madaqueue - Tumblr blog

[madaqueue]

Good Boy

pairing: ryomen sukuna x reader

themes/content: sub boyfriend sukuna, soft dom reader. language, smut. bondage, handjob, light choking, praise, pet names (baby, sweetheart), mentions of degradation. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.5k

a/n: subby sukuna that's it send tweet

“Y’know I’m only doing this for you, right?” Sukuna huffs.

“I know,” you smile from behind him.

Leaning back, you admire your work: the pink rope tied around his wrists holds his arms in place behind his back, with matching ones stationing him on his knees, feet tucked beneath his thighs. His cock stands fully erect, a drop of precum beginning to form along his slit before you’ve even truly begun.

The sight of him makes your heart flutter. “You look so pretty, ‘Kuna,” you purr, sitting up to place a kiss on his cheek.

His skin is warm under your lips, flushing a slight red. “Aw, are you blushing?” you tease gently.

“No,” he scoffs, turning his head away from you. “Just get on with it already, woman.” “Gimme a second sweetheart, I gotta get you warmed up first,” you hum as your eyes cover his form.

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips at just how innocent your boyfriend looks. It’s funny, almost, the way his muscles poke through the knots, tattoos coursing over his rough skin that’s now covered in a dainty pink. Everything about him looks so sweet, so soft, so submissive.

Normally he was the dominant one, demanding power and control in every aspect of his life, and sex was no different. Of course he treated you with care, but sometimes he showed it by fucking you harshly, ravenously, leaving proof of his love across your body in the form of scratches and bruises, a physical manifestation of his unadulterated adoration for you.

In fact, these ropes had originally been bought after a night when the skin of your neck was covered in teeth marks and hickeys from an hour of him teasing you. When you felt him nip at your chest, you couldn’t help squirming in his grasp.

“If you don’t sit still I’m gonna have to tie you down,” he muttered, moving lower to place his mouth around your hardened nipple, sucking on it between his teeth.

Unfortunately his words had the opposite effect, making you writhe even more against his thigh from where he held you in his lap.

“Oh, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he chuckled at your reaction. “Pathetic little sluts like you need to be tied up to behave.”

He bought them the next day.

But, in the mix of all the other toys and gadgets you two rotated through, they had been tossed to the back of the closet and forgotten, unused, until now.

The idea popped into your mind a few days ago while you were scrolling on your phone and a video suddenly caught your eye: in the middle of a bed was a man with his arms and legs bound as a woman moved around him. She treated him softly but firmly, her fingers trailing over his body. You felt your heart rate pick up at the sight, warmth beginning to pool in your stomach as you watched. Seeing the trust, the control, between them sparked something in you.

Unsurprisingly, Sukuna was completely opposed to the idea when you brought it up.

“I’m not some fucking piece of meat to be tied up and toyed with,” he grumbled from the couch.

“Oh, but when you wanted to do it with me it’s fine?” you questioned sarcastically.

Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, he rolled his eyes. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Please, ‘Kuna? Just once?” you begged, using the nickname you knew pulled at his heartstrings, the one that always made him give in to your desires.

After a moment of silence, he sighed. “Fine,” he conceded, “just once.”

Although he’d never admit it, the idea made his head spin, his cock beginning to strain at his pants just from hearing you say the words. After all, he’s not the type who does something just for the sake of pleasing others; when he agreed, you both implicitly knew there was a part of him that was curious, too.

As he’s perched on the bed in front of you, he finally gets to have his interest satiated.

Returning your mind to the present you settle in behind him, resting your head on his shoulder as your lips trail down his neck. The soft sensation of your breath tickles his skin, making him shiver despite the heat his body gives off.

Making your way down his arms, you trace the lines of his tattoos before following the pattern down his chest. Reaching his thighs, your thumbs draw gentle circles into his muscles.

“Are you gonna fuckin’ touch me or what?” he growls, moving his hips to try and coax you closer to his aching cock.

You hush him, lips still pressed into the space above his collarbone. “Patience, baby.”

He shuts his mouth momentarily at the nickname. Even though he would always deny it, some part of him cherishes the sweet things you call him, holding onto every ounce of praise or affirmation that leaves your lips.

The honeyed whispers, the airy complements, make his heart flutter and gaze soften. He relaxes slightly, dropping his shoulders through a displeased grunt.

Your palms travel his body, moving up his thighs before traveling to his back, trailing kisses along his spine. He shudders at the softness of your lips, the warmth of your hands, as you cover every inch of him, his skin left tingling wherever you touch.

Right now, the key to getting him into the right headspace is to be gentle, loving, the exact opposite of how Sukuna normally is.

Knowing how impatient he gets, you are languid and methodical as you trace the ropes between your fingers. When you reach the ones tied over his wrists, he shifts again, tugging against the restraints.

“Y’know I could break out of this if I wanted to.”

“I know,” you hum, “but you won’t. Because you’re gonna be good for me, right?”

He pauses - he doesn’t want to demean his own strength, but internally he battles the desire to agree with you. He needs you to know that he’s better than this, obviously, but there’s a part of him, buried deep down, that needs to make you happy.

“Good boys use their words,” you prod in his silence.

He takes in an uneven breath as he fights a losing mental battle.

“I’ll…I’ll be good,” he mutters, gaze shifting down to avoid letting you see how dizzy the words make him feel.

Smiling, you place another kiss to his cheek, the action sending sparks through his body.

Your fingertips continue covering the rest of his skin, one moving down his legs as the other runs up his stomach, following the grooves of his abs. When you reach the front of his neck your hand loosely wraps around it, applying a gentle pressure to either side of his carotid.

Before this you had never dared to choke him, and even though this could barely be classified as such, something about it drives him insane. He feels immediately lightheaded, despite knowing that you didn’t hold on for nearly long enough to physically have that effect.

No, it was something else.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” he spits, trying to cover the moan that threatens to escape his throat.

His words nearly get a rise out of you, but knowing that’s his intention, you calm your breathing before you respond.

“Watch your language, sweetheart,” you scold softly, “you wouldn’t want me to have to gag you, now would you?”

The idea makes his heart race in panic. Thinking about being gagged doesn’t worry him, he realizes - no, the dread in his stomach is there for a different reason. Is he afraid of disappointing you?

Letting out an unsteady sigh, he shakes his head no. “M’sorry,” he mumbles.

You hold back a grin at his words, your heart beginning to race in excitement. Sukuna has never, ever, said sorry for something like this before.

It was rare that he needed to apologize for things, both of you knowing and respecting each other’s limits well. However, on the few occasions when he did something like leaving hickeys in more visible places than you liked, he would just brush it off with a laugh. “You didn’t really expect me to hold back when your cunt is that good, did you?” he’d tease with a smack of your ass.

Hearing him now, you can tell something in him has switched.

“That’s my good boy,” you coo, placing another kiss to his neck.

Hearing the name, a sound shockingly close to a deep whimper leaves his lips.

Your touch is so light, your lips so soft, your words so sweet, he wants to just melt, giving everything into you. Something about being physically held in place like this makes him feel safe, dependent; despite the tight ropes against his skin the only thing he can feel is you.

His head is spinning, thoughts getting fuzzy as you trace over his body, your gentle touch igniting flames of desire beneath his skin.

As you continue drawing your fingertips along him, the teasing slowly becomes too much, his mind clouded with the need for more as you feed him soft praises. His hips buck off the bed, his cock straining against the ties as precum begins to roll down his length.

“Please just fucking touch me,” he groans, voice so low it’s nearly a whisper.

“Just one second, baby,” you purr, trying to keep him calm.

Sukuna has always been demanding, wanting things done his way exactly when he wants it. As such, you know you have to be careful, balancing his desires with your control, placating his needs with tenderness.

A smirk crosses your face as you think up a way to satisfy both.

Holding your hand out in front of his mouth, you open your palm. “Spit,” you softly command.

His eyes widen, barely even noticeably, as he processes your words. There is absolutely no fucking way he’s about to do this, and the fact that you would even consider making him is foolish. He wants to laugh at the absurdity of your request, but before he can, he’s leaning forward, body moving on its own as he parts his lips, allowing droplets of saliva to pool into your hand.

What the fuck happened to him?

Pleased at his compliance, you smile. “Good boy, Sukuna.”

Your words make him nearly shake in anticipation, his mind dazed as your hand finds its way to his cock. Using the mixture of spit and precum you stroke his length, thumb twirling his flushed tip.

Another guttural groan leaves his throat as his eyes flutter shut, leaning his head back against you. He should be embarrassed, ashamed of how absolutely pathetic he’s being, but all he can think about is how good your hand feels wrapped around him.

Grasping at any last shred of control, he weakly thrusts up into you, his movements limited by the restraints

Bringing your free hand over to his hips, you hold him in place. “Stay still for me, okay baby?” you hum.

Letting go of everything, he gives in. His motions still as you continue stroking him, his mouth hanging open as he takes in uneven breaths.

Normally when he’s fucking you his thoughts are hurried, almost frenzied, as he plans how he’s going to ravage you. He taunts you, making you beg, soaking in every sound you release as he drills into you.

But now, his mind is quiet. The only thing he can focus on is the sound of your voice, your words of praise echoing through his entire body, amplifying his desire to please you, his need to be good for you.

Continuing your motions, the wet sound of your hand sliding up and down him fills your bedroom, his cock twitching in your palm as you glide over his length. From the way his chest begins to heave with each breath you can tell he’s approaching his release, his eyes screwed tightly shut in pleasure.

“Are you close, ‘Kuna?” you ask, head still resting on his shoulder from where you sit behind him.

He nods, a soft “Mhm” vibrating in his throat.

“Remember what I said? Good boys use their words,” you remind him.

“I-I’m gonna-”

You cut him off. “Good boys also ask permission.”

His breath hitches for a moment. He never begs. Never. It was always you, asking him to let you finish one more time, or pleading with him to soften up as he overstimulates you. He loved the way you’d get all whiney for him, but it was something he viewed as inherently beneath him.

But right now, he doesn’t fucking care.

“Let me cum,” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly.

“Say please.”

Fuck, is he really about to do this? Is he seriously this fucking pathetic?

“Please,” he whispers.

You can’t stop yourself from grinning, giddy at just how eager he’s become, how malleable he is under your touch.

“Go ahead, baby,” you murmur, pressing your lips against his neck.

Picking up your pace, your grip tightens ever so slightly around his cock as you reach his tip, a shiver racking his body as your other hand moves to gently massage his balls.

“Open your eyes for me, sweetheart,” you purr into his ear, breath hot against his skin. “I want you to see what a mess you’re about to make.”

Without a second of hesitation he complies, his gaze struggling to focus on his lap as he tilts his head down. His eyes are glassy, far away, as he moves, mouth still hanging open.

You both watch in awe as thick ropes shoot from his tip, coating his thighs in the sticky whiteness.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good f’me,” you coo, droplets of cum slowly pouring down his length as you coax him through his ecstasy.

He’s silent as he finishes, no words able to form in his head, too dizzy from pleasure to think. His blown pupils can only observe as your hand slows, lazily following your movements as you pull your cum-coated fingers to his mouth.

The moment he feels you on his lips he opens them further, allowing you to slide your digits in, too dazed in bliss to argue.

“There you go, doin’ s’good,” you murmur as he sucks himself off of them, his eyes fluttering closed.

Holding him against the warmth of your bare chest, his body begins to tremble as he comes down from his high, suddenly feeling the tightness of the restraints against his skin. Leaning up you pull your fingers from his mouth, gently placing a peck on his cheek as you get to work untying him

“You did so good, ‘Kuna,” you hum as you remove the ropes from his legs and wrists, kissing the indents left behind on his skin.

As soon as he’s free he wraps his arms around you, his body hot as he pulls you into his lap. He shoves his face into the crook of your neck, holding you still for a moment.

“You better not fucking tell anyone about this,” he mutters into you.

“Of course not,” you whisper, reaching a hand up to gently stroke the back of his hair. “Now, let me take care of my good boy and get you all cleaned up, okay?” you follow, peppering his face with kisses as he holds back a lazy grin.

[madaqueue]

love languages

choso kamo: words of affirmation

a/n: once again a cute little (slightly more nsfw) drabble abt my sweet bby choso <3 i love writing these teehee this has me giggling n kicking my feet

at first choso thought he just loved your voice, the way you pulled out your vowels, the softness that curled between the letters. he held onto every word you said, enamored by each syllable that left your lips.

but one day, when he was going down on you, something changed.

you had one hand in his hair, pulling gently on the black locks, as his tongue rolled around your wet clit.

“f-fuck, right there, cho,” you moaned, the nickname alone making him hard as he thrust his face further into you. “s’good, you’re doing so good,” the words leaving your mouth as your grip on his hair tightened.

suddenly, choso paused, his breath caught in his throat. he felt dizzy - maybe it was you pulling his hair? your throbbing cunt against his tongue? or was it your words?

“you okay?” the worry in your voice pulling him out of his thoughts.

“mhm,” he hummed against the skin between your legs. “can you…can you say that again?” he asked hesitantly, his eyes slowly moving up to meet yours.

“what, baby? that you’re doing so good?” you questioned, looking down at him through half-lidded eyes.

god, everything you said you drove him crazy. he could feel his cock twitch against the bed as he was drawn back to your slick pussy, replaying what you said in his mind. “mhm, that,” he moaned, sticking his tongue out to slowly lick up your folds.

if he had looked up, he’d be able to see you grinning ear to ear at his request. it was rare that he’d ask for anything in bed, saying he was ‘just there to make you happy’. you expected his first request to be something much more lewd, yet this one was so sweet.

“cho, fuck, s’good, you’re s’pretty between my legs,” you whined through a lopsided smile. almost immediately you could feel him moan against you - clearly your words were doing something to him, too.

as his pace picked up you felt yourself getting closer, tension pooling in your stomach. “right there, your tongue feels so good, fuck” you sighed, arching your back slightly off the bed.

his hands tightened around your thighs, his mouth pressing into you harder, licking roughly over you. another low groan escapes his lips as you feel yourself get thrown over the edge of ecstasy. you babbled praises through moans of his name as your hands raked through his hair, grinding your hips against his face as you rode the bliss of your orgasm.

when the high finally lulls, you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at your boyfriend, a lazy grin plastered on his face surrounded by the slick of your cum. he places a kiss against your thigh, another soft whine leaving your throat at the feeling.

“d’you really mean that?” he asks, eyes low as he looks up at you.

“mean what?” you ask, voice still slightly uneven as you reel from the pleasure he just brought you.

“all the things you just said,” he explains.

“of course i did, cho,” you smile, loosening your fist in his hair to ruffle it slightly. “you’re amazing at this, at everything. i could write a book with all my praise for you and i’d still run out of room.”

his smile widens as he leans up over your body to plant a gentle kiss on your lips. as his cock rubs against you, he hisses slightly.

“you alright?” you pull away from him, tilting your head slightly.

he suddenly blushes, looking away from you as his body hovers over yours. “i, um, might’ve…” he trails off.

understanding flashes across your face. “cho, did you cum?” you ask, a smile forming across your lips.

still not able to meet your eyes, he nods, face red.

you place a gentle kiss to his cheek. “look at me,” you state softly. his eyes slowly meet yours, shame still evident on his face. “you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, i think it’s sweet,” you say through a smile.

he hesitantly nods before burying his face in your neck.

since then, you’ve been more proactive about telling him everything you love about him, knowing how shy and worked up he gets about it. you’ll find him during a party, standing in the corner with a drink in his hand, and start whispering into his ear how much you love his hair, how he smells, how nice he looks in that shirt, how good his cock makes you feel.

it usually doesn’t take long before he grabs your hand and pulls you out of whatever venue you’re in, looking down to hide how red his cheeks are and how hard he is as he drags you to the car. the two of you usually don’t even make it home before he’s on you in the backseat, making you moan those sweet words to him as he fucks you.

[madaqueue]

teehee sorry for the spam tn but! as promised requests are open :) i’m in a lull between exams rn so i might be a little faster and i’m sure it’ll fluctuate as the semester wraps up but my goal is to get everything out within a few days to a week (i’m hoping it gives me a break between studying lmao) !!!! check out here for logistics n stuff !

(also if you caught me remodeling my posts the past few days - no you didn’t 🥰✨🫡❤️😌)

[madaqueue]

requests

status: open

submit here

who i will write

faves: ♡ sukuna ♡ choso ♡ gojo ♡ geto ♡

others: i will write for almost anyone in jjk (except mei mei srry), i just might not be as canon-accurate. i'm also only caught up on the anime so i can't write anyone from the manga that hasn't been introduced yet

note: i age up characters even if i'm writing fluff/angst, so everything will be set in college or beyond

what i will write

genres: fluff, angst, smut

types: headcannons, drabbles

note: most requests will likely be written as drabbles, but sometimes i get carried away and it might end up being a full length oneshot

what to include in a request

characters: 1 for drabbles/oneshots, up to 4 for headcannons

reader: i generally write for f!reader but can do gn!reader upon request, i don't write for specific body characteristics

situation: general vibe for the request - i don't care if you send a sentence or a whole essay, the more details you give the closer i can get to your idea but fewer details gives me more creative freedom

general

reference my rules for more specific information on what i write

if i'm unable to write your request i'll delete it and it won't be updated in the tracker, but sometimes my computer eats my asks so feel free to send a follow up if it's been a while and you don't see it!

i'm still in classes full-time and some weeks are busier than others, so check the tracker below for my progress on your request - i try to get them out within a week of receiving it!

request tracking

[madaqueue]

playlists

broke her daughter's legs in two | "bruno is orange" x hop along

synopsis: geto finds you after the village massacre, but things went differently

pairing: suguru geto x reader

themes/content: semi-canon curse au. angst. language. loss, death, mentions of possible abuse.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: a little angst to get me out of my smut era (jk i have so much more lined up lmao) anyways once again i highly suggest listening to this song while reading :)

“suguru?” you whisper hesitantly to the man standing in your doorway. the moonlight shines through the curtains of your dorm room, illuminating him just enough to make out his figure.

he says nothing, staring blankly ahead.

“what happened?” you ask, rubbing sleep from your eyes. he slowly starts walking towards you, a pit of dread forming in your stomach as he silently approaches your bed.

you shouldn’t be afraid. you know you shouldn’t. he’s your best friend.

but you also know what happened - you had read the report earlier today.

112 villagers died.

not a single person left in the village.

concluded to be that of suguru geto’s curse manipulation.

geto set fire to the village and fled.

subject to execution.

the weight of his body at the end of your bed causes it to sag slightly as he sits next to you. the smell of ash, blood, and death hangs on his clothes.

the cicadas chirp outside your open window, filling the air between you until he takes in a shaky breath, shoulders raising ever so slightly.

“i had to,” he mouths, the words barely audible.

his eyes stare straight ahead, empty.

“had to what?” you prod, gently reaching a hand up to his back. he flinches at your touch.

“i had to save them.”

you wouldn’t understand, he thinks. nobody else will ever understand.

the things he saw in that village, the way they hurt them - the two girls. it wasn’t their fault. and yet, there they were. they put them there. in that fucking cage, like animals.

the young girls begged him, tears in their eyes. “please don’t tell.” “please don’t yell.”

he was good. he knew he was good. he had to save them.

suddenly, the old woman behind him, their captor, spat back at them, “don’t speak. you’re both going to hell.”

he did what a good person should do. he saved them.

the world is not kind to sorcerers - he knew this all too well. especially in places like these, the outskirts of society where sorcery was equated to evil and condemned, they hurt them. they blame them. they punish them. the world is a dangerous place for sorcerers.

as he sits in your bed, he starts to shake. no tears leave his eyes, but his breathing becomes ragged, shoulders heaving as he stares into the distance in front of him, eyes unfocused.

in the quiet of your room, all he hears are the crackles of the flames. he didn’t even hear the screams, the pleas, that fell from their traitorous lips. because he was doing good. he was saving them.

your voice pulls him back to reality slightly, still unable to tune out the ringing of bloodshed from his ears. “suguru,” you murmur, “whatever happened, it’s okay.”

he wants to believe you, he does. he wants to feel your hand stroking his back, but it just feels like everything is a million miles away. he’s watching himself break down in the moonlight of your room. he wants to be good.

“i killed them,” he finally utters.

the words make you flinch, even though you knew they were coming.

“i killed all of them. the entire village.”

“why?” you ask, not wanting but nevertheless needing an answer, an explanation, for what happened.

“i had to save them.”

“save who?”

“the girls.”

a sigh leaves your lips in relief. you knew it, you knew suguru wouldn’t just hurt people. he must have seen them, they must have been hurt, and the only way to help them was to burn the village down. you needed this to be true, to reassure yourself as much as him. you knew he was good.

he was your best friend, after all, and right now he needs you.

you think back to the last time you saw him before this mission, how different things were, the morning he left.

–

the two of you sit on a picnic bench, shaded by one of the trees in the courtyard outside the school. geto holds an orange in his hands, peeling it with a small knife. he was always so careful with things like this, never daring to nick the soft flesh of the fruit, a care he brought with him into every aspect of his life. he was always calculated, a quiet thoughtfulness that came second nature to him.

your eyes trace over his hands before moving up to his face, the dark circles under his eyes a physical manifestation of the exhaustion you had seen growing in him the past few weeks.

“suguru?” you get his attention.

“mhm?” he murmurs, eyes never leaving the orange as he continues working his knife around it.

you sigh, not knowing how he’ll react to the question you’ve been dreading. “are you…are you okay?”

his hands freeze for a moment, body tensing, before he returns to his movement. “mhm,” he affirms.

you want to reach across the table, grab him by the shoulders and yell that you know he’s lying, that he is so clearly and undeniably not okay, that he just needs to talk to you and you’ll do anything you can to help him.

but, of course, you don’t. instead, you tilt your head back as your gaze shifts up to the sky, bright blue through the leaves above you.

“you know,” you start, scanning the branches that shake softly in the wind, “i heard that people used to eat oranges in the morning if they weren’t feeling well, the idea of a fruit-curing fever, something in it warming and soothing. they thought it could heal sickness.”

“mmm,” suguru hums softly. without another word, he splits the orange in two, handing you half. “worth a shot,” he says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

–

remembering him, his kindness and hurt, your body language softens. “that’s okay,” you explain, more at ease now that you know he acted out of compassion. “where are they now, the girls? we can go help them, together.”

geto is silent. his eyes slowly move from the floor up to yours, a new darkness in them.

“suguru…” you start.

he just stares.

“w-what did you do?” you stammer, fear reappearing in the pit of your stomach, your hand freezing in place on his back.

“i saved them.” his voice is low, resigned. “it was too dangerous for them. they couldn’t live in this world, a world built to hate them. i needed to protect them. i needed to help them. and i did,” he pauses to take in a sharp breath between his rambling. “now, they won’t have to live in a world that would hurt them. it was too dangerous. i helped them. i did. i saved them.”

as he talks himself in circles, his grasp on everything becomes undone. he loses himself in his words, the mantra he so desperately clung to, the one he needed to say until he believed it.

he was good. he saved them.

your eyes widen as the realization sets in: the girls are dead. just like everyone else in the village. just like the reports said.

as he babbles out the same explanation, shock takes over your body. you can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t move, the only words leaving your mouth are “it’s okay,” over and over again, the sounds mixing with his in your room, chaos swirling in the night air as you both drift away from this reality.

“it’s okay” “i protected them” “it’s okay” “i helped them” “it’s okay” “i saved them” “it’s okay”

suddenly, your body jolts forward as you sit up in bed. the action surprises suguru into silence as he watches you, eyes following your every move as you walk to the small kitchen in your dorm room, taking an orange out of a bowl that sits on the counter.

you shove your thumb under the thick peel, tearing at the flesh of the fruit as you pull it apart in strips. juice leaks down between your fingers and drips onto the counter. holding the fruit in your palm, your bare feet carry you back to suguru. holding out a hand, you both sit in silence and eat the orange.

your voice is raspy and worn as you speak to him.

“you saved them.”

[madaqueue]

Me bc I’m reading practice makes perfect for the 3rd time

STOPPPP YOU GOT ME BLUSHING RN kissing u through the screen

[madaqueue]

then beg

pairing: suguru geto x f!reader

a/n: BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK srry guys idk what came over me when i was writing this (i need him so bad)

you aren’t sure how much longer you can hold out, your teeth biting down into your lower lip so hard you could nearly taste blood.

“c’mon now, sweetheart, just one little word and this’ll all be over,” your boyfriend purrs above you, his black hair cascading over his shoulders and tickling your bare skin.

you shake your head no, grasping onto any remaining pieces of resolve, collecting the shreds of your determination, to last just one more minute - that’s all you need, you try to reassure yourself.

truthfully, you never thought you’d be the one in this position - after all, it was you who originally made the bet with suguru.

you had put up with enough of his teasing, enough of being called ‘needy’ for just wanting to kiss him, and today you decided to stand up for yourself.

when he walked into your apartment, he just looked so perfect in his work clothes, his dress shirt rolled up above his elbows, his bangs falling across his forehead, how could you not want to fuck him on the spot?

“you’re so sweet when you’re all desperate like this,” he chuckles as you paw at his belt before he even has a chance to get his shoes off.

“suguru, i’m not that desperate,” you huff, stepping back and crossing your arms over your chest in defiance.

"oh yeah?" he tilts his head in amusement. "you couldn’t even wait ten minutes from when i got home, you needed me to fuck you so bad.”

“yeah. and you know what? i’ll prove it,” you state confidently. “ten minutes. i bet you i can go ten minutes without you fucking me.” 

“you’ve got yourself a deal, angel,” he smirks, slowly waltzing over to you. his hands meet your waist, his touch sending shockwaves through you as his palms kneed the soft flesh of your ass.

“d-deal,” you stammer, conviction beginning to waver as he leans over, placing wet kisses along your neck.

and now, it’s been nine minutes of geto cruelly teasing you, bringing you to the brink of your release before pulling back.

he rubs his cock over your slick folds, the pressure driving you insane as you rut your hips up off the bed, craving anything more he’s willing to give you.

but, of course, he was not going to lose so easily.

“you poor needy thing,” he coos, watching you writhe in agony below him. “i told you, all you have to do is say ‘please’ and i’ll fuck you.”

it was becoming too much, the constant taunting and temptation overwhelming you. your body felt like it was on fire, everywhere he touches igniting new flames.

before you can stop yourself, your lips move on their own.

“please,” you blurt out weakly.

“what was that, princess? couldn’t quite hear you,” he teases, holding a hand up to his ear.

“please, pleasepleasepleaseplease,” you babble desperately, “please fuck me, please suguru, please.”

with your eyes tightly shut you can’t see the way he grins, more than happy to give into your demands.

without a moment of hesitation he thrusts into you easily, a moan escaping your lips as you finally get what you had been craving. your warm walls envelop him as your eyes nearly roll back, your pussy beginning to clench around him.

“h-hah,” he whispers, “don’t tell me you’re gonna cum already, i knew you were desperate but fuck.”

his words sound fuzzy, far away; right now, all you can feel is him, the fullness, the stretch, the sweet burning pleasure of his cock inside you. after what felt like an eternity of being denied it, you get suddenly pushed over the edge of your orgasm.

“p-please,” you moan, the words aimlessly tumbling out of your mouth, “please, please.”

your vision goes white as your entire body shakes, racked with wave after wave of ecstasy. broken pleas continue to fill the room, and you’re not even sure what you’re begging for anymore, you just know that you need more.

as you come down from your high, you finally open your eyes to meet suguru’s, a glimmer of desire in his dark irises.

you feel his thumb stroke the tears off your face that you hadn’t realized were falling before he wipes the drool that had pooled at the corner of your open mouth away. he kisses you messily, his tongue easily sliding between your parted lips, his cock still buried inside you.

“you really are needy,” he breathes in awe through a smirk, “but since you asked so nicely, i’ll keep fucking you like the desperate slut you are, how’s that sound?”

blinking up at him through glazed-over eyes, you nod. “please?”

[madaqueue]

i don’t wanna write smut

but the PARASITES in me want the smut

i don’t wanna write the nastiest, toe-curling, back-arching filth

but the PARASITES, the DEMON in me-

[madaqueue]

taglist:

@drakenswifeyy @cre8inghavoc

Dripping in Gold | Chapter 10

synopsis: finding a job was never easy, and why even bother trying after you meet satoru gojo, a man with mysterious and exorbitant wealth, who wants nothing more than to spoil you with it? the only caveat to your little arrangement is that it can never, ever, become personal.

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

themes/content: non-curse modern au, sugar daddy gojo. language, fluff, angst. kissing, mention of possible abuse. 18+, MDNI

word count: 3.6k

a/n: HERE IT IS!!!! LAST CHAPTER!!!!!! PLOT!!!!!!! thank you all for the support, this has been such a fun series to write <3 xoxoxo

previous chapter | series masterlist

Both of you awake from your fatigue-induced nap a few hours later, the morning sun now bright in the sky. Adjusting in bed, the soreness of your body hits you and you groan in discomfort. The sound is enough to rouse the man next to you as he groggily rubs his eyes.

“Good morning, again,” he laughs softly, reaching down to rub your back.

As his fingertips knead into your skin you lean into his touch, wrapping a leg around his waist under the covers.

“Sore?” he asks, intuitively reading the way you melt under the gentle pressure of his palms against your tight muscles.

“Mhm,” you hum against his chest.

He places a kiss on the top of your head, warm against the heat of your body. “Let me get you cleaned up, yeah? How’s a nice hot shower sound?” he muses idly.

You nod softly in response, not wanting to leave the cocoon of sheets that covers you both but knowing you should eventually get your day started, and having Satoru with you makes the idea much more palatable.

He shifts his weight off the bed, hooking one arm under your knees and the other behind your back to pick you up and bridal carry you to the bathroom. He takes care of everything, gingerly rubbing shampoo into your scalp, attentively rinsing suds off your body, following the trail of water with his lips as he leaves kisses over every inch of you he can find.

When he’s sufficiently cleaned off the physical remnants of the sinful experiences you two shared over the past day, he grabs one of the towels hanging on the back of your door and wraps it around your shoulders.

His tenderness makes your heart swell, the way he so kindly and gently takes care of you without you even having to ask. He knows how to love you silently, how to show his calm adoration towards you in these acts.

The two of you make your way back out to your bed as you sit next to him, leaning against his bare shoulder. He shakes his head, sending droplets flying from his damp hair across the room and onto your face.

A giggle erupts from your lips, the sound bright like windchimes to his ears. “‘Toruuuu,” you whine jokingly as the cold water splashes your skin.

“Sorry,” he blushes, shaking out one more time as you scream through a laugh.

You huff, moving to sit behind him as you pull the towel from your shoulders and place it on his head. Your hands rub it against his hair, Satoru tilting his head back as his eyes flutter closed. Through the warm sun filtering in through the blinds, you silently dry his hair, smiling to yourself at the pure, innocent intimacy of the moment.

When you finish you place a kiss to his forehead, his eyelashes flickering as a grin forms across his face.

Suddenly, a pit forms in your stomach. You’ve been ignoring it, dreading it, running from it for the past day, not wanting to ruin the joy you’ve felt with Satoru. But now it’s here: you have to talk to him.

A sigh leaves your lips, sadness forming across your features. Your eyebrows furrow as your thoughts threaten to spiral.

You can’t lose him again, you can’t. Maybe you shouldn’t talk to him. Maybe you should lie, say you didn’t have feelings for him; but how could you hide it? Things were bad when he was gone, like a dark cloud shadowing everything in your life until he came back, and now you’re supposed to just throw that sunshine away?

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, sensing the shift in your demeanor.

Desperately blinking away the tears that started forming in your eyes as you were lost in thought, you shake your head.

Satoru wraps his arms around you, pulling you next to him. “Hey, it’s okay, talk to me, pretty girl,” he hums.

“I…I can’t,” your voice waivers.

He places a kiss to your cheek, your skin hot in frustration and fear. “Can’t what?” he asks innocently, trying to piece together what could have you so distressed.

This morning had been perfect, he cherished every second he had spent with you back in his life. Had he somehow unknowingly done something wrong, something that hurt you? The idea pained him to think about, tightening his grasp around you as he tried to push it away.

“I can’t lose you again,” you whisper weakly.

“Sweetheart, you won’t-” he starts.

You cut him off before he can continue, knowing that if you don’t say it now you may never get your chance.

“Satoru, I still have feelings for you. You were all I could think about when we were apart, every morning felt heavier, every action more painful, I couldn’t do anything without you.” Tears start spilling over your lashes as you force your way through the words. “I want you back in my life, but…shit…I want it to be you. I want us to be together, and if you can’t do that, then I don’t think I can see you anymore.”

Pausing, you look up at him through glossy eyes, the sight of you making his heart nearly shatter all over again.

Fuck, how could he explain this to you? How could he tell you everything? More importantly, would you still want him if you knew?

His gaze shifts down to his hands in his lap, his knuckles had begun turning white as he clenched them together in stress.

The words he knows he needs to say echo in his mind as he struggles to will himself into saying them. Taking in an uneven breath, he starts, “I’m sorry, but you know that’s not how this works-”

“Bullshit,” you cut him off abruptly, the harshness of your tone making him flinch. “I know that’s what you said last time, but there’s no way you believe that.”

It can’t be true, right? He acts like he loves you, the way he takes care of you, the way he holds you, the way he glows when you’re around him, the way everything in him softens in your presence - that has to be love, right?

He sighs, shoving his hands together to hide the way they’re shaking.

Reaching over towards him, you place a hand on his cheek, tilting his head towards you. His eyes are low, unable to meet yours as they begin to cloud with sorrow.

“Please,” your voice waivers, “just tell me what’s going on. Tell me you love me, or that you don’t, I don’t care, I just need to know. Please, Satoru,” you plead, “please.”

His thoughts are fuzzy, conflicted with his responsibilities and his feelings. He knows you deserve clarity, answers, but is it worth the risk of losing everything? Losing you?

“Okay,” he whispers, unable to raise his voice any further. His gaze finally lifts to yours, his lashes blinking slowly over his glassy irises.

Nervousness builds in his chest as he struggles to find the words to begin.

“Um…I guess I should tell you about my family,” he begins.

–

Ever since Satoru Gojo was born he knew he was special.

His parents used to tell him he would inherit the world, that he can and will have everything he desires. He wanted a new toy? It was bought and delivered that night. A nanny upset him? She was gone the next day. He was hungry? A buffet was prepared with his favorites. Every person who worked at his estate learned to recognize the sounds of his shrill cries, any minor distress a sign that something must be done to please him.

Throughout his childhood all he did was learn, training for the day he would be allowed to take over the family business. Every day was spent with knowledge, his teachers allowing his self-directed nature to lead them through his studies. If he was curious about plants they would stroll through the gardens, showing him which ones were edible and which could be poisonous; if he saw a word he didn’t recognize they would read old texts, working through languages with ease; if he stayed up late enough he would inquire about the stars, learning the development of the universe and the physics of planetary motion.

By the time he was twelve, he fluently spoke ten languages, could easily solve graduate-level mathematics problems, and understood the human psyche in a way that afforded him incredible control of his, and other’s, emotions.

Yet, the one thing he couldn’t seem to shake was his empathy.

Growing up he was never allowed friends, always deemed a needless distraction by his parents. They needed him to be cruel, to take and take and take in order to get what was rightfully his; after all, that was how they had managed to get to where they were. Caring too much about what others thought or felt was an invitation for disaster, one that simply could not be permitted. Besides, there was no reason for Satoru to be near anyone who was so, undeniably, less than him.

But unfortunately, Satoru was kind. One day, his parents observed him kneeling in the garden as he picked flowers for one of his many nannies, the thorns poking at his skin until small trails of blood ran down his fingers. He presented the bouquet to her with a smile on his face, knowing he had chosen her favorite colors.

The next morning he was called into their office, a room he was rarely allowed into. The high ceilings made the space feel cold, despite the fireplace crackling in the corner.

They told him he was foolish, stupid, for what he did: someone of his stature should never dare bend before anyone, nor present them with such an indecent show of affection. She had already been fired for her indiscretion, and they assured him that he would be punished more severely for the next infraction.

He wiped away the tears spilling down his cheeks, dirt still fresh under his fingernails, as he realized what he had done, that it was his fault.  He swore to be better, he promised it to them. However, no matter what they did, his parents could not seem to train him out of this awful habit of caring for people. So, they simply continued firing anyone he seemed to grow close to.

As time went on he grew increasingly forlorn, spending hours wandering through the massive estate alone. His sadness eventually began affecting his studies, so his parents reached a compromise: he could have one peer.

Suguru Geto was introduced to him the next day, the boy from a nearby school who similarly showed intellectual promise, and the pair immediately became close. Satoru had never had someone to be around like this, someone his age with his interests, and he cherished the new relationship they formed. Eventually, he learned to call the boy his friend.

Although Satoru spent most of his time continuing his education, every free moment he had he would spend with Suguru. They grew up together, sharing in the experience of boyhood, one Satoru had long since forgotten.

When he turned 18, his parents informed him that he needed to gain further experience before he would be allowed to inherit the company; after all, he had spent his entire life at the estate, and while he had learned immeasurable knowledge from the library full of texts, he had not yet had the opportunity to see how the world truly functioned.

So, Satoru and Suguru moved out, into their apartment together. Of course it was no problem as his family owned the building, and nearly every building in the city, in addition to the power companies, the car companies, the manufacturing plants, and effectively every other corporation in the area.

While nothing explicitly had their name on it, the Gojo family owned the majority of capital across the country, and they truthfully preferred it that way as it allowed them to work in secrecy. Other, more selfish groups tried to overtake them, but their pride always cut their time short in their desperation to be known, to be recognized. The Gojo family instead valued privacy, security, and trust.

It was for this reason that Satoru was never allowed to marry.

Not only because his family wouldn’t dare to fragment their wealth, but also because no single person could ever be deserving of the being that is Satoru Gojo.

In being born special, he was forced to sacrifice normalcy.

–

These thoughts, these ideals, were ones he had to accept from an early age. Every ounce of affection he felt for anyone was a weakness, a flaw, something that he should rid himself of. As a result, he lived a lonely life, despite the material pleasures he was afforded. The only person who could ever understand him was Suguru, yet even he struggled to connect with Satoru in the way he craved.

So, he chose to fill his life with pleasure anywhere else he could find, the most direct route often leading to sex. He could easily separate his emotions from the actions, never daring to let the cracks of his heart show. He walled up his feelings with rules, assuring himself that so long as he followed his self-imposed commandments he would be okay.

Yet, when he met you, it’s like the foundation started to crumble.

He swore he only spent time with women to fuck them, yet you two didn’t even hook up after your first dinner; he swore that there would be no second dates, yet your car broke down, so of course he had to help you; he swore he wouldn’t get attached, yet he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about you every moment you were apart.

He swore to never let things get personal, yet here he is, in your bed, telling you everything.

–

“Satoru?” Your soft voice tethers him back to reality.

His skin feels hot as you wipe away the tears he didn’t even notice were spilling down his cheeks.

“Mhm?” he croaks, his voice hoarse after talking non-stop for what felt like hours as he recounted his life, his struggles, his feelings, to you.

Placing a gentle kiss to his temple, you continue stroking his hair out of his eyes from where it had fallen as he spoke to you. His gaze is still downturned towards his lap, the only place he had been looking as he couldn’t bring himself to face you as he bared his soul.

You reach a hand out to his, holding his shaking palms as your fingers intertwine. “Thank you,” you whisper, “thank you for telling me.”

He nods weakly, trying to stop himself from spiraling: you hate him, you think he’s evil, awful, untrustworthy, unlovable, you never want to see him again, fuck, should he just leave now and save you the trouble of saying it? He ruined it, he ruined everything-

“I love you,” you quietly blurt out.

For a moment, everything in his mind goes quiet.

You…love him?

His eyes flit to your face, meeting your gaze for the first time since he started sharing the story of his life. His lips are parted slightly as he takes in uneven breaths, his cheeks still damp with tears. The sight almost breaks your heart, how fragile he looks, how afraid. You want to throw your arms over his shoulders and hold him but you’re worried the action might cause him to shatter before your eyes.

“Really?” is all he can bring himself to mutter.

“Yes, Satoru,” you hum, the way you say his name so sweetly making his heart race. “I love you.”

And then, his lips are on yours. One of his hands goes to the side of your face, holding you as if to prevent you from slipping away as he kisses you tenderly. You feel the cool wetness of his cheeks against your skin, his lips warm as he leans into you.

“I love you too,” he whispers into your mouth, not daring to separate for even a moment.

He loves you. You love him. For right now, that’s all you need.

–

As your relationship continues to blossom over the next few months, you and Satoru become more and more comfortable with the situation. Of course there are a few growing pains - he stops paying you, obviously, but he still manages to treat you every time you go out. You’ve come to terms with the fact that his family will never know about you, but you’re not sure you’d want to meet them anyways given how they treated Satoru, the emotional turmoil they caused him.

Eventually the two of you move in together, in the same building as his old apartment he shared with Suguru so he doesn’t have to be too far from his best friend, and of course he gets the penthouse unit. As you carry in the boxes of your belongings, you can’t help but realize just how little you own compared to him, but you don’t mind, especially because Satoru spends the next few weeks taking you to new stores everyday, letting you pick out any furniture or decorations that make the space feel like yours. In the back of his mind, he remembers the house where he spent his childhood, one that always made him feel like a guest, and he never wants that for you.

For the first time in your life, things are easy.

Since Satoru’s family owns the building, you don’t have to worry about paying rent (an irony that is not lost on either of you given how you met in the first place). He’s also able to use his money on anything his family deems ‘necessary for his survival,’ and to him the only thing he needs to survive is you, so of course your every wish is taken care of - nice meals, travel, clothes, anything he could think of to spoil you with.

Finally, he feels like he’s using his past, his family, his wealth, for good. Every time he sees you smile he feels like he’s doing good.

But deep down, in the corners of his mind, he knows he can’t continue like this forever, the knowledge of his family one he can’t suppress. Eventually they’ll find out, they’ll cut him off, or worse, they’ll make him cut you off. He can’t go back, he can’t work for them after he’s seen the life he could have with you; so, he starts planning.

On the one year anniversary of the day you officially started dating, the day he confessed everything to you, the day you still decided you love him in spite of his past, he decides it’s time to tell you.

Satoru finds you in your shared bedroom, leaping onto the mattress next to you and wrapping his arms around your body.

“‘Toru,” you giggle, the nickname never failing to make him blush.

“I have a surprise for you, sweetheart,” he smiles, peppering your face with kisses.

When he’s covered every inch of your skin in soft pecks, he rolls off the bed and grabs something from the back of the closet.

“Close your eyes,” he instructs, his back turned towards you. Covering your eyes with your palms, you patiently wait as he rummages through your shared belongings.

“Aaaaaand open!” he proclaims.

Standing at the edge of the bed, he holds out a piece of paper, a toothy smile plastered across his face.

“It’s…” you trail off, leaning forward and squinting at the small print, “an email?”

Confusion is evident on your face as Satoru waltzes toward the bed, grin never faltering. “It is,” he confirms. “Read it.”

Holding the paper out to you, your eyes quickly scan over the words.

‘New Hire: Satoru Gojo’

‘Welcome to the school!’

‘high school teacher’

‘starting next Monday’

“Satoru…are you…are you going to be a teacher?” you ask quizzically.

“Mhm,” he hums excitedly, now kneeling next to you on the bed.

“I’m happy for you babe, but why?”

“Because…” he trails off, “if I have a job, then…then we don’t need my parent’s money.”

The realization sets in as your eyes meet his.

You open your mouth to speak, but before you can, he continues. 

"You’re my everything, and every day I’ve gotten to spend with you has been better than the last. I want to keep loving you, keep being with you, everyday for the rest of our lives. You and I both know that’s not possible with the threat of my family looming over us, so I…I did this.”

His eyes scan your face, desperate to see your response, his heart beating so fast it threatens to burst out of his chest.

Without you even realizing it, he had wiped the skies clean of the cloud that had been shrouding you for the past year. The threat of his family was like an invisible weight on you, always there, wherever you went. A part of you knew he had to go back, had to return to the evil that tried to ruin him, to make him just like them. But now, he doesn’t - he doesn’t owe them anything, he doesn’t have to be anything or do anything - he just has to be yours.

When you smile up at him, he swears he feels the warmth of the sun.

“I love you,” you murmur, reaching your arms up around his neck before pulling him into a kiss.

“I love you too,” he whispers, “forever.”

previous chapter | series masterlist

[madaqueue]

Dripping in Gold | Chapter 10

synopsis: finding a job was never easy, and why even bother trying after you meet satoru gojo, a man with mysterious and exorbitant wealth, who wants nothing more than to spoil you with it? the only caveat to your little arrangement is that it can never, ever, become personal.

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

themes/content: non-curse modern au, sugar daddy gojo. language, fluff, angst. kissing, mention of possible abuse. 18+, MDNI

word count: 3.6k

a/n: HERE IT IS!!!! LAST CHAPTER!!!!!! PLOT!!!!!!! thank you all for the support, this has been such a fun series to write <3 xoxoxo

previous chapter | series masterlist

Both of you awake from your fatigue-induced nap a few hours later, the morning sun now bright in the sky. Adjusting in bed, the soreness of your body hits you and you groan in discomfort. The sound is enough to rouse the man next to you as he groggily rubs his eyes.

“Good morning, again,” he laughs softly, reaching down to rub your back.

As his fingertips knead into your skin you lean into his touch, wrapping a leg around his waist under the covers.

“Sore?” he asks, intuitively reading the way you melt under the gentle pressure of his palms against your tight muscles.

“Mhm,” you hum against his chest.

He places a kiss on the top of your head, warm against the heat of your body. “Let me get you cleaned up, yeah? How’s a nice hot shower sound?” he muses idly.

You nod softly in response, not wanting to leave the cocoon of sheets that covers you both but knowing you should eventually get your day started, and having Satoru with you makes the idea much more palatable.

He shifts his weight off the bed, hooking one arm under your knees and the other behind your back to pick you up and bridal carry you to the bathroom. He takes care of everything, gingerly rubbing shampoo into your scalp, attentively rinsing suds off your body, following the trail of water with his lips as he leaves kisses over every inch of you he can find.

When he’s sufficiently cleaned off the physical remnants of the sinful experiences you two shared over the past day, he grabs one of the towels hanging on the back of your door and wraps it around your shoulders.

His tenderness makes your heart swell, the way he so kindly and gently takes care of you without you even having to ask. He knows how to love you silently, how to show his calm adoration towards you in these acts.

The two of you make your way back out to your bed as you sit next to him, leaning against his bare shoulder. He shakes his head, sending droplets flying from his damp hair across the room and onto your face.

A giggle erupts from your lips, the sound bright like windchimes to his ears. “‘Toruuuu,” you whine jokingly as the cold water splashes your skin.

“Sorry,” he blushes, shaking out one more time as you scream through a laugh.

You huff, moving to sit behind him as you pull the towel from your shoulders and place it on his head. Your hands rub it against his hair, Satoru tilting his head back as his eyes flutter closed. Through the warm sun filtering in through the blinds, you silently dry his hair, smiling to yourself at the pure, innocent intimacy of the moment.

When you finish you place a kiss to his forehead, his eyelashes flickering as a grin forms across his face.

Suddenly, a pit forms in your stomach. You’ve been ignoring it, dreading it, running from it for the past day, not wanting to ruin the joy you’ve felt with Satoru. But now it’s here: you have to talk to him.

A sigh leaves your lips, sadness forming across your features. Your eyebrows furrow as your thoughts threaten to spiral.

You can’t lose him again, you can’t. Maybe you shouldn’t talk to him. Maybe you should lie, say you didn’t have feelings for him; but how could you hide it? Things were bad when he was gone, like a dark cloud shadowing everything in your life until he came back, and now you’re supposed to just throw that sunshine away?

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, sensing the shift in your demeanor.

Desperately blinking away the tears that started forming in your eyes as you were lost in thought, you shake your head.

Satoru wraps his arms around you, pulling you next to him. “Hey, it’s okay, talk to me, pretty girl,” he hums.

“I…I can’t,” your voice waivers.

He places a kiss to your cheek, your skin hot in frustration and fear. “Can’t what?” he asks innocently, trying to piece together what could have you so distressed.

This morning had been perfect, he cherished every second he had spent with you back in his life. Had he somehow unknowingly done something wrong, something that hurt you? The idea pained him to think about, tightening his grasp around you as he tried to push it away.

“I can’t lose you again,” you whisper weakly.

“Sweetheart, you won’t-” he starts.

You cut him off before he can continue, knowing that if you don’t say it now you may never get your chance.

“Satoru, I still have feelings for you. You were all I could think about when we were apart, every morning felt heavier, every action more painful, I couldn’t do anything without you.” Tears start spilling over your lashes as you force your way through the words. “I want you back in my life, but…shit…I want it to be you. I want us to be together, and if you can’t do that, then I don’t think I can see you anymore.”

Pausing, you look up at him through glossy eyes, the sight of you making his heart nearly shatter all over again.

Fuck, how could he explain this to you? How could he tell you everything? More importantly, would you still want him if you knew?

His gaze shifts down to his hands in his lap, his knuckles had begun turning white as he clenched them together in stress.

The words he knows he needs to say echo in his mind as he struggles to will himself into saying them. Taking in an uneven breath, he starts, “I’m sorry, but you know that’s not how this works-”

“Bullshit,” you cut him off abruptly, the harshness of your tone making him flinch. “I know that’s what you said last time, but there’s no way you believe that.”

It can’t be true, right? He acts like he loves you, the way he takes care of you, the way he holds you, the way he glows when you’re around him, the way everything in him softens in your presence - that has to be love, right?

He sighs, shoving his hands together to hide the way they’re shaking.

Reaching over towards him, you place a hand on his cheek, tilting his head towards you. His eyes are low, unable to meet yours as they begin to cloud with sorrow.

“Please,” your voice waivers, “just tell me what’s going on. Tell me you love me, or that you don’t, I don’t care, I just need to know. Please, Satoru,” you plead, “please.”

His thoughts are fuzzy, conflicted with his responsibilities and his feelings. He knows you deserve clarity, answers, but is it worth the risk of losing everything? Losing you?

“Okay,” he whispers, unable to raise his voice any further. His gaze finally lifts to yours, his lashes blinking slowly over his glassy irises.

Nervousness builds in his chest as he struggles to find the words to begin.

“Um…I guess I should tell you about my family,” he begins.

–

Ever since Satoru Gojo was born he knew he was special.

His parents used to tell him he would inherit the world, that he can and will have everything he desires. He wanted a new toy? It was bought and delivered that night. A nanny upset him? She was gone the next day. He was hungry? A buffet was prepared with his favorites. Every person who worked at his estate learned to recognize the sounds of his shrill cries, any minor distress a sign that something must be done to please him.

Throughout his childhood all he did was learn, training for the day he would be allowed to take over the family business. Every day was spent with knowledge, his teachers allowing his self-directed nature to lead them through his studies. If he was curious about plants they would stroll through the gardens, showing him which ones were edible and which could be poisonous; if he saw a word he didn’t recognize they would read old texts, working through languages with ease; if he stayed up late enough he would inquire about the stars, learning the development of the universe and the physics of planetary motion.

By the time he was twelve, he fluently spoke ten languages, could easily solve graduate-level mathematics problems, and understood the human psyche in a way that afforded him incredible control of his, and other’s, emotions.

Yet, the one thing he couldn’t seem to shake was his empathy.

Growing up he was never allowed friends, always deemed a needless distraction by his parents. They needed him to be cruel, to take and take and take in order to get what was rightfully his; after all, that was how they had managed to get to where they were. Caring too much about what others thought or felt was an invitation for disaster, one that simply could not be permitted. Besides, there was no reason for Satoru to be near anyone who was so, undeniably, less than him.

But unfortunately, Satoru was kind.

One day, his parents observed him kneeling in the garden as he picked flowers for one of his many nannies, the thorns poking at his skin until small trails of blood ran down his fingers. He presented the bouquet to her with a smile on his face, knowing he had chosen her favorite colors.

The next morning he was called into their office, a room he was rarely allowed into. The high ceilings made the space feel cold, despite the fireplace crackling in the corner.

They told him he was foolish, stupid, for what he did: someone of his stature should never dare bend before anyone, nor present them with such an indecent show of affection. She had already been fired for her indiscretion, and they assured him that he would be punished more severely for the next infraction.

He wiped away the tears spilling down his cheeks, dirt still fresh under his fingernails, as he realized what he had done, that it was his fault.  He swore to be better, he promised it to them. However, no matter what they did, his parents could not seem to train him out of this awful habit of caring for people. So, they simply continued firing anyone he seemed to grow close to.

As time went on he grew increasingly forlorn, spending hours wandering through the massive estate alone. His sadness eventually began affecting his studies, so his parents reached a compromise: he could have one peer.

Suguru Geto was introduced to him the next day, the boy from a nearby school who similarly showed intellectual promise, and the pair immediately became close. Satoru had never had someone to be around like this, someone his age with his interests, and he cherished the new relationship they formed. Eventually, he learned to call the boy his friend.

Although Satoru spent most of his time continuing his education, every free moment he had he would spend with Suguru. They grew up together, sharing in the experience of boyhood, one Satoru had long since forgotten.

When he turned 18, his parents informed him that he needed to gain further experience before he would be allowed to inherit the company; after all, he had spent his entire life at the estate, and while he had learned immeasurable knowledge from the library full of texts, he had not yet had the opportunity to see how the world truly functioned.

So, Satoru and Suguru moved out, into their apartment together. Of course it was no problem as his family owned the building, and nearly every building in the city, in addition to the power companies, the car companies, the manufacturing plants, and effectively every other corporation in the area.

While nothing explicitly had their name on it, the Gojo family owned the majority of capital across the country, and they truthfully preferred it that way as it allowed them to work in secrecy. Other, more selfish groups tried to overtake them, but their pride always cut their time short in their desperation to be known, to be recognized. The Gojo family instead valued privacy, security, and trust.

It was for this reason that Satoru was never allowed to marry.

Not only because his family wouldn’t dare to fragment their wealth, but also because no single person could ever be deserving of the being that is Satoru Gojo.

In being born special, he was forced to sacrifice normalcy.

–

These thoughts, these ideals, were ones he had to accept from an early age. Every ounce of affection he felt for anyone was a weakness, a flaw, something that he should rid himself of. As a result, he lived a lonely life, despite the material pleasures he was afforded. The only person who could ever understand him was Suguru, yet even he struggled to connect with Satoru in the way he craved.

So, he chose to fill his life with pleasure anywhere else he could find, the most direct route often leading to sex. He could easily separate his emotions from the actions, never daring to let the cracks of his heart show. He walled up his feelings with rules, assuring himself that so long as he followed his self-imposed commandments he would be okay.

Yet, when he met you, it’s like the foundation started to crumble.

He swore he only spent time with women to fuck them, yet you two didn’t even hook up after your first dinner; he swore that there would be no second dates, yet your car broke down, so of course he had to help you; he swore he wouldn’t get attached, yet he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about you every moment you were apart.

He swore to never let things get personal, yet here he is, in your bed, telling you everything.

–

“Satoru?” Your soft voice tethers him back to reality.

His skin feels hot as you wipe away the tears he didn’t even notice were spilling down his cheeks.

“Mhm?” he croaks, his voice hoarse after talking non-stop for what felt like hours as he recounted his life, his struggles, his feelings, to you.

Placing a gentle kiss to his temple, you continue stroking his hair out of his eyes from where it had fallen as he spoke to you. His gaze is still downturned towards his lap, the only place he had been looking as he couldn’t bring himself to face you as he bared his soul.

You reach a hand out to his, holding his shaking palms as your fingers intertwine. “Thank you,” you whisper, “thank you for telling me.”

He nods weakly, trying to stop himself from spiraling: you hate him, you think he’s evil, awful, untrustworthy, unlovable, you never want to see him again, fuck, should he just leave now and save you the trouble of saying it? He ruined it, he ruined everything-

“I love you,” you quietly blurt out.

For a moment, everything in his mind goes quiet.

You…love him?

His eyes flit to your face, meeting your gaze for the first time since he started sharing the story of his life. His lips are parted slightly as he takes in uneven breaths, his cheeks still damp with tears. The sight almost breaks your heart, how fragile he looks, how afraid. You want to throw your arms over his shoulders and hold him but you’re worried the action might cause him to shatter before your eyes.

“Really?” is all he can bring himself to mutter.

“Yes, Satoru,” you hum, the way you say his name so sweetly making his heart race. “I love you.”

And then, his lips are on yours. One of his hands goes to the side of your face, holding you as if to prevent you from slipping away as he kisses you tenderly. You feel the cool wetness of his cheeks against your skin, his lips warm as he leans into you.

“I love you too,” he whispers into your mouth, not daring to separate for even a moment.

He loves you. You love him. For right now, that’s all you need.

–

As your relationship continues to blossom over the next few months, you and Satoru become more and more comfortable with the situation. Of course there are a few growing pains - he stops paying you, obviously, but he still manages to treat you every time you go out. You’ve come to terms with the fact that his family will never know about you, but you’re not sure you’d want to meet them anyways given how they treated Satoru, the emotional turmoil they caused him.

Eventually the two of you move in together, in the same building as his old apartment he shared with Suguru so he doesn’t have to be too far from his best friend, and of course he gets the penthouse unit. As you carry in the boxes of your belongings, you can’t help but realize just how little you own compared to him, but you don’t mind, especially because Satoru spends the next few weeks taking you to new stores everyday, letting you pick out any furniture or decorations that make the space feel like yours. In the back of his mind, he remembers the house where he spent his childhood, one that always made him feel like a guest, and he never wants that for you.

For the first time in your life, things are easy.

Since Satoru’s family owns the building, you don’t have to worry about paying rent (an irony that is not lost on either of you given how you met in the first place). He’s also able to use his money on anything his family deems ‘necessary for his survival,’ and to him the only thing he needs to survive is you, so of course your every wish is taken care of - nice meals, travel, clothes, anything he could think of to spoil you with.

Finally, he feels like he’s using his past, his family, his wealth, for good. Every time he sees you smile he feels like he’s doing good.

But deep down, in the corners of his mind, he knows he can’t continue like this forever, the knowledge of his family one he can’t suppress. Eventually they’ll find out, they’ll cut him off, or worse, they’ll make him cut you off. He can’t go back, he can’t work for them after he’s seen the life he could have with you; so, he starts planning.

On the one year anniversary of the day you officially started dating, the day he confessed everything to you, the day you decided you still love him in spite of his past, he decides it’s time to tell you.

Satoru finds you in your shared bedroom, leaping onto the mattress next to you and wrapping his arms around your body.

“‘Toru,” you giggle, the nickname never failing to make him blush.

“I have a surprise for you, sweetheart,” he smiles, peppering your face with kisses.

When he’s covered every inch of your skin in soft pecks, he rolls off the bed and grabs something from the back of the closet.

“Close your eyes,” he instructs, his back turned towards you. Covering your eyes with your palms, you patiently wait as he rummages through your shared belongings.

“Aaaaaand open!” he proclaims.

Standing at the edge of the bed, he holds out a piece of paper, a toothy smile plastered across his face.

“It’s…” you trail off, leaning forward and squinting at the small print, “an email?”

Confusion is evident on your face as Satoru waltzes toward the bed, grin never faltering. “It is,” he confirms. “Read it.”

Holding the paper out to you, your eyes quickly scan over the words.

‘New Hire: Satoru Gojo’

‘Welcome to the school!’

‘high school teacher’

‘starting next Monday’

“Satoru…are you…are you going to be a teacher?” you ask quizzically.

“Mhm,” he hums excitedly, now kneeling next to you on the bed.

“I’m happy for you babe, but why?”

“Because…” he trails off, “if I have a job, then…then we don’t need my parent’s money.”

The realization sets in as your eyes meet his.

You open your mouth to speak, but before you can, he continues. 

"You’re my everything, and every day I’ve gotten to spend with you has been better than the last. I want to keep loving you, keep being with you, everyday for the rest of our lives. You and I both know that’s not possible with the threat of my family looming over us, so I…I did this.”

His eyes scan your face, desperate to see your response, his heart beating so fast it feels like it might burst out of his chest.

Without you even realizing it, he had wiped the skies clean of the cloud that had been shrouding you for the past year. The threat of his family was like an invisible weight on you, always there, wherever you went. A part of you knew he had to go back, had to return to the evil that tried to ruin him, to make him just like them. But now, he doesn’t - he doesn’t owe them anything, he doesn’t have to be anything or do anything - he just has to be yours.

When you smile up at him, he swears he feels the warmth of the sun.

“I love you,” you murmur, reaching your arms up around his neck before pulling him into a kiss.

“I love you too,” he whispers, “forever.”

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[madaqueue]

4.20

pairing: suguru geto x f!reader

themes/content: roommate geto. language, smut. smoking weed, high sex, pet names (angel, baby), praise, light nipple sucking, kissing, sex. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.4k

a/n: blah blah drugs are bad whatever anyways geto would absolutely smoke irl

You swing open the door to your apartment with a huff, throwing your bag down in the entryway and kicking your shoes across the hall.

“Bad day?” asks the familiar airy voice from across the room.

A sarcastic chuckle leaves your lips as you take your hair out of the tight bun you wear for work, shaking your head as it falls. “You don’t even know,” you respond, eyes traveling across the room to see the source of the question, your roommate Suguru, on the couch in your shared living room.

He sits with his legs spread, only adorned with grey sweatpants, his bare chest softly illuminated by the evening sun streaming in through the nearby window. Reaching his hand out, he grabs the bong perched on the coffee table, holding it up to you.

“Then you better get your ass over here, because I’ve been waiting all day for you to get home,” he teases.

He’s always known just what you need after a shitty day, a way to drown out the agitation your coworkers seem to never-endingly bring upon you. Running into your room, you quickly change into pajamas, desperate to remove the stuffy business casual outfit that always feels out of place on your body.

Now much more comfortable you return to the living room, slouching down next to him on the couch. “You didn’t have to wait,” you hum, reaching a hand out to grab the lighter, desperate for the mental respite of melting into that familiar high.

“‘Course I did,” he purrs, “no one else around to play with my hair the way you do, angel.”

Trying to ignore the butterflies building in your chest from the nickname, you flick the lighter on in your hand as you steady yourself above the glass piece. Igniting the carefully pre-packed bud, courtesy of Geto, the embers spread as you inhale the smoke. It burns slightly as it fills your lungs, holding for a moment before you exhale, the familiar sweet taste lingering in your mouth before passing it to Suguru.

Before you know it, the constant static of noise in your mind quiets.

The sounds of whatever cartoon he picked out echoes through your apartment as he situates himself between your legs on the couch, his back leaning against your chest as your palms comb through his dark hair.

This little routine between the two of you had become your favorite part of the week, an inexplicable relaxation washing over you as you sit in silence and forget your worries for a moment.

Your fingers absentmindedly braid and unbraid his locks, the sensation sending shivers through his body. For both of you this was practically a form of self-care, a way to treat yourselves for the stress you endure.

Shifting his weight slightly, he reaches an arm out to the table to grab the bong, holding it towards you so you can take another hit. Leaning forward, you rest your chin on his shoulder as he lights the bowl for you, smoke filling it as you inhale, the glass cool against the heat of your lips.

He repeats the action for himself, and something about the way his eyes barely close as he breathes in, his eyelashes fluttering ever so slightly, makes him look so soft.

Everything in your body feels light, warm. Lazily tracing your eyes over his body, he looks just as warm; something in you wants to touch him, feel him.

Sliding your arms below his, you place your hands on his thighs, taking in the fuzzy texture below your palms as you continue watching him. He exhales, turning his head slightly to look over his shoulder at you.

“What’re you doin’ there?” he breathes, curiosity lacing his voice.

The way his skin seems to glow draws you in, placing your lips against his neck as you continue tracing your fingertips along his legs.

“Soft,” you murmur into him.

An airy chuckle escapes his lips as he leans into your touch. His hands find their way to the bare skin of your legs beneath your shorts, his thumbs beginning to draw small circles along your inner thighs.

Suddenly, it feels like you’re vibrating, your entire body pulsing with each beat of your heart. Scanning for the source of the new sensation, you notice the heat between your legs, cunt throbbing in pace. Suguru’s hands move slightly higher, only intensifying the desire building within you.

Of course you had thought about fucking him, it would be insane if you hadn’t, especially given the way he walked around in only a towel after showering, hair dripping as he strolled through the kitchen, or how he’d come up behind you and press his chest against your back when you struggled to reach something from one of the taller shelves, or when he would stroke your hair gently after a long day as you rested your head in his lap.

But at the end of the day, you both knew you couldn’t - you couldn’t risk jeopardizing your living situation (or, more importantly, your friendship).

Maybe it was the weed clouding your thoughts, or maybe it was the months of shoving down your feelings for him, but right now, you can’t bring yourself to care: you need him.

Your hands move up his legs to the waistband of his sweatpants as you paw at the fabric, mouth never separating from the crook of his neck as you begin to suck lightly on it.

He takes in a soft gasp at the sensation. “Careful, angel,” he hums. He wouldn’t admit it, but your touch is absolutely addicting, the softness of your fingertips tingling every inch of his body. Deep down, he knows that if you start, he may not be able to stop.

Yet, rather than heeding his warning, his words ignite something in you, something that needs more. You slide one hand under his waistband, but as soon as you nearly make contact with his cock through his boxers, he moves.

Before you can even realize what’s happening, he’s turned around so he’s on top of you, one knee between your legs as the other cages you into the couch. Loose strands of hair fall over his face as his dark eyes meet your glazed-over ones.

“S-Sugu?” you stutter as you try to focus your gaze on him.

Everything feels cloudy, far away. The only sensation tethering you to reality you is him, his leg beginning to press against your clothed cunt through the flowy shorts covering your lower half. A soft moan vibrates inside you as your eyes slam shut, your hips bucking up, aching for any source of friction.

His chest rises and falls, struggling to take in enough air as he looks down at you, your eyes closed as you rut against him, the sight making his breath hitch.

“God, you look so perfect like this,” he mutters, your motions never slowing.

Your teeth sink into your lower lip, trying to stifle the sounds of pleasure threatening to leave your throat.

Suguru smiles above you, laughing to himself. “That feel good, baby?”

Eyes still closed, you nod, humming a soft, “Mhm,” in confirmation as you struggle to form words, the mixture of your high and your hedonism intensifying as you find a pace pathetically rubbing against his thigh.

Your hands reach up to him, grabbing onto his biceps in an attempt to ground yourself as you approach your release. Right as you feel the tightness in your stomach, he pulls his leg away from you, a desperate whine leaving your lips.

“Not yet, angel,” he purrs, “it’ll feel better if you cum on my cock. You want that?”

Your teary eyes flutter open and meet his, pupils blown wide in lust as you weakly nod.

He leans over you, lips nearly touching your ear. “I know you’ve got some words floating around in that pretty little head of yours,” he whispers, “use them.”

Using all of your energy, you manage to choke out a broken “Yes.”

“Good girl,” he whispers against your skin, his words making your cunt throb. His fingers trace down your body until he’s thumbing the waistband of your shorts. “Why don’t you take these off, pretty,” he softly commands.

He leans back, allowing you to remove your clothes and toss them across the room as he sits up, back resting against the couch and legs spread apart. He pats the thigh you had just been grinding against, and you crawl to your place in his lap.

Straddling his waist, his eyes lazily trace over your body, now only covered in your tight tank top and soaked-through panties. One of his hands moves to your hip as the other pulls down his sweatpants, freeing his cock that nearly hits his abdomen from how hard he is.

Your eyes are drawn downward as your mouth opens in awe of his size, reaching down and gently stroking up his length. He sucks in a sharp breath as your thumb traces over his slit, dragging the precum that had been pooling over his flushed tip.

So focused on the way his cock twitches in your palm you barely register his fingers ghosting between your legs, pushing your panties to the side as he glides up your slick folds.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he murmurs as you continue absentmindedly stroking him.

Without realizing it, your hips begin circling against his hand, his palm roughly rubbing against your clit as you whine. “More, Sugu, please,” you beg, the words tumbling out of your mouth.

He chuckles lightly at your soft desperation. “Okay, angel,” he hums, mind hazy with his own desire for you.

He gently grasps your wrist to move your hand away from his base and replaces it with his own, using the hand on your hip to guide you above him, aligning his tip with your entrance.

Slowly sinking down on him, your eyes flutter shut as waves of ecstasy course through your body. Your head falls forward as you lean against his shoulder, the sensation of being stretched by him making your vision go white.

When he finally bottoms out in you, your pussy clenches around him involuntarily, eliciting a soft “fuck,” from the man as your eyes threaten to roll back.

“Y’take me so well, angel,” he purrs, “such a good girl f’me,” his words slurring in lust.

Eyes still closed as you lean against him, you begin to rock your hips forward, your motions slow and imprecise. As you find your rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of you as you circle your waist, his hands trace up under your shirt, his touch like electricity sending shockwaves through your body.

His palms reach your breasts, his fingertips setting your nerves on fire as he kneads the soft mounds. Pleasure builds in your core as you lean your head back through a moan, mouth hanging open as you arch towards him. Leaning forward he places wet kisses down your neck before lifting your shirt above his wrists, sticking his tongue out and circling your hardened nipple before placing it in his mouth.

“F-fuck, Suguru,” you whine as your hands move to his hair. As he feels your fingertips brushing along his scalp, tingles run down his back and he shivers against your body.

Pulling away from your chest he moves his palm behind your head, tilting you down to look at him. Your eyes are unfocused, a lopsided grin across your cheeks as your eyes roam his face. He looks equally dazed, a lazy smirk decorating his features.

“Wanted you so bad,” he hums, “been thinkin’ about this for so long.” He looks up at you with a fuzzy adoration in his tired eyes, the smile on your face spreading as you blush at his words.

Everything about the moment is unhurried, calm, as you lean forward and kiss him. Your lips meet messily, mouths parting as your tongues glide together.

Your hips continue grinding against him mindlessly and he starts to thrust up in pace with your motions, his cock hitting deeper and deeper into you.

You moan into him, the only sound you can make as your thoughts cloud with bliss. Tension tugs at your core as you feel yourself approaching the edge of your release.

Your shared apartment is filled with the sounds of skin against skin, the lewd wet sounds of his cock bullying into you, your whimpers and moans echoing off the walls. Both of you are otherwise silent, lost in the moment, unable to formulate coherent thoughts other than the ecstasy you share.

“M’gonna cum, angel,” he finally whispers into you. “Finish with me?”

All you can muster is a nod, mouth loosely agape, waiting for his tongue to slot back against yours.

As soon as he does, his lips warm and moist, he thrusts harder into you, purely following a carnal need living deep within the core of his body, his muscles acting on their own.

Pushing his pelvis higher, his tip prods against the sweet spot inside you that has you completely losing yourself, the tightness inside you snapping as you come undone.

Your pussy flutters around his length, pushing him to his own release as he pumps thick, hot ropes of cum that coat your insides.

His hips slow as he imprecisely fucks himself into you, prolonging your high.

When you finally return to reality, he pulls his lips away from yours, a trail of saliva momentarily connecting you as your eyes flutter open to meet his.

“Y’look so pretty,” he coos, taking in your sweet fucked-out face: pupils blown wide, eyes glassed over, lips parted as drool pools in the corners of your lazy smile.

Resting his hand along your jaw, he brings his thumb over to wipe the spot from your mouth, rubbing it over your lower lip. Without thinking you stick your tongue out, taking his thumb into the warmth of your mouth as you suck it, eyes nearly rolling back inadvertently as his cock twitches inside you from the sight.

Moving his hand away, he instead pulls you into another messy kiss, feeling the heat of your skin against his.

Finally sliding yourself off him, you both giggle in bliss as you clean yourselves up, returning every once in a while to take another rip of the bong.

You fall asleep cuddled next to him on the couch, playing with his hair, more relaxed than you’ve ever felt before.

[madaqueue]

speaaaaaking of dripping in gold i’m sorry i didn’t post anything today :/ school is kicking my ass rn and i was gonna break the last chapter up into 2-3 shorter parts but it kinda felt ??? cheap ??? almost ???? so instead i’m just gonna wait until it’s all done and post it as one big part :) forgive me i’ll have more content soon xoxoxoxo

[madaqueue]

just curious because dripping in gold has been so good, do you have any other fics planned once it’s finished?

omg thank you :’) i don’t have any long (multi chapter) fics planned rn, i have a ton of oneshots and misc ideas but i’m gonna pause longer works until the semester is done!!! but that means i’ll probs be reopening my requests so if yall have anything you want me to write i’ll be doin that :)

[madaqueue]

Pretty Girl (fem!Choso)

pairing: fem!choso kamo x f!reader

themes/content: choso gets turned into a girl for a day, established relationship, use of he/him and she/her for choso. language, smut. pet names (baby), light nipple play (f!choso receiving), fingering (f!choso receiving), oral (f!choso receiving). 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.4k

a/n: heavily inspired by this post of fem!gojo which has been living in my mind since the day i read it! wrote this instead of the last chapter of the series please forgive me :)

Standing in the kitchen, your hands are damp from the sink water as you wash dishes, awaiting your boyfriend’s return. Glancing over at the oven clock, he should be home any minute; he’d been away on a mission for the past few days and you wanted your shared apartment to be tidy for him, with fresh roses sitting on the counter and his favorite cookies cooling on the stove.

The lock jiggles behind you and you hear the door swing open.

“Welcome home, Cho-” you start before the words stall. Turning around, your eyes immediately went to the height you expected to meet your boyfriend at, yet he wasn’t there. As your gaze travels down, it lands on someone who is definitively not him.

In front of you stands a girl, around Choso’s age, with the same tied up black hair, tattoo running across the bridge of her nose, in the same clothes he left in. She looked…almost exactly like him?

“Choso?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion.

An abashed grin forms on her face, one hand raising slightly in an awkward wave. “Hi, baby,” she says.

Her voice is light and airy, something inherently polite to it. Her cadence is an exact match of your boyfriend’s, using the pet name he knows you love when he calls you, it feels all too familiar. Your eyes continue to run over her, noting that even the way she carries herself is the same with her shoulders slightly slumped, head lazily hanging to the side.

It couldn’t be, right?

As your mouth opens slightly in bewilderment, she moves towards you, sliding her too-big shoes into the same spot in front of the entryway closet Choso always uses. When she’s finally an arm’s length away from you, you suddenly recognize the scent hanging on her: Choso’s cologne, the woody musk that smells like coming home.

“What…what happened?” you stammer out.

She laughs nervously. “Um, you know that curse I was sent to fight?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Well…it kind of did…this,” she gestures her hands down her body.

“So, you’re a girl?”

“Seems like it” she shrugs. “Shoko is working on a way to fix it, and Gojo said she should be ready by tomorrow, but until then I guess I’m stuck in this body.”

You step forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. “I’m just glad you’re home,” you smile.

Something about this sweet, feminine version of your boyfriend gives you butterflies. While you love his strength, his body, his masculinity, he suddenly feels so small, so soft, in your arms.

As she leans into you, Choso winces.

“You okay?” you ask, concern in your voice as you pull away.

“Yeah, just um…” he’s quick to explain, a blush forming across his cheeks, “sensitive.”

Cocking your head to the side, you try to understand the sentence. Your eyes roam her body until they land on the likely suspect: her tits. They jut slightly into the fabric of her purple robes, and you can make out the outline of her firm nipples through it.

“You poor thing,” you coo, reaching your hands out to her chest. You palm her breasts, pillowy in your hands as your thumbs trace her nipples. “Sensitive here?”

Her eyebrows crease in pleasure as her teeth bite down on her lower lip, attempting to stifle a moan. “Mhm,” she manages to choke out.

You watch her hands move down her front, landing on her lower abdomen as she paws over her clothes in discomfort.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, worry lacing your voice as your fingers slow their paths over her chest.

“Feels weird…” she mumbles, beginning to massage herself with her fingertips.

Understanding clicks in your mind as you recall the familiar physical sensation. “Aw, Cho,” you purr, one hand tracing down her stomach before landing on her inner thigh, working slowly up between her legs, “are you turned on?”

“N-no,” she stammers, cheeks flushing.

Your fingers slip into his underwear, the now-loose boxers Choso had packed for his trip, and glide one finger up his slick folds.

She shudders at the sensation, arms reaching out to latch onto your shoulders for stability as her eyes slam shut.

“You’re so wet,” you mutter in awe, almost to yourself, as you continue tracing up her cunt.

A soft whine escapes her lips, and you think it has to be the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. Choso’s sounds were always music to your ears, hearing how his deep voice strained through pleasure, but this was something else. Her voice came out light, sweet and smooth like honey.

It was a sound you needed to hear again.

A devious smile appears on your lips as you pull your hand away, eliciting another whine from her at the sudden lack of stimulation.

“Do you want me to help you feel better?” you ask, placing a hand under her chin and tilting her head up so she’s looking at you.

Those sweet puppy dog eyes meet yours as she looks up at you through long eyelashes, an innocent desperation on her face. “Yes, please,” she nods.

“Of course, baby,” you smile, excitement building inside you as you grab her hand and lead her to the bedroom.

Your hands make their way to her skin, parting the robes over her abdomen as you guide her clothes off. Simultaneously her hands go to you, the softness of her fingertips tingling your skin as she helps you undress.

Finally bare in front of you, your eyes roam her body. Her perfectly-sized tits perk against her chest, her smaller frame with soft edges lining every curve, everything about her is absolutely flawless. A smile forms on your face at the sight, gently leaning forward to place your lips against hers as you take her hand.

Seating yourself on the bed, your back against the headboard and your legs out in front of you, you pull him into your lap, straddling your waist.

“You look so pretty,” you muse as you look up at her, the gentle curve of her jawline, her black bangs loosely covering her softened eyes.

He blushes above you, ears reddening at your kind words as your hands make their way to his waist.

“Okay,” you breathe to yourself, heart beating in anticipation. Reaching out a hand hesitantly, you gather the slick that’s pooled at her entrance and slide it along her. Your thumb finds her clit, brushing circles against the sensitive bud.

As soon as you do she throws her head forward, resting against your shoulder as her eyes close in pleasure.

“That feel good?” you ask through a breathy chuckle.

You feel her nod shakily against your body as you continue your motion.

Moving your fingers down you hover over her entrance, feeling her clench around nothing as the heat in her core builds.

“Please,” she whimpers against your skin, hips rutting down, desperate to feel you inside her.

Normally you’d tease him, make him beg for your touch until he’s on the brink of tears before giving into his desires, but right now both of you need this more than you care to admit.

Slowly sliding one finger into her, she lets out an airy moan, her cunt tight around you.

“Fuck, s’like your suckin’ me in,” you observe quietly, words you had heard Choso murmur into your ear before as he would slide his cock into you. Something about feeling how badly she wants you, hell, needs you, has that familiar heat pooling in your stomach.

Your fingers curl up into her, searching for the same spot that makes you see stars. When she lets out a choked “Fuck,” you know you’ve found it, pounding into her gummy walls with your fingertips. His hips begin moving above you, grinding imprecisely against your hand.

“You want more, baby?”

“Mhm,” she strains as she buries her head into the crook of your neck.

Complying, you slide another finger into her, making her legs shudder at the added thickness.

Finding a rhythm as she rides your fingers, your eyes are drawn upward to her tits, bouncing lightly in front of you. You part your lips, sticking your tongue out to circle around her nipple before placing it into your mouth.

He lets out a choked cry, and you feel his pussy begin clenching around your fingers.

“I - ah,” she whines, “feels weird again.”

You separate from her chest for a moment to comfort her. “It’s okay, just relax, let yourself cum for me,” you hum before latching your lips back onto her hardened bud.

She melts at your words, losing herself in the pleasure of your touch as she comes undone.

Letting out a moan, his body begins to shake as his cunt flutters around your fingers. She curls herself forward into your body, grabbing onto any part of you she can find as she digs into your skin, your warmth the only thing tethering her to reality as her vision goes black.

Your fingers slow as you coax her through her orgasm, holding her tightly against you. His breathing is ragged as he shifts to look you in the eyes, gaze full of awe. Her soft pink lips are parted as she pants, pupils blown wide in lust.

Pulling your fingers out of her cunt, you lift them to your mouth, placing them inside to lick her essence off them. As your tongue moves over your digits, a moan rumbles in your throat at her taste.

“God, you taste so sweet,” you whisper, a desire for more building in you.

If his mind wasn’t so clouded with the pure ecstasy you just brought him he would be more embarrassed, but all he can do now is give you a sweet, fucked-out grin. She leans down, lips messily landing against yours as she kisses you. Her tongue enters your mouth, the taste of her lingering on yours as they imprecisely meld.

Everything about her is impossibly soft, even the way she sloppily kisses you, her delicate hands moving to hold your jaw as her thumbs trace your cheeks. When she pulls away, a thin trail of saliva connects your lips as her gaze focuses on you.

Unsure of how to ask for what you deeply want, you mumble, “Choso?”

“Mhm?” he hums, still struggling to process his words.

“Could you…” you trail off, “could you sit on my face?”

Without a second of hesitation, she answers. “Okay,” she breathes, her glassy eyes lazily roaming your face.

At this moment, he doesn’t fucking care what you want to do - he’ll do anything if he gets to feel how he just felt; you can use him in any way your sweet mind can come up with if it means he gets to cum like that again. Right now, he is yours.

Trying to hide your surprise at her agreement, you nod, shifting down in the bed so you’re laying on your back, granting her enough space above your head. She settles in on top of you, gripping onto the top of the headboard as your hands make their way to her hips hovering just beyond your face.

Pulling him down, he slowly lowers himself onto your tongue, his taste making you shudder in excitement as you lick up him.

“Fuck,” she sighs out, biting down on her hand to silence her cries.

You shake your head into her core in disapproval. “Wanna hear you,” you mutter, breath hot against her.

She adjusts quickly, allowing her mouth to hang open as your tongue resumes its motion. You roughly circle his clit, gently sucking on it as he whimpers above you.

Choso was always vocal, but there is something so angelic about the sounds he’s making as he writhes above you, the shocked gasps and moans leaving his lips nearly enough to make you finish without even feeling his touch.

As you continue working her with your mouth, she begins bucking her hips irregularly, desperate for more. You bring a thumb down to her clit again, pressing rough circles into the sensitive bundle. All of your motions are ones you learned from Choso, and your chest warms knowing they affect him the same way they do you.

“So - a-ah - so good,” he whimpers, hips beginning to stutter as he approaches his release.

His entire body feels light as you moan into his wetness, your grip on his skin tightening to prevent him from floating away into bliss.

Another whine leaves her lips, sensing white hot flames prick at her stomach, the familiar sensation spreading through her body. “I-I’m gonna-”

Before she can get out the rest of her words, her entire body is racked in shivers as she loses herself on your tongue. Her juices flow down your chin as you desperately try to lap up every ounce, low groans vibrating against her cunt. Your name tumbles out of her lips between her cries of pleasure, her voice light through uneven breaths.

As she comes down from her high, her legs finally give out and she falls next to you in bed, completely spent. Your eyes meet her half-lidded ones, unfocused; her mouth hangs open, drool threatening to pool in the corner as she stares lovingly up at you.

Reaching a hand out, you stroke her arm, Choso shuddering at the touch. Her hair is now a complete mess, buns almost entirely undone as pieces fall around her head into the pillow, forming a small halo around her.

“Well?” you hum, leaning up to press a kiss to her flushed cheeks. “Do you feel better?”

A lazy grin tugs at one corner of his mouth as he nods, body numb in ecstasy.

“Good,” you smile, “I’m glad I could help.”

He cuddles up to you, eyes fluttering shut as he nuzzles his head into your neck.

“Thank you,” he whispers, “thanks for lovin’ me no matter what I look like.”

You reach a hand around to the back of her head, gently taking out the buns and running your hands through her hair, slowly carding her black locks through your fingers and you swear you could hear her practically purr against your skin.

“Baby, I’ll always love you,” you wrap your leg around his waist to pull him closer. “You’ll always be my Choso.”

You fall asleep holding him, knowing you will love him, every version of him, forever.

[madaqueue]

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@drakenswifeyy @cre8inghavoc

Dripping in Gold | Chapter 9

synopsis: finding a job was never easy, and why even bother trying after you meet satoru gojo, a man with mysterious and exorbitant wealth, who wants nothing more than to spoil you with it? the only caveat to your little arrangement is that it can never, ever, become personal.

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

themes/content: non-curse modern au, sugar daddy gojo. language, smut. kissing, praise, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving). 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.6k

a/n: y'all idk what happened i swear i was in heat or smthn writing these last two chapters i promise we'll get back to plot soon enough

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

You awake the next morning to Satoru softly snoring, his arms wrapped around your body and your cheek pressed against his bare chest. Tilting your head up at him, he looks truly angelic: the sunlight casting a glow over his white hair like a halo, his face flushed a soft pink in sleep, his lips parted ever so slightly through peaceful breaths.

Almost as though he could sense you, his eyes flutter open, long eyelashes batting against sleep as his gaze focuses on you.

“G’morning, sweetheart,” he purrs through his low morning voice, his arms tightening around your body and pulling you closer to him.

“Morning, ‘Toru,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his warm cheek.

The two of you have shared a few mornings together, but always in the unfamiliar setting of a hotel room, never daring to stay at your homes. And yet, here he is, in your bed, looking more perfect than ever.

His free hand reaches across you to run through your hair, stroking your head while you lean into him. The arm that wrapped around your body moves to your hip, inching further down ever so slightly.

Seeing you like this, all cozy and warm, waking up in the morning sun, does something to him: he simply can’t help himself when you look so sweet. In the past when you’ve spent the night with one another he’s planned something early the next morning, whether it be breakfast, picnics, massages, or any other way he could think to pamper you. Yet, today, your only responsibility is to soak in each other’s presence. He smiles to himself, knowing he can take his time.

Burying his head into your shoulder, he kisses along your neck. The faint scent of vanilla hangs on your skin, drawing him in as he nuzzles his face further into you. While he starts with soft, fluttering motions, they quickly become rougher as he sucks and nips against your skin with enough force to leave pretty little bruises.

“‘Toru?” you try to stifle your moan at the sensation through gritted teeth. “What are you doing?”

“You just look so pretty,” he coos.

Before you can quip at his non-explanation, you feel his fingertips brush between your legs, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

However, his hand stills with nothing more than a faint glide over your panties. You whine at the lack of stimulation, moving your hips down to try and grind against his palm.

He chuckles at the action. “So needy already? You went months without me, and now can’t even go a few seconds?”

You want to taunt him, glare at him, prove him wrong, but your body has other plans. Instead, you just continue attempting to get any sort of friction from his hand, imprecisely rubbing against him.

Pulling away, he shifts so he’s looking down at you through his long white eyelashes, his forehead pressed against yours. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m not that cruel. All you have to do is ask,” he smirks, knowing how much he loves to hear you beg for him.

“P-please,” you whisper, voice shaky as you squirm in his hold.

He cocks his head to the side. “Please what?”

Trying to roll your eyes sarcastically, they instead nearly roll back as his thumb presses against your clit.

“More,” the only word you can moan at the sudden pressure.

He sighs through a smile at just how easily you lose yourself under his touch. Of course, he knows he’s not much better - he couldn’t even try to count the number of times you’ve grazed his crotch while on a date and immediately gotten him hard, having to take you to the nearest bathroom to fuck you then and there - but it still makes his heart flutter to see you this needy for him.

“As you wish, princess,” he breathes before roughly inserting two fingers into you. He enters easily, your insides warm and wet, all for him.

Your back arches off the bed as he fills you, his fingertips curling up to that sweet spot that has you seeing stars and makes you shut your eyes tightly in pleasure.

His voice is airy above you as he speaks. “Open your eyes.”

Complying, you are met with the sight of him smiling down at you, his white hair falling over his forehead and nearly covering his blue irises.

“That’s my girl,” he coos, the praise making your cunt flutter around him.

He pumps his hand into you, his slender fingers reaching into deeper places than you ever could. Soft moans and gasps continue to leave your lips as you stare up at him, eyes becoming increasingly glossy as he continues.

While he watches you, a sudden pang of jealousy hits him; he can’t believe he went all those months without this, without you. He’s angry at himself, and angry at anyone else who dared touch you, when you should have been his.

You sense the shift in his demeanor as he gets rougher, faster, his wrist moving irregularly as his palm begins to rub against your clit.

“M-mm, ‘Toru,” you whine, trying to grab his wrist but unable to steady his motions.

“Can anybody else fuck you like I fuck you, hm?” he asks, his voice low and gravely.

Shocked at his question, you try to stutter out an answer. “N-no, no one,” you answer truthfully.

In the time since you met him, the only other person you hooked up with was Toji, and it wasn’t nearly as pleasurable as anything with Satoru. He had that tender roughness you loved, the way he always and easily took care of you like it was second nature to him. While you were seeing each other he learned the intricacies of your body, knowing exactly where to kiss, rub, suck, press, to get the sweetest little sounds out of your mouth until you were both left panting messes.

While you were apart, you were only able to think of him on those nights where the throbbing between your legs became overwhelming. You’d think of his hands, his lips, his cock, anything that reminded you of the way he’d bring you wave after wave of pleasure. In fact, the only way you had been able to get yourself off was to imagine his fingers inside of you instead of yours. You couldn’t seem to replicate the way his fingertips pressed into that perfect spot, and having him here now was better than months of your imagination had proved.

Yet, Satoru didn’t know this: all he knows is that he never should have let you go, never should have let you be with anyone else. You were his best, you always would be. And he needed to hear you say it.

“Bet no one else makes you feel this good,” he growls, trying to hide his desperation as he awaits your answer.

You shake your head, biting your teeth into your lower lip as you look up at him with watery eyes. The pressure pooling in your stomach was almost too much to bear as he beckons you closer and closer to your release.

“Say it,” he hisses.

“No one, f-fuck, no one like you,” you choke out through moans. “N-ngh, the best, only finished, a-ah, thinkin’ about you,” you confess.

His eyes light up, sensing the truth in your words. “Yeah?” he whispers breathlessly. The idea makes his cock twitch, knowing that you thought of him just like how he thought of you.

“Mhm,” you nod, trying to cling to the conversation as you feel yourself getting pulled to the edge.

With new fervor, his fingers inside you speed up, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. When he feels you begin clenching around him he knows you’re close, and his mouth crashes into yours, locking you into a passionate kiss. Sucking gently on your lower lip, his tongue slides against yours.

Your nails dig into his arms as you feel yourself come undone on his fingers, moaning into his mouth as your vision goes white from pleasure, body shaking beneath his.

He separates his lips and looks down at you as you pant, desperately trying to fill your lungs with air as your head spins from the power of your orgasm.

He grins proudly, recalling your words. “So, you really thought about me when we were apart?”

Thoughts still fuzzy, you can only nod in response, staring into his mesmerizing blue eyes.

“Well in that case, guess I better give you somethin’ else to remember,” his smile becoming more devious as his gaze moves down your body.

Your eyes widening in surprise, you shake your head weakly. “C-can’t, ‘Toru, s’too much.” You still feel spent after last night, but you know that once he starts he can’t stop, especially now that he’s making up for lost time.

Tilting his head mockingly, he coos, “Aw, c’mon now sweetheart, you’re the one who asked for more, remember?” He shifts so his face is above your chest, trailing kisses across your breast as his tongue flicks against your hardened nipples, eliciting a moan from you. “I know you can take it, such a good girl, like always,” he whispers before continuing his path downard, settling between your legs.

His breath is hot against your core as he places his lips teasingly along your inner thighs. Your hands move to his hair, unknowingly pulling him towards you; your mind may not know it, but your body understands it needs him.

A chuckle escapes his lips as he feels you tug him in, his tongue licking a wet stripe up your folds. An unashamed whimper leaves your throat as you arch off the bed, holding him against you as you grind up his face.

“See, ‘knew you wanted more,” he whispers into you.

He once again dives into your sopping cunt, desperate to please you. As he coaxes an immeasurable number of orgasms out of you with his tongue and fingers, he laps up every ounce of your essence, slick coating his mouth and down his chin. He relishes the way you moan each time, chasing the high of hearing his name leaving your lips.

What feels like hours passes with him never relenting until you both are sweaty messes. Your grip in his hair is loose, barely holding onto any piece of reality, when he finally pulls away from you.

He adjusts to lay next to you in bed, taking in the sight of you as he peppers your face with kisses. Your pupils are blown, nearly black from lust, mouth hanging lazily open in a fucked-out grin, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth, too weak to wipe it away.

As he looks at you, his heart swells with love - how lucky he is to have you next to him, so content, all thanks to him.

“‘Toru?” you whisper, his name the only word you’d been able to utter, hell, the only thing you’d been able to think, for the past few hours.

He brushes hair off of your forehead as he gently presses his lips against your skin, hot and covered in a thin layer of sweat. “Yes, princess?”

It takes all of your concentration to find the words you want to express, wanting to make him feel as good as you do in this moment. “You didn’t get to finish,” you manage to choke out, voice hoarse from moaning.

Laughing softly at your concern for him, he smiles, continuing to stroke your hair. “It’s my only job to make you happy, don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”

You pout, knowing that you’d be even happier with his cock down your throat, the desire to please him becoming overwhelming.

He chuckles again until he’s cut short by your hand reaching down, your fingertips gently stroking the underside of his dick as he inhales sharply. “S-shit,” he breathes shakily, not realizing just how sensitive he had become while going down on you.

Looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes, your hand grasps weakly around him, gingerly spreading the precum that had pooled at his tip down his length. “Please?” you whisper.

God, he needs you.

Without another word he adjusts in bed, sitting so your head rests against his thigh, his back hot against the cool wood of your headboard.

Now level with his cock, you loll your tongue out, lazily licking up the smeared precum. Parting your lips, you slide his flushed red tip into your mouth, creating a gentle suction against him.

His hands find their way to the back of your head, guiding you further down his length. He’s normally not this needy, this desperate, but with the taste of you lingering on his tongue, the warmth of your mouth around his cock after months without it, he can’t help himself.

When you near his base, he thrusts his hips up into you, pushing his tip to the back of your throat. A helpless whimper escapes his throat at the feeling, holding you in place.

“T-that’s it, just like that, sweetheart,” he whines.

You hum in response, the vibration along his sensitive cock almost enough to send him over the edge.

Slowly pulling your lips up his length, your tongue slides along him, his legs shaking as the cool air hits the space where your mouth had been.

However, your lack of urgency drove Satoru crazy. “Can I…fuck…” he barely manages to choke out, his entire body begining to tremble from temptation.

Your half-lidded eyes flit up to his, and the sight of you, lips parted around his cock, drool now making its way down your chin, the pure filthy mess you are, makes him shudder.

Understanding what he was asking, that he needs more control, that he needs to fuck your throat, you hum again in confirmation. You barely had the energy to get this far, so it was truly a blessing when he grabs the back of your head and neck, steadying you in place.

He bucks his hips up into you mindlessly, only knowing that he craves the warmth of your mouth. The lewd sound of hills balls smacking against your chin, coated in a mix of saliva and his precum, echoes through your apartment.

The only other sounds are his pathetically sweet whimpers, praises falling from his lips as he leans his head back against the wall. “Takin’ me s’good,” “S’perfect,” “Mouth was made f’me,” the constant stream of words filling the air.

Without warning, his movement stutter as a guttural moan escapes his throat. His whole body trembles as he pumps thick ropes of cum into the back of your throat, holding you against him as you swallow it, grounding yourself to reality as you savor the taste of him.

His shaky hands release their grip on you as he collapses into the pillows, eyes half-open, staring at the ceiling. Your lips finally separate from his cock as you lean up to him, his chest heaving under your hand as you rest your body against his. Your fingers trace along his jawline and he shivers at your touch, opening his eyes slightly more to look down at you.

Both of you now absolutely fucked-out messes, glazed-over eyes scanning each other’s faces as you melt into the bliss of the moment. He kisses you softly, breath still unsteady as his arms loosely wrap around you, holding you to him.

This is what you had been missing for all those months without him - the warmth of his embrace, the tender love, the peace in your heart. As you drift back into exhausted sleep, you hear him whisper something as he places his lips against your forehead, something that sounds an awful lot like “I love you.”

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[madaqueue]

Dripping in Gold | Chapter 9

synopsis: finding a job was never easy, and why even bother trying after you meet satoru gojo, a man with mysterious and exorbitant wealth, who wants nothing more than to spoil you with it? the only caveat to your little arrangement is that it can never, ever, become personal.

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

themes/content: non-curse modern au, sugar daddy gojo. language, smut. kissing, praise, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving). 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.6k

a/n: y'all idk what happened i swear i was in heat or smthn writing these last two chapters i promise we'll get back to plot soon enough

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

You awake the next morning to Satoru softly snoring, his arms wrapped around your body and your cheek pressed against his bare chest. Tilting your head up at him, he looks truly angelic: the sunlight casting a glow over his white hair like a halo, his face flushed a soft pink in sleep, his lips parted ever so slightly through peaceful breaths.

Almost as though he could sense you, his eyes flutter open, long eyelashes batting against sleep as his gaze focuses on you.

“G’morning, sweetheart,” he purrs through his low morning voice, his arms tightening around your body and pulling you closer to him.

“Morning, ‘Toru,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his warm cheek.

The two of you have shared a few mornings together, but always in the unfamiliar setting of a hotel room, never daring to stay at your homes. And yet, here he is, in your bed, looking more perfect than ever.

His free hand reaches across you to run through your hair, stroking your head while you lean into him. The arm that wrapped around your body moves to your hip, inching further down ever so slightly.

Seeing you like this, all cozy and warm, waking up in the morning sun, does something to him: he simply can’t help himself when you look so sweet. In the past when you’ve spent the night with one another he’s planned something early the next morning, whether it be breakfast, picnics, massages, or any other way he could think to pamper you. Yet, today, your only responsibility is to soak in each other’s presence. He smiles to himself, knowing he can take his time.

Burying his head into your shoulder, he kisses along your neck. The faint scent of vanilla hangs on your skin, drawing him in as he nuzzles his face further into you. While he starts with soft, fluttering motions, they quickly become rougher as he sucks and nips against your skin with enough force to leave pretty little bruises.

“‘Toru?” you try to stifle your moan at the sensation through gritted teeth. “What are you doing?”

“You just look so pretty,” he coos.

Before you can quip at his non-explanation, you feel his fingertips brush between your legs, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

However, his hand stills with nothing more than a faint glide over your panties. You whine at the lack of stimulation, moving your hips down to try and grind against his palm.

He chuckles at the action. “So needy already? You went months without me, and now can’t even go a few seconds?”

You want to taunt him, glare at him, prove him wrong, but your body has other plans. Instead, you just continue attempting to get any sort of friction from his hand, imprecisely rubbing against him.

Pulling away, he shifts so he’s looking down at you through his long white eyelashes, his forehead pressed against yours. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m not that cruel. All you have to do is ask,” he smirks, knowing how much he loves to hear you beg for him.

“P-please,” you whisper, voice shaky as you squirm in his hold.

He cocks his head to the side. “Please what?”

Trying to roll your eyes sarcastically, they instead nearly roll back as his thumb presses against your clit.

“More,” the only word you can moan at the sudden pressure.

He sighs through a smile at just how easily you lose yourself under his touch. Of course, he knows he’s not much better - he couldn’t even try to count the number of times you’ve grazed his crotch while on a date and immediately gotten him hard, having to take you to the nearest bathroom to fuck you then and there - but it still makes his heart flutter to see you this needy for him.

“As you wish, princess,” he breathes before roughly inserting two fingers into you. He enters easily, your insides warm and wet, all for him.

Your back arches off the bed as he fills you, his fingertips curling up to that sweet spot that has you seeing stars and makes you shut your eyes tightly in pleasure.

His voice is airy above you as he speaks. “Open your eyes.”

Complying, you are met with the sight of him smiling down at you, his white hair falling over his forehead and nearly covering his blue irises.

“That’s my girl,” he coos, the praise making your cunt flutter around him.

He pumps his hand into you, his slender fingers reaching into deeper places than you ever could. Soft moans and gasps continue to leave your lips as you stare up at him, eyes becoming increasingly glossy as he continues.

While he watches you, a sudden pang of jealousy hits him; he can’t believe he went all those months without this, without you. He’s angry at himself, and angry at anyone else who dared touch you, when you should have been his.

You sense the shift in his demeanor as he gets rougher, faster, his wrist moving irregularly as his palm begins to rub against your clit.

“M-mm, ‘Toru,” you whine, trying to grab his wrist but unable to steady his motions.

“Can anybody else fuck you like I fuck you, hm?” he asks, his voice low and gravely.

Shocked at his question, you try to stutter out an answer. “N-no, no one,” you answer truthfully.

In the time since you met him, the only other person you hooked up with was Toji, and it wasn’t nearly as pleasurable as anything with Satoru. He had that tender roughness you loved, the way he always and easily took care of you like it was second nature to him. While you were seeing each other he learned the intricacies of your body, knowing exactly where to kiss, rub, suck, press, to get the sweetest little sounds out of your mouth until you were both left panting messes.

While you were apart, you were only able to think of him on those nights where the throbbing between your legs became overwhelming. You’d think of his hands, his lips, his cock, anything that reminded you of the way he’d bring you wave after wave of pleasure. In fact, the only way you had been able to get yourself off was to imagine his fingers inside of you instead of yours. You couldn’t seem to replicate the way his fingertips pressed into that perfect spot, and having him here now was better than months of your imagination had proved.

Yet, Satoru didn’t know this: all he knows is that he never should have let you go, never should have let you be with anyone else. You were his best, you always would be. And he needed to hear you say it.

“Bet no one else makes you feel this good,” he growls, trying to hide his desperation as he awaits your answer.

You shake your head, biting your teeth into your lower lip as you look up at him with watery eyes. The pressure pooling in your stomach was almost too much to bear as he beckons you closer and closer to your release.

“Say it,” he hisses.

“No one, f-fuck, no one like you,” you choke out through moans. “N-ngh, the best, only finished, a-ah, thinkin’ about you,” you confess.

His eyes light up, sensing the truth in your words. “Yeah?” he whispers breathlessly. The idea makes his cock twitch, knowing that you thought of him just like how he thought of you.

“Mhm,” you nod, trying to cling to the conversation as you feel yourself getting pulled to the edge.

With new fervor, his fingers inside you speed up, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. When he feels you begin clenching around him he knows you’re close, and his mouth crashes into yours, locking you into a passionate kiss. Sucking gently on your lower lip, his tongue slides against yours.

Your nails dig into his arms as you feel yourself come undone on his fingers, moaning into his mouth as your vision goes white from pleasure, body shaking beneath his.

He separates his lips and looks down at you as you pant, desperately trying to fill your lungs with air as your head spins from the power of your orgasm.

He grins proudly, recalling your words. “So, you really thought about me when we were apart?”

Thoughts still fuzzy, you can only nod in response, staring into his mesmerizing blue eyes.

“Well in that case, guess I better give you somethin’ else to remember,” his smile becoming more devious as his gaze moves down your body.

Your eyes widening in surprise, you shake your head weakly. “C-can’t, ‘Toru, s’too much.” You still feel spent after last night, but you know that once he starts he can’t stop, especially now that he’s making up for lost time.

Tilting his head mockingly, he coos, “Aw, c’mon now sweetheart, you’re the one who asked for more, remember?” He shifts so his face is above your chest, trailing kisses across your breast as his tongue flicks against your hardened nipples, eliciting a moan from you. “I know you can take it, such a good girl, like always,” he whispers before continuing his path downard, settling between your legs.

His breath is hot against your core as he places his lips teasingly along your inner thighs. Your hands move to his hair, unknowingly pulling him towards you; your mind may not know it, but your body understands it needs him.

A chuckle escapes his lips as he feels you tug him in, his tongue licking a wet stripe up your folds. An unashamed whimper leaves your throat as you arch off the bed, holding him against you as you grind up his face.

“See, ‘knew you wanted more,” he whispers into you.

He once again dives into your sopping cunt, desperate to please you. As he coaxes an immeasurable number of orgasms out of you with his tongue and fingers, he laps up every ounce of your essence, slick coating his mouth and down his chin. He relishes the way you moan each time, chasing the high of hearing his name leaving your lips.

What feels like hours passes with him never relenting until you both are sweaty messes. Your grip in his hair is loose, barely holding onto any piece of reality, when he finally pulls away from you.

He adjusts to lay next to you in bed, taking in the sight of you as he peppers your face with kisses. Your pupils are blown, nearly black from lust, mouth hanging lazily open in a fucked-out grin, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth, too weak to wipe it away.

As he looks at you, his heart swells with love - how lucky he is to have you next to him, so content, all thanks to him.

“‘Toru?” you whisper, his name the only word you’d been able to utter, hell, the only thing you’d been able to think, for the past few hours.

He brushes hair off of your forehead as he gently presses his lips against your skin, hot and covered in a thin layer of sweat. “Yes, princess?”

It takes all of your concentration to find the words you want to express, wanting to make him feel as good as you do in this moment. “You didn’t get to finish,” you manage to choke out, voice hoarse from moaning.

Laughing softly at your concern for him, he smiles, continuing to stroke your hair. “It’s my only job to make you happy, don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”

You pout, knowing that you’d be even happier with his cock down your throat, the desire to please him becoming overwhelming.

He chuckles again until he’s cut short by your hand reaching down, your fingertips gently stroking the underside of his dick as he inhales sharply. “S-shit,” he breathes shakily, not realizing just how sensitive he had become while going down on you.

Looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes, your hand grasps weakly around him, gingerly spreading the precum that had pooled at his tip down his length. “Please?” you whisper.

God, he needs you.

Without another word he adjusts in bed, sitting so your head rests against his thigh, his back hot against the cool wood of your headboard.

Now level with his cock, you loll your tongue out, lazily licking up the smeared precum. Parting your lips, you slide his flushed red tip into your mouth, creating a gentle suction against him.

His hands find their way to the back of your head, guiding you further down his length. He’s normally not this needy, this desperate, but with the taste of you lingering on his tongue, the warmth of your mouth around his cock after months without it, he can’t help himself.

When you near his base, he thrusts his hips up into you, pushing his tip to the back of your throat. A helpless whimper escapes his throat at the feeling, holding you in place.

“T-that’s it, just like that, sweetheart,” he whines.

You hum in response, the vibration along his sensitive cock almost enough to send him over the edge.

Slowly pulling your lips up his length, your tongue slides along him, his legs shaking as the cool air hits the space where your mouth had been.

However, your lack of urgency drove Satoru crazy. “Can I…fuck…” he barely manages to choke out, his entire body begining to tremble from temptation.

Your half-lidded eyes flit up to his, and the sight of you, lips parted around his cock, drool now making its way down your chin, the pure filthy mess you are, makes him shudder.

Understanding what he was asking, that he needs more control, that he needs to fuck your throat, you hum again in confirmation. You barely had the energy to get this far, so it was truly a blessing when he grabs the back of your head and neck, steadying you in place.

He bucks his hips up into you mindlessly, only knowing that he craves the warmth of your mouth. The lewd sound of hills balls smacking against your chin, coated in a mix of saliva and his precum, echoes through your apartment.

The only other sounds are his pathetically sweet whimpers, praises falling from his lips as he leans his head back against the wall. “Takin’ me s’good,” “S’perfect,” “Mouth was made f’me,” the constant stream of words filling the air.

Without warning, his movement stutter as a guttural moan escapes his throat. His whole body trembles as he pumps thick ropes of cum into the back of your throat, holding you against him as you swallow it, grounding yourself to reality as you savor the taste of him.

His shaky hands release their grip on you as he collapses into the pillows, eyes half-open, staring at the ceiling. Your lips finally separate from his cock as you lean up to him, his chest heaving under your hand as you rest your body against his. Your fingers trace along his jawline and he shivers at your touch, opening his eyes slightly more to look down at you.

Both of you now absolutely fucked-out messes, glazed-over eyes scanning each other’s faces as you melt into the bliss of the moment. He kisses you softly, breath still unsteady as his arms loosely wrap around you, holding you to him.

This is what you had been missing for all those months without him - the warmth of his embrace, the tender love, the peace in your heart. As you drift back into exhausted sleep, you hear him whisper something as he places his lips against your forehead, something that sounds an awful lot like “I love you.”

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i am but a humble, lowly peasant asking for ch 9 of dripping in gold 🤲🏻

BAHAHAHAHA i love u guys i ended up having a suuuuuper long day of classes but i pinky promise to post the moment i get home!!!! (also the next chapter is just MORE SMUT lmao)