#GOJO GOT THEM APPLE BOTTOM JEANS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

poursomesunaonme · 8 months

Text

living room mural

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: what could be more innocent than a home reno with your partner gojo satoru?

word count: 12k of unadulterated filth

author’s note: rewrote my debut piece on this blog :') i will never recover lmao

content/warnings: minors dni, established relationship w/ satoru; about a gazillion pet names (love, sweets, baby/babe, princess, darling, sweetheart, pretty girl), oral (fem receiving), fingering, dacryphilia, choking, teasing, a microscopic speck of angst, praising (good girl), degradation (cumslut), lots of spit, body painting (with actual paint), does that count as exhibitionism if it’s plastered on the walls, reader is blindfolded, biting, breeding kink, daddy kink, multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, edging, squirting, v rough, a sprinkle of fluff, gojo antagonizing poor nanami

(we’re gonna pretend that this paint is non-toxic and won’t permanently damage skin pls ignore how down despicable i am for this concept🥺😭)

The pungent scent of fresh paint and sawdust flooded your nostrils as you rolled the first coat of paint over the primed walls. The first stroke of beautiful white paint against the shit brown left you nearly breathless. You wanted to sit down and marvel at this step of progress, but the satisfaction of even a single stroke had you craving the finished product.

Before you got back to work, you closed your eyes, listening to the sound of Satoru working outside. He was sanding down the wood to build a bookshelf in the living room. The drone of the sander starting and stopping would provide a good rhythm for your work. A smile rose to your face as you heard him talking to himself in the same animated manner that he would use in speaking to other people. You sighed, looking back to the wall you had to tackle.

In a frenzy, you went to work, the roller gliding over the wall with ease. The streaks of paint turned into even blotches of beautiful white, which after countless minutes of aching-inducing labor, was a finished work of a completely white wall. You stood back, setting down the roller. Your fingers nimbly massaged your shoulder as you swung it around a bit to get out the cramps.

You had two more walls of white to do before you started on the last wall that you and Satoru had agreed to paint an olive green. The accent wall also happened to have the fireplace on it, which you were going to leave for last with how tedious the work would be. You went to the kitchen to grab a drink, deciding to make one for Satoru as well. Admiring the wall once again, you passed through the living room and looked out the screen door, seeing him hard at work. The sweat glistened brightly on his forehead, accentuating his face that was contorted in focus on his task.

You kicked open the door, laughing at his face brightening when he saw you with his refreshment. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the bottom hem of his tank top, revealing his toned abs. You sighed, content, as he left his work to sit on the steps with you, groaning as his butt hit the cement. He lifted the goggles that he was wearing, setting them on his forehead. You handed him his drink wordlessly, watching his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped down the water.

Together, you looked out into the yard, which was ablaze with the light of the afternoon sun. It was the point in the day where the sun seemed to shine the brightest before the hue changed with the golden hour. The stacks of supplies littering the grass were the only indications that the two of you were in the middle of a home renovation. Satoru’s work station was meticulously set up in his own specific way to make his tasks easier. You found the organized chaos endearing.

You set your cup down next to you after taking a sip, wiping the condensation of the glass off on your jeans. Flecks of paint littered them right down to the cuffs. Surprised, you pulled out the hem of your cami, seeing that you had also somehow gotten paint splattered on the front of it as well. You surmised that you had made the right decision to wear clothes you didn’t care too much about. Sighing, you picked up your glass once again, gulping down water to satiate your thirst.

“I have two more white walls to do, then it’s onto the fireplace wall,” you told him. You leaned into him and found that the dewiness of the sweat on your arms made them nearly stick together. He didn’t respond. His lips were locked onto the glass as he downed the water like it would be his last drop. You nudged him with your elbow. You wanted to know how his work was coming along. He finished his water with a dramatic “ahh,” setting down the empty cup next to him.

“I have a lot more wood to sand down,” he commented, gesturing to the stack he had next to his workbench. “I did not think this through. Do you still want a bookshelf? I think that maybe we could do without it.”

You chuckled and rested your head on his shoulder briefly. “Yes, ‘Toru, I want one. But we can always just buy one from Ikea.” You blinked innocently, yet a smirk toyed with the corners of your lips. “But I at least thought that the best would be able to finish a simple bookshelf. Guess I was wrong.”

You hoped that the mocking statement would injure his pride enough to spur him to finish the task.

The corners of his mouth turned into a frown, lost in thought for a moment. Then, he jolted upwards with a newfound fervor. You chuckled to yourself at how easily he played right along into your hands. “I’ll finish it!”

Planting a quick kiss on your lips, he sprinted back to his work, grunting as he picked up another board and set it on the table. The sander turned on, Satoru guiding its movements with ease, muscles rippling in the afternoon sun. You watched for a bit, sipping your water as you watched the sweat begin to seep through through his tank with his added effort. The sawdust that flew from the wood stuck to his skin.

After a few more minutes, your drink was finished. You set your hands on your knees, grunting as you stood up. You had hoped that the work wouldn’t make you too sore. The burning spots targeted by your repetitive motions said otherwise. Satoru noticed you taking your leave. You waved to him, which in response, he winked, gritting his teeth as he held the sander in place. You plucked the empty cups from the step and entered the house once again. You set them in the kitchen, then got back to work on the next wall.

The painting was easier as you got into a steady rhythm, even switching hands on occasion when your arm started to wear out. The work was repetitive and calming; letting out a gruff laugh, you considered switching jobs to become a painter. It was exponentially less stressful than teaching. With a sigh, you stood back, realizing that in your reverie, you had finished the last two walls, both of which didn’t have anything that you had to paint around, making them easy to finish without incident.

You smiled to yourself, wondering how Satoru was doing with his work. He had been so excited when he came up with the idea (it was more your putting the idea into his head and him taking the credit for it) of building a bookshelf for you, a light tone that contributed to the peaceful atmosphere of the living room. You knew it would be the perfect piece that you two had been looking for to complete the layout.

You sat down next to the can of green paint, prying it open and then dumping a healthy amount into the pan. You picked up the other roller, watching as it soaked up the pretty olive hue. Staring intently at the wall you had to tackle, the only thing you had to worry about was the fireplace, which you were still picking out a color for. Pieces of your hair tumbled into your eyes. You brushed them away, quickly deciding that you were going to worry about painting the wall directly next to the fireplace at the end of your work.

Halfway thorugh the wall, you thought that being a professional painter would definitely be a viable side job, seeing as you were now working efficiently and had ascertained easy tricks to make the work seamless. After you had finished the unblocked parts of the wall, you started at the bottom of the fireplace with a new, smaller brush, carefully tracing next to the painter’s tape. Both sides were finished quickly enough, only leaving the top of the mantle to tackle.

The fresh paint smell had attached itself to your body, your nose not even used to it after the seeming hours you had spent applying it to the walls. Standing on your tiptoes, you attempted to reach and stroke the paint blindly across the back edge of the mantle. No matter where you stood, you couldn’t see over the edge, and you certainly didn’t want to use a roller and get more on there than you needed. Sighing with frustration, you set down the brush on the pan. You straightened up, hands on your hips, trying to figure out another way to tackle the situation.

“Only you can make painting look this good,” Satoru commented from behind you. You whirled around, seeing him leaning against the doorframe, covered in sawdust, arms crossed over his chest. His goggles were up against his hairline, pushing the hair up at a funny angle. You smiled and sauntered over to him. He whistled at your sultry approach and planted a kiss on your lips when you reached him.

“‘Toru,” you started sweetly, trailing a finger down his chest, “now that you’re here, would you be a doll for me and paint the spots above the mantle? I can’t reach.”

He stooped down, pressing a kiss into your damp forehead. “Of course, love.”

You clapped your hands, spinning back around and beginning a trot back to the fireplace. Satoru kept pace with you easily with long strides. You squealed as one of his large hands collided with your ass. You cast a glance at him, seeing the devilish grin at the satisfying sound.

He plucked the brush from the pan, dabbling a bit to get more on the bristles. With ease, he stood at the mantle, not even having to stand on his tiptoes to see what he was doing. You watched with arms crossed as he set long strokes across the base. His back muscles pulled taut and released with grace with his movements, the sparkling of his sweat glistening with the setting sun filtering in through the windows.

The sawdust sprinkled across his body began to fall off as his sweat dried, adding a certain kind of magic that only he could embody. It was almost like special effects. It looked like a hazy dream with the glimmer of sweat and the perfectly orange light. He applied a few more strokes, then let his hand fall to his side, examining his work. Once he deemed it presentable, he turned back to you with an endearing smile gracing his lips.

You quietly padded over to him, feeling like you were floating on air in the approach. In turn, he glided over to you, eyes wandering up and down your body from under his snowy eyelashes. You bit your lip with a cheeky smile. His eyes narrowed reflexively like a hunter’s. Without warning, he lunged forward, brush extended. You squealed and tried to recoil, but your reflexes weren’t fast enough for the huge streak of paint he spread down your shirt.

You looked down at it, then back up at him. “Satoru!”

He let out a laugh, tossing the brush to the side, not bothering to look as it clattered over the covered floors. “Sorry, couldn’t say ‘no’ to those thoughts.”

You charged at him with your arms extended to swat playfully at him. He grabbed your biceps with an iron grip and pulled you close to subdue you. It worked, but not before you squirmed in his embrace, making sure his shirt was covered in paint as well.

After you had stopped moving, his grip loosened and he pulled back, examining your shirt with a mock concern. He tugged at the hem, seeing that what was once a stripe of paint had spread to cover the whole front of your shirt during the tussle.

“Hun, I think your shirt is ruined,” he commented, corners of his mouth turning up at the sight of your indignation. He stooped down so close that his lips were brushing your ear. “Think you should get rid of it now.”

You decided to take his comment literally (how he intended). You shoved him playfully, pulling it off over your head, revealing your bare chest. His jaw dropped as he tried to croak out a response to your actions, but you beat him to the punch.

“Guess I had no choice but to take it off,” you murmured. Your eyes flickered down to his shirt and back up to how his jaw tightened. He took the cue, slightly fumbling with the hem, but he didn’t any move to remove it. You took a step toward him, your heart beginning to race. The afternoon air wasn’t nearly cold enough to make your nipples hard, but the sight of Satoru sure was. The golden light shining through the windows made him look like an angel with the way it illuminated the dust around him and the sweat still shining on his skin.

“I think that would apply to you too, ‘Toru.” You closed the gap with another step as you reached for the bottom of his shirt. He continued a forward movement, pressing his whole front against you. The friction of your nipples rubbing against his shirt ignited a heat between your legs.

“‘Mkay.” He lifted a hand to gently stroke your cheek. His thumb rubbed roughly against the skin before he pulled it back to show you the paint on his finger. You swatted his hand away, forcing his attention onto you. “Take it off then.”

A smile rose to your lips as you obliged happily, nimbly tugging his shirt up to reveal his chiseled abdomen. The sight never failed to take your breath away. You let your fingers skim over his muscles as you pulled his shirt up over his body. His arms lifted gracefully to make your job easier, and after throwing it to the side, he was bare chested.

Before you could lift your eyes to meet his, his lips met yours gently. A tiny moan escaped you at the silky softness of his. Your hands found his arms and you gave them a satisfying squeeze. The muscles rippled in response to your touch. Your fingers skimmed up and down over his skin, eliciting heavy breaths from Satoru.

After just a few moments, your fingers felt raw. With a start, you realized that the bumps on Satoru’s skin were clumps of sawdust clumped together by sweat. It made things difficult, as it seemed to be everywhere and was rough on your fingertips. You started to dust him off, ignoring how the grainy flecks stuck between your fingers.

He pushed you backwards, hands beginning to wander as his tongue swiped over your bottom lip. You opened your mouth in response, letting out another moan – this one louder than the first – as his hands wound around to your backside, giving your ass a solid squeeze, a cheek in each hand.

You opened your eyes to see his reaction at the sound you had made - the looks of which you were not in the least disappointed by. Satoru’s eyes widened with surprise, then narrowed as his pupils blew out. Any sense of reservation with you was gone as soon as the vibrations left your throat. Half pushing, half carrying you, your bodies collided with the fireplace wall.

The wet paint stuck to your skin, the scent once again invading your nostrils after the sappy sweetness of Satoru’s had taken over your senses for those brief moments. You pulled away from the kiss, chest heaving. Satoru gave you a questioning glance before diving down to plant open mouthed kisses on your neck. Your hands met his hair, lightly pushing him away, but he didn’t pay much attention to your efforts.

“‘Toru, t-the paint’s still wet,” you squeaked as he sucked on the skin. He mumbled something against your neck before biting it lightly, tugging it between his teeth. The heat between your legs blazed even more intensely at Satoru’s tunnel vision. His passion was just too much to ignore. A feral groan left your lips as that one action sealed the wet walls’ fate for the night.

“Fuck it,” you sighed. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. Lips collided again as he took full advantage of your abandon, wrapping you up in his arms completely. He squeezed you tightly. Your chest flattened against his. His tongue was warm in your mouth. With a low moan, his fingers looped through the belt loops of your jeans, tugging you directly to where the tent in his pants was. A gasp passed between your mouths at the friction.

The moment seemed to spark something within him as he pulled back from your mouth. You pouted, trying to stand on your tiptoes to reach his again. Your fingers danced across his shoulders. He towered over you, eyes darkened with lust.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded, pulling on your loops to emphasize his words. Your response was immediate, obeying him fully, sticking out your tongue slightly. His hands untangled from your belt loops, ghosting over the skin of your chest up to your throat. One hand tightened around it while the other stroked your cheek lovingly. You blinked rapidly, waiting for him to do anything else.

It wasn’t much longer, as he had paused for a minute to gather spit in his mouth. Pursing his lips, he parted them slightly, letting a dribble of spit through them. Not faltering in your pose, you let it hit your tongue, watching intently as the rest of the warm liquid left his lips. Once he had finished, he gave your throat a light squeeze. A signal to swallow. You obliged, taking it in full and giving him a sultry smile afterwards.

“God, you’re so hot,” he growled, your lips meeting once again. His hands left their position and wrapped around your waist once again, pulling you closer to him. As he pried you off the wall, your nipples perked at the cold hitting your back. It was accompanied by the strange tightness of the paint beginning to dry on it.

It wasn’t long before he slammed you against the far wall. At least, you thought it was. You were so disoriented already from Satoru’s intense onslaught of passionate kisses, but you didn’t care. One wall was already ruined, what was the hurt in fucking up the others?

The kissing was fierce, passionate. You both fought for dominance, though it was always Satoru who won out in the end, even when you decided to take control and pin him against the wall instead (which, in any case, you knew he enjoyed). Over and over you turned, covering every inch of the wall with your bodies.

It seemed that Satoru shared the same mentality, as the process repeated itself again and again until you pulled back to catch your breath. You glanced around, and a laugh escaped your lips. Satoru sighed, following your eyeline until a guffaw left his lungs as well. The surveillance led us to the discovery that the initial makeout had left your entire backside (ass included) covered in green paint; this in turn, with Satoru’s slamming you against the far wall, had led to your ass displayed on every inch of it.

“Well, that was something I didn’t expect to ever see on the wall of a house,” you commented, bumping into your lover. He chuckled, planting a kiss on your temple. His arm wrapped around your waist, the warmth of his body sending a shiver through you.

“I personally love the view.” To emphasize his point, he grabbed your ass and squeezed it, leaving his hand covered in paint. “I think it’s missing something, though.”

“And what’s that?” You looked at him, seeing the usual devilish grin spread across his face. He didn’t even have to see your face to recognize the quizzical look that you would give him when he had one of his crazy ideas.

“Well, two things.” He held up two fingers to you like you didn’t know how to count. “First of all, I want your bare ass there, so take off your jeans. Second, mine isn’t there!”

You laughed, the sound echoing throughout the empty room. “What are we gonna do, slather paint all over your ass and have you stamp the walls?”

“Yeah? What else?” His nonchalant tone drew a giggle from you. Your eyes widened with glee, not expecting him to have been serious at all. He turned to you, face brightening at your enthusiasm.

“Oh, this is gonna be golden!” you smirked, getting the paint roller and the pans of paint. Together, you stripped down bare, throwing your pants in a pile where your shirts were. Because your prints were already there, Satoru was adamant about getting painted first. Indulging him, you knelt on the ground, prying open an extra can of paint that you had bought in the hopes of finding a use for it. The pretty lilac color poured out into your spare paint tray. Satoru giggled in delight as you soaked the roller and gestured for him to turn around.

“Okay, it’s gonna be cold,” you warned, not hesitating to start to roll the paint on the back of his thighs and over his ass. He squealed like a schoolgirl, wincing at the temperature on his sensitive skin. “Chill out! You’ve faced worse than this, you baby.”

He didn’t say anything, but stilled his body as you put more than was needed on his skin. After you covered him with a copious amount, you tapped on his calf. “I think you’re good to try.”

“Ooh, I can’t wait to see!” He ran over to the wall and leaned against it, making sure his legs were flat against it as well. He gave you a dramatic look, crossing his arms to emphasize his mock impatience. Lifting his arm to check his imaginary watch, he sighed.

A soft smile rose to your lips, watching his theatrics. The golden light filtering in through the window illuminated him beautifully. The sawdust was almost completely shaken from his skin, as was a result of your fierce kissing earlier; however, a few motes still unstuck themselves from him and drifted away, looking like little fireflies in the dazzling glow.

He sparkled like Christmas lights, standing there so nonchalantly, yet looking like a Renoir. The shadows cast by his handsome features cut so deep against his skin, the crests and valleys of his toned muscles like a landscape you felt like you had yet to explore. Eyes widening, you shook your head to bring yourself from your staring.

“I don’t think it would take that long for it to settle,” you told him with a knowing smile. “Hop off and let’s see it.”

His eyes widened at the odd sensation as he pulled away from the wall. You gasped, seeing the stamp of his ass. You knew it was going to be hilarious, but the imprint of his ass seeming to hover over the backs of his thighs in the middle of the wall sent you into a fit of laughter. His laughter soon followed when he saw the shapes.

Your stomach began to ache as you laid down on the ground, still in throes of giggles. Satoru came and sat down next to you, petting your head, watching you chuckle at the scene.

“Isn’t it just a work of art?” he commented. You rolled your eyes, sitting up and getting your own paint tray with the olive green still sitting inside of it. You stood up, turning and gesturing to the tools.

“My turn!” you sang, swiveling your hips. Without fail, Satoru’s hands cupped the bottom of your ass, lifting and shaking it. You craned your neck to see him watching it jiggle in wonder. With a sigh, you turned back around, waiting for him to roll paint onto it. Without warning, his teeth sunk into the fleshy skin.

“What the fuck!” you yelped, whirling around to flick him in the forehead. His teeth flashed into a grin as he narrowly avoided your fingers, picking up the roller instead. “God, you’re insufferable.”

“What? I just couldn’t help myself.” His sweet tone threatened to make your teeth rot. While it hurt at first, the pleasure of it was beginning to hit as the irritated skin began to heat up. You shifted uncomfortably, not exactly wanting to ask him to do it again, but wanting it all the same.

“Just paint my ass.”

“Now that’s a sentence I’d never thought I’d hear coming out of your mouth,” he snickered, not even warning you that he was going to start. You sucked in a breath at the cool feeling on your bare skin, not wanting to show your discomfort as much as he did. The coolness felt wonderful on the spot where he bit you. He finished in a few seconds, the foreign sensation ceasing as quickly as it began.

You ran over to where he stamped the wall and sat against it. The height difference made you giggle as you imagined the print of your ass barely level with his thighs. After a few seconds, you pulled back, grimacing at the sticky sensation. You turned around and slapped a hand over your mouth, seeing the plumpness of your ass on the wall.

“We should frame that and put it in the Louvre,” Satoru joked, coming up beside you and wrapping an arm around you. You turned to him, pulling closer, your chests pressed against each other. Your mouth was slightly ajar, not even wanting to say anything to him. You were both naked, and you wanted him.

When he looked down and saw your expression, he licked his lips hungrily before your lips collided. The kiss deepened without hesitation, with Satoru’s tongue slipping into your mouth. His arms enveloped you easily, pulling you closer, roaming all over your bare back. The gentle skim of his fingers sent shivers down your spine. He tilted his head down slightly, breaking the contact of your lips enough to leave your foreheads pressed together. Your eyes met as heavy pants passed between your lungs.

“Lay down, sweets,” he murmured, cupping your face in his hands. You nodded and obeyed without a word, the tarp crinkling underneath you. A low whistle escaped his lips as you spread your legs for him, the cool air hitting the heat gathered between your thighs. He crouched down, marveling at the view before moving in closer. As he crawled to settle between your legs, something other than the tarp crinkled.

Your eyes widened as you looked to the source of the sound, finding that Satoru had accidentally placed his hand into the lilac paint. You opened your mouth to protest as Satoru shrugged and proceeded to continue his approach, but he held his clean hand up to his lips.

“Let me paint you, baby,” he murmured. You swear he could’ve slid inside then and there because his statement nearly made you gush. His soft white hair tickled your inner thighs as he reached his journey’s end. He looped his arms around your thighs, his left hand smearing wet paint all over your leg.

The slippery sensation felt amazing as he squeezed and massaged them, planting kisses on the sensitive skin of your thighs that made your pussy flutter. He sighed, hot breath tickling the needy skin, before licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit. You moaned, arching your back at the contact. You reached down, tangling your fingers in his hair to hold on for dear life. He chuckled lowly, his painted hand untangling from your leg. He watched, beginning to suck on your clit, as his hand snaked up your body, leaving a trail of lilac paint.

Satoru’s huge hand kneaded your tit, leaving a handprint to mark his territory. You squirmed in his grasp, the chilly paint causing your nipples to pebble into peaks. He pinched one as he buried his face in your pussy, picking up the pace. Even in the haze his fervor cast upon you, the exaggerated movements of his hands smearing paint all over your torso grounded you in the moment.

You pulled him closer by the hair, moans spilling from your lips. Even with your eyes squeezed shut, you could imagine everything that he was doing with the heightened senses that your arousal gifted you with. His other arm unwound itself from your leg and trailed up your torso, arriving at your mouth.

“Open up, princess,” he cooed against your pussy, causing you to squirm against the vibration of his voice. You did as you were told and he didn’t hesitate to slip his pointer and middle finger inside. You hollowed out your cheeks, sucking obediently, swirling your tongue around his fingers to coat them with your saliva before he pulled them out.

“Good girl.” Your eyes widened as he spread his digits apart, watching the trails of spit that webbed his fingers with a lustful gaze. He briefly rubbed them on your clit, then swiftly plunged them into your cunt. You cried out as he curled them upwards, finding the spot he knew so well. He swirled them around a bit, finding a good rhythm and watching you wriggle before gracing your clit with his mouth once again.

The second he resumed his work, you could already feel yourself getting close. You couldn’t help that each exhale was an obnoxious moan; Satoru knew your body better than you did. The slurping sounds that came from between your legs could’ve made a nun blush as he worked his hardest to bring you to a climax.

The heat spread everywhere on your body as the complementarity of Satoru’s rhythmic fingering and incessant tonguing worked together to stimulate you. Your legs began to shake as your eyes rolled back into your head. Your fingers pulled harder on his hair, telling him to keep it up because you couldn’t form the words with your own mouth.

“You’re close, hm?” he purred, scissoring his fingers against your velvet walls. You squeezed your thighs together, trapping him.

“Mmhm,” you managed to squeak out. Without a word, he resumed his speed, your pussy throbbing against his mouth. Pulsing muscles constricted and loosened rapidly as they sucked his fingers deeper into your cunt. The intensifying loudness of your moans sung of the quick approach to your orgasm.

“Cum for me, darling,” he egged you on, watching in satisfaction as you unraveled before him. You cried out, legs seizing up as the orgasm hit you like a freight train. He continued his onslaught, mouth and hand working to keep the stimulation going, while his other hand was still massaging your breast.

The waves of pleasure began to ebb away, and the stars cleared from your vision. You sighed happily, massaging Satoru’s scalp as he slowed his pace. Your body jerked occasionally, still in the throes of the ebbing orgasm. He picked his head up, planting kisses up your abdomen, settling on the breast that he hadn’t covered in paint. His other hand remained in your cunt, still massaging your g-spot. His thumb roved your clit in lieu of his mouth. Your head spun as he tongued and sucked on your nipple, setting off fireworks all over your body.

“S’toru,” you whined, “kiss me… please?”

He released your nipple with a soft pop, teeth flashing in a luminous smile. “I love it when you beg for me,” he murmured, twisting his fingers deliciously. The buttery smoothness of his lips brushed against yours, fueling the flames in your belly. You melted into him, pliable as putty as he worked you into another climb up the mountain of pleasure.

“Ngh, fuck!” you choked out as your head rolled back, gripping his shoulders. Your moans were quickly muffled by his mouth on yours, enveloping the soft tissue and every sound that came from it. His lips were impossibly smooth, contradicting the roughness of his fingers that rolled within you. Satoru’s teeth bit and tugged on your bottom lip, before parting your lips with his tongue and gently sliding it inside your mouth. His face pulled away, watching your expression contort with neediness. The paint drying on his spare hand, he reached past your head, fumbling with his clothes.

You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing, but it quickly snapped shut when you saw his blindfold dangling from his hand. The grin on his face was telling of what he was going to say, and you were more than eager to agree. Before you knew it, Satoru was slipping the blindfold over your head, settling it gently over your eyes, surprisingly all while still keeping a steady rhythm massaging your g-spot.

“You doin’ okay, sweetheart?” Satoru’s voice showered down on you from his position above. You could hear the smile in his tone at the sight of you splayed out underneath him, completely at his mercy. The thought made you nearly gush.

“Uh-huh, ‘Toru,” you moaned sweetly, relishing in the warmth of his body on yours. The brush of his lips on your mouth nearly made you jump out of your skin, but you soon dissolved into the contact as his tongue slid inside of your mouth. He threatened to swallow you whole, your tongues intertwining like snakes, salia mixing sloppily.

“Can you take another, pretty girl?” Satoru’s lips left yours and whispered the question directly into your ear. The ghost of his breath brushed against sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine. A whimper escaped you, but you nodded, clinging to his shoulders. He didn’t hesitate to plunge an extra finger into your cunt, letting your walls assimilate to the stretch. He spread his fingers wide within you, eliciting a cry from your lips.

“So much,” you mumbled, the familiar feeling of the tears prickling in the bridge of your nose as you struggled to take his three fingers. Despite your whimpering, he continued, relentlessly curling his long fingers to tickle the spot that ruined you every time. As he continued gently pumping his digits into you, your walls assimilated to the girth.

“Helpin’ you get ready for the main show.” The smile was evident in his voice as he planted a kiss on your open mouth, ignoring your eyebrows knitting together, ignoring the trembling of your entire body, but especially ignoring your knees weakly struggling to come together, blocked by his hips lodged between them.

The alien chill of paint covered the skin of your throat as his hand wrapped around it, gently squeezing. Your head began to pound with each beat of your heart. After a few more moments of his fingers dexterously massaging the soft skin of your neck, his hand traveled upwards, grabbing the sides of your face and squishing them together.

“Open up for me, darling,” he purred. You didn’t need to see to feel brilliant blue eyes, darkened with lust, as they pierced through you. Your mouth went dry as you forced it open. Your tongue protruded, waiting for what you knew was to come. His finger brushed against your cheek as he pushed the blindfold up slightly, allowing you to watch the scene that unfolded. Without fail, Satoru stuck out his own tongue, watching lazily as the spit he gathered dropped from one mouth to another.

The fire in your belly exploded at the feral gleam in his eyes, at the renewed ferocity that he plunged his fingers into your cunt, at the tantalizing movement of his thumb on your clit. A gurgle escaped your lips at a particularly potent movement within you that zapped like electricity throughout your veins. Your nails dug into his skin as you fought to keep your head from spinning off.

“Uh-uh,” Satoru tsked, shaking your head back and forth easily to emphasize his words. You hadn’t even realized that your mouth snapped shut. “Don’t swallow yet.”

A tear slipped from your bleary eyes, rolling down your cheek. His lips were on your face in an instant, kissing the wetness away. Your lips trembled, along with your whole body, as Satoru’s digits wreaked havoc within your velvet walls. The fire in your belly spread throughout your limbs, rendering you a shaking mess as your orgasm came barrelling at you.

“S’toru?” you mewled, drool spilling from the corner of your mouth. He fixed his attention on you without words, eyes gleaming at you as they watched you struggle to string sounds together. “Can I swallow now?”

The question must’ve sounded so silly with the amount of spit impeding your speech, but Satoru only gently kissed your forehead, his voice rumbling against you. “Of course, princess.”

As the warm, slightly sweet liquid descended down your throat, one of your hands ceased gripping his shoulder like a lifeline and fumbled around the tarp. You could feel his eyes looking inquisitively at you, but you ignored it as your hand found what you wanted. The gooey viscosity of the olive paint coated your hand. As you removed your hand from the tray, the excess paint dripped off, splattering onto the tarp. The foreign feeling of skin through the barrier of paint met your hand as you placed it on the back of Satoru’s neck, pulling him closer to you.

Your lips met his ear, the pungent scent of the fresh paint flooding your nose once again at the proximity. “Can I cum, ‘Toru? ‘M close, babe.”

With a kiss to your neck, he removed his dexterous digits. You cried out, surprised by the empty feeling, missing the stimulation both inside and out of you. Looking down, you saw that Satoru had simultaneously begun to line himself with your entrance. Your eyes widened as you saw what you had been hoping for, biting your lip in excitement. His body twisted slightly as he reached for something behind him.

“You ready?”

He already knew the answer. A cheeky smile lit up his face, telling you everything you needed to know. His ego needed to be stroked. You needed to be filled. Mutual interests.

You shoved those thoughts out of your head, filling them with your desire for Satoru and Satoru alone. You had chosen each other, claimed the other for yourselves. Passion filled the air around you - had already begun to seep through the walls of the house as you made it your own.

You nibbled on your lower lip, blinking your eyes like a doe. He softened seeing your expression, leaning down lower so that the hair that cascaded down tickled your forehead.

“Yes, baby.”

His thick cock plunged into your weeping cunt all while he wrapped his freshly painted hand around your throat. A struggling moan left your lips as your body attempted to become accustomed to both feelings, but the overwhelming intensity of being stretched by his cock and being painted as his property sent your head spinning.

The blindfold slipped down over your eyes once again at Satoru’s slow but powerful thrusts, leaving you dazed. The tarp beneath you crinkled loudly at your movements, but you paid it no mind. His pace halted for a second, then resumed as his other hand joined in on the Pollock that was your body. His other hand remained gripping your throat as the freshly coated member roamed your body, coating it in the beautiful lilac paint.

You fumbled blindly for your paint tray, your wandering hands finally finding purchase once you gripped the plastic. You pulled it closer to yourself and plunged your hands into the cool liquid, not caring that paint was dripping everywhere - down your arms, onto the tarp. They slunk over Satoru’s body, coating him in the beautiful olive hue. As much as you wanted to see the art you were making, you also loved that it would be a surprise when he let you take off the blindfold.

The tip of Satoru’s dick knocked against your cervix as he picked up his pace, his cock beginning to twitch within you. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, holding him closer to you. He tweaked your nipples, face buried in the crook of your neck as your neediness brought him closer to his high. You wrapped your legs around his waist, hoisting yourself up off the ground for him to get a better angle.

“Ah, fuck,” he panted into the sensitive skin of your neck, “you’re killin’ me, babe.”

You only smiled, tilting your head back at the way his hips rutted against yours, at the way he rubbed against your clit so deliciously, at the way his balls slapped against the crease of your ass, dripping with the juices that flowed from you. His tip nuzzled so perfectly inside that it brought tears to your eyes. Your walls had stretched to accommodate his huge length, squeezing him so nicely.

The coil in your center needed to be unraveled. Moans poured from your lips as you used the leverage you had wrapped around him to feebly fuck him back, eliciting a string of curses falling from his mouth. Your tongues intertwined sloppily, ministrations pouring from mouth to mouth as you both approached your high.

“C-cum with me?” you panted against Satoru’s moist mouth. He only managed to get out a grunt as you felt him jump inside you once again. He fucked you hard and fast, breath nearly flaming in your mouth. Your wet hands roamed all over his body, quickly followed by your nails digging into his soft skin as fireworks exploded within you. Without warning, your orgasm hit harder than you expected, eliciting an obnoxious moan from your lungs as you held him impossibly close, squeezed him impossibly tighter.

That was all he needed as he came inside you, shuddering breath spewing against the soft skin of your chest as he planted open mouthed kisses against the unpainted inches of your breasts (at least, you hoped that he wasn’t ingesting paint). Your walls continued to contract, milking him dry as you felt him spilling in you, opting to paint your inner walls instead of the living room.

Your body convulsed with the power of the orgasm, your legs falling limp to the tarp, unable to hold themselves up anymore. His dick slipped out of you as your ass hit the ground, the empty feeling drawing a cry from your lips. You lay there, panting, feeling his cum leak out of you.

Satoru nestled into you, weighing on you like a security blanket, as you both recovered from your highs. Your fingers tangled in his hair, relishing in the movement of his chest against yours, nothing separating you as you lay tangled on the floor of your living room, in your house, in the new chapter of your lives beginning. You pressed a kiss into his hair, letting out a content sigh.

You wanted to stay like this forever. To remain in the arms of your lover, on the floor of the living room in your new home. To freeze this moment where he was all yours, when his mind was only on you, on you both, and nothing else. You knew that eventually you would both go back to work, he would go on amazing and dangerous missions, and you would be left alone in the empty house, waiting for him to come back. But, at least you would have this memory - you would know that you were his and he was yours.

“Let’s go on a field trip!” Satoru giggled, jolting you from your peaceful reverie. Your hands flew to coat themselves in paint, as you knew that he was moving you away from the tray - and you wanted to continue with your game. His arms wrapped you up and lifted you. Your nipples perked at the cool air on your back. Paint and cum dripped off your body as you wrapped your legs around his torso, squeaking at the slightest brush of his abs against your clit. In no time, you hit a wall. Satoru’s hands were on your ass in an instant, lowering you to sink down onto his dick.

A cry escaped your lips as you felt like being split in two all over again, your cum leaking all over him from your last orgasm. A shudder rocked through your body as a breath hissed out of you. Nails burrowed into skin feebly to counteract the pain of his girth stretching you.

His fingers dug into the supple flesh of your ass, painting it with his lilac liquid as he easily suspended you against the wall. You felt the damp paint begin to streak across the wall as he bounced you up and down on his cock, his face buried in your neck, gently kissing and biting the sensitive skin.

The prickly feeling of tears in your nose rose to a peak as your clit dragged against his front. Swollen from overstimulation, it throbbed weakly, your cunt weeping at the painful pleasure. Tears began to stain the blindfold as they fell from your eyes, just barely leaking out from underneath to streak down your cheeks. You sniffled, clinging to Satoru’s broad shoulders.

At the sound, a chill hit your neck as Satoru removed his face. His lips were pressing to your cheeks instantly, kissing the tears away once again. Warmth spread all over your body, being wrapped up in the arms of the sun itself.

“Oh, princess,” he muttered, still peppering kisses over your face even though the tears were gone. “Don’t cry! Look how well you’re taking my cock. You’re being so, so good for me.”

You mustered up a smile at his praises as his lips collided with yours once again. Pressing your back against the wall, you angled your body so that you were able to grind in circles on him. The overstimulation zapped within you every few strokes, but it was beginning to ebb away at the rising crest of pleasure.

“Fuck, just like that, baby,” Satoru groaned, beginning to rut into you faster. By now, all of his cum had leaked out of you, splattering distastefully onto the floor. He seemed to notice the sound at the same time you did, as it fueled him further.

“Maybe that attempt might not’ve gotten you pregnant,” he hissed into your ear, self control beginning to dissipate. “Maybe I should fuck another baby into you, hm?”

“Uh-huh,” was all you managed to force out at the ferocity in which he began railing into you. His energy never failed to amaze you, and never failed to pleasure you. One of your hands flew to the wall to steady yourself, smearing paint all over it in the process.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s see you pumped full of cum again, baby. Is that what you want? Want me to cum in you again?”

His actions were nothing short of animalistic as he pushed, pressed, pinched every inch of your body, beginning to nip at the skin of your neck as he began to lose control. Your feeble mind could barely keep up with his physical and spoken output. Your eyes squeezed shut under the blindfold, then opened, seeing nothing.

“Yes, please, ‘Toru.” Your breathing came in gasps as your high drew nearer. You could see stars in the corner of your vision as the coil in your belly threatened to unravel, spilling honey from your sex at every thrust.

“Please what?” The teasing tone of his voice was a poor cover up at the desire for you to satisfy him, to play into his fantasy that he wanted - no, needed - to make a reality.

“Please - ngh!” you couldn’t finish the sentence. Your mind was fogging up, halting all mental processes. All you could think about was his cock drilling into you, your walls weakly squeezing to keep up with his pace. His lips pressed against your chest, tasting the salt that covered your skin.

“Say it, baby.” The softness of his voice soothingly flowed over your ears, gently caressed you and carried you to the precipice of your orgasm. You drew a deep breath, forcing your brain to put together sounds.

“Please… let me make you a daddy!”

The words tumbled from your lips like prayers, falling on the ears of a sympathetic god, who showed mercy by pounding into your sopping pussy. Your lover, althought he was the one who physically dominated you, was easily emotionally bent to your will like a spring sapling. His pace faltered slightly, then picked up with a new vigor as he processed your request.

“Oh, that… that’s my girl!” he forced out, cock twitching uncontrollably within you. One of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you up, while the other reached to grab your throat. At the stimulation of the sensitive skin, he pushed you over the edge of your orgasm. You came together for the second time, mixing his seed with your juices once again as they both ran down your thighs, spilling onto his cock.

The cries that came from your lips could’ve made the neighbors call the cops. You clung to each other, suspended in a mindblowing orgasm, his hips erratically slapping against yours. Hot breath mixed between your mouths as your lips collided, soft moans expelled between the both of them. You were so close - your breaths were mixing, you couldn’t tell where his body ended and yours began, you were truly one.

“I love dragging you around like my little braindead cumslut,” Satoru whispered into your ear. Your eyebrows furrowed at his unprovoked statement, but you couldn’t help that his words made your walls clench around him.

All of a sudden, his arms disappeared, and you were supported by nothing. Struggling to find your bearings, being blindfolded, you flailed wildly. Satoru’s laughter drew a smile from your own lips as he caught you again and set you down, letting you find your footing.

You wanted to slap at him for teasing you, but your brain was still recovering, still searching your other senses to make sense of your reality. Before you could string two thoughts together, his hand was on the small of your back, guiding you a few paces away. Without warning, he pushed you over, sending you slamming nearly face first into a wall.

“Fuck! ‘Toru, that hurt!” Your whines fell on deaf ears as he spread your ass, whistling at the sight of the cum dripping down between your thighs. Your hands flew to brace yourself on the wall as he began ramming into you once again, slipping in without incident. His hands slid down your arms, coating them in paint. They finally found purchase as they reached your hands, intertwining with your fingers and raising them far up over your head.

As much as you struggled against him, you were powerless to tear your hands from his grasp. His cock slid in and out of you seamlessly, coated with the results of… how many orgasms? Five? You didn’t know, you lost count. Satoru peppered your shoulders, the grooved blades of your back, the nape of your neck, with kisses, eliciting soft moans from your mouth in opposition to the jarring ones that occurred if he thrusted into you, hitting a certain point that made your body twitch.

His hands released yours and they fell to your eye level, resuming their position in holding you up against the wall. Right after you had righted yourself, had steady footing, was about to fuck him back, he surprised you with slaps to your ass. The paint dulled them, the wet slapping sound echoing throughout the living room.

You turned to look at him, sneakily pushing up the blindfold with a free hand, to take in the sight, watching as he, tongue sticking out of his lips in focus, reared back, hand dripping with paint. The cold sting of his palm met the sensitive skin of your ass as he cocked his arm back for another hit in quick succession, almost making a drumbeat of spanking your ass. The movement was carefree, as if he was swatting an annoying bug away from him.

Paint covered his front, the lilac and olive and white all mixing together to make a swirl of beauty. It mesmerized you, the way it clung to his body, emphasizing and complimenting his stunning figure, the valleys of his abdominals, the rugged landscape of his muscles.

You turned back to the wall, the blindfold slipping over your eyes once again. They squeezed shut as he ceased, obviously pleased with how the lilac paint melted in with the redness of the plowed skin. He grabbed your ass in his ginormous hands, gently massaging it, spreading and closing it, using the cheeks in ways that took both he and you to new heights of pleasure.

“Definitely think,” he panted, lips against your ear, “that we need to frame your ass.”

Before you could even open your mouth to answer, your hands were in his once again, but he twisted your arms around to your back. He looped an arm through yours, settling the lock at the crooks of your elbows, decommissioning your movements once again. Your hands opened and snapped shut, grasping as nothing as his thrusts intensified.

His other hand, still damp with paint, roamed over your breasts, massaging and pinching the bare skin. They had been previously coated, but knowing how meticulous Satoru could be, he made sure they were absolutely slathered in copious amounts of his paint.

He pressed you into the wall again, and you felt the paint stick to the surface in the shape of your breasts. Your cheeks flamed at the thought of your entire body painted across the living room walls. But you knew that Satoru loved it, that he would be drooling over it until you decided to paint over the walls and adjust the hues to match the aesthetic that you were aiming for.

With his free hand finished with creating art out of your breasts, it traveled north, finding purchase around your neck like a piece of jewelry you’d always worn. He squeezed lightly and tilted your head back, just barely restricting your airway enough for your breath to come in rasps.

“Open up, darling.”

Like a robot, your jaw dropped and your tongue shot out, waiting for the familiar feeling of his spit. He didn’t leave you waiting long, as almost as soon as you obeyed him, his saliva was dribbling down onto your taste buds. You smiled lightly at the feeling, loving the fact that you could share this moment and label it as intimate.

“Swallow.”

Your pussy fluttered around his length, eager to obey. A sigh escaped his lips as he watched your throat bob with the odd angle that it was working against. He planted a sweet kiss to your lips, his nose brushing against your chin. The contact was lost, then found again as he nuzzled his face against your neck for a moment, before pulling away again.

“Open.” His command seemed desperate, like it was the only thing keeping him from stepping off a ledge. As much as you wanted to make fun of his theatrics, your mouth snapped open, eager to have another part of him in you. He wasted no time, coating your tongue with his saliva.

“Now wait.”

The only thing you could do was whine as your jaw began to ache from holding your mouth open for so long. He released his hold on your throat, but in true Gojo fashion, wasted no time in executing his next movement. He swiftly looped an arm under your left leg, pulling it upwards until you felt like your hips would split in half. You squealed in discomfort, drool spilling from the corners of your lips, your body being bent a million different ways. For the first time in the afternoon, Satoru relented, releasing your arms.

Your hands tangled in his hair as he bit into the soft skin of your neck, of your shoulders, back pressed against his chest. His dick, at this new angle, hit your sweet spot more perfect than before, if that was even possible. He went deeper, you squeezed him tighter, you were closer.

He thrusted into you, the tempo threatening to cast you into nothingness. With each movement you were pressed harder and harder into the wall, the paint sticking to the surface. It ached to pull you in, to suck you into the wall, to the white paint that was still drying, now mixing with the two hues that Satoru and you decorated each other with.

“One more, baby,” he cooed against the flaming skin of your shoulder. “L-lemme cum… one more time… in you.”

“Anytime, ‘Toru,” you teased, but the playful lilt in your voice was lost as he didn’t hesitate to shoot inside of you. You squealed at the way his cock jumped in you, knocking against the spot that was your downfall. His balls slapped against your clit, shoving you over the edge of an orgasm you didn’t know you were approaching.

You toes curled and cracked at the force in which the crest of pleasure hit you. Your legs gave way and you lost control of yourself for a moment, the drool you had been holding in your mouth spilling like a waterfall over your bruised lips. Satoru was quick to catch you, laughing at your frailty, which for once, you didn’t mind.

His lips were on your face, kissing and licking away the spit that had escaped the trap of your mouth. He supported you in a way you didn’t think you’d ever need, but surprisingly, you didn’t mind relying on someone for help. A warmness spread in your chest at the affirmation that you truly loved him - you loved him enough to not complain at him holding your drool-soaked and cumstained body limp in his arms.

“God, you are just so full of cum, aren’t you, baby?” Satoru purred into your hair, stroking it gently. You could only muster a weak “mmhm,” your body still shaking from the overstimulation and the last orgasm he unleashed on you. “Well, are you gonna let me taste?”

You didn’t have time to answer before he scooped you up in his arms, giving you the vivid sensation of flying. A coolness met your ass as he set you down on what you could only assume was the mantle of the fireplace. He spread your legs apart, ignoring the fact that they attempted to squeeze together to protect your weeping cunt from being stimulated further.

“S-satoru,” you winced, “I’m sensitive!”

It was no matter to him, however. He pulled your bottom slightly forward, so that your ass was teetering on the edge of the tile, giving him better access to your aching center. A loud cry escaped your lips as he gave your swollen clit a few soft licks.

You whimpered, your thighs trembling around him as he sucked on your impossibly sensitive bud. Your hands tangled in his hair, the gummy paint clinging to it and clumping it together. After a few more moments of relentless stimulation, he seemed to ease up, giving way to softer movements against your weeping cunt.

“You should see yourself,” Satoru muttered against you. “Sitting like a queen.”

Perched like royalty on the furnishing that had given you enough trouble to start this whole session in the first place. You chuckled at the thought of it, at the sight of your past selves wrestling to coat each other in paint what seemed like days ago. It was fitting to end your love making where it began, fitting to christen your house to be yours.

“Hah,” you breathed, “I can only imagine the sight.”

A sigh escaped his lips, the hot breath on your sensitive center making your legs twinge. His hands gently squeezed your thighs, each press planting flowers across your skin. The soft tufts of his hair tickled the inside of your legs as he nuzzled impossibly closer to your cunt.

“Spit in my mouth.” His request couldn’t have been more foreign, but you tried your best anyway. You leaned over, assuming that your trajectory would be right, or that he would make it work. Gathering the saliva in your mouth, you let it fall from your lips. A chuckle came from beneath you, so you assumed your aim was okay.

Your mixed spit was spewed from Satoru’s mouth as he spit it onto your already dripping cunt, the liquid leaking down between your asscheeks. You gasped at the sensation, beginning to lose feeling in your toes as another orgasm approached. Your eyes shut tight, but even with the blindfold, fireworks still exploded in your vision.

You were definitely not going to be able to walk for a few days.

The thought drew a bitter laugh from your lips that was quickly cut short by Satoru’s dexterous tongue flicking across your clit. Your teeth sunk so deep into your bottom lip that the skin threatened to tear. At his relentless pace, your muscles pulled impossibly tense, taut, as you sat, rigid, teeth bared as ungodly sounds poured from your mouth.

And then, he would soften. Pull back and kiss and lick the inside of your thighs, place love bites, suckle on the warm skin to leave marks you would marvel at for days. He’d massage the tender skin, draw patterns with the remaining paint. He’d study you like a scholar, memorizing the view of your exposed throat as your head tilted back, mouth open as moans spilled forth.

It was a cycle that he continued, pressing you further to your orgasm, then relenting to give you a break. Over and over again, never stopping, like you were the shore and he was the tide, pressing in and pulling away, constant, always present.

After what seemed like hours of edging, you were finally on the precipice of what you actually hoped was your last orgasm. Your body couldn’t take much more, as you probably would stroke out or something else that was equally disastrous, but it would be something that would elicit an awkward urgent care visit.

“Satoru…” you whispered, not even needing to finish your sentence.

“One more time, love. Cum for me.”

The affirmation was all you needed before you gushed all over his face. His gasp of surprise was cut short as he dove right back in, ignoring the waterworks. Your entire body shook with the force of your orgasm, sending your hands flying everywhere - into his hair, gripping the mantle, smearing paint all over the wall behind you.

But nothing was enough to ground you as you cut the tether and drifted off into space. Your body floated, suspended at the force of this orgasm. You could barely feel Satoru’s warmth between your legs as the buzzing took over your entire body, your skin flaming with pleasure as you feebly grinded on his tongue.

Your pussy throbbed, achingly swollen at the multiple orgasms Satoru had guided you to. As this last one ebbed, he wrapped his arms tenderly around you, lifting you from the throne he had placed you on. He planted kisses on your head, on your forehead, on your cheeks as he carried you bridal style across the room, then gently plopped down on the ground.

You remained nestled between his legs, your fingers intertwined as you sat together, relishing in the closeness of each other. His mind-numbingly warm skin was pressed against yours, sending sparks firing off all across your body. After a few more moments of blissful silence, Satoru cleared his throat.

“Are you ready for the grand reveal?” His smile broke through the phrase like a sunbeam. You nodded, not feeling like using your voice. His dexterous fingers hooked under the blindfold as you shut your eyes tight, not wanting to hurt your eyes by immediately exposing them to the light.

After a few more moments, your eyes creaked open, blinking to clear away the crusty remains of tears and to focus on the sight that presented itself to you. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the world cast into an eerie twilight that was simply magical. It was the perfect lighting to behold the mural that you created in your living room.

Streaks of paint covered the walls, most of them completely indiscernible as to what part of the body they were made by, except for a few, such as your ass prints and the plumpness of your breasts. Heat rose to your cheeks at the sight of such an abstract portrayal of art, and how breathtakingly beautiful it was. You sunk further into Satoru, insanely grateful at his stupid antics and what they spiraled into.

“I guess I have to restart my paint job, huh?” you nudged him with your elbow, the gooey, sweaty skin sticking together. You tilted your head up, observing his reaction. Satoru furrowed his brows, his hair falling into his face in green clumps.

“I don’t know…” he trailed off, flashing an award-winning smile. “I kinda like it!”

He was right. The messy pieces of your love were growing on you as you studied them further. It was pure art, pure passion, splayed across the walls of your home. The handprints, clinging to nothingness in the hopes of being steadied. The smears, results of loving and pleasurable thrusts. The asscheeks, of course, the lovers who facilitated the beautiful creation.

A calm settled on you like nothing you had ever felt before. A sense of security folded in around you as you lay in your lover’s arms, proudly surveying what you had made together. You closed your eyes in bliss, relishing in the warmth and peace.

Wait…

Your heart fell to your ass at an intrusive, yet irrevocably important fact. Eyes widening, you shot up, ignoring the chills that spread throughout your body in the absence of Satoru’s warm skin pressed against you.

“Shit!” you gasped, the detail that you had glossed over for the entire afternoon expanding to take up the entirety of your mind. “Kento’ll be here in an hour.”

Satoru laughed at your scrambling to pick up your clothes and throw them in a basket, trying your best to tidy up the living room. You put the paint together in a neat fashion; you smoothed the tarp, ignoring the imprints of your bodies and the paint smears that littered it; you also did your best to avert your gaze from the numerous pools of cum that were scattered across the floor. Your eyes widened in horror at the thing that you were just marveling at - the one thing you couldn’t hide from your best friend.

The living room walls, like a subdued pornographic mural, stared back at you. The tarp crackled as your lover stood. You looked at Satoru, your eyes big as saucers. He smiled gently, taking your hands in his and pulling you closer to him, placing them on his chest.

“There’s nothing we can do to fix it, so let’s just get cleaned up, alright?” His arms wrapped around you, snuggling you to his chest. You sighed, turning your head to the side to hear his heart thumping. He planted a kiss on the top of your head.

“Okay,” you murmured, then peered up at him with a devilish grin, “but only if you join me.”

“That was implied!”

Once you had gone for another round and managed to scrape the paint off of your bodies, you were ready for the dinner that Kento was bringing. Earlier that day, he had offered to bring you food to celebrate the end of the first day of home renovation - which you eagerly accepted. Pizza was easy to clean up, and a viable way to recharge, so that was an easy decision to make.

A knock on the door sounded as soon as you were making your way down the stairs. Satoru took off in a sprint, reaching the front door in just a few strides. He threw it open, spreading his arms wide for a hug. You hung back, trying to avert your gaze from your living room mural.

“Nanamin!” he yelled, embracing his friend despite the boxes of pizzas he was carrying. Kento’s eyes narrowed as he struggled to keep his balance at Satoru’s enthused greeting.

“Careful, Gojo!” the tall man growled, pushing Satoru away to keep the boxes from tumbling all across your porch. You laughed at their interaction, catching up to them and taking the boxes from Kento.

“How are you?” he asked, silently thanking you for taking his burden, but ignoring the fact that you left him with a bigger one instead. A playful smile toyed with your lips as a strand of wet hair fell into your face.

“Tired, but glad to have one day down,” you admitted, turning and leading the way to the kitchen. Satoru tsked as you set down the boxes of pizza on the kitchen table. You whirled around to face him, setting your hands on your hips.

“Now, darling,” he began, voice chiding, as if speaking to a child, “you know you aren’t supposed to eat in the kitchen until the renovations are finished.”

Your heart fell into your stomach when you saw the expression on Satoru’s face. He was an absolute menace, looking to antagonize you in any way he could; however, you thought this ploy was geared more towards Kento’s discomfort. You gritted your teeth and decided to do your best to gear the conversation in a way that you wouldn’t have to expose your deeds. Blinking innocently, you fixed your mouth into a smile, trying not to look pained.

“What?”

“Yeah,” Kento agreed, walking to the table to grab the boxes of pizza, not knowing that he was playing directly into Satoru’s sick idea of a joke, “I actually heard that’s bad luck.”

You wanted to slap your palm into your forehead. As smart as Nanami was, he was almost always stroking Gojo’s ego whether he knew it, liked it, or not. You fired a glance at Satoru, pleading for him to not go through with this antagonizing, but he ignored you.

“Bad luck!” Satoru gasped dramatically, eyes widening as he wiggled his brows at you. A sigh escaped your lips as you cast him a warning glare instead. This, also, was a fruitless effort. Satoru was dead set on torturing his best friend.

“So where the hell are we supposed to eat?” you shot at Satoru, not even bothering to look at him anymore as you shuffled towards the two towering men. Your grip had tightened, your nails digging into your palms.

“Uh, I dunno, the living room?”

“Satoru…” The tone in your voice would make a child cry. You trotted to the cabinet to scoop up paper plates and napkins to intercept him before he made another move to expose your afternoon.

“No, I wanna see it!” Nanami insisted, picking up the pizza boxes. The doors slammed shut behind you as you whirled around, seeing Satoru’s sly glance. You wanted to wipe the smile off his face. “Didn’t you say you were gonna paint it today?”

Satoru gently led him to the living room. You tried to catch up with them, but the tall men had long strides. Your head was screaming for him to stop, but you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself and make matters worse.

“Yes but-“

You were too late; Kento and Satoru had already entered the living room. The boxes of pizza clattered to the floor as Nanami ripped off his glasses, eyes widening in horror at the sight of your bodies sloppily painted on the wall.

“What in the fuck happened here?!”

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