#one without blindfold and the big one

[merculuros]

my children

i swear i am not obsessed with th- [GUNSHOT]

[toxintouch]

Kinktober speedrun time! Used the Mirror prompt on this list. Thank you for the inspo! Further details below the cut so that the above the cut stays safe for anyone who is just scrolling through!

18+ Content MDNI || Dom!Reader x Leander

PROMPT/KINK(S): Dom!Reader, Mirror Use. Edging/Orgasm Denial + Light Degradation & Name calling (Leander being referred to as a dog but he’s really into it, promise) + Power Exchange & Sub/Dom Dynamics

OTHER INFO: Leander has a dick, anatomy of Reader/POV Character remains unspecified; "they" pronouns used.

Leander has the straight backed posture of a man who was given etiquette lessons.  His mannerisms speak of wealth and class, yet they can’t help but observe that he looks completely comfortable while down on his knees.

His back muscles flex as he works himself, sweat slipping down his spine, pooling in the dimples just above his ass.  He’s strung tight, the veins in his arms straining as he strokes a quick, even rhythm.  His dick is flushed a painful red, copious amounts of pre-cum dripping down his wrist and splattering onto his thick thighs, some of it even dirtying the floor below when his strokes become too enthusiastic.

(They wonder how best to make him clean it later–he does so love to be ordered to lick up his own mess–but this floor is probably just as filthy as anywhere else in the Wick, despite appearances–and they don’t think they can find it in themself to make use of his mouth again after watching that.)

The full length mirror hanging in front of Leander is a new addition to the room. Something they’d wheedled out of him with nothing but an easy promise, whispered into his ear down at the bar.  It was theirs not a full day later: a polished brass antique with a priceless clear finish.

His back is to them, but they can see everything they need to by gazing at his reflection.

His strokes stutter, faltering, and they watch as his abdominals jump rapidly. His hand makes a few more shaky attempts before he stops himself with a shudder, breathing hard and squeezing his cock at the base to cut off his own orgasm. They give a little hum of approval, waiting.

“Count.”  They prompt, when he fails to remember on his own.  

They watch his throat bob with effort as he swallows, his jaw trembling around his answer.  “Five.”

“Good boy,” they say, their voice flat and unrewarding.  Dismissive. "Guess that Hightown education really paid off for you, huh?" He whines at that, his palms slicking along his thighs, awaiting their instruction.  He glances at them in the mirror, eyes hopeful. “Again,” they prompt, “and keep your eyes on yourself until I tell you.  During, too. You were closing them a lot. It's just you and the mirror until you've earned otherwise.”

Bites his lip, beginning to stroke himself again.

The next edge comes more quickly.

His eyebrows draw up, mouth falling open, back arching.  His cock jumps and this time he falls back onto his hands to keep from giving into temptation.  His eyes travel the length of the mirror, his neck taught with tension as he pants.  They notice his gaze darting along their form for a moment, greedily stealing along their silhouette in the looking glass. A quick glance of the place where their legs are splayed open as they lounge on the bed behind him, toying with themself idly.

He’s back to form so seamlessly, he probably thinks they didn’t even notice. The next number falls out of his mouth without prompting, as if to cover for his earlier sleight.

"..."

“Baby,” he whines, fidgeting without further instruction. His fingers return to his dick when they don't reply, ghosting over his wet, swollen cockhead.  He knows they hate the way that epithet sounds in his voice, the condescending lilt he manages to wrap around the syllables. “Sweetheart. Please, may I–”

“Bad dog,” they admonish.  They don't elaborate–let him figure out for himself which breach of protocol they're scolding him for.

“Again. And if you can’t behave, I’ll have to put you outside.”

18+ Master List | SFW Master List ✦Kinktober Speedrun on Ao3

Consider: this type of power play with yandere!Leander...you watching him when he's usually the one watching you...

[6toru]

𝑾𝑯𝒀 𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑨 𝑻𝑶𝒀 𝑾𝑯𝑬𝑵 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑽𝑬 𝑴𝑬? — gojo satoru.

imagine gojo fucking you with the dildo you bought to prepare yourself for his big dick 🧎‍♀️

cw. 18+ content mdni, dildo fucking & explicit language | wc. 2.2k

author's note. another one of my works from my previous blog ! happy reading <3

The first time you stumbled across 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 freshly out of the shower, all naked and bare, the first thing your eyes caught sight of was that obscene baguette of a cock hanging between his legs. By then, you were convinced that he wasn't going to fit – at least, not easily. Your thesis was later proven to be correct when you had your first time with the ivory-haired male; tears immediately welling up in your eyes as you cried out in sheer pain. Of course, your boyfriend stopped his actions, making it his top priority to ensure your comfort and wellbeing. Since then, he didn't make any more advances – offering only his mouth and fingers for your pleasure, despite your many pleas telling him that you're ready.

It had been nearly a month now, and you had finally taken matters into your own hands. After all, desperate times called for desperate measures. While Satoru was off on a mission, you stared intently at the laptop screen, scrolling through the myriad of sex toys that are put on sale. What better way is there to stop your lovely boyfriend from holding himself back any longer than to buy a dildo to prepare yourself for him? Undeniably the mere image of his twitching cock being held down by the confines of his boxers and trousers made your mouth water. Eventually, after a couple minutes, you click on checkout.

It’s the next day, and your boyfriend is still away for a mission, and you find yourself staring at the box sitting in front of your door in surprise — honestly, you had expected it to come in a week. But then again, you’re back to business. Rushing back inside your abode, you plop the box down onto the kitchen table, tearing the cardboard with a scissor in nimble movements. Lo and behold, the extra large rainbow dildo rests upon the palms of your hands.

Blushing, you stare down at the lewd toy and you gulp.

You plop yourself back onto the comfort of your soft mattress; the freshly washed dildo and the small bottle of lube splayed out across the bed. at this point, you were already bare – your bra being the only garment left on your body. Leaning back on the mattress, your back makes contact with the soft and gentle plush of your pillow. You stretch your legs wide open and lick a thin stripe of saliva against your finger, rubbing it against your folds. A hitched breath escapes from your lips as you align the tip of the dildo with your aching hole. God, you desperately wish it's your boyfriend instead.

All you can think about is Satoru; his body above yours, his eyes staring lovingly into yours as his soft lips graze against your own. You shut your eyes closed, softly biting onto your lip as you press the large tip against your entrance —

“Guess who’s home~” The door suddenly opens and in barges your boyfriend, and as if the angels had sent him a message because of how much you have missed him, he finally returns from his week long mission. However within seconds, you both jumped in surprise — despite wearing his blindfold, you could tell by the way his mouth was agape that his eyes were ogling at the sight of a dildo pressed against your slick cunt. “Rainbow?”

As an immediate response, you cross your legs together and tossed the toy to the side; feeling an intense wave of embarrassment wash over your whole entire body. You want to evaporate, you really do. Your face feels undeniably warm, looking at your boyfriend bashfully. “Welcome home, ‘Toru.”

Without any words, Satoru makes long strides to the bed and he presses his lips onto yours, almost greedily; his fingers trails to the back of your head, cupping it as he kisses you deeper. Shortly after, he pulls away from your lips, leaving a thin string of saliva connecting your lips together. you can only look at him, both aroused and embarrassed.

“Were you planning on surprising me with this, my love?” Your boyfriend questions you, tearing the black fabric off his face; revealing his cerulean eyes blown out in arousal. You can barely utter a response, the embarrassment is simply too much for you to bear.

“Can't say that i'm too happy about this, though. Seein' you use a plastic dick instead of my own is making me a lil' jealous, y'know?”

You press a soft kiss against his cheek, looking at the male bashfully, “I'm sorry baby, i just wanted to prepare myself so I can take you better. That’s all.”

As if your words have ignited some sort of flame within him, all signs of fatigue from his mission has evaporated and he pulls you in for another heated kiss. “You’re so fuckin’ cute,” he says in between kisses, “you know that?”

You’re unable to reply, your brain already feeling mushed from the way his lips mold so nicely against yours and his hands brushing against your thighs. You can only hum against his lips, though you’re barely keeping track of what he’s saying. But when you see his hand travel towards the toy, you felt your cheeks heat up even more when he decides to lube it once more upon inspecting it.

“Out of everything, why rainbow?”

“it’s the closest thing to your size,” you reply, your voice soft yet it’s dripping in arousal. “I didn’t want you to keep holding back for my sake.”

Satoru glanced down at the toy and right back at you, grinning cockily. “Cute. I hope you know that this is still pretty small compared to my dick.”

he leans to your ear, playfully slapping the toy against your pussy. “Say, baby. Do you mind if I help you prepare?”

Fuck. How can you say no to that? You nod your head eagerly towards your boyfriend, unable to control your desperation and arousal. Your gaze trails down towards Satoru’s trousers and you could immediately feel your mouth water — the sight of his fat cock restrained by the confines of the tight fabric is a sight you’ve definitely missed seeing.

You softly gasp at the sudden, cool sensation of the lube being sprayed onto your folds and then your eyes rolling back shortly after when he sticks his long and thick finger inside your heat — effortlessly kissing your g-spot with the tips of his thick fingers before pulling away, eliciting a small whine from you.

“you’re already squeezing so tightly around my finger,” Satoru comments, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “How are you going to take this dildo, let alone my dick, inside you?”

“I…” you try to find the words to speak, but a shocked squeak merely escaped your throat when he squirted a little bit of lube onto your juicy cunt; the cool liquid making your body jump slightly. Satoru chuckles softly at your reaction, leaning into your face to press a chaste kiss on your lips. “Sorry, hehe, you’re too cute I couldn’t help myself.”

He slides the tip of the dildo along your folds; starting from your clit to down your hole, pushing the tip ever so slightly to elicit a reaction out of you. You shiver slightly at the sensation, thrusting your hips softly against the plastic toy. There's no denying that you feel embarrassment washing over your entire being, yet there's also something awfully arousing about being at his complete submission.

“Try to relax yourself, 'kay baby?” You can hear Satoru's low voice ringing in your ears, dripping in complete arousal. You hum in response, eagerly nodding your head as you await his actions with your lips bitten in anticipation.

“Imagine that it’s my cock fucking you,” satoru says, chuckling deeply, “nice and deep.”

The moment he inserts the tip inside you, your toes immediately curl — your arms scrambling to find solace in his broad and brawny shoulders; your body writhing beneath his as he pushes the toy even deeper, deliciously stretching your velvety walls with his slow movements.

“Shit,” The ivory-haired male lets out a needy groan, his cerulean gaze locked onto your pussy; taking in the pornographic sight of your folds sucking the toy back in each time he pulls away — he’s unable to look away; he wants to see more.

“Baby, you think you take it even deeper?”

The sultry tone in Satoru’s voice sends immediate shocks of arousal straight to your heat, arching your back in delight when he presses his palm against the end of the dildo — pushing it deeper. He grins almost maniacally, relishing in the way you whimper so desperately for him; begging him to use his dick in lieu of a plastic toy.

“S-Satoru… please — I wan’ your cock so badly… Mmh—Oh!”

A loud mewl rips from your throat, your eyes widening as he slams the toy all the way; the head of the rainbow plastic cock planting a kiss on your cervix. You dig your nails deeper into his skin, your lips latching onto his shoulder to mask the desperate moans that threaten to escape your lips. Satoru licks his lips, his jaw clenching at your cute reactions.

He’s tempted, and that's an understatement — he's beyond horny and desperate, yet there's an inkling of curiosity egging him on; wanting to see how you'd react if it was his fat cock instead. He brushes a finger on your face, bringing a strand of hair behind your ear; leaving whispers of praise. After all, you’re taking the dildo so fucking well. He watches, amused, as he pulls the toy back – his eyes glued onto your slick juices coating the ridges before he slams in back inside, laughing almost sadistically when you let out a cry.

It isn't long before he increases his speed, his lips whispering sweet nothings in your ears as he relentlessly fucks the dildo inside your wall, and t's taking everything within him to ignore the ache dwelling in his pants – twitching within the confines of his boxers as he continues to pleasure you.

"F-fuck! 'Toru–mm! Please, baby, I-I'm so fuckin' close please I want your dick so badly – I p-promise i can take it now – Ah!"

Jaws slacked and eyes blown out in lust, he stares keenly at the juices trickling down your gaping hole; your thighs trembling and jumping each and every time he slams the rainbow toy inside you.

"Is that right?" Satoru grunts, licking his lips. He increases the fervour with his thrusts, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he imagines that it's his own cock going in and out of you.

"You're doing so fuckin' good, baby – takin' that toy like a fuckin' champ, yeah? I'll give you my dick right after this. You just have to cum good for me, 'kay?"

His groans comes in tandem with your lewd moans as nears you to your release. He truly revels the way your hips rock frantically against his hands, moaning desperately against his shoulder before you tense on the spot – your juices spraying all over his hand, dampening the bedsheets and a loud cry of his name leaves your trembling lips.

"Mmm... shit." Satoru sighs, staring down at you as he unbuckles his belt with ease, and your eyes snap over to his boxers; your mouth instantly watering at the sight of the humongous bulge as well as the pre-cum that dampened the grey fabric. A delicious sight. He slips out of the garment, almost teasingly and he laughs at the wanton look plastered across your face.

In languid movements, he rubs his giant dick in front of you; relishing in the sight of desperation that is plastered across your face while he teases you. "You've been so hungry for my cock, yeah? You're such a dirty, dirty girl."

"Please, 'Toru." you whimper, you can feel the tears of frustration slowly building up in your eyes. God, you want him so bad. Eventually, he returns to you; reconnecting his lips with yours in an arduous kiss. He leans you back to the mattress, his lips never once leaving yours as he unclasps your bra with one hand in ease. You gasp when you feel his hands immediately grasping at your soft mounds; his fingers rubbing, pulling and twisting at the erect buds.

When you pull away, a thin string of saliva is what was left that connected your lips together and you stare longingly at him through bated breaths — your breathing has gone even faster; your heart pounding against your chest as you watch Satoru align his cock to your needy cunt. It's going to happen now, you thought to yourself, biting your lips.

"Hey, baby. you think you can cum like that again?" He asks as he rubs his fat cock against your drenched folds, eliciting a sweet and needy moan from your lips.

Satoru has long lost his grasp on the remaining control he had on himself. There's a carnal look in his eyes, yet it only makes you all the more excited.

"I want you to cum like that on my dick this time, baby. You think you can give it to me?"

© 6TORU — do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[eraserbread]

satoru lovesss his foreign!gf so much it's almost... overstimulating

it’s been two weeks since you’ve seen satoru.

two weeks of good morning and sleep well text threads, two weeks without hearing his thick accent spell out renditions of your name. he calls you whatever he wants now, and you’ve grown to love him.

he shrugged off on some work mission and left you with a kiss on the forehead. you were pissed and confused because you swore he said a few days, not a few weeks. the fucker does this on purpose -- he knows that you yearn for his stupidly comforting presence, now.

who's gonna be there to hold your hand through street festivals, pointing out everything in a way you can understand? who's gonna spell out syllables in your favorite mangas so you can experience it the way he does?

you've let satoru take you on as a dependant. so, that's your excuse for never leaving your house in these weeks, except to work.

when he finally comes home, its with a thick, heavy bang on your door.

you're dead asleep in the back bedroom, hugging your thick pillow to your chest. alternatively, your phone is screaming with lock notifications, warning you that there's someone there. it takes you a solid ten minutes to come to from the sensory overload. and when you finally sit up in bed, you're so high off of sleep that you don't even recognize what you're hearing.

bang, bang, BANG.

then, you snatch up your phone and peek open an eye.

from: satoru! home tonight! (ᵔᗜᵔ) around 10! will let you know when my train stops train is stopping! running home to you i know you are probably asleep (ᵕ•_•) just didn't want to wait until tomorrow to see you *3 missed calls* from: satoru! if you didn't want to see me... ᴖ̈ you could've just said

it takes you a solid five minutes to absorb the onslaught. then, it dawns on you -- he's here.

satoru is fucking at your door.

you don't think you ever moved so quickly, tossing on a robe and running a hand through your hair. you stop for a second, cupping one over your nose and mouth to assess your sleep breath.

it's actually not too bad, and you doubt satoru would care much. so you spray a mist of perfume on your neck and head to open the door.

you're smling even before his big, lanky body comes into view. he's wearing that same, mysterious uniform, blindfold pushing his hair back on his scalp. it's been ten minutes since he arrived, and even the strongest get weary. two more minutes, and he would've been out of there.

"satoru," you smile, breathless by the look in his eye. he's leaning against the doorframe, his head tucked to compensate for his height. smiling when he sees you again, he turns around to wrap his arms around your waist.

"you were avoiding me?" he teases in your native tongue, lips crossing over yours as he speaks slowly. you shake your head, hands crawling from his shoulders, to the back of his neck.

"you were annoying me," you counter, a similarly mischievous look in your eye. he gasps, then leans to kiss you. it's stupid, but the smile on your face is huge, and you're so happy to see him again. "six texts and three missed calls? so needy."

"ah, you missed me." he's smug, gentle but fearless as he pushes you to the side, reveling in the familiar taste of the air around you. he can smell the promise of food you prepared earlier. he hopes it's something he's never had before, he loves being your taste-tester.

"well, i missed you and your fridge soo much." he's hardly regarding you as you push and lock the door. he's headfirst inside the cool expanse when you turn around, giving him a sideways glance.

of course, your food is his first order of business after being gone for weeks. never mind you, the girl who made the food, to get a fleeting shred of his godly attention. your japanese has been so rusty without him, but you know how much he loves hearing your broken syllables scold him in a way he knew like the back of his hand.

"you haven't eaten in three weeks?"

"two." he emerges with a flushed face and a slice of cheese between his teeth. "what's this?"

"macaroni and cheese."

"woooow, it looks like brick." satoru stands up with the pan in his hands, tossing the top across your counter before reaching in with his bare hands. "this is a weapon, baby."

"can you-" you step to his side, slapping his big hand away. "stop fondling my food. it's only solidified because it's been cold for three days."

gojo places the macaroni back in the pan, then drags his finger across the rippled top. in english he drops his voice sensually and stares right into your eyes, "cheesy."

"i will kill you myself," you reach for an oven mitt, hitting his poking hand with it. "get out of my kitchen. seriously."

he protests, but he's no match for your sage green oven mitt as it comes down on his arms and back. you're trying to push him out, but he's not an easy statue to move. "aww, ba

"no. you're an idiot." you shut him down, more at ease with his presence not floating around your fragile kitchen. you'd make him anything he asks, but you have to do it. for being the strongest, he's so fucking clumsy.

"okay, okay," he gives up, flopping back on your bed. in a passing touch, he opens the top spiraled-gold button on his shirt. "can you bring me some? i promise I'll stop fondling your food, just please?"

standing in front of him, arms crossed with your mitt hanging from your fingers, you try everything not to fall into his mercy. "you could beg a little harder."

satoru gives you a smug little downcast look, sitting back on his hands in a wide spread. you want to dive headfirst into him, but this game of chase was something exciting, something satoru loved and knew he needed.

sometime later, he's got you pinned down in your bed, two fingers deep inside of you as he does everything he can to milk that first orgasm out of you. robe loose and hanging from your skin, you're burying your face in the fabric, tugging at the bed sheets as he leans over the side of your trembling figure.

his hands are so big, they're able to toy with your sensitive clit, kiss the insides of your thigh and crook damn-near five inches of just his fingers right into your crying g-spot. it's a heady feeling, so wicked and familiar that the one thing that could take it over the top, satoru is doing directly in your ear.

"baby~~ m'baby girlll," he's whispering in english, knowing how weak you get when your face goes all hot and flush. his accent does ungodly things to you -- things you'd never admit unless you're being fucked stupid. "cum for me, my sweet..."

"mhmfm, satoru-

"yeah? say my name." he gasps for you, craning his fingers at a sinful crook inside of you. you're drooling mercilessly all over his fingers and wrist, making the slick sounds between your legs heighten tenfold. "sooo wettt."

that fucking does it. his sinful voice, his exact, tiny movements and massages. it makes you crazy. "oh! i'm cummingimummingimcummingimcumming -- satoru!!"

he carries you through it, smirking and full of life as his thick fingertips push and prod at that most sensitive, needy spot inside of you. he's not even close to being done - he wants you to be on the verge of passing out and sobbing for mercy before he finally slips inside of you and carries you to a sensual end.

he counts every time he makes you cum on his fingers with the time passing on the clock, marking the fifth or sixth time with a soft kiss on your cheek.

under him, you're fucking wrecked, hair sticking to sweaty skin, thighs trembling and eyes unable to stop spilling lavacious tears. you're sure that last go around had you squirting all over his skilled fingers, but you were too fucked out and satoru wouldn't say anything until he knows you're alive enough to swallow the embarrassment.

in his own uniform pants, he's been sneaking a hand down there to press and rub off every few minutes, letting your stangled cries do most of the heavy lifting. he's cum untouched by your presence alone a few times, and you hold it over his head like a vice, but he doesn't care. it just shows you how much he needs you -- how much his body ticks for you.

you're limp and panting, thinking the escapade is over and done with when he stands up at the side of the bed, using his clean hand to push his pants down and cock free. he's so wound-tight and sensitive as he gives his little soldier a few tugs to relieve some angst. he's tossing his neck back, rolling it over his shoulders as sexual energy leaks from his glands without mercy.

he knows this is the final round, so he doesn't waste any more time. he's crawling between your spread legs, leaning down to kiss a knee before hovering over you in his favorite, highly intimate position - missionary.

"just this last time, wanted you to be whiny n nice." he's speaking more to himself than to you, but you find a shred of sanity in your head to push out a nod. "there you are. just say my name, baby. it's all I want to hear." he's talking you through it in english, knowing your fucky brain wouldn't be able to translate his comfortable, native japanese. he gets too heady and starts using vowels and honorifics you haven't even heard about.

so when he slides inside of you, completely raw and slick with the pressure of his own need, he's not expecting you to perfectly cry to him in japenese.

"i love you, satoru. so much, satoru. p-please, satoru..."

[snail-day]

Okay, Satoru. It’s just a thought. Just a tiny little passing thought that’s totally not turning his insides into goo. You should move in with me.

He thinks it once. Then again. Then another twelve times before lunch. Tossing and turning in bed, kicking the sheets off in frustration because the thought keeps trickling back.

He’s lying flat on his back in bed, hair a mess, blindfold askew, thumb mindlessly scrolling his phone while you hum in the kitchen. And it hits him again - soft and sudden - how nice this is. How perfect. How stupidly, heart-warmingly good it feels to have you here.

You’re wearing his shirt. His biggest one. It swallows you whole, slipping off one shoulder, sleeves dragging past your fingers. And you look so at home like that. Humming and barefoot and sleepy-eyed, stealing strawberries from his fridge like you belong here.

And maybe you do.

He makes a list in his notes app again. Title: Reasons you should move in Beneath it:

No more goodbyes

No more packing bags

No more waiting for a “made it home safe” text (even though he loves them. But he’d rather hear you say it in person. Whispered, sleepily, into his chest.)

No more having to wait when he has missions to come see you

No more nights without you

And then, after a pause:

I love you.

He stares at it too long. Taps the screen a few times. Doesn’t delete it.

Then, Shoko. Of course it’s Shoko. At the worst possible moment, over coffee, just sips and goes, “Most couples break up when they move in together, y’know.”

And now Satoru is spiraling. What if you hate his weird dish organization system? What if you think he takes up too much of the closet? What if you want to split rent even though he just wants to spoil you rotten and give you everything? What if you get tired of him? What if he says the wrong thing and ruins it?

He’s big. He’s loud. He forgets to put the cap back on the toothpaste sometimes. He talks too much when he’s nervous (which is always, around you). He’s him.

But then - you’re here again, on his couch, laptop propped on a pillow, mumbling at apartment listings with the cutest frown on your face.

“This one’s tiny.” “Why is there carpet in the bathroom?” “Three stars and one said ‘roach army.’ I can’t do roach armies.”

And something in his heart just snaps - in a soft, trembling, full-body kind of way.

He watches the way your nose scrunches. The way you tuck your feet under you. The way his hoodie dwarfs you completely. With the throw blanket you always leave thrown across your lap. You belong here. He wants you here. Desperately.

So he says it. Barely above a whisper. Practically choking on his own heartbeat.

“…You could just move in with me.”

And then he’s frozen. Stiff as a board. Sweat prickling at his neck. His pretty mouth parted like he wants to suck the words back in.

You blink up at him. And then that smile. Bright. Full of surprise and something sweeter, something soft and glowing and yes.

“Are you sure?”

His heart stutters. Then melts. Then does something violent and romantic in his ribcage.

God, you’re so pretty. Why are you so pretty? He swears the sun could retire, you’re smiling so bright.

“Yeah,” he says, voice a little hoarse. “I mean - only if you want to. I just thought... it’d be nice. Y’know. To have you here. All the time. With me.”

And then you’re in his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, giggling into his hair, and he’s pretty sure his soul just left his body.

He clutches you, hands slightly trembling, grip lacking because he's scared this is some dream. Hides his face in your shoulder. Mumbles something pathetic like, “You’re gonna kill me.”

You laugh. “In a good way?”

He nods into the hoodie you stole. “The best way.”

He doesn’t let go for a long time. Anytime you move away, he brings you back. Hopefully so you don't see the mess he's become. He's the strongest. Yet you make him weak.

Later that night, you’re lying in his bed again - your bed now too, maybe - and you’re talking about what corner your books would go in and whether he has space for your desk, and he’s just watching you, glassy-eyed and stupid in love.

Your fingers graze his jaw, after tracing a few scars on his body, brush his snowy hair from his lashes. And he just… melts. Turns into a puddle right there.

“I can’t believe you said yes,” he whispers. Slow and full of disbelief.

You giggle, a soft gentle noise that somehow still makes his heart stop, brushing your nose against his. “I can’t believe it took you this long to ask.”

Satoru smiles, wide and sleepy and helpless. He’s flushed pink all the way to his ears. He wants to bottle this feeling. Keep it forever. Because for once, everything is quiet. Safe. Full of love. That this is what forever feels like. New list: The proposal.

[smileysuh]

bottle service

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “Saying that… I was thinking… maybe tonight…” You can feel your skin heating in embarrassment, you’ve never had to ask a man for sex before, but it makes sense that with this man, this wonderful person who is leaving the ball in your court for all things decision-making, you have to be the one to speak up. “I was thinking maybe tonight we could go that one step further, if you want.” 

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, body/breast worship, foreplay, pussy eating/oral, massaging, blindfold/sensory deprivation, multiple reader orgasms, praise, dirty talk, mention if toys/reader having a dry spell, Cheol’s got a big thick cock, masturbation, mention of proper aftercare, etc… I pet names: (hers) Doll.  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 11.2k

🍭 aus.  Slice of life au, bottle service girl! y/n, bouncer!Cheol, friends/coworkers to lovers. 

☀️ mlist + an. As someone in the service industry, I kind of like doing this sort of au- I hope I was able to bring a bit of personal/lived experience to this fic :) 

Prologue:

It’s been a long shift, and you feel on top of the world as you finally head to the back of the club to do your tip-out. Your fanny pack is full of cash, and you’re already considering different places that would be open at this time of night where you can go and grab a quick post-shift meal. You’re hoping Wonwoo is up for something, as you’ve begun to enjoy yourself more and more when you hang out with the bartender.

You wouldn’t say he’s your boyfriend, not yet, but there’s a potential with him that makes you excited to come to work on nights when you’re both scheduled.

You’ve been in the business long enough to know that relationships with coworkers in the service industry can get… well, messy, but you’re hoping that the hot, quiet bartender will be worth your time.

There’s a late-night ramen place by your apartment, and as you push through the door to the back of house, you think Wonwoo might like a bowl of noodles now that your shifts are over.

You’re walking down the hallway, tired, head in the clouds- you’re hardly thinking as you make your way to the staff room- and then, you stop dead in your tracks.

Your brain hardly registers the sight in front of you, and before you can so much as take a breath, Wonwoo is pulling away from the coworker he was just kissing.

The two stare at you, and the girl has more of a conscience than him, immediately starting to explain herself. “Doll,” she says, using the name you give clients at work, “it’s not how it looks-”

Wonwoo, in contrast, stays dead silent, staring at you without a hint of emotion in his sleepy eyes.

Your heart is thumping in your chest, and you take a deep breath. “I’m going to cashout somewhere else,” you whisper, turning to leave the staff room.

You can deal with this later- right now, you just want to finish up and clock out.

It feels like the room is spinning as you head to the lockers, where a small table provides staff space to eat. You take out your cash slip, quickly slotting in your numbers from the night.

“Are you mad?” Wonwoo’s voice behind you makes you jump, heart leaping again.

“What?”

“Are you mad I was kissing someone else?” he clarifies.

You can’t help the scoff that escapes you. “Is that really a question?”

“We’re not official,” he states.

“You’re right, we’re not.” You sigh deeply, reaching into your fanny pack to pull out cash. “Here’s your tipout.”

You shove the money against his chest, and Wonwoo looks down at it, then up at you. “Are we good?”

“We’re not good,” you tell him firmly.

“Listen,” Wonwoo lets out a breath as you head to the lockers to gather your things. “It’s not that I don’t like you, it’s just, bottle girls are bottle girls, and… things take forever with you.”

“What?” You turn to face him.

“You know, flirting for months, finally taking you out, getting you in bed…” he slowly breaks off.

“Is this about the fact that I can’t cum easily? Are you serious?” You can feel your voice beginning to raise, and you do your best to calm down, this is not the place to be discussing your sex life.

“You’re just… I thought you’d be more fun, you know? Like the other bottle girls I’ve been with.”

“And I thought you’d be less of a fucking asshole,” you tell him, grabbing your jacket.

Wonwoo is staring at you with a stunned expression, and you leave him like that, hurrying back the way you came. It’s end of the night at the club, patrons have gone, bartenders are closing up, bouncers are putting away chairs.

You stop at the bar to tip out a few more people, and as you’re heading to the door, you notice Seungcheol approaching. He’s a dark haired, beefy bouncer, and you’re friendly with him, although he’s generally quite serious when he’s at work.

“You heading home?” Seungcheol asks.

“Yup.”

“Is Wonwoo going with you?”

“Nope.”

Seungcheol’s steps falter before he follows you out the front door of the club. “I’ll walk you to your car,” he tells you.

“I’m good.”

“Shit can be dangerous after the club closes,” Seungcheol muses. “You girls carry a lot of cash in those fanny packs of yours, and scumbags know it.”

You sigh, not having the energy to fight the bouncer on this. Things are quiet as he takes you to your car, and you’re kind of glad he doesn’t push you for any details. You know you’re exuding negative energy, a stark contrast to the way you’d been when you’d settled up to head to the back of house just a few minutes ago.

Seungcheol can read people, it’s one of the reasons he’s such a good bouncer, but he respects you enough not to pry, and you appreciate that.

He watches you get into your car, nodding to himself. “Have a good night, Doll.” 

“You too, big guy,” you sigh.

Seungcheol closes your door gently for you, and as soon as he’s stepped away, you pull out of the staff parking lot. A few blocks away, you park, taking a deep breath and allowing your emotions to wash over you.

You feel stupid that you’d trusted Wonwoo, stupid that you’d thought maybe things would go somewhere with him.

From now on, you’re going to just focus on work. 

The service industry is no place to find a partner. 

One:

It’s been a year since you caught Wonwoo kissing someone else, and since then, you’ve really focused on your job. Wonwoo is no longer a bartender at your club, and the girl he’d made out with had left shortly after the altercation.

While the club still holds some negative feelings for you, you’ve been doing your best to push through. Money has been good, and with a fresh focus on service, you’ve become the top bottle service girl. VIP’s come just for you, and you’re used to being a little flirty to make cash.

Jeonghan and Joshua are businessmen who come in frequently, and they always ask to sit in your section. 

They’re a developer and real estate agent double team, although sometimes you get confused about which one does what. They’re celebrating a recent triumph, with Joshua drunkenly explaining to you how ‘the house went through escrow, no contingencies, and now we’re smooth sailing, Doll!’ 

They’ve been drinking a lot, racking up a tab, paying for other people’s alcohol- these men know how to party, and you know how to keep a smiling face with endless enthusiasm for their ability to spend money.

“Have you ever thought about getting into real estate?” Jeonghan asks you. “Businessmen love it when a pretty girl is showing them around a big house, it’s part of the dream of what they could really acquire if they buy a property.”

“Can’t say I’ve considered it,” you smile.

“You’d make a killing,” Joshua agrees, leaning forward. “I’d love to have you on my team.”

“I appreciate that,” you admit. “I’m very happy where I am right now.”

“What if,” Jeonghan grins broadly, “I give you this…” He pulls out his wallet, plucking out two hundred dollar bills before sneaking them into the band of your fanny pack, “and you tell us you’ll consider the offer.”

“I’ll consider it,” you laugh, playing into their drunkenness. Considering an offer for two hundred dollars never means you have to follow through. 

“That’s our girl,” Joshua chuckles.

“Our Doll,” Jeonghan agrees, his hand slipping down from your fanny pack to your thigh, exposed by your short black dress-

There’s a flash of movement, and suddenly, someone is gripping Jeonghan’s wrist. “No touching,” Seungcheol’s deep voice reminds the VIP.

Jeonghan is shocked for a moment, the emotion written all over his face. “Right, sorry, my bad.” He tears his hand away from the bouncer. “Sorry, Doll, I got carried away.”

“That’s alright,” you assure them, trying to save face with two of your biggest spenders. “I’ll be back with that round of drinks for you.”

As you turn to leave the table, you pull Seungcheol with you, taking him down to the bar before you’re able to have a discussion. “Cheol-”

“I’m sorry if I stepped in a little quickly,” he tells you immediately. “They’ve been eying you all night, like they do every night, and I just…”

“No, it’s fine, he shouldn’t have touched me, I’m glad you were there.”

“I hope this doesn’t affect your tip or anything,” Seungcheol sighs.

“I’ll be fine,” you assure him. “I appreciate you being there.”

He’s really stepped up in the past year. Not only is he protective of you, but he’s protective of every bottle girl. There’d been a time before him where things hadn’t felt so safe, but with Cheol in the room every night, there have been significantly less incidences of violence from when the bar had first opened, or so you’ve heard.

He’s a good man, and he hires others of a similar caliber. All the bottle girls feel safe with Seungcheol and Mingyu at the door, and that sense of safety helps you all feel more comfortable at tables, leading to bigger and better tips.

Two:

You’re done cashing out for the night, and you meet Seungcheol at the door of the club. Mingyu takes over for him while the head bouncer walks you to your car, a system that’s made everyone feel safer in the past year.

“How was your night?” Seungcheol asks.

“It was good, after you checked Jeonghan, he felt bad, so they ended up tipping me out fifty percent of their bill.”

“That’s good,” he nods.

“If it weren’t for the tips, I don’t know what I’d do,” you laugh.

“It’s not a bad way to make a living,” the bouncer agrees.

“Did you know, Crystal, the new girl, she has a complete doctorate in psychology, but she makes more here as a bottle girl than by being a therapist?” 

“Makes sense why the mental health in this country is trash, the government needs to pay therapists more or something.”

You laugh at Seungcheol’s words. It’s true, a lot of very important jobs are becoming less desirable due to shit pay. “I’m still shocked that I can come in for a night and make most of my rent in tips,” you admit. “With Christmas coming up, people are dropping the big bucks, feeling charitable.”

“Just be careful, people are more drunk these days too.”

“True, they are more drunk,” you admit thoughtfully, “but I don’t have to be very careful when I have you walking around making sure nothing bad will happen.”

Seungcheol laughs as he opens your car door for you, helping you into your vehicle. “I’m glad I can make you feel safe,” he tells you.

“Me too, Cheol.”

Three:

It’s New Year’s Eve and you’ve got numerous tables of big spenders. Woozi and Seokmin are regulars, with the latter of the two having somewhat of an obvious crush on you. Normally, they’re pretty respectable, with Seokmin even being known to be a huge blusher. The poor man stutters sometimes when he talks to you, and you’ve never had any trouble with them.

But tonight… well, they’ve been here for hours, and you’re realizing that tonight might be the night you have to cut someone off.

The two men order a round of shots just before midnight, and you head to talk to your manager about it.

“Vernon, may I?” you ask, coming to stand next to your newest manager.

“What’s up, Doll?” he asks, looking up from his iPad.

“My table seventy, Seokmin and Woozi. They’re regulars, usually pretty good, but they’ve ordered a lot of drinks in the past half hour or so. Seokmin in particular has been swaying for the past five minutes. They just ordered another round, and I know it’s about to be midnight on New Years, but I think we need to cut them off.”

Vernon nods, and you watch him look over toward your table. “How much have they had?”

You pull out your own iPad, showing your manager the tab that the two men have collected over the past two or so hours.

“I agree, I think we should cut Seokmin off. He’s had three or four more shots than Woozi, so I think we’ll just respectfully go talk to him.”

“I’ll follow your lead,” you sigh, hating to have to do this.

The two of you take deep breaths before walking over to the table where Seokmin and Woozi are seated.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Vernon starts, plastering on a fake smile. “I’m Vernon, I’m the manager here.” He reaches out a hand, introducing himself to the two men. “Unfortunately, based on how much the two of you have had to drink tonight, the bar has decided to cut you off.”

“What?!” Seokmin bellows, eyes going wide.

“We take our liquor license very seriously here,” Vernon says, his tone lowering to have a regretful edge. “I know you guys are regulars, and I’m sorry I have to do this, but we just have to cut you off.”

Seokmin is very pouty and after a minute, you realize Vernon’s forgetting something. You don’t want to have to remind him of policy in front of guests, but you also don’t want him to head off without finishing this interaction completely, so you step forward. “Seokmin? May I ask how you got here tonight?” You know very well that he drove his sportscar.

“The mustang,” he frowns.

Vernon picks up on your line of questioning immediately. “I’m afraid we’ll also have to ask for your keys.”

Seokmin looks like it’s the end of the world as he pulls out the keys from his suit pocket. “This is the worst,” he groans.

“I hate to be this person,” Vernon sighs again, “but we’ll also have to ask you to vacate the premises.”

“What?!” Seokmin bellows. “But midnight is in ten minutes! Can’t I just stay for ten more minutes!?”

“Seokmin,” Woozi’s voice interrupts his friends dramatics. “We know how licensing works, they’re just doing their jobs. I told you to pace yourself, and here we are. I think you should go home, make things easy on Doll and her manager.”

“We can call you a taxi,” you offer, trying to send a warm smile toward the drunken Seokmin.

“I’m being a burden,” Seokmin whines, hiding his face in his hands. “I’m sorry, Doll, I’m sorry, Woozi-”

“It’s okay,” Woozi pats his friend’s back. “I’m sure me and Doll won’t hold it against you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you promise.

“I’ll take his tab,” Woozi tells you. “He should just get home.”

“Now you’re taking my tab?! I’m a burden and you’re a great friend!” Seokmin bellows, hugging the intense man next to him.

“Get out of here,” Woozi says, and there’s a fond smile on his face as he pats his friend’s back.

“Okay, I’m sorry for the trouble,” Seokmin apologizes again.

He stands up, and you notice immediately that he’s a little wobbly. “Let me help you outside,” you offer.

“We’ll both help,” Vernon says, and the two of you each grab one of Seokmin’s arms as he wobbles toward the front door.

It’s a packed club tonight, with many choosing your location as a spot to celebrate New Year's. The bouncers are quite busy with the door, but Seungcheol comes over the moment he notices you and Vernon struggling with a very drunken Seokmin.

“Vernon!” another bottle girl, Candy, has shown up too. “I need your help!”

“Shit,” your manager cusses. “Cheol, can you handle this?”

“I want to make sure he’s okay,” you step in. As much as your patrons are a way to make big tips, you do care about your regulars, and you know Seokmin would be happier having you there instead of some scary bouncer.

“Okay, I’ll make sure your section is covered for a few minutes,” Vernon nods before hurrying away with Crystal.

“I’m sorry,” Seokmin mumbles as Seungcheol takes over his right side, helping you drag the man out of the club.

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “Just take a few breaths.” 

The three of you stop by the curb, and Seungcheol looks around. “I’ll find a cab.”

Seokmin is standing for all of one minute before he collapses to the ground, slipping right from your grasp as he pukes onto the road in front of you.

“Fuck,” you mutter. You’re not sure what he ate today, maybe nothing, but if you’d had realized his tolerance tonight of all nights would be this bad, you would have cut him off ages ago. 

You lean down, rubbing Seokmin’s back. “It’s okay,” you tell him, “let it out.”

You take care of him while Seungcheol grabs him a ride, running inside to get a bag for him incase Seokmin pukes again. Then, the two of you help the poor man into the car, with Seungcheol talking Seokmin through his address.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Seokmin moans, pulling out his wallet. “Here.” He shoves a few hundred dollar bills at you and Seungcheol.

“Just get home safe,” you tell him, accepting the money.

Seokmin can only groan, rolling his window up as the cab pulls away from the curb.

You release a deep sigh, turning to Seungcheol. “Here,” you give him half the money, but Seungcheol holds up a hand.

“That’s yours, Doll,” he sighs. “I didn’t do much.”

You open your mouth to argue, and that’s when there’s a loud boom. You look up to see fireworks, and you realize, you’re next to Seungcheol, and the clock has just struck twelve on New Years Eve.

Your eyes shift to the bouncer, realizing how close you’re standing.

He looks so pretty tonight, all big and steady- the fireworks reflecting off his dark eyes.

You swallow the lump in your throat, wrapping your arms around yourself to counter the cold of the evening. 

There’s a connection between the two of you, and you’ve felt it for a few months, but now, in this exact situation, you know that every fiber of your being wants this man to kiss you.

“We should uh…” you notice Seungcheol’s gaze dip to your lips, his voice faltering, “we should head inside, you look cold.”

“Right, yeah.” You have to give your head a shake to focus again. “Thanks for the help.”

“Don’t mention it.” 

The two of you go back into the club and as you begin to serve the VIP tables again, you realize that despite the head shake, you can’t get Seungcheol out of your mind. 

Four:

“How’d your night go?” Seungcheol asks a few days later as he walks you to your car after a shift.

“Went alright,” you sigh. “Lots of people are doing the whole ‘Dry January’ thing, but my VIPs are pretty consistent with tips and orders.” 

“That’s good,” Seungcheol nods.

“Did you hear about the staff Christmas party in a few days?” you ask.

“Uh huh.”

“Are you going?”

“I’ll be there. You?”

“I’m going.”

The two of you reach your car and you turn to look at Seungcheol. 

The moment on New Years is fresh on your mind, in fact, it’s been practically all you’ve been thinking about these past few days.

There’s a new tension between the two of you, and you know from the way Seungcheol shifts his weight from one foot to the other, that you’re not the only one feeling it.

“Thanks for making sure I got to my car safe.”

Seungcheol only nods, and again, you catch him staring at your lips.

Is he going to do it? Is he finally going to kiss you?

“Have a good night,” Seungcheol says gruffly, stepping back.

“Thanks, you too,” you sigh, heart sinking in your chest.

He stays standing there until you’re in your car, and with one final nod farewell, you begin to drive home, the anticipation of a kiss dying in your chest. 

Five:

Staff Christmas parties can be hard in the service industry. With everyone booking their own parties and events at your place of work during the end of December, the only time to have them is early January, and then there’s the choice of doing a brunch before you open, or doing a late night thing after close.

A vote had been taken, and with many of you being night owls, you’d agreed to close an hour early on a Wednesday, so here you are, at 1 am, the first week of January, finally having your staff Christmas party.

Drinks are flowing, people are giggling, and overall, you’re enjoying yourself.

You’re not very close with many coworkers, especially after what had happened last year with Wonwoo. In fact, as you float around the room, holding your cocktail, you begin to realize that the person you might be the most connected to is - in fact - Seungcheol. 

But there’s still a tension between you, one that makes you nervous to approach the head bouncer as he chills in a booth with a few other beefy security men.

You bide your time, casting a glance his way every now and then. You don’t want to approach Seungcheol when he’s surrounded by others, but as his table widdles down to just him and Mingyu, you take a breath.

Mingyu is known as the softest bouncer, he’s tall, charming, and a hundred percent puppy dog. His eyes light up as you approach, and Mingyu moves over to provide room from you in the booth. “Hi, Doll!” Mingyu beams. 

“Hey, Mingyu,” you smile, taking a seat. “How are you two doing?”

“Open bar,” Mingyu responds, holding up his beer. You love how simple things are for this man, if there are cute girl and drinks, he’s happy- so, seeing as he’s a bouncer at a club, you’ve never seen Mingyu in a foul mood.

“What are you drinking, Cheol?” you ask, turning your attention to the person you really want to spend time with. “Vodka cran?”

“Cran soda,” Mingyu corrects. “Big guy isn’t a huge drinker.”

“Really?” you ask, brows raising. “I’m shocked.”

Cheol simply shrugs. “I make it a rule not to drink at work.”

“We’re off the clock,” you remind him with a grin. “Are you sure you don’t want to let loose a little? You seem tense.”

“I’m just not a huge party guy,” Seungcheol sighs, leaning back and resting his palm on the table. You’re struck by his large hands, how pretty they look- 

“Speaking of partying,” Mingyu interjects, “I think they’re going to start karaoke soon, I’ve gotta go put my name down.”

You laugh, getting out of the booth to allow Mingyu to scurry away before taking your seat again. “Are you a karaoke fan?”

“Not really,” Seungcheol responds. “You?”

“I can be,” you say thoughtfully. “It depends.”

“You don’t look like you’re having a lot of fun tonight,” Seungcheol notes.

“Wow, big guy, have you been watching me?” you laugh.

“Old habits die hard,” Seungcheol says under his breath. 

You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean by that?”

The large bouncer shrugs. “I guess, you’re our top bottle girl, you deal with regulars and VIPs who get a little more… I don’t know, bold, than others who are here. I always have my eye on you.”

You can feel your skin heat, a mix of embarrassment and pride. 

“Anyways,” Seungcheol swallows thickly and it’s clear he wants to shift the topic. “I’m also not drinking because I have to drive home soon.”

“You’re not staying for karaoke?”

“It’s not my scene.”

“Ah, I see.” Your heart sinks a little, you’d hoped to spend more time with him tonight.

“Do you need a ride?” he asks. 

“I was probably going to get a cab,” you admit.

“Listen, I think we both spend too much time in this club surrounded by people partying. I don’t know about you, but I’m more of a stay at home and have a quiet night in kind of guy. How would you feel about getting out of here, going to mine and actually relaxing now that we’ve shown our faces here and done our due diligence?”

“I would love that,” you tell him.

Seungcheol nods. “Let’s finish our drinks then.”

“I’ll drink to that,” you giggle, lifting your glass to gently clink against his own.

It’s crazy how you can be in a club full of coworkers and alcohol, music pumping through speakers and Crystal starting a horrible cover of ‘Defying Gravity’ on karaoke, but still, staring at Seungcheol in your booth, it feels like it’s just the two of you. 

You’re a little eager with your cocktail, and soon, the two of you are bringing your glasses over to the bar, grabbing your things, and heading out the door.

Seungcheol leads you to the staff parking lot, where he opens the passenger door to a massive black truck. “I’ll help you in,” he says, holding out a hand, “it’s a bit of a high step.”

You’re in cute heels, and you definitely need Seungcheol for stability as you climb into the large vehicle.

He shuts the door gently behind you before walking around the front of the truck to enter his own side.

“You cold?” he asks, putting the keys in the ignition so the truck can roar to life.

“Just a little, I’ll be fine,” you assure him.

The bouncer reaches forward, flicking a button. “I’m going to heat your seat for you.”

You can tell from his tone that he won’t take no for an answer. He wants to take care of you, wants to make sure you’re warm and comfortable. 

You admire the truck while the two of you begin to drive to his apartment, and you marvel at the view. Being so much higher than in your own car, it feels very different driving around.

“Are you sure you want to come to mine? I can take you back to yours and drop you off if you’d prefer,” Seungcheol offers.

“No, I want to spend some more time with you,” you admit, taking a leap and being vulnerable. 

You see Seungcheol crack a smile, but he doesn’t say anything, and the two of you just grin the whole way to his place. You look at the large building as he pulls into the underground, marveling at the modern location.

“Nice building,” you muse.

“It does the job,” Seungcheol says humbly as he parks. “Let me help you out of the truck.”

You wait patiently for him to come around to your side, opening the door and offering you his hand. You gently take his palm, allowing him to help you down. You love the princess treatment, and you think you could get used to this as the two of you head to the elevator.

The elevator ride up to his floor is quite, a giddiness exploding through your stomach. You’re excited about this, about what the night might have to offer you.

“So this is home,” Seungcheol says as he holds open his door for you, allowing you to step into his apartment first.

You can’t help the shock that floods over you at the entryway alone. The design choices are giving modern man, a man who is put together, a man with money, and this hadn’t necessarily been what you were expecting from Seungcheol.

“Wow, this place is nice,” you tell him, slipping off your high heels. “I didn’t know bouncers made this kind of money.”

Seungcheol laughs at your forward statement. “They don’t.” He puts his keys in the entryway decorative bowl. “I haven’t always been a bouncer, you know.”

“No? You didn’t come swinging right out of the womb?” you tease.

He releases another chuckle. “I uh, actually come from money. I own a few properties, make passive income off tenants and stuff. My dad actually owns the club we work at. I used to be a regular there when it first opened, and I saw how tough some of the bottle girls had it, dealing with VIPs and shit. Call it a quarter life crisis or something, but I figured I have enough money, enough assets, to do something that actually makes a difference, even in some small way… running businesses was always my dad’s thing anyway, not mine.” 

You stare at him in shock for a few moments, then you swallow thickly to find your voice. “I mean… I always thought Choi was just a common last name, I would have never guessed you were the owners son- I never expected this kind of origin story from you.”

“No? I don’t scream spoiled rich boy to you?” Seungcheol teases.

“I guess your truck probably should have tipped me off,” you admit with a giggle. “Look at you, closeted rich boy who comes to work in jeans and hoodies every day.”

“I like to be comfortable,” Seungcheol muses, leading you into his apartment. “My home is your home, take a seat, and I’ll grab us some drinks.”

You nod gratefully, making your way to the plush sectional couch in his livingroom. It’s an open floor plan, and you turn to watch him in the kitchen. The underlights littered around the cupboards provide just the right ambiance, and you take the time to appreciate the broadness of Seungcheol’s shoulders as he opens his fridge.

“What are you feeling?” he asks. “Beer or wine?”

“Wine sounds good,” you grin. “Although, I never took you as a wine drinker.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Seungcheol responds, pulling a bottle of white wine from the fridge. He retrieves two glasses and a corkscrew before coming to join you on the couch. He sets the glasses on the glass coffee table, and then you watch him expertly open the bottle, taking his time.

“You might be better at my job than I am,” you muse, smiling at the man who’s so focused on the wine in his hands.

“I’ve just got practice,” he retorts with a grin. Seungcheol pores you both a drink. “Cheers,” he says, and you clink your glasses. 

You take a sip, and Seugcheol watches you intently. “So, you know a little about my past,” he muses. “How about you? How’d you end up doing bottle service?”

You release a deep breath, leaning back against his couch. “That’s a good question.” You adjust a little, tucking your knees up so you can sit sideways, one arm draped over the back of the couch. “You know how I told you Crystal had a doctorate in psychology?”

“Mhmm,” he hums, sipping his wine.

“Well, I was in psychology too. Took the job to supplement my schooling, realized I was making a lot of money from tips. Crystal confirmed the salary difference and I guess I figured I’d put more energy into the club. I graduated a couple of months ago, I’m still considering going back for further schooling, but for now, I think I’m just trying to figure out what I want my life direction to be.”

“I guess having that background makes you better at bottle service,” Seungcheol points out. “You’re really good with clients, especially Seokmin on New Years eve.”

“People just want to be seen and heard,” you sigh. “In a drunk state, a lot of people can be guided with soft tones. You’re at the club to help us girls be safe, I guess I’m at the club to make people feel a little better about interacting with others… sure, there’s money involved too, but that’s capitalism for you.”

“Yeah, capitalism,” Seungcheol releases a sigh, and then a chuckle. “I definitely didn’t think our conversation tonight would steer towards politics and ideologies, but here we are.”

“Where did you think our conversation tonight would lead us?” you ask, cocking your head to the side with interest.

“I guess I just figured maybe I’d invite you back here, open a bottle of wine-”

“So the bottle of wine is for me, you don’t just keep chardonnay in your fridge!”

“Caught me,” Seungcheol laughs. 

“What else were you thinking of doing to me once I came here?” you ask, leaning forward with a mischievous arch of your brow.

The bouncer laughs even harder, throwing his head back, but the chuckle turns into a deep sigh, and he meets your eyes again. “Slow down there, Doll, I’m a gentleman.”

“Sure you are,” you tease.

“Why psychology?”

“Hmm?”

“Psychology, you said you took it in school, what pushed you in that direction?”

It’s definitely a topic switcheroo, and you sit back in your seat to think about it for a few moments. “I guess… I just like people. I’m interested in them, and why they are the way that they are.”

“Do you find that working in the service industry gives you a good test group of people to watch?”

You laugh. “That sounds way too scientific for me. I think I’m just a people person.”

“But we both got bored at the party.”

“We just finished shifts. I can’t be surrounded by noise and problems and gossip all day every day,” you point out. “Besides, I wanted to get to know you better, and the club isn’t the best place for that. I think I’ve learned a lot more about you just by seeing where you live than anything else I’ve discovered this past year.”

“Do you like what you’ve learned?”

You smile, nodding. “Yeah.”

You chat for a while, then Seungcheol puts on a show in the background while the two of you take turns asking all sorts of questions. You realize, as Seungcheol drapes a blanket over you, that he truly has no intention of fucking you tonight. He’d brought you back here to get to know you better, not for some ulterior motive that involved getting his dick wet.

You feel safe with him, and as you cuddle up to his side, only half paying attention to the show on the screen, you release a breath. Soon, you’re drifting off to sleep, and you know you’re in good hands. 

Six:

You wake up slowly, then all at once, sitting up abruptly with your heart lurching. The room around you is unfamiliar, and when you turn, you notice Seungcheol passed out in bed next to you. He’s still wearing his hoodie, with the hood all the way up, his hair a tangle of dark curls.

When you adjust, he stirs, blinking groggily. “Doll?”

“Sorry, I just-” 

“Come here,” he grumbles, pulling you back down and to his chest. 

You feel like an extremely little spoon in his embrace, and your heart is racing like a sportscar still. “What happened last night?” you ask.

“You passed out on the couch, it’s more comfortable here. I thought about getting you out of your dress, but I figured that would be creepy so we’re still wearing out clothes from last night,” he sighs. “What time is it?”

“Eleven thirty,” you say, looking at the clock on his bedside table.

“Shit,” he groans.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” you laugh.

“No, I just… Usually I work out at nine am.”

“Guess it’s a skip day.”

“Guess so,” Seungcheol agrees, holding you tighter.

You can feel his breath on the back of your neck, and fuck, it feels good. 

You could get so used to this.

“Should we wake up?” he asks.

“If you want.”

“We probably should,” Seungcheol sighs deeply. “Five more minutes.”

You have no qualms with five more minutes of cuddling, and when the time is up, Seungcheol haphazardly gets out of bed. He’s stumbly, his eyes still half closed, and God, does he look adorable.

“I want to take you for brunch,” Seungcheol says. “I’ve gotta shower quickly, do you want to change into some of my clothes?”

“Honestly, I don’t think I’d fit in your clothes, with your broad shoulders and stuff,” you laugh.

“At least take a jacket, closets right here,” he disappears into the walk in, returning with a bundle of clothes in his arms. “I’m gonna shower, feel free to take anything you like, I’ll be right back.”

You wait till he’s in the ensuite bathroom, the water running, before you sneak out of bed to investigate his closet.

Turns out he has more than just hoodies and jeans, and you try not to be super snoopy as you look at suits and other attire.

You find a duster jacket, and when you put it on over your dress, you like the oversized feel of it.

You go to wait on his bed, and soon, Seungcheol’s coming out of his bathroom in a new set of clothes. “Are you a brunch girl?” he asks, leading you through his apartment toward the front door.

“I can be, with the right person.”

“Now I see how you get tips, Doll, you’re a charmer.”

“Just being honest with you,” you grin.

Seungcheol chuckles, pulling on a hoodie to go with his jeans before he opens the front door for you to exit.

You’re both tired as you take the elevator down to his truck, and Seungcheol tells you he ‘knows a brunch place,’ so you leave the details in his capable hands. 

He takes you to a small Mom and Pop style restaurant, and by the way the hostess greets him, you can tell he comes here a lot. The two of you get a secluded booth in the corner of the restaurant by the window, and Seungcheol releases a deep breath as you sit down.

“I come here most days after the gym, I’m not much of a cook back home,” Seungcheol tells you. “They always let me bring a protein shake in here, and the eggs are good.”

“I’m excited to try the food then,” you admit, looking at the menu.

The waitress comes, and you notice the way she looks at Seungcheol, you suppose you can’t blame her, you look at him the same way. 

He’s cordial with her, the two of you getting drinks, and soon, you’re ordering food too. “Eggs any way, let’s do scrambled, make it four eggs, with cheese, rye toast, extra bacon and extra sausage,” Seungcheol tells her.

“Wow, only four eggs today?” The waitress cocks her brow.

“Didn’t come from the gym,” Seungcheol explains.

“You got it, boss,” the server teases.

She takes your order next, then scurries off, and Seungcheol’s gaze shifts to you. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“I like you, a lot.”

“I like you too, a lot,” you grin.

“How do you feel about dating coworkers?” he questions.

“I mean… we both know things didn’t end well with Wonwoo, so I’d sort of promised myself not to do that again, but… well, you’re not Wonwoo.”

“I’m definitely not,” Seungcheol agrees with a sad chuckle. “Do you mind if I ask you what happened with him? I mean… you strike me as someone a little more serious, someone looking for something more serious, I always kind of wondered why you tried with Wonwoo of all people.”

“That’s a good question,” you admit, leaning back in the booth. “Honestly, I think I liked the idea of him. I figured he was kind of quiet, which would mean he wasn’t a player, but I was wrong.”

Seungcheol nods, looking down at his hands. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“He thought that, since I do bottle service, I’d be willing to put out quickly, but, I’m not that kind of girl. I have to be comfortable with someone in order to have that sort of deep connection, you know?”

“Yeah, I’m not one for one-night stands either,” Seungcheol agrees.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page about this,” you grin gratefully. 

“Me too.” Seugcheol reaches over the table, grabbing your hand. It’s a delicate touch, but it speaks volumes. 

The two of you continue to chat, and food comes. You eat peacefully together, and brunch is ending much too quickly for your liking. The two of you get back into his truck, and Seungcheol drives you home, insisting on helping you out of his vehicle again.

You love the way he holds out his hand, helping you down onto the pavement. His free palm steadies you at the hip, and you look up at the bouncer expectantly.

He swallows thickly, his gaze shifting to your lips. “You have no idea how much I wanted to kiss you on New Years,” he admits, tone low.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wished you did.”

There’s a brief moment of eye contact, of Seungcheol being sure you’re okay with this, and then, he cups your cheek, leaning down to finally close the distance.

His lips are soft, his palm warm against your skin, and you have to stifle a moan at first contact. You shift closer, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, pressing your chest to his own.

Seungcheol grabs the small of your back, keeping you tight to his body, the kiss deepening.

There’s a honk from nearby traffic and you jump a little, pulling away while the two of you double check your surroundings.

Your heart is racing in your chest. Once again, you’d been pulled so completely into the experience of being with Seungcheol, that you’d nearly forgotten everything else going around you. 

You’re still in a daze as you meet his gaze again, and Seungcheol slowly moves, pressing his forehead against your own in the most loving way possible. “I’ll see you soon,” he promises, gifting one last chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away.

You practically stumble away from him, overwhelmed as you use your key to get into your apartment lobby. You turn to wave goodbye to the bouncer who’s still watching you from his truck, intent on making sure you get home safe, as always.

Seven:

“So…” Candy grins as you both count up your money after a good night, “what’s going on with you and Seungcheol?”

“Huh?” 

“I saw you two leave the Christmas party together,” she muses, pausing what she’s doing to give you her full attention. “Something definitely happened.”

“You think so?” you laugh.

“You’re both hot, so, yeah.”

It’s been five days since that night, five days of you and Seungcheol spending every day together in some capacity or another. 

“I can see you grinning,” Candy teases before leaning in, her voice lowering. “How is he in bed?”

“Candy!” you laugh, shocked at her direct question.

“What?” She acts as if it’s the most normal inquiry in the world. “You guys have to have slept together by now, no?”

“For your information…” you lower your own tone, shifting closer. “We haven’t.”

“What? But you’re in the service industry! We’re all whores here!”

You can’t help but giggle at her words. “Not all of us, babes.”

“Okay, but… soon though?”

“Maybe…”

“You’re seeing him tonight, aren’t you, Doll?” Candy’s grin widens.

“Maybe…” you singsong.

“Bet you can’t help yourself anymore, huh? Tonight’s the night?” Candy pokes your arm. “That man is so big and tree-like that you could climb him, it must be hard holding out.”

You finish up your cash out with a sigh and a shake of your head. “It’s actually been nice just getting to know him.” 

“And when you get married, I’m invited,” Candy declares.

“Sure you are, goodnight, Candy.”

“Only one of us is having a good night, you fucking tree climber.” 

You’re still laughing as you get back into the main club area. Seungcheol is waiting for you by the doors, and together you walk to his car.

“Do you want me to take you back to yours tonight?” he asks.

“Hmm?”

“I mean…” he rubs the back of his neck as he holds open the passenger door for you. “I don’t want to be presumptuous-”

“Well I like to be presumptuous,” you tease, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “which is why I packed an overnight bag for your place.”

Seungcheol grins. “I love a woman who knows what she wants.”

Eight:

You feel like you’ve had a crash course in all things Seungcheol in the past five days, even so, you want to know more, so, you’ve resorted to finding cheesy lists of questions online to ask him.

He’s adorable when you suggest it, pouring you both a small glass of wine before joining you on the couch.

The two of you take turns asking questions, finding inquiries that you hadn’t thought to ask before.

“What was the first thing you noticed about me,” you grin, putting your phone down.

“Your work ethic,” Seungcheol answers. “Your smile, your… infectious personality.”

“Infectious? Okay, mister resting grumpy face,” you tease.

“I’m a bouncer, it’s part of the job,” he muses, reaching for your phone to find a question of his own. “What was your favourite part of our first date?”

“I mean, if you count coming back here after the Christmas party as our first date, it was the fact that I fell asleep so easily next to you. You just relax me, I even woke up in your bed fully clothed after which was nice-”

“Common decency,” Seungcheol interjects with a sigh.

“Still,” you insist. “If we’re talking about the brunch the next morning as our first date, I think I just sort of liked how natural it felt, as if we’d done it a thousand times. There wasn’t any food anxiety-”

“Food anxiety?”

“You know, worrying about getting food on my face or in my teeth, or you judging me on what I ordered- you just, accept me, and I knew it from the start.”

“That’s cute,” Seungcheol grins, passing you your phone back. 

You skim the screen for a few seconds. “Have you told your friends about me?”

“Yeah, my friends outside of work know about you.”

“They do?” you smile, heart softening.

“They’ve known about you for a while.”

“Been crushing on your coworker for how long, Cheol?” you tease.

“Like I said… a while.”

You’re satisfied with your answer, so you pass him your phone.

“I found a question,” he says after a moment, “but if it’s not something you want to dive into, we can skip it.”

“Just go for it.”

“So… we’ve talked a bit about this before, for example, I know you’re not a one-night stand person, but other than that, why didn’t things work out with Wonwoo, or, your ex?” he asks, adjusting the question on your list ever so slightly. 

“Oof.” You let out a deep breath, taking a sip of your wine.

“Like I said, we can skip it,” Seungcheol assures you.

“No, just give me some time,” you tell him, trying to center yourself. “You want the real answer? The TMI answer?”

“Always.” 

“I told you I’m not into one night stands, I told you I need a deeper connection with people- at the root of it, I can’t uh… I can’t cum unless I feel safe with someone.”

Seungcheol is quiet for a moment. “So safety, and probably a lot of foreplay.”

“Exactly.”

“And most men haven’t given you that in the past?” he enquires.

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Then they didn’t deserve you.”

“And… how would you be different?” you ask, heart beginning to thump faster in your chest.

“Well, I’d take my time with you, for one,” Seungcheol responds, putting your phone down and shifting so he can face you. “I’d find out what you like, what you don’t like… I’d reassure you verbally, I wouldn’t pressure you, and I’d give you space to be yourself.”

“You’re already doing all of those things, which I appreciate,” you admit. “I like how slow we’ve been going.”

“Yeah, me too.” He licks his lips, and your eyes are drawn to the motion.

“Saying that… I was thinking… maybe tonight…” You can feel your skin heating in embarrassment, you’ve never had to ask a man for sex before, but it makes sense that with this man, this wonderful person who is leaving the ball in your court for all things decision-making, you have to be the one to speak up. “I was thinking maybe tonight we could go that one step further, if you want.” 

“Are you sure you’re up for that?” Seungcheol asks, cocking his head to the side to assess you.

“Yes.” You nod, forcing yourself to exude assertiveness. “I feel safe with you, and I’m ready to break my dry spell.”

“Dry spell, huh?” The bouncer grins. “I’ll make the wait worth it.”

“You promise?” you ask, moving closer to him.

“I promise.” His strong hands pull you into his lap and you straddle his waist on the couch, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck loosely. 

The two of you just stare at each other for a moment, and then Seungcheol leans forward, pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

You love how gentle he is with you, but tonight, you want more, and you quickly change the pace of the kiss when you lick at his lower lip, shyly asking for entry.

Seungcheol releases a groan, opening up to you, and you return the sound with a whimper of your own, shifting in his lap. Your chests are pressed together now, and Seungcheol’s hands move from your hips to the small of your back, massaging your body gently as you kiss.

He feels so good, and your mind goes blank as the two of you enjoy each other.

You can’t help it when you begin to move though, wiggling gently against him. You can already feel something pressing up between your legs, and it makes you more confident knowing you’ve had this sort of affect on him.

You’re both breathing heavily when Seungcheol moves his mouth to your neck, searching until he finds your sweet spot. You let out a loud moan, tilting your head back, grabbing at his shoulders tightly. He licks at your skin, gently circling the spot that has your entire body reacting.

Seungcheol releases a deep groan, his hands moving to grip your ass, and then he stands up suddenly,  making you clutch onto him in shock. 

“Moving to the bedroom,” he tells you, carrying you the short distance. 

Seungcheol sets you gently onto his bed, looking down at you. He lets out a breath, running a hand through his unruly curls. 

“What are you thinking?” you ask.

“I was thinking maybe you’d be into a blindfold.”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve heard that some girls who have anxiety in bed relax more when there’s no need for eye contact, when they can just focus on what’s feeling good.”

“Do you have a blindfold?”

“I have a sleeping mask,” Seungcheol responds, reaching into his bedside table to retrieve one. “Are you up for it?”

“We could give it a try,” you tell him, heart leaping in your chest.

“I think this needs to come off first though,” Seungcheol muses, pulling at your hoodie.

“Do what you need to do,” you say, giving him permission to take care of you in the way he sees fit.

Seungcheol joins you on the bed, and he prompts you to sit up. His hands slip under your hoodie, gently lifting it, but leaving your shirt on beneath.

He kisses you then, taking his time with you, his hands exploring your body. For the first time, his large palm grazes your breast, and you whimper against his lips, arching your back, a nonverbal communication that you want him to continue.

Seungcheol’s mouth moves to your throat again, zoning in on your sweet spot. He begins to slowly slide your shirt up, and soon, he’s discarding that too. All that’s left on your upper half is your bra, and Seungcheol grips your breasts through the padding. His lips kiss the swell of your chest, his hair teasing your jaw even as you throw your head back, breathing heavily.

“Can I take this off too?” he asks, voice low, lust-filled.

“Please.” 

His fingers expertly unclasp your bra and he gently takes it off of you, tossing it onto your ever-growing pile of clothes next to the bed. 

Seungcheol lays you down softly, pressing his lips against your own. He kisses you deeply and you wrap your arms around him, teasing your fingers along his strong shoulders. You tug at the fabric of his shirt and you can feel him smirk against your lips.

He sits up, reaching behind himself to grab the nape of the neck of the fabric, and then he tugs it off, revealing a chiseled body of muscle. But he’s not lean-muscled, he’s clearly got some beef to him too, and it makes Seungcheol all the more attractive. 

His own eyes take in your bare torso, and then he reaches for your breast, softly cupping it. His thumb strokes past your nipple and you groan, writhing against his bed sheets. 

Seungcheol leans down, kissing your throat. He takes his time as he begins to descend, and your heart is thundering with anticipation by the time he makes it to your nipple. He licks it gently, circling the pebbled bud.

You groan loudly, threading your fingers in his hair.

He grins as he continues sucking on your nipple, his free hand moving up to cup the neglected breast. You love how he’s taking his time with you, and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

“Can I take your sweatpants off?” he asks.

“Yes, please.” You lift your hips to make things easier for Seungcheol, and soon, your pants are discarded, leaving you only in your panties. 

“I think it’s time for the blindfold if you want,” he suggests, sitting up and reaching for it.

He passes the silky fabric to you, and you take a breath. “Let’s do it.”

“If you want to take it off for any reason, just take it off, okay?” He’s looking at you very seriously, and you know in your heart that he values your own comfort more than anything else.

“Okay.” 

You slowly slip the blindfold on before relaxing back against the bed and releasing another deep breath.

Seungcheol grabs your calf gently, massaging it. His hand is warm and big, working it’s way up to your knee, then you’re thigh.

He shifts on the bed, and a moment later you feel breath against your clothed core.

You grip the bed sheets in anticipation.

Seungcheol presses a kiss to your panty-covered clit and your toes curl involuntarily. You half expect him to continue to focus on your pussy, but his lips quickly move to your inner thigh. 

One of his hands is still massaging your thigh, and everything feels heightened with the blindfold on. You’re entirely focused on Seungcheol and his gentle movements, your skin electrified with sensitivity. 

“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your inner knee. 

You can only moan in response, mind pleasantly blank except for the slow build of pleasure that the bouncer is providing for you.

His breath ghosts past your core again and you shiver, clutching harder at the sheets. 

“You look a little impatient too,” Seungcheol muses, and you can imagine his grin as he looks up at you.

“I am,” you admit, “impatient.”

“You’re being good for me so far,” he points out. “Maybe… I should finally reward you.”

“Please,” you practically beg. 

“Gonna take these off of you now,” Seungcheol says, curling his fingers in the waistband of your panties.

You lift your hips again, and just like that, you’re completely bare for him.

It kind of helps that your own eyes are covered, that you’re not anxiously gaging his reaction to you-

“Still so pretty,” Seungcheol groans, and that’s all the confirmation of attraction that you need. Your pussy throbs at his words, and your skin tingles as he massages your thighs again. “Can you spread these for me, Doll?” 

You’re quick to follow through with his request, his large palms helping to spread you open for him. 

“Something tells me no one’s eaten you out properly in a very long time,” he muses.

“Try never.”

“You’ve never been eaten out?”

“I have, just… not properly.”

“Men these days,” Seungcheol sighs, and you giggle at his defeated tone. 

Your laugh quickly turns into a whimper when Seungcheol licks a stripe of your pussy. He starts at the bottom, and makes his way to the top, circling your clit gently. 

“Shit,” you groan, reaching down for him with one hand, trying to grab at his hair.

“Do you like it rough, or gentle?” he asks, guiding you by your wrist so you can take hold of his head.

“A bit of both- surprise me,” you breathe.

“You got it, Doll.”

His attention quickly returns to your core, where he begins to suck and lick. Every time you start to feel close from him playing with your clit, his tongue slips down to press into your hole. It’s a push-pull of pleasure, a teasing control of your body.

Your stomach muscles begin to clench, and you start to feel desperate. 

“Seungcheol,” you whine, “I want to cum.”

“Yeah?” He’s panting against your pussy now and it feels so fucking good. 

“Please?”

“I thought you said it’s hard to make you cum, I figured I’d be down here for a while.”

You pause, realizing that this might be the fastest you’ve ever come to an orgasm with a man. 

“I-” You can’t find words, and you swallow thickly. 

“I don’t think you have a problem cumming,” Seungcheol muses, stroking your thigh. “I think no man has put an effort into foreplay or eating you out, which is a shame.”

“You really… you don’t think anything is wrong with me?”

“There was never anything wrong with you, Doll, you should know by now that most things in this world are a man’s own fault, they just push it onto the women who are around them because they lack the emotional maturity to take accountability for their own failings.”

You let out a sad chuckle, shocked at the words that have just come out of his mouth. “You’re deeper than I ever imagined you would be, Cheol.”

“Baby, you have no clue how deep I can be, but you’re about to find out… you can cum, by the way, you don’t need my permission.”

Your heart skips a beat as his mouth returns to your pussy, and this time, he doesn’t tease around, it’s clear to him that your clit is ready to be properly stimulated, and you get the sense that Seungcheol would never deny you anything, least of all an orgasm. 

He’s being rougher with your clit now, but he’s built you up to the point where you can take it. Your thighs are beginning to shake, your muscles tensing in preparation for the high that you know you’re about to hit. 

You can’t help the moans slipping out of you, and there’s something so erotic about being blindfolded still- you can fully enjoy yourself, fully enjoy the masterful way Seungcheol’s mouth is working your most sensitive spot-

He sucks harshly and that’s all you need to cum, your orgasm exploding through you like fireworks. Your grip intensifies on his hair, keeping his face buried between your thighs while your entire body begins to shake with pleasure. It’s all-consuming, all-encompassing- and without a doubt, the best orgasm you’ve ever had with a man. Sure- your vibrators have been pretty amazing in the past, but fuck, there’s something about Seungcheol, something about someone else doing this to you- it gives you goosebumps as the waves of pleasure surge through you.

You’re gasping by the time you let up on his hair, and Seungcheol finally pulls away from your shaking body.

You can feel his eyes taking you in, and you slip the blindfold off, blinking up at him.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, pushing a piece of hair out of your face.

“So good,” you whimper, still trying to catch your breath.

“Do you want to stop now, or…”

Your gaze shifts down to the tent in his sweatpants- you can’t believe he’s willingly volunteering for blue balls- completely okay with having pleasured you and not getting a release for himself.

“No, I want to go all the way, clearly,” you retort. “Take your sweatpants off.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he teases, getting off the bed so he can push the black fabric down. His hard cock slaps up against his lower abdomen, and you can feel yourself practically drooling. “So… condoms?”

“I’m clean, and I’m on birth control.”

“I’m clean too, but if you don’t take my word for it, I’ve got protection-”

“Cheol,” you laugh, cutting him off, “I trust you.” 

“I trust you too,” he says, getting back onto the bed with you.

He slips between your legs, his lips meeting yours desperately. Your thighs wrap around his hips, pulling him close until his cock is dragging against your pussy with each movement.

Your hands grab at his shoulders, chests pressed together now- it’s as if you’re breathing each other in. Nothing feels awkward or forced, and it definitely doesn’t feel like your first time with him. He knows you, knows what you like, what pace suits you best-

God, you’re at a very real risk of falling head over heels for this man, but you decide that’s something to worry about later.

“Cheol,” you whimper against his lips, and that’s all you need to say to him as a cue, he reaches between your bodies, grabs the base of his cock, and guides the tip to your wet hole.

“If it hurts-” he begins to say, but you draw him closer with your legs wrapped around his hips, forcing an inch of his length inside of your aching hole before he can finish his sentence. “Shit-” He cusses, breathing heavily.

He dips his head, eyes glued to the spot where he’s sinking inside of you.

An actual, honest-to-God, non-man-made material cock hasn’t been inside of you in ages, and it feels so good to have something real dragging against your sensitive inner walls. You moan immediately, throwing your head back and shutting your eyes.

Seungcheol takes the opportunity to kiss your sweet spot, teasing you as he sheaths himself all the way to the hilt. You both gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“You good?” he pants.

“So good,” you retort with another loud moan.

Seungcheol begins to move, slowly at first, allowing you to fully adjust to the size of his cock. You can feel your body relaxing, and as it gets less tense, Seungcheol’s pace begins to increase. 

His lips move from your throat to your own mouth again, and the two of you kiss desperately as he fucks you.

Nothing has ever felt this right. 

“Fuck, I’m close already,” Seungcheol muses.

“Then cum?”

“No, I want to enjoy this more,” he argues. “Here, can we switch positions?”

“Yeah, how do you want me?”

“Mmm… Maybe doggy? Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” You nod quickly, pressing one last kiss to his lips before he pulls out of you. 

You quickly roll onto your knees, arching your back and presenting yourself to him.

“Fuck, you look good in every angle, don’t you, Doll?” he groans, massaging your ass.

“I live to please,” you tease, wiggling your bum gently.

“Shit.” Seungcheol pushes his cock into you again and you both groan. “Want you to rub your clit for me. I don’t want to cum until you cum again, want you squeezing my cock and gripping the bed sheets when we both tip over the edge.”

“Yes, Cheol,” you whimper, slipping your hand between your thighs to rub your sensitive bud while Seungcheol begins to fuck you.

His pace is slow, careful- and you’d bet your wages that he’s still close to the edge, that he’s actively trying to calm down to give you time to get there too.

One of his hands continues to massage your ass, a constant reminder of his gentle and caring nature. He’s not gripping hard or slapping- just massaging, and it feels amazing.

Each thrust has him hitting a spot deep inside of you, doggy is a great position for that kind of penetration, and once again, you close your eyes to focus on the sensation.

You rub your clit harder, and the two of you groan as your pussy squeezes around his cock in response.

“Shit, you feel so good,” Seungcheol murmurs, both hands finding your hips as he begins to fuck you faster. 

“You too,” you whimper, focusing entirely on the feeling of pleasure building in your pussy. “Can you slow down for a second?”

“Yeah.” You hear him swallow thickly, his pace decreasing. “Better?”

“Yeah, I just have to- fuck, focus on my clit for a sec.”

“Take your time,” he assures you. 

You relax your body, breathing deeply as you rub your clit in hard circles. Your pussy begins to clench again and Seungcheol groans-

“Almost, almost,” you whisper- you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge- “okay, fuck, I’m going to cum!”

“Should I fuck you?” he asks, and you can hear the frazzled tone in his voice.

“Yeah, fuck me, shit, fuck me, please!” you cry out desperately, so close to the edge that you can taste it-

“You got it, Doll.” 

And just like that, he’s pistoning into you. The feeling of his cock filling you up is the cherry on top of your pleasure, and you release a strangled whimper- “Cumming!”

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans behind you as your pussy clamps down hard on him, squeezing him like a vice.

His thrusts momentarily falter as your core throbs around him, and then his fingers are digging into your hips. “I’m cumming too-” he tells you, and you can feel his cum beginning to fill you up.

It feels so fucking good to be filled like this again, and you gasp as you both cum together. Your hands ball up in the fabric of his bed like an anchor, your entire body consumed by pleasure for the second time tonight.

The groans leaving Seungcheol’s lips are a whole different kind of sexy, and you focus on him as you both begin to come down from your highs.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol moans, stopping behind you, his hands smoothing up and down your back again. “You good?”

“So good,” you whimper.

“I’m going to go get you a cloth, and then we should have a shower together.”

“I’m so tired though-” you begin to argue.

“Doll, you might not be used to men taking care of you, but I want to be the person who makes you feel good, and part of that, is having a nice shower after sex, then cuddling up in bed. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, Seungcheol,” you smile, “I trust you.”  

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! we love feminist!Seungcheol in this house!

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🔮 preview. You’ve realized in the couple of months you’ve been dating Seungcheol that with the right person, cumming can happen. It’s not that it’s necessarily easy yet, but it’s not some all-consuming, anxiety-inducing hurdle to jump over with a man who isn’t supporting you at all.

cw/ tw.  Unprotected sex, body worship, blow job/oral, hand job, multiple positions, Cheol is impatient and needy when reader is giving, praise, dirty talk, teasing, masturbation,  etc…   I petnames. (hers) Doll.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 160

🌙 starring. Seungcheol x afab!Reader

bonus

“You look upset,” Vernon muses as you take a breather at the bar while waiting for cocktails to be made.

“Do I?” you sigh, closing your eyes to center yourself.

“Did uh… did something happen with Seungcheol?”

“What? God, no.” An awkward laugh tumbles from your lips. “Do I seriously look that upset?”

“You definitely look off,” Vernon points out.

“It’s just…” you exhale deeply, “you know, being in bottle service, getting hit on is part of my job, being a little flirty is how I make the most tips-”

“But you feel like that’s not being nice to Seungcheol,” your manager finishes for you, hitting the nail on the head.

“Exactly.” 

“I mean…” Vernon’s gaze shifts to the bouncer by the door. “He doesn’t strike me as a jealous person.”

“And he’s not,” you’re quick to assure him, “that’s not the problem.”

“So… if he doesn’t care, then… what do the kids say these days? Make that bag? Make that money to buy that bag?” 

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[specialgradefckr]

Satoru Gojo who thinks you're only with him for the money.

He's pretty insufferable, after all. And a shitty boyfriend to boot - always bailing on dates, showing up at weird times, telling you vague stories about his work that don't make sense.

Honestly he's surprised you've stuck around this long.

That you still read every message he spams you when he's bored and lonely fighting special grade curses.

(after all, he always has to go on those missions alone. there's no one who can go with him.)

You still text him back. Open the door to let him in. Smile when you see him, like it's the very first time and he can tell you're just so star-struck by his eyes as he tugs down his blindfold with a grin, "Do I look blind to you?" "Blindingly handsome!"

He'd laughed at that. You're shocked by his appearance, but you're earnest, and so obviously smitten, and he loves a woman with a little humor.

Satoru Gojo who didn't expect you to text him back after the first night, but you did.

cutie pie: omg, those look so good! what flavor? satoru: my favorite, the edamame and cream~ cutie pie: bring some for me next time you visit <3 i'll feed them to you ;)

On a lesser man, that might have sounded presumptuous. To Satoru, it's the perfect come-on. Casual, flirty, and easy to do - all the makings of a great hookup.

He hadn't expected to spend half the night on his knees like a dog, licking at your fingers. Watering over a thumb pressed down against his tongue while you drooled your mochi-sweet saliva straight into his open mouth.

Unexpected, but amazing! Satoru knew then that you were going to be a treat worth savoring.

It was just a shame that he could only enjoy you for one night.

Not even that much, really. He'd been called away in bed; one arm wrapped around your darling naked form, holding you pressed against him.

Left while you were asleep without a word. He'd texted you on the way, a blase little "sowwyyyyy smth came up! u were gr8 last night." and no real expectations of a return.

If you were (reasonably) upset with him, he'd block you - his one act of kindness to a woman he couldn't treat right.

Instead he gets "thanks! you weren't so bad yourself haha" and your enthusiasm is obviously a bit defused, but he can work with this.

He lays it out to you, next chance he gets. Tries to text you often enough to make sure you don't think he's ghosted you.

"I know this might sound like the kind of thing married men say," He says with a big, sardonic smile, "But I have a very demanding job. I don't have time for a relationship. And for personal reasons, I can't agree to be exclusive, either."

There's a look you give him that makes him wonder what exactly you think of his job. Satoru vaguely wonders if you think he's a sex worker.

He hopes you try to find him on porn websites later. Maybe he should film himself jerking off real quick sometime so you can watch it.

"That makes sense," Is what you say, instead of any of the ridiculous thinks he'd imagined.

You don't seem thrilled about it, but you don't look immeasurably disappointed, either. You're a smart girl. You'd probably already figured he couldn't commit.

"But!" He chirps, "I am very very interested in seeing you again. Multiple agains. And I'd like to come to an arrangement that makes that easier for you, since my schedule is so tight..."

For a moment, you stay quiet, and Satoru wonders if he should just offer you cash upfront. But you're receptive, and things go well.

Worryingly well, to be honest. What type of girl are you, exactly? Naughty thing. Get money from a lot of men, do you?

You laugh when he tries to bring it up in bed, "You're one to talk, Mr. can't-promise-exclusivity," you tease, running a hand through his hair while you smile at him.

He likes it when you do that. He likes a lot of things you do.

The real wonder is - although he is absolutely spectacular in bed of course - how much do you like it?

The whole relationship has to happen on his shitty, inconsistent schedule. He can't commit to a relationship or tell you about his job - you're better off that way. Even if you don't know.

Satoru Gojo who pretends to go on dates with other girls sometimes just so that no one watching him thinks he's serious about you. He can't have the Higher Ups thinking of you as a tool to use against him.

He can't even offer you exclusivity. Even if he wants to. Even if he struggles to get it up with those girls - his heart just isn't it in - when he's making sure everyone who's watching him knows you're just one of several people he's having sex with.

After all, the only thing that could be worse than people thinking you were the strongest sorcerer's weakness, was if they thought you might be pregnant with the strongest sorcerer's child.

But if he's fucking around, if he's the whore his so-called superiors make him out to be - then you're safe. Just another girl.

And god, does he take advantage of it.

Texting you late at night. Early in the morning. Times don't mean a lot to him these days.

The most sleep he ever gets is the rare night he spends with you, maybe once or twice a month, five hours in your arms before he pulls himself away and slinks out of bed while you're still asleep like a guilty dog.

He doesn't deserve your warmth or your bed. But he'll take it while you're offering. Eat it all up and beg shamelessly for seconds.

He makes up for it with money, or tries to. Leaves you treats and sweets and other gifts. Spam texts you and facetimes you constantly - when he can.

To be perfectly honest, he's kind of expecting to be dumped any day. He'll take whatever he can get.

If paying your rent or buying you a house makes you feel guilty enough to stay a few days longer with him, that's a good use of his money.

He arranges for you to receive an offer for a remote job, something flexible that will let you meet him whenever he comes calling.

His gifts get more lavish. He's always generous in bed, makes sure you have a good time.

He has a reputation to uphold, after all.

Sometimes he just stares at you when you're asleep. It feels like a waste to spend his precious few hours with you sleeping.

Look at you. All peaceful in his arms. Cuddling up to him.

He can admit, in the dead of night, with no witnesses but himself; the sight makes his heart tug.

If he could, he'd stay. Wake up next to you in the morning. Make breakfast, flirt, joke, maybe even take a little ~morning shower~ and have some fun in there.

It's so clear in his head. How you'd joke back. Smile and giggle and playfully bump against him. Give him a little kiss, a little hug before he leaves for work.

You would kiss his forehead when he got migraines. Hug him when he talks about his difficulties at work.

Your soft smile, your warm lips, your tight hug. It's all so vivid in his head. How you'd look in the morning light, staring at him while you think he's asleep.

Would you stare? What would show on your face, then?

He tries, very hard, not to imagine what your face must look like when you wake up alone every time you sleep with him.

What you think about when he's not there.

Do you wonder if he's with other women? Do you see his flirty texts - "sorry kitten daddy's gotta work late" "babygirl you're not my dad, he goes to bed at 9." - and wonder if he's said that to a hundred other girls?

Because he has. And that's what hurts, really. He could message a hundred girls and get a hundred vapid responses, all those notifications could build up in his phone and he wouldn't care.

But when it's you messaging him?

When you tell him about your day, or text him a picture, or pick up on the rare phone call he gets to make - Satoru's heart skips a beat.

What about you? He thinks about you checking your phone constantly to see anything from him, and it hurts.

You don't show any unhappiness about the arrangement. Every gift, every little arrangement or donation he makes, you accept it all with grace. Everything money can buy is yours, he makes that clear.

As long as you're with him, he'll spoil you rotten. And you were starstruck in the beginning, he could tell.

Expensive hotels, exclusive restaurants. First class flights everywhere, even a private jet if you want it. He brings you custom made jewelry worth more than people make in a year, pulls it out of his pocket and clasps it around your wrist like a passing trinket.

You get used to the constant spa days, the shopping trips. Ordering food for every meal. Living in a city center in a beautiful penthouse with brilliant fixtures. And you're happy like that. At least you look like you are.

But every time he sees you, you're with him. He can't tell if you miss him, if you're sad when he's not there.

He... he sort of doesn't want to know.

Satoru Gojo who loves you. And he hopes to god you don't love him back.

After all, if you did, then you'd want things from him he can't give. Shouldn't give.

But if all you love is his money? He's got tons of it. You can have as much as you want. He can make you happy. He can buy the love he can't afford to earn. He'll never run out of funds.

As long as it's only his money you love, he can have you forever.

[reignpage]

His Loss, Their Gain

Synopsis: in which you get stood up and the jjk men are more than ready to step up for you (pre-relationship) Warnings: a little cursing, vaguely sexual language or allusions, a little angsty, but mostly fluff, crack and comfort, one-sided pining perchance, not proofread Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna Word Count: 3.6k

Gojo

He heard all about your date from Shoko when he took a student to her dark, miserable corner to get all fixed up that morning. To say he was peeved was a massive understatement. In fact, the man had been muttering ‘ooh y/n’s got a date with some non-sorcerer ooh good for her’ under his breath pretty much the entire day. 

The students are both amused and irritated by his constant yammering. 

“I go on loads of date!” He grumbled, flicking a leaf as he leans against a tree, watching the kids spar. “What’s the big deal?”

At lunch, he strolled into the teacher’s lounge and whistled some tune. As always, you were sat by the window enjoying a bento box that made his mouth water — man, what would it be like to enjoy a meal made by you.

Casually, he mused, “I heard through the grapevine, you’ve got a hot date tonight.”

You threw him an unimpressed glower. 

“Who the hell told you about that?”

Satoru shrugged. “Oh, y’know, just the grapevine. So, what’s he like?”

Nonchalant as he may have seemed, he had enough self-awareness to know that he was pretty bothered by how spruced up you’ve gotten for this guy, whoever he is. God, did you have to make your hair all pretty like that? And oh hell, is that a new perfume? 

You didn’t entertain his game, choosing to ignore his thinly veiled attempt to pry, and chose simply to poke his side, tickling him away from the path to the exit he was blocking. The white-haired man rolled his eyes, desperate to quell the smile twitching at the corner of his lips. 

That one interaction, that fleeting touch he never blocked out and that momentary glimpse at your shy smile, smothered the complaints that had been festering inside since he visited Shoko. You looked anxious, embarrassed, but more than anything, excited. Happy.

He was quiet the rest of the day. 

The students didn’t know what to make of his sudden shift in mood; he was contemplative, focused and serious. None of them complained, after all they were finally learning a thing or two but it was an odd sight, him without a smile on his face.

When the sun was lowering, and the students had all headed home, Satoru leisurely exited the school feeling, for reasons he wasn’t ready to acknowledge, more tired than usual. But then he saw you, standing at the gates staring at your phone. Checking his own, he frowned.

You were supposed to be long gone by now. 

When he appeared right beside you, you weren’t the least bit taken aback by his sudden voice. 

“Ugly loser not coming?”

Muttering, you weakly replied, “You’ve never met him. How can you possibly know he’s ugly?”

Satoru threw back a retort that you didn’t respond to. He sighed. With his hands tucked into this pockets, he nudged you. “Alright, stop pouting, let’s go get dinner. I’m starving. God, being a teacher really takes its toll on the body.”

“You barely do anything.” 

Despite yourself, you smiled. 

So did he. 

“Yeah, well, I’m still hungry anyways. So, let’s get going. Your treat.”

And despite his incredibly annoying, pretentious tone, you found yourself walking away from the school, the dwindling warmth of the sun setting behind you, with Satoru. He tried to hide his self-satisfied grin and the slight pep in his steps, and especially the peak under his blindfold at the two shadows you cast. 

For as long as other men sucked, he knew he still had a chance.

Geto

“Got plans?” 

You gave him a side glance, pulling your panties back up your legs. That arrangement of yours was complicated, to say the least. An on and off thing, neither of you could really keep your hands off each other, and all while staying as friends. Of course, the being friends part was easy — he’s fun and you’re sweet. But the staying as friends, and just as friends, was oh so difficult. 

Clearing your throat, you took the bra he was dangling from his finger with a brow raised. And you said, “Yeah. Kinda. Some guy asked me out so we’re gonna get some dinner or something.”

“Sounds exhilarating,” he mused. 

He was always like that — judgemental, mocking, and irresistible. Desperate to not be that weak, pathetic girl, you’d force yourself to move on, to see what else was out there because that thing you had with him?

It was unsustainable. 

With a sigh, you shrugged on your shirt. “Suguru, don’t.”

He chuckled and raised his arms up in surrender. And then you turned to leave but you didn’t get every far, how could you when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to his chest? You were breathless when he brushed your hair back, skimming his lips down the curve of your neck to plant a soft, barely there kiss on your shoulder. 

“Have fun.”

And then you were off. 

Leaving a long-haired man alone and frowning. Truthfully, he was itching to keep you there, to distract you with some more pleasure or a movie, but he knew that wasn’t fair. The unspoken part about the type of arrangement you two was that no one could get jealous or lay some moronic wolfy-claim on the other. 

He focused his attention instead on showering, washing away the remnants of you and even tried to wash away the idea of someone else taking you away. If this date of yours worked out, then that would effectively end your special relationship, devolving back to just ‘friends’. 

How pathetic.

No, that wasn’t the most pathetic thing about the entire ordeal. What was truly more pathetic was that he was sat, in his car, outside your place, waiting for that light in your bedroom to go and for you to leave. 

You didn’t. 

Geto groaned and threw his head back. Relieved as he was that you weren’t with some other prick, he couldn’t shake off that discomfort in his chest at the thought of you being disappointed, embarrassed or anywhere close to sad. He sent a quick text to you. Come out, he said. 

Your reply was, I’m not in the mood for sex.

Good. Neither am I.

'...' danced on the screen for a solid minute or two and he thought you were coming up with colourful ways of telling him to disappear, like 'walk off a cliff' or the classic 'fuck off', but you didn’t. Instead, he got a thumbs up and he sighed. 

Guess neither of you were willing to give up the game after all. 

Choso

He heard it from his brother. 

Who heard it from Megumi and he in turn heard it from Nobara. And the details might have differed somewhat as the information got passed along, like the time and place and with whom, but one thing remained consistent. 

You have a date. 

And man, was Choso distraught. At first, he was speechless, eyes blinking and jaw hanging. Then, he was making odd noises like steam was coming out of his ears. No one knew what to do, no one had ever taught them what the procedure was when a half-curse, half-man suffered from a nervous breakdown.

Eventually, he regained enough life to splutter, “WHAT?”

He fainted.

When he awoke, laid down on a bench, he was very surprised to find you looming over him. You looked beautiful. Positively stunning, and he was certainly stunned. He had a terrible dream, one that left him trembling, but your laughter stilled his shaking hands. 

“Choso, did you actually pass out? That’s so crazy.” 

The man couldn’t even blush. He was just so happy you were there, with him, talking and laughing, and he could pretend nothing was wrong in the world. Because, if you could smile at him with so much warmth and light and familiarity, there didn’t seem a plausible way for things to be wrong.

Pushing himself upright, he said, sheepishly, “Yeah, I think so. Um, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, y’know, just stopping by to check up on you –”

“That’s really nice of—”

“Before I head off to meet my date!”

"...what.”

You blinked at him. “I have a date. Surprised you didn’t know since the kids have been bothering me about it all day. Well, anyways, happy to see you figuratively back on your feet. Gotta get going now. Bye!”

And then you were gone, completely oblivious to the twitching of Choso’s eye and the way his pigtails quite literally deflated. 

There was a pout on his face the rest of the day. 

Only on his way back home did that pout disappear because, there, at the end of the street, was you. Only you could look that pretty when miserable. Oh, he was so happy to see you! 

Sure, you looked upset, and you were kicking a streetlamp, but he wasn’t the least bit discouraged from skipping over to you, pigtails swinging and a big, wide grin on his face. He shouted your name. You looked up, still mad, but brows relaxing ever so slightly. 

“Oh, hey, Cho. What’s up?”

“Nothing! Just heading home. What about you?”

You shrugged. “Well, I was supposed to be on a date, but he never showed up. Didn’t even text me so I guess I’m gonna head home too.”

“Oh, no. That’s terrible.”

The amused look on your face clearly conveyed your disbelief. Choso was many things, a great man, loving brother, fun friend. But a convincing liar? He was not. 

“Well,” he began, scratching the back of his neck, “do you wanna just be with me? I mean! Do you want to spend some time with me? Hang out?”

You shrugged again, this time with a smile. And the both of you began walking side by side with no particular destination. He didn’t talk much, just wandered the streets with you. The sun, or at least what remained of it, was warm and the roads were empty. Neither of you could think of a better thing to do than just exist. 

Together.

Toji

“Whatd’ya just say?”

He was staring at his kid, the little boy peering back at him with a look of pure innocence. The father, holding a spoon up to his lips, was pissed the hell off. Immediately, he was calling you, still feeding the baby. Your nonchalant voice on the phone made him even more irritated. 

“Ya going on a date? Whatd’ya mean ‘none of y’r business? ‘Course it’s my business. Mother of my son prancing around with some other guy ain’t a good look on me, is it? Oh, yeah yeah, the divorce didn’t look good on you either, whatever. So? Is it true? Oh, hell. Can I use my veto? Whatd’ya mean I don't get a veto? What kinda bullshit is that?”

The little boy blabbered, rubbing salt in the man’s wound, as he reminded him his diaper needed changing, immediately, and he had blueberry compote all over his face and clothes. How the hell did the kid manage to get food on the window?

You didn't sound impressed at all, but that was always how you talked to him. And the conversation wasn't going anywhere, much to Toji's frustration. Why did he have to find out from a toddler?

Call ending soon after that, the two boys decided to make the most of their day together. 

Sat on his lap, they watched a football game on the TV. Of course, his son wasn’t really paying attention, he was far more interested in the rattling toy in his hand, and in all honesty, neither was Toji. He just kept thinking about the fact that you should be there, with them, cuddled up to his side. Not with some fucking loser. You should be home, comfortable, looking pretty for him and with a ring still on your finger, the way his ring remained on his. 

But who was he to say shit?

It was his damn fault to begin with that you were living apart. If only he had cut back on the bad habits and the dangerous jobs. Regret was a damned thing, like a coin dropped in a well and never hearing it drop. 

And then searching for another coin so you could wish to get back the fucking coin you should have never dropped to begin with ‘cause you weren’t a fucking pussy. 

Ah fuck it. 

“Wanna go piss off y’r mum?”

The kid grinned. 

And so there the two were, showing up at the door, both with shit-eating grins contrasting your stern glower. You were in a dress, a very sexy dress and Toji wasn’t shy about letting his eyes wander, and you weren’t shy about the finger you showed him. 

“Are you kidding, Fushiguro?”

“Kid couldn’t stop asking for ya, so just wanted to let him get a peek before you go off on y’r fancy date,” he replied. 

You let them in and with embarrassment lacing your words, you admitted, “Well, date’s cancelled. So, good timing.”

Grin widening, he assured you, “Ah the bastard doesn’t know what he missed out on.”

And soon, you two fell into old routines. You cooked dinner whilst Toji set the table, kid on his back. The conversation shifted from anything and everything and nothing. And after, he cleaned up as you put the baby to sleep. He followed soon after, looping an arm over your shoulder.

“We did good with him, didn’t we?”

When life was that easy, that simple, and good, one was left wondering where did it all go wrong? When did you, or him, or both start wanting more? Or was it the case that things just didn’t work out? Was there still a chance? Should there be? And for whose sake?

Guess none of that mattered. Whether that piece of paper was still there or not, the core of your relationship would never change. Not really.

“Yeah. We did.”

Nanami

There you were, a vision in your suit, sitting at your desk, the way you did every day. He loved his seat; he had the best view of the entire office. Kento especially loved that, for you to get to the water cooler, you had to walk past him, and every single time you did, you’d always stop by, asking how his day was going and whether he’d like his water bottle filling up. 

Of course, he declined your very kind offer, but only so he could walk to the water cooler with you, and for the five minutes you two had, you’d chat about all sorts of things – he was more of a listener than a talker, but you never seemed to mind. 

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that you were the one good thing about this office, and he certainly looked forward to every little interaction with you. 

Until one such interaction became his worst nightmare: you had a date. Oh, and how casually you brought that up to him, as if the fluttery atmosphere between you was a figment of his imagination and the way you gushed about this other man certainly left no doubt in his mind. 

You did not like him the way he liked you. 

That was all he could think about the rest of the day. Even as he wrote up a progress report, attended a client meeting, ate his lunch with the interns he was in charge of, and even when he went to the bathroom to splash cold water on, what he was only then realising to be, a very pale face. Kento must be coming down with something. 

For the first time ever, when you got up from your desk and strolled over to his, heels clacking, and asked if he’d like his bottle filling up, he declined. It came out faster than he could process and the shock evident in both of your faces was like a crack in his glasses. 

Oh, dear. 

You were silent until the end of the day. He didn’t walk out with you, didn’t even get to say goodbye and ‘see you tomorrow’, and he had never been more miserable in his entire life. 

With a heavy sigh, he walked out of the office an hour or so later than everyone else and pulled on his tie. A nice warm bath was all he could think about, at least until he spotted you, waiting on the side of the road. You were restless, shuffling on your feet and checking your watch every couple seconds. Being of above average intelligence might not have meant he was a genius but it sure did mean he was smart enough to figure out what had happened. 

That bastard. 

“Would you like to have a drink or two with me? There are some things I’d like to talk to you about,” he said. Perhaps he shouldn’t have walked up so quietly but it was a habit of his. In that moment, as his pulse was beginning to speed up, all he could think about was how creepy he sounded – he certainly wouldn’t blame you if you ran to HR. 

“What things?” You asked. 

He smiled, a desperately casual smile to show he was sorry for his cold display. “Well, for one, I’d like to make my case clear; I’d never leave you waiting for me on a date.”

And he never did.

Sukuna

“Repeat that for me. Slow.”

You bit your lip, not at all surprised by his reaction. The King of Curses wasn’t known for his calm disposition, in fact, he was known for exactly the opposite. Still, he was nice to you, an ordinary servant in his grand estate doing this and that. One could not put a finger to exactly when this...friendship, should we say... developed but it was one you so terribly cherished. 

Working at the estate of a mass murdering, sadistic monster – your family’s words, not yours – meant you didn’t maintain many friendships. So, to have one with him felt like standing in the eye of the storm, even if that storm was always so fickle and the eye kept moving. 

“I’m. Going. On. A. Date,” you recited, enunciating every syllable loud and clear. When he gave an instruction, you’d found it was always best to be quite literal, lest he tired of your mortal limitations. 

“No.”

Blink. 

Blink. 

Adjusting your robes, you clarified, “No? Sorry, my Lord, but whatever do you mean by ‘no?’”

The tall, hulking man, or rather curse, walked on, his long legs taking him so far within seconds you had to run to catch up. He loved doing that. He thought it funny, you supposed. “Just that. No.”

“But, my Lord, I don’t think you can really interfere with my personal life.”

He stopped. 

You bumped into his back, the smell of sweet death and gentle fire filling your senses. And when he turned, looking down at you with all those eyes, one of his hands gripped your jaw, pulling you upwards and much closer to his face than ever before. 

“Can’t I?”

Then he was gone. 

You didn’t see him the rest of the day. Neither did any of the servants. Perhaps he was mad at you, after all you had no business, and no authority at that, to tell him what he could or couldn’t do. You got complacent, too confident and cocky. You overestimated the depth of your friendship and the limits of his patience. It would be a surprise to no one if you were found dead before dusk. 

There were no texts from your date. Not a single one. Not even after you texted to ask if you were still on for night. And when every call when to voicemail, you were so sure you had been ghosted before you could even meet the guy. Sukuna was right. 

Men were no good.

Living at the estate had its perks: no commute, easy access to your necessities lest you forgot something essential, and the walk over to your quarters was magnificent. The well-kept garden was beautiful and that was really as far as your feeble mind could go in terms of putting into words the glorious sight you saw every morning and night. 

But that evening had been different. 

Your master was there, in his robes, bottom set of arms tucked into the sleeves whilst the top set were crossed. He looked just as regal as he always did, and the sight made your heart clench. One secret you’d take the grave would be that the friendship you so sincerely cherished was one you also sincerely resented; to be a teased with all that you could have but would never get was a torturous pain you wouldn't wish on your worst enemies.

“My Lord, may I help you?”

He beckoned you over. When his hand reached for your head, you were sure it was to slice it clean off, but instead he picked at a fluff and flicked it away with so much disgust, revulsion, and abhorrence you couldn’t help but laugh. 

Something flashed in his eyes. And then his features softened. 

“You did not go on your date?”

You couldn’t even pretend to be sad. “No, he never replied so I guess he lost interest.”

He hummed.

The two of you began strolling again, just as you did most days, sometimes even multiple times a day when he was feeling especially irritable. The tone of his voice held a certain sharpness you couldn’t quite place and when he met your gaze, the soft glow of the lanterns making him look gentler, much more human, more...attainable, you finally spotted a speckle of what you knew to be blood, having cleaned it off the floors and walls yourself too many times. 

And your imagination ran wild, a frenzy of butterflies appearing in your stomach. 

Sukuna really was too sweet for your own good.

[undiagnosedcruelty]

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"Pretty Crybaby"

Summary: Hyunjin loves nothing more than breaking you down piece by piece—until you're a sobbing little mess begging him to ruin you.

Pairing: dom!hyunjin x afab!reader MINORS DNI

Genre: smut. just pure smut.

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Tags/Warnings: dom!Hyunjin, bondage, blindfolds, edging, overstimulation, unprotected sex, choking, degradation, praise kink, orgasm control, dacryphilia (crying kink), mild humiliation, soft aftercare, slight dumbification, multiple orgasms, breeding kink if you squint (I might’ve missed something)

Word Count: 2k

A/N: it’s midnight and I have no idea what possessed me to write this.

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WRITTEN FANFIC IS PURELY FICTION──DOES NOT DIRECTLY RELATE TO REALITY.

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The silk blindfold is tight around your eyes. Soft enough to feel expensive, but snug enough to make your lashes flutter against the fabric.

You can’t see him.

You can’t touch him either—wrists bound behind your back with the same silk scarf he’d been carrying in his pocket all night, like he’d planned this from the second he laid eyes on you.

Maybe he had.

Hyunjin’s always been patient with you. Too patient. He likes to drag things out until you’re sobbing, shaking, begging for him to finally give you what you need. Gets off on breaking you down slowly, piece by piece, until you’re nothing but a pretty little mess crying into the sheets for him.

It’s been hours.

He’s edged you three times already, leaving you spread out on the bed, soaked and trembling, while he played with you at his own cruel pace.

Ice dragged down your stomach. Fingertips brushing along your inner thighs without ever dipping inside. Open-mouthed kisses pressed to your neck, your nipples, the soft curve of your hips—everywhere except where you needed him most.

You’re wrecked.

Tears streak down your flushed cheeks. Slick drips down your thighs onto the sheets. Your cunt clenches around nothing, empty and throbbing, every nerve in your body burning from how long he’s kept you on the edge without letting you fall.

And he loves it.

“You’re shaking, baby.”

His voice is low, teasing—like this isn’t the third time he’s edged you tonight. Like you’re not seconds away from completely falling apart.

“It’s too much,” you whimper, voice cracking.

Hyunjin clicks his tongue, dragging the melting ice cube down your stomach, stopping just before your aching cunt.

“It’s not enough.” The sound that slips from your throat is more sob than moan.

Your hips lift automatically, chasing the cold sting, but he presses you back down into the mattress with one big hand splayed across your stomach.

“Stay still.” You obey—because you always do. Because he’s trained you so perfectly.

“You made such a mess for me, baby.” His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, catching the trembling little pout you can’t control. “All this just from me teasing you… aren’t you embarrassed?”

You should be.

You’re soaked, dripping onto the sheets, and he hasn’t even touched your pussy properly yet.

But you’re too far gone to feel ashamed.

Hyunjin smirks like he knows exactly how fucked-out and desperate you are. “Don’t hide from me.”

His fingers curl under your chin, tilting your face toward him even though you can’t see him.

“I want to see how needy you get when you’re falling apart for me.”

The first tear slips down your cheek without warning—hot and wet against your flushed skin—and he groans like it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

“Fuck…”

He swipes it away with his thumb before licking it straight off his finger.

“My pretty little crybaby.”

Your whole body shudders beneath him, a broken whimper slipping from your lips.

You shouldn’t like it—the humiliation, the way he teases you until you’re crying for him—but your cunt clenches at the pet name, slick dripping onto the sheets beneath you.

He sees it. Of course he fucking sees it.

“You like that?” His fingers trail down, brushing over your soaked slit without ever dipping inside. “You like crying for me?”

“Yes,” you sob, too wrecked to feel embarrassed by how pathetic you sound.

He chuckles, fingers slipping lower, teasing your clit with slow, lazy circles.

“Such a filthy little thing.”

Your hips buck against his hand, chasing the friction, but he pulls away just as quickly, leaving you throbbing and empty.

You whimper, high and broken, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. Hyunjin moans at the sound. “God… you’re so fucking pretty when you cry.”

His hand wraps loosely around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. “You want to come, baby?”

“Yes—please—”

He tightens his grip, cutting off your next breath until you’re lightheaded and dizzy beneath him. “Then ride.”

He drags you up onto his thigh, forcing you to grind your soaked cunt against the hard muscle beneath the rough fabric of his sweatpants.

It’s filthy, wet, sticky sounds filling the room, but you don’t even care how pathetic you look. You’re too far gone, chasing the friction like a dumb little toy.

“That’s it.” His breath is hot against your ear. “Use me, princess. Make yourself come for me.”

You’re already close, too sensitive from how long he’s been teasing you, but he makes you work for it. His hand stays wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head swim. The other grips your hip, guiding your rhythm slow and deep.

You can’t stop the little sob that slips from your throat—fresh tears streaking down your face—and Hyunjin smirks. “You gonna cry for me again?”

You nod helplessly, hips stuttering.

“So pathetic.” His hand tightens around your throat, making you lightheaded. “My filthy little crybaby.”

The pet name makes your whole body jolt, cunt clenching hard, slick dripping down onto his thigh—but he stops you with one hand buried in your hair, yanking your head back. “Not yet.”

You sob openly, body trembling in his lap, but Hyunjin just chuckles darkly, licking your tears straight off your flushed cheeks. “You don’t come until I tell you to.”

By the time he finally lays you back down on the bed, you’re shaking so hard you can barely breathe.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me, baby.” His fingers brush damp hair away from your face, voice soft again—like he hadn’t just spent hours breaking you into pieces.“You deserve a reward, don’t you?”

Your head bobs frantically, fresh tears clinging to your lashes. “Yes—please—”

He kisses the words right off your tongue, messy and desperate, before finally pushing inside you with one slow, aching thrust.

You scream, back arching off the mattress.

You’re so fucking wet, he slides in all the way to the hilt—splitting you open, filling you up until you’re sobbing into the pillow beneath you.

“Shh…” Hyunjin catches your chin between his fingers, forcing you to face him even through the blindfold. “Take it, baby.”

His hips roll slow, dragging his cock out inch by inch before slamming back in, deep, bruising thrusts that make your whole body jerk beneath him.

“You wanted this, didn’t you?” You sob brokenly, nails digging into your bound wrists behind your back.

“You begged me for it.” He snaps his hips harder, grinding deep—punching little gasping sobs out of your throat with every thrust. “You wanted me to ruin you.”

You’re already close, so overstimulated you’re shaking beneath him, but he wraps one big hand around your throat again, cutting off your next breath. “Not yet.”

You actually cry, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks, but Hyunjin just groans, licking them straight off your face like he’s starving for the taste of you. “My perfect little crybaby.”

His thumb rubs slow circles over your clit, dragging out the pleasure until you’re trembling, sobbing, so close you can taste it—still waiting for him to give you permission.

“Come when I tell you to.” You’re shaking, convulsing beneath him, but Hyunjin just smirks, bouncing his hips harder, fucking you right to the edge.

“That’s my good girl.” His lips brush against your ear, soft, teasing, before his voice drops to a low, dangerous whisper. “Come for me, crybaby.”

You shatter beneath him—legs trembling, back arching, soaking him with a broken sob as the pleasure finally crashes over you.

Hyunjin fucks you through it, chasing his own release, eyes locked on your wrecked, tear-streaked face.

“Fuck…” He groans, hips stuttering as he spills deep inside you—filling you up, leaving you messy and dripping.

By the time it’s over, you’re trembling, thighs slick with your own release, lashes wet with tears that won’t stop falling.

Hyunjin should give you a break.

Should untie your wrists.

Should kiss your sore little pussy and tell you what a good girl you were.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he grins—slow and lazy—like the wrecked little mess you’ve become is the hottest thing he’s ever seen. “Still crying, baby?”

You whimper, wrecked and ruined. His fingers slide down between your legs, teasing your swollen clit.

“I’m not done with you yet.” Hyunjin’s fingers circle your swollen clit, featherlight, teasing, just enough to make your overstimulated body twitch beneath him.

You flinch, a broken sob spilling from your lips.

“Sensitive, baby?” he coos, mock sympathy lacing his voice. His thumb presses down harder, making you jolt.

“You can take it.” You know you can—because he’s made sure of it.

“You wanted to be my good girl, didn’t you?” His free hand grips your bound wrists, pulling them higher above your head, pinning you down. “Good girls let me use them however I want.”

You whimper, legs shaking, body too wrecked to fight him off—not that you’d ever want to.

His cock is still buried deep inside you, thick and heavy, stretching you wide. Every little movement makes your cunt flutter around him, milking him even though you’re too sensitive to bear it.

“Look at you.” He groans low, watching the way your body trembles beneath him. “Crying like a little slut… but your pussy’s still sucking me in.”

You sob, cheeks flushed hot with shame but your walls clench tighter around him, proving him right.

Hyunjin smirks. “Filthy.”

His fingers pick up their pace, rubbing slow, cruel circles against your clit. The pleasure is too much—sharp and overwhelming, making your thighs twitch and your stomach clench.

“I can’t,” you choke out, voice cracking.

“You can.” His hand wraps around your throat again, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. “You will.”

The pressure makes your cunt clamp down around him, fresh tears streaking down your flushed cheeks. He moans at the sight—like the wrecked, crying mess beneath him is the hottest thing he’s ever seen. “My perfect little crybaby.”

You sob openly, body arching into his touch, completely broken for him, and he fucking loves it.

“You wanna come again?” You nod frantically, hips bucking into his hand without permission. “Please… please-“

His grip on your throat tightens, cutting off your next breath. “Beg.”

You’re already sobbing, barely able to form words, but you try anyway──pathetic little gasps falling from your lips. “Please, Hyunjin—need it—please—”

He leans down, lips brushing hot against your ear. “Such a good little whore when you’re crying for me.”

His thumb presses harder against your clit, circling faster and pushing you right to the edge, holding you there. “You wanna come?”

You nod desperately, body trembling beneath him.

“Then do it.” His hand tightens around your throat, cutting off your air completely, forcing you to shatter for him.

You come with a broken sob, back arching off the mattress, thighs shaking as the pleasure crashes through you—wet and messy, soaking his cock as he fucks you through it.

Hyunjin groans, hips snapping harder, dragging it out until you’re nothing but a shaking, crying mess beneath him. “Fuck—”

He buries himself deep, spilling inside you again, filling you up until you’re dripping—cum leaking out around his cock, mixing with your own release.

By the time he finally lets you breathe, you’re wrecked. Body trembling, face streaked with tears, completely broken for him.

Hyunjin strokes your hair back from your damp forehead, voice soft again—like he hadn’t just spent hours ruining you. “You did so good, baby.”

His lips brush gentle kisses over your tear-streaked cheeks, down to your swollen lips. “My pretty little crybaby.”

You whimper softly, too wrecked to respond.

He finally unties your wrists, massaging the red marks into your sore skin before pulling you into his arms. “You can cry all you want now, princess.” His lips press against your temple, voice low and soothing.

“I’ll take care of you.” And he does.

Cleaning you up. Kissing every sore inch of your body. Whispering soft praise into your hair until you’re nothing but a warm, pliant mess in his arms.

But even as he soothes you, there’s that familiar smirk tugging at his lips—like he’s already planning how to break you all over again.

[kingkaisen]

“Nanamiii, guess what?” Satoru’s face didn’t have its usual casual smirk upon it, but instead, a big grin of excitement.

As he walked into the faculty lounge room of Jujutsu High, he sat down in the chair across from Kento, but that simply wasn’t close enough. The beaming man got up and collapsed on the couch, sinking the spot next to his friend.

“What is it? Why are you so excited?” The blonde-haired man folded the newspaper he was reading and looked over at his blindfolded friend.

“Remember that woman I was telling you about? Y/N?”

Kento’s brows furrowed slightly in concern. “Yes, why?”

“Well,” Satoru’s cheeky grin widened, and a subtle shade of pink dusted across his cheeks. “I kissed her yesterday. It was a long one too, passionate, you know what I mean? God, she’s amazing. I know it’s too soon, but I really think I’ve met the one.”

“Really?” Kento’s previously furrowed brows now rose in surprise. “And does she know who you really are? And what you do for a living?”

“Why are you such a buzzkill? That’s not important right now.”

“Satoru,” Kento sighed, removing his glasses. “You spend every second of every day talking about her. Even you admit that you’re in love. How can you not tell her about curses and the jujutsu society? She might be impressed to know that you are the world’s strongest sorcerer. I’m curious to know why you haven’t been honest with her about any of it yet.”

When the former salaryman finished speaking, his words were met with silence. The couch cushions gave a low squeak as Kento sat up a bit, turning to better look at Satoru, who was no longer smiling.

His lips were downturned into a small pout. Though his blue eyes were hidden underneath his blindfold, Kento was certain that the other man was staring a hole into the nearest wall.

“Have you ever been in love?” Satoru suddenly asked.

“No.”

“Then you wouldn’t get it,” Satoru paused. “She’s a normal person. She likes to watch TV . . . likes to read. We go on dates to her favorite restaurant. One of her biggest worries right now is whether or not her pet is getting sick of their current food and wants to switch it out. My point is that she’s happy, and I don’t wanna ruin it all by telling her that curses are a thing and it's my job to kill ‘em.”

“You hardly know the girl and can’t be honest with her at the end of the day.” Kento’s words were cold, and yet, truthful as well. As he spoke, he glanced down at his watch, adjusting it pointlessly.

“No matter what your excuse is, you’re being dishonest with her. Your relationship is being built on a pack of lies.”

“And why do you care? It’s my relationship.”

“Because I want her to be happy,” Kento mumbled.

“Huh?” Satoru looked away from the wall. Now, he was staring a hole into Kento. “What did you say?”

This time, the blonde-haired man was the one who looked in the other direction, unable to face his friend.

Kento’s throat was dry. What was he thinking?

He had gone weeks without confessing his biggest secret — that he was an old lover of yours — and he dealt with the gnawing jealousy that came with listening to Satoru talk about loving the same woman he used to kiss and hold.

But he sucked it up. Kept his mouth shut.

Perhaps, Satoru wouldn’t have minded knowing that he was falling for a woman who once dated his friend. Who knew?

You were all adults, after all, and such gossipy topics weren’t as important in the grand scheme of things.

And with that thought, it became quite clear to himself why he hadn’t said a word. It was because it was more than just a past relationship; he was still madly in love with you.

“Because I want you to be happy,” Kento spoke up, changing his sentence, his heart pounding rapidly as he silently prayed that Satoru hadn’t heard his words from earlier. “I don’t want to see you end up with a broken heart if she somehow finds out the truth and decides to leave you because you were lying to her.”

Satoru turned away from him, lowering his head.

“What if she leaves me?”

The white-haired sorcerer’s words were spoken in a fearful, sad tone that Kento hadn’t ever heard from the man before now.

It was shocking.

Shocking enough to make him forget his little moment of relief over knowing Satoru hadn’t heard what he said earlier.

“She won’t,” Kento said comfortingly. “If she leaves you, it’ll be because you broke her trust, not because you’re a sorcerer. The longer you wait to tell her, the worse your chances become. Trust me.”

Satoru sighed.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience, huh? Call me crazy, but I’m willing to bet you’ve loved someone before, right? You said no when I asked you earlier, but I just don’t believe you.” He gently elbowed Kento’s arm. “C’mon, you can tell me.”

“Well, if you must know, yes. I loved someone once. It didn’t end well.”

“Why not?”

“I was a different man at the time. All I cared about was money and work.”

“What was she like?”

Right now, Kento wanted to be anywhere but here. He would have preferred being trapped in a curse spirit’s domain than sitting on a couch, having this conversation with Satoru.

“I know how . . . how cheesy this sounds, but she used to have this smile like no other. It was beautiful. It was the sort of smile that makes you feel as if everything in life will be alright. I haven’t seen her in a while, and I worry that someday, I will forget what her smile looked like . . . But I don’t think I could ever forget how it made me feel. How she made me feel.” Kento’s heart ached so painfully inside of his chest. “Anyway, I know she’s happy now. I just hate that it’s without me.”

A few seconds of silence passed, nothing to be heard except for the nearby wall clock ticking.

“Right.” Satoru pushed himself off of the couch. “Well, I better get going now. I’m gonna gather my thoughts and figure out how to break the truth to her before it’s too late. Last thing I wanna do is lose a woman like Y/N . . . but you understand that, don’t you, Nanami?”

Kento’s eyes widened. He looked up in Satoru’s direction, but the other man continued to stroll o towards the door.

“I promise that I’ll treat her well, so don’t worry, alright? I’ll make sure she continues to be happy.”

🏷️: @sad-darksoul @priv-rose @yihona-san06 @keriaonmarz @luvvmae @underworldsheiress @notgoodforlife @thewondrousdreamer @levisfavoriteteashop @insomniacbehaivour @preciousamethyst @irisveinn @iwanttohitmyself @shoyosdoll @lil-apple-pie @prettypixigrl @sonarspace @averysmolbear @starstoru @starlightanyaaa @dolphin1135 @starlitsawamura @ioveartfilm @filhadaanarquia @lillyxlillian @blackdxggr @jaegergirl @gunslxtz

[hoshigray]

hello, lovely! is it okay to request a short fic wherein gojo’s pregnant wife (y/n) stole his kikufuku? thank u! (missing soft gojo hours 😭)

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg stoooop this is so cute and sweet, what!?

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x pregnant afab/fem! reader - tooth-rotting fluff - pet names (angel, baby, stars and moon, sweetheart) - Gojo being a big crybaby over sweets - so soft, i was smiling while writing, hehe~.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k

THUD!

“…!” You jolt, immediately looking to the entrance of the living room to see your husband. “Gojo! You okay?”

The white-haired man stands still with a gawked expression, eyes covered by his black blindfold with his usual Jujutsu Tech attire, and you can assume the noise came from the souvenir bags he dropped to the floor.

“…Y/n, my angelic stars and moon,” he finally speaks after a few seconds of silence, and you can see his lips quiver with trembling hands. “Is…Is that my last kikufuku?” 

If there is one thing Gojo loved more than anything other than you, it would be his undying love for sweets! You could never find him without any at his disposal; he’d have a bunch of lollipops in his pockets, be licking popsicles or soft serves while monitoring his first years during their missions, or typically stop by a café and grab some crepes for dessert to take home and share with you. He’s known to have a childish heart, and sweets are his weakness!

His all-time favorite would be the mochi delicacy he often gets during his mission trips to Sendai, and he’s always sure to buy a whole box worth to make the long trip up North worth it. Kikufuku, the crushed edamame and cream-filled mochi, is Gojo’s favorite sweet to eat — you’re a witness to him happily stuffing his face with them lying on the couch after a hard day’s work. He’s the type to eat one every week until he can return to Sendai and get more. 

This week was the very last one he had saved, secured in the cold fridge for him to eat once he got home. And he wasn’t going to Sendai anytime soon, so he planned on treasuring and savoring it the moment he stepped inside and lay beside his pregnant partner to chill on this blissful spring evening.

He could never get over the sight of you whenever he came home. Gojo loved his partner so much that he swears he would burn the world if you commanded him to, which you knew is an exaggeration, but his love is true. The day he got on one knee and heard you say yes to his proposal was the happiest he’d ever been, sweeping you off your feet, putting you in your dream puffy white dress, and officially becoming the spouse of the strongest sorcerer in the jujutsu world! And now you were swole with his child!? Not even God could strike this man to calm him down of his glee.

You were sitting on the living room couch like you always did, waiting for your husband to return, wearing a black maternity one-piece that comfortably molded around your figure and a blue flannel shirt – his flannel – to keep you warm. Gojo came home with souvenirs to share and impress, a huge smile just from thinking about your reactions. 

However, the sight has him gasp dramatically loud and drop everything to the wooden floor, because he saw something in your hand, something that broke his heart noticing the green and white filling apparent from a bite on an undeniable white rice cake. 

You were eating the very last of his kikufuku…How could you!?

You blinked at him, then turned to the sweet in your hand, and the realization of what you were doing finally hit you. “Oh! I’m sorry, Satoru! I was feeling snacky.”

The tall man teeters to where you’re sitting, whining with every step. “So why didn’t you eat your snacks, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know?” You shrugged, licking bits of the edamame cream off your middle finger. “They didn’t seem like what I was craving for. I wanted something sweet, ya know? And I finished my ice cream two nights ago, so this was all I could find.”

“Yeah, but like,” you can tell his eyebrows were scrunched together even if the black material concealed his upper face. “That was my last one, baby! Plus, you could’ve texted me you’d eat it, or I could’ve stopped somewhere to grab you something sweet!”

“I know! But, you were very busy today; a big mission up in Kyoto and a meeting with Principal Yaga, sooo…” you squished the mochi gently, licking more of the filling coming out. “I didn’t wanna interrupt or bother you…”

“But stilllll~!”God, you were so cute when you cared for him, you almost made him forget the whole thing then and there. But you can’t hate the man for being a little upset, right? Gojo sighs and places his cheek on your belly. “Little booger, you hear what your momma is doing to me? So cruel~.”

You gasped. “Hey! Don’t say that to them!” Your free hand tries to yank him off your tummy by the hair, yet he doesn’t budge as he exclaims painfully. “What, are you saying the pregnant love of your life is some villain because they ate one of your sweets? As if I never caught you taking scoops of my favorite ice cream!? Have you no shame, Gojo Satoru!”

He swats your hand off his snowy hair, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Between you and Principal Yaga, there is a scarce few Gojo would allow to beat him up for his foolishness. He turns his head – still above the baby – to face you and releases a sigh. “I’m sorry, I was just really stoked I’d get to have that kikufuku; it’ll be a long while before I go get more…Ughhh.” Another sigh is exerted, and you can only shake your head with rolled eyes. He’s such a baby.

You bring his blindfold down to his chin to free the azure eyes he’s been hiding since this morning, and his hair falls from its spiky appearance. Then, you separate the mochi into two and push one to his lips, “You happy now?” You say with a grin. “I’m sorry, but I wanted to give these a try. Besides, we’ll have a little one to look after soon; wouldn’t it be nice for them to know what their father likes to snack on from time to time?”

Now, how in the world could Gojo still be upset with that logic? Being a father is a foreign concept he’s accepting with open arms, sharing the experience with the person he values and cherishes the most. To have a child with you is the highest honor of all for him. And imagining his small family happy and eating sweets together under his care makes his cheeks show a subtle shade of pink.

He smiles as he accepts the piece of the rice cake, chuckling when you flick his nose playfully. “You’re so sweet, angel.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[baepsays]

A FINE LINE BETWEEN LUST AND LOATHE ★ ⸻ Gojo Satoru.

cw⸻★ NSFW, MDNI, dark content, HATE SEX!!! they actually hate e/o, but it's also just that it's the tension, they cannot come to terms with the fact they want to fuck someone so wildly not their type, fem reader, no pronouns, fem anatomy, drunk sex, so ig dub-con/non-con, name calling, oral sex (f! and m! receiving), head pusher Gojo, hair pulling, more spit stuff cause I said so, raw dogging, no missionary cause that'd make it too real and they'd explode, bro cums inside her without warning, he is lowkey an asshole, but reader is also provoking him any chance they get, hashtag on my period so like every month you get your freaky stuff.

a/n: enjoyyyyy ( or don't I will eat this up myself). based on this mind dump.

If only staring at Gojo Satoru hard enough made him disappear from your sight. And if only side eyeing you from across the room made you disappear from his sight. Either of you wanted nothing more than each other's existence coming to an end.

But unfortunately the universe was against your respective enjoyment of sanity and pleasure.

It has been almost sixteen years since you've known each other. Yet not a day goes by where you don't think of resigning just to not see him everyday. And Satoru makes sure to go out of his way to stay flooded in work just to avoid being in the same space as you.

But every time he happens to open his mouth, or flash those shiny teeth; or when you intentionally stop talking when he slips into the room, or when you roll your eyes at him, it ticks you guys off.

And what's worse is sitting here right now, basically pushed together, by Shoko to your left and Suguru to his right. Why were you guys sitting beside each other anyway? Couldn't he have been early for once in his life and just taken a seat anywhere! Anywhere, but here.

So how to deal with his overwhelmingly stuffy cologne infiltrating your nostrils, like the thought of him infiltrating your mind and making your blood boil?—The answer is given in all the alcohol on the table in front of you. If you have to tolerate a work dinner with Gojo, you might as well just get drunk. And it seems like maybe he had the same plans. Or maybe it was just you trying to annoy the wannabe cool guy out of him.

"Hah. That's all you can drink? And you call yourself the strongest?" The third glass was getting to your head. Clearly.

“You're clearly drunk out of your mind.” His eyes narrowed at you upon being suddenly addressed by you. It's never often that you directly speak to him, from your own accordance with that.

“And you're clearly a pussy.” You grinned at him in victory. A sly provoking grin that made his eyes twitch under that blindfold.

“Just say you want me to give you something to fawn over.” congratulations you've yet again successfully pissed off Gojo Satoru.

Everyone knew that despite being a big brooding man, Gojo Satoru was a lightweight. No shame in that! But there's no meaning in saying that to Gojo, when he has never felt shame in his life. Then why were your words getting to him? One moment he is sipping on half a glass of beer for hours, and the next he is chugging down some concoction of sake and beer mixed together.

You blame him. But you also blame your colleagues/friends, and you also blame the alcohol. Because everyone knew not to go close to Gojo Satoru after he had over half a glass of alcohol. So as usual everyone very tactfully handed his responsibility to you—a lesser drunk individual. Who would probably leave him on the side of the street with a note that says, ‘rob him, he's rich.’ But since you have to constantly prove something to Gojo, for some reason, you couldn't help but take up the responsibility of getting him home in one piece. And it's not like this is the first time you're doing this, just the first time you're both pretty drunk. 

Some people might wonder why would you do that for someone you hate? Because if you do not, the next day he'll just float around you scoffing and annoying you with petty words. So this is just a preemptive measure, yeah! Anything to keep your sanity from further depleting just because Gojo Satoru decided to exist.

The task was simple. Get a taxi, drag Gojo up to his home, enter his very weak passcode, get tempted to dump him in the bathtub, instead just leave him on the cold marble floor. You've done this before. Six times excluding this to be exact. This is nothing new or crazy.

But what's crazy is that how did you end up like this?

Instead of being on your own merry way back home, why are you under Gojo Satoru on his entrance hall floor, kissing him? He is actually kissing you. And you're kissing him back. His lips are quite feverish compared to the rest of him, or maybe it's your own body and face gradually becoming hotter and hotter.

This is suffocating, he is suffocating. The kiss is suffocating. This might just be a dream. No, a nightmare. You have dreamed about this before, you've wished for this for a certain period of time in your life when you were just freshly sixteen maybe, and you had just met Gojo Satoru, after hearing so much about him. It felt like you already knew a part of him, you wanted to know more about him, you wanted to be friends. And maybe something more if fate allowed it. Alas, you didn't know then how disappointing expectations are.

Just thinking about how you used to feel things other than deep, unsettling, and aggravating disdain for Gojo Satoru; it makes your skin crawl. It makes you want to walk into quicksand willingly rather than addressing those thoughts and feelings. Because why would you? They don't exist anymore. Those were fleeting teenage hormones. 

Because if we are being objective here, Gojo is attractive, he has always been so. Everyone agrees upon that. He knows it, the world knows it, unfortunately even you know it. So without knowing anything about him other than his gallant stories and pretty face, it was inevitable to develop a petty crush in him. 

Which he crushed with his own bare hands in mere seconds of being introduced to you. You remember that day very clearly, he called you weak, and some other things along that string. You did tune it all out after that first scoff that came out of his mouth that day, when all you did was extend an enthusiastic hand of friendship and compliments. “pfft. You think a weakling like you knows anything about me?” is what he exactly said that day.

Ever since that day, he has remained the bane of your existence and the perpetual source of agony in your life.

And yet here you are, making out with drunk Gojo Satoru, while being under the influence of alcohol yourself, on his cold marble floors. Dragging your hands through his hair, pulling on it, for support or just maybe to inflict some pain onto him—both very unsure but reasonable possibilities. 

A flicker of conscience flashed through you the moment his other hand—which was not preoccupied with holding his weight off the floor—pressed itself down your waist, when one of your hands, still stuck in the strands of his white hair; dug itself under his blindfold. When your nails scratched his undercut, under his blindfold, his own fingers dug themselves into your flesh.

And it just hit you, what was happening. So you broke off the kiss, pushed him back, and he backed off, as he was caught off guard. He was confused, because if he was not, he would not have given you the chance to break free from his lips or would have let you crawl away from under his body, like you were. 

“Tryin’ to run from what you started sweets?” He dragged you backwards by getting a hold on one of your ankles. It was petrifying. How you were pulled towards him with no resistance, your hands flapped around and just made screeching noises as you tried to latch onto the sleek marble floor. But you were not in control of the situation anymore. There was nothing you could do to stop yourself from being dragged into the lion's den. Because the lion has already dug his teeth in your flesh, and the sweet taste of your flesh and blood is too tempting to set you free now. 

“I thought you were the responsible one between us. Hmm?” He was above you. No, he was caging you. The cold marble floor on the side of your face was not cool enough to calm you down. You felt a shiver running down every hair on your body, when he spoke into the shell of your ear. “Y-you're d-drunk.” 

“Stutterin’ for me now?” His nose nuzzled itself into the back of your neck, and you tried to further dig your face into the floor. Which was futile to say the least. 

“I would fuck ya’ right here. Right now.”

You could only gasp at him. You don't know how to respond to anything he says. It's hard enough to converse with a sober Gojo, for sake of work, so drunk Satoru is very much out of your area of expertise.

“Tell me no.” His breathing started to get heavier, along with his pants. One of his hands pressed you still under him, while the other one pulled the blindfold off his face. The outline of his now hard cock poked your ass, and dare I say it was tempting to not grind back into him. 

“Tell me to fuck off. And I will.” 

You could do that. When the strongest spares you, you take that offer gladly and run for your life. But maybe you lack that will to live, or just simply wanted to be crushed by him. Which one is more fucked up, is a decision for later. Because right now you are nodding yes to this guy, whom you apparently hate with all the fibers in your body. Essentially giving him approval to fuck you.

As drunk as Gojo may be, he at least had the sensibility to pick you up and take you to his bed. Which was massive, I mean he lives quite the comfortable life, he always has. Part of the reason why you made yourself believe where the influx of arrogance came from. But there is no time to ponder about those things, when Gojo Satoru is haphazardly stripping you bare, to then strip down to nothing himself.

“God. Look at ya.” This is not making love with the love of your life. But setting aside your pride to fuck this anomaly you do not understand. So the kissies he peppered along with occasional bites, from your neck down to your cunt—was unwarranted. But then also neither of you are in your right mind.

Gojo Satoru is truly good at everything. Which has always been annoying. It's so annoying how he has you biting down on your lips to contain your moans from slipping out of your throat, as he eats you out like a starved man. He is two knuckles deep in your hole, sucking, biting, and even slapping your clit. Moving his mouth off your cunt to hover over your hole with his tongue out, to let his spit drool out of his mouth, and straight onto your hole being penetrated by his fingers. And all you could do was helplessly pull on his hair to maybe pry him off you, to catch a breather. But it seems like it's easier to get leeches off your body than taking Gojo Satoru off your pussy.

“J-just, get, get on with it.” A slurry of words came out of your mouth along with grunts to conceal the moans, because if you dare moan for this man, there is no way you'll live that down. Does not matter if he doesn't remember it, you'll remember. And that'd be just enough to eat you alive. But it is advisable that you worry more about the man eating you out currently. 

“Ok. Cum for me then.” He says with a flat voice before diving back in, this time shoving his tongue along with his fingers. “I CAN’T JUST DO THAT ON COMMAND!?” 

“Maybe we should train you.” He mumbles while working your pussy, trying to find your spongy spot, to get you exactly where he needed you to be. And when he did get a hold of it, it was over. 

You squirted all over his face. And at the sign of your unearned release, he opened his mouth wide to welcome the taste of your juices on his tongue. And he got more than that, his entire face got drenched. You really never thought you were capable of squirting, neither were you suspecting the man to make you do such obscene things would be Gojo. 

“How sweet.” He lapped his tongue around his lips, as if to gather any leftovers around his mouth. “She speaks to me so nicely. Unlike you.” With one last parting slap on your cunt, he got off you. 

But rest was not what he was trying to give you. He pulled you off the bed, to sit on the edge of the bed himself, and sitting you on his lap. The feeling of his cock under your wet folds and quivering thighs, was not helpful by any means. If you felt the outline of his cock in his pants earlier and got scared, then the real thing under you, skin to skin, throbbing against your heat—was enough to give you a cardiac arrest.

“You'll return the favour right? Don't like owing me, do ya’?” You wish you could slap that smirk off his face. But then again, it was just wishful thinking that got you involved in this situation. But he was not wrong. You did not like to owe anyone anything, especially not Gojo Satoru. You've gone out of your way to get a pack of sticky notes at two am just to not owe him for the single sticky note he gave you during a meeting.

“And how do I do that?” If you found that smirk annoying, then you'd find the obnoxious grin on him aggravating. 

An eye for an eye. And mouth for mouth, I guess?

Trying to give Gojo a blowjob was wildly more difficult than fighting a special grade curse. How do you even wrap your lips around such a massive thing? Sure it's pretty pink, with a blushy tip, and veins running down his girth; but it was mouthful. And Gojo was really no help, it was as if he was getting more drunk by the minute. His eyes were getting glossier, his pupils were more glowy than usual, if his face was flushed then, now it was properly and fully red. And it was as if his hands had a mind of their own, with how they were cradling your head, tangling those fingers in your strands and pushing you down on his length beyond your capacity—he is an asshole. 

“Ya’ can take more right? Hmm? Come onnn, you have taken more hits on the field. Can't just lose against m' cock.” His voice dripped with malice and lack of self control. The guttural grunts coming from him were becoming worse and worse with the vibration of your own groans around him.

But the heavy leaking cock felt so good on your tongue. Sure the choking was inevitable, he is disgustingly huge. Blessed in every area but humility. Because why would he? A huge cock must sustain a huge ego, in his opinion. And that pretty mouth of yours looks so much better stuffed shut with his cock. Why would he trade that for being humble?

“Maybe from now on, I'll just have to stuff your mouth full when you get mouthy at me.” The chuckle after that was meaner than those words itself, if you think about it, but your mind was too fucked to think. Because otherwise maybe Gojo would have to work around a bleeding cock.

But for now he's much content in the tight fit of your throat. Face fucking your teary eyes and heavy tongue, with his hips fully off the bed, and his cock nestled cozy in your throat—this is better than pissing you off to make himself feel things, better than having you shout profanities at him. 

He might be an addict, or maybe you should be deemed illegal. Because how dare you simply exist and mess up his brain? Ever since the day you extended your hand at him, he has not known sanity. This is his full circle moment. Fucking your mouth so well he forgets how much your tongue makes his blood boil.

It was easy to cum down your throat. To feed you his seed, seep a little disgusting part of him in your veins, even if it is biologically not possible, but Gojo would like to think it is. That you are just as much him, as he is now you, and he hopes the thought of it makes you lose sleep. But maybe he'd be the one losing sleep, because the sight of you was lethal. His cum dripping down the side of your mouth, and your throat moving in a rapid up and down motion to swallow him whole. 

He's going to be dreaming about this for the rest of his life.

But there are bigger and better things to tackle, like finally stuffing your cunt with his cock. Because who needs downtime when you are Gojo Satoru about to fuck the cause of half of his migraines. And if it was in his power he would've done it right there at the entrance like he threatened, but he believes in a good build up.

“Wait.” He stopped in his tracks of putting the condom on. You pulled your back off the bed and sat up to look him directly in the eyes. They were still hazy with something unrecognizable.

“Not missionary.”

“Pfft. Right. That's the line you refuse to cross huh?” Despite the deceiving smile on his lips, he looked pissed. After everything that you two have done, that's the line you don't want to cross, what a joke. He knows the feeling inside your pussy, where your weak spots are, the texture of your tongue, the mole above your tailbone and on your waist; but god forbid he looks into your eyes as he thrusts his cock inside you. 

Well, he'll be nice. He'll be nice to you, for once, and grant you this measly wish. 

So with an achy throat and teary eyes, you buried your face in his pillows, as he flipled you over on the mattress without further protest. He did not waste time with easing himself into your hole. He slid himself inside in one go, and ploughed you from behind like it meant business. Every smack of skin slapping, the ripples in your ass after each thrust, and the squelches of your cunt swallowing his cock whole—it was all getting to his head. If he was still drunk then he would've probably passed out at this point. But then again if he was not drunk anymore how else was he going to explain this feeling?

The feeling of wanting to hold you for an eternity, wanting to see you bite down on his skin instead of his pillow, wanting to see more of his hand print all over your body other than just your waist. The urge to flip you over and just fuck you as slow as he could while staring into your eyes like they held secret to immortality, it was tempting.

What was the fear that was holding him back? That if he did just give in he'd never see you like this again, and if that happened he would probably take himself down with the entire city. So, he can just settle for taking off the condom as fast as he could, while you whine from the lack of stretch inside you. 

“Aw, whining like a cock hungry slut now, are we?” He can settle with coming inside you for now. Yes, he can settle. 

You did not think twice when he slid back in, you chalked it out as him being a tease as usual. And the new warmth that fit right inside you like a perfect piece of puzzle, was much welcomed. So much so, that you could not help but cum again without any warning, I mean you'd warn him if you were cognizant of these things yourself. At this point your body was betraying your mind, and your mind was too drunk to even feel how backstabbed it was, it was too busy feeling every single ridge and curve of Gojo’s cock. Trying to memorize the shape of him into all of your muscles. 

“Coming without me? How mean, sweets.” 

As he started throbbing inside you, and strings of cum started to leak, then it hit. He was coming inside you, like, inside you. “WAIT. SATORU. W-” 

Your protests were too late; his body flopped over on your back, and his cock curved inside you so far it started hitting your cervix. At that point you were paralyzed, eyes were rolled far too back inside your sockets, the sting from his teeth digging into your neck, and the sound of his groans and grunts were deafening. You were shaking, he was shaking, his hips could not stop themselves from thrusting even while his cock shot ropes and ropes of cum inside your walls. 

“Yes. Ye- scream Satoru. Scream my name. Let my neighbours know who's sluttin’ ya’ out.” 

“Sa-satoru.”

“Louder.” 

“S-ATORU.”

“LOUDER.” 

“SATORU!”

With that last scream you came again, gushed and tightened your walls around him one more time. Before passing out with tears rolling down your cheeks and your lower body essentially numb, and all you could utter was mumbles of ‘Satoru’, over and over again until you fully fell asleep.

If you were awake just a little longer to feel or see Satoru lick your tears clean off of your face, and shoving his dripping cum back in your cunt with his shaky fingers, you might have passed out again.

Whether or not you make it out of Gojo Satoru’s bed, or his head—those are questions for his sober self tomorrow. For now, all he knows is that he wants you in his arms, under his blankets, on his bed, maybe on some cleaner sheets;  just dreaming about nothing else but him.

After all, when all the lines are crossed and blurred, why pretend for the sake of civility?

TO FIND MORE OF MY WORKS CLICK HERE.

a/n: dividers by @/enchanthings-a

on my period so this is extra filthy. also sorry if the tension and bits of backstory was not good enough ＞︿＜and i did leave their relation after this ambiguous you are totally welcome in my inbox to discuss about this couple from hell.

tag list: @cheralith @madamechrissy @gojosperms @gojao @cuntphoric @nanamiskentos @cuntyji @cuntphoric @aishi-toru @fushitoru @rriwyu @exquisink @lover-lyn @buckysm @wwwritererm @indiewritesxoxo @soupicidesquad @shouiow @user25384959574 @dxmnsaera @kazupop @slayzzz @undercvrfan444 @miizuzu @getoistic @infinitatis-ink @theorphicangel @ricecake-mochi - (perm list) @chachawheeee11 @magnificientscarlett @samoankpoper21 @yenayaps @shhhhhhxoxo125 @saoirses-things @saylorslove @rain-soaked-sun

[classyrbf]

thinking about tying up sub!gojo, his hands and arms are restrained behind his back while you sit there in front of him, wickedly smiling at how he’s drooling and moaning like a dumb little slut. His body is coaxed in a light sheen of sweat, making his muscles dance under the light each time he moves. The vibrator attached to his swollen dick makes a small humming sound as you turn it up higher, giggling when he lets out the most pathetic whine yet. “Nnngh! Baby, p-please!” He’s begging and you’re not sure what for. Is it to cum? To turn it off? Either way, you were going to do what you wanted. He’s gasping for air, pulling at his restraints as he tries so hard not to cum. “Fuck! Fuck!” He tosses his head back, mouth agape as his abdomen flexes, his body jolting from the sheer amount of pleasure. “Don’t cum yet, Satoru!” You warn, leaning over and gently ghosting your fingertips over his thighs and back up again. He’s whining and whimpering, tossing his head back and forth. He’s feels like he’s going crazy. He can’t touch you, he can’t touch himself and he can’t cum. But deep down he loves it so much because he knows you’re the one controlling him.

You place gentle kisses on his neck as you sneakily turn up the vibrator higher. “Ohhh no, no, no! Baby,” he gasps, “baby, I can’t! I need to fucking cum so bad!” He’s gritting his teeth, brows furrowing underneath his blindfold as he reaches the brink of release. The moment he feels your lips on his and your tongue his mouth he cums immediately, moaning into your mouth while you smile against his lips. “Nnghh! Oh my god! O-oh shit, shit! Mmph!” His entire body shakes as the strongest orgasm he’s ever had makes him feel like he’s floating. Spurts of cum shoot out from his cock, landing on his stomach, down his shaft and balls and little bit on you. “I can’t fucking stop,” he moans, left completely breathless.

“Made such a big mess, Satoru. And you came without permission?” You watch the way his thighs quiver and his cock twitches as you leave the vibrator running. “Now you’ll just have to keep cumming until I say so.”

“What?! No, no! I’m so sensitive! I’m sorry for cumming—nnngh! Ah! Just please…turn it down! Please!” He begs, his heart beating rapidly in his ears while his chest moves up and down.

“No. You wanted to cum so bad, right? Now you’re getting your wish.” You return back to sitting in front of him, watching his mind melt and his own body betray him as he cums again so quickly and unexpectedly. He can’t even properly speak, just spouting random words as you slowly turn him dumb.

[tender-rosiey]

smack, smack — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: special thanks to the beautiful @stinkyme for inspiring me to actually write this and for fangirling over the idea with me <3

gojo satoru, like any dad, got his fair share of ‘bullying’ from his daughter, his 5 months old baby.

some dads get peed on, others get their hair pulled, and others get their nose bitten on the daily. it's a little something to make them suffer a bit like the mothers had to during the pregnancy.

your husband, however, is always getting smacked in the face whenever he has his blindfold on, and I mean harshly smacked in the face and unforgiving scratching.

the first time it happened was when he was going to school. he was ready, uniform on and everything, but he simply had to say goodbye to his two girls.

skipping to your shared bedroom, he placed two big smooches on your face. then, after much of pulling him off you, he went to smooch his little girl. a big unmatched grin was on his face as he looked down at her in her crib.

he picked her up, cooing softly at her, “what a pretty girl, just as pretty as your mama, huh?”

satoru then laid her gently against his chest and started rocking her softly, while humming. after a while, he felt her stir a little in his arms. she sleepily looks up at him, and he smiles down at her, “good morning, baby—“

now, your daughter was used to seeing her dad without the blindfold. she was used to getting met by her dad's bright blue eyes.

so when a strange unknown man was holding her up instead of her papa, she started wailing and screaming, repeatedly smacking him in the face.

whenever her little—strong—hand landed on the blindfold, she would try to pull it off with all her baby might. you scrambled out of your bed at the loud screeches and screams of both your husband and your daughter.

you saw how satoru was desperately trying to, as gently as possible, make her release her grip. you stumbled on your words, before yelling, “your blindfold! take off your blindfold off!”

“I! am! trying!” he yelps as she continues slapping the hell out of his face.

you hurry and take his blindfold off, swiftly throwing it to the side. he started rocking her, smiling despite the red marks and scratches all over his handsome face, “it’s me, daddy! you see me?”

almost magically, your daughter calmed down in an instant with the occasional hiccup from her previous crying. he smiled, “there you go; that’s my girl.”

she gently made grabby hands at him, and he quickly pulled her back into his chest. your daughter instantly snuggled into his shoulder and hid her face in his neck.

you stared at him for a moment, “well, at least we know that she bloody hates that blindfold.”

it honestly kind of adds up.

you remember the many times that your daughter was generally distressed or fussy and instantly calmed down when she saw her dad’s eyes. you also remember that one time your daughter was actually zoning out while looking at satoru’s eyes, her own safe place.

satoru chuckles with a shrug, “I have you as my savior, anyway.”

“you can’t always count on me to be the one to save you from our daughter’s monstrously strong grip.”

and he can’t.

no one is brave enough to try and to fight back a baby, let alone the strongest sorcerer’s baby.

that attack happens way more than satoru would like. for example, whenever you’re busy, he takes his little princess to the school with him. in general, everyone helps in taking care of the little angel (devil in some cases).

however, god forbid she sees satoru coming back from a mission with his blindfold on.

it took some time for your husband to learn his lesson and immediately take his blindfold off before he entered the school. until then, he was prone to his daughter’s crazy strong hand smacking his face till his entire face is painted red and not the cute kind.

satoru never believed in his students to save him, except for yuuji. the first time it happened around the students, most of them were either laughing or speechless.

yuuji did try to save his sensei from his smacking machine of a daughter, but ended up getting smacked himself.

your husband did hope that, maybe, nanami’s heart would soften, and he would finally help him.

nanami’s heart did soften, just not for satoru. instead, your daughter now has a special soft spot in nanami’s heart, as he did in hers, but that isn’t our topic for today.

the amount of times you would enter the room to find nanami chuckling or smiling at your husband getting beaten to a pulp by your baby. satoru could be sobbing, “nanami, please! save me!”

and nanami would simply smile—sadistically—and hum, “I don’t think I will.”

you’re pretty sure that nanami believes this is god’s way of punishing your husband for all the mischief he caused.

ignoring that, it grips your heart how satoru’s face would brighten up the moment he saw you. he would run up to you, giving you the baby to calm her down while he gives his face a rest.

and your little girl was smiling and giving you her version of cheek kisses.

your husband recovered quickly though, and took her back, his blindfold finally off. he doesn’t do it without pecking your lips though, “my savior.”     

then he gets lost in his own world with his little girl, and their laughs and giggles filled the room. her hands were gently holding her dad’s face as she squeals, and satoru’s heart soars as he forgets about his beating from a moment ago.

now, that doesn’t mean that his dear students don’t make fun of him for always losing against his little girl. during one of the recent teasings, he simply huffed, “you never tried the grip of a baby! tell them, yuuji!”

yuuji shudders as he remembers how long the slap mark lasted, “she is one hell of a strong baby.”

it’s one thing for panda and nobara to laugh, it’s another for megumi and maki to do so as well. your husband’s ego simply couldn’t take it anymore. he took his baby in his arms and gathered the baby bags, sparing one last glance at his ‘bullies’.

and so your husband dramatically exits the room, “I need my wife! I can’t with you people anymore!”

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[shotmrmiller]

I havent a wrinkle in this brain of mine for plot, so have some porn without plot instead :)

Maybe it's because Johnny has you blindfolded, but he feels different. He's heavier on top of you and feels a bit bigger inside of you. It stings more than usual when he finally pushes his cock into your sopping cunt, swollen and tender from the four orgasms he took from you with his mouth alone. Your inner thighs burn as they stretch wider around his thick waist. When his lips meet yours, as your tongues entwine, he tastes of bourbon. He's quiet too, which is very different from the usual filth he whispers into your ear.

But when he starts rocking his hips, all thought fades, along with the ache in between your legs. His thrusts are long, pulling out until only the tip of his cock remains inside. Then he pushes forward steadily until he's pressed firmly against the entrance of your womb— making you wince slightly at the pinch. He does this tirelessly until obscene squelches emit from your cunt, that pinch deep inside of you turning into spine-tingling bliss. Your skin erupts in goosebumps when his head nudges against your sweet spot, a loud moan falling from your lips. He mutedly chuckles, his chest vibrating against sweat-slick breasts and the coarseness of his chest hair grazing your hardened nipples only heightens your pleasure.

You feel him move away from you until his cock slips out, only to vigorously grab at your hips and pull you to him. Your upper body rests on the bed, while he sits on his haunches and keeps your legs spread with his thick thighs as he slowly pushes back inside. But this time, it's not all the way. Oh, no. You know exactly what's about to happen.

"Wait-" but he doesn't. He fixedly keeps you in place at the angle he wants, the angle you need, and moves. His thrusts turn staccato— short, quick jabs— and he's hitting your spot, the one that has you going cross-eyed behind the blindfold. Your mouth is slightly open, drooling at the corner of it as you're rendered helpless against his onslaught.

The fire in your stomach blazes, every snap of his hips pushes you closer to the edge, the coil within you tightening, your body tensing. You can hear him spit— can feel a warm glob of liquid land on your mons, and dribble down to your aching, neglected clit. His thumb collects the saliva and swirls your bud under the pad of his calloused thumb rigidly.

Your spine arches off the mattress so sharply it pops as you climax, a choked scream ripping out of your throat. Your nails dig into the delicate skin of his wrists, no doubt leaving behind red welts. He doesn't stop the stimulation on your clit, his hips never falter in rhythm as he prolongs your mind-numbing pleasure.

Body going limp in his hands, you hiss in oversensitivity and swat at his hands. "Ow, love-" but he cuts you off with a searing kiss before flipping you on your knees, and to the edge of the lofty bed. You're rising to your hands when his big, rough palm pushes you down— his intent clear. With your chest on the bed, he sheathes himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke and the angle he goes in with is nothing short of devastating.

If you hadn't been wailing, you would've heard the deep, guttural noise that escaped his mouth. You can feel him in your sternum, replacing the air in your lungs. He swiftly picks up his left leg, positions it on the bed next to you, and sets a merciless pace. The force behind his thrusts rattles your very bones, leaves you breathless. You can feel the meat of your arse ripple with every slap of his hips— can feel the bruises forming in your skin under his hands.

You lift your hand to feel where he's splitting you open, fingers encasing his cock, he stiffens— swells painfully inside of you then he's coming with a snarl. His Cock twitches as it spurts his essence into you, stuffing you full and then some because you can feel his cum trickle down your legs. You try to lift yourself with quivering arms but again, you're manhandled and flipped onto your back, a squawk of indignation silenced with an all-consuming kiss. His lips move against yours feverishly, as if he's committing your taste to memory.

He finally relents, pulling away but you hold him in place with your hands cupping his face and murmur an 'I love you'. The only response you get is one you feel, as he tips his head in a nod, and then presses a kiss into your sweaty temple before moving away.

Later, when you and Johnny are in the shower, you notice that there isn't a single scratch on his wrists even though you definitely dug your nails into him. And that reminds you.

"Johnny?"

"Aye, bonnie?"

"Since when do you drink bourbon?"

[roturo]

₊˚ෆ FALSE GOD

warnings: masturbation, sex, smut, porn with no plot, unprocteted sex, overstimulation, use of toys, cunnilingus, mentions of low/high sex drive, dom/sub dynamics, shaming, humilliation, blue balls, edging, corruption kink, mentions of somnophilia, and twitter links. (Gojo, Geto & Nanami)

author's note: this is not a goodbye, but take it as a see you soon writing.

part 2 (coming soon if it’s well received)

gojo satoru

He's been annoying you the whole morning while trying to coach the kids on their training– slapping his hand away everytime it lowers down from your lower back and giving him a glaring look.

Both of you talked about this. Not letting his high sex drive come across work, and mostly in front of his students.He looked like a lost puppy, searching for attention and someone to relieve his needs.

“Gojo. Stop it–” You pushed his hand away from you, looking back to see if someone else noticed what’s going on. “But I can’t princess, I need you right now~” He whined in your ear, he was about to throw a tantrum if you continued neglecting him this way. It’s been two weeks without sex, can you believe it? Two weeks! He prefers fighting Mahito’s annoying ass again on his own rather than pass one day without inside you.

“It’s not the time right now– and I'm not in the mood either.”

Okay. First of all he knew you weren’t too into sex, and he accepted it! He respected your boundaries, and he didn’t only want you for the sex, he loved you for who you are! But the way you said his last name instead of his first name, and looking like you were about to slap him turned him on even more.

He wouldn’t stop whining and throwing tantrums for your touch, opting for dismissing the class early so they could go to sleep or wherever, it’s weekend anyways. 

Both of you sat in silence in his office. Waiting for someone to break the tense silence thanks to him— and he was about to do it, but the moment your mouth opened his mind got in control of your sweet voice.

“Get up and take your pants off. Briefs too-” His eyes light up like a kid when receiving a lollipop for behaving like a good boy he is. He took off his shirt too, feeling like it was drowning him and taking the air out of him because this was the first time you were really taking control over all this.

“Sit.” He did as you said, his cock proudly standing tall and full of cum to dump wherever you wanted him too. But he wasn’t too lucky this time, because the moment you stepped closer to him and his desk, searching for one of his blindfolds he usually leaves there– you kneeled down infront of his, massaging his hard balls that made him moan out loud– taking them in one hand, they were heavy. His blindfold was around them, in a knot– tighten them. 

The moment you started jerking off he knew he wouldn’t come as easy as he would. It was wet, really wet– and all thanks to his pre-cum leaving his cock, he was begging for release, he couldn’t come, literally and physically. It was impeding him from cumming, it felt ten times worse than not having your touch– He had it now, but at what cost?

“Aw, look at those blue balls!” You laughed in front of him and slightly slapped the red swollen head of his cock– he was crying, he never did. But it felt so good but it hurt so much at the same time.  You took off the blindfold, cum coming out like a big wave, wetting his abdomen, part of his chest and your neck too. His moan almost sounded like a scream, cries and nervous laughs coming out of him– He came but you continued jerking him off, this time overstimulating him instead of edging him– He doesn’t know what was worse. Coherent words were long lost, babbling out trying to stop himself but he couldn’t move himself, way too lost in the pleasure to be able to stop you.

“Let’s see if you can atleast last a week without acting like a fucking horny virgin bitch this time mhm?, let’s make you cum again just to make sure, yeah?”

geto suguru

Geto is a morning wood guy. And he knows you have a low libido, actually Suguru is the only one you’ve sex with. 

“I’m scared of dicks ´guru” You whispered, kneeled down in front of him, you were at his dorm, it was 11 P.M and you decided to lose your virginity to Geto assuring he’s the one and you’ve never felt safe in someone else’s arms– he chuckled and looked at you with loving eyes– one of his hands caressed your cheek, “How are you going to be afraid of dicks and want to suck me off at the same time princess? Mhm?”

He laughed at himself at the memory, now you were 6 years together and he’s eager to know how your life is going to be with him, having a wedding, getting a house together, making you pregnant… full of him, shit. This is not helping with the main problem right now.

He’s a decent man. At least that’s what he thinks about himself– he’s not horny all the time like Satoru. Maybe that’s his form of love language? Satoru is a weird ass anyways– he thinks to himself while scrunching his eyebrows together, –stop thinking about him Suguru!, it’s going to make you puke instead of helping the problem… He was looking at the ceiling of your room while you’re sleeping right beside him. He doesn’t want to wake you up, you deserve to have a nice and comfortable sleep.

But the pain down there is not going anywhere, not even with a cold shower. He knows to identify his morning woods– living with them for his whole life, I guess. Unconsciously one of his hands is now touching himself through his boxers making him moan, his free hand quickly covering his mouth and looking to his side to find you still sleeping.   

He swears he’s about to slap himself to stop this and suck it up, but he feels your hand stopping him. “Are you okay baby?, I heard something and I thought you hurt yourself or something.”

Oh my god… How could you be so… pure? So perfect for him, always making sure he’s okay, your sleepy voice sounding deeper than your normal voice… His shirt is way too big for you that he swears if he moves his head a little higher he could see your nipples. Shit Suguru, you turned it sexual again!

Should he just… ask you? beg you? beg and cry for some release? Would he sound as horny as a teenager? This problem should be for teenagers! Not for a grown ass man like him!

“Um… I might just had a little problem down there”

“Might? Little?”

His flushed face was cute, his body was fully uncovered by the blankets, leaving him with his chest exposed and a clear wet patch on his boxers.

“C’mon baby, let me help you” He called out your name, trying to stop you the moment you placed your hand on the elastic of his underwear— in one swift motion you freed his cock, catching a glance of how swollen it was due the negligence of the past weeks. 

The moment Suguru felt the cold breeze on him, he came.

He fucking came with no touch.

Damn embarrassing.

“Aw, cute. Want me to suck you off?”

nanami kento

You haven’t rushed things with Nanami yet. Both of you were such a cute couple that made people gag. 

He’s amazing, not like any other boys you have met before, he treated you nice, spoiled you and mostly respected you– in a world of boys, he’s a gentleman. 

He’s such a hard working guy, such an inspiration, so committed to both of his works that you tell him if you ever get married you’ll be the best housewife he could ever have because he deserves it.

But one thing about Nanami is that he keeps things to himself. Just like the boner he has right now by imagining you being his little housewife. He really needs to leave this office right now and relieve some… stress.

The last weeks have been hard for him, naturally affecting your relationship with him. He was always tired, even more earnest and quiet. You know he’s bad at telling what he feels, and he’s always stressed by something– but you have never seen him like this. Like ever.

When he tries to distress himself he just keeps failing over and over again, not being enough and having to suck it up and continue his day with a hard poking erection most likely visible in his pants. That’s why he remains seated most of the time.

But one day he went to your house after work. It was impossible to not notice his erection even when he’s trying to hide with his briefcase or on the sofa. 

“Take your pants off Kento.” You’re not a big fan of sex, Nanami knows that, he hasn’t even had sex with you before! So this caught him by surprise, the red on his cheeks spanding through his neck.

“E-excuse me? I’m sorry, what honey?” 

“You heard me, take your pants off.” He’s seated on your sofa– unloosened tie, two or three bottoms of his shirt undone, messy hair, in his socks but that damn thing was literally capable of breaking his pants if it didn’t have some release.

He slowly started unbuckling his pants, losing his mental battle and accepting what he needed, and if you were willing to do it, all he could do is take it– but dear god, it was even worse.

All you would do is touch him. Through his briefs. Just the feeling of your fingers through them. Touching the tip was the worst part.

And he couldn’t believe that the most simple touch is capable of making him cum with just your fingers than him raming and jerking off the hardest he has ever tried.