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jazzthatonewriterchick · 2 days

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DRABBLE: YOU GOT ERRANDS TO RUN? NOT WITH THEM, YOU DON’T! (18+) (JJK) (For Black!Fem!Readers)

Writer's Note: Got this idea out of nowhere lol. Enjoy! -Jazz

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TOJI

Don’t ever expect to get anything done with this nigga around.

I'm serious. You can't get anything done when this man is in your house or apartment.

You try to cook? He'll bend you over the counter and let that bitch in the pan or stove burn.

You need to do your laundry? He'll "help" you put your load in the washer machine before putting his own "load" deep in your pussy or all over your ass while you're bent over the dryer.

You have to go grocery shopping? Okay! He'll drive you there and play with your pussy while steering with the other hand.

Case in point, you wake up one morning at around 7AM on the dot, your ringtone going off which wakes the sleeping, sexy, toxic man lying next to you, naked from the night before as are you. You had invited Toji over for a Friday night smoke session knowing full well that it would end in you getting fucked.

And you did. Very good, might I add. Your legs still feel like jelly and your muscles ache from Toji putting you into twenty different positions to fuck you in, but you still have to hit the gym.

But as you shift in his big, beefy arms wrapped tight around you, they seem to get tighter, locking you against him. You groan tiredly. "Toji," you sigh. "C'mon, I gotta get up."

"Where you think you goin'?" he sleepily murmurs though his deep voice makes your stomach flutter. "I ain't fucked you yet. Mornin' sex is the best sex."

You roll your eyes, still struggling to take his arms from around you. "I thought you said high sex is," you giggle. He snorts into his pillow, scooting closer to begin kissing your back. "Babygirl, I say a lot of shit when I'm horny," he chuckles. "All sex is the best sex."

He then begins kissing up to your neck right behind your ear. Your weak spot. "Mmm," you softly moan, instinctively leaning your head back to give him more of your throat to kiss.

"Yeah?" he teasingly asks. "Now isn't this so much better than goin' wherever it is you were off to?"

"I have to go to the gym," you whimper in protest, pushing his face away from you. "C'mon, I've got a routine. You know this." You go to pry his arms off of you, but he stops you by suddenly moving on top of you.

"Toji, no!" you protest, irked by his full weight on top of you, keeping you locked underneath him. He smirks down at you, barely reacting to your pissed scowl. "Toji, yes," he chuckles. "Now c'mon, babydoll. Why go to the gym when I can train ya just fine?"

He leans down to begin assaulting your neck in kisses and nibbles that have your pussy waking up out of its slumber, especially when you feel his cock begin to stir against your inner thigh.

"And besides." He pauses, smirking at you. "I can make you sweat even more than one of those machines can."

And twenty minutes later, cutting right into your workout time, Toji makes do on his word and gives you his own workout by having you bounce on his cock while he fucks you back, his firm, thick thighs slapping against yours as he fucks you from below.

"Fuck, Toji, f-fuck me!" you whine from above him, your hands gripping the headboard for dear life as you sweat out your hair and your thighs burn.

"See, babydoll?" he pantingly chuckles from below you, his own toned body shining in sweat. "Told ya I could make ya sweat more."

GOJO

Like Toji, this blue-eyed bitch is one horny bastard. And an attention whore.

Satoru swears he is dying when you don't give him even an ounce of the attention he needs. You jokingly call him 'Tinkerbell' because of this. "She dies without attention too," you giggled to him.

"She's got the right idea," your goofy ass man said to you, his head in your lap while you played in his hair. "You've gotta give your romantic partners the attention they crave, baby. It's a part of life! It's the natural order of things!"

He practices this now, lying on your couch on his stomach, his long legs hanging off the edge. He watches you like a begging puppy as you scurry around your living room in your tight spandex shorts and sports bra, moving your Swiffer Wet Jet around your hardwood floor.

He whines at you, taking on the full persona of a dog, and you roll your eyes. He’s been wining ever since he got here and realized you were too busy cleaning before your lunch with Geto to give him any attention. "Stop whining, you big baby,” you huff, barely even looking at him.

Your golden retriever boyfriend sits up on your couch, exasperated and dramatic as always. "But I'm your big baby," he protests with a white-toothed smile and that adoring look in his blue eyes that always gets you. However, you ignore it and he withers. “C'mon, Y/N, baby! You've been wiping the damn floor for an hour now!"

"Satoru, you just got here ten minutes ago," you sigh, leaning against your Wet Jet. "I told you after I'm done the floor, we can go to lunch and meet up with Geto." You turn around and continue to mop, but that’s a big mistake.

Your man takes advantage of this position and wraps his arms around you from behind. “Can we go to lunch after I fuck you?" he suggests. "I can't eat when I'm this horny." He begins to kiss your neck as he presses his toned, hard front against your back, giving you a feel of his dick pushing through his hoochie daddy shorts.

He knew what the fuck he was doing wearing those things. “Gojo, no,” you moan. "C'mon, stop." You try to push him away, but he stops you, locking his arm tight around you.

“Then you stop bein' so sexy," he murmurs. "You knew what the fuck you were doin' when you decided to put these on, baby." His hands slide down your shorts, pushing them up higher so he can slip his fingers under them to caress your thighs.

You bite back a pleasured smile at his ministrations and swiftly smack his hands away. He mockingly hisses in pain, giving you a look of pure betrayal. “No, no, no," you firmly say. "You keep distracting me, you'll get no pussy later."

His expression deepens, his eyes wide like you just told him you’d kill him. “Babyyy!" he whines. "Don't be so cruel!" He then drops to his knees and grabs your hips, pushing his face into your stomach.

"Gojo," you sigh, though you also giggle. "Now how am I supposed to wipe the floor like this?"

You put your hand in his hair, playing with the white locks as he begins to kiss your stomach and sides. You bite back a moan, hating him for how good his lips feel. "Alright, fine!" you huff. He looks up at you and grins like a kid on Christmas Day, finally breaking you. “I'll stop for five minutes so we can make out, but ONLY making out. Nothing else, got it?"

"Got it," he replies, knowing damn well he is lying.

Fifteen minutes later, his head is between your thighs and your mouth is locked around his cock. You sit on top of him, straddling his face with your thick, delicious thighs that Gojo can’t get enough of. He grips them, closing them around his ears as he sucks and slurps on your sobbing, wet, puffy cunt. Your shorts have been discarded, your panties are pulled aside, and your sports bra is peeled up to reveal your juicy tits that you rub against his abs to stimulate your nipples.

Your mouth goes up, down, up, down, bobbing in rhythm to take his thick, veiny shaft down your throat, his pulsing head touching the back of your throat and making you gag. The lewd sounds and your saliva dripping from your mouth seem to make Gojo go feral.

He begins to eat your pussy even sloppier, moaning into your hole as he does so. You moan and whimper around his cock, struggling to keep rhythm. You’re sure you’re about to cum until you hear your phone ring from behind you, sitting up on the couch arm. You pop Gojo’s dick out of your mouth, the beautiful shaft glistening in spit. "'T-Tarou," you stammer. "Mmm, baby! The phone! It's Geto!"

Gojo tears himself away from your pussy, his mouth coated in your juices and his own spit. "I've got it," he growls. "Don't stop suckin' my cock." He reaches down to push your head back down onto him just as he answers your phone. "Yeah?" he asks right before he moans out, "Fuck, babygirl, yes!"

You hear Geto sigh on the other line and you glare back at Gojo when you realize he put the call on speaker. This motherfucker! “I called at a very bad time, obviously," Geto sighs. "I should've known since you answered Y/N's phone instead of her."

"Gojo, stop!" you yell, but you're cut off by a moan as Gojo begins playing with your clit. "Sorry, Sugu, but Y/N and I are gonna be a little late,” he smugly replies, watching you grind your hips and that gorgeous ass onto his fingers. “Is 2PM a better time?"

"Sure," Geto sighs. "Just for God's sake, make sure you get this all out now because I don't wanna watch you two eye fuck at lunch." You flush with embarrassment, thinking of what he’ll think once you’re actually sitting across from him at lunch.

Gojo laughs, taking his fingers away and sucking on them. "Gotchu," he chuckles. "Now unless you wanna listen to me fuck my girl's brains out, I suggest you hang up."

In one swift motion, he grabs your hips, tosses you down onto the couch on your hands and knees, and moves behind you. You squeak at the sudden movement and his strength, aroused by the fact that he’s fast and so strong.

Tossing your phone away, Gojo taps his cock against your begging pussy lips, emitting a moan from both of you, much to Geto’s dismay. "You two are disgusting," he scoffs before he hangs up right as Gojo begins to piston into you from behind.

You gasp as his thick cock slides into you and quickly begins to stroke your insides, pleasurable tingles surging from your clit the more he hits your shit dead on from the back. You grip the arm of the couch for dear life as his hands spank your ass, the burst of pain shocking you like electricity as your ass bounces against him and your titties jiggle with every thrust. “God, ‘Tarou, yes!” you yelp. “Yes, right there! Do it right there!”

Gojo wraps a hand around your hair, grinning down at the slut that has taken your place. "You still got those motherfuckin' errands to run?" he demands. You shake your head desperately, whimpering. “Huh?” He teasingly asks, yanking on your hair. “I can't hear you, mama. Tell me what you're doin' right now."

You don’t answer for a while, too busy moaning and sobbing in pleasure about his dick to do so. But when you finally feel that knot tightening and snapping in your core and your pussy spasm around your boyfriend’s cock, you do answer: "Cumming!" you sob. "I-I'm cumming!"

GETO

Suguru is a little more understanding than the other two, especially as a single father, but when you get him in that particular mood, it’s harder to see you go.

He lays on his side under his sheets, one elbow propped up to hold up his head as he watches you sit on the edge of his bed. He frowns as you pull your jeans up over your thick thighs and luscious ass covered in love bites that he gave you last night. “Do you really have to leave me this morning, precious?" he tuts. "I just think you need at least another couple of minutes of rest."

You look at him over your shoulder, drinking in how sexy he looks with the sunlight pouring in through the bedroom window. It illuminates his tanned skin and muscles, turning his long, black longs into spun gold that cascade down his back and shoulders.

You had come over after working a Sunday shift to spend time with him and his daughters, Mimiko and Nanako, as you frequently did since Geto lives so close to your workplace. He cooked a delicious hibachi dinner for you, played Disney movies, and after he put the girls to bed, retreated with you to his bedroom to put your ass through his mattress and make you cum a good four times throughout the sleepless night.

But now that night has ended and you must go back to reality, which means leaving and running your errands for Monday morning before your night shift. "By rest, you mean cuddling with you," you giggle. Geto purses his lips at you, about to argue. “Well...yes."

You laugh at his quickness to give up on an argument and scoot closer to him in your jeans and bra. He opens his arms for you immediately, wrapping them around you. "Baby, you have to go to work in an hour and take your daughters to school." You run a hand through his hair, making him close his eyes and relax under your touch. “Meanwhile, my dog needs his walk, I have to pick up my dry cleaning, and I need to deep clean my bedroom."

His eyes clench tightly at the mention of your list your stupid errands. "Can't all of that wait until we get some time together?" he sighs. He opens his eyes, the same ones you stared into while he filled you up and made you cum last night, and presses a kiss to your hand. “Daddy needs his kisses too."

You instantly feel your body react—your heart thumping and your pussy excitedly throbbing—at the mention of your favorite nickname for him. You just love it when he refers to himself as ‘Daddy’ in the third person and he knows that. But you also know that he goes insane when you call him that too.

So you lean in and press a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Daddy will get his kisses later," you whisper, much to his dismay. “But he can watch his girl get dressed."

You jump off of the bed before he can snatch you back up and slowly, tantalizingly begin to put on and button your blouse that he ripped off of you last night. You stare at him through your lashes as you do, leaning forward to give him a view of your titties in your lace bra.

Geto bites his lip at the sight of you, the little reverse strip tease causing a tent to form under the sheets. "You little tease," he exhales. "You keep doin' that and you won't be gettin' out of here."

You raise a brow at his warning, pausing from buttoning your blouse. "Oh?" you teasingly ask. "And how the fuck you gon' do that? Tie me up?" You laugh at your joke, thinking he’s not serious, but Geto only smirks at you. Instantly, you regret pushing him.

If there is one thing about Geto Suguru, he is dead serious about everything, including backing up his shit talk in the bedroom. It doesn’t take long for him to have you naked and wrapped up tight in his arms while you toss your ass into him from behind, your hands pressed against the headboard. You have to do your very best to keep your moans down as he pistons himself into you, his cock and his fingers stimulating your clit, causing your pussy to drip and grip around him.

"How's this for tyin' you up?" he grunts into your ear. "No rope can hold you tighter than I can. You like this, mama?"

You don’t have to give an answer—your body is responding just as he wants with your soaked pussy squelching and squeezing around him, even more so as he rubs your clit with his calloused fingers. But you find yourself giving a verbal answer anyway: "God, Sugu, yes!" you whine. "Yes, I fuckin' love it!"

"Daddy?" a sudden small voice asks along with a knock. Geto immediately covers your mouth and slows his pistoning hips, but doesn't stop rolling them. He continues to slowly fuck you but presses a finger to his lips. "Yeah, Mimiko, baby?" he calls, keeping his voice steady despite still dicking you down.

"I'm hungry!" Mimiko whines from behind the door. "Can you cook breakfast now?"

"In a minute, buttercup," Geto replies. "Daddy is busy helpin' Y/N out with somethin'. Wait till I'm done, okay, pumpkin?" He takes your hand off of the headboard and places it on your pussy, coaxing you to rub it in time with his quickening thrusts.

Though Mimiko whines in protest at waiting for her food, she listens to her father anyway. "Okay," she replies and wanders off.

Once she's gone, Geto sighs in relief and gives you an apologetic smile. "Guess this is tunin' into a quickie," he chuckles. "Don't worry, mama, I've gotchu. Just hold onto the headboard 'cause I'm not goin' slow."

He begins to beat your pussy up just the way you need him to, knocking the air out of your lungs. Your pussy tightens around him, signaling the oncoming of your orgasm just as your phone alert begins to ring. "Sugu, m-my dry cleaning!" you sob. "I've got to-"

But Geto silences you with a sloppy kiss. "Fuck your dry cleaning," he grunts. "You better cum for me if you wanna get outta here in time, baby."

Luckily, you do and gush all around your man's thick cock while he cums on your ass, but you're late to pick up your dry cleaning.

NANAMI

Kento understands the struggles and responsibilities of adulting….but there’s just something about your sundress.

He had agreed to go with you to a farmers market in the city that finally returned for the season when he took a special interest in how you're dressed. "Sweetie, are you ready yet?" he calls from your bedroom. "I thought you said we have to be there early before it gets crowded."

You check your hair and outfit once more before you quickly prance out of the bathroom to your bedroom. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" you shout. "Sorry, I had trouble pullin' up the zipper to my..."

You stop talking immediately, noticing the way Nanami is staring at you from the middle of the room. His eyes are slightly widened and his lips are parted as he gazes at you. "What's wrong?" you worriedly ask. "Are my nipples showing?"

"No, no," he quickly replies. "You're fine, but...is that what you're wearing to the farmer's market today?"

He points at your floral-printed sundress with its spaghetti straps and hemline that stops at your knees, giving him a sneaky peek at your thighs. Your beautiful legs trail down to the slides and gold anklet you wear to bring the outfit to a cute close.

"Well, yeah!" you giggle. "It's warm today and I thought I'd look cute in it, don'tcha think?" You swish your hips, causing the ruffle of your dress to swish tantalizing around your legs and waist. Nanami watches, a blush suddenly coating his cheeks.

"Erm...w-well, yes." He pauses to clear his throat. "Yes, it's very...very..." He stops, swallowing hard. You stop, nervous about his weird reaction to your fit. "What?" you somberly ask. "Do you not like it?"

Nanami places his hands on his slim hips, visibly frustrated and flustered. "No, I don't like it," he replies. "I fucking love it and that's the problem. You look so damn good in that, I just wanna say fuck the market and fuck you."

You are gobsmacked by Nanami's dirty confession. Hearing your usually calm and collected gentleman look so desperate and sound so vulgar makes your stomach flutter and your nipples instantly harden. "W-Well, thank you, baby," you giggle, flushing shyly. "I wouldn't say no to that if I didn't want some fresh flowers, herbs, and organic strawberries."

Nanami nods, knowing how much you love fresh produce for your diet and herbs for your kitchen. "You're right," he sighs. "I shouldn't be thinking like this when you have an errand to run. After all, this is for your groceries."

"Yeah!" you agree because this is the adult thing to do. "It's better if we leave now and come back to this later." You pivot on your foot with your mini bag dangling from your fingers, but you don't realize that it's unzipped until your phone falls out and clatters to the floor.

"Shit!" you gasp and immediately bend over to pick it up. You also don't realize how short your sundress is. When you bend over, you unintentionally give Nanami an eyeful of your delectable asscheeks and the panties you're wearing for the day.

Nanami's cock instantly surges to life and he can't control himself anymore. As you stand up straight, he immediately grabs you from behind and presses you against the wall. "Ken!" you gasp. "Baby, what are you-"

You pause when you feel his hard-on pressing against you from behind through his jeans. "I'm sorry, darling," he ruggedly says in your ear. "But I don't think I can wait till after the shopping. I need you now."

His big hands coax you to bend forward, your ass sticking out, and brace your hands against the wall, your bag falling to the ground. He lifts up your dress to reveal your panties and thighs where he begins to litter both in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.

"B-But, baby!" you moan. "But...fuck, Kento! B-But the strawberries-"

"Will be there," he finishes. "All you need to worry about now is us and you cumming." He stops and holds your eyes with his as you look back at him. "Am I clear?" he firmly asks and then moves your panties to the side to reveal your pretty pussy to him.

"Yes, sir!" you whine as he begins to gently run his fingers over your slit.

"Good girl," he chuckles and his tongue steals all your thoughts of fresh produce and flowers away.

CHOSO

He’ll do and say anything to keep your ass with him.

Choso is usually aloof to a lot of things and people, but not to you. You are the only one he'd like to see every day, all the time.

He makes that known by calling and texting you throughout the day, surprising you at your crib with flowers and food you like; staying the weekend, and inviting you over to his place when you're free.

He wants you all the time. Work and other shit be damned...including errands. He will protest and argue you into the ground whenever you tell him you need to go run your errands for the day.

You need to go grocery shopping? He'll lock his arms tight around you, knowing that you can't get free. "Choso, no," you'd giggle in protest. "I have to get groceries."

"Just five more minutes," he'd mumble. "It's cold in here." Despite your room being toasty warm.

You need to go work out? He'll promise to cook for you just to have to stay. "Choso, I have to go to Pilates," you'd say.

"But I'm making coffee," he'd reply, giving you a saddened look that made him look adorable with his spiked ponytails. "C'mon, mama, you can show up a little late, can't you?"

Now isn't any different. Your alarm goes off, you go to get up, and your man tightens his grip on you. He goes to say something, but you put your hand in his face. "Uh-uh," you say. "No excuses this time. I need to go to Target and Smoothie King before my class today."

He picks his head up from the pillow, a cute scowl on his face and his black hair messily all over his head. "What's at Smoothie King?" he curiously asks.

"My Morning Mango Blast smoothie, of course!" you reply. He blinks at you, wondering if you’re serious. "Errands!" you giggle as you peek back the covers and pick up your pajama bottoms from the floor.

"Smoothie King is your errand?" he snorts, rolling his eyes. “I'll never understand you women."

"You don't have to," you shoot back. "Not entirely." As you pull your bottoms up, you stick your ass out, teasingly giving him a shot of your panties before they disappear under your shorts.

As you go to fetch some clothes, Choso grabs your arm. “Not so fast," he says in a sleepy, teasing drawl. You turn, seeing that he has become hard from under the sheets.

“Nooo," you groan. "Not again! What is it with you and not wantin' me to run my errands?" You let him pull you close, giggling as his lips begin to caress your neck. “You can go to Target and get your smoothie at any time," he argues. "Your class starts at 11 AM which means we got about..." "

He pauses to look at his watch. LThree hours till you're out of commission." He goes back to kissing you, his hands caressing your back and sides.

You moan at his pleasurable kissing and touching, but you know you can’t fall victim to his trap. "No, Choso," you sigh. "I don't have the time, okay? I've got errands to run."

Choso picks his head up from your chest to stare at you, his eyes stern. “No, you don't," he argues.

You cock your head at him, pursing your lips. Your attitude can’t be contained unfortunately. "Says who?" you scoff.

He sits up, exciting you with how demanding he’s become. “Says your man," he replies. "And I say your gonna leave your Target run and smoothie for later so I can pay."

Your pussy practically turns into a faucet. Nothing turns you on more than your boo telling you he’ll take care of you, but you’re not going to give up that easily.

You cross your arms over your chest, standing tall on your decision. "And what are you gonna do if I say no?" you challenge.

At the sight of Choso’s pierced brow twitching, you know you got to him. And minutes later, he gets to you by spreading you on your mattress and slurping up your pussy, your juices spilling out onto the sheets and down your chin. His tatted hands pin your thighs to the bed, his fingers digging into them as his pierced tongue rapidly moves across your slit, his nose nudging against your clit.

"God, Choso, yes!" you whine. "Please right there! Right fuckin' there, baby!” You can't keep your voice down nor stop your hips from rolling, all thoughts of errands gone. The only thing you are now focused on is cumming.

Being the soft yet demanding Dom that your boyfriend is, he picks his head up to look at you from between your thighs and rubs your clit with his index and middle fingers at the rapid pace and pressure you love. “Now what is it you had to do today?” he asks.

“Nothing!” you whimper, your toes curling and your hands balling into fists on the bedsheets. “I-I don’t have to do anything!” Choso leans in and begins pressing kisses to your clit as he slowly slides his fingers inside of you, curling upwards.

“So you’re gonna stay with me?” he pushes. “You’re not gonna worry about any of that shit, are you, baby?” He wraps his cushiony, soft lips on your desperate clit again which begins throbbing in time with the strokes of his fingers inside of you.

“N-No!” you stammer. “Oh, shit, Choso, I’m gonna cum!” It doesn't take long so Choso doesn't slow down or speed up, not stopping until you gush all over his fingers and pierced tongue. He greedily, eagerly cleans you up, even sliding his tongue between your ass crack, before you are a whimpering, over-stimulated mess.

He then lays down beside you and grabs his phone while you stare at him, starry-eyed and winded. He silently opens the app store and downloads the Smoothie King app on his phone.

"So what smoothie did you say you wanted?" he asks. You damn near suck the skin off of his dick afterwards.

INO

He’ll go with you to do an errand run but don’t act shocked if he pulls his dick out and tries to do you in the car.

Ino is one horny motherfucker...especially when it comes to your fine ass! You could wear a damn clown costume and he'd get rock for you. He thinks you're the most beautiful, sexiest woman he's ever met and to fuck you any chance he gets is a privilege he intends to take advantage of.

Even when you're busy. While Ino doesn't like to bother you when you have things to do, he does like to tease you. An errand run is just the place to do it. But he quickly realizes that you're doing the teasing despite not doing anything remotely sexual as you shop for groceries at your favorite supermarket with him tagging along

"God, you look so good in these fuckin' shorts, sugar," he groans, watching your ass move in your teeny tiny shorts. “ You did this on purpose." His eyes are glued to each cheek jiggling and moving when he should be helping you look for fresh produce for your fridge.

You realize that it was a bad idea to bring him along grocery shopping because of how horny he is. "Maybe," you giggle, picking up an orange and squeezing it lightly to check if it's ripe. "I'm not gonna wear sweats in 89-degree weather, Ino."

You turn to him as he trails behind you in his denim shorts and loose tank top that exposes so much skin and muscle that you can feel the feral slut inside of you clawing to get out and suck his dick in the middle of the store.

"I would hope not, but goddamn, this isn't workin' out for me!" he whines, looking like he's in agony as you lead him over to the peaches and nectarines. "You've got your man completely down bad for you." He leans against the shelves, his eyes lustful and playful.

You smile, pressing a kiss sticky with gloss to his waiting lips. "I know," you purr and hand him the basket you're carrying. "Now help me pick out the ripest peach here." You turn around and bend over to grab a nectarine, unaware of the fact that your shorts sink between your asscheeks as you do.

"Oh, I found one," he says before squeezing your ass. You gasp, turning to move his hand away, but he stops you by moving closer to your body so no one notices. "Uh-uh, don't move. Don't wanna bruise it...yet."

"Ino, cut it out!" you hiss. "We're in public!" He scowls confusedly at you, pouting. “Da hell does that mean?" he asks. "That didn't stop you from wearin' these little hoochie shorts." His hand slinks down to toy with your shorts that make your shapely legs look even better to him.

"Hoochie shorts?" you scoff, finally moving his hand away. "And what are those?" You nod down at his pants that stop mid-thigh. "You tryin' to scoop up a horny mom with those on?"

He smiles at your raised eyebrow and your hand on your hip. "But you're my twinsie!" he jokes. "I had to match with you!" Your eyes snake back down to his thighs, imagining very naughty things about them all of a sudden. "Maybe that was a mistake," you whisper.

Unfortunately for you, you find a banana that isn't mixed with the ones located a foot away from you with the apples. Instead, this one is thicker, harder, and located between Ino's thighs which are quickly tightening the more he looks at you.

Ino presses against you and sneakily moves your hand to cup his hard-on, making you nervously smile at the risky move. "You wanna go to the car and take care of it for me?" he suggestively asks into your ear.

Feeling just as freaky and your pussy throbbing in your panties, you turn to him and push your tits up against his hard pecs, all peaches and nectarines forgotten. “What's in it for me?" you ask, raising a brow at him.

He shows you just what when he has you folded up like a pretzel in the backseat of his car an hour after you get your groceries, his long dick in your mouth and his fingers buried deep in your pussy. Your shorts and panties are somewhere in the front seats, your tits jiggling in your sports bra as you bob your head up and down Ino's length.

"Fuck, baby!" he moans, his voice bouncing off of the car walls, mingling with your lewd moans and gagging sounds as you deepthroat him. He gently slides himself out of your mouth, leaving you drooling and your chin coated in spit.

"Come the fuck here," he growls, pulling you off of him before yanking you on top of him. You squeak and brace your hands on the car ceiling right as he takes his cock and gently slides himself inside of you, emitting a moan of release from both of you.

He only gives you a few slow thrusts before the image of your soft ass bouncing against him gets to him and he begins to go faster and harder as you bounce on his cock. "Shit, Ino, yes!" you whine, gripping the car ceiling handles for dear life as he fucks the absolute shit out of you.

If anyone were to be inside the car, all they would hear are the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your ass clapping against Ino's pelvis, and soft pants and moans as you eagerly fuck each other.

But thank God the windows are soundproof.

Ino laughs as he grips your hips, continuing to drill into you from below. "Bet you'll be askin' me to go on errand runs again, huh, sugar?" he cackles.

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #black coded reader #jjk smut #black writers #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jjk x reader #black reader #black!fem!reader #black!reader #satoru gojo x black!reader #ino takuma x black!reader #suguru geto x black!reader #toji x black!reader #nanami x black!reader

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tsukimefuku · 23 hours

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Hello, you amazing citizens of Tumblr. Here we are, the first writing challenge I’m happy to hold for no particular reason other than challenges are very fun.

We all know and love many Jujutsu Kaisen characters, and I guess many of us love food too. So, what if we join both passions in this challenge?

Welcome to “JJK foodies and goodies”, where you can send as part of the challenge a fic relating any JJK character with - you guessed it - food!

Slutty smut using food other than intended? Food preference head canons? A dinner scene? The sky is the limit, guys.

One fic per writer.

Said fic or Drabble must be within the 400-2000 word count limit.

It has to be an original/not already posted piece, that was written specially for the challenge.

It must feature at least one JJK character in a main role.

There is no need for it to be “x Reader”.

Any genre is accepted, but be sure to tag it correctly at the beginning of your fic.

Just to write and have fun with it. I might think of a next challenge with an actual prize, like a fanart or something of that sort, but this is supposed to be a simple bonding experience among writers and readers from the community. By the end of the challenge, I intend to make a masterlist with all of the submitted fics and put it in my pinned post.

All submissions must be POSTED on your own blogs, TAGGING me (@tsukimefuku) and LINKING this challenge at the beginning, after May 26th and until June 21st.

Any story posted for the challenge after that deadline won’t be on the challenge’s masterlist.

Considering this will be an extensive challenge to unite jjk fans and writers across the platform, I’d like to provide writers with a taglist for when they post their stories.

Readers and writer-readers: if you’d like to be on the tag list and support your fav writers works, please fill out this form (link) UNTIL MAY 25TH.

Writers interested in taking part on this challenge: on May 25th I’ll EDIT this post, putting the tag list here at the end for you to use on your fic, so be sure to save this somewhere safe :)

You don’t have to use the tag list, but you can if you want!

And this is it, loves! Hope you all have fun. I know I will 🤓🦉

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storiesoflilies · 2 days

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school bus love (5)

synopsis: it’s high time to throw caution to the wind, don’t you think?

pairing: teen!toji fushiguro x teen!f!reader

warnings: none.

a/n: i just wanted to say that I absolutely adore all the comments saying this drabble series is making you nostalgic. besides me telling you all a bit about myself, the main goal really was to create a slice of life piece that makes people reminisce their school days xo

drabble series / part 4

today was momentous.

freedom was teasing her, dangling sweet summer fruits and the smell of sea salt in front of her. she gritted her teeth, her wrist aching as she frantically wrote the final few sentences of her last question. the clock was ticking, and it would all be over soon.

three.

two.

one…

“that’s it, everyone! time’s up!”

she had never packed up her things so fast in her life, practically shoving her way through the throng of students gathering outside the exam hall. all she could think about was feeling the warm sun on her skin and seeing the patches of blue between the jagged white clouds. today marked the final exam she had to sit, and she was now completely free for the summer.

in a exactly a week’s time, she would be sunning herself on the beach, swimming through crystal-clear waters, and snacking on crunchy slices of watermelon in the shade of palm trees with her best friends. in a week’s time, she would be back home for a whole month, a prospect that should make her buzz with excitement, if not for the nagging reminder of just one thing.

she wouldn’t be seeing toji.

they’d had a handful of conversations over the past three weeks, but nothing more had progressed. she still wasn’t sure if he really liked her, and she was starting to become convinced that she had to cut her losses. it was becoming exhausting overanalyzing toji’s every word, trying to decipher any hidden meanings in his messages and figuring out times when he might have been glancing at her too.

the chase was quite boring without much progress to show for it, and it was a hard pill to swallow that toji probably just wasn’t into her the way she wanted him to be.

she put her headphones and tuned out the world – and all thoughts of toji – attempting to bask in the sheer relief of having finished her exams, which had all gone relatively well. later that night, after pampering herself with an extra self-care routine in the shower, she called her friends for a celebratory gaming session. naturally, she aired out her frustrations about her gorgeous boy.

“i’m just worried the conversation is gonna completely fizzle out, ya know?” she ranted, rapidly clicking her mouse buttons. “it’s not like we’ll be on the bus together anymore.”

“oh my god, girl. i literally agree with your mom,” asa suddenly snapped, taking her aback in shock. “why don’t you just ask him on a date right now?”

“r-right now?” she sputtered. “i can’t do that.”

“why not? if he says no, then you’ll know if he doesn’t like you, and you can move on,” morgoth hummed, a rare voice of reason for once.

that was a whole lot easier said than done.

could she even do something so bold? she doubted she was courageous enough for something like that, and she was still clinging to her little girl dream of being asked out by a boy on her first date. her heart started to pound as it battled with her mind, her soul watching the back and forth she was having within herself.

suddenly, a thread snapped, and the raging waves stilled as if nothing had ever happened.

fuck it.

she left the game, earning cries of protest and anger from her friends, and whipped open her notes app on her phone. if she thought too much, she would chicken out and change her mind. after typing a dozen variations of how she was going to phrase the message, she finally settled on one and quickly copied and pasted it into their snapchat conversation.

hey toji, are you free by any chance to hang out tomorrow? x

and hit send.

oh…

she hit send.

she.

hit.

send.

“holy fucking shit,” she whispered incredulously, a sense of dread spreading from her head to her toes.

morgoth grunted, “what happened now?”

“i just asked toji out on a date tomorrow,” she replied, voice cracking with electric nerves.

her friends both sputtered and coughed at the same time. “fuck off, no you didn’t,” asa said, obviously shell-shocked with a hint of excitement. “tomorrow?!”

“what do you mean ‘fuck off’?! you told me to do it,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and rocking back and forth on her bed.

“hah! well, what did you say?”

“i just asked him if he wanted to hang out tomorrow, and i put an ‘x’ at end to kind of… i don’t know, flirt i guess?”

her friends both cackled, and heat rose to her chest and face.

toji fushiguro is typing…

she gasped, more so screamed, “guys, fuck! oh my god, oh my god! he’s typing.”

“that was quick,” commented morgoth under his breath.

toji fushiguro has sent you a chat!

another shrill gasp. “guys, he replied!”

“leave it!” asa giggled, his giddiness infectious and making her laughter bubble out of her chest. “don’t be a desperate bitch.”

“fuck you, he replied quick! I’m not gonna just sit here and wait.”

toji fushiguro: yeah should be free for a bit tomorrow, when were you thinking?

oh my.

oh my…

“what’s he saying, huh?” asa giggled again.

“something good, i guess. her breathing suddenly got quicker,” morgoth chuckled, his laughter reverberating through his microphone.

hmm not sure haha, whenever you’re free i guess, i’m free all day tomorrow

play it cool. play it cool, goddamn it.

toji fushiguro: yeah, what about some time in the afternoon sure?

yeah sweet, does 4 sound okay or is that too late?

toji fushiguro: yeah 4 should be sweet, sounds good

aight, where do you wanna go? i still don’t know the good places to go to lmao

toji fushiguro: tbh i have no idea, sure like let’s just see when we meet up what you’re feeling

“hehe, guys, he says it’s up to what i’m feeling.”

ahaha ok then, where do you wanna meet up then?

toji fushiguro: oh yeah shit, uh you know where like the big wheel kinda is at the seafront? we could meet up there if you want?

the ferris wheel ahaha?

toji fushiguro: yeah the big wheel ahahah, literally the most recognizable place i could think of in town

haha ok no worries, i’ll see you tomorrow then, i’ll text you when i get there :)

toji fushiguro: yeah see you tomorrow x

she wasn’t a physical being limited to the confines of her bedroom anymore. no, she was limitless and infinite, soaring with ravens among the indigo clouds of twilight, her heart leaping with every sudden dip of their wings. life was good, life was meaningful, and holy shit. toji fushiguro had agreed to go on her very first date ever with her.

“guys.”

“what?”

“he sent me an ‘x’, and we’re going on a date tomorrow.”

general taglist: @tadabzzzbee @wannapizzamymindposts @stromynight

school bus love taglist: @badbyeyoongi

p.s: fun fact, these are the actual text messages i sent to my boyfriend the day i asked him out :3

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji x reader #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen #jjk toji #toji zenin #toji fluff #jjk fluff #toji drabbles #jjk drabbles #toji fushiguro

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akxmee · 1 day

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★ 04. 𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗥𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗦.

"Well? Doesn't this look perfect on me?"

Satoru did a silly twirl in front of you who were sitting on the sofá watching the boys try on the clothes you've bought. He was wearing a white sweater with blue jeans and some casual shoes, nothing too much. Still, he seemed to love it compared to the awful clothes he was wearing a few hours ago. This was comfy and smelled way better, and you knew suguru was thinking about that too from the way he just looked at his clothes with curiosity.

"Perfect as in perfectly horrible? Yeah, you've got a charm for that."

Suguru, who was wearing a simple White T-shirt with some and a pair of black cargos and boots replied, but Satoru didn't even care and just laughed it off, looking at him with a sly smile.

"C'mon, you wished you looked like me. We both know i'm the prettier one."

"Not the favorite though. Right, Y/N?"

You, who had been watching everything in silence, was once again dragged into the most ridiculous conversation for the fifh time today. You sighed.

"Right now i hate you both equally for destroying my savings."

They both smiled, Satoru's being a nervous one and Suguru's an innocent one as if he didn't even know what you meant. The blue eyed boy shrugged, acting as if it was nothing.

"It's okay, choso is probably working extra hard for you today anyways. You will get the money again, no worries."

Suguru nodded. Choso had always been like that, super hardworking and one of your best employees. Everyday he had to go to work he always leaves everything as if he'd never been there; dishes clean, magnificently wiped tables, ordered ingredients and impeccable coffee machines with no stains of spilled milk over them. He did everything with such experience, you were sure he cleaned a lot at home.

Not only that! He was really sweet, and that's maybe why Satoru and Suguru didn't really mind his presence. Satoru has always been an atenttion seeker, and he didn't like people in the house. In the other hand, Suguru was such a calm cat who didn't even care about people coming home. However, both of them seemed happy to see choso everytime he walked through the door.

Talking about Choso, you should actually text him some "thank you" text.

"Sure, sure... Suguru, can you pass me the phone?"

He nodded, grabbing it from a table and extending it to you to grab the object. However, when you reached to do so, he took it back.

"Sorry, that's not how you ask. I think i haven't heard you well."

Suguru coos with a playful tone, waiting for you to catch on. You mumbled a "really?" and looked at satoru for help, but it was to no use. He shook his head.

"My bad, can't help you on this one."

He winked at you, to which you rolled your eyes and looked at Suguru again. You extended your hand.

"Please, Suguru, may i have my phone if you're kind enough?"

"It would be my pleasure."

With that, he handed it to you. You unlocked the screen, looking over the messages until you entered choso's chat.

3 missed calls.

You though about texting him, but if it was something important then you had no time to waste. You called him back, and he picked up in almost no time.

"Hey boss."

His smooth voice sounded from the other line. Something about the way he seemed calm and not in a hurry or in danger relaxed you.

"I told you to stop calling me that, you know that!"

He laughed softly, the sound of utensils being put in the background. "He's still cleaning", you thought.

"Yeah, i may know about that. Anyways, you took long enough to call back."

"I know, sorry. Was your call important when you made it? I was busy.."

You apologize, feeling somehow guilty. He quickly reassured you though.

"No! It was fine. I can tell you now if you're not busy anymore." The sound of keys filled the silence for a second. "I just closed the café, can I come over?"

You immediately looked up, meeting Satoru and suguru with their gaze already on yours. How could he come over with those two like this? The worst part is, they didn't even seem to be worried about it. They just looked at eachother for a minute and then at you, satoru whispering a "yea, why not?" to you while choso waited for an answer. You were still debating and an awkward silence appeared.

"You don't have to say yes if i catch you in a bad moment, you know—"

You interrupted him.

"No! It's okay. You can come over, door's unlocked."

He smiled, but you didn't see it.

"Alright. I'll be there in five."

"See you, choso."

"See you too, boss."

And he hung up before you could even protest. That was fine though, because you had to talk to Suguru and Satoru about how in hell were they planning to do this. You catched their attention, and then asked right away. They looked at you as if you were dumb, like you didn't even know about them.

"Y/N, we're hybrids. We van change into those "Suguru and Satoru " Choso knows as we please."

Geto explained. You remember now, of course! They were always hiding, and the government also mentioned for you all to stay away from as many animals as possible. That made so much sense, and you almost forgot for a second.

"I kid of wanna see Choso again. It's been a while.."

This time satoru talked with certain emotion in his voice, emotion that you were quick to kill in that very moment.

"No you won't; you two are going to stay locked in my room."

Both of their faces turned pale.

"What?!"

Well, deserved.

Both hybrids looked at eachother and sighed accepting their fate. They had something to talk about anyways.

You opened the door, revealing a tired looking Choso still wearing the café uniform and with a bright coloured backpack hanging behind him. He looked at you and hugged you as a greeting, and you patted his back as you hugged back. As you separated from the hug, you walked aside just for him to come inside.

" Wanna come in?"

Choso looked at you and blinked, processing what you said. Then he realized, and his mouth had an "o" saped as he did so.

"Oh..right, i said come over. Don't worry, I don't need to enter. I just came to drop this by, actually."

He took his backpack off and opened it. Now that you looked at it not only did It have a bright neon color, it also had some funny child cartoons srawing. You guessed It was from yuji, his younger brother that he loved dearly based on how many times he could talk about him in just a few hours.

"What is it? I love surprises."

The man chuckled, taking the item out of his backpack already.

"I know for a fact that you do. Here, for you."

He gave you the item, and you grabbed it. It was a rose, a black one. It was in perfect condition, somehow a little bent because of being inside of the backpack, but still pretty. You looked at choso in confused state, to which he responded.

"Some random guy thought you would be doing your shift again today as every week and left It for you. Thought it was cute and promised him to give it to you"

You hummed as you smelled the flower, it was a cute gesture. However, It was kind of creepy for someone to know your shift was today. You didn't actually mind it, since it was something easy to figure out.

"But roses mean love, aren't they too straightfoward?"

You chuckled, jokingly. Choso ran a hand through his hair, thinking about it with a smile.

"I guess you just found yourself a secret admirer then."

"Secret ? Didn't you see him?"

Choso closed his backpack as he listened to your question, debating wether to tell you or not.

"Yeah, i did. But i prefer he talks directly to you, i already did enough of the wingman role." The dark haired man looked at you again and smirked. "But hey, he was totally your type."

"Dear god Choso, just get out of my door if you were trying to set me up with some random guy all along."

He raised his hands in defeat and you both laughed. Yeah, choso was the pure breath of fresh air that you needed right now. Everything has been so stressful, and laughing with your bestfriend at the front door of your house even if it was just for a few minutes was what you needed. The rose detail made it more endearing, even if he wasn't the one who gifted it to you he still took the time to bring it.

You talked with him for a bit. About work today, the secret admirer, weird customers orders and his brother's visit at work. Right, his little brother Yuji. He was the cutest boy in the whole world, and he always passed by to get a cookie and pet the animals at your café when his brother had to work. Sometimes you had to babysit him because choso couldn't, but it was okay since he was such a sweetheart and choso's biggest pride. There wasn't a time where he wouldn't talk about him, and you found that cute about him.

"It's my time to go now. Yuuji's waiting for me to have our movie night, you know."

Choso spoke, and you smiled.

"Of course! Let me know if you need anything. And thank you for covering my shift today, Choso."

"You're welcome, it was nothing. Enjoy your night, Y/N."

Something about the way he said your name as he left was so sweet that your eyes couldn't resist but look at his figure become a shadow and finally disappear as he left the building. He always called you some stupid nickname, so it was nice to hear your name escape from his lips.

You shook your head, closing the door. Now you had two animals to take care of, so you didn't have any time to waste in such irrelevant things. The roses in your hands were left in a pretty jar you had even if you didn't know who gave them to you, they were still too pretty to just throw them out. Yes, you would actually love to know who gave them to you, but it was okay. Choso would tell you sooner or later if you insisted enough anyways, so the main focus right now was your pets.

You walked through the hall, they were supposed to be in your room sleeping, playing or fighting eachother at this moment. As you opened the door and scanned the room, you found out something.

They were nowhere to be found.

Trying to be logical, you looked around the house as you called their names. It wasn't possible for them to leave the house, right? They had nowhere else to go, at least that's what you assumed since they never did this before as pets. You entered every room, looked inside the closet, bathrooms, the balcony..

"Satoru, Suguru! I swear, if this is a joke..!"

Nothing.

They were gone, and they left no trace.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 🌷

—𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥'𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘: i love choso too much istg 😭💕

—𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

@kingshitonly @snake-lover-artist-blog @ashers-playpen @pizza-market @channies-bbg-room @pdacex @spindyl @foliea @queen-luna-007 @labelt-san @shiggys-chapstick @okayiamkassandra

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textmel8r · 3 days

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[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( sixth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six.

୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami

୨୧˚ cw; profanity , mentions of sex

୨୧˚ an; so sorry if anyone asked to be tagged recently and you didn’t get tagged!! tumblr is being screwy again and i can’t see any of my comments😭😭 also apology time from nanami woo hoo!!!

Nanami stole yet another glance at the expensive watch wrapping around his wrist. Your promptness was certainly an issue; how does she show up nearly thirty minutes late to a meeting she called?

And then he scoffs at himself, giving a little shake of the head. Meeting? There he goes again, speaking in corporate tongue.

But finally, you do show up. Bursting through the entrance of the quiet café, making an embarrassing show of noisiness with your heaving breaths and wheezes. Not that it had been much of a disturbance to anyone else—only two other patrons resided in the small establishment; one too engrossed in her book to care, and the other scrolling mindlessly through his cellphone with a pastry in his free hand. Even so, you bashfully clapped two hands together as you peeked around the room. “Sorry!”

The older woman behind the counter nods in appreciation. Nanami can’t help but exhale roughly through his nose in sort of an almost-chuckle. God, you were a mess, weren’t you?

“Sorry, I’m so late!” You approached the table he resumed, one near the front window like you’d asked for. Your heels clopping against the grainy tile, knee-length dress flowing like water around your legs. He stands, walking to the opposite side of the tiny, rectangular table and pulling out the chair for you.

“Impressively late,” Nanami derides, but it’s not full of any malice. Truth be told, he did have the patience of a saint when situations like these were called to question. He didn’t mind waiting, because despite your utter tardiness, he trusted that you'd show up eventually, rather than ditching him altogether and leaving him to sulk in the humiliation of being stood up over a cup of black coffee. You were scatterbrained at times, yes, but dependable? Always.

Nanami returns to his side of the table after pushing your seat in. It wasn't meant to come across as a romantic gesture; Nanami had made it a habit of serving the women in his life nothing but a respectful demeanor. Whether it be lovers, colleagues, friends, and anyone in between. Though admittedly, his behavior towards you these past couple of months has been anything but respectful. It’s too late to start making amends to things, but the least Nanami can do now is try.

You shudder. Flustered, maybe? “Y’didn’t have to do that,” you tell him, placing your phone and clutch bag onto the table.

Nonsense. “My mother would have my head if she knew I let a lady pull out her own seat.” While true—his mother, bless her heart, raised him to be the gentleman his is today—he also just… wanted to do it. It felt right to serve you a seat.

Your elbow slams rudely on the table, finger reaching across to wag in his face. “Sounds like a good woman!” You laugh, and Nanami gingerly swats your hand away. He’s about to say something, but you beat him to the next sentence. “Hey, what gives? I thought this was supposed to be a day of relaxation?”

He worms under the scrutinized glare you wave up and down from his face to neck to chest to abdomen, finally peeking under the table to gawk at his shoes. Nanami curls his toes, a feeble attempt to shrink away from the judgement casted in your eyes. “What? Stop looking at me like that.”

“You’re dressed in fancy-man clothes.” At that, he takes it upon himself to look down at his wear; an ironed dress shirt clung to his chest, tie resting flat and perfectly centered between his pectorals. His slacks were ashy grey and devoid of any wrinkles, cut and hemmed around his ankles just above those stiff, leather shoes snug on his feet. The matching suit jacket was slung neatly over the backrest of Nanami’s chair, sleeves tucked away into its pockets.

His least expensive suit, sure, but still far too pristine and tidy for a little coffee shop outing. "Is it so bad that I like to remain presentable?" Nanami offers the question while he busies his hands, plucking open the pearlescent buttons at his wrists and rolling back the sleeves off the off-white button down.

"Presentability and discomfort don't always go hand in hand, you know. I mean, look at me," your voice echoes the mocking tone of cockiness, clearly a joke but also not at the same time. With a gesture towards yourself, you beam and shimmy in the simple, breezy dress. It had a floral pattern, Nanami notices. "Cute, stylish, and comfortable."

He isn't jumping to disagree with that. "Sorry, all my sun dresses were in the wash." He surprises himself with the jest, but it has you splitting an unladylike snort, so he doesn't come to regret it.

The toe of a thick, wedged heel jabs into his sock-clad ankle. "You business men are all so sassy." Nanami glowers at the adjective chosen to describe him, but doesn't refute. You sigh. "It's fine, I guess. Nothing we can do about it now. Wear some sweats next time though, would you?"

Next time. There’d be a repeat of this?

“Sure.”

“Great.” Your toothy grin beams over your clutch purse, of which is now wrangled in your grabby hands. Rifling through its unorganized contents, dumping out tubes of chapstick, loose change, and sticks of gum onto the table before fishing out a wallet. “Right, I’m starved. Did you look over the menu any?”

Nanami looked it over five times during the wait, if not for anything other than something to pass time. “Not really. Tell me what you recommend.”

You bite. Rambling about the array of pastries and baked goods that have been worthy enough to be placed in the category of y/n’s favorites. Nanami soaks in your excited, leaning in ever so slightly with open ears a you passionately ramble about cake.

“I take it you come here often?”

The question has you nodding. “Like, all the time man. This is my spot, you should be so grateful that I’m not a gatekeeper.” You look back at the menu once more before verbally deciding: “I want pistachio cheesecake and peppermint tea.”

The man poorly stifles his chuckle, rising from his seat. "Alright then, stay here. I'll go order."

"Oh, okay thanks." You shove your wallet into the wall of Nanami's chest, "take my card with you."

He is bewildered that you would even think he'd let you pay for your own meal. "I've got it," Nanami tells you, gently pushing the leather thing back to you.

"Nanami, stop."

"Stop what?"

"Take my fucking wallet," you gnarr, and he thinks you look much like a soaked kitten in this state of agitation. "Don't make me slap you."

It's an unserious threat, but Nanami plays a long. He raises two thick, blonde eyebrows. "Jesus, okay, you win. Just please keep your hands to yourself.” He revels in your little smirk of satisfaction, snatching your wallet back before making his way to the front counter.

Nanami kindly asked for two slices of pistachio cheese cake and two drinks; for you, peppermint tea, and him a coffee, black. Of course, everything was charged to his card. You didn’t need to know that, though.

You scarfed your portion down with swiftness, slinging spoonfuls of chartreuse custard into your mouth with such savagery that Nanami feared you might choke. He was a much more serene sight, preferring to savor each bite between slow swigs of piping coffee. The dark roast complimented the nutty pistachio flavor stunningly. For such a nameless little eatery, the food was exquisite. He takes another calculated bite of cake.

“You like?” The question was garbled behind a mouthful, cheesecake clinging to your milky teeth as you smiled brightly. A childlike excitement radiated warmly off you, clouding across the table to heat him up, too. It was sweet how wired you were, hopeful that he’d, too, enjoy your choice of confection.

Nanami huffs, amused. “Swallow before you choke.” You make a show of swallowing, a big hearty gulp with your eyes squeezed shut. “And yes, I like it a lot. Your tastes are surprisingly refined.”

“Surprisingly?” You gape, offended.

Nanami wants to crack a quip, something referring to your sub-par taste in men, but this little get together was nice. Yeah, it was really nice, actually. So he refrained from ruining it like the asshole he’d been lately, and drowned the snide remark with another toss of coffee. “Sorry, sorry.”

The remainder of the evening was cushy; you both fell into easy conversation about the randomest of topics. Discussions that never breached corporate subject matter, and he was eternally grateful for that. You spoke in tangents, whistling appreciation for a new movie you caught recently, to describing a long list of bands you enjoy, to lamenting about the headache that your minty iced tea sprang upon you: “Ah, brainfreeze!” Nanami doesn’t add much to the conversation, but he is content to listen and provide little hums of encouragement to urge you to keep talking. His eyes, inquisitive honey-colored things, found your lips and stayed there. Despite the uncouth display in which you carry yourself ( Nanami had been itching to tell you to close your legs, what with the way you sit spread-thighed in your seat donning that dress. So careless and unabashed. If the cafe had been a little more crowded, had a little more men around, and he might’ve slipped his foot over the imaginary boundary line to your side underneath the table and nudged them shut himself ) there was an elegance in the way you spoke about topics of interest. Passion flourished from the little curve of your lips, teeth bared in a great smile because you really were just that happy. Nanami feels envious when he watches you.

“I’m shocked at how well this is going.” You grin cheekily, licking cream from the pad of your thumb. “Kind of makes me sad that we didn’t get off on the right foot, you know? I think we could've been good friends.”

“Is it too late for atonement?” Nanami bites back a frown. “I understand if you can never see me as anything other than an asshole. But I never got to formally apologize for my behavior these past few months, Y/n. And I’d like to, if you’ll let me.” Why was this humiliating? It was a seldom occurrence when Nanami was in the wrong, but he was never one to let his faults drift by unaddressed. You deserve an apology—a proper one, not over measly text messages. Still, he miscalculated how awkward this would be.

You flail. “A formal apology? Nanami please, a simple ‘I’m sorry’ will work. It doesn’t have to be a whole thing, I’m mostly over it anyway.” But that was a lie and an obvious one, at that. You weren’t over it, he could see it in your eyes.

The blonde clears his throat and rubs his hands together mindlessly. “No, please. It’s long overdue, and if we’re going to be working in alliance, then you deserve to feel secure with me.” Though Nanami’s hands wrench restlessly, his gaze never detracts from yours. He bares his sincerity in the intense eye contact, offering a peek into his soul. Vulnerability. “I’ve been nothing but rude and ignorant and vulgar towards you, ever since…”

“That night.” You finish for him. “It really upset you, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess it did.”

“Why? Do you have a revulsion to sex or something?”

“What? Wh—I—No, t-that’s not…” Nanami sputtered, his ears growing warm from your accusation. “I don’t… mind sex?”

You play with the dainty straw flouncing around your drink, seemingly oblivious to Nanami’s flummoxed reaction. “You seem to have a strong opinion of whores, though.”

He groans, embarrassed with himself, and drags a palm down his pallor face. “Who you choose to sleep with does not make you a whore. It never did, I was just being petty and grasping at straws for anything that would get a reaction out of you.” Nanami runs his tongue over the roof of his mouth, inwardly wishing that the mug of coffee before him would turn to water so he could cure the dryness that ached in his throat.

“Why go through the trouble?”

Nanami opens his mouth, then closes it. Then opens again, “I don’t know.”

A piss poor attempt at playing the fool. Surely there was a reason for his unabashed cruelty towards you, but what the fuck was it? “Well, when you figure it out, let me know?” To his utter surprise, your expression doesn’t hold an ounce of animosity; you’re smiling at him. Finding humor in any situation had to be your special talent. Nanami nods dumbly. “In the meantime, you’ll just have to start making it up to me. You were a dick, big time.”

“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“Hmmm,” you make a comical show of humming, touching your index to the point of your chin, and now Nanami knows you’re fucking with him. “Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm. I guess I can start the forgiving process if…” A pause for dramatic effect? The man raises his brows expectantly. “You and I make this,” you gesture between both bodies at the table, “a weekly thing.”

Nanami was expecting a punishment, but this suggestion was anything but. “I’ll need to take a look at my schedule first.”

“Listen, man, do what you gotta do. But I’m telling you, we are getting together at least once a weekend.” You scrub the corners of your lips with a napkin before crumpling it into a tight ball and discarding it on your empty plate. Nanami looks down at his own to see a healthy portion of his cake left. Wordlessly, he slides his plate across the table, and you accept the offering with open arms. “Oh shit, thanks! Like I was saying, this is fun, what we’re doing here. You’re having a good time, right?”

Sitting in a desolate coffee shop and listening to you prattle on has been the most fun he’s had in a devastatingly long time. “Yes, I am.”

“Good. You look fun-deprived.”

Fuck, I am. “I’m not.”

“Keep lying, I see through them all.” You scoop the last bite of Nanami’s cheesecake into your mouth, sighing with satisfaction and rubbing over your full tummy. “Anyway, I think hanging out would be good for us. Healthy, you know? Besides, I’ve been dying to know what off-duty Nanami looks like.”

He cracks a chuckle. “He’s nothing special.”

Your finger snaps in his face, invading his bubble of personal space, but this time he doesn’t shoo you off. “Another lie!”

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tags . • @justbelljust @amnmich @ti-mame @silkija @maddietries @vyntagei @ebrysteria @aesukuni @lololooolleonnaaa @nanamiswife22 @r0ckst4rjk @mizzfizz @saiki-enthusiast @taelattecookie @enchantingkitty @kindadolly @reinam00n @hqtoge @syamamas @numblytemporary @xxravenxstarxx-blog @bloomedintome @guacam011y @jameinfrau @luvvmae @kazisupreme @nowhoremones @https-tank @venjrnjrbhrr19 @ya9amicide @darkstarlight82

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SORCERER DRIVE!

༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ PAIRINGSؘ: Pervert Neighbor!Gojo Satoru x Fem!reader

˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ WORD COUNT: 12.2k

˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ CW: dubcon, noncon voyeurism, perverted themes, teasing, exhibtionism, groping, male masturbation, use of sex toy, talks of wet dreams, phone sex, implied voice kink, oral(f & m receiving) fingering, heavy clit play, slight themes of possessiveness (gojo just really wants you) public sex, multiple orgasms, begging, pussydrunk!Gojo, couch sex, pussywhipped!Gojo, creampie, overstimulation, aftercare

˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄XOXO, CHRIS: It’s finally here :))) Literally so proud of this fic. I put aside all my other wips for this and God, I’m just so excited to share it with you guys :P

˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ WANT MORE?ؘ

pt. 2 ft. Toji (TBD)

Sorcerer Drive.

It’s a quiet neighborhood away from the buzz of the city, casted away by freshly cut grass, swaying trees, and a piece of mind. The suburban street holds twelve pristine homes—no more and no less. Some of these homes hold couples, families, and even singles; all escaping from the hectic life of the city. Its occupants aren’t what many would call typical however, each life sharing in its vibrancy.

Sorcerer Drive is also home to one Gojo Satoru, the twenty-eight-year-old man of unhinged transparency. He’s kind, open with his home, his heart—and his intentions. He’s persistent, a little too persistent to get exactly what he wants. His signature ruse of soft words and sly manners are all cause for harm, stringing along one too many housewives during the days he had off.

He knows it’s wrong to invade but it’s the attention he seeks, longing to fill some hole in his iron-clad heart. Every woman he sets his eyes on can never really commit to Gojo, some wary of his hidden natures. His sought-out success is usually foiled by the first date, ruined by a degrading facet he can’t repress all that well. It’s unfitting for a man like him to act in such a way, unable to subdue his perverse ways.

As far as Gojo’s aware, he’s always been like this, falling apart in the presence of women. He can’t help it, the desire that sits deep within his belly. There’s something about a woman that throws all of Gojo’s coherency out the window and pulls his insatiability to mind. He’s dangerously in love with every quality of those who tease his eye. He can’t go without wondering how his latest muse would look beneath him.

Even in his neighborhood, his perverted tendencies still bled through his new persona. He’d stare at whatever crossed his way—the tops of breasts jiggling during the morning runs of the housewives, snapping pictures of the many panties slips creeping out from the shortest of dresses at cookouts, even shamelessly ogling at how the wives shower their husbands in kisses.

Block parties were his favorite, he’s cocky with the husbands but flirty with the housewives. He knows all the tricks to pull, what to say, where to touch playfully, just to simply chase some fleeting attention for those around him—solely to end with him gaining yet another enemy.

Yet, in the three years he’s lived in the quiet neighborhood, Gojo’s never known what the company of a woman can do for him. None have ever been welcoming of his antics, both bold and suggestive. He only thrives off what surrounds him, gathering his collective moments of joy.

And it’s been that tragic cycle for as long as he’s known…until fate pulled on his tattered string.

There’s a house before his own, a shade of a pretty blue with its complements of white. And for as long as Gojo’s lived on the street, it’s never known the feeling of holding life. However, it wasn’t until just a few days ago that the desperate call for company was answered, the pitted sale sign finally freed from its staked prison.

Upon sight of the sign’s removal, Gojo’s imagination hasn’t found rest. He could begin to think of who his mystery neighbor could be—though, he hoped for a beautiful woman without the strings of a relationship or a family. He hoped for someone who was free for bonds of a family, could take in him for all he was, perfections and flaws alike.

Even now, he’s found himself whisked into the fantasy world of his living room window, watching the gathering clutter of brown boxes on the lawn of the neighboring house. Why, Gojo’s bubbling with an excitement so rich, he’s abandoned the breakfast he’s worked so hard to prepare. The icy hues of his eyes linger along every corner of the opposing house’s window, desperate to gain some insight into his soon-to-be acquaintance.

It’s almost unlike Gojo to express such childish whimsy, his fair skin roused with a cherry bliss. The highs of his cheeks and ears share in the same reality, dusted in its whimsical pink glow. The trilling giggles roll from his tongue, warming the air in its purity. He’s never found himself in such a state as this one, unsure of what really brews in the back of his mind.

He knows it’s something. It could be the joy of having a new face in the neighborhood, one who has yet to learn of his true natures. It could be the mystery clouding around said face, though he prays it’s the woman of his dreams. Needless to say, his reaction is a mindless one, the spill of words riddled with the confusion of intrigue and lust.

“God, I think I’m in love!”

A strained groan cuts through the air, Gojo’s uttering met with his own resistance. He’s reluctant to give into himself but can’t find anything to do except that. There’s a chance that his inspiring thoughts could be for naught, only to be met with the harsh reality awaiting him. The thick digits of his hand strum through the pure white locks of his hair, paired with a fatal sigh breaking the air.

Whether he is right or wrong. Gojo knows he alone stands in the way of discovering the truth. It’s because of that realization that he can swallow down his nerves—and pride—to make the first move in the unofficial game of cat and mouse, peeling away from his kitchen window and slipping out through his back door.

That lone thought fuels him, knowing that has to uncover the mystery before anyone else gets their hands on his muse. Gojo simply had to make the first impression, gathering his abundance of confidence to stroll through his front door, large hands sinking deep into the pockets of his navy slacks.

Dizziness dots his sights with patchy stars and all Gojo can do is bear the grave thumps of his heart clogging his sanities. “So much for that dopey build of confidence, huh Satoru?” the sole muttering to pass through Gojo’s lips as the fog of doubt doubles in its weight.

It’s the possibility that his hopes could be shattered upon the reveal of who now dons the title of his neighbor. He knows his whims can’t manifest into the woman of his dream but maybe the universe can smile down on him just this once…right?

Gojo peels his hands from his pockets, allowing for the pad of his digit to linger over the small button of a doorbell for a moment. He’s already come so far for second thought, being overwhelmed by the sinister blend of intrigue and lust flourishing all too well in his veins. The pearly whites of his teeth sink into the plush of his lips as he takes in a final breath, his finger pressing gently against the doorbell.

In a matter of seconds, the white door rips open from its post, revealing to Gojo a sight for sore eyes. It’s a dream turned into reality as the door rips from its post, all of his whims manifesting before his blown eyes.

Gojo’s breathing it all in, the woman leaning against the door’s frame with an arm braced for balance. He can’t begin to comprehend his thoughts, the composure he’s lost within moments gone to the wind. The heavy thumps of his heart chime at his ears once more the longer Gojo stares at your disinterest, a frigid wash of nerves licking across his skin.

There’s uncaringness riddled in the hues of your eyes—— the annoyance of interruption bleeding through to your spoken words.

“Listen, for the last time, I just moved here. I don’t wanna sign up for the—oh…hello there.”

Gojo’s still stifled in his thoughts, the presence of you rendering him numb. He had yet to speak without removing his eyes from you, scanning down the luscious curves hidden beneath the silk black robe. He clings to a scene quite particular in his favor, the supple mounds of your cleavage spilling from the robe.

“Um…,” your tone soaked in tender concern, eyelids narrowing in sight at the stricken man, “You look a little red in the face, sir. Are you okay, do you need some water or–”

The sinister blend of intrigue and lust flourish all too well in his veins as Gojo’s hand rushes to cut the air, the brash attempt to hold contact with you.

“I’m Gojo Satoru, 28 years old and I live right there, across the street…from…you!” His cherry-tipped ears are met with the delight of a giggle, your soft palm slipping into his own.

“Nice to meet you, Gojo. I’m Y/N! Call me your new neighbor!”

Gojo nods at your words, battling his snowflake-like lashes. He’s managed to pull you into a senseless conversation about the neighborhood, linked hands losing their strength. Your burning questions should matter to him, but Gojo’s too enthralled at serving his palm passing glances, the tingling warmth dancing about his skin.

“Fuck, can’t wait to see if her hand’s this soft ‘round me. S’ soft and warm, just squeezing at every inch of me,” Gojo’s unfiltered thoughts wandering to unreached highs.

It’s lewd in the way Gojo thinks, his mind far more deranged than what he’s led to believe. A switch flicks in his brain, his pervasive tendencies edging to ruin what facade he’s worked so hard to withhold. He’s seconds into a cliché trial of small talk, but can’t ignore how puffy your lips get when his words pull a giggle from your chest, or how your fingers rattled along the frame mindlessly.

It has him pondering—imagining—how puffy your lips could become against his own, smothered in a mess of spit and sparse bites. His cock thumps at the lewd thought, hoping that one day your thumb would work the same mindless pattern along his blushed head as you do to the wooden frame.

And he has yet to address the way your legs cross in your leaned stance, his thoughts hinged on the bundle of warmth residing between the chub of your inner thighs. He, your robe highlighting the little bow of your panties imprinting itself through the thin robe. One wrong move and he’ll see it all, the fat lips of your cunt just barely fitted behind pesky sheets of fabric.

Yet he’s so desperate to maintain the peace that Gojo has no choice but to shed his immoral self, his laggard breaths setting onto a steady pace. A subtle shake of his head is all it takes for what moments he can get, following his way back into the closing conversation.

“Well, I hope to see you around, Gojo.”

Maddening is the only thing fit to describe Gojo’s state, desperately searching to earn a minute more of his presence. He simply couldn’t return home, at least not yet. How could he willingly turn back knowing that you—the woman of his dreams—existed within fifteen feet of his reach? He had to find a way to entrap you, ensure that he’d be the only man to ever enter the temple of your home.

“W-Wait! If you ever—and I mean ever— need me for an extra pair of hands, I’m right here…unless your husband isn’t okay with that?”

“Oh, that’s not gonna be possible…considering that I’ve been divorced for the past two years. But since you’re offering, I’ll call on you!”

Before the moment can end, Gojo digs into his back pocket, pulling his phone out as another conversational segway.

“Can I get your number then? Makes it easier for both you and me.”

Gojo watches as you take the phone from him, thumbs typing away at the ten digits needed. He studies the focus that shrouds your features, imprinting every detail he can take. The gentle coo of your voice breaks his concentration, does eyes of a frigid blue falling in line with you.

“Here you go, hopefully, you’ll get a call soon…Gojo.”

All you do is give Gojo a giddy smile as you place the device back into his palm, before waving goodbye, bringing the door in delayed haste. You don’t know what you’ve done by revealing that detail to Gojo, the man stiff with an impressional glee.

The limited interaction plagues Gojo’s mind for the day’s remainder, the evening rolling around through his feverish daze. It’s been ensnared in his brain longer than he’s anticipated, his lewd thoughts following him into the night’s shower.

Water droplets bloom against his skin, washing away the snowy suds of soap and a sliver of his day’s sins. Gojo believed he had a handle on himself as he showered—until the white noise of silence leads his troubled mind to stray. He can’t get over how perfect you are, your smile, your voice, down to how the robe just barely protected you from him. He’d be lying if he didn’t want to see more, remembering how his digits twitch with the absurdity to strip your body down to the beauty of bare skin.

It’s such a thought that Gojo couldn’t help himself, his cock strained with a painful urge. Each droplet of the showerhead’s water struck him heavier than the last. The whimpers that rip from his chest are nothing short of chilling disgust. He didn’t want to lace his shaky hand around the thick tip, sealing the spry nerves in an etching fist.

His need for release has him so weak, his body trusting the brace of his forehead against the gray tile. He can’t ignore the ghastly sensitivity his body is forced to endure. From the building steam clouding his tiled chamber, his robust shower gel slicking him a cold sheen, he’s nearly crumbled beneath his own mundane actions.

Did you have to dress so freely, innocently provoking the hellish terror residing deep inside Gojo’s stomach. The pulling gush has yet to suspend, its heat swelling at his balls. He can feel the bloat of cum growing heavier than he’s ever bared.

That’s why Gojo brings his eyes to a close, filthy scenes obscuring his mind with images of you naked on his bed. He can see everything so clearly it’s utterly shameful—those legs of yours parted just for him, dainty fingers working hard at the cute bulb of your clit. Gentle, soft enough to coax shivering pretty moans from your chest. Gojo’s mentally noting how your touch trails between your folds to your glossy slit, two fingers barely fitting inside.

The tips of his digits tease the inflamed head of his cock with whispy swipes, foamy bubbles of pre trickling past his worked knuckles. Yet the crippling sensation isn’t enough for Gojo, bringing the full brute of his strength to strum about his cock. He doesn’t even have time to admire how his veins rise to meet his touch, the overwhelming rush of blood causing his head to spin.

“Just like that, k-keep going,—fuck, you’re so tight!”

He’s hung on the sight of you, weakened hips hoisting into the air with the swift delves of your fingers scarcely stretching your slit. There’s no comparison in his mind, knowing that your digits could never reach as deep as his cock could. You’re just barely scratching the surface of your body as far as he believes, leaving so much untouched yet so much to be discovered. He can almost hear you too, his mind conjuring the sweetest coos he has but to indulge.

At that alone, Gojo’s body falls into a shuddering hunch, his back folding at the breathless stir in his lungs. His slender hand lays waste to his poor cock, careless strides roaming from base to tip. To Gojo’s demise, it’s all in vain. He can’t handle the recoils of his strokes, the insufferable drag towards the bed of messy white hair freeing breathless moans from his chest. Even the force he strived to maintain shattered in his hands, bare thighs bearing the rippling waves stinging at his balls.

“You’re gonna keep playing with that pretty pussy fr’ me, right? I—fuck—need you to, Baby…‘m so close!”

His precum’s sticky when it spreads further across the expanse of his cock, the vile squelches echoing in his ear. He only seems to be growing more within his hand, bigger, thicker, and farther from his envied high.

“Fuckfuckfuck, I wanna cum for you, Y/N! S’ bad! Wanna watch it drip everywhere, your tits, cute funny, all over your pussy! I j-just wann—“

The rushing spill of white rinses over Gojo’s hand, the beads of water rising away his sins. Through the huffs of his emptied lungs, he stands in dismay, watching every drop wither into the abyss of nothing. His hand softly smacks the wall of the shower, quivering lips muttering his final thoughts.

“You weren’t supposed to waste it, Princess. All my hard work…gone like that.”

Regret sets in as a sigh empties from Gojo’s chest, his weary hand turning the shiny valve. The water’s suspension seals the last of his misfortune, the man returning to reality when he steps from the glass chamber. Disgust doesn’t resonate with Gojo as he peers into his mirror, imprints of steam drifting across the glass. It’s a passing glance but one he’s dangerously proud of amidst strolling towards his dimmed bedroom.

His digits reach for the towels he’s laid across the mahogany duvets, the contrasting fibers grazing across his skin. Gojo’s inches from it before a sight like no other catches his greedy eye, eyelids parting in pure shock.

To his unfortunate luck, the windows of his bedroom peer straight into yours—one free of any coverage as of now.

It’s a sight he knows he’s too blessed for, your body sheathed in the plush towel of white. It’s clingy, hinged on every curve of your figure. A squint is forced upon Gojo as he focuses on you, watching the faint sheet of fluff unravel at a single tug. Lust consumes him, clouded hues gawking at the plump swells of your chest and the curves of your physique, all set in his untimely direction.

Gojo’s hand settles over his chest, hardened pads drifting down to his flittering abs. He can’t believe it, how dumb you could be to allow a man like him to gaze at the divine physique of your body. A feeble pry claws at Gojo’s fading will, pulling him to fall onto his bed.

He gives you one final glance before whimpering out his distressing plea.

“Look at you, so close but so far…’nd you’re so perfect.”

His hand slips into the top drawer of his bedside, the shameful shell of his beloved pocket pussy falling into his grasp. Was it wrong of Gojo to get off to his explicit thought once more? Even going as far as to use what scene he had of you for entertainment?

Why...of course not.

His digits race to greet his mouth, the makeshift cup pooling with his spit. All it takes is a single rushed stroke to coat his length in the threaded gloss, eagerly nuzzling the slit of the toy over his own.

He’s swift to feed the growing impatience, pulling the toy to loosely hang around the tip of his cock. Sensitivity aided in his hand, the stings of the recent orgasm lingering at the forefront of his brain. Everything’s still clouded to Gojo, the blinding pulls along his girth to bring him to the present.

It soon became a harsh pill to swallow, that pit in his stomach deepening. He’s studying how the toy’s lips spread around his cock, the scene shrouding a haze of disgust over him. It’s nothing as he wishes it to be, no warmth, no gush, no heavenly moans begging for him to slow down. The feeling’s merely sinking deeper in Gojo’s mind, his body falling flat onto the bed at last.

“S-Shit…it’s not tight enough—fuck!”

His grip couldn’t afford to be any more endearing, his throbbing cock engulfed in a numbing squeeze. In truth, Gojo wasn’t sure what he was so desperate for, giving aim to an unsure goal. His hand could squeeze, swivel, and pull at his shaft all they wanted, but nothing can ever compare to the anticipation of having you clamped around him, struggling to take each fattened inch. He has yet to comprehend what has his hips jolting to meet the toy’s sad excuse for a cervix, or why his lust for you brought along gravitating rivers of sweat to lave across his scorned body.

“I-I can’t even– it’s no good, ‘m not gonna cum when the real thing is right there,” the summoning of Gojo’s desperate call to awaken. He’s aggravated with urgency, anxious to cum, but all the while, can’t commit to chasing the sweet high. The wretched pocket pussy gets paid a mere gaze, only to be ripped off his twitching cock with strings of glimmering precum in tow.

He wants to be the bigger person, to shut his own blinds out of respect...then again, Gojo isn’t that kind in both morals or character. Laying in his own misery, he stole a few gaps at you, grinning at how the night’s attire of a white tank and pink panties suited you best.

Amidst his gaudy oglings, sleep edges at his mind as heavy eyelids follow in the sun’s setting path. Gojo giggles to himself before mouthing off once more, ensuring that his mischievous dreams, and desires would soon manifest in his hands.

“Pray for the day I get my hands on you, Y/N. I swear I’m never letting go.”

Those words loom over Gojo’s head for the duration of the week, serving as a reminder to him. Why, he has to be on his best behavior for you, pitting all his perverted mannerisms to rot. During the day, he catches you on your daily expedition to the mailbox for idle chatter. It’s a fleeting few minutes but Gojo learns more and more about you. Within the days he’s caught your attention, he’s learned about your occupation, your favorite foods, and films.

He’s saving all these trivial exchanges for a certain day—like today— for when Gojo crosses your path again, a day written by the Gods themselves.

Since he had the chance to meet you, Gojo’s thoughts have revolved around you and only you. Your smile, your laugh, the way your nose scrunches while deep in thought—all of it, Gojo’s been hung up on. His days are spent on you, thoughts and imagination dedicated to you and you alone. He can’t help but reminisce on the minutes he’d spend with you, the mere trade of words igniting a hidden facet in his heart.

He’s unsure of what to call it, the very thing that hinders his day-to-day life as of late. He’s too intrigued to call it a crush but wouldn’t dare tread the lines of obsession. It’s a conflicting matter for one such as him, one that tests every fiber in Gojo’s being.

He’s never been so attentive to someone other than himself before, his interest in you surpassing the field of lust alone. He can spend hours just thinking about you, how you smiled at him the first time with such care, how you made him melt beneath your gaze.

He isn’t one to form connections, attachment never did serve the man well. Though, at the face of your arrival to the neighborhood, Gojo’s once paraded lifestyle now hints at the inevitable downfall. He’s suddenly frantic for your attention, yet shied away from his sprouts of self-doubt. He’s afraid to admit just how much he wants you, to have you around him at every waking moment.

For now, he resorts to the method he knows best, taking to his living room window to catch every rare appearance you’d make. Whether it be you walking down to the mailbox, discarding the next round of moving boxes, or simply stepping out to watch the sunset, Gojo sought to capture it all.

But today brings its own fruits of bliss, providing Gojo with the hand-delivered game of chance. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, you hoisting the next batch of trash out to the front lawn.

Yet, there’s something different in him, Gojo pinned to his favorite place amongst his living room window. Sure, he’s observing as you drag the next ensemble of boxes behind your heels, but that’s not what has his attention piqued.

He should be used to it by now, all the short outfits you’ve flaunted to the outside world. But nothing could compare to the pure lamb white tank and matching skirt adorning your curves. He can’t seem to take his eyes away from the cute pout breaks across your visage.

A furrowed brow, lips fostering a glossy pout and puffy cheeks limp with fatigue all entice Gojo to lengths even he can’t comprehend. He can tell you need some guidance, someone to tell you where to go from there.

Gojo’s more inclined to stand to his feet now, strolling to his front door once again. The sweep of deja vu settles onto him is chilling, the same cycle of steps repeating themselves. Just like the day he’d recognized your presence, Gojo can’t do anything but approach you with careful steps.

He’s brought to the scene in the lewdest of ways—you bent over the growing batch of folded cardboard. It doesn’t help that his ear picks up on every feeble whimper that escapes from your mouth, the clear frustration written in your voice. He is undoubtedly without shame as his gaze graces your body, grinning at how your panties tease past the edge of your skirt.

You’re so cute like this, too caught up in your own little world to notice Gojo’s staggering build towering behind you. He could stay like this forever, watching as you continuously shift through the clutter.

As pure as it’s intended, sin never lurks too far when it comes to Gojo. His hands slip into his pockets without delay, stretching the fabric of his navy slacks to conceal the growing bulge. It’s not his fault your skirt falls so short of you, but he isn’t one to complain either. The sight only triggers that devious side of him, firing all sorts of thoughts to cloud his tainted brain.

Gojo knows he can’t get ahead of himself, not when he still has to maintain his fragile impression around you. All it takes for a single huff of air to crowd Gojo’s lungs for him to speak at last, the spiteful smirk embedded behind his words.

“Quite the mess you’ve got here. The recycling truck only comes once every other week, y’know.”

The bit of insight he offers is enough to pull your attention elsewhere, your head whipping around to meet his lidded regards.

“Oh, hi Gojo! I know, right?! It’s even more of a mess inside too!”

Gojo takes the chance to close the distance, leaning over your hunched form gradually. His head falls into a timely tilt, allowing him to breathe in the shift in nature befalling you. Suddenly, ripples of blinks overtake your eyelids, lips faltering to hold fast to the pretty pout. He seals your brash flusters with the soft hum of his voice, the warmth of his breath fanning across the tip of your nose.

“Well…aren’t you gonna ask me for help? I do remember saying I’d be here to give you an extra pair of hands for all your…problems.”

There’s a silence falling amongst you both, the eyes of you two falling into a blurred line. Gojo’d be lying if he said he didn’t succumb to you too, the exterior of smug pride crumbling with each second. Sure, Gojo has you stifled in your steps, forced to endure the sweltering heat of his stare—but he’s the one that suffers in the end. Waves of heat strum throughout his body, laying claim to the highs of his cheeks and ears alike. His chest lags in the slightest of breaths, the uneven pace coming to light.

His ears perk at the aimless whimpers spilling from your mouth, ensuring that your body shares in the same symptoms—uneased breaths, flares of heat, and uncertainty pitted deep within your belly. He wants to reach out, hoping his hand could bring you down from the fluttering gates of nirvana. It takes for the tiny squeak of your voice’s inquiry to break the fallen silence.

“Can you…help me fix the inside…please? I’d appreciate it so much!”

“ ‘Course I will! Just lead the way, beautiful!”

You offer Gojo a pleasant nod before turning from him, dainty hands clutching at your chest. Within a matter of moments, he’d so easily brought you to your knees. From his sly grin, his overwhelming allure, down to the very way he seems to keep a specific look for you, Gojo could just as easily have you wrapped around his finger should he say the words.

“Over there, I need the most help in the kitchen,” your hand pointing in the appropriate direction as you close the door behind him.

Gojo encounters your sights for a brief moment more, a toothy grin spreading itself thin as he explores your home. Finally, he has you to himself, free from any wandering eyes to be found along the block.

“It’s nice in here, Y/N. I see you like the finer things, just something else we have in common.”

“Thanks, but wait till everything’s in place, finish cleaning and arranging…it’s gonna be great!”

You pay Gojo one final glare of amusement, the teasing stares pulling you both towards the unkempt vast of the kitchen. There’s a certain set of cabinets that call your attention, the blanched wood doors wide in welcomes your gaze. Your finger points to the plates before you, recalling the details of Gojo’s task.

“Since you’re tall, can you put the plates up in the cabinet? I’ll put the pots and pans in the lower cabinets.”

A cheeky smile is all it takes for Gojo to oblige, breaking his looming stare to tend to his assignments. Though, as much as Gojo wants to help you out, he truly can’t. Within the placement of one plate, his focus finds means elsewhere, those blue eyes hinged on you beside him.

How could he carry on such a leisure task when he has you so close to him, the curve of your ass just hugging at the thighs of his pants. There’s so much to unfold and too much for him to ignore—the bend consuming your body revealing more than he deserves. The warmth of your skin pecks at his skin, a thrill of heat surfacing to your touch.

You’re soft against him, brushing a silky plush donning the title of your skin. He just doesn’t get it, why must your skirt be so short teasing the whims of a man like himself? He wants to look away, savor the time he’s been given with you thoughtfully…

But damn it all when you dip forward to better your reach, the silhouette of your cunt sucking through the thin inseam of your black lace panties. For a moment—just a brief moment—Gojo’s blessed with the delicate curves of your clothed pussy.

It’s tantalizing to him, pulling his mind to an unmatched euphoria. His mind is swift to flood with his lewd thoughts, hoping that one day he hopes to endure the forbidden sight of your cunt’s lips splitting around his cock.

“Oh fuck!” his inner thoughts coming to light. He’s swift to conceal the slip of his words with a cough, the deep draw straining his throat. It’s enough for you to jolt, bouncing back onto your feet to tend to Gojo.

“Gojo! Wait, I’ll get you a cup of wat—”

Before you can even think, the brash pads of Gojo’s hand lace your dainty fingers into his own. He pulls your hand to the plush pink curves of his lips, placing a lingering peck along your laxed knuckles. His free hand slips to fill the small of your back, pulling you to crash against the chest of his black sweater.

“Well, well well, look at you, racing around to help little ole’ me…just knew you were perfect fr’ me.”

His eyes flicker over you once more, a rush of thrill licking at his skin. The question he has is heavy, sits a little too heavy on his chest. That’s why he has to say it—to free himself of his one true desire.

“Let me take you out…tonight. I can show you around town, show you all my favorite spots and more.”

“A date? Already? We just met, Gojo…I don’t…”

A cast of hesitation settles onto you both, a tension so thick that neither of you could withdraw. Gravity condemns you to his side, body falling prey to Gojo’s allure. There’s something about the man that compels you, the saccharine tone of persuasion dripping from his voice. He could put you in a trance and you’d be at his every whim, that alone serving as your conclusion.

“Okay, pick me up around seven. I’m kinda tired of being surrounded by so many boxes and dust.”

Gojo presses a final kiss onto your knuckles before breaking away from you, an indescribable elation written across his features.

“I promise you won’t regret it. I’ll make the night worth your while.”

With that, Gojo left from your side, unable to wipe the stupid grin from his face. A date with the woman of his dreams, the thought alone pulling nervous flutters from his heart.

Through a passing glance, he manages to catch a glimpse of the digital clock embedded in the stovetop: 4:30 pm.

From the moment he left your home and entered his own, ensuring your good favor was all that weighed heavy on Gojo’s mind. He simply had to win you over, knowing that you too shared some interest in him.

It’s the first time in a long time that Gojo’s felt this way, endowed to someone other than himself. In Gojo’s eyes, to have you is to have all the riches in the world. He knows there’s something so different about you, something that sets his body aflame.

That’s why in the hours he has left to prepare for the impromptu date, he puts in all the effort to become the best version of himself. From grooming his closet for the finest outfit—stone gray slacks, a mauve silk button, and his favorite set of leather black loafers— picking up a bouquet of white roses for good measure, and rushing to arrange reservations at the nearest restaurant a few block away, Gojo knew he’d have to use all the tricks in his arsenal to eventually call you his one day.

By the time seven did set in, Gojo brought himself to stand right outside your door, wearing that stupid smile once more. The nerves have yet to settle beneath his fair skin, flairs of red ripping across his cheeks and ears alike. Before he can bring his finger to press the small button, deja vu befalls Gojo again.

He’s welcomed by the sight of you, dressed in an orange satin mini dress. His eyes hang upon every inch of you, the dress’ low cut neckline especially appealing to Gojo’s taste, coaxing the corners of his lips to tease with a smirk.

He hands you the bundle of florals carefully, allowing his fingers to graze along your own for a moment. Gojo lets his head fall into a tilt, plush lips of pink curving as he watches your expression bloom into a whimsical grim.

“Don’t you look perfect? The color suits you, Gorgeous.”

“Aw, why thank you! But first…tell me where we’re going…please?”

“Like I said, I wanna show you around. There’s a nice restaurant a few blocks from where we’re walking to, I think you’ll like it.” He lets his hand fall from the bouquet to brush along your waist, the mere weight of his touch drawing you to rest against his chest. The pinning force melds within his heart as he’s finally introduced to your body’s warmth, a subtle sigh escaping from his lungs.

“Let’s get goin’ I wanna spend as much time with you as I can…y’know, being a gentleman and all.”

The words Gojo utters aren’t so much spoken for your liking, as they are to him—a reminder of the persona he wears tonight. And for the night, he swore to maintain his composure, to keep his dangerous thoughts away in order to hit every mark with you.

A final glance of exchanges takes its place between you both before the journey begins, Gojo leading with you by his side.

“Gojo…who lives in that house?” you hand motioning towards the passing house. Gojo’s eyes fall into a squint, a scoff trailing from out his lips at the realization.

“Oh...that’s Toji Fushiguro. I heard he’s in his forties and lives alone in the house. But, he’s someone you should stay away from, especially when you’ve got me,” he teases, using all his efforts to distract you from Toji’s burning stare.

Your eyes linger on him for a moment longer, such imbues of green searing into your memory. He’s not one to forget, the man lounging upon his porch with a smoke in hand. His eyes are murky with an unseen objective, the lingering leer fading away with a salacious wink doused in trouble. A gasp escapes from your lips at his notion, intrigue bubbling high among your sentiments.

“He seems interesting, though…” the last review you give Toji before he’s out of sight.

It isn’t long before you reach the restaurant, the soft twinkle of lights meeting your eye. The quaint establishment holds no more than a few, the other patrons spread thin across the restaurant floor. You and Gojo found yourselves towards the back, a table free from the immediate presence of others.

The tension between you both is one of a thickened atmosphere, both of you itching to solve the mystery of each other. Rather than ask Gojo your burning question, you wait an assured time without interruption, the opportunity presenting itself minutes after the waiter receives the orders of dinner.

You find yourself pulled towards Gojo, his speechlessness creating an aura of enticement for your favor. Your eyes suffer the weight of intrigue, eyelids heavy with an underlying taunt of lust. Your hands fold beneath your chin for support, the gradual silence coming to an end.

“Tell me Gojo, why are you single? You’re such a handsome man with a really smooth personality, it honestly shocks me that you are.”

Gojo’s hand rises from the white tablecloth, slender rubbing at the point of his chin. It’s a question he’s addressed but has yet to confront the clauses of such an inquiry. He knows the answer through and through but knows he’ll scare you—the woman he’s been waiting for— away. But he prays you’ll understand him, understand why he is the way he is and accept all that came with him. He gives you one wavering glance before replying, a hefty sigh guiding the spill of words.

“Why am I single?...it’s more than what you’d believe, Princess. I’m not all that…accepted, to put it shortly. And I can’t be with someone who doesn’t accept all of me, right?”

Eager to close the distance, Gojo pits himself inches from you, a lazy stare lurking across your placid visage. You’re eager for an answer, that much is enlightened to Gojo through the thick shroud of silence. He grants your burning question with another facer to be uncovered, the question rolling off his tongue with sinful ease.

“Can you accept all of me? All it takes is a date to know if you wanna put up with someone…so does that same ideal—Oh, look at that, I dropped my fork.”

You watch as Gojo sinks beneath his seat towards the burgundy carpet. All’s quiet for the seconds your date spends hidden underneath the table…all until the vibrations of your phone earn your distant attention. Bringing the call to your ear, your voice leads the conservation with a shushed giggle, your head tilting in a blissful delight.

“Is there a reason you’re calling me from under the table, Gojo?”

“Of course there’s a reason, I want you to hear everything I have to say…”

The tips of Gojo’s digits brush along the prominent curve of your thigh. A heft of warmth follows his breath as he inches towards you, brimming your skin with a chilling lick of desire. It’s almost embarrassing for you to admit, the swirling flame crowding at the dormant bulb of your clit. There’s a prowling heat that consumes your cunt, the plunging weight wedged between your poor walls. A bare squeak rips from your lungs, only to fade beneath the barrage of Gojo’s speech.

“You asked why I’m single, it’s true that no woman has really accepted me…but there’s more to it. I’m a mess when it comes to love, I let lust run as high as my heart and no one has really kept up with me because of that. As for you, my pretty girl…you’re so cute, so perfect for me to ruin. From the moment we met, I just knew you were the woman of my dreams. There’s something hidden deep within you—and I wanna be the one to bring it out.”

“So then, you wanna–”

“I wanna lose myself in you. Touch you, kiss you, call you mine, I just want you so bad it hurts.”

You can’t comprehend how fast Gojo’s fingers sneak beneath your dress to tug at your panties. Then again, you can’t begin to comprehend how fast you’ve fallen at his pleas, your thighs breaking from the harsh clasp for his head to fill the space. It’s the anticipation that has you this wet, what has your skin inflamed with spry nerves, the thrill of Gojo indulging in your pussy within the company just surrounding the promiscuous atmosphere.

The plea laced behind his pants brought along a course of thirst throughout your body. You can’t wait for it, the soft heat of his tongue dragging through your folds, strides of spit melting with your nectar, the moans pried from the depths of his chest. The thin cloth suddenly grows to be an annoyance, your hips bucking to wedge the cinched waistband from its post.

“Please…please, let me do it. I just wanna make you feel good, just me and me only.

“Fuck, Gojo, I–”

At the sound of your voice, Gojo finally allows himself to falter in your stead, shedding the kind persona he’d donned for the night. His fingers tug the pesky panties of yours down your legs, the limp white cotton bunched at your ankles. His touch drifts further across your body, a gentle rattle against your skin forcing your thighs apart.

Gojo can’t resist it any longer, the vast of his palm breaking from your thigh. The tips of fingers trace the curves of your cunt’s lip in tease, parting the plushy mounds to reveal the ness awaiting him. The sticky unclasp echoes in his ears, a hiss of resistance cutting through the air.

He’s met by the salacious mess of your pussy, the puffy lips breaking from the sticky hold. It’s more than he expected, the glossy strands of your essence dripping from the hood of your clit. The patterns dresses your pussy in a delicate manner, fragile strands illuminating your folds. Yet what teases at that ache deep within his stomach was your slit, soapy flutterings gasping to be filled. The threads string across the silky sheets are diamondlike, glimmering even in the dimmest of light.

“Look at how much of a mess you made fr’ me, Baby—fuck!— clit’s so damn cute under my fingers. Bet you wanna cum real bad…but not yet. Not until I play with you, alright?”

All you can do is whimper out your transgressions to Gojo, the cry of urgency muted by your cupping hand. He’s so gentle with his touch, the calloused pads of his fingers drifting along the glistening folds to reach your clit. He’s so gentle that it’s teasing, laying a fluttering trail to swirl about the pearl. Why, he’s so gentle that it's taunting, your hips reeling from his touch. Yet, all you earn is a huff from Gojo through the phone, his sloppy grip bracing your hip.

“Don’t do that, just gonna make you cum harder now, y’know.”

You don’t know it just yet, that side of Gojo that can alone uphold his honor. The side that keeps his word, ensuring that he’ll follow through on his part. The same principle applies to you all the same. It’s why he can bring his tongue to your frail slit, dragging that slippery ingraining stride through your folds—just to strike the raw bulb of your clit. The whimpers, gasps, and moans all fill Gojo’s ear, spitefully pawing at his ego. It fuels him to pursue further endeavors to test you.

“So pretty, Baby. Gonna let me kiss that pretty clit too, aren’t you?” his voice tapering across your roused skin. “Now relax, let me suck your clit, ‘kay?”

His words pull at your body’s temperament, releasing a wave of frigid heat to shroud your pussy. The plush mounds of his lips lay soft kisses against your clit, teasingly sealing the hood between each peck. At first, it isn’t noticeable, just the puffy seal of his lips enveloping the perked bud.

The gradual pull of your clit that alerts you, the streamlined squelching suckles pinned on the raw nerves. He’s even managed to make a mess of you, returning spools of spit dripping from his pursed hold over your clit.

The slobbering unclasp of his lips chime through the call, the lewd symphony strumming through your lips. His fingers cup at your cunt, parted digits placing gentle pulsing squeezes along your clit. Gojo pulls back for a moment, hungered eyes taking in the beautiful fixture he’d made out of your pussy.

“Mhm, that’s it, good girl, relax fr’ me. I think I’m falling in love with your pussy—tastes so good.”

“Oh m-my God!! Fuck Gojo, y-you can’t say it like that!”!

“Aww, but it’s the truth. Your pussy s’ good and fuck… twitching against my tongue like that. You’re so needy, Angel…gonna make you cum real soon.”

Just as he promised, the final clasp of his swollen lips brings about your downfall, the mind-shattering orgasm milking at your worth. A chain reaction breaks across your body, claiming your lungs in a breathless gasp. It’s heavy, the insufferable burden pulling the hull of your chest to the surface. Your legs know no bounds either, the innermost plush threatening to smother Gojo.

He repels himself from you before harm could arise, dragging the flat of his tongue along his plump lips. Pride boils at the forefront of Gojo’s mind as he returns to his seat, wearing a nonchalant smile in your presence. He knows what’s passing through that fuzzy mind of yours, the hues of lust and curiosity melding into one. The look of widened eyes, high eyebrows, and an agape mouth tell Gojo all he needs to know as he sets his phone down onto the white tablecloth: you’re curious.

The questions of what he can do to you fill up your mind, latent desires grooming at the surface of your skin. Gojo’s awakened something inside you, something that can’t quite be transcribed into words. It’s heat, a warmth so fierce that it grows with impatience.

The longer you return his gaze, the heavier the flames weigh on your mind. It entraps your entire body in a trap of heat, the inescapable urge swirling deep within your shuddering tummy. Suddenly, a single demand falls from your lips without regret in sight.

“Gojo, I really…um…I really wanna go now.”

“Aww, but we haven’t even eaten yet. I guess we can—

“Take it to go? We can do all that at the reception table. So can we…go…now?”

Gojo falls back in his seat as he stares at you, hiding a growing grin behind with the single thought looming above.

He’s got you. Exactly where he wants you, a hot and rowdy mess falling before his very eyes.

In response to his goal being met, Gojo stands up straight from his spot on the chair. His hand falls from its hold as a makeshift shield, presenting both his beckoning call and grin to you.

“C’mon, let’s get you home. I’d hate to keep you waiting.”

Leading you back home was nothing short of thrilling to Gojo. He studies you with a watchful eye, how you dropped your walls for the likes of him. It’s not vulnerability in the slightest but a taste of a life he’s always sought for. And here you come, providing him an earnest peek at that softer, susceptible side of you.

Your touch welcomes him, warms his heart to a point as he bears your dainty hands clinging to his sleeve. He’s exposed to this soft side of you by the soft nudge of your kisses, his cheek covered in trailing pecks as he struggles to pay for the night’s incomplete outing.

Gojo can’t help but fall prey to you, his heart set aflutter with skipping pangs. He finds himself returning your endearing favors, catching your lips in a kiss every so often. His touch vacates anything formal, fitted perfectly along your lower back to squeeze at the swell of your ass.

All the formalities Gojo should have maintained fell from his arsenal with every passing minute it takes to reach your home, the quaint house welcoming both your heavy hearts. He’s clinging to you, a hand pulsing at the plush of your waist and the other occupied with the bag of forgotten dinner.

“Do you…” Gojo begins, his smirked lips curling at the shell of your ear. “Need help with the keys?

His digits drift along the flushed skin of your forearm, lacing around your palm to aid in the envied endeavor.

“Just one last turn and…that’s the click. Now…push open that door if you don’t want the neighbors to see.”

Your body’s compelled to fall to Gojo’s words, entering through to the door with crazed haste. As the door falls shut, there’s a break in the tension, a moment for your mind to return to some state of coherency. Your first instinct is to walk, to separate for just a step. But it’s his swiftness you overlook, how quick he comes over to tower over you.

The hull of Gojo’s chest harbors a heavy tune, scattered breaths melding through you. His arm travels across your hips, laxed fingers creating lazy pleats along the hem of your dress.

“No, no, no…I finally have you to myself, Pretty girl. Where do you think you’re goin’ ?”

Your eyes cower with obligation dotting the blurred hues of your eyes. You can’t refuse Gojo, not with the pulling attraction guiding your heart thus far. Especially when he towers above you like this, the heat of his encasing you whole. There’s almost a compelling force, something bringing you onto your toes to close the distance. Your lips just barely brush past his own, the puffy heat teasing you with an invite.

“I’m…—!”

Gojo’s lips meet your own, the intoxicating smother of heat exhausting remnants of your energy. It’s intoxicating, how fixed you’ve become to his touch. There isn’t a moment to falter. Your lips cling to his own, such supple curves desperate to match the careful weaves he guides you through.

Languid trudges usher you and Gojo to the living room, smothered bodies collapsing onto the black leather cushions. He pulls you to warm his lap, hands steady along your hips. He’s so insistent to close any distance that keeps you both apart. It’s why his hands are sent clutch at your dress, tugging at the silk to pull right over your head.

Clothes continue to sprinkle across the room, piles upon piles falling to the abyss surrounding the lucid scene. His lips return to adorn your body, mindless pecks falling into the crook of your neck. His kisses bring about a rouse beneath your skin, each press of his lips earning a rush of blood to greet him. The trails of his affections fall prey to the valley of your chest.

Truth be told, he’s been dying for this, to touch you in ways only he could. His digits cup at the delicate swells of your tits, entrapping the hardened peaks in between.

“You’re so beautiful, Baby. So fucking beautiful.”

His eyes refuse to falter from yours, clinging to the sight of ecstasy as his lips seals your nipple away with the expanse of his mouth. A moan rips from Gojo’s chest, deeming him to have a senseless sense of self. Control isn’t something attainable in his current state, the man drunk off you.

Everything about you is heavenly, your warmth, your company, the pretty whimpers you make as Gojo’s tongue whisks around the puffy peaks lazily. He’s squeezing your tits softly, serving as his reminder of just how explicit everything’s become.

It’s not until you find yourself relaxing in his hold that you realize just how much you do to Gojo, bare lips of your cunt splitting around something hard.

“You’re so hard, ‘Toru. Does it hurt?”

“Mhm,” he hums, breaking away from the slobbering mess he’s made of your tits. “I really wanna feel those lips ‘round me, can you do that for me? Please?”

You offer him an enthusiastic nod, sinking onto your knees before his trembling thighs. The plush espresso carpet cradles the curve of your knees as you adjust, placing your lithe fingers along his abre thigh. But it’s the sight before you that stirs the brew of butterflies deep within your belly, coaxing a piercing shock to widen your hazy eyes.

Gojo’s big. Not just in his towering stature but right between his legs all the same. Your eyes are welcomed by the pretty plush of his cock, the tanned fat sitting pretty against his thigh with miserable want. The girthy shaft blooms with inflamed hues of green and blue. The thickest of veins are free from such imbues, too roused to don any single tint. Your eyes trail to the head of his cock, greeted by the bullying fury of reds. The tip weeps an uncontrolled sob of greed, the blushed adorning a smear ring of his precum.

Your lips falter at the scene, a pool of spit budding just beyond sight. Gojo’s hand cups the back of your neck, rattling a gentle pace of encouragement to soothe your nerves. It’s kind encouragement, his efforts allowing for your lips to part for his girth. A gentle kiss lays upon his slit, staining the pout in his essence. The throbbing pulse of his cock is hot against your lips, beckoning you to place yet another peck.

Your mouths with every bit to be covered, gradually slipping the fat head to sit snug between your suckling lips. It’s soft, pulling at the mere surface of the swelled tip. Your tongue even peeks for a moment, wavering along the underside all too teasingly in faint swipes. Gojo winces at the sensation, tingling with a striking thrill. His fingers find work at the nape of your neck once more, playing an uncoordinated tune upon your skin.

“You…You know what to do, take it all in your mouth fr’ me, Baby.”

Mindlessly, you lose to his imminent demand, your eyes suffering under the influencing weight. Your head strums along Gojo’s length without care, the throbbing head pecking at the back of your throat. The sensation’s nothing short of brutal, brash strikes threatening to pursue deeper lengths. Your ears help ease what coherency remains, hinged on the pretty crumbling moans ripping from his chest.

Gojo’s hot-blooded spree of lust carried you through the consistent hollows of your lungs, begging for just a lick of air. He’s desperate for it, to use your poor mouth like his favorite toy— so warm, wet and even tighter than his fist could ever begin to achieve.

But little does Gojo know, it’s more of a strain on you than him.

It’s a struggle, a harsh journey to endure to please Gojo. He’s far from the concept of silence, but there’s more dying to fly off his chest. He’s feeling it, courtesy of his jutting hips reckoning to reach the plump cling of your lips. The pitiful whimpers tell you all that’s known about his crumbling state. You want to deliver that taste of irresistible heaven to him.

Your hands migrate from the loose casing formed around his cock to his thighs, the pads of your digits settling into place. The thoughts swirl at the forefront of your mind. It had to be thoughtless, free of any worry, care, or restraint. If you faltered for even a moment, the teasing would be ripped right from the hands of Gojo.

You pull your lips to rest at the fat head of his cock, head tilting to greet his drowsy eyes. He’s high off his anticipation. Sweat works across his body, bringing the white locks of his hair to stick to his forehead. But more attaches onto Gojo’s fleeting persona, the glints of his own vulnerability coming to light. It’s present in how he looks at you, lust melded with the forbidden glints of genuine peeking through the haze. A chilling sight at first glance, a forced endeavor to endure at his whim.

His hands cup at the chub of your cheeks as an unknown comfort, his thumbs swiping at the polished highs with a look of intrigue. His tongue curls with a lax pull, putting the ramble of words to flood the air.

“W-why are you so…fucking pretty?... Hm? Can’t even look at me straight b-but you look s’ perfect just like this.”

A muffled moan vibrates about the inflamed crown from your throat, barely processing the praise to rattle off Gojo’s tongue. Your mind’s numb to it, the brisk descent of your lips down Gojo’s cock. Bubbly foams of spit dribbles from the corners of your mouth, only to be brushed away by the lewd gurgle brewing in your throat.

It’s sloppy and messy, taking all of him in one swift notion. And you know it’s working, your eyes peering up at Gojo Through the thick gather of your lashes. He’s singing a song so passionate it simply can’t be hidden, head nicked between his shoulder blades with the ball of his adam’s apple sent awry.

Gojo doesn’t mean to be mean, ripping his cock from your jaw destructively. He’s sure you aren’t aware of all you’ve done to him in a matter of seconds, your tongue nipping at the heavy bloat of his balls. A few moments longer and he’s sure you would’ve milked him of all he’s had. He hopes you’ll appreciate it as an apology, his strong arms wrapping around your waist.

He pulls you onto his lap, digits latching onto your chin once more. He doesn’t take a second to acknowledge your ruined state, crashing his lips against your own. It’s heavy, the press so rich it’s almost dizzying. His tongue curls along with yours, draping the flat laggardly. That’s all he does before breaking from your lips, falling back onto the couch’s plush backing.

“S-Shit…did such a good job…I want you—really fucking want you— to use me, ride me, fuck that pretty lil’ pussy on me!”

“O-Okay…just let me do it.”

A small hand disappears between the clash of bodies, in your palm holds the head of Gojo’s cock. He’s wet, slick with the fruit of your labor. It’s just enough to press the slit at your own, your hips lifting to a degree. Timing is all you need, the time to raise your hips just enough to prepare, fueling the frantic sink onto his cock.

Yet, you couldn’t have really prepared for Gojo, not with how much harder he’s become with you in his grasp. His cock’s brimmed with spry nerves, prickling with a fiery heat. It’s that same heat that keeps your walls from fluttering, sending the rich burn to nip at your poor entrance.

“OhmyGod, you’re so—”

“B-Big? I know, it’s all for you, baby…”

Your hips are caught in a bind, stubborn to move from their cocooning state. It takes for gentle rocks of Gojo’s hips to relax you, your hips rising voluntarily. He’s easing those walls of yours to a point, pushing past your sweet spot dumbly. You almost give him the full right to control in those moments, your body growing limp in his hold.

Right until you start to question it, the privilege to ruin your date by your means. He’s right there for the taking. It’s because of those very ponderings that you can sit high, swiveling about the head of Gojo’s cock before delivering a shattering pry at his building high. You can handle yourself this time, smothering your clit in the hairs surrounding his base. Your strides hold fast along his length, your pussy enveloping the entirety of his cock. Whiffs of insecurity whisk through your mind, unsure if Gojo would succumb to the lust as quickly as you did—only for you to discover the sweetest sight known to man.

Gojo’s brought himself to a whimpering shell of himself, mind numb off the slobbery squeeze of your walls. It’s so good to his poor, ruined mind, drunk off the bliss of your pussy. Spit spills from his mouth and glosses his lips, eyes glassy by the burning onslaught of tears—he’s a wreck underneath you. He’s finally got you, putting the effort to be used as some boy toy. He can’t take it, Gojo’s mind being beyond comprehension.

You take him so well, granting his sullied tip to nudge at your precious cervix. He deems himself blessed in the moment too, studying the pleasure trap itself beneath your features. Your lips fall from their pursed build, eyes rolled back into your skull, and hips set at a senseless pace. Why it’s so good, Gojo can’t believe it, freeing himself from the binds of his carnal lust.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum like that, Angel—and I don’t want that yet.”

Gojo’s brute strength comes to play as he takes hold of the reins, using her sheer force to pin you beneath his body. He settles onto his haunches, pulling you that much closer to close the distance. He doesn’t, guiding your legs to fold against your chest. He’s focused on your behalf, eyes queued on his bucking hips.

“B-But I’m gonna fuck you now, kay? Wanna make you feel good too, cover my cock with your pretty cum.”

The head of his cock pushes into you, splitting the lips of your cunt in an open kiss. He’s fitting inside you with such vivid ease, his cock almost sitting homely in your heat. The thick head kisses your leaving his shaft to curve at your sweet spot explicitly. He stretches you just right, fills you to the hilt, and the pulsing throbs that twitch inside you are nothing short of lewd.

With a few dips of his cock, Gojo could’ve made you cum just like that…but you’ve come to know that he won’t.

Gojo’s hips snap with no prevail, sending his cock to plunge so deep inside you. He’s hitting your cervix on every drive of his hips, smothering the perked nerves in a mess of fluttering pecks. He prefers it this way, pitting himself to the brim of your pussy that you have no choice but to cry out, his name falling from your lips.

He’s unforgiving when he’s like this, bringing forth the clash of skin echoing around the room. Gojo’s feverish in such nature, desperate to savory your pussy and desperate to cum. It’s more or less a reward for him, witnessing you handle all he’s giving. He can bury himself as much as you would allow, your walls sending his cock to. Each reel of his hips pulls the glossy sheens of your essence to paint his shaft

There’s much to take in but not a coherent thought in sight to do such bidding. From his chest smothered against your own, breath fanning—it’s simply too much for you to endure. The friction doesn’t offer you much either, the melds of heat running your body hot and throwing your mind into a flushed haze.

Gojo’s the one to blame, the thick of his fat cock rummaging tempered drags along your walls. It’s the hot and gummy fat bullying your walls that trap you in a trance, his cock rendering you a dumb mess of drool and spilled tears.

“G-Gojo…wait! It’s so–no, it’s too much! Jus’ slow down—”

Gojo’s hand peels from your thigh, his palm curved to the plush of your tummy. The tips of his fingers sit deep upon you, his soothing touch massaging your skin.

“It’s going too deep? Oh pretty girl, I can go, so, so much deeper than this. So deep that all you’ll know is me, baby.”

But it’s unbeknownst to Gojo how much he’s ruined you. He’s caught up in the sight of you so distraught and needy that he doesn’t know how close you are to your high. It’s hinged on so close that all it does take for you to reach that high is the pretty head of his cock to kiss at your cervix, the kiss of reassurance allowing for you to crumble.

Your spine arches from the dented cushions, hands fighting for solid grounding. Patches of stars coat your vision, courtesy of. Violent waves of exhaustion all strike your body at once, pulling what energy was left behind. You’re caught in a bind, the firm hold looming over your limp physique until it breaks at the sound of Gojo’s voice.

“That’s it, let everyone know that you’re all mine, Angel. You’re all mine, and I swear to fuck I’m not letting you go,” the oath rolling off his tongue. Gojo can’t help himself, refusing to quit amidst your high. His hips tilt to better his reach against your sweet spot, riding through the course of your orgasm.

A sharp seethe of air cuts through Gojo’s lips, pity boiling at the forefront of his mind. He knows it’s too much for you, watching your body attempt to flee. His eyes settle on your tits, bouncing with each flinch consuming you. He wants to say it, ask for your fleeting patience as his own orgasm hints at its arrival. But bless his foolish heart, he’s so drunk off your drooling pussy that words come out harsher than he means.

“Ah, don’t run from me, just take it…take every inch of me.”

A longing whimper of defeat wails off your chest. He’s fucking you to undiscovered lengths in your body, so far gone that babbles serve as your conversings. That same crowding influence seeps into your limp tongue. There’s no control in what you can say or do, your hands resting along the ridges of his flexed abs. Even your legs lose the urge to resist, lacing around Gojo’s waist to push him deeper than he’s even been.

“Please, c-cum inside me, Gojo. Please cum inside my pretty pussy, ‘Toru, please!”

“Oh Y/N, that’s so dirty of y-you…wait—fuck!—”

The threads of reality snap in Gojo’s mind at the sound of your pleading voice, a violent reckoning crashing over him. The spill of tension that sits in the fat bloat of his balls ruins you, thick ropes of a creamy white flushing your walls white.

Gojo’s lost all strength to carry on, his impoverished body collapsing onto yours. A dizzy head and heaving chest is a combination he’s used to but tonight holds a different story. Words can’t be found to describe the state he’s entered. He’s astute, taking everything in as his hands cling to your waist. His thumbs draw mindless circles into your skin, Gojo’s silent form of apology.

It’s a strange instinct for him, the sudden urge to shower you in his care. His mind’s racing with thoughts, how to show his intentions for you. It’s not in his character but god did he was To soothe you with kisses, rub all the sores and knicks he’d inflict, just to lay next to you in idle conversation was all he wanted at the moment. The effort’s worth it in his eyes.

So he decides to try his hand at it, pulling his chest from yours. His hands lay flat beside your head, closing the distance between you both with a smirk.

“Lemme clean you up.”

With a quick peck of his lips, Gojo turns his attention between his legs. His eyes fall shut as he pulls out from your cunt with a hitching breath. But it’s the sight that has him whimpering, his cock glistening with slick and spattered patterns of white.

Slotting himself between your legs, Gojo presses his cheek along your inner thigh, hands keeping your limbs apart.

His eyes return to the timeless sight of your slit, dribbling with his cum. He’s apprehensive about it for the moment, admiring the rare scene with doting hues. Yet as his tongue finally curls up against your folds, all thought suspends from him.

He can’t help but to be lazy, the flat of his tongue lapping at the puffy sheets of flesh. Each drop of your essence is caught by Gojo’s ministrations, relishing in your taste.

He’s guided to the hood of your clit, the bud perked twitching in regards. The tip of his slicked muscles tightens upon the sticky contact , swirling around the pearl gently. Gojo’s digits gravitate to your pussy, catching the hood of your clit in a flurry of strokes. He couldn’t care less about his cum pooling from your entrance, too enthralled with the unsteady gasps trapping your lungs.

“G-Gojo, wait! It’s t-too much!”

“Told you I love this cute clit of yours. Just give me one more, please?”

Feverish nods spill from you, the heft of the impending orgasm reaching like no other. It’s passing you in waves, the tingling numbness claiming the soles of your feet. Your legs fold to meet your chest rapidly, the knot in your lower back unraveling at godforsaken heights.

Gojo’s humming a giddy tune as he presses his lips to your quivering clit. He watches as your body thrashes about the sunken cushions, a prideful glint illuminating his eyes.

“Mhm, that’s my girl. ‘M so proud of you!”

Gojo pulls from your side for the moment, leaving the couch to sort through the vast piles of discarded clothes. He returns with his briefs and wrinkled button-down in tow. The dress shirt drapes across your body as he pulls you to your feet, his arms laced around your waist.

“C’mon, let’s go get comfortable,” he coos, pressing his lips to the crook of your neck. The two of you stroll up the stairs, passing through the first right door to enter the moonlit bedroom. The duvet’s tint of blue beckons you and Gojo to grow closer. He leads you to the bed, collapsing beside you with sleep itching on the brain.

As he settles at your side, Gojo’s eyes scan about your room. He’s greeted by the blanched white walls, a few paintings that hang—the bare coverings over your windows. A streak of blush surfaces at the highs of his cheeks, turning to meet your languid sights.

“Y’know, you have to buy some blinds, Princess. It’s especially dangerous at night, people can be so nosy.”

“Is that right?” you giggle, staring at Gojo through your lashes. You can’t help but admire his beauty, how the faint light of the moon kisses his fair skin and white hair. Even the way he looks at you holds radiance, his eyes of blue holding the purest glow you’ve ever seen.

Gojo doesn’t bother to keep his distance, bringing his body to cocoon your own. His hand catches yours in a hold, paired with the gentle pecks riddled across your cheeks.

“Promise to take you out on a real date tomorrow. We can do everything, walk around town, go to a different restaurant–”

“What’re you doing, Gojo?” the question calling about reflective silence.

He lets your inquiry bake on his mind for a while, keeping his fingers intertwined with your own. Gojo knows exactly what you mean. Promising another date, even just being in the same bed as you for this long was foreign. But with you—for you— he’s inclined to do anything that’ll keep you around.

He pays you one final glance before replying, a small grin teasing the corners of his lips.

“Trying something new.”

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