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#[ THE WAY HIS VOICE CRACKED IN MY MIND ]
seaweedstarshine · 1 month
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Sometimes I think of Amy Pond, who grew up being called mad by those who wielded the word as a tool of exclusion and shame —
Amy Pond, who though forced into the hands of four psychiatrists, still clung to that which they called madness until those systems which elevate psychosocial conformity above humanity stripped it from her —
Amy Pond, whose imaginary friend reappeared for a single hour after twelve years and reignited that faith before disappearing for two more years —
Amy Pond, who spent those those two years under the same implicit threat ingrained in her through psychiatric violence, and thus began to believe the man who stopped the invasion was “just a madman with a box,” only for him to agree, and to also call her “mad, impossible Amy Pond,” reframing madness as non-negative for the first time in her life —
Amy Pond, who ignored the disembodied voice of her imaginary friend even as she ran away with him for real, who still lived each day with the traumatic internalization of deviancy dictated upon her by the psychiatric-industrial complex that shaped her from childhood —
Amy Pond, who wouldn't acknowledge the Doctor's voice, such that it took an Angel in her eye that was literally killing her to ensure she couldn't reality check herself —
Amy Pond, who stood before a room which muttered about “the psychiatrists we brought her to,” and though afraid, escaped their rigid parameters of acceptable existence.
#I like seeing it as indicating she began hearing his voice when he was gone for all those years! why else wouldn't she say anything?#actually psychotic Amy agenda#Amy Pond#eleventh doctor#reclaimed language#oh look its another antipsychiatry themed doctor who post#sumn abt in Fairies At The Bottom Of The Garden audio AND Imaginary Enemies comic we see Amelia bein called slurs against psychotic people#(shes called psycho in both)#like!!! and SO MUCH OF AMYS STORY is about her claiming her agency in ways that previous companions weren't allowed to-#companions whose status as a Wife was a signifier of an to end of their value individually- 'this is no place for a married woman' etc#in some cases Wife-ness forced upon them *as* a denial of agency 'I spent all that time trying to find you I'm not going back now!' etc#whereas Amys story deconstructs that; Amys “Choice” is an illusion- Amy being a Wife doesn't demote her agency as an companion#anyways I love that aspect of reclaimed agency for Amy but ALSO#“madness” as an expression of agency against systems of oppression is SO relevant. the mind defends itself and the alternative isnt better#the oppressive system in this case being ableist structures and the psychiatric system ITSELF which is a whole other layer#the moral being that even if the Doctor WAS a delusion? he'd still be a needed coping mechanism for a child who says “ppl always leave”#and instead of examining her feelings of abandonment they insist 'aLiENs DoNt ExIsT' as seen in the 'sTaRs DoNt ExIsT' psychiatrist in TBB#they don't care that she's in PAIN- why would they?- they just care that she's 'abnormal' and therefore not deserving of humanity#(eleventh) doctor is neurodivergent tag#I mean technically this is about Amy but I once (twice) used that tag on the post about the Master. its the spirit of it!#and Amy Pond + her Raggedy Doctor as “mad” people is very *chefs kiss*#((you know what im putting the tag on my last Amy post :D ))#Mels experienced this very differently and I'll make a post about her at some point- I just wanna make sure my points are got across better#sumn abt Amelia's “crazy” was Mels' “delinquency.” Amy treated as if she doesn't know her own life while Mels treated as threatening#sumn abt adultification of Black girls while Amy is infantilized#Amy Pond who could rewrite reality in a reborn universe because she grew up with a Crack in her wall that no one believed was special —#ableism#saneism#unreality#because I mean Amy's stand against psychiatric dehumanization was to REWRITE THE UNIVERSE with her Crack powers
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captainseamech · 1 year
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@biggest-ultra-mags replied to your post ““Of course it’s the biggest mechs who happen to be...”:
I’m always watching, high tide..👀
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“S.... SIR???”
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oflgtfol · 1 year
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i really hate to be rewatching this show just to compare it to s3 like truly i just want some wonder and whimsy in my life again as a break from being a hater, but still, rewatching s1 is really just reminding of WHY im disliking s3 so much
so a relatively minor thing about s3 that has nonetheless been irking me is how weird and unnatural and stilted the dialogue is. it just feels so flat and empty. and even the way pedro is voiceacting for din just makes him so monotone and flat - and im not even blaming pedro for like, bad acting or anything, im blaming the direction because the same thing is evident in the written dialogue itself, and obv pedro has been doing fine before this. but overall both the written dialogue and the voiceacting makes din just have like.. no personality whatsoever.
and then contrast it with s1. din really is generally a monotone, minimal words kinda guy, even back in the beginning, but he still had a personality despite that. its the way he said those minimal words that delivered that personality, like theres still the subtle emotion behind everything that really endears you to him and makes the monotone quality like, less of Oh No, Protag Has No Personality, and more of an actual TRAIT of his personality
just listen to this scene! he speaks pretty flatly but its more in a gruff detached way, and he still emotes underneath it which shows his impatience and resignation! he emphasizes words and changes his cadence to stress things, and just overall the way he says “you understand? great.” i dont get this feeling from anything in s3 so far its like din is just Saying Words to keep the show rolling and nothing else, no more subtle characterization and subtle emoting. Sighs
i dont know if im wording this right but just overall the line delivery is so different and so much better in s1 and i cannot believe s3 is so bad so far its got me marveling over the most basic ass shit, like full on writing essays about a random 40 second scene like this
#brot watches the mandalorian#even eps 1-3 had me ooing and awing over the fact that like din RAISES HIS VOICE! GASP#HE EMOTES !!#i think this trend thats particularly evident in s3 may have even started in s2#which is maybe why im harping on it so much more#but then again the general decline in quality started mid s2 its not contained in s3 alone#its like yes i love our monotone king but i also do love the subtle ways he emotes which is like#so important to me and really notable DUE to the fact we cannot see his face#so i have always from day 1 marveled over the subtle ways he emotes from just the way he tilts his head or the slight change in voice tone#so on and so forth#and so to remove one of those fundamental aspects is to just like. remove somethung i reallt enjoyed abour watching#about taking in all these little details and piecing them together to get a complete idea of this guy#who otherwise doesnt show much - on purpose! hes literally faceless and nameless#at this point innthe show at least#so its FUN to watch and still say I know who you are despite that#to figure out whats going on inside his head despite the fact he does everything to remain unknowable#which is why the monotone gruff thing he has going on is an actual personality trait - its all part of his standoffish thing#the stay away from me im minding my business i am serving nothing#BUT THEN YOU GET THE SUBTLE EMOTIONS DESPITE IT#the cracks in his metaphorical (and literal!) armor !! to peer behind the shield and see who he is anyway!!#SORRY. SORRY I CARE SO MUCH ABOUT DIN#head in my hands MR DJARIN ‼️‼️‼️
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i miss heavensward ;—;
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screampied · 1 month
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YOU AND YOUR BRILLIANT WRITING ARE AMAZING OMGOMG. all i’ve been thinking about is the jjk men getting their girl LMAO yk breeeeeding until actual mind break w the goal just being planting a seed in your tummy 🫠
໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ GETTING A SCREAMPIE !!!! ’﹒
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𐚁̸ sum. top jjk men and how they breed you + toji, gojo, sukuna, choso, mdni.
𐚁̸ warnings. fem! reader, brēeding kink, unprotected, size kink, oral (f), dirty talk, daddy kink, missiōnary, mating press, cowgirl / rev, mentions of pregnancy, manhandling, bum ass toji, sukuna has two cawks. an thank yewwww !!
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☆ CHOSO KAMO
probably the heaviest breeding kink known to man—he’s half curse so he’s infertile.
choso knows the inability to reproduce but he always takes it as an opportunity to stuff you full, again, and again, and again.
“o-one more,” he breathes out, his voice was so breathy, clinging onto each breath that yanks out from esophagus. drowsy eyes shut tight as he’s watching such ropes of his cum already ooze out of both holes. choso’s ears feel fuzzy—he feels fuzzy, but the only thing that was currently on his mind was his goal to make your tummy all plump and rounded. laid flat against your back, you stare as he hovers over you with a cute pout on his lips. his jaw tightens before he pulls out just to stare at the mess between your thighs. “one more, baby. ‘m still full, s—so fuckin’ full,” and he leans in for a kiss, a deep one that’s enlaced with a mixture of your saliva and his. choso’s breath is heavy, he’s heaving as his body pressed into you—thick hands reaching between your thighs just to plug his own seed back into you. “don’t waste it, okay? i saved all of it. saved it just for you, just for us...”
his voice was so tender, such smoothness lingers underneath it as your legs tightly snake around his waist. choso’s staring at you, so in love—he’s always been in love with you though. he was obsessed with you, although his new current obsession was seeing you with a swollen tummy.
again, he’s infertile—yes, but he still likes to imagine he can get his pretty girl pregnant.
oh how he just desperately yearns to gift you with a baby or two . . or three. “c-choso,” you’d mewl out, softly piercing your teeth into the inner parts of his collarbone. choso likes to pull out, pull back in, then out again. a mess, your pussy was flooded with such ropes of his hot cum that he can���t help but gaze at it with a cute sheepish grin.
in his mind he’s thinking . . ‘did i do that?’
and he did, although this time once he pulls out his now flaccid cock—he whines, lowering his head towards between your thighs to get a much closer look, a better view of the mess he was primarily responsible for. “oh no, it’s spilling out,” he says with a cute furrow tugging at his thin eyebrows. choso’s very gentle, he creates a soft strumming a thumb against your swollen clit before he surprises you with his next action. he lolls out his pink clean tongue before tasting the aftermath—tasting himself, a concoction of your slick arousal with his own bitter taste. he doesn’t mind at all, choso’s quite the freak in bed so the moment he runs his tongue against your entrance, there’s no stopping. “gotta k-keep my baby plugged in so she can give me a mini me,” he whimpers, lapping his tongue gradually against your folds—he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment at the bitter taste lingering on the flatness of his taste buds. you’re throbbing, a hand combs its way through his messy strands before you start to arch. “right?”
so cute, your heart swells up with a mush of butterflies as you feel his eyes pierce into you— as he speaks, choso’s voice briefly cracks and he continues to clean up the sloppy mess, using his same stubby thumb to plug your cunt back up with the cum that resumes to spew out gradually.
“y-yes, don’t stop, ‘cho,” you mutter out in jittery words—his tongue was so slow and precise, making sure to rummage through every part of your clit. with two fingers, he pries open your pussy more to get an entire glimpse. he feels his cock strain, wide eyes the size of saucers peer right into you before he gives your cunt a plethora of individual chaste kisses.
mwah after mwah. by this point, he’s making out with your pussy — strings of his own mess forming into a little sheeny cobweb, as well as your wet saliva that coats his lips in such a glittery color. “praise me more, p-please. wanna know how good ‘m making my princess feel.”
with a soft sadden pout, he looks up at you with glossy eyes—such wetness all over his lips before he starts to create sucks against your cunt, nibbling on it shortly afterward. you’re throbbing in his mouth and he shivers incessantly once he feels your fingers playfully massage all through his neglected scalp.
“making me feel so good, you’re doing so well baby,” you whimper out, “s-so fuckin’ good.” his tongue was quite long too—considering how he was a curse, he made sure he knew how to eat you out. choso moans, a mere gritty grunt shortly follows as he reaches a hand down to touch himself before he pauses.
“can i touch myself too? can i touch myself while i clean my pretty girl off?”
“yes baby.”
“fuck, s-say it again,” he whines, leaning right into your touch. he was like a kitten— purring at the way your fingers comb through his hair, tickling his scalp. he awaits for your answer with drowsy eyes and a pouty lip that continues to tremor. “please.”
you giggle at the way he was so in love with your voice, especially in a mere intimate moment like this. “yes baby,” you coo in a melodic tone, watching his droopy eyes shine and he pants before hesitatingly reaching a hand down to feel on his left out twitching cock. “touch yourself for me, ‘s okay,” and he whines as you softly pick up his head from between your legs by his hair—he intakes a breath, and you pull him into a deep kiss. choso whimpers, starting to stroke himself, leaky reddened tip all cold from the wafting air as you taste the mess all on his tongue. bitter yet sweet, he runs a hand on your tummy before he feels your legs wrap around his slim waist once more. once you pull away, you mutter out a soft, “you’re such a good boy for me, choso.”
“heh, i— i try to be,” he pouts, sheeny lips glossed with his own arousal and yours included. choso’s big hand rests against your tummy before he gingerly presses down on it, leaning in for another kiss. “i wanna be good for you,” he whines before leaning down again to kiss near your navel. “wanna be good for you ‘n our future baby.”
☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO
with toji— it’s evident that he’s got a major breeding kink. the thought of you walking around with a plump swelling tummy drives him crazy.
although, he’s not too keen on baring a child— he’s only more worried about the making process.
stuffing you full of velvety ropes of his hot sticky cum. his favorite part, especially whenever he’s pressed right up against you— like now, with you in nothing more than a lewd mating press position. your legs would be sprawled all up, maw dangling open and your eyes criss-crossing each other each particular second.
“shit, what a fuckin’ mess,” he grumbles, such sharp hips smack into you at full force that you can barely react in time. it’s so deep, you moan, pawing and clawing your hands at his tense back muscles. he grunts, feeling your fingertips carve into his skin, scratching his back all up. you’re decorating his back with multiple marks, marks that he loves to show off after the night ends. toji’s rhythm was simply overzealous — insanity at its finest. with a big hand, he cups your chin before giving you a wet kiss. you whine into his mouth, just a doll being rigorously pounded into the frame, mixing his saliva with yours before he pulls away. “keep moanin’ for me like that ‘n i’m really gonna get ya pregnant, girl.”
“s—so do it then, toji.” you spat, your own breaths betraying you with how quick they came and go. you felt like you were ruining a 5k marathon, such wind snatches out of your chest as he makes sure to thrust deep to where his cum that was already inside of you from before stays right in it’s place. he narrows his eyes at you before snickering, pulling you into another deep kiss.
this time, it’s more sloppier. teeth clashing, tongues tango and tangling amongst each other.
his breath was abnormally warm, you taste the lingering tang of booze on his tongue as he rocks his beefy body against yours. you’re about to break, his thrusts became so slow yet deep—the right amount to make you lose your mind.
“toji. . . ?” he sneers, using a thumb to pull your bottom lip down. dark green eyes watch as you’re right at your peak practically. your legs quiver and quaver as he’s just jackhammering his thick cock into you repeatedly in such a rude provocative way. “didn’t know we were on a first name basis, sweetheart.”
“d-daddyyy,” you mewl out, feeling his fat base just thwack against your entrance. previous strings of his own sweltering cum sticks against your skin— each time he pulls himself back to fuck back into you, it smears against your thighs and it’s such a mess. he wraps a hand around your throat, a thumb gliding down the middle part and he feels the sheer vibrations of each individual whine that departs from your mouth. “fuck, fuck, ah ah ‘m gonna cum soon, daddy.”
“bet ya fuckin’ are. ‘specially with a pussy this sloppy ‘n wet. should be ashamed of bein’ this soaked all on me,” he snarls right up against your ear— even his voice has you sopping, your cunt pulses with each word that comes from his mouth that it’s just pathetic. you were no match for his pace, his hips, even his dirty talk. your heartbeat was racing through your ears, rapidly. by now, you were just a pocket pussy—a mere fleshlight, the bed jolts and oscillates from each impactful hit that it even starts moaning itself, as if it’s competing with you. “i’ll give you twins, ‘s that what you want? or are you more of a triplets kinda gal?”
“just give me a baby, daddy.”
“just give me a baby, daddy.” he repeats your tone before cackling—so mean, he watches the pout go against your lips before he greets your wet pussy with a rough spank. you wince, the sting from the entire hit makes your cunt throb at a more quickened pace. you’re so dumb, not a single thought in the world except the fact that you’d be having more ropes of toji’s warm cum oozing out of you in just a minute. just the thought makes you salivate. “greedy . . fuckin’ . . pussy . . holdin’ . . me . . hostage,” he enunciates between each pausing thrust. you writhe underneath him before you end up finishing the same time as him—a loud ear shrilling whimper leaves your throat and he’s pouring another sweet amount of cum into you, this times it’s a lot though. he groans, canines digging into your neck softly as your legs lock around him tightly like a vice.
and as he’s still spewing out such ropes, making sure your pussy is grateful and soaks in ever single drop, he grabs your chin. “now tell me, little girl,” and he kisses you for about a millisecond before continuing his sentence with a sly grin, “are ya ready to be a single mother?”
☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN
“oh, boo. is my future queen already too full?”
such playful words, the gravelly rasp in his tone only makes you ten times more dripping wet.
with your back pressed against him—you’d be facing yourself in front a mirror, struggling to take one out of two of his thick staggering cocks. one of them was idly resting on his tummy—angry red tip, glistening with a pretty translucent color of his own fluid. “more, m-more ‘kuna.”
“when i’m in the process of breeding you, it’s 'my lord', woman.” he warns you, his lower arm out of the other three wraps around your body. his lips press up against your ear and you lean back against him— he chortles, watching your cunt slowly swallow him up again. so tight, so warm, it makes him suck his teeth in contentment at the way your body always responds to him. just a single touch from sukuna and you were on your way to the fifth climax of the night, “you got me?”
“y—yes, my lord,” you moan, feeling the fat tip of his cock ferret all throughout your gummy walls. instinctively, you compress and brace all around him. his jaw tightens, infamous fangs poking out of his lips before he resumes to guide your cute hips. your rhythm was a bit slow . . . it’s simply because he’s so fucking big, sukuna’s so beefy too. two of his extra arms spreads your legs just a bit wider and you let out a cute shriek once he successfully locates your secretive g-spot. he knows your anatomy like it was the back of his hand. you’re spasming, drool seeping from the corners of your mouth as you feel his claws gingerly scrap against your curves. “breed me, pleasepleaseplease.”
he jeers in a low tone— the fact that you’re making an entire mess on his own personal throne like this. the audacity, but maybe he’s even got a little soft spot for you.
“my obedient girl,” he words warm its way into your heart before you’re bouncing on his shaft now— your breathing becomes insignificantly heavy and you grip onto his knees before he brings another lower arm between your cunt. “hm. if i spank this disgraceful pussy will it give me a baby sooner? let’s try it.”
“s—sukunaaaa,” you’d whine out, his touch making your nipples perk up. you were so sensitive—especially after your most recent screaming orgasm that had your throat clinging onto its last and final pipes. each smack he makes against your wet cunt was so slick, saturated with your own arousal that he smears it all over folds. your swollen pussy was awaiting more satiny ropes as he’s just mindlessly pumping in and out of you. he groans, feeling a twinging burn underneath his calve as he holds you down. “don’t stop, don’t s-stop, pleaseee.”
“dumb woman, thought i told ya to not call me sukuna when ‘m inside this pussy?” and he holds your head up—with your mouth all open, eyes droopy, tips of your ears burning, you felt everything. you’re so stupid that your thighs ache, your brain short circuits, you’re almost frothing. the more his thick cock pummels into you— the more your ears fill up with straight fuzz. “i’ll let it slide just for today, you’re lucky i like you.”
his words were a mere purr to you, so seductive.
with two rough hands, he makes you grind against him instead of bouncing—purposely making sure that you feel every single inch, every entire being of his hardened cock. he pulses inside you, and you whine before slumping right against his broad lap. the ancient markings that perfectly decorate his skin graze against your back and you whimper before he starts to feel his breathing pick up. “f—fuck, bare around me like that, good girl, goooood,” and as he still has your spasming hips in place, he spanks your ass before it finally arises. sukuna shoots inside of your cunt, a hefty amount of cum that spits right inside of your folds. “. . ah,” he gasps, and for a second you could almost hear him whine. you jitter your hips forward a bit, making sure a drop doesn’t spill out before he snickers right against your ear, lifting you up from his lap to realign himself. “cute. but let’s try to make you even more full with two cocks, yeah?”
☆ GOJO SATORU
he wouldn’t even realize he has a breeding kink until he’s literally guts deep inside of you.
gojo’s a simple man, he likes to return home from a long mission + day at work to his pretty wife. correction, his pretty wife with no panties underneath. the moment he crosses your path near the kitchen, he brings you into a rough kiss, hands finding its way towards the back of your ass. he gives it a tight squeeze, leading you straight towards the bed—he doesn’t even have to say a single word either.
he’s a simple man, he knows what he wants, and he wants you.
“t-toruuu,” you’d gasp out, scratching up his back with various marks. he never minded, if anything it only turns him on. he was so deep, a feral gaze meets yours—hooded eyes and he’s breathing in and out, cloudy puffs of air ghost from his lips as his thick cock just pounds straight into you at full throttle. missionary—a simple yet straight forward position that he always loved to do whenever he was feeling lazy. especially now, your legs were cutely raised up, weight bouncing and bouncing as he briefly holds up your leg to run his tongue against your ankle. “fuck, fuck, fuckkk.”
he’s whimpering himself, white strands sticking to his forehead like hot glue before he rocks against you further—clenching his perfectly chiseled jaw as he hitched his breath. “ohhh fuck, ‘s good, ‘m gonna cum again, baby. so wet, gonna milk the shit out of me.” and his hips frantically stutter, right in front of your eyes—you squeeze him with all your might before momentarily, he dumps another sloppy load into you again. by now, you lost track—you were just stuffed, hot cum seeps and dribbles out of your swollen glistening cunt before he leans into your neck. “. . . ugh,” and he sounds like a alluring harmony, even his grunts were blissful and melodic. “not enough, still not enough for my baby.”
“so full, ‘toru,” you’d mewl out, shivering once he softly bites his pearly whites into your neck. doing so, his own muffles and a certain itch in your brain gets scratched once the crown of his dick batters strenuously against your most sweetest spot. “ohmygod right there, please.“
“y-yeah?” he swallows, and his cologne runs against your nostrils—even his loud scent had you drenched, you throb as he frowns once he suddenly feels his own seed pouring all down your thighs. he stares at it and it’s so much, with a cute attempt to fuck it back into you—his hips grind slowly against you, a soft little pout stretching against his pink lips as your legs wrap around his slim waist oh so tightly. “i missed this,” he rasps, and he starts to ram his cock into you again. it goes on for hours—with gojo satoru, stamina for him is practically non-existent. “i missed my f-favorite pussy so bad, fuckkk.”
so whiney, he couldn’t help it. your tongue lolls out and you’re sure he’s already broken you—you whine at his rhythmic speed. it’s so hypnotic, it’s so salacious. the way his hips dance against yours at such a rough pace was just purely euphoric. clammy hands of yours grab onto his bulky thighs and you you moan before you end up being too loud so he covers your hand, whispering lowly. “listen to it with me.”
so you do—you grow quiet the moment his big hand goes against your face, shielding your moans any further and the bed just squeaks in squeaks. as if your body was in sync, in harmony with his, minutes pass before he ends up cumming again. gojo’s buried all the way down to the hilt, fat balls smacking against your entrance in such a mean way before you hear the little squelches spurt right into you. it was so messy, he looks down before pressing a hand against your plump tummy. “god, you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he utters in a hoarse voice, leaning in to kiss all over your face. you’re so dizzy—your cunt was now over flooding with nothing but his thick cum. “we’re gonna have the prettiest babies, promise.”
and then he watches as you try to catch your breath, sprawled all out whilst he’s still inside of you—dick still twitching inside before he kisses the tip of your nose. “you’d be such a good mommy for me, such a good mommy for satoru fuckin’ gojo.”
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tonycries · 1 month
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Bad Boys Bring Roses - G.S.
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Synopsis. You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?
Pairing. Yakuza boss! Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, yakuza! au, fake marriage, annoyances to lovers, elders suck, mentioned k*lling (not reader or Satoru), Satoru is INSANE and SO down bad, one bed trope, praise, biting, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, flower language, kníves, bit dark, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 9.1k (whoopsies)
A/N. I just HAD to get this out of my mind like I wanna write an entire book series on this. Spent too long researching rose language as well so see if y’all catch that hehe.
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You thought the wedding invitation was a joke when it had arrived - a delicate, lacey little card that you’ve probably read over a million times by now. It had been stuffed haphazardly into your mailbox, along with a ridiculously large bouquet of purple roses. Seemingly inconspicuous when you first tore into the thick envelope, wondering which one of your friends was getting married now. 
And it was - that is, until you saw your name at the very top - right where the blushing bride’s was supposed to be. 
We hereby formally invite you to the marriage of…
What? 
No return address. No date. No groom’s name either. Only yours, written in beautiful, golden writing - inviting you to your own wedding, exactly a week from now.
You remember perfectly the way you’d flipped it over and over in your hands, the gears turning in your head as you tried to crack down on the motive behind this invitation. A threat? A joke? Texting all of your friends about what a cute prank that was - only to get a shared confused reaction, and a few “April Fool’s has already passed, y’know.”
Hell, you’d even cornered the mailman, desperate to get to the bottom of this. But that wasn’t particularly helpful when he was only able to shake his head in protest, pale as a sheet, and trembling ever-so-slightly as he sped away from you. Weird. 
Without a clue as to who sent the letter, or even a follow-up in the days after, you stuffed the invitation somewhere deep in the back of your closet and handed the bouquet to your mother. Not bothering to tell your parents where it was from - because who’d worry over a stupid prank like this? It was probably one of the kids from down the street that’d gotten their grubby lil’ hands on a printer. 
You, however, had more important things to focus on - like trying to help your father revive his failing diner. It was a family business, a quaint, hearty little shop. One that was quickly, and dangerously, losing both customers and employees with the brand new fast food place that’d popped up right across the street. 
Which is why you found yourself here - working overtime on a Saturday night, looking over the empty chairs and stacks of boxes from behind the counter. Whatever, it was only a few weeks until relocation anyway.
You heave out a sigh, eyes flitting to the clock beside you - 11:21pm.
Nine minutes more, you drum your fingers in boredom, maybe you should just close up early. Because sure as hell no one else was-
“Oh? Still open?”
“Ah- Uh, yes, welcome!” Jolting out of your reverie, you stand up ramrod straight, taking in the customer standing at the door. He wasn’t one of the regulars - no, you think you’d remember if he was. Cloudy white hair, piercing blue eyes that twinkle from above his shades, even in the dim light of the diner. He was so very tall, taking up almost all of the doorframe, only getting more and more imposing as he walks up to you in quick, long strides. Magnetizing. 
And if you dared let your eyes wonder, you caught a few tattoos peeking out from his unfairly snug button-up, clashing with its flashy blue color. Dragons? Trees? Or were they flowers - roses?
“Roses.” the man in front of you answers your unspoken question, voice so very deep, and melodic - tinged with something playful in it that you wouldn’t have expected at first glance. At your raised brow he continues with a wink, “Could tell ya were checkin’ me out, sweetheart.”
“F-forgive my rudeness, sir.” you sputter, face burning. You look away from the way his muscled ripple as he crosses his arms, immediately turning to fumble with the menus, “Please take a seat and I’ll be there with you shortly.”
You’d expected him to take up a booth, or maybe head towards one of the good tables around the corner. What you did not expect was for him to plop down on the stool right in front of you, flashing you a playful grin before humming, “S’alright, m’just waitin’ for someone.”
Oh. Well, it made sense that someone like him would be taken. Swallowing, you hand over the menu, before giving him a close-lipped smile, “A lover?”
Resting his head on his palms, not bothering to even glance at the list of dishes before him. “My fiancée.”
“Congratulations, Mr…”
“Gojo Satoru.” he tilts his head, looking way too happy with himself. “Please, call me Satoru.” 
You nod softly, picking up your pen and notepad to get this conversation over with - and maybe to also avoid his heavy stare that made something hot and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. “Right, Mr-” at his disappointed whine, “Satoru. Congratulations, must be one heck of a thing to plan.”
“Oh I’m having fun with the wedding planning.” He waves off your words with a chuckle, missing - or pointedly ignoring - the way you were waiting for his order. “How’s it going for you?”
What?
You narrow your eyes at the way Satoru was batting those long lashes up at you, deceivingly innocent and waiting for your answer. “I’m sorry- Me? Did you mean with the diner relocation plans or-”
“No no no.” he laughs, loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say at someone interrupting you if you weren’t so mesmerized by that little dimple at the corner of his grin. One that moves as he plows on, “M’asking how wedding planning is going for you, wifey~”
There’s a beat of silence. One. Two. With you gaping at the pure audacity as Satoru quiets down to little titters, seemingly studying your reaction in amusement. Which slowly, but surely, drains from his face as you grit out a sharp, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir. We’re very busy and don’t have time to entertain your pick-up lines.”
Those widened blue eyes sweep the painfully empty diner, letting out a low whisper. “I can see that.” you let out a strangled noise of embarrassment at that. “But you’re really gonna ask your husband to leave?”
Huffing in frustration, “I don’t have a husband.”
“...you do.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I don’t. And who the fuck are you to tell me I do?”
“What?!” Satoru jumps out of his seat in shock, fast enough that the stool clatters to the floor with a deafening clang! Hands slamming on the counter as he leans over it - so close that you could feel his minty breath fanning your face with each hurried, shrill word that tumbles out of his lips. “What do you mean you don’t have a- I’m gonna kill those fuckin’- After I bought Canva premium just to make that invitation? Did the flowers come at least?”
And while Satoru is panicking, words spilling out of his mouth a mile a minute - only one of those rings in your mind - invitation. 
“You.” you hiss, barely audible over meltdown in front of you. Pointing a finger accusingly, “You’re the one behind that prank with the dumbass roses.”
That seems to snap Satoru out of his dramatic monologue - and you’re glad it did. Because he looks up to meet your glare, “Hey! You didn’t like the roses?” 
And for the first time, you see Satoru more serious than he’d been ever since stepping into this diner. Eyes somewhere behind you, ablaze and almost…frightening. “Didn’t you ask him?” 
You whirl around to see your father, who’d apparently rushed downstairs at the commotion. Baseball bat to fight off the intruder hanging in midair as he stands frozen, taking in the scene before him - but more importantly, that man in front of him. “You.”
---
And, well, it’s not everyday that you’re having late night tea with your parents and one of your father’s…business associates. Even rarer when said business associate is…you gulp, praying to whoever’s above that this is all some sick dream you’ll wake up any second from. 
“So, let me get this straight…” you sigh, pinching your nose in frustration. It’s been an hour or two of trying to understand whatever this was. Giving a stern look at the two men squirming across from you in the booth. “My father was conned by one of your-” you gesture your head at Satoru, which only makes his smirk grow, “-men to take a loan from your um-”
“Family, yakuza. Anything goes.” he supplies helpfully.
You wave him off, trying as quickly as possible to brush off the ‘yakuza’ bit that makes your stomach lurch. “And now he owes you a favor of…what exactly?”
Satoru leans across the table, t-shirt opening tantalizingly. Voice dropping to an almost-pleading murmur, “Look, I just need you to pretend to be my doting, loving, charming, gorgeous-” backtracking at your withering glare, “...Anyway. I just need a fake wife for a few months, convince my family to get off my back about arranged marriage n’ carrying the Gojo legacy. Then bam! you stomp all over my heart, we divorce and I’m too heartbroken to ever get married again. Easy.” 
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
You bet Satoru’s disappointed groan echoed across all 23 words of Tokyo, because it was definitely ringing in your ears amongst whirlwind thoughts of marriage? To a yakuza? Completely, and utterly ridiculous. And from his talks of “carrying the family name” it seemed like he was some sort of future head as well. Though, he definitely wasn’t acting like it right now. 
“Alright. Plan B, then.” 
Oh? You couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t that much of a manchild as sits up from where he’d been splayed all over the table in tragedy. Lacing his fingers together before turning to your father, continuing in a more diplomatic tone, “But I want the cash you took. In full. Now. Gonna hafta disguise my best friend as my wife, n’ dresses for a six foot man aren’t cheap.”
Your mother looked like she could faint right then and there. Choking out a noise of surprise, “B-but we’ve deposited it all for the relocation- Please, can’t we pay any other-”
At the firm shake of his head, you stammer, “Now? Aren’t you some yakuza nepo baby, can’t you just ask your parents for money?”
“No.” Satoru chuckles, in a tone which told you that he probably could but might just lose his head for it. Only further supported as he muses, “Not unless I want a finger cut off for dealin’ money on the side. Seriously, sweetheart, why did you think I sent you the invitation last week?”
“Take me instead.” you father cries, trying to negotiate above Satoru’s half-joking mutters of “Ugh, I’m not into ol’ men dumb enough to sign yakuza contracts.”
It was all too much. You couldn’t take out the relocation deposit - it was a new start, possibly the only thing to save your family. Nor do you have enough in savings to pay back the loan. And if Satoru’s warning was anything to listen to, then you knew that dealing with the yakuza could be dangerous. Why you? Why you? Why you? 
“Fine.”
The moment that word leaves your lips, it’s like the whole world freezes. Everyone in the room - including yourself - unsure of whether they heard you right. “I’ll do it.” you clarify, voice hesitant but firm. Eyeing the way Satoru’s eyes begin to sparkle, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips. Raising a finger to shush your father’s protests, “But for a month, until we leave this place. After that m’going with my family and you’re never to contact us ever again. Deal?”
And oh Satoru seemed over the moon, reaching out to grasp your hand in a handshake - so warm, and softer than you’d imagined. “Swear on m’life, wifey. You can kill me if not.”
He was so intimidating - and intimidatingly exhilarating.
Only an hour more of arguing and a quick phone call later, men - yakuza, you assume - were flooding your family’s little diner. All tattooed and burly, looking somewhat comical as they carried your few packed-up suitcases outside. Well, at least they stayed for a late dinner. 
And ended up being witnesses to a very rushed, very rushed signing of marriage agreements. Evidence to really show up your alleged marriage. It barely even lasted a few minutes before, well, that was that - you were married, to the son of a yakuza head. 
You say a quick goodbye to your teary parents, soothing them with promises of “I’ll be back before you know it. One month. That’s all.” 
“And don’t worry about a thing,” Satoru sing-songs, coming up behind you. “If there’s anyone she’s safe with, it’s me.”
“You better keep your mitts off of my baby.” your father warns, raising the baseball bat still clutched in his hand menacingly. 
“I won’t lay a hand on her, father-in-law. And anyone that even thinks about it…” he cackles, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll kill.”
Prancing off to hold the door of that shiny black Mercedes parked outside open for you. “Ladies first.”
With another quick hug to your parents, you hastily make your way inside. Feeling extremely out of place amongst the overly luxurious interior in your slightly-stained work uniform. God, the covers on these cushions themselves probably cost more than your house. 
“Like the car? I can buy you one. Or four, as a wedding gift.” Satoru grins. 
Oh, right. You weren’t in here alone - you were here with your new…husband. The word felt so strange to even wrap your head around, instead you turn to meet his easy smile. Clenching your jaw as you grit out, “So how do we act m-married?”
You swear he brightens up impossibly, scooting closer to you on the seat. Heart lurching as he raises his eyes to meet yours, dizzy with the heat of his proximity, he promptly pulls out his Notes app. 
“Well, you see. I forgot to send this with the invitation so you better memorize this before we get home.” flashing you a long, long list of likes and dislikes, “Here’s my favorite color and my favorite Digimon and-”
That car ride could not have been longer. Because in addition to arguing with Satoru about who the best Digimon was, you had to fill out your own version of his overly extensive list. “So we can be foolproof.” he’d whined. And you’d been so engrossed in the process that you barely noticed the looming estate out the window.
“We’re here, young master and madam Gojo.”
It took a second to register that the driver was talking to you as well as Satoru, immediately pushing your face against the window to take in the scenic site before you. Heavy wooden doors - probably taller than an average house - opening to reveal sprawling gardens. Koi ponds and rose bushes lining a pathway that led to a traditional Japanese house - all power and glory. You half wondered whether you were still in Tokyo. 
“Home sweet home.” Satoru grunts. “Such a beautiful hell, huh?”
Your home, for the next month. At least. 
And if you had any doubt that Satoru was in fact the future yakuza head, that all went out the window at the welcome you got. Men lining the wooden hallway, bowing at the waist while your all-new husband wraps a hand around your shoulders, pointing out the various rooms and ornaments as he led you in. 
“-and this is going to be our room.” he brings you in front of a large tatami room, one the size of your entire diner. 
“Ours.” you repeat. Walking unhurriedly to the king-sized bed in the middle - the only bed. Heart pounding as you take it all in. 
“Ours.” Satoru echoes, happily. And if he was any bit as affected as you are, then he doesn’t show it, instead pulling out a blue yukata from the closet, a golden Gojo emblem stamped on the back. Made with such a pretty, delicate fabric that it made you shiver to think how much it cost. “Now, I had these made jus’ for you last week. You can give me a lil’ fashion show tomorrow, so make sure you get some rest, wifey.”
It’s only when he says the word “rest” that you realize exactly how tired you are. Your long shift and the entirety of this having your eyes feeling heavier than usual. 
“Um…” you start, risking a glance at the bed. 
Satoru jolts, “Ah- don’t worry, sweetheart. You take the bed.” beginning to saunter outside to meet his team. “Got some work, so I’ll be sleeping in my office. Dream of me~”
And, really, you almost felt bad splaying yourself out on the crisp navy sheets. Sinking into the heady smell of fabric softener, and something so so Satoru. Addictive. Like an expensive cologne that made your head spin, one that wafted through your mind as you dreamt of summer weddings, and blue, blue skies.
“Ichiji.”
“Yes, young master.”
“See to it that the madam is safe. Anyone try anything funny and you bring them back alive. I wanna be the one to play with them, okay~?”
“Of course, young master.”
---
Admittedly, you probably have the best sleep of your life at the Gojo estate- or, it would’ve been if your husband didn’t burst in every morning at 7am. Handing you a ridiculously big bouquet of white roses, straight from the garden, before dragging you outside. 
Milling about the estate, Satoru was never too far behind, chattering away. Letting you hold onto his strong arm crossing the bridges, occasionally having you show up to yakuza meetings as his plus one. Relishing in the rumors spreading all through the yakuza syndicates in Tokyo. Gojo Satoru, and the commoner wife he’d do anything for.
Weirdly enough, some strange little part of you thinks he puts in a lot more work than necessary for some pretend relationship…
“I think that stupid plan is really working, y’know.” you muse to him after a few days of this. Dipping your fingers into one of your favorite koi ponds with a nod at the figures watching you from a distance - Gojo clan elders, you assume. “Those old coots hate being within a five mile radius of me.”
Satoru huffs out a laugh, “That so? S’probably the method acting then, huh? Taking good care of me, wifey?” he wiggles his eyebrows, nudging you from where he was holding an umbrella beside you. 
Furrowing your brows mockingly, “S’funny for you to say, they don’t even look at me. But they follow me around everywhere.”
“Do they annoy you, must I do my duty as a husband and gouge their eyes out?”
He…didn’t sound like he was joking. 
Rolling your eyes, you pointedly ignoring the way your heart lurches at the word “husband.” Still so jumpy at the idea. “Speaking of, your parents give up the marriage proposals, yet?”
At this, Satoru clenches his jaw. “Still nagging, but they’re finally considering you as my actual bride rather than some hijink.” he spits out, seemingly recalling whatever conversation they’d had before. “And they want to have some family ‘dinner’, but it’s going to be awful and you don’t-”
“Let’s go.” you interrupt, nodding determinedly. “The realer this marriage seems, the faster we can divorce, no?”
He blinks at you slowly, “That’s…true. For the divorce, then?”
“For the divorce.”
And, well, that was settled - you were to meet your new in-laws. The ever-elusive heads of the Gojo clan. Also one of the most powerful yakuza in all of Japan, but, semantics really.
You spend the evening cooped up with Satoru in the library, poring over the bloody history of the yakuza - with the Gojo’s heading them all. The only time he actually leaves your side is a few hours before the dinner. 
“For you.” he’d murmured, lips ghosting your ear, slipping something cold onto your finger. You look down to see one of the most beautiful rings you’ve ever seen - gold, with delicate blue and white diamonds encrusting it, cut in the shape of roses. “Can’t be married without a wedding ring, huh? Think of it as a good luck charm for tonight.”
And with that he’s swept away in a flurry of bodyguards and ruffled men, and you’re left standing there all alone. Cheeks burning, wondering how the hell he knew your perfect fit. 
You worry longer about the dinner than you spend actually preparing for it. Though, that’s probably because of the group of stylists that come into your room to help you dress. Wordlessly fussing around you despite your weak attempts at conversation, eyes averted. Almost like they were…scared of you. 
But there wasn’t much time to think of that - not when you’re being marched off in the direction of what you remember Satoru had called the family dining room. “More like a fuckin’ meeting room for those hardasses.” he’d snarked.
The moment you step in, all eyes turn to you - the only ones you recognize being Satoru’s, who immediately stands with a smile. “Ah, wifey! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” pulling you into a tight hug. His voice drops into a low, raspy murmur in your ear, “Ya look fuckin’ gorgeous in my colors, y’know.”
Traitorously, jolts of electricity run down your spine. Especially at how fucking gorgeous he looked in traditional wear. Whispering back, “Playing up the doting husband bit, huh?”
“Only for you.”
Pulling away, you drink in his dangerously handsome state. Hair so effortlessly styled, tattoos winking at you from just above his yukata - blue, to match yours. So pretty.
Stammering out, “Corny.”
“Only for-”
“Now that the girl is finally here, may we begin with dinner?” A stained voice sounds from behind Satoru, old and tinged with a tone that years of customer service told you did not bode well. Craning your head, you look over his broad shoulders, meeting the eyes of several disapproving elders. 
Shit. Some of the most dangerous people in this country right now. 
Gathered here - for you. 
Automatically, you knew which ones were his parents - painfully upright, and hauntingly beautiful in a cold, calculated way. Sat right at the head of the long table. With a jolt, you realize that you two are seated right opposite them. 
“So.” his mother starts, as you take your seat with a bow. Satoru doesn’t waste any time on niceties, plopping down right next to you, scooting closer than necessary. “Congratulations on the…wedding, my son.”
My son. You ignore the way both parents pointedly avoided looking at you. Your husband, however, does not. “What~ Not gonna wish my dear wife as well?”
It’s a silent staredown - one that has the entire room on edge. You don’t realize that you’re clenching your fists in tension until Satoru untangles them, slipping his larger hands into yours. Gaze still alarmingly intense and locked on the other side of the table.
He wins.
“Congratulations. Let us begin now.” 
You breathe out a sigh of relief, the tension only slightly broken as butlers stream into the room, carrying decadent trays of food. Well, at least the food might make up for how appalling this dinner is going to be.
It’s only 15 minutes in that you realize how very, horribly wrong you are - because the elders of the Gojo estate really don’t hold back, do they? Thank God you memorized every part of that stupid likes and dislikes list.
Besides picking apart every aspect of your relationship that they could manage to squeeze out of you between the appetizer and the main course, the main scrutiny tonight seems to be you. But in that icy, subtle way that has Satoru’s jaw clenching tighter each second. 
Lips curling, Gojo senior eyes you over his wine glass. “So, dear,” voice dripping with underlying venom despite the pet name. “Is it true our Satoru missed an esteemed marriage meeting with the Zenin group to ambush you at some rundown old diner?”
You fight to keep the smile plastered onto your face, painful and cracking under the pressure. A hand squeezing under the table to stop Satoru from opening his mouth to retort, you answer instead, “Well, ambushed wouldn’t be the word. You could say we fell in love over the counter - at my family’s diner.”
“A waitress, she said?”
“Now we know why it was this rushed. Probably pregnant.”
“The scandal. How far the Gojo name has fallen.”
The few stifled gasps from the other end of the table are so dramatic that you could almost laugh. But you don’t. Breath hitching as Mrs. Gojo chuckles, “Marrying the daughter of a lowly diner owner? How... quaint.”
“Mother, be quiet or-”
“What?” she throws her hands in exasperation. “Can’t I say anything around here. Honestly, Satoru, I’m just trying to make conversation with your new wife.”
Before either you or Satoru can react, his father speaks up, apparently not done with the interrogation. “You understand that we’re just worried, right, dear? Especially with marrying into prestigious families, of course.” The emphasis on “prestigious” is not lost on you.” And it drives you insane. 
Steeling yourself, you train your eyes on the untouched food below you. “I understand.”
Plowing on as if trying to infuriate you, “And you understand that this position is dangerous? You’ll be targeted.”
“I understand.”
“Do you? Don’t be swept up in our Satoru’s charm and wealth, dear, my son just wants a way out of duty.” tone dripping with disdain, Satoru’s grip becoming tighter and tighter on yours. “The Gojo syndicate owns half of this city, we could bulldoze over that little diner of yours with only one phone call”
“My wife and I are leav-”
“I said I fuckin’ understand.” Your words hang in the air like a foul stench, and you raise your head to glare. If looks could kill, all the elders in this room would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on their graves already. “Neither me, nor my husband would ever let that happen because he knows a thing or two about respect, unlike you.” Lacing your fingers tighter with Satoru’s. “So shove your mighty family up your wrinkly asses. I don’t give a flying shit.” 
Eyes wide, jaws dropped, the old couple opposite you finally seems stunned into silence. And if it was any other situation you could’ve almost laughed at how similar they looked to Satoru when he found out you thought his proposal was a prank.
His father adjusts his glasses. “Perhaps that is so.”
Ah, if only the rest of the table would be quietened just as easily. 
“Not only is she a slut she’s a-”
Thud!
It all happens so fast you’re not even sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. Because in a split-second, the knife that was at your side is suddenly embedded, deep into the wooden table - barely even an inch away from the elder that had spoken up. 
“You’re lucky I’m matching with my wife n’ didn’t want to dirty this new yukata.” a voice sounds from your side. Melodic and so so eerie that you don’t realize for a second that it’s Satoru - your Satoru. 
He loops an arm under your legs as he stands up. Easily maneuvering you into a princess carry, forcing you to cling onto his robes for dear life as your feet dangle from the floor. You look up - maybe to snap at Satoru to put you down - only for the words to die in your throat at how absolutely fucking feral your husband looked. Eyes wide, aura menacing. A grin gracing his features, not the familiar one which had your heart racing, no - something so dangerous and cold. 
“Now,” he hums. Turning his back to the room, gaze still locked with the shocked heads inside, “My lovely wife and I will be retiring. Won’t you all say goodnight to your future madam?”
You don’t know what shocks you more - the way everyone in that room mumbles out a disdainful little “Goodnight, ma’am.”, or the way Satoru cackles as he carries you to your shared bedroom. Laying you gently on the mattress with a quiet, “Be right back, sweetheart.”
What the fuck happened?
He could’ve killed that man. And looked like he wanted to. 
Your brain yells at you - run away run away run away- But you weren’t…scared? In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever been less fearful in your entire life. Especially not when Satoru stumbles back into the room, clearly rushing. Something warm spreading in your chest at the trays of food in his hands.
“Dinner’s better without a bunch of fossils on my kill list.” he grins. Settling right next to you on the bed, setting out the dinner he’d brought for you. And, well, you didn’t doubt that they really were on his kill list. 
“Hey, wifey.” Satoru speaks up after a few moments of silence, satisfied with the food laid in front of you. “M’sorry for putting you through that. No more family dinners from now.”
You inch closer to lay your head on his sculpted shoulder, a hand bringing up the food to his pretty lips. He smelled so good, faintly like pine, and clouds. It made you so dizzy. “Eat, Satoru.”
That’s all which is said, because maybe that’s all that was needed. And for a second there, you almost forget that this is all pretend.
---
“Hey, uh- mister. You alright?” you call out, voice barely audible over the rain. 
The sullen figure didn’t react at first, soaked through and eyes trained on the ground. Unmoving, even when you hesitantly drew closer, umbrella quivering in your hands. 
You should turn around - walk away like everyone else on the sidewalk was doing. But no, something about the way he sat alone, stoic to the storm around him made you inch closer. “Here.” you hold out your umbrella. “S’our diner’s, but you look like you could use this more than I do.”
He jolts, as if hearing you for the first time. A flash of blue, so quick you almost think you miss it. Still not raising his head fully, the man’s snowy hair tousles as he jerkily closes around the handle. Pretty. And so so sad.
“It’ll be alright.” you nod. 
And with that, you turn, running back in the rain to the haven of the diner, where your father was waiting impatiently - he’d just bought the boxes to start packing up for relocation. Fingers still burning ever-so-slightly where his hand had brushed against yours. How strange, you wondered his name.
---
Satoru stayed true to his word over the weeks that followed. His parents seemed well and fully intent on avoiding you. And, well, other than a few disdainful remarks, the elders mostly scurried away in fear at your very sight. 
The only thing that made your skin prickle was that the housekeepers had a penchant for peeping in on the two of you. Increasingly following you - they always did, but now…honestly, it was a bit disconcerting. 
But other than that, it was almost…peaceful. You wake up every morning to a large bouquet of burgundy roses at your bedside table - and a husband. Because Satoru had taken to sleeping on the little couch at the corner of your room every night - saying something about not wanting to rouse suspicion because if he actually had a wife he’d be “taking her to bed every night”. Somehow, you didn’t doubt it. 
“Funny how it’s getting close to a month of being married, but you haven’t even kissed me yet.” you deadpan. Looking down at where he was resting his head in your lap, sprawled across the soft grass in the garden.
Something else also happened - something different.
Because Satoru was a bit touchier, a bit closer. Like right now, preening into your fingers carding through his soft hair. “Oh~? Why, wanna take me to bed, wifey?”
“You wish.”
“Maybe I do.”
Your hands still, pulse racing as your eyes bore into Satoru’s, trying to figure out what sort of bad joke this was. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning down closer - too closer. Close enough that you could count every shade of blue in his hungry gaze. But by the grace of whoever was above-
“Young master, please excuse the intrusion but you have-”
Sitting up abruptly, addressing the newcomer in a stone-cold tone. “How many fuckin’ times have I not told you to never bother me when I’m with my wife?”
The servant bows apologetically, sputtering out apologies as you move to get up. Flashing a smirk at Satoru’s dramatic pout, “I have to catch up on some reading anyway. See ya, Satoru.” 
“Noo~ my sweetheart don’t leave me~” 
You stifle a laugh at his little tantrum, so different from when he was serious. He was so….dizzying. “You’ll be okay, Satoru.” Glancing up nervously to meet the servant’s intense stare, studying the scene before him, how different his master was. “I’ll be at the library now.”
And Satoru notices - of course, he does. He sees that tiny flash of concern in your eyes. One that you might not have noticed yourself. He lowers his voice as you walk away, so you don’t hear him speaking behind you. Words dripping with a similar venom he always heard from his parents, “Now, tell me who you’re spying for. Names, first and last.” 
Satoru doesn’t join you in the library that day, the first time in weeks. And you find yourself missing him more than you should. It’s dark out by the time you’re raising your head from the books, joints aching from poring over them for hours. The house seems a lot quieter. Somewhat bigger. 
Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. 
Scratching the back of your head, you wander through the wooden hallways to your bedroom - wondering what was amiss. Your feet take you there as if on autopilot, thankful for Satoru’s meticulous tours. 
“Hey,” you smile softly at a servant making your bed, “Where are-”
Your question dies in your throat at the way she yelps at your words, hurrying down the corridor with a jerky bow. Weird. Leaving you all alone, and confused, muttering to yourself, it’s only then that you notice the flash of red by your bedside table. 
Not a bouquet. Only a single, red rose - a note tied around the stem, something you’d never gotten before. 
“The marriage proposals have been revoked, your contract is fulfilled, my ex-wife.”
Oh, reading that hurt more than it should’ve. You should be happy at being free, a few days earlier than expected at that - but it was over - just like that. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to leave him.You didn’t want to leave him.
 Were you going insane?
Clutching the flower like a lifeline, heaving out a sigh, “Maybe Satoru knows…”
“Thinking of me?”
Startled, you whirl behind to face your husband. In the dim-lighting, making out the stoney expression on his face, eyes wide and a little duller than they had been earlier today. 
“Satoru?”
His eyes light up at the mere sound of your voice - then you’re engulfed in him. Wrapping you in his arms, bowing his body into yours, so tight that it almost hurts. But you let him, fisting the fresh yukata in your hands - and that’s when you realize, he’s changed his robes since this morning. “Are you okay?” you whisper into his shoulder. Drinking in the smell of his cologne, and something faintly metallic. 
Every cell in your body is screaming at you to take the opportunity - to run away from this yakuza and his slaughter and whatever this was. But how could you? Staying rooted to the spot, not even a speck of fear.
Satoru heaves out a heavy breath, tickling the hairs at your nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. “Those nosy elders won’t be bothering you anymore, sweetheart. You’re free to go.”
A shudder runs down your spine at his words, and you didn’t want to think too hard about what they meant. Instead, you guide him to your bed - and, surprisingly, he allows you to. Letting the two of you sink into the plush mattress. With Satoru still in your arms. He repeats, “You’re free to go.”
Run away. Run away. Run away-
There it was again - that strained little manta. You stare right into his eyes, voice thick at the sinking feeling in your stomach. “My 30 days aren’t over yet.” 
“Leave. Please.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, like your hands drawing patterns down his back had broken some dam. “M’not a good man.” 
You press your lips to his forehead, searing and a desperate attempt to soothe the man. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”
“I’m yakuza, sweetheart. Doomed to follow my parents here.” he mutters, strained and voice more unsure than you’ve ever heard. And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into your skin, “I hate it here, and you should, too. All these fuckin-”
“So go with me instead.”
“What if-”
“Toru.‘ you cut off his words, slurring and spilling out of his mouth. Gently, you pry him away from his little haven, reeling back to take a good look at the face he’s been hiding for so long. Hair mussed, curtaining his whirling eyes - all disheveled and vulnerable where he was once so suave. 
Your eyes bore into his, unwavering. “It’ll be alright, Toru.”
And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. Only when his lips meet yours, soft, and so so sweet, do you realize that this is everything you ever want right now - possibly these past few weeks. “Y’can kill me if you don’ want his.” he mutters into your open mouth.  
It’s so desperate - a messy clash of teeth and saliva, Satoru was drinking you in like you were the last drop of water on Earth. He tasted so sweet, like candy almost, and the gentle caress of a lover. You were addicted like you could do this forever and ever and-
And then he’s pulling away. A disappointed little whine leaves you involuntarily as he parts, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the space between you two. Satoru’s mouth drops into a soft oh! at the noise, surging forward minutely like he was about to kiss you senseless again. Only to halt with a pained grunt, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. 
“M’sorry.” Claiming your lips once again, like a man possessed. Drinking in your breathless gasps. Like he never wanted to let go. “F-fuck, sweetheart. Y’don’t know how crazy you drive me.” he pants.
“Why did you pick me?” you blurt out, a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind every time Satoru slipped his hand in yours, introducing you as his loving wife. “Was it just the debt?”
He’s kissing your pulse now, canines hovering over the erratic little cadence. Breathing you in like you were intoxicating. “No.” he’s licking a long, languid stripe up your neck. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of skin he could reach. 
“Then why?” your words come out in almost an embarrassing plea. But by the way his breath hitches, you know that Satoru loves it. 
“Because.” he breathes, “You treated me like a human.”
He’s capturing your lips with his again, nipping at your bottom lips. You squeal as he pulls, suddenly wanting him to tease you like this everywhere. To have him absolutely ruin you like you know he could - treat you like the wife he claimed you were. 
But Satoru wasn’t done yet - far from it. He chuckles, kissing down your neck, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Remember that night? You probably don’t, was rainin’ so hard I thought I’d drown out there.” Worshiping the valley between your breasts as he hastily unbuckles your bra. “That night was when the marriage proposals had come in. They said I’d either carry the legacy or be forced to leave the family. Kicked out of my own home.” 
And you’re reeling from both his words and the way Satoru was rocking his hips into yours now, something hot, and so achingly hard pressing in the damp area between your legs. “Thought I was gonna take ‘em all out that night.”
“Take them all out?” your breath hitches.
“Every. Single. One.” Fingers dancing across the hem of your panties. “Wouldn’t have felt bad about it either.” 
Satoru’s licking down your navel now, humming in confirmation into your skin. “But then…” he groans, taking in the first fucking sinful sight of your drenched panties. So flimsy and already dripping for him - and after just a few kisses, really? You were heaven on Earth. “But then along came you. So pretty and all worried f’me. The daughter of that diner owner I’d loaned money too.”
You watch, heart racing as Satoru swallows in awe. Darkened gaze locked on the way your slick beads out of your pussy, bare thighs trying to close - give yourself some semblance of dignity. But no- how could you? When Satoru’s holding them apart.
“And then I knew…” he’s sliding his index underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertip before popping it into his mouth. Eyes fluttering shut at the taste, and you’ve never seen him look so blissful. “I just had to have you.”
Rip! 
The cold air brushes against you before you even know it - only when you feel Satoru’s hot breath against your dripping cunt does it hit - this bastard just ripped your panties off. And he was dangling it like a badge of honor, breathing in your juices so animalistically. 
Your lips wobble as he just admires your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. “Hah- please.”
“Please what?” he grins, and you can feel him licking little circles around your inner thigh. So close. “The wife of a yakuza boss has gotta know how to use her words.”
“You’re awful.”
“And yet you married me.”
With such a cute lil’ whine that makes Satoru’s cock twitch so painfully, you buck your hips closer to his hot mouth. “Wan’ your mouth on me, to eat me out. Please, Toru.”
He lets out a shuddering breath, “There’s my girl.”
You gasp when he surges forward, burying his pretty face nose-deep in your pussy. Holding your breath as he lazily licks up your folds - long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub. 
Drunk off your pussy with the way he’s so messy - seemingly unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor, ravaged clit to dipping into your sloppy hole. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You haven’t been touched this good in ages, and Satoru was well and fully intent on ruining you. 
“Shhh, don’t worry, wifey.” words muffled into your cunt, “Your husband’s gonna take care of you.” He’s throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.
“Real good care of you.” Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. Messy enough that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Roaming for that one spot he knows will have you moaning deliciously. Pressing down, hard.  “Found it. Gonna have you screamin’ my name til’ the entire estate hears.”
You tug on his hair, urging Satoru’s mouth towards your cunt - partially because you wanted him there, partially because you really needed him to shut up right now. 
And shit how could he ever say no to his pretty wife?
Satoru is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his pretty pink lips around it. Pumping his fingers in and out, hitting that little spot each and every time. Looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over and-
“Sh-shit. Toru-”
“Mmm, yes- fuck, love it when you call me that.” he groans. And oh he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you - eyes half-lidded, such a pretty blush disting his cheeks - and making out with your pussy just as much. Tilting his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Feels good? Ya like when m’ruining your pretty pussy?”
“Yes!” you squirm. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Wanted it s’bad.” 
He’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. But it wasn’t enough - it never was and fuck Satoru wanted more more more-
“Move your hips, yeah- jus’ like that.” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Letting you pull and angle him just as you please. 
“Gonna be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have. N’ anyone that says otherwise, m’gonna fuckin’ kill.” The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Make you cum harder than y’ever have. C’mon, say yes.”
And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and bullying his tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal. “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes-”
“Beg for it, beg for your husband.”
“Wanna cum- Ah! Please, wanna cum, Toru.”
One hand so messy toying with your dripping entrance - not having the patience or the sanity to even draw circles anymore. Just quick, hurried patterns to get you off. The other digging into your hips, so hard you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. Making you drag your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. Using him. 
“Hngh- Toru! Ah- fuck fuck Toru Toru T-”  You’re shaking - crying out as you cum. A guttural, strangled moan of your husband’s name. So violent, and hard that you don’t even realize at first. Just that you’re rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears.
And he doesn’t stop - not even once. If you were in any better state of mind you’d wonder whether it hurt - whether his fingers were cramping up, and his tongue was tired. If they were, he didn’t show, only letting you chase your high as roughly as you want. 
Greedily lapping up all your juices. Even when you’re blinking your vision back, chest heaving as you try to regain our breath. “S-Satoru.” you mewl, stars behind your eyes with each flick of his tongue. 
“Jus’ a bit more. Wanna taste all of you.”
You weren’t going to make it out alive.
Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation as Satoru finally rises from what you almost worried would be his favorite seat. “All done. Now, keep that pretty lil’ cunt on display f’me, my girl.”
And your cunt is clenching in- fear? Anticipation? As your husband finally unties his yukata, letting it slide off those milky, toned shoulders. And shit he was such a fucking masterpiece. The dim-lighting bouncing off every curve and dip of those carved abs. Delicate swirls of his tattoo inching from his collarbone, down, down, down, hugging Satoru in a way that made you so half-lucidly jealous. All the way till the last inky thorn meets the neat tufts of white hair peeking up from the hem of his underwear. 
“Touch me.” he groans into your ear. The words barely leave those pretty lips before your hands are everywhere. Dancing down his tattoo, groping at this pecs - too much to worship, not enough time. 
“Toru…” you trail off, hand reaching out to brush his waistband. Tugging just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, fat tip weeping down his length, already so soaked in precum. He was so intimidatingly long - longer than anyone else you’d had before. Thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. 
And he sees right through you.
“Now now, none of that.” he tuts, pushing your bare thighs as far apart as they’d go. He spreads your cunt so shamefully with his thumb. Spitting once, twice. Some of it splatter against your thigh as Satoru mixes his saliva with your slick. “Don’t worry, wifey, m’gonna make it feel good for ya.”
You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he drags his fat head down your folds. Wetting himself, all the preparation he was going to give you because fuck Satoru needed to be inside your pretty lil’ pussy right now. 
Then you feel like you’re being split apart - as if Satoru’s cock was pushing all the way to your lungs as he presses through the first ring of muscle.
“Ah! Ngh- Toru, s’too big!” you yelp, eyes locked on the way your lips were stretched so lewdly around his tip. Clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in, inch by fucking inch. No mercy. Absolutely none at all. 
And while he sounded like he was on cloud nine, you were having your head spin, torn between wanting to run away from his massive cock and just push yourself down for more more more. His lips claim yours - absolutely animalistic because God he needed to shut up your pretty whines or else Satoru was going to cum right here right now.
“Breathe, sweetheart, breath. Ngh- You can take it.” Satoru pants into your mouth, fucking into you in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to fit inside your snug cunt. Sounding like he was losing his sanity each time your heavenly walls milked him. “So fuckin’ tight. Jus’ relax f’me. Oh yeah, jus’ like that. You can take it you can-”
You gasp for air when he finally bottoms out inside you, tears streaming down your face and clawing at his back. 
Satoru only coos, letting you mark him up all you want. Pace increasing relentlessly, “Aww, my good lil’ wife. Taking me so well, huh?” Starting to rock his hips just a bit faster into yours, “Always knew y’would.” 
“Can y’feel me, right-.” Balls smacking against your ass, his finger tracing an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “-here?” Thumb stroking where he could feel himself bulging inside you, pressing down. Hard. 
You almost sob at the pressure, jolting - you should’ve expected that the yakuza boss would fuck so mean.
And shit you can just do nothing but take it, hips jerking wildly as Satoru pounds into you with reckless abandon. Clutching at his shoulders, the sheets, his hair - just anything. 
“C’mon~ Don’t run away from me,” he grunts, strained like he’s struggling to maintain restraint. Lacing his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper onto his cock. “Jus’ fuckin’ got you, so don’t you dare run away.”
You can only nod. Eyes glazed, cockdrunk and letting him thrust so sloppily. “Won’t run away Toru…” you babble, “Wan’ you to make me yours.”
“Mine? Gonna be all mine?”
“All yours, Toru.”
And maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were a mastermind - because with a choked out little moan of what sounded like your name, Satoru’s pulling you both to sit up. The gravity makes you bury his cock deeper and faster into your tight pussy.
With the new angle, your husband’s hitting all the right spots easily, almost as if he knew your body better than you did. Veins rubbing so deliciously against your walls, shifting around your hips to fuck up into that poor, abused spot. 
“Ya like this, huh?” he groans, fingers now toying with your ravaged clit. Rolling it around harshly between two fingers. “Always knew this cute pussy could take me s’well. Just didn’t know it would feel this fucking heavenly.”
Faster, sloppier. Bouncing you on his rock-hard cock  like he was claiming you from the inside. So, so desperate and debauched.
And exactly where you wanted to be. 
You leave delicate pink bites down this pale neck, alongside those roses - marking him in your own way as you edge closer and closer. It was too much. Everything was too much. 
“Toru-” you sob. And he already knew what that meant. With how your voice breaks so adorably and the way you’re clenching around him hard enough that it’s almost difficult to ruin that cute pussy. 
“Close?” 
“Mhm…”
“Well then.” thrusts getting sloppy, with no reason or rhythm now. Grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Cum f’me like a good lil’ wife, then.”
And that makes you throw your head back in ecstasy - it makes you cum. Thighs quivering, jolts of electricity running down all the way from your overstimulated cunt to your hazy mind. It has you chanting Satoru’s name like a lifeline while his teeth dig into your flesh. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood.
Letting out low, muffled moans into your neck while he cums as well. Hot ropes of seed filling up your poor, bloated pussy, painting your walls such a sinful white. Cumming and cumming so hard you wondered whether you’d make it out alive.
And because of the obscene position, you could feel the way it dribbled down your legs. Thick globs landing in a pool on the overpriced sheets below, smearing so lewdly between you two. Hips still fucking up into you - not even thinking about it as he pushes his seed deeper and deeper. 
You managed to raise your eyes, still dazed to meet his - exhausted, and dark with lust and something else that you really weren’t in the right mind to decipher right now. 
And then Satoru’s lips find yours again, biting and tugging lazily. Tasting so unfairly of candy and sweet, sweet trouble. Body melting into you like all the worries have been lifted from his shoulders. He’s looping his arms tighter around your waist, crushing you into an almost-painful hug against him. 
Something soft. Something new. Something that makes a little part of your heart twinge to break the kiss and pull away mere millimeters. “We better not divorce after this.”
“Of course not.” He chuckles into your lips, resting his forehead against yours like he was trying to map the constellations in your eyes. “I haven’t even given you my wedding gift yet.”
Smirking, you lock your legs tighter around Satoru’s toned waist as he lets the two of you fall back into the mattress. Sinking into it - and each other - with both exhaustion and something of a quiet, unspoken little fondness. Batting your lashes up at him, “Mhm, I remember someone talking about giving me four mercedes as a wedding gift and I’m leaving if not.”
“Well then, better get to it. Four for my in-laws to get on their good side, too,” he nuzzles the bite mark on your neck. “Because I plan to stay like this for a long, long time.”
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A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
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magnetoapologist · 5 months
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cacw is hilarious bc it has tony constantly saying shit that makes you go hmmm. he was like "you've been a complete idiot, dragging in clint" meanwhile he's the one who took a for real high schooler to said fight. like yeah man sure
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chuluoyi · 5 months
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the secret wife
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- nanami kento x reader
follow the first years’ misadventures as they find out that apparently, the infamous 7:3 sorcerer is also a dutiful and loving husband in private!
genre/warnings: crack, fluff, the first years are simply chaotic, an attempt at humor, gojo cameo (he’s so insufferable), mentions of pregnancy, nanami being the best husband there is
note: based on an anon's suggestion, this is a spin-off to love entries' wife (so gojo is married to love entries reader naturally!) this is full chaos and crack omg so sorry and isn't proofread bc i’m kinda tired so pls forgive any mistakes and my dry humor :')
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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On one fine, sunny day, which was supposed to be a calm and relaxing afternoon...
“Hello? Yuji—”
Megumi could've sworn, they weren't usually this nosy.
“Gojo-sensei! It's urgent!”
Call it indulgence, because Nobara's curiosity just got the better of her.
“Oh? What's—”
“Does Nanamin have a wife!?”
And Yuji... well, he just needed answers, because the three of them were now in the ‘Mom and Baby’ section of department store, having just witnessed a monumental sight of their esteemed mentor, Nanami Kento—
—with a remarkably stunning woman hanging onto his arm.
“Huh?” Gojo's confusion was evident from the other line. Oh, yeah. Yuji had decided to cut to the chase and call him too, hoping for a swift clarification.
Okay, so why were the trio—plus Gojo on the speakerphone—hiding behind a pillar just to spy on Nanami and his very possible wife? Let us rewind 30 minutes before...
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Yuji considers himself to have an exceptional eye and taste for women.
And 30 minutes ago, when he fell on his butt on the rough, hard asphalt in the jammed Shibuya crossing after accidentally getting shoved by the crowd, and encountered a kind, vivacious older woman—you, who extended a hand to help him up, he was even more convinced of that.
“Are you alright, Itadori-kun?” your soft voice entered his ears, catching him off-guard, and Yuji was certain of two things then.
One, that you were just like a literal angel descended from skies above, all dolled up and pretty with your flowy sundress.
“Ah, uh—” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere and anywhere at once as his palm started sweating after clasping your hand. “I-I am…”
And two, for the life of him, he had no idea who you were.
But it registered late in his mind to ask as he was busy controlling his ragged breathing and instant crush, and before Yuji knew it, you graced him with another kind smile and went on your way.
And did he feel so miserable afterwards.
. . .
“She’s sooo hella pretty, Fushiguro! And she knows me! Me!”
Megumi sighed, eyeing his friend in disgust. Truthfully, all he wanted was to return to the dorms and collapse onto his bed, and not listen to his friend’s incoherent ramblings.
"You sure you weren't imagining things?" Nobara questioned with slight irritation. "After you embarrassed us in front of Gojo-sensei's wife a while back, please think more before you act."
"I'm not, I swear! She said my name!"
"Itadori, can you please just not?" Megumi grumbled, having enough of this ruckus. "I want to walk back in peace."
And so tucking away his pout, Yuji walked in silence just as his best friend asked, and he was really going to leave it at that when suddenly he caught the sight of a familiar pristine coat and the sundress from earlier. “Oh?”
"Isn't that Nanami-san?" Nobara also spotted him, her eyes widening when she saw you, who was happily beaming as well as Nanami's light chuckle. "And wait, who is—?"
"That's her!" Yuji burst out, pointing decisively in your direction. "That's who I was talking about!"
Oh, no. Megumi dreaded it already. He could already see the utter catastrophe—
"I'm going after them!"
"Wait, Itadori! Me too!"
Too late. Before he could stop them, Nobara and Yuji had followed the pair. Reluctantly, Megumi trailed behind them too, albeit wearing a vexed scowl. Yet despite his misgivings, he couldn't deny that the things he saw over the next 30 minutes were genuinely unexpected.
Nanami consistently led you to a quieter spot away from the bustling crowd, his hand holding yours firmly. He would occasionally throw you a smile, or when you didn’t hold hands, then he’d wrap an arm around your waist. And to the trio's bewilderment, they also saw him tenderly brushing his lips against your head while on the escalator.
Soft and gentle. It was a side of Nanami Kento they had never witnessed—either with anyone else or even himself.
The two of you ventured through home appliances, visited food stalls, and eventually... the ‘Mom and Baby’ section.
"Do you want to rest for a bit?" Nanami's voice held a touch of concern as his hand settled on the small of your back, and seeing that, Nobara positively swooned.
"Oh, no, I'm fine," you responded with a reassuring smile. "Let's head over there. I'd like to see that next!"
Watching you and Nanami meticulously going through strollers and cribs like a pair of would-be parents was apparently too mind-blowing for Yuji and Nobara, leading to the decision to call Gojo right then and there. And, as they say, the rest was history.
"Last I heard, Nanami wasn't married," Gojo answered resolutely. "If he is, then it's the ultimate betrayal because he never told me!"
"But we see him with a woman! At mother and baby care section!"
Gojo hummed in thoughtful manner. "Okay, students. Now I'm tasking you to see this to the very end! Keep me on the line!"
With that, Operation: Uncover Nanami's Wife was officially underway, and frankly, the way the three of them were clumsily tailing the 7:3 sorcerer made Megumi want to facepalm. How was it that Nanami hadn't noticed their rather conspicuous attempts at all?
Now you were fawning over baby clothes, cutely trying not to squeal as you picked a little blue and yellow overalls. "Kento! Kento! Look, how cute!"
And all of them were floored once again when the expression on his face softened, as a warm smile adorned his lips. "Yeah, they are."
"Is she pregnant? She doesn't look it..." Nobara remarked, squinting and frowning, still watching the two of you like a hawk.
"Or maybe they're shopping for someone else?" Megumi suggested, earning teasing grins from Yuji and Nobara, to which he quickly rolled his eyes, as they chorused, "Looks like you're curious too!"
After a while, you moved from the clothes to sections stocked with mother's necessities. Yuji leaned against one of the racks, pressing his ear against it, with Nobara and Megumi crowding behind him, attempting to catch a snippet of your conversation with Nanami.
"I think we should get some heat packs and these pillows—"
"Oh, Kento! You're such a worrywart, I still won't need them for a few more months—"
"Wait, what?" Yuji whipped his head around in surprise, causing Nobara, who was leaning on him, to stumble and inadvertently collide with the racks.
"Eh? Huh!?"
Unfortunately, the racks weren't sturdy enough, and the force caused them to sway dangerously. Nobara, sensing her imminent fall, instinctively grabbed Yuji's arm to steady herself. However, he got tugged instead and their combined weight exacerbated the situation, leading to the racks quickly toppling over and a deafening commotion ensued—
Crash!
"Careful!" Nanami immediately pulled you behind him, a protective arm around your shoulder, sensing your shock from the sudden crash. He was on high alert, expecting some sort of attack of cursed spirits, but instead, he was met with the most astounding sight of the bickering culprits amidst the fallen racks.
"Kugisaki! What are you doing!"
"You dumbass! Why didn't you stop me from falling?!"
"Itadori-kun...?" Nanami called out in utter disbelief, his mind couldn't fathom as to why the first years were here. However, his attention quickly shifted to Megumi, who was seething and sending his friends a glare so hard it could drill a hole into them.
Then, the boy swiftly fixed himself into a low bow in front of him, ashamed, disregarding Yuji and Nobara's groans altogether. "Nanami-san, I'm very, very sorry on their behalf."
"What are the three of you doing here?" he inquired, and poor Megumi seemed at a loss, huffing as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start.
Meanwhile you were full of worry for the fallen kids. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"
For the second time today, you tried to help Yuji to stand on his feet, and this time, he really had a good look over you.
It wasn't exactly noticeable due to how loose your dress was, but now he could see that under it, your belly was slightly rounded—an unmistakable baby bump.
Amidst his shock and pain, Yuji couldn't bring himself to take your hand as he inadvertently let this slip, "N-Nanamin! You knocked her up!"
Nanami blinked. You gaped. Megumi and Nobara went pale in sheer horror, ready to murder their friend on the spot for his extreme height of rudeness.
“Itadori-kun,” Nanami cleared his throat then, and if he was offended, then he chose not to show it. “First of all, I’m sorry for not introducing you sooner. This is Y/N, my wife, and yes,” his tone hardened slightly, “She’s carrying our first child.”
“S-so you are married!”
“Yes, that was what I—”
“What the hell?! NANAMIIII!”
Oh, the freaking phone. After his fall, Yuji’s phone ended up on the floor, and of course, Gojo did hear all of the entire madness, evident from how his voice blared from the phone.
Nanami frowned, unwittingly reaching out towards the phone. “Who—?”
“NA-NA-MI!" Gojo screeched in righteous exasperation, and the former immediately pulled away from the phone with a cringe. “How could you?! I invited you to my wedding! Are you a hermit or something—how could not tell anyone!? Didn’t you say I can officiate—”
“I said no such thing. Please refrain from saying outrageous things, it’s both annoying and misleading,” Nanami stressed, growing more irritated by the mere sound of Gojo's whining voice and feeling his patience waning rapidly.
"Aren't we friends?! How—!"
"Should I find you instigate one more of this... shenanigans with the kids, I won't hesitate to report you to Yaga and your wife," he interjected then with clear irritation, and right that second, Gojo shut himself up.
Yuji, Nobara and Megumi couldn't help drawing that one conclusion in wonder: So, that's what Gojo-sensei is afraid of.
Nanami swiftly ended the call with a flick of his finger, returning the phone to the still mystified Yuji. Turning back to the trio, Nanami's irritation simmered as he glanced at the mess of broken goods on the floor, as well as noticing the approaching clerks.
"You three..." Nanami started, his voice rising slightly, unfaltering even as the three of them flinched. "Do you realize what you've done? Are you so idle that you can ditch your assignments?"
"Kento, don't be too harsh," you rebuked, placing a hand on his arm with a frown on your face. Nanami sighed, looking over the situation once again. It was a whole rack of baby necessities destroyed; plates, glasses, and whatnot scattered across the floor.
Nobara bit her lip in anxiety. “Oh my god, who's going to pay for all this damage?” She could already imagine the staggering amount this mess would cost. This is worth millions, anyone can go bankrupt.
There was only one person who can and will. Immediately, both Nanami and Megumi turned to her with a shared resolve.
"Gojo," Megumi blurted.
"He will be charged for everything," Nanami added with spite.
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Epilogue
"You just love those kids, don't you, Kento?"
That night, when both of you were ready for sleep, Nanami had one hand caressing your still growing belly, and you teased him with a chuckle.
"Huh?" your husband looked at you in mild confusion as he stopped stroking you. "What do you mean?"
You giggled again. "You said to put it on Gojo's name, but in the end, you were the one who covered the damages first."
Nanami huffed lightly. "That's because I can't get the kids in trouble. But mark my words, I'll make sure Gojo pays up later, by force if I need to." He made a face when he remembered just what a massive bill it was. "That's too much money to be spent carelessly. We have our child and our future to consider."
"You're always like that," you sighed fondly, taking his hand and placing it back to the swell of your belly. "Always on the first line of defense for the students." Your smile widened. "It makes me think... just how lucky our kid will be with you as their father."
"On the contrary, I'm counting my blessings that they'll have someone as soft as you for their mother," your husband retorted with a smile, kissing your temple. And your heart melted into a puddle by his affectionate gesture.
"That's too sweet... ah, yeah," suddenly, you were reminded of a critical thing. “Kento, have you ever considered telling everyone else that we're married? At least to people at school?”
Nanami always wanted privacy for safety reasons most of the time, and you understood that, but seeing that Gojo and the first years knew already, you thought it might be the best time to let everyone know.
"I honestly don’t see the need to, why?"
"People like Gojo are confused—"
Your husband rolled his eyes then. "Don’t worry, dear. People like Gojo exist to spread the word so we don't have to."
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fairy-angel222 · 1 month
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𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𐙚⋆.˚
You'd been such a bad girl for him, so bratty and rude. No punishment would be fit enough than tying your hands and legs together and making you sit on a couch near the bed.
Your eyes watery as you whimpered desperately into the pair of panties stuffed between your lips. Trying to rub your thighs together for any kind of friction to your aching clit.
Geto only smirked, tangling his fingers into Gojo's hair before lifting the moaning man to face you. Gojo's eyes filled with pleasure filled tears as they met yours.
His back arching deeply as Geto hammered roughly into his ass.
"This could've been both of you baby." Geto groaned. "Ya couldn't been getting fucked this good if you weren't such a brat." He spat.
Your pleas were muffled by the drool filled fabric, your wetness dripping lewdly onto your thighs and the chair below you. Rutting your hips back and forth in an attempt to feel something, anything, on your throbbing clit.
Gojo let out a cry, his body trembling as Geto held his back flush on his chest. His hand wrapping around the white haired man's neck with a deep grunt. "Such a good boy f' me Satoru." Gojo's eyes rolling back with a mewl. "Such a good fucking boy. Taking me so well."
You watched as Gojo neared his orgasm, Geto reaching forward to stroke at his sensitive cock. Gojo unable to help the loud moans and whimpers leaving his mouth as his pleasure doubled, body trembling as he experienced the most mind blowing orgasm.
Something that you could’ve gotten too.
"Look at her when you cum." Geto growled lowly, his own cock twitching as he whispered into Gojo's ear. Hard thrusts lewd and sloppy as he forced the white haired man to keep eye contact with you.
"Ahh- Suguruu," Gojo cried out, his abs tensing as his voice cracked, coming undone with a high pitched moan. Thick spurts of his cum spilling into the air in front of him with a shiver.
Geto hummed, spilling deep into Gojo with his eyes on you and a smirk on his face. Chuckling darkly at the pouty glare you attempted to give him. "Listen baby, if Satoru manages to fuck you properly while i fuck him, then you can cum." He suggests.
And you nodded eagerly, your pussy aching with need at the idea of getting stuffed. Gojo panted heavily, whimpering when Geto pulled out of him to go untie you. Feeling the man's cum leaking out of him and onto the sheets, some of it running messily down his thighs.
"You're so mean Sugu." you mumbled when you were untied, Geto's fingers under your chin lifting your head to look up at him. "Don't make me change my mind."
You whimpered in protest. "N-no wait! ‘M sorry, I'll be a good girl i promise."
"Good."
You quickly found yourself being shoved onto your hands and knees, Gojo fucking into you while Geto fucked into him. The dark haired man controlling the pace and rhythm with his harsh thrusts.
You and Gojo were so noisy. Your whiny moans echoing in the room as you were both fucked dumb. Gojo's cock prodding at your g spot as it pierced deep into you. His hips slamming roughly into you each time Geto mercilessly drilled into his ass. Fat cock kissing his prostate repeatedly.
You let out a loud cry, Gojo's grip on your hips tightening as a string of mewls fell past your lips. The stimulation on both ends driving him crazy as he let Geto do all the work, practically fucking him in and out of you.
"Look at you two. Two dumb little cock sluts f' me aren't ya?" Geto mused, enjoying the way you were both falling apart under him. "So fucking pretty, both of you." he groaned. Rolling his hips to hit Gojo's prostate meanly, making the man let out a broken cry. His breathing getting heavy as his legs shook under him. You clenching down on his cock so tightly not making his situation any better.
"Suguru— nngh— Satoru, s-so go-odd," you moaned, your back arching as your vision blurred, drowning out Gojo's cries and Geto's groans as your head became fuzzy. Your lips parting in a string of short screams as you got closer and closer to the edge.
"Nngh— 'm gonna cum. O-oh fuck- ahhh, 'm gonna cum," you babbled shakily.
"Ahh, me t-too— nngh." Gojo voiced, his head falling back onto Geto's shoulder while your hands went limp under you. Your cheek pressed into the sheets making him reach so much deeper. Cock grazing your g spot all the more sweeter.
"Shit— both of you are doing so well. Moaning so damn sluttily- fuck, let it out sweethearts.. that's it." Geto encouraged. Both you and Gojo shaking uncontrollably as you came. Gojo painting your walls white as you moaned, pussy squirting messily onto his cock.
"Get down on your knees f'me." Geto gritted out, you and Gojo complying despite your panting state, both of you attempting to calm the rise and fall of your chests. Kneeling next to each other on the floor for Geto to begin stroking his cock.
"My pretty little sluts," he groaned, "so fucking p-perfect." Fisting his cock till his cum coated both your pretty faces. Swallowing hard when you two took the other’s lips on your own. Sloppily swapping his cum from one mouth to another as you whimpered.
You and Gojo holding onto each other tightly as you both rutted your hips, soft moans filling the room when you took turns licking at each other’s lips. All the blood rushing right back to Geto’s cock as he watched you two make out.
“Looks like we’re far from finished huh?” A grin gracing his face when you both looked up at him through still wet lashes.
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arminsumi · 8 months
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THE HORNIEST
↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader
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Summary : Horny!Gojo needs you so bad, he's insatiable. A menace.
Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content, it's very horny lol, not proofread, c*mshots and creampies, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, implied drunk sex
Note : lmk if you want more horny gojo lol 👍 reqs open!! anyways lol the title cracks me up. he ain't the strongest he's the horniest :(
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Horny!Gojo introduces himself to you in the flirtiest way possible, cooing a sweet and drunk "Who invited the goddess?" into your ear. He's sat on the couch with you, one night at a stupid frat party. Starstruck by you. And your reciprocation made his chest feel fluttery for the first time in years. It also made his dick stand up in his pants.
Horny!Gojo leans into you for the whole night, whispering flirty things and dirty jokes into your ear like his mind is a factory pumping them out. You match his playful energy so well, he says "I think we're made for each other."
Horny!Gojo has his sharp eyes wandering to your thighs, then your shoulders, then your lips as you speak ��� and he licks his lips to wet them.
Horny!Gojo showers you in compliment after compliment, relishing in your reactions and getting greedier; he needs to get you alone. "Wanna go someplace quieter?" he has to shout over the music to ask you.
Horny!Gojo assures you with cocky confidence, "Yeah, I could make you cum. Aw, don't give me that eyeroll, it's turning me on. I know for a fucking fact I could make you cum. I could make those eyes roll back. I could make your legs shake."
Horny!Gojo squeezes your hand tightly when he leads you upstairs, and giggles with you as the two of you escape into a quiet, empty bedroom. His heart is panging so hard in his chest. His body feels electric. He's so horny it's the only thing he can focus on.
Horny!Gojo whimpers when you crash your lips into his. He starts making out wildly with you like he's a sex-deprived loser. Because he is. A sex-deprived, touch-starved college boy.
Horny!Gojo hits those deep, hard strokes with no breaks just to destroy you. He never lets up. Never stops to have a breather or lets you catch your own breath. "Working up a sweat b—abyyy? Too much dick stuffing your little cunt? Yeah? Is it too much? Too big? Too deep? Fuck, you're gonna squeeze my dick off, haha, calm down. It's just a little dirty talk."
Horny!Gojo murmurs into your ear, "All I wanna do is make you finish over and over again." desperation and conviction in his voice. He really just wanted to fuck you into bliss, have you dumb on his fat cock, have you squirming and whimpering and going feral for him.
Horny!Gojo pins you down like a beast but also pounds into you like he's the bitch in heat. "Oh my god oh my god yes yes yes fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckkkk that pussy's so fuckin' gooooodddd" he's a mess, just swearing and moaning like a broken record.
Horny!Gojo almost sobs your name into your mouth when he cums, draining every drop of cum that he's worked up for you in the past hour.
Horny!Gojo turns his creampies into whipped cream with his thrusts, smacking his hips so hard into you that you feel his balls slap against your ass. They're so heavy and full, makes you think that if you weren't on birth control you'd definitely get knocked up with just one of his fat nuts.
Horny!Gojo goes round after round, becoming a melting sweaty mess of a man and feeling his muscles tire out. He pins you to the bed with his whole weight, and gives you his all just to show off a little.
Horny!Gojo has such a strained but enthusiastic voice after fucking you into next year with his dick. "Wow... that pussy's so fucking creamy." he grins toothily. A sweat drop beads off his cheek. His bangs are stuck messily to his forehead, some brushed to the side.
Horny!Gojo is insatiable, he calls you long after the party, over and over, shows up at your door and relishes in how his horniness rubs off on you. He's always a giggly mess in bed with you.
Horny!Gojo needs you so bad some days that he comes to you straight after his workout at the gym, no shower just sweaty gym boy abs, and fucks you as a way to "push his limits" for like three hours.
Horny!Gojo needs to cum everywhere he can. It's like he has a cumshot checklist. Thighs? Yes. Tummy? Yes. Ass? Yes. Chest? Yes. Face? Yes. Pussylips? Yes. Hands? Yes. In your panties? Yes.
Horny!Gojo is so fucking cute when he kisses you after sex, nuzzling your neck like a cat and telling you how good you treat him with that five star pussy.
Horny!Gojo jerks himself alone when you can't come over :( always to you, of course. Sexts like a menace. He's a bit too good at it.
Horny!Gojo gets so pussy drunk sometimes that he begs you to become his wife. His dick feels so raw and sensitive but he keeps squeezing it into that tight hole of yours.
Horny!Gojo is obsessed with you, mind body and soul. Just the sight of you and sound of you makes his dick stand up. And then he's whisking you off your feet and frantically throwing you onto the bed, and you're giggling at your horny boyfriend— oh... when did that happen? Hm. Well now he's your boyfriend.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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saetoru · 8 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ 4:08 AM — GOJO SATORU.
contents. fluff, established relationships, sleepy n cuddly toru :(, just needed to write this to cope with the 236 manga leaks i guess. i just love him tons sobs i need him happy and loved and peaceful
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“hey,” you poke satoru’s chest, hearing a low groan rumble under your cheek, “toru?”
“hmm?” oh. he sounds a little tired—maybe you should let him sleep.
“you awake?” you ask anyway.
“am now,” he mumbles—well, he’s already awake, so you might as well indulge in it now. “need somethin’, sweetheart?”
“jus’ missed you is all,” you pout—that makes him grin despite the way he yawns, all wide and smooth even as he fights the sleep in his eyes. you feel just a bit guilty, reaching to cup his cheek and running a thumb over his eyelid carefully.
“yeah?” he chuckles quietly, “‘m right here. you still miss me?”
“yeah,” you whisper, “always miss you. even when you’re right here.”
satoru’s grinning into your cheek as he leans down and presses a wet kiss to the skin—he can’t possibly be mad that you’ve woken him so late. he can’t be mad when it’s you, and it’s him, and it’s each other.
sleep can wait, there’s always time for that later. but there’s never a moment where he wants to risk counting on later when it comes to you.
“what’d you miss about me?” he hums, nibbling on your earlobe as his head buries into your neck. you shift, letting his body tuck against yours as your arms wrap around him—he feels safe like this, somehow. infinity doesn’t make him feel nearly as secure as the way your arms do, tight and warm and made just for holding him.
“dunno,” you murmur, “everything.”
“love me that much?” he asks cheekily, “me sleeping right beside you isn’t enough?”
“no,” you huff, “you can’t pay attention to me in your sleep.”
“my needy baby,” he snickers, rubbing circles into the small of your back with his large palm. he’s warm against you—you can feel the rhythm of his heart as it beats against your body. he’s pressed so close to you, that not even air can slip through the cracks.
truthfully, you don’t know why you wake satoru. you don’t know why you can’t sleep—you just know that you need him. here. now. always. forever. more and more and more and even more.
“toru?” you ask quietly, making him hum as his eyes droop back shut slowly—he must really be tired.
you stare at him fondly, stroking his hair as he sighs happily at the feeling. and then you press a kiss to his forehead, to his cheek, to the corner of his eyes where they crinkle when he smiles, and to those lips of his that always find yours no matter how long it takes.
he always comes back to you. always. he never won’t—that much you trust.
“got somethin’ on your mind, baby?” he asks slowly, voice thick with sleep. you giggle, scratching at his scalp as he smiles lightly.
he dozing off—you watch him, hopelessly endeared.
“i love you,” you whisper, “need you to know that. love you so, so much. kay?”
he cracks an eye open—stares at you like you’re the reason his heart ever started beating, like you’re the only one that could ever command it to stop. every inch of his face is laced with love so gentle, you can see the way it makes his skin glow.
you love him. you’re sure he loves you. that’s all you need to know it’ll be fine. everything else is an afterthought—just as long as you have satoru.
“woke me just to confess your love for me?” he gasps, “you’re down bad. real, real bad. i must be a super handsome, totally awesome boyfriend. i do try,” he says cheekily.
you giggle, rolling your eyes as you pinch his cheek.
“be humble, you jerk,” you say exasperatedly.
it sounds more like you’re in love. too much fondness slipping into your voice that it might make your teeth hurt from how sweet. satoru’s always had a sweet tooth, though—he accepts your love graciously, like it’s never too much.
if fact, it might just not be enough. he needs more, more, more.
“can’t,” he says slowly, yawning again, “you waking me up just to love me is a bit ego boosting.”
“this was a mistake,” you scoff—its playful, it’s fond. it sounds like deeply falling headfirst.
“aw c’mon,” he pouts—and then he’s brushing his lips against your neck a he clings closer to you, curling into your body with his six-foot-something stature as you pull the blanket tighter around him, “love you too. what was it you said again? oh, right—so, so much.”
“good,” you hum, nodding in satisfaction. “you better.”
“i do,” he chuckles, “can i sleep now? or are we gonna start talking about all the things we love about each other? cause i can stay up to listen to that, of course.”
“go to sleep, you idiot,” you scoff.
he grins. you press one last kiss to his forehead as you count the soft breaths he takes while he falls back asleep.
you love him—it’s all you ever want to do.
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i cried while writing this and i cried thinking about the leaks and i cried while reading the leaks and i cried and cried and i’m tired of crying. gege when i catch you gege 🔫
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gojosprettyprincess · 3 months
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A/n wrote this at 5am so I apologize for any errors! <3 also it's poorly written but I hope you guys still like it.
Yk what fucking drives me crazy the most?
Sweet innocent looking men that treats you so well, I'm talking like he writes you cute poems, follows you around everywhere like a lost puppy and gets all flustered and shy when you want to go to Victoria secret to get new bras and panties but he still goes in with you anyways with his hand clinging onto your arm instead of just leaving because anything for you, the way his face melts into your hand whenever you'd cup his cheeks, looking at you with those innocent puppy dog eyes then he kisses your hand. Like he's just such a cutie you know? He'd let you do his makeup and let you baby him and feed him. Literally just anything you want he'd do it and lets you do. Whatever makes you happy.
And that same sweet innocent guy would have you against the wall, his strong arms holding you up, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he slams his hips against you, each thrust pushing you higher against the wall as he let you drop back down on his fat cock after, and he's even noisier than you are, loud whimpers and groans escaping his lips as he looks at your face, feeling satisfied and happy that his thick cock is the reason for your cute fucked out expression and sweet moans that are like music to his ears. Your nails leaving long red marks on his shoulders and back that he's sooo proud of having, he loves it when you do that, it's like a reward to him for making you feel good. His big strong arms pressing your legs back even further up as your knees raised up by your shoulders, giving him a deeper angle as his cock brushed against the right spots inside you that made you see stars to the point where you can't even think straight.
"O-oh fuck! baby, need you to cum ple-ase, fuck! please, wanna see you make a mess on my cock please I'm begging you princess", his voice cracks as he whimpers it out to you. The sweet and innocent needy tone in his voice compared to his rough pounding like he fucking hates you and had to prove it was all it took for you to cream around him, nails digging deeply into his back as he's practically making out with your neck, kissing and sucking on the tender flesh, leaving a bunch of purple and red marks that's definitely going to make him all fluttered and shy when he sees them in a few hours, remembering about what happened earlier. His eyes rolling back as he feels you coating his cock with your cum and dripping all over him.
"Ngh! Oh fuck, Tha-nk you! Thank you so much, gon-na cum!". He cries out. Your toes curling as he sped up his pace, hammering his cock in a reckless pace into your poor cunt, his thick cock head kissing your cervix with each one of his deep thrusts as he greedily chases his orgasm. He made sure to have his cock so deep inside of you to the hilt so he can fill you up full of his cum as he painted your tight walls white, thick ropes of cum spurting out of his cock, stuffing your hungry cunt full as he lets out a shaky groan while planting his face in your neck. He starts breathing heavily, panting against your neck as you felt his cock twitching inside of you. And you know what? He slowly pulls it out of you, being sooo careful that he doesn't spill any cum as he grips on your thighs even tighter before getting on his knees and eating all of his cum out of your filthy stuffed cunt like the good boy he is, after all its his mess and well, yours also but he doesn't mind! he just wants to make it easier for you to clean you know? :(
Choso, Izuku, Armin, Toge, Zentisu, Kirishima, Yuuji, Kaneki.
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atsuwumus · 4 months
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ᥫ᭡ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐒 . . .
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๋࣭⭑ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : mature content, minors dni 18+ only. sub! deepspace men, slight hair pulling, begging, bondage, teasing, blind folding. um... did I forget something??? xavier's is a little nasty eheh (≖ᴗ≖ ✿)
๋࣭⭑ 𝐌𝐀𝐈 𝐌𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 : teehee ... (๑﹏๑//) something no one asked for but I couldn't shake this from my brain. will be writing a dom version for this idea as well!! erm... not proofread so if you find a mistake no you don't
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𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 : "You know the rules. No touching."
Something vibrates from deep within Zayne's chest and it sounds far too close to a moan than anything else. This is torture, he thinks, watching through a heavy lidded gaze as you ever so slowly shed another layer of clothing. You've been subjecting him to this teasing abuse for almost half an hour now, swaying your hips to the low beat coming from his stereo, prancing around him in nothing but a pair of panties and lingerie he was just itching to rip off.
"You're quite the vixen tonight, aren't you?" he murmurs, the timbre of his voice sending ice curling through your veins, a low and pleasant sound that only beckons you closer to him until you're right in his trap. "It's enchanting. If I were any smarter I would say that you're trying to get my heart racing."
Zayne's hands are icy when he plants them on your hips, firm and demanding, pulling you down right to where he wants you. He's aching, cock straining hard against his suit pants, throbbing when you finally press down against him, your cunt quivering when you feel the familiar outline of him. A hoarse groan escapes his lips as he tilts his head back, relishing in the feeling of finally feeling you again, but his pleasure is momentarily when you push up to your toes, hovering over his lap.
He blinks your beautiful figure back into focus, opening and closing his mouth several times as he searches for something to say. You had laid the rules out for him long before this little game began and he had just broken the number one rule - no touching. He watches with a lump in his throat as you step back, light little steps all the way back to the bed, spreading yourself out among the dark satin sheets.
"Oh, Zayne.." you sigh, your voice a mixture of a dreamy sigh and something a little more sensually sinister. "I don't envy your position. Guess now you'll just have to be a good boy and stay put while I play."
His hands tighten into fists as he watches you through low lashes, how your hands skim up and down your skin that he ached to touch. Perhaps this is his punishment for making you beg for it. Time for a taste of his own medicine.
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𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 : The satin winds around his wrists in intricate lines, binding his wrists together and leaving him vulnerable in the palm of your hands. You never thought your boyfriend would agree to this, but it was surprisingly easy to get him to fall right into his trap, luring him closer and closer with the promise of pleasure.
And the sight of him wrapped up like this was one that you were determined to tuck into the cracks and corners of your mind, to remember forever.
You've made yourself comfortable on his lap, his bound hands behind your back, essentially keeping you locked in his embrace. Every now and then you can feel the gentle brush of his thumbs as they brush over your back, seeking bare skin, warmth, how you shiver with every grind over his cock. He wasn't one that ever minded messes and he wasn't about to start now, especially not with the way you were dripping over him, your folds parting a little bit each time the leaking flushed tip of his cock met your cunt.
Your forehead is pressed tightly to his, light strands of hair, slick with sweat, tickling your own but you can't find it in yourself to complain, not when it feels this good, to be pressed chest to chest. Rafayel fights to keep his eyes open, to keep his focus on your face and not the way you're making him drip. Puffs of hot air hit your face and if you focus hard enough you can hear the whines woven between them, feel how he ruts his hips up every now and then, seeking more.
"Tell me how it good it feels," you whisper, your glossy lips dragging across the heated skin of his cheek, feeling how his breath trembles and shakes. "Tell me how much you like being tied up for me."
Rafayel's spit-soaked lips part, the syllables shaking on the tip of his tongue when you press down harder against his aching cock, whimpering a weak, "I-I do-"
"Yeah?"
"Ngh- Yes. Yes, fuck, I do. I do, baby, I do so much." A high-pitched whine sneaks past his lips. "Just, please, fuck me."
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𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 : For a man who's calm, collected and never shaken by anything in battle, Xavier's breathing is shaky. His hands seek you out with desperate touches, stumbling over the sheets, fumbling with the crevices and dips of your hips until he finds your hand.
"I..." he licks his lips, pauses, and exhales a long breath. "I quite like this."
You nudge your cheek into his other awaiting hand as you bend down a little, a small smirk spreading across your face when you notice how red his cheeks have gotten. How you wished he could see how pretty he looked like this - blindfolded, on his knees in front of you, desperate to please.
You coo softly, watching as Xavier perks up when he feels the familiar warmth of your body spilling across his own when you shift closer. It's almost comical, how eager he seems, like a puppy wanting to please its master. You let your thumb run over the silk draped across his eyes, obscuring his vision, ensuring he wouldn't be able to see between the cracks before murmuring, "You're such a good boy, aren't you?"
A hum vibrates in the back of his throat and he nods, perhaps a little too eagerly. But you're not satisfied with just that, threading your fingers between the strands of light hair. Xavier makes the mistake of nudging into your touch before you tug at the strands, drawing a strained moan from his lips, the high pitched sound soon dissolving into a pathetic moan.
You glance down at his boxers, raising one of your brows at the dark stain that decorates the material, huffing out a stale chuckle. "Oh, you poor thing," faux sympathy laces your words as you speak. "Don't tell me you came from his a little bit of tugging and teasing?"
Xavier's cheeks are red, his neck flushing an even deeper color and he attempts to duck his head, yet the grip on his hair you currently have prevents him from doing so. Shamefully he rocks his hips up, seeking friction but being met with nothing. You tut before gripping the strands once more and Xavier has no choice but to follow your touch, up, up and up until his nose brushes against the inside of your thigh.
A long whine escapes him as he presses his nose against the dampness of your panties, inhaling deeply as his hands fly south to press against his boxers, squeezing his cock.
"Please," he whispers, his words muffled between your thighs. "Please let me make you feel good, please. Just one taste, I swear I'll be so good to you."
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gojoest · 2 months
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A LUCKY ONE — satoru being sickeningly in love with you, gn! reader, you're naked in bed, calls you beauty
“well, well… look what we have here”, satoru’s morning voice wafts through the air as he lifts the blanket covering the two of you up, just a tiny bit but enough to take a peek — “a naked beauty in my bed”. the view of your bare legs (one of which is thrown over his) helps the idiotic smile on his lips crack wider. his lips look a little dry, you think. you haven’t kissed them since you fell asleep last night. you should fix that, you think, because yours start to feel a bit dry too.
you slowly charge towards his face with yours until your lips meet his for a short kiss. “you’re a lucky one — because i have a naked loser in mine”, you sigh as you pull away but—
—he pulls you back,
“oh, so?”, and effortlessly drags your body on top of his, wrapping his arms around you. both of his hands resting at the small of your back. “beauty and the loser sounds like a good match, no?”
“it’s not like i have much of a choice here. the beauty is stuck with the loser, you see”, you try to slip away but no use, he’s got you good — his arms won’t budge. “see what i’m talking about?”
“so you’d choose someone else to be stuck with if given the chance?”, he gasps, then purses his lips into a pout.
“as if you’d ever give me that chance”
“absolutely never”, he squeezes you tightly — physically emphasizing what he just said — before placing a hand at the back of your neck to pull your face close and hide it in the crook of his neck. “you’re mine”
“see, do i even have a choice?”, you try to hold back your chuckle at his adorable reaction.
“no. you’re stuck with this loser right here, like it or not”, he responds. still pouting, still holding you close.
“guess i have to learn to live with that”
“good. make sure to excel at it because it’s a matter of life and death — this loser can’t live without you”
“i’ll do my best then, or it’ll weigh on my conscious”
“that’s the only reason?”, another gasp leaves his mouth.
“hmm…”, you take your time before you continue, pretending to think very hard of another reason. “maybe the fact that he’s my loser has something to do with it, but i’m not very sure — either way, he’s a lucky one i’d say”
“yea”, his cheek squishes against your head, a pout still present on his lips. “he really is a lucky one, but you — you’re a very mean one, you know? just tell me you love me already”, he whines.
“or what?”
“or we’ll stay like this in bed all day”
“okay. i don’t mind”
“oh? neither do i, to be honest”, he snorts.
after all this is much better for him.
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screampied · 1 month
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edging choso. thank you for listening 👍
꒰১ cw. fem reader, cowgirl, mdni.
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“my g—god,” choso huffs out in short breathy pants, his breathing became shallow—almost as if it came with ease, a straining exhale snatches from his throat as he leans back. you’re riding him, sensually grinding your hips against him to where his droopy eyes roll way back into the depths of his cranium. “more, more, moreee,” he pleads with crimson red lips, two big hands stuck to your waist. he was so whiney, with the way you rode him until he clung onto his final breaths—how could he not moan out a whimper or two . . ?
it’s sloppy, the way your ass moves up and down against him— he’s so thick too, such length to him that the stretch just comes so easily. callused fingertips roughly dig into your skin and his head throws back the moment his tip thrashes against your most sweetest spots. you feel it and he feels it too. “choso, how’s it feel baby? feels good?”
“uh huh, uh huh,” he’d immediately nod, half lidded eyes and he looks so cute— his entire body felt hot, he can’t help but pull you into a steamy kiss. the feeling of your warm lips mashing against his was enough to make him get off, so warm. his thighs start to pang, the undersides of them tense and he knows in the back of his mind that he’s about to dump yet another load right into you. “uh,” he whines, departing away just to see the sheeny cobweb of spit leave from your lips. choso was horrible with eye contact— he’s panting heavily before he moans out that sweet familiar, “princess ‘m gonna cummm.”
but that’s right when you amp up your speed, the piston of your hips only grow quicker— he bites his tongue, feeling a twinge of arousal brew up before he’s hitting you deep. the crownhead of his cock only tickles against your clit before right when he’s about to sink into his release,
you . . . stop.
choso inhales . . then exhales, he’s confused..
a cute perplexed expression with a pout before his eyebrows curl up. “. . wha-” he croaks and his voice cracks as you just sit there. your attention suddenly aims at coating the inner part of his chin with a plethora of sweet kisses. mwah after mwah, he moans from your touch before finishing his sentence. “why’d you stop? why—why?”
“not yet, baby.” you coo, pressing a kiss near the pierced lobe of his ear.
he frowns at that, balls deep and he was so close, so so close…
he wanted to pump you full, choso’s mouth felt dry, the inside of it felt equivalent to the sahara. he’s always had a hard time being told no and he was adorable. “n-not yet?” he repeats, soft big arms wrapping around your waist. you lean into his bare chest before giggling. you were panting yourself, heave after heave leaving your lungs as you glance into his darkened irises. “but why?”
“because,” you kiss near his neck, then his chin, then finally . . his mouth. a lewd moan escapes from his throat at your touch, he loved your kisses more than anything. his dick twitches inside of you and your tender touch only drives him more crazy. warm breath wafts against his skin and he moans again, your touch was truly his worst enemy. out of all the enemies he’s been in battle with, a simple touch or kiss from you was simply choso kamo’s weakness. “because, i want you to wait a little. is that a problem?”
“oh . . !” he cutely mutters, a sheepish smile on his lips.
he gulps, finding your sudden dominance a bit hot — dark pools of aroused eyes gaze into yours before he scoots you closer against his lap. with a low soft tone, he rasps a, “g-guess not,” and he swallows the invisible lump in his throat, feeling your pussy soak him dry. “if my love wants me to wait, i’ll w-wait.”
“you’re such a good boy, ‘cho.”
“hey, don’t call me that though. please.”
you titter, peppering a kiss towards the corner of his lips.
his mouth quivers, always so weak for any amount of kisses that you give him. he’s so grateful, the warmth that you always provide him, whether it’s being inside of you or simply sharing a sweet kiss with you, you were really his kryptonite.
“i thought you liked when i praised you?”
“i— i do,” he protests, jaw tightening as you move a bit more with him still stuffed inside of you. his cock continues to pulsate and it feels so good. but being edged felt different, something surges within him as if he was most definitely on pause mode. “it’s just . . it’s embarrassing. ‘m supposed to call you good. ‘cause y’know, you’re my good girl.”
you giggle once more, wrapping your arms around him—trying to stall as much time as you could and it was working.
“but whenever you say it, it’s just cute.”
“hmph,” he pouts, a cute tint flushing towards his cheeks before he pulls you even closer. “baby,” he questions out, snapping back to lewd reality. his head throws back as he feels the same throb stir up inside of him. a thumb strums alongside your back before he pants. “can i cum now? i waited, i just wanna fill you up— please. let me cum, okay?”
another chaste kiss goes against his lips, he whines from the contact your mouth goes against his. so sweet, you’re so close to him that you can hear him swallow and he stares at you with glossy eyes, reddened lips just shuddering from your movement.
“pretty please,” you whisper. “say that ‘n you can cum.”
“. . . babyyy,” he groans, reaching to grab onto the headboard and it’s unintentionally sexy— the way his veins on his arms pulse and bulge, a whimper drags out his throat before he finally gives in. “fuck, okay okay. fuck just, pretty please. pretty please, can i finish inside you? please.”
with the way you’re straddling him— keeping his throbbing idle cock between your gummy walls, he was about to risk it all. “okay,” you comply with a soft voice, gently stroking your thumb against his neck. “you can cum, baby. don’t waste it.”
“i won’t. promise, promise.” he purrs out, both hands going towards your bare ass. he squeezes it tightly before once you give him permission, he’s floating on cloud fucking nine. “fuh—fuckk,” he breathes, melting into a puddle once you take the time to plant a kiss near the bridge of his nose where his darkened scar remained. it shot up, arose— and it was so much. his heart pounds, a rapid heart beats through his ear before finally, he finishes.
thick velvety ropes pour right into your womb— it shoots out in such a hot way that you’re spasming, you feel each spurt and you hug him tightly. “make me feel s-so good, princess,” he pants, entirely out of breath. he’s shaking underneath you, lip quivering from the way his cum slowly but surely fills you up to the brim. your pussy’s flooded, sweltering with nothing but the hefty amounts of his cum before he bites into your neck softly. “thank you, t-thank you.”
“what for, baby?” you mutter in a hushed tone, watching as he brings his head back up to look at you with sweet droopy eyes.
choso shivers, your words only making him ten times more hard as he pulses inside of you still.
“for . . for making me a messy boy,” and he swallows, eyes closing for a brief second. “fine. fine,” and your eyebrows furrow at what he means before he whimpers into your neck, gentle breath bristling against your skin. “i . . . a-admit it, ‘m your good boy,” he moans, a hand grabbing your ass for the umpteenth time before he sheepishly huffs. “can— can we do that again though? pretty please?”
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tonycries · 2 months
Text
Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.
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Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.
Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing. 
Word count. 9.0k
A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.
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Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.
With a capital h. 
Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.
Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly. 
The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air. 
Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.
Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome. 
What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.
Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?
Alas, the universe isn’t on your side, and you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real? 
You double check the address you’ve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that won’t make your head spin before reaching for the door again.
But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesn’t do much to hide that godly physique. 
“Not that m’complaining, but who’re you and why’re ya in my house?” you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable. 
“Choso,” he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot. 
You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where you’d heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, you’d know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks. 
Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. “Not surprised you haven’t seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.” he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t place. “M’babysitting your brother for tonight.”
You almost don’t hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo? 
In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, you’d only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didn’t know what exactly you’d anticipated. You just didn’t expect him to be so…hot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.
God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol. 
“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Everything alright there?” he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.
You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. “Mhm, perfect.” Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.
Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, “Well, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jus’ know I’m always down to-” 
And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - that’s when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots you’ve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.
Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine. 
And then it’s all black. 
To match his eyes.
---
The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though you’ve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact. 
Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers of…your bed…that you’ve been tucked into? 
Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment. 
Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 
And just as you’re entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he must’ve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that. 
With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.
And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“G’morning,” he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. “Feeling any better?”
You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.”
Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. “It was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, c’mon, your brother and I are making pancakes.” 
You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it. 
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to... y’know, act like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time-” 
“It’s al-”
 “I swear I’ve seen ankles-”
A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. “S’alright, sweetheart. I didn’t mind.” 
And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didn’t trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about. 
Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, “Besides, it was kinda cute.”
And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadn’t uttered words that sent your mind reeling. 
As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Choso’s warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.
You just didn’t realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso. 
It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever he’s scheduled to babysit.
You’ve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brother’s hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye. 
Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve. 
At this point, Choso’s at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brother…and sometimes Yuji, but semantics.
“Semantics” are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-
Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as you’ve said - semantics.
Yet, sometimes you even think there’s a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.
Nahhh. 
Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.
Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.
And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again. 
His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.
Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.
So he does have nipple piercings.
God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.
As you approach, Choso’s grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.
The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through. 
Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.
“Shoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, y’know.” you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.
Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. “Maybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,” 
You scoff, “Maybe you should stop being a distraction then.”
His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, “S’not my fault you’re so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.”
“Oh, it’s on now.”
“Well, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,” Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.
Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.
---
Now, Choso knows you’re hot - always has.
Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yuji’s dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him. 
But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.
Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring “Beg for mercy and I’ll let you off easy, Choso.”
“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”
Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, “Then, better run for your life.”
Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that- 
A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesn’t even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as he’s drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.
Too focused on trying not to make it obvious he’s mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogether…
Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory. 
Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that he’s not just screwed, he’s absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.
So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.
Like, right now.
Shit. 
With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso can’t help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.
And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least he’ll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.
With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you. 
Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.
With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasn’t as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He can’t help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock. 
Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. “Shit.” he breathes, “J-jus’ like that, sweetheart.” 
Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-
He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock? 
One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lil’ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well. 
Or maybe…
Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins. 
Maybe you’d be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, you’d probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, “Now now, baby. If you don’t act like a good boy then you won’t get to cum~”
“Sh-shit, hah-” Choso thinks he’s going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him. 
All for him. 
It’s too much. 
“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. “More. Need m-more, sweetheart.” 
Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Choso’s thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon. 
Choso’s heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows he’d be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind. 
Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows you’d do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand. 
Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you won’t call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows he’s fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.
But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. He’d kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.
Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could. 
“Cum f’me, baby.” you’d mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. “Mm, fill me up with your cum, wan’ taste you, baby-”
“Fuck,” he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.”
You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isn’t making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him. 
You. 
And then he’s cumming. 
A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and he’s spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-
You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.
You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what he’d been doing on this suspiciously long “bathroom break”.
Shit.
Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.
But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him. 
Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldn’t have to-
God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow. 
Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course. 
Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.
Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved. 
Either way, what you’d expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.
Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.
At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.
Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.
And you didn’t mind?
In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-
Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?
You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-
Click!
You’re sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.
---
You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldn’t decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies
And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldn’t help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.
But if there’s anything you’ve learned about Choso - it’s that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.
You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew he’d be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew he’d have more very fun bathroom breaks.
Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt. 
Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time. 
It’s only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.
“The big guns” being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R. 
It wasn’t too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.
You just didn’t think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of “Netflix no chill. Haha jk…unless?” But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?
And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yuji’s place, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right? 
It’s a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.
Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you weren’t lying about the movie being rated R.
Now, Choso certainly didn’t come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasn’t expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.
Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.
Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.
Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.
This was absolute torture. 
“God, this is so painfully fake. Don’t you think so?” your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.
His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. “Oh, yeah.” voice rough with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve seen better performances in middle school plays.”
You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. “I mean, who even writes this stuff?” you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. “It’s like they’ve never actually had sex before.”
Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success. 
“Yeah, exactly,” he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.
You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him. 
A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. 
“Choso, just a thought.” you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. “Wanna recreate the scene better?”
His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.
You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. “Absolutely.”
It was like something snapped.
Because then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. Because goddammit you haven’t spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.
Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.
He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didn’t have enough time. And he probably didn’t. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.
Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.
You minx.
Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one he’s shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.
God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.
Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.
“Kiss me, you fool.”
And, well, Choso didn’t have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.
With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing. 
You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. “Choso- bed.” you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. “Now.”
Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, “Honestly, sweetheart. I don’t even hah- know if we’ll make it there.” Mumbling against your lips, “Would you kill me if I take you right here right now?”
“I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking do something.” you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.
Choso doesn’t pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he teleported there.
Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Choso’s snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting. 
“Always wanted to do this.” you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue. 
“Oh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- f’my piercings, sweetheart.” Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that. 
Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-
Oh god, if you had to describe Choso’s face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.
Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.
You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Choso’s eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers “Guess you were expecting this, huh?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. 
Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, y’know,” you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously. 
And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. “Now, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?” 
You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. “Wha- that doesn’t matter. I was drunk and-”
Smack!
The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.
“What was it, sweetheart?”
You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. “I- it’s stupid. I was gonna say that I’m down to sit on your face, baby.”
“Thought so,” he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions. 
God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, “Now, sit on m’face.”
And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Choso’s pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples. 
Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping. 
Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.
Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing. 
“Luckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on m’face ever since I saw you.” sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips. 
He barely even gets the words out before he’s surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.
Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face. 
He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. “Hngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-”
Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him “baby”. It’s as if every wet dream he’s ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-
His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.
“Oh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. S’good.” your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue. 
Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. “Ah! Right there - jus’ like that!”
As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost don’t notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.
Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water. 
Oh, how you’d kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.
So you do. 
Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide. 
“Shit,” you whisper, voice strained with need. 
You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you. 
And that’s probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue. 
“Oh?” he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. “Didn’t think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gon’ make me cum, hm?”
Now, you’ve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Choso’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs. 
You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could. 
Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. You’re really a dream come to life. 
A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.
He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl. 
Popping off with a lewd squelch, “Feels good, baby?”
“Feels perfect.”
But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.
Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.
Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.
Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-
Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.
Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips. 
Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.
So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same. 
Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat. 
Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later. 
Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face. 
You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt. 
“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.
And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well. 
“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him. 
Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more. 
You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty. 
And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.
The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.
“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”
A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”
Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.
Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.
You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock. 
And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass. 
“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them. 
Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?
“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.
And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”
The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”
His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?
“Wha-”
And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.
Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.
Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him. 
But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.
There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.
Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason. 
“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.
“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”
You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.
And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. 
Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more. 
Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him,  “More? My sweetheart wants more?”
And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get. 
“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.
And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.
Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”
“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.
“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”
You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”
You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”
“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.
And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.
Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”
“I know.”
“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”
“Choso, just kiss me.”
And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you. 
And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut. 
White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.
It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want. 
As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully. 
A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.
In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.
Too afraid to break you.
To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.
And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.
“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually. 
“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves. 
Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”
“Nope.”
Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed. 
“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.” 
Except maybe those. 
You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.
Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.
“Well, we still have time so how about-”
A distant click!
“Honey, we’re home~!”
Shit.
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A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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