into him resting his head on your chest— He loved to hide his face there when he was scared or bored. And when he was sleeping, he started laying down between your legs instead of on your lap. He specifically liked it when he was between your knees, on his stomach, his arms wrapped around your torso, his face on your chest, your hands in his hair or massaging his back, and your lips kissing the top of his head. When you were watching TV, Denji liked to be between your legs, but with his back pressed against your stomach. Both of you felt so relaxed like that. Every time. It was wonderful to have him in your arms, the safest place for him, as he watched his favorite show or movies, and you entertained him by playing with his hair or feeding him popcorn.

He loved it when you fed him food. That was a process that took longer than anything else, which you were sure had to do with her, but you were at least grateful that Denji took that last step towards trusting you completely.

Denji was obviously such a physical person. It was only a matter of time before he wanted to do more with you, but you were always so worried about upsetting him or letting him down or making him freak out by remembering his past somehow. You were just too hesitant. He would move to kiss you, and you’d have to turn away with a quiet apology. He’d try to hump your leg while cuddling and you’d come up with an excuse to get up. Eventually, though, you ran out of apologies and shitty rationalizations as to why you couldn’t do anything with him. Both of you were adults, and he’d been living with you long enough, it was like the two of you were practically dating already— You just couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

There had been a day when you finally gave in, leaning into his kiss when he made another half-hearted attempt at it, expecting that you’d dodge like usual. And one thing led to another until you were both on your bed with you on top, riding him while he moaned your name and grabbed onto the sheets, barely clinging to his remaining sanity. You learned afterwards that was his first time. You had inklings, of course, but he didn’t outright admit it until after.

Since then, you weren’t exactly sure what to label the relationship that you had with Denji because it was this weird limbo between dating and simply being friends with benefits. Whenever he was hard or you were needy, one of you would pounce on the other. You’d been living with each other for a year. You went out to nice restaurants that required you to get all dressed up. You went to the movies. You went on walks around the park. You worried about him whenever he went out to fight Devils. He worried about you whenever he wasn’t in your arms. That met all the requirements of being a couple, didn’t it?

What really solidified it for you in your mind was when he had crawled onto your lap that afternoon, sliding between your legs so that he could rest against you while he watched TV, and after a few minutes of trying to get your attention by running his hands up and down your thighs, you gave in to what he clearly wanted, which was for someone to help out with the bothersome erection he had straining in his sleep shorts.

With a whiney plea of, “Mommy…” you knew that he was all yours. There was suddenly no doubt about it.

“Yeah, baby?” you cooed so gently in response because you didn’t want to spook him after being so shocked from what he said when all you wanted was to hear him say it again.

“Please,” he begged pathetically.

You indulged him by sliding your hands under his pants and over his hard cock. He melted into you a bit, his head turning to the side so that he could hide his face in your bicep as you started slowly teasing his tip with your thumbs to get a sense of just how needy and leaky he was. It didn’t matter how much the two of you had fucked since that first time together because Denji was always just as cute and pathetic every time.

“Is that it, puppy?” you asked in his ear.

He nodded desperately. “Yeah—” He gasped as you wrapped both hands around his length. “Mommy—”

Fuck, you could die of happiness right then and there when he said that.

“Feels— Feels— S’ good—”

After that day, it didn’t stop. Every time Denji saw you, he’d perk up with a bright smile and jump at you with a gleeful cheer of, “Mommy!” And whenever he was puddy in your arms, you’d pet his hair and whisper, “That’s a good puppy,” to send him deeper into that blissful place of sub-space that he needed so desperately in order to avoid all of the ongoing problems in his life. He liked to sit at your feet now, resting his head on your lap as you played with his hair; and you knew that he liked that spot because if he ever wanted to, he could just squeeze between your knees until you were spread wide for him, giving him the chance to make you feel good.

One day he told you that he was happy to know you. He was happy that you called him puppy. He was so glad that someone good was taking care of him. And he explained that the reason he felt that way was because of the last woman he’d ever opened up to, a woman named Makima who treated him like a dog, like a pet, and not in the wonderful way that you did, had done terrible things to him. You were kind and caring. She was scary and sadistic.

So you did your best to make sure he continued to feel appreciated and cared for. You got him whatever he wanted, fed him food whenever he wanted, and let him cuddle up against you whenever he needed. You started rewarding Denji. For little things, you’d give him headpats or kisses on the cheek, and for the bigger things, you’d give him… Well… You.

Denji put in the work in order to earn you because it seemed like he always needed you.

He came home one day, bragging about the Devil he killed, and how he made enough money off that one kill to pay your rent for the month; and for that, he deserved a big reward. So you scratched behind his ear while praising him for his good work and that you were so proud of him and so thankful that he came home safe, and you did this until he dropped to his knees with a stupid grin plastered to his face and his tongue hanging out with utter happiness. When he was waiting eagerly at your feet, you left to grab his collar and leash from your shared drawer, and Denji happily followed you. He looked so much at peace when you put the collar around his neck. He seemed to melt more and more as you kissed his head when he was wearing what showed that he belonged to you— Which was all he ever wanted. Denji wanted to belong to someone good, and you hoped that you could be that person for the rest of his life.

Poor thing was more than excited to crawl onto the couch with you, to lay between your legs after you reclined back then turned on the TV. It didn’t really occur to him that he’d earned more than that. Denji seemed to be content with the fact that he was there with you, resting against your warm body, hiding his face in your bicep, whining lightly as you tickled your fingers around the collar on his neck.

“Does that feel okay, puppy?”

Denji nodded vaguely.

“What would you like to watch?”

He whispered the name of his favorite show to you, so you played with the remote until you got the episode of the new season playing for him.

“Like that, baby?”

He nodded again before murmuring, “Perfect, Mommy.”

“Good boy.”

Denji nuzzled your arm while you kissed the top of his head. Honestly, did it have to go any further than that? Not necessarily. But Denji knew the rules, he knew the rewards that came with impressing you, and after clearly earning it, how could you deny him his gift? Especially when he looked so cute when he was all blissed-out between your legs—

“Will you do me a favor, puppy?”

Denji nodded. “Anything, Mommy.”

“Be a good boy and watch your show while Mommy makes you feel good.”

His face brightened as a list of potential possibilities began to run through his mind— What were you going to do to him? Tease him? Fuck him? Let him fuck you? Were you going to be nice or mean? Were you going to rush things or let it all brew until he was pathetically whimpering your name? The endless possibilities were running through your head, too, but your mind was made up. You tried to hold him still, because he was always squirmy whenever you played with him, by wrapping the leash around your hand a couple of times before you held on tight then dragged your free hand down his front and under the waistband of his pants. Denji told you once that he had to wear a suit for work back in the day when he did Devil hunting professionally; however, now that he was back to freelance, he got to wear whatever he wanted, including just a t-shirt and some loose fitting pants that gave him plenty of room to move around in while he was fighting— And they were fairly cheap, so he didn’t have to worry about ruining them and feeling guilty about having you buy him more.

“Mommy?” he cocked a brow up at you.

Your hand was sliding into his pants and was wasting no time in taking his semi-soft length in your gentle grip. He let out the cutest, quietest moan you’d ever heard.

“Don’t mind me, puppy.”

“Y-Yes, Mommy…”

You kissed under his ear. The way he tensed as you pumped your hand ever so slowly up and down his length in an effort to get him hard, to which he mewled and screwed his eyes shut to concentrate until you warned him to open up because you told him to watch his show while you took care of him. He tried his best. You could see it while you were peeking over his shoulder to get a good view of his face and what you were doing under his pants, his chin was quivering as he was attempting to hold back any moans from slipping out or from moving around too much before you’d decide to punish him by stopping altogether.

You leaned in to whisper, “You can make noise, puppy.”

A gentle groan left him within an instant. “Thank you, Mommy.” His head fell back onto your shoulder, but his eyes were still open so that he could watch his show— Though you knew he wasn’t really paying attention. “Feels s’good…”

“Does it?”

He nodded. “Y- Yes—” Another moan got caught in his throat as you slipped his pants down to his thighs so that his erection could pop up, giving you more room to please him. “Shit—” His hands grabbed onto your wrist to stop you after you decided to suddenly jerk him off fast and hard. “Mommy—”

“Don’t stop me, puppy.”

Denji carefully let go of you, his hands finding the length of his leash to hold onto instead. “I’m sorry.”

You kissed under his ear again. “It’s okay.”

You continued your movements of dragging your fist up and down his shaft, leading from base to tip, a squelching sound becoming more and more obvious as precum dribbled out of his tip and onto your hand. You tried to play with it to see the clear, gooey strings sticking to your fingers, but Denji wasn’t having it— Not when he was so needy.

Without any warning, Denji suddenly rolled over, his face immediately finding its way to your chest where he could stuff his cold nose between your boobs. You hesitated while letting him adjust. Another pathetic, desperate, needy, pleading whine escaped him as he did his best to hold onto your hips for balance while he was busy running his nose and lips along the outline of your bra around your breasts.

“Mommy, need’ta touch you…” He pressed his hips forward, sliding his length through the loose grip you still have around him. “Please, Mommy.”

It was hard not to grin at him even though he couldn’t see you. With his face buried in your chest, there was no way he could tell that you were on Cloud 9 just watching him fuck your hand at a fast yet gentle pace, something similar to the way he liked to fuck you whenever he was on top and just wanted to make you feel good. Denji wasn’t a selfish man. Though he enjoyed orgasming— craved it, even— he always put your pleasure before his when you’d let him. If he earned the reward of fucking you, he did so in a way that would make you cum; and he’d always hold back long enough to make sure you came first. It was so cute whenever he was thrusting inside of you and his eyes were screwed shut just so that he could concentrate on not cumming.

“Oh, my poor puppy,” you teased. He whimpered when you kissed the top of his head. “You’ve just been so pent up and needy for me, haven’t you?”

He nodded against your chest. “Yes, Mommy—”

Denji was cut off by the way you started matching his movements, fisting your hand along his hard length while he fucked it faster. Every time you were near his tip, you had to tease him. With a gentle swipe of your thumb over the sensitive tip, Denji quickly collapsed from his knees to his stomach, giving up control again so that you could jerk him off and he couldn’t do a single thing about it.

“You’ve been such a good pet for me, puppy. You know that?”

Denji’s nose rubbed against your sternum in response.

“Good boys who earn rewards get to cum. Isn’t that right?”

“F-Fu-Fuck— Yes— Yes, Mommy—”

“My sweet boy…”

“All… All yours, Mommy—” His breath was burning your skin in the best way as he panted, drool likely staining your shirt. “I’m your good boy.”

“Yes, you are.”

After looping his leash around your wrist instead of your hand, you wormed your way down to press your palm flat against his tip so that you could rub back and forth while you were still jerking him off; a dual effort to get him to cum harder. Denji was a squirming mess after that. He couldn’t contain himself, and it was hard for you to keep him somewhat still between your legs, because he was grabbing your hips for dear life while crying into your boobs for mercy.

“I’m close, Mommy— Stop it— Stop— Mommy!”

“Why would I stop, puppy? I told you that you’re allowed to cum. Don’t hold back. Cum for me whenever you’re ready.”

It barely took ‘til the end of your sentence before Denji cried out your name. White ropes of his cum shot out onto your thighs and stomach during the height of his orgasm that you forced out of him; and when it began to slow down, it turned into a spent leak that dripped down your hands.

You kissed the top of his head again as a means to close the gap between the two of you while you were whispering lovely praises to him about how he was so good for you and that he was so precious and that you were happy that he belonged to you.

When he caught his breath and was somewhat alert to his surroundings again, Denji tried to pick himself up so that he could escape you long enough to grab a towel to clean up the mess he made; However, you were still holding onto his leash tight enough that he couldn’t go far before you tugged gently to keep him with you, unable to think about anything about you, which is how it should have always been. You and him. Nothing else.

“Don’t move yet, puppy… Mommy’ll help you when you’re ready.”

Denji slumped against your body, completely giving up control one final time so that you could hug him close, enveloping him in your arms where he was safe and loved and taken care of. If it was possible, you would have liked to keep him there forever. If he wasn’t so anxious all the time, you’d want to keep him at home where you could look after him 24/7 so that you knew he was safe and out of harm’s way. When he was at work, nothing was guaranteed. Maybe if you just held onto him for dear life, refusing to let go, never allowing him out of your arms, convincing him that having his cheek squished up against your boobs was the best feeling in the world— Maybe then he’d stay with you forever.

“I’m so proud of you, Denji.”

He whined happily at the mention of his name.

“You did so well for me, baby.”

You ran your hands up and down his back to help him calm down while he caught his breath. Denji wasn’t wiggling around, which was a sign that he was close to falling asleep; and you knew the second you saw his left foot twitching at the end of the bed that he had actually successfully done so. He was all yours. He wasn’t going anywhere, not in that state when he was covered in cum and sweat, still wearing his collar and leash that you had wrapped around your wrist. Your cute little puppy. You’d take care of him for the rest of his life…

“Goodnight, puppy.”

[dweebsqueeze]

I’m going to elaborate later, but Young!Kishibe…

Caution ⚠️: Sexual Content Below!

Warnings: Oral Sex (F Receiving), Corruption Kink, & Teasing

- Minors Do Not Interact -

Young!Kishibe is more of a giver.

He loves going down on his girlie - the shyer the better. He literally does everything exaggerated just to get a reaction out of you. He wants to see you all bashful and whining about how this is embarrassing. He wants you to cry out and ask him to stop (but, we all know it’s that auto reaction of a good girl).

He will keep eye contact on you as he initiates the first few licks. Things are going to start off slow as his tongue mischievously teases the different layers of your folds. Throughout this phase, he keeps his eyes locked on you. He observes your sweet and wanting expressions like a lion stalking it’s prey. There is an erotic glimmer of danger in his bright dark eyes as he studies your reactions.

He moans into your p*ssy and leave a trail of peppered kisses against your vulva. He will hum sweet tunes and whispers sweet nothings into your folds - the vibrations intensifying the sinful experience.

When he feels your thighs starting to relax around his head, he knows it is time for the next step. His tongue gradually begins to rock deeper into your folds to explore the insides of your aching core. Like a boat sailing through rough waves, his tongue rolls deep into you in an upwards motion…swaying back and forth. He teases you mercilessly as the warm muscle enters then retreats from you, like tides of an ocean shoreline.

After you get comfortable with the slow sensual licks, he will change to more rhythmic darting motions - his tongue mimicking the penetration of his d*ck. Each thrust goes a bit deeper than the last. And, yes the clitoris is going to be sucked on and savoured. He will sport a smug smirk throughout it all, and you are going to feel the pompous expression pressed against your heat.

He is going to use his tongue to push his saliva into you. He is going to make a sloppy mess. He wants to leave you all overstimulated and left panting like a mess. He will have the sheets soaked before the main course.

“What a naughty girl? You ask me to stop but your hands keeps on pushing me in.”

“What? I am being a meanie? Babe, I am a gentleman. I always make sure the ladies are taken care of first.”

“This is just my tongue. How are you going to react when it’s going to be my fingers? My long.rough.fingers playing with your sweet little cunt?”

“God, you are doing so well. You are so wet for me, baby. Keep this up and I will introduce you to a few of my lil friends.”

“What else do you want me to stuff inside you? Are you ready for my d*ck now? Cuz baby, I don’t think I can keep up this good boy act for much longer.”

.

.

.

Want More…?

[dweebsqueeze]

Without Me?

AKA the JJK men catch you reading smut

Part 1: They want to share

Part 2: [soon]

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x f!reader, Suguru Geto x f!reader, agedup!Megumi Fushiguro x f!reader

Genre: fluff and smut oneshots

Warnings: NSFW, hints of manhandling, titty fondling (f receiving), nicknames, (honeypot, sugar drop, angel, love, darling) teasing, implied sex, swearing.

MDNI

A/N: I took so long working on this, first post jitters. I hope you like it, and I’ll be posting guidelines for requests soon!

Keep reading

[dweebsqueeze]

"open your mouth for me, baby." | with choso kamo .

❀ — content: fem reader, multiple rounds, finger sucking, praise, subspace, overstim, creampie.

due to his nature as a half-curse, choso could last a lot longer in bed than you could. three orgasms in and you were already rendered stupid; so pliant around his cock as if you were nothing more than a cockdrunk mess tangled in the sheets as the man continued to fuck you even still.

"just one more, sweetheart," he cooed, leaning over to cup your cheek. "you look so pretty for me,"

tears began to well up in your eyes as you made feeble attempts to talk, but only silly little babbles fell from your mouth. choso ran a thumb over your drool-soaked lips, smiling to himself as you made an attempt to suck the digit.

"you don't need to think, princess. i've got you. open your mouth for me, baby,"

doing exactly as he said, you let the hazy feeling consume you. choso continued his gentle thrusts into your messy cunt as soft moans filled the room. your overstimulated pussy fluttered around him; every movement was so full of love and adoration. you succumbed to your instincts and sucked on choso's thumb, mentally thanking him when he added another couple of ringed fingers into your mouth.

fuck. he loved how dumb you looked. like a poor little bunny who didn't know any better. so vulnerable, so fucking cute, and all his.

subconsciously, choso's pace sped up. he held onto your hip with a tender grip, keeping you in place. you sobbed lightly when his pelvic bone accidentally brushed against your clit, and again each time the tip of his cock grazed your abused cervix. he hushed your cries every time, feeling a little bit selfish for carrying on fucking you to this point. when you began babbling about cumming, his fingers still in your mouth, choso was dragged away from his thoughts and back to reality.

"do you want me to fill you up, darling?" he asked, only anticipating a nod in response, of which he got. "that's it, my sweet pea, are you going to cum for me again, yeah?"

choso adorable smile made you feel so warm inside. you again did your best to nod an affirmative, though the dizziness had a grip on you. he muttered broken praises and a few pet names, none of which you could fully comprehend considering the fact that his cock was hitting all of the right spots and sending you tumbling towards yet another high.

"cho-" you cried, though you were interrupted by a sob.

"shh, just let go, princess. i've got you, i'm here,"

your smaller hands wrapped around his arm, nails digging crescent-shaped marks into his skin. it felt like choso had lit a match inside of you and you were now on fire. there was a heavy pressure in your lower region, and he sweet-talked you through it. before you knew it, your warm cunt had him in a near death grip as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks.

choso took his fingers out of yourself, instead cupping your face as you shook. he had a habit of holding you close when he came, wanting nothing more than to cherish you.

the sensation of your spasming cunt drove him over the edge, with choso groaning your name and octave deeper than his usual voice as he spilled his hot cum against your womb. he absent-mindedly thrust a few more times, though considerably sloppier than those prior.

within the blink of an eye, the man collapsed on the sheets next to you and let you curl into his hold. the feeling of his skin against your own helped you slowly anchor yourself back to the land of the sane.

"mpfh," you mumbled, face mushed against choso's chest.

"what's that, sweetheart? is everything okay?" he could feel your lips contort into a smile, and it filled him with a sense of pride that you were comfortable enough to let your guard down entirely when with him.

"'m good," though full sentences were a struggle, it calmed your boyfriend to know that you were gaining full control back of your state of mind. "comfy,"

he smiled himself. "i'll clean you up in a second, baby. we can stay like this for a moment longer, how does that sound?"

[dweebsqueeze]

Stubble

A/N: Yes this is a repost because Tumblr decided to flag the original incorrectly and essentially shadowban it :( Booooo. The world deserves domestic gojo. I requested a review but it's been more than a week and I haven't received any updates whatsoever from the staff... So here we go again

Summary: You help Gojo out in the bathroom Word Count: 2.0k Story Content: Fluff, Slight Angst, Established Relationship, Mention and use of blades and razors (to shave), Tired Gojo, Gojo Satoru needs to rest, We hate the higher ups

"Shit, babe."

A grunt.

Big hands grope at your hips, your waist. It's getting hard to concentrate when there's heavy breathing against the lobe of your ear, a body squirming under your touch...

You pull away with a sigh, and watch your boyfriend jerk when you land a resounding (but light) slap on his bicep.

"Owwwww!"

Cerulean blue eyes stare at you, in both shock and faux-sadness.

"Baby, what was that for?!"

I didn't even hit him hard. You knew for a fact he's taken harder blows with a cheeky grin and a taunt to do better.

"For moving too much!" You complain, slapping his bicep once again. He acts as though he's been severely wounded. Dramatic.

"Stop moving, 'toru! I'm serious!"

"What..." he whines out. He pleads, looking more like a lost puppy and less like the esteemed sorcerer people revered. "It's scary!"

His big blue eyes reflect all the wonders, all the secrets of the universe.

Right now?

It reflected a sharp blade. It even captures the glint of the stainless steel under the cool lights of your shared apartment's bathroom. If you look even harder, you could see the reflections of yourself and your long-term boyfriend sitting in that tiny blade.

"You. The strongest." You deadpan, pointing the blade towards him. His eyes narrow at it, almost crossing as he stares down at the tip of his nose. "Afraid? Of this?"

You wave it in the air. It's almost theatrical, the way his nose scrunches up.

"You know I don't usually do this," he says in an uncharacteristic, embarrassed tone.

Despite your earlier annoyance, you can't help but soften at the silent confession. To all that was said and unsaid, Gojo Satoru's ability to be emotionally vulnerable was lacking, and often overlooked.

Why bother? You imagine that that's what the elders would say if such a preposterous notion was ever brought up to them. It's not stopping him from exorcising curses.

And just like that, your mind is wandering and your hand is gripping the blade a little too tightly for a certain someone's liking.

"Relax, baby," your Satoru whispers, taking your hand into his. He loosens your grip, thumb slipping into the tight crevice, the sliver of space between your hand and the handle of the blade.

"'m sorry,"' you apologise, for nothing. Your hand goes limp, resting on your thigh. "Just hate the higher-ups."

He snorts a little at that. It was pretty obvious, after all.

He had seen the sadness dim your eyes when he'd come home late from work. It wasn't the hours that had made you worried, or angry (not as much, at least), but more so the tiredness that he always tries — and fails — to hide from your perceptive, warm gaze.

Sometimes, he thinks that you were the one with the Six Eyes.

The situation you both find yourself in isn't a rare one. He's sitting between your legs, where you were perched upon the cold, quartz (or was it marble? You don't remember) bathroom counter. Except, you were only here due to circumstance.

Let's start from the beginning. Just a brief run-through of the events:

In your years of loving one Gojo Satoru, he had kept himself clean-shaven. But you were privy to his unshaven look. You liked it, even. You always thought it made him look more human than god. 

After moving in together, you've gotten to see more of it. Felt it a whole lot more, too. The prick of his stubble when he'd kiss you in the morning, the tickle of it when he'd brush across your cheek to annoy you...

Sometimes, and there was no shame in hiding this, you'd even watch. You'd admire him as he stood shirtless in the bathroom, shaving his stubble off with a straight razor. 

One that you were holding.

It's strangely hot.

"Why do you always use this razor blade?" You had asked before. Months ago.

"Huh?" He blinks, looking away from the mirror to look at you, perched on the countertop as you were now.

He glances down at the razor, and then looks back up at you with a goofy grin.

"I get a cleaner shave with it," he says. He spins the blade around expertly. It weaves between his fingers, almost like a dance. "Plus, doesn't it make me look cool?"

You raise a brow.

He wags his brows at you in return, looking like a half-shaven Santa Claus, what with the white, foamy shaving cream smeared all over his chin. 

"Don't act like I don't catch you staring, baby~"

You cough, embarrassed, but make no move to deny it.

"If you’d like, you could shave me," Satoru offers, holding the handle out to you.

"What if I accidentally cut your skin?"

"Nah. You won't." He snorts. "You love me too much. Besides-"

You look at him.

"-I trust you."

You don't consider it, simply hopping off the table to walk away from Satoru and the utter confidence he had of you. He might have trusted you, but you didn't trust yourself with that thing anywhere near his face.

Even if none of you said anything about his shaving adventures after that conversation, you kept that offer near and dear to your heart. 

But right now? Satoru was sent on mission after mission after mission during peak curse hunting season, coming home more tired, more haggard, with dim, faint bags under his eyes and an ongoing stubble that he didn’t have time to shave off. 

You knew your boyfriend. You knew him almost better than you knew yourself. Gojo Satoru was not one to show weakness, or tiredness. 

It didn't take much for you to usher him to bed after a nice, relaxing bath. And it took you even less to tug him into the bathroom the next day to help him tidy himself up.

That brought you here, with him and you fresh out of a warm shower, hair blown-dry and soft in the morning.

"Stand still," you demand, more softly this time around. Satoru hums, leaning in. Your freakishly tall lover still towered over you in this position, and like always, as if it were in his nature, he easily tilts his head, his jaw, down towards you.

Coated in a thick helping of shaving cream, you can't help but blurt something out.

"You really look like Santa."

"Tell me something new," he rolls his eyes. How he wasn't bored of your constant remarks of a similar nature astounded you sometimes. You don’t know how many times you’ve called him that at this point. Maybe hundreds. Probably thousands.

"Okay," you snort, slowly bringing the razor to his jawline. "You look like if Santa was a gym-bro."

Satoru chuckles at that. New-gen slang was so fun to use. He relaxes when your hand cusps the side of his face, over the hinge of his jaw with your fingers running into the tresses of his unruly hair.

You always found his hair unfairly soft.

With your hand holding him steady, the cool blade in your other touches his skin. You swipe down, and the sharp razor shaves the hair right off.

He was right, you think, cleaning the razor with the towel he had set aside. You wipe his face, too, right over where you had shaved part of his stubble. It did give him a nice shave. No cut. No red line. No razor burn.

You applaud yourself and pat yourself on the back.

Like a puppy that couldn't hold still for too long, Satoru catches you off guard in the midst of admiring part of his shave, and plants a kiss on your cheek. Foam and bubbles transfer, with some floating in the air, and you can't even get mad at the twinkling in his eyes and the playful joyousness in his act.

"Asshole," you bite, wiping the shaving cream off with the back of a palm.

"I'm paying my fee!"

"Pay it after I'm done."

"That's not how things work in this household, baby."

"Says who?"

"Says me!"

You huff, but resume your work without complaint anyway. With Satoru nestled between your thighs, his arms around your waist and holding you tight to his body, you can't complain much. People would kill to be in such an intimate position with him, much less a scene as domestic and intimate as this.

Part of your heart starts purring at the knowledge that you were the only one able to see this. To do this.

His long, white lashes flutter shut. It's almost as if he hears the nonexistent purring and decides that it's a prime song to relax to. There's a relieved sigh he lets out when you continue your gentle ministrations on him.

Swipe, cut, wipe, repeat.

Swipe, cut, wipe, repeat.

It ends almost too soon, though neither of you are surprised by it. You were good with blades, after all. Just not in a conventional, socially-acceptable, outside-of-jujutsu sense.

Satoru was your own personal curse. Just 6"3, annoying, and looked more like an angel.

The razor clatters when placed against the counter. Satoru and his fancy ways. You'd need to properly dispose of it later.

For now, though, you sit back and relax, watching your lover wash his face. He peers into the spotless mirror, the sides of his eyes crinkling with a proud smile as he, too, admires the shave.

"Like it?" You whisper, leaning in.

"Yeah," he smiles at you. Without warning, he leans in, and you feel how cold his skin is.

"Love you," Satoru murmurs, lips pressed against the corner of yours. He smells like fresh aftershave, the smell minty and lingering in the air.

Bzzt! Bzz!

He pulls away reluctantly, and yet chuckles at your starstruck expression.

Satoru gives another quick kiss before he parts to pick up his abandoned phone from the other end of the counter.

You already know what's going to happen. Subconsciously, you're rubbing circles over your not-aching chest, right over your beating heart.

"Ew."

You laugh at the poignant disgust in his voice. You weren't looking at him, but you could sure feel the face he had on right now. Scrunched nose, a deadpan gaze at his phone, and downturned lips.

"Another case?" You hum, kicking your feet, your gaze on the way they don't touch the ground. This was a new apartment. You both had moved in months ago, abruptly, on account for the closer commute and the better neighbourhood.

"Mmhm," he sounds. You hear him type in the background. Inhaling and exhaling, you mentally ready yourself for the inevitable. In the same frame, there's a mental checklist going through what was currently in the fridge right about now.

Are those muffins still edible...? You wonder. There's probably enough time to whip up something, right?

There's a vision of eggs, garlic, onion, and leftover cooked rice from the day before clear as day in your mind before you hear his phone clatters back against the marble (...quartz?).

Before you could even lift your head up to look at him, or to maybe even question him, you feel weightless.

"Oh-"

Your stomach stirs with a thousand butterflies. 

Satoru hugs you close and lifts. Gym-fanatic Santa's workout routine must be insane. How does he do it? Did he get those muscles by lifting gifts? Does he weightlift Rudolph?

A goofy, dumb grin appears on your face like magic.

"Told them to get someone else to do it," he says, bringing you out of an ocean of jokes in your head. Your braincells run around inside your skull with excitement, joke after joke being produced to handle the utter adoration you felt for this man. You tuck them away for another day, another occasion, watching as he already started to walk you both out of the door.

"What’re you doing?” You ask him.

"'M takin' the day off," he yawns. Your arms hug his neck and your legs wrap around his waist. You snuggle in closer to him, and he plants a kiss on your temple, "What do you think about Chinese takeout?"

Even after years of loving him, your heart still pounds the same way it did when you two first confessed.

A/N again: Yeah i dunno what's going on with the reviewing lol I have the urge to write in and ask since this was my first ever fic and it's really grinding my gears that it's shadowbanned I'm not removing the original (you can still find it in my masterlist/the link in the first a/n) I just want this fic to be accessible

©shiinleaf Do not plagiarise, use, translate and/or share my content outside of Tumblr in any way, shape, or form. Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated if you enjoyed!

[dweebsqueeze]

Love the Way You Lie

Ao3 | Masterlist | Taglist | Discord 18+ | Socials |

Pairing: toxic!gojo x toxic!reader

“High off of love, drunk from her hate, it's like I'm huffing paint and I love her, the more I suffer, I suffocate and right before I'm about to drown she resuscitates me, she fucking hates me.” He doesn’t want you to leave, but he’s constantly pushing you away. Nobody ever said leaving Gojo Satoru was going to be easy, especially when he decides he wants you to stay. Fic inspired by Love the Way You Lie by Eminem.

Words: 5.4k

CW: toxic relationship, fingering, overstimulation, vaginal sex, Gojo being an asshole, slight dacryphilia, breeding, rough sex, creampie

AN: This is my entry for @zorotits Ex's and Oh's collab and I had so much fun writing Gojo being a little shit.

AN2.0: this fic takes inspo from Love The Way You Lie, however there is no physical abuse! This is definitely a type of relationship I think a lot of people can relate to, so if this something that's hard for you to read or triggering, please skip!

Being new to Tokyo Tech, you decided to accept Shoko’s invitation and go out to the bars after work one day. You didn’t expect your life to change that night by meeting Gojo Satoru, who happened to show up, complaining Shoko was keeping the new girl to herself.

The two of you hit it off immediately, finding common ground in your dislike for the higher ups, and your desire to change the Jujutsu world for the better. After listening to his smooth voice and honeyed words for the better part of the evening you went back to his penthouse with him.

It didn’t take long for your legs to be entwined, lips locked in a tender embrace, an instant mutual attraction where your future seemed so bright, high off each other's love that slowly turned into a sickening love-hate.

After a few nights together he went to the higher-ups, insisted he be the one to train with you, to take you out on missions. Even in the beginning, he never wanted you far from him, until he was ready to push you away.

It’s the kind of relationship you hear about, only seen in the movies where after every heated argument you’re pushed against the wall, or on top of him, hands around his throat as he thrusts into you with reckless abandon.

You hate it, but you also can’t help but love how you get lost in each other’s touch after every fight. And you love him too much to truly walk away for good. You say you’re going to leave, but you’re never really gone.

At some point in your relationship boundaries cease to exist, and trust went out the window months ago, the way the two of you were always looking through each other’s phones, computers and even stooping so low as to read work emails.

“Where are you going?” He asks as you grab the duffle bag filled with your things, headed for the front door.

“I can’t do this anymore. I’m leaving.” You answer, cheeks stained with tears.

“No, you’re not.” He gives a wry, pissed off chuckle before another argument sets in.

More yelling, more tears and after it’s all said and done you end up making up the same way you always do, promising it’ll never happen again.

And things would be fine for a while after that - when things were good between you, they were great.

His penthouse would be filled with joy and laughter as you watch movies, holding onto one another, but inevitably you would get fed up, try leaving once again.

Both of your words are filled with venom when you fight, argue and scream, as objects are thrown across the room and broken against the wall in frustration because he’s so intense, and so are you, fiery and passionate. It’s too much together.

You know it but it’s so hard to let go because you love him so much.

He makes a mountain out of a molehill, seeing a work related text from Ijichi on your phone, shattering the screen in the palm of his hand in anger as he accuses you of seeing another man behind his back, and in response you would throw the stand his precious glasses sit on, watching it shatter as soon as it hits the ground. You stare each other down, neither relenting until your bags are packed and you’re leaving once again, falling back into the same pattern.

He says he hates routines but he sure seems to love this one.

“Baby, please, come back,” he begs quietly outside the bedroom door of your apartment when you refuse to let him in after your hundredth break up, “it wasn’t you, baby, it was me. This one’s on me. Let me in, let me say I’m sorry.”

He always comes, flowers in hand. He always brings your favorites.

And after a while of hearing his strained voice through the door, you open it and accept the gift, you always do. He always knows what to do and say to bring a smile to your face, the tears that were streaming ten minutes ago slowly forgotten as he wipes the last of them away with his thumb, promising it’ll never happen again.

He says you’ll both work on your attitudes and tempers, and learn how to communicate better with one another. You both promise to never use such violent words against one another, promise to never say things you don’t mean again.

It never happens, and you’re both at fault.

He kisses you sweetly, whispers sweet nothings and apologies in your ear until you’re writhing in pleasure underneath him, wrapped in his arms in the morning, makeup still smeared from your tears of pain and pleasure the night prior.

But you can’t keep doing this, you know you can’t. You’re too deep in this cycle of destruction and the only way to stop is for one of you to finally walk away.

So you push his arms off of you, “don’t touch me. I can’t keep doing this Satoru.”

“I thought we made up last night, what the fuck happened already?” He’s following you out of your room like a lost puppy, “you can’t leave me. I can’t lose another person I love.”

“I can’t keep going down this path with you. This is the last time. I mean it.”

“Okay.” He answers quietly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, “we’ll get it right this time. I swear.”

He says he’s sorry, it’ll never happen again, just like all the other times before, even though you know it’s all a lie.

And you always did love his lies.

It only took a few weeks this time, before your back is pressed against the wall of your apartment, tears running down your face, unable to catch your breath as you press your palms into your eyes and tug at the roots of your hair because it’s over this time.

And you really mean it.

Staring at yourself in the mirror of the upscale restaurant bathroom you’re currently standing in, you look over your makeup while adding a little extra lipstick before throwing the tube back into your clutch purse and moving the necklace you’re wearing to sit in the center of your chest again.

You sigh deeply to yourself, this is a place you and Satoru had come to several times during the course of your relationship. You know you shouldn’t be thinking about your ex while you’re out on a date with another man, but the fact that you are likely means you’re really not ready to put yourself back out there.

Shoko had come over a few weeks ago, during one of the times you were having a breakdown, ready to run back to Satoru’s arms. She brought several bottles of alcohol, reminded you of why you broke up again and that you were adamant about not going back to him this time. So, she suggested you put yourself back out there and try dating someone else for a change.

A few too many shots later and you agreed with her, downloading a dating app to your phone, the two of you giggling into the night while making the profile.

That’s how you ended up here, out with a window. A compromise, you told yourself, someone who has a foot in the Jujutsu world you don’t have to lie about your daily life to, and someone who couldn’t manage to be as much of an asshole or nearly as emotionally stunted as the man you fell in love with.

“Everything okay?” Your date asks as you make your way back to the table and take your seat across from him. He’s attractive, clean cut with raven hair, deep brown eyes where you can barely see his pupils but still incredibly beautiful. He works a desk job in accounting for some bank you’ve never heard of.

“Yeah, everything’s great,” you smile at him, “just freshening up my makeup.”

He cocks his head to the side while smiling, “you look great, er, beautiful, I mean.”

You smile back and sigh, the first date you’ve had since Satoru and it’s… fine. He’s nice enough, talks a lot about his desk job, tries to relate to you about how important his own secondary job as a window is in your world. You sit and listen, nodding along as you play with the straw of your drink, hand resting on your chin.

He does most of the talking, asks what kind of movies you like, what your favorite color is. Simple, surface level questions which were meant to get to know one another but you just couldn’t be less interested if you tried.

There’s no passion in his voice, rarely any sort of influx in his tone - just monotone, droning on and on. It’s too much to ask, you know that, to go on a single date and run into someone who could keep your interest; after all, it’s not every day you run into someone who dislikes the higher ups and has a desire to change the way the world you live in works. Hell, you doubt the man across from you even knows there are higher ups in charge.

“Yeah, I’ll have a tequila sunrise, no tequila. That shit’s nasty.”

“Sir, that would just be orange juice and grenadine.”

“Perfect. Extra grenadine.”

You still at the familiar voice coming from behind you, eyes widening as Satoru comes to stand next to you, hands in his pocket, a saccharine smile spread across his face.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You hiss incredulously, looking at him horrified and embarrassed.

Satoru looks at you from behind his dark square shades with a raised eyebrow, feathering his jaw.

You look good, all things considered, with the dress you’re wearing pinching at your waist, pushing your breasts together in the most alluring way, leaving just enough of your cleavage exposed to still be classy.

You were looking to get fucked tonight and he does not like that one bit.

Satoru let himself fall in too deep with you, in over his head and he tried to push you away over and over again but he also couldn’t bear the thought of living this lonely, sad existence without you. So a tug of war began in your relationship. He knows you’re suffocating because of him, so he tried to stay away this time, but when Shoko let it slip you were going out tonight with a window-

Well, he couldn’t stay away any longer.

He knows you can do better than that - he'd rather accept you running off with Nanami behind his back because at least he would treat you like a queen, in the ways Satoru never could. Hell, he’d even accept you defecting and running off to follow Suguru.

But a window?

That’s just a disgrace.

Satoru points behind him to a woman at a booth sucking her teeth, arms folded over her chest, one leg crossed over the other bouncing in annoyance as she glares at you from across the room, “I’m on a date too. Saw you here, thought I’d come say hi.”

“Great. I hope you treat her better than you treated me.”

Satoru opens his mouth, ready to retort, but your date cuts in. He's clearly nervous, a little sweaty now because he clearly knows who The Strongest is. He shifts in his seat slightly with wide eyes that could bulge out of his head at any moment.

“You’re G-Gojo Satoru?”

“The one and only,” Satoru replies cockily, “so you guys fuck yet or what?”

“Oh my god, Satoru, that is none of your business!”

He laughs, “okay, well I’ll take that as a no then.”

“Take it however you want and just leave us alone.” You’re seething, of course he’s out on a date and of course it just happens to be at the same place you’re at.

Rather than leaving, Satoru sits next to you, making himself at home, spreading his long legs out under the table and spreading them wide, just to take up as much space as humanly possible. He snakes his arm around your shoulder and you stiffen from the contact, unable to help the jolt that's sent between your legs after not having felt his smooth hands on your body for so long when he gently caresses your exposed shoulder with his thumb.

“Who-Why is he here?” Your date looks at you, an expression just as mortified as your own.

“He’s my-”

“Boyfriend.”

“Ex.” You clarify as Satoru rolls his eyes from behind his glasses because that’s just semantics.

Your date purses his lips, looking between the two of you before clearing his throat, “right, well, this is a lot, so I’m going to head out. It was, uh, nice meeting you.”

“Ouch, first date, huh? That sucks.” Satoru laughs loudly as your date exits the booth, grabs his coat jacket and makes his way out of the restaurant.

“Fuck you. Move so I can leave.”

“No, I don’t think I will. In fact, I’ll just have Jazmyne join us, that’ll be fun to watch.” Satoru smiles at you, ready to call his date over to your table.

“You’ve already ruined my evening, Satoru. The least you can do is move out of my way so I can go home alone,” you hiss, blood boiling at his antics. You wouldn’t put it past him to have planned this entire thing just so you couldn’t go out with someone else, “and after tonight I never want to see you again.”

He chuckles, looking at you with a sly grin, “sure, babe.”

“I put in a transfer request. I’m done, we can’t be near each other.”

Satoru stills at your comment, looking you up and down, “to where?”

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, “away from here, away from you. I was serious when I said I can’t keep doing this.”

He watches you, the way small tears prick the corner of your eyes, the way you swallow thickly and your shoulders slump slightly. You’re telling the truth, you really want to leave and be done. After a few minutes of silence, he moves, letting you out of the booth.

Satoru noticed before your date left that he didn’t bother paying, leaving the bill to you. You’re clearly too upset to have realized as well, so he sighs, pulling out his wallet and throwing too many bills on the table for the dinner you didn’t even order yet. Pursing his lips, he watches your hips sway as you make your way out of the restaurant deciding to follow suit, because there’s no way he’s just going to let you leave.

“What are you doing?” Satoru is standing beside you, on the sidewalk just outside of the restaurant, hands in his pocket.

“Taking you home?” He answers as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

“Just - go back to your date.”

“Nah, gotta make sure you get home safe.”

There’s no point in trying to argue with him, you’ve learned well enough that it will just result in more tears and pain, and you’d probably give in and take him back at the end of it. So, you make your way to your apartment with him in tow.

And despite wearing heels, the bastard doesn’t even offer to warp you there.

“You know,” he says as soon as you enter the hall of your apartment, “if I were that shitty little window, I would have had you spread out across the table-”

“No, you wouldn’t have Satoru,” you say exasperatedly, opening the door to your apartment, “you would have been too busy arguing with me over something trivial and meaningless.”

“I don’t  want to fight all the time.” He hopes you can hear the sincerity in his voice.

You scoff and roll your eyes, closing the door but his foot blocks the path before he easily pushes it open, entering your space, “right, I can totally tell. It doesn’t matter anyway, it’s over, we’re over and I’d like to move on and pretend we never happened.”

“You sure about that?” He smirks, amused.

“Satoru, I don’t care what you think, just leave.”

“Baby, you’re so cute when you lie.” He coos, voice low and smooth as he removes his glasses, crystalline eyes shining in the light of your apartment as he walks over to you.

“You went out with another man tonight, wearing a dress I bought you. You’re also wearing that shade of lipstick I always loved on you when you’d be between my legs,” he runs his thumb over your bottom lip as he watches in amusement, “wearing the necklace I got you for our anniversary. You even let me follow you back to your place without so much as a mild argument.”

You roll your eyes and click your tongue. All of those things were just a coincidence, you certainly didn’t mean to pick out several items he bought for you, and the only reason you let him follow you was because you already know there’s no way to get him to leave you alone despite how many times you tell him to.

“Satoru, I can’t keep doing this back and forth with someone who doesn’t love me, so just get out.”

“You think I don’t love you?” He laughs, “maybe if you keep this shit up I won’t.”

You stare at him, pissed but not the least bit surprised about what he just said, always turning it around. It’s the same thing all over again. He doesn’t want you to leave, but is constantly pushing you away.

“See this is what I’m talking about, every single time, Satoru! You don’t want me so we fight non-stop and then you say things will change and they never do! It’s just lies, all of it has always been lies.”

He stares at you for a long moment, before you’re speaking at the same time.

“That’s not true-”

“Just get out-”

The two of you are arguing now, such a familiar sight, speaking over one another, arguing about your relationship. You’re trying to make a point about how hot and cold he’s always been but his lips are on yours before you can finish your thought, hand on the back of your head, holding you close to him so you won't push away, you’re gripping onto his silky button up shirt with no plans of letting go.

Satoru pushes you against the wall with enough force the picture hanging in your entryway rattles on its hook while lifting you by the back of your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist. It’s an automatic response, the way your hips move on their own to rut against him, you can’t help it. 

“Gonna,” he sighs against you, “gonna make a mess on my pants if you keep doing that,” he runs his hands over your thighs, gripping into the plush of your ass, squeezing hard enough bruises begin to blossom around his fingertips.

He pulls away, moving his hands to rip the top of your dress, exposing your breasts as the soft fabric pools at your waist. He’s entranced by you, always has been, especially now, watching the way your tits rise and fall so beautifully with every heave of your chest. 

“Look at you,” he coos, hips moving in time with yours, dry humping you against the wall, “can’t go more than a few weeks without needing me.”

“Fuck you,” you’re ripping open his shirt, the small buttons flying out in every direction. Neither of you care, he’ll buy a new one, hands roaming over his sinewy torso and chest.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he dips his hand in the space between his stomach and your thighs, groaning into you as he runs his fingers through your slick folds, his cock is straining against his thigh, so hard it hurts.

Satoru chuckles at your feistiness, he always did love it, “you know,” he slips two fingers in watching with an icy stare, “I can scare away anyone you try to date with a single glance.” He angles his fingers up, running them along the spot that always makes your legs shake and quiver, using his thumb to encircle your clit causing you to clench around his fingers as he smirks at your reaction.

You’re moaning his name, pulling him in closer to you, hand gripping his soft white tresses as you do so. He loves how malleable you are to his touch, the way you melt as soon as his lips are on yours. You’d let him do anything he wanted.

There’s a knot forming quickly in the center of your core. Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand, knows all of the spots that have you crying out, whimpering and convulsing around him.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll let you cum as many times as I want.” He coos, leaning forward to whisper next to you, his hot breath on the shell of your ear causing a shiver to run down your spine.

He pumps his fingers, brushing your spot every time, he knows you're close, the way you’re mewling into him, bucking your hips as he picks up his pace, the palm of his hand slapping against your clit with every thrust.

“S’toru- I’m-” your words are cut short with a series of broken moans as he continues to pump his fingers, working you through your orgasm, the small space filled with lewd squelching noises as your walls clench and legs tremble around him.

He slows his pace, continuing to rub slow circles on your sweet spot watching the way you arch your back away from the wall, your soft breasts pressing into his hard chest.

“Satoru, wait-”

“Nah. I’m good.” His voice is stern, hardened as he continues to run his fingers along your insides, “I already told you, you’ll cum as many times as I want.”

He knows if it’s too much you’ll use the safe word you agreed on, but he knows you won't. As much as you’re trying to pretend you don’t love what he’s doing to you, he knows you do.

You let out a chain of embarrassing whimpers as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, steadily increasing his pace again until you’re shattering around him over and over and over.

Through each and every one of your orgasms Satoru’s soft lips are on yours before planting several soft kisses over your flushed face before moving down to suck and nip at several spots along your neck, chest and shoulders.

Closing your eyes, you rest your head back against the cool wall before he shoves his fingers in your mouth. You open your eyes and watch him; cheeks pink, lips parted, eyes half lidded, pupils blown with lust watching the way you swirl your tongue around, tasting your arousal as he works to undo the button and zipper of his pants.

You let out a loud gasp when you feel the blunt end of his thick cock slide through your folds, tip teasing your clit, pulling your hips away from him automatically at the sensitive feeling.

Satoru grabs your hip and pulls you forward again as he continues to tease you, sliding his cock up and down your soaked cunt.

“S-sensitive,” you whine, trying to wiggle your hips out of his grasp.

“You can handle it.” He remarks bluntly, leaning forward to suck a tender spot below your ear, “besides, you deserve this, don’t you? Trying to make me jealous, going out with another man.”

“No.” You answer firmly, breathlessly as he leans up, amusement in his eyes at your response, “we’re over. Just-just fuck me already, Jesus.”

He chuckles, letting his cock circle your clit a few times, twitching when he hears your pretty little gasps, before teasing your entrance, “I’ll let you have it when I’m -ah-” you buck up, his tip slipping past your folds. He lets out a loud groan, lips ghosting yours as you slide down the length of his cock despite his words, “ha- you bitch.”

Satoru rolls his hips a few times, both of you moaning at the feeling of having each other just one more time, because that’s all this can be, even if he’s not ready to give you up yet.

“I made you everything you are. Training you, taking you on missions,” he rambles through clenched teeth, pulling out about half way and slamming back into you, “you’re mine, aren’t you, baby?”

“Y-yes,” you answer in a broken whine, moving your hips back to meet his every thrust, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix in a way you know you’ll be sore later “all yours.”

It’s an automatic response at this point, even when you’re delirious, getting fucked within an inch of your life. He gets jealous, seeing you speak with Nanami, smiling at Ijichi and now it’s another routine, a part of your relationship you had come to expect.

“Yeah, fucking right you are, baby,” he groans, slamming his hips into yours relentlessly, watching your tits bounce in time with his thrusts as tears pick in the corner of your eyes, making his own light up as they overflow and spill down your cheek. “You wanna change the world? You know that’s only possible when you’re by my side."

He regrets pushing you away, the way he lets you leave each time your bags are packed. Despite your words, he knows, deep down, you’re not going to take him back this time, but he wants you to, even if it’s incredibly selfish of him - he doesn’t give a shit. Doesn’t want to know or think about you going out, being with someone else, being happier with someone else. Not when you could and should be with him.

“Gonna make sure everyone knows who you belong to.” His lips slam into yours, hot searing kisses on your lips, tongues gliding together sloppily until he moves to nip at your ear lobe, “gonna fill you so full, put a baby inside you - won't be able to leave then, will you?”

He laughs next to your ear, unhinged, high pitched and amused with his own thoughts, his hot breath tickles your neck, sending a jolt right to the apex of your thighs.

“You’re demented. I hate you -shit-” your hands are under his open shirt on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin hard enough to draw blood, he doesn’t try to stop you or use his infinity. He lets it happen, his own twisted form of punishment for watching you drown under him and being unable and unwilling to let you resurface.

Satoru rests his head against the wall, heavy breaths fanning your ear, his cock twitching each time you grace him with one of your pretty moans, the picture frame continuing to rattle with each thump of your body against the wall.

“I hate you too,” he kisses your jaw, licks the trail of tears streaming down your cheek, leaving a kiss below your eye before ripping the rest of the silky fabric of your dress from your waist, letting it fall to the floor, “you take my cock so fucking well, baby.”

You look down, moaning at the sight of where you’re connected, watching the way his thick cock disappears in your cunt. He runs his hand along your abdomen, where the familiar bulge from his cock sits.

“Right there keep going, harder, please.” 

Satoru watches your eyes roll back, watches the way the sheen of sweat that’s formed over your body glistens in the light of your apartment. You’re so gorgeous with the blush that’s formed on your cheeks down to your neck, with your sweet, breathy moans that are only for him.

He snakes his arm around your hips, pulling your ass out from the wall, leaving your shoulders connected, putting you in the most severe arch you’ve ever been in. His hands are cemented on your hips keeping you in place while he fucks into you with reckless abandon, throwing his head back, using your body however he wants, however he needs.

“Nobody will want you -ah- if you have a kid with me. Scare off any fucking date you have, you’ll have to stay with me then, won’t you baby?”

The sound of your arousal drips obscenely to the floor below, as he pins your hands over your head, using his infinity to keep them against the wall as he continues to fuck into you. Grabbing your legs from his waist, he pushes your knees down to your face, literally folding you in half, eyes rolling to the back of his head from the feeling of your soft, warm walls tightening around his cock.

“Shit, right there,” you gasp as his hips falter, “don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Your walls clench and shudder around him, encouraging him to speed up, to cum inside you like he knows you want him to. You’re clenching around him, hard, before you know it, body shivering like you’re seizing, vision going white as your high takes over all your senses.

Satoru lets out a string of breathy moans, brows furrowed at the feeling of your walls squeezing him for all he’s worth, hammering into you until his hips are stuttering and he’s no longer able to hold back.

“Take my cum, baby,” he hisses, thrusts sloppier than ever as he loses himself in you, “I love you so fucking much.” 

He lets out a deep guttural groan as his release floods your insides, and you could swear the force shifted the world in his favor. It always seemed to be that way, after all. He wills something to happen, so the universe makes it so.

You’re panting into one another as he continues to slowly rock his hips, fucking his cum deeper inside, making sure it sticks, because he meant everything he said.

Lifting you off the wall, he carries you back to your bedroom and gently lays you down on the bed, cock still buried inside you as he runs his nose along the length of yours, whispering sweet nothings about how he’s sorry, how he misses you and wants you to take him back. This time things will be different, he swears.

You know better than to listen, but you missed this. Missed being in his strong embrace, so you let it slide for the night, indulging one last time before it’s over, really over this time.

You stay like this until he’s hard again, going at a much slower tempo, deeper strokes than before.

Somewhere between the third and fourth rounds, he gets a call, a Curse User running amok and he’s needed to go out and take care of the situation.

“Satoru,” you say, holding the sheets over your frame trying to cover the shame of falling into bed with him again so easily, “I never want to see you again.”

He lets out a mix between a scoff and a laugh, looking you up and down before putting on his little black glasses and giving a nefarious grin.

“Sure, babe. Whatever you say.”

It’s been a little over a month since that night. After Satoru left, you got up and started cleaning your apartment of all the things he had gotten for you over the years. Just like when you told him you were never getting back together, you meant what you said about never wanting to see each other again.

You even followed up on your transfer request, but Ijichi informed you that it could take a few months to make its way to the higher-ups and to count yourself as lucky if they approve the request.

It seems Satoru heard your message loud and clear, since you haven’t heard from him over the last few weeks, taking care to avoid one another in the halls, not sparing a glance at each other during meetings you’re both required to attend.

But that’s about to change as you walk through the halls of Jujutsu Tech, eye’s red, puffy and swollen from crying the last few days.

It’s evening and hardly anyone is around as you open the door to Satoru’s office. You knew he would be here tonight, because you had threatened Ijichi into not doing his paperwork earlier in the day, so you’d be able to easily find him without having to show up at his apartment.

He looks up, a cocky grin on his face as if he already knew you’d show up with a stick in hand, two pink lines on the display.

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