#holy.hymns

[saintodo]

thots: vampire gojo + mouth inspection

♡ note: i wanna be weird w him :/

♡ word count: .5k

♡ tags: gender neutral reader, blood, vampire/human relationship, mouth inspection, suggestive

vampire gojo would happily allow you to inspect his mouth. he is quick to give into your demands, more amused than anything by the strange request. he’s willing to do most anything for his favorite human. gojo likes how you’re bold, so utterly unafraid of him even though he could easily overpower you if he desired to.

he’s pliant as he allows you to wrap one of your hands around the length of his neck- your palm brushing against the faded scars of his sire’s bite, sending a pleasant thrum through his system- and tilt his head back to your liking. gojo playfully opens his mouth, baring his teeth in a smile, which only earns him an eye roll from you. with two of your fingers around the curve of his jaw, you gently urge gojo to open his mouth wider for you, slackening his jaw. he obliges.

your movements are exploratory and your expression is curious as you run the tips of your fingers along the edges of his teeth. you're gentle, careful as you treat gojo with a level of care that he is unused to. it makes gojo want to capitalize all of you. he can easily admit that he's become greedy when it comes to you.

by the time you've reached his fangs, you've grown more confident and comfortable, your movements now fluid as you explore the inside of gojo's mouth. your eyes glint with something that gojo can't place as you press the pad of your pointer finger against the point of his canines, pressing and pressing until the skin breaks. a drop of blood lands on gojo’s tongue, and his mouth instanteously pools with saliva at the taste of your blood. gojo is no stranger to feeding on humans, but none of their blood has tasted quite as sweet or as addictive as yours.

gojo tries to swallow down the taste, but you prevent him from doing so. you push your thumb down on the flat of his tongue, not enough to cause his discomfort but enough for him to feel the pressure of it. he makes a sound in the back of his throat, high and whiny that you've gotten in the way of him tasting you.

you're merciful, lifting your thumb off of his tongue soon enough. gojo greedily swallows, unashamedly moaning at the taste of you. he can feel himself getting hard, his pants tightening to an almost uncomfortable degree in his pants. his throat bobs as you move your thumb to the plush of his lower lip, smearing a mix of his saliva and your blood against it.

for the first time since you started your inspection, you meet gojo’s eyes. your pupils are blown out, your irises nothing but a small ring of color. hunger and desire swirls in your gaze.

gojo is confident he looks the same.

with his hands around your waist, he eagerly tugs you closer until you're seated in his lap. you brace yourself, your hands flying to gojo's chest to steady yourself. through the material of his shirt, he can feel the stickiness of his saliva coating your fingers. your hips are flush with his own, and he knows you can feel his prominent arousal when you shift in his lap. gojo wraps a hand around your wrist, prompting you to push your fingers back into his mouth. you hiss when gojo nips at your fingertips, drawing the slightest amount of blood from you. he smiles around your fingers, his fangs bared.

now that he's gotten a taste of you, gojo wants more.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #shrine.jujutsu kaisen #saint.gojo satoru #holy.hymns #sorry if this is rough it's been so long .... since i've written anything ... pls be kind T-T

[saintodo]

thots: gojo and plushies

♡ note: this is a bit ridiculous but i had fun writing this lil thing <3

♡ pairing: gojo satoru x gn reader

♡ word count: 1k

♡ tags: gojo has a hard on, lead up to sex, presence of stuffed animals, silliness <3

"wait.”

instantly, you stop, mid-motion. you pause from undressing, uncrossing your arms and releasing the hold you have on the lower hem of your t-shirt. you prop yourself up, your elbows dipping into the mattress, and look up at your lover. your eyes connect with crystal blue hues as you tilt your head, slightly confused and concerned.

“what’s wrong, satoru?” you ask, soft worry trickling into your voice. the man in question stands tall at the foot of your bed, lips pulled into a tight line that’s completely atypical of him, especially in circumstances such as one like this. it makes your heart stutter with gentle concern.

you sit up a little more, using your hands to push yourself up until your back no longer touches the bed, and reach out towards gojo. he has already ridded himself of his shirt, the garment lying someplace unknown to you on your floor. your palm comes in contact with his bare skin as you rest your hand around the sloping curve of his waist. his muscles flex beneath your touch. “do you want to stop? because we can stop right now and just-”

“no, no. that’s not it,” gojo says, shaking his head. “i definitely do not want to stop,” he assures you. he places his, much larger, hand over yours, his palm warm against the back of your hand. you maintain eye-contact with gojo as you allow him to guide your hand lower and lower down his body. your eyes briefly widen, breath hitching when gojo places your hand directly over his clothed erection. “i’m so hard right now, i could die.”

“you’re so dramatic,” you huff, firmly squeezing his cock in retaliation for the exaggerated comment. instinctively, his hips buck forward and a strangled sound forms in his chest, threatening to break free from his pretty mouth. the corner of your lips quirk up, pleased by his reaction. “you still haven’t told me what’s wrong, satoru,” you point out, continuing to palm him through his dark pants until he wraps a large hand around your wrist, prompting you to stop.

he gently tugs your hand away from his cock, letting you pull it back to your side, and leans forward, closer to you. he nearly has to bend in half in order to do so. 

your pulse jumps when he fits his large hand beneath your jaw. his fingers splay across the side of your throat, his thumb and forefinger resting on your cheeks. gojo’s eyes- bright and blue and entirely focused with a concentration that makes you want to hide away- stay trained on your face as he pinches those two fingers together, squeezing either side of your face until your lips are forced to form a pout. your eyes flutter shut when he leans in and kisses you, but they’re quick to open again when gojo ends the kiss much too soon for your liking.

you glare at him, and gojo only chuckles at you. “you’re so cute,” he coos, stealing another kiss from you- one that’s still much too short according to you. 

gently, gojo angles your face to the side, your head turning towards the wall that the length of your bed is pressed against. “i don’t want our kids to watch us.”

your eyes drop down from the expanse of your plain wall to your collection of stuffed animals that lie on top of your bed before they dart to gojo’s face.

“satoru, you have to be kidding me.”

your words are slightly garbled since gojo still has a grip on your face.

“oh, i am so serious, sweetheart,” gojo says, squeezing your cheeks in time with his words. he releases his hold on you with a grin after you make a move to nip his fingers.

you lean back on your forearms as you roll your eyes before giving gojo an unimpressed look. “just turn them around then.”

“but they can still hear us!” gojo counters, and you level a glare at him.

“satoru, they’re inanimate objects. they cannot hear nor see us.”

gojo gasps as if you’ve offended him. “don’t talk about our kids like that.”

“satoru, i swear i’m going to leave—”

the threat dies out on your tongue when gojo suddenly cages you in, forcing your back against the mattress and pressing so close to you that you can feel his chest rise and fall with his breaths.

his lips brush against the shell of your ear, and you can feel the cool gloss that coats them dragging across your skin, leaving it sticky. you shiver when you feel his teeth scrape against your earlobe.

“what was that about leaving?” gojo hums.

you grip his biceps with your hands, pressing your fingertips into his soft skin to ground yourself. a noise of contentment escapes you when gojo’s lips begin to trail down the column of your neck.

“you’re an idiot,” you breathily say as you bare your neck for the man, giving him more space to press his lips to. you moan- digging your nails into his skin- when he nips at a a particularly sensitive spot before he soothes the area with his tongue.

you protest when gojo detaches his lips from your skin, mourning the loss of contact. with his hands supporting his weight, he hovers over you, grinning down at you. “and you’re needy,” he quips, chuckling when you half-heartedly slap at his chest for the comment. “aw, don’t be mean to me, baby.”

gojo shifts his weight to the side, using only one hand to keep himself from crushing you. in one clean sweep of his arm, gojo pushes all of your plushes off of your bed and onto your bedroom floor. after they’ve all tumbled to the ground, gojo resumes his previous position, hands placed on either side of your head. his bare chest brushes against yours as he leans in close to your face. you gasp when gojo firmly presses the lower half of his body against you, his cock- aching and hard- dragging right where you want him most. you feel the upward curve of his lips as he grins into your skin.

“now where were we?”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #sin too much #shrine.jujutsu kaisen #saint.gojo satoru #holy.hymns

[saintodo]

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃

NOTE. the manga panel is me when i see gojo’s tits

PAIRING. gojo satoru x gender neutral reader

WORD COUNT. 2.1k

WARNINGS. dom reader, sub gojo, male titty sucking/fondling, slight feminization (calling pecs tits), grinding, cumming in pants

You walk into the living room of your apartment with all your attention on the phone clasped in your hand. You’re scrolling through social media, half-heartedly paying attention to the images and text popping up in your feed. You harshly exhale in a silent laugh when a particularly funny post pops up.

“Satoru, what do you think we should do—”

Slowly, your hand lowers to your side. Your grip on your phone loosens, causing it to nearly drop out of your grasp. The question of what your plans should be for this upcoming weekend dies out on your tongue as soon as you gain a glimpse of your boyfriend.

As usual, Gojo is sprawled out on your large, comfortable couch, long limbs thrown in every direction. It looks like he’s trying to take up as much space as possible, which could very well be the case. He’s not wearing his modified uniform for a change, dressed in casual at-home pants and…

“What are you wearing?” The question falls from your lips before you can really think about how it could come across. Your boyfriend knows you well enough to know you don’t mean any offense by it. You stand in the hallway near the entrance of the living room, unblinking.

Gojo’s attention shifts from the flatscreen tv, playing one of his favorite movies (one of those films where it’s so fucking bad that it’s good) onto you. His sky-blue eyes shine brightly over the tops of his sunglasses.

“Hm?” he hums, processing your question. He tilts his head at an angle to showcase his faux confusion. You ignore the way his sharp jawline flexes.

“Oh, this,” Gojo says like it’s just dawned on him what you meant by your very direct question. With his pointer finger and thumb, he pulls on the cotton material of the t-shirt he’s wearing. “I tried to do laundry the other day and accidentally shrunk all of my shirts.”

You can see that.

The shirt is beyond tight. Hugging every curve and dip of Gojo’s upper body, the once loose t-shirt is now obscenely form-fitting. His pecs are fucking bulging. The material is suffocating them, and they look like they’re about ready to spill out of the top that has his collarbones on full display.

The bottom of the faded black t-shirt is also a good few inches shorter than it used to be, exposing a lot more of Gojo’s torso. The darkness of the top contrasts greatly with the revealed paleness of Gojo’s skin. You watch, mesmerized, as his abdominal muscles flex as he shifts around a little bit.

You would jump Gojo’s bones if he attempted to leave the house looking like that. You already have to deal with people openly ogling him when you go out together. You don’t even want to imagine how many more people would shamelessly stare or flirt with him if he wore a fitted cropped top.

“Oh, you like it.”

Gojo’s comment knocks you right out of your reverie. The amusement in his tone, the knowingness of his voice, immediately makes a scowl form on your lips. Your gaze drifts from Gojo’s chest, which you were not checking out, to meet his eyes. The Cheshire-like grin he’s donning makes your eye twitch.

“Shut up, no I don’t,” you instantly respond.

It’s not that you don’t think your boyfriend is hot shit, he is. He 100% is. But, there is no way in fuck you’re going to admit to your boyfriend you think he looks fucking hot right now. You absolutely cannot and will not inflate his ego like that.

His crystal-blue eyes gleam, and you know you have lost already. Sometimes, you forget that your partner is the single most powerful sorcerer there is on Earth and that his powers are unparalleled by any other being. Truly and honestly, screw him and his stupid ability to know when you’re being untruthful.

“Liar,” Gojo says in a sing-songy manner. He wags his pointer finger side to side to emphasize his statement.

You groan, taking long strides across the room. Haphazardly, you toss your phone onto the coffee table and hope that the screen doesn’t shatter from your rough behavior. A loud huff escapes Gojo when you flop down onto the couch with a loud, exaggerated sigh. You maneuver around until your lower back is resting against the armrest and your legs are parallel to Gojo’s.

You’re smart enough to know when you’ve been defeated.

“What do you want me to say, ‘Toru?” You huff, glaring at the man facing you from the opposite end of the couch. There’s no real heat behind your apparent harsh look. “Wow, you look so fucking hot or something?” you sarcastically say. You gesture by waving a hand around in the air. “I tell you that shit like every day already.” 

“I haven’t heard you tell me that today,” Gojo innocently says.

You groan, realizing that you have not in fact told Gojo today how attractive you find him. Then again, you didn’t mean it literally, but of course, your boyfriend would take your words at face value if playing dumb benefited him. Oh well. Guess you’ll indulge him.

The movie’s audio buzzes at a low volume as you crawl over Gojo’s stupidly long legs, careful not to hurt him or yourself. You place your hands on either side of Gojo’s head, balancing yourself as you hover over your boyfriend.

Gently, you move aside Gojo’s sunglasses to rest on top of his head. His light blue eyes, now revealed to you, swim with mischief and amusement. Underneath all of that, you can see the beginnings of arousal swirling in his pretty hues.

“You look hot, ‘Toru.” You lean in closer. Your nose brushes against Gojo’s and your lips nearly touch. You can feel the upward curve of a smile on Gojo’s lips. Soft exhales fill the little space between you. “Really hot.”

Gojo is the one to close the space separating you. The translucent gloss coating his lips glides onto yours. You find the minty taste of it not unpleasant on your tongue when you lick the seam of his mouth.

Shifting your body, you ease yourself over Gojo’s lap and lay your knees on either side of his torso to support the majority of your weight. His hands on your hips help guide you into a comfortable position for both of you.

“I do look hot, don’t I?” Gojo teases when you pull away from his lips to trail kisses along the column of his neck. The playfulness in his voice dies down a little bit, replaced with a moan when you harshly nip at his fragile skin.

“Shut up,” you mutter between the love bites you’re decorating Gojo’s neck with. His skin is so sensitive in this area, it’s almost comical. Even if you just licked a line down the curve of his neck, it would prompt a slight shiver to travel throughout Gojo’s entire body.

In his daily life, he’s so good at masking his true feelings, but in the bedroom, there is nowhere left for Gojo to hide. The way he’s receptive to your every touch is obvious, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your hands move from their place by Gojo’s head to his abdomen, pushing his shrunken t-shirt all the way up until it’s bunched up above his pecs.

You grab a handful of the mound of flesh presented before you and delight in the way Gojo’s eyes go lidded and his mouth parts to form a slight o.

“You have such pretty tits, Satoru,” you sigh reverently. With one hand, you continue to palm at the muscle, feeling his heartbeat thrum beneath your touch. You dip your head over his other pec and wrap your mouth around his nipple.

He tastes like skin, which is not exactly earth-shattering. Swirling your tongue around the hardening bud, you can make out the faint audio of the movie that’s still playing on the screen. But, your quiet hums and Gojo’s loud, breathy whines quickly drown out the noise.

“O-oh, fuck,” Gojo curses, dropping his head back over the edge of the sofa.

Internally, you smile and relish how you’ve made him stutter over his words. The fact that you are the only person who gets to see the great Gojo Satoru like this fuels your ego. But, you are also filled with an overabundance of affection for the white-haired sorcerer. The trust and vulnerability shown through his actions of allowing you to see him like this, of allowing you to bring him such pleasure is not lost on you.

Even if Gojo Satoru is a menace, you love him all the same.

He wraps a large hand around the back of your neck- the heat of his palm bleeds into your skin- and urges you closer, even if you are already as close as possible.

You run your tongue over Gojo’s nipple and tug it between your teeth over and over until it’s all puffy and aching from your continued abuse. After you’re satisfied with the pretty shade of pink it is, you mouth at the rest of his tit.

Distantly, you’re aware of how much of a mess you’re making. Saliva and sweat now coat Gojo’s skin as your tongue glides over the firm muscle of his pec. Saltiness infiltrates your tastebuds as you nip his skin, leaving reddening love bites in your wake.

Your fingers tweak his other nipple, gently pulling and rolling it between your forefinger and thumb until it’s a hardened peak. Once you’re content, you switch your focus and wrap your lips around the pulsing bud.

Beneath you, you can feel the outline of Gojo’s hardness through his pants. With the thought of getting your partner back for teasing you so often, you shift the majority of your weight off of your knees to your center. An unabashed moan leaves Gojo’s lips when you settle more into his lap and grind down against his erection. His large hand tightens around the back of your neck: his grip is a little uncomfortable, but not painful.

“You make really cute noises, ‘Toru,” you exhale into his skin, barely lifting your lips from their place around the swollen bud you were running your tongue over. Your fingers toy with his other nipple, which you just had your mouth on. “So lewd of you to get off by having your tits played with,” you comment.

His face reddens, a stark contrast to his usually pale skin. 

“They’re not—ah, fuck—they’re not tits,” Gojo whines in weak protest. Snow-white strands fall onto his forehead as he lifts his head off of the edge of the armrest. You hum unconvinced.

Gojo can say all he wants and deny your statements as much as he likes, but at the end of the day, he has a fat pair of titties. And going off of how he instinctively ruts his hips up when you call his pecs tits, you know he fucking likes it.

You opt to keep quiet and continue playing with his pretty tits. Alternating between laving long strokes over Gojo’s nipple with your tongue and lightly sucking on the hardened peak, you’re pleased when you manage to draw another high-pitched moan from him.

The friction from grinding down on Gojo’s clothed cock sends sparks up your spine. The action feels good, but you’re more focused on having Gojo come undone for you. When your gaze drifts upward to the white-haired man, you can tell you’re nearly there.

His face is flushed a deep scarlet down to his chest. You’re slightly surprised to see his sunglasses are missing from the top of his head: they must have fallen without your notice. His hair- let down from its typical spiked-up style- is messy and disheveled with many loose strands falling over his forehead. It's Gojo's eyes that catch you a little off guard. The bright blue hue of his irises is overtaken by the dark inkiness of his pupils. His eyes dilate even more when he catches your gaze.

His chest heaves under your tongue, and you know that Gojo is about ready to fall off the precipice. 

With a harsh pinch to his nipple and a rock of your hips, you send Gojo hurtling over the edge. His eyes immediately flutter shut, rolling to the back of his head. A stream of curses interrupted by whines flows from his mouth as his hips jerk up against you in search of prolonging the friction.

You can feel the wet patch growing beneath you as Gojo cums in his pants. You drink in his reactions, stoking the flames of arousal that lie deep in your gut.

You release your mouth from where it's latched to Gojo's pec and sit up a little when he's recovered from his orgasm. You admire how pretty he looks when wrecked: a complete mess with his shirt still bunched up just above his pecs.

Gojo should wear crop tops more often. Only around the house, though. He should never wear them out.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #sub jjk #sub jujutsu kaisen #jjk thirst #jujutsu kaisen thirst #sin too much #holy.hymns #saint.gojo satoru #shrine.jujutsu kaisen #tw dom reader

[saintodo]

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒

SYNOPSIS. working at the gym has its benefits. the biggest one being the hot milf that comes in on a near-daily basis: mikasa ackerman.

NOTE. this is for clo’s (@delirieum) collab “merry milfmas!” thank u for letting me join clo n ‘m so sorry that this is so late 

PAIRING. milf mikasa ackerman x gender neutral reader

WORD COUNT. 4.2k

WARNINGS. dom reader, sub mikasa, age gap, explicit content, semi-public sex, mirror sex, finger sucking, cumming in clothes

Upon graduating from college, you enter the workforce excited to finally put your major to use. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for you to discover that you really fucking hate any occupation associated with your degree. If only you had made that realization earlier, you lament while digging the heel of your palms into your eye sockets, you would have saved yourself a fuckton of money. Oh well. Too late for that. You eventually accept that all that you can do now is move forward if you don't want to wake up dreading the oncoming day for the rest of your life.

So, you quit your shitty job and rethink your life plan. A lot of research and a reevaluation of what it is that you really want to do leads you down the path of getting certified as a personal trainer and landing a job at one of your local gyms. You would have never thought you’d end up working as a personal trainer after graduating from university, but you’re pretty content with the way your life has turned out.

There are plenty of upsides to your current occupation. You’re basically your own boss so your hours are flexible and your earnings are controlled by you. You take pride in your title, and it brings you great joy to connect with clients and help them reach the goals they’ve set for themselves. 

However, the greatest benefit of your job isn’t how much money you make or how flexible your hours are. No, the greatest benefit of your job takes the form of a person by the name of Mikasa Ackerman.

When you’re not busy conducting one-on-one training sessions or leading small group exercise classes, you normally help out at the front desk of the gym. It’s easy enough: all you have to do is sit behind the computer and check people in. Mikasa Ackerman just happens to be one of those people you check in.

It’s hard not to take notice of her. The woman is older than you, by how much you’re not sure, but you’d guess by a good number of years. Even though she’s definitely more than a few years your senior, she’s fit as fuck. She wears these tight little athletic tank-tops and form-fitting leggings that cling to her every curve and show off all of her tight muscles. She’s absolutely gorgeous in an effortless sort of way like she’s unaware of how hot she is.

She comes in almost every day to work out accompanied by who you believe is her daughter. The little girl who can’t be any older than six years old is the spitting image of her mother, after all, so you’re pretty confident in your assumption. Your suspicion is confirmed by your friend Historia who works in the childcare facility that’s a part of the gym.

Although Mikasa’s obviously a mother, you note the distinct absence of a ring on her left hand.

That alone doesn’t tell you she’s a single woman, but you’ve overheard her making small talk before and have gathered enough information to lead you to believe that she and her daughter’s father are separated. That helps ease your guilty conscience of checking out what could have been a taken woman.

Your limited conversations with Mikasa Ackerman always occur when you’re helping out at the front desk. (If you happen to somehow always be available to work the front desk around the time that Mikasa Ackerman comes to check-in, that is nobody’s business but yours and your boss’.) You’ll greet her and her daughter with a cheerful welcome when you see her pass through the open entrance. She’ll return your greeting with a quiet hello while her cute kid will give you a toothy grin and an exuberant hello. You got to admit that the obvious difference in personality between them is really cute, considering Mikasa’s daughter is the carbon copy of her.

Your interaction with Mikasa is always brief and polite before she goes off to bring her daughter to the daycare service provided by the gym. You’ve entertained the idea of flirting with Mikasa just to see if it would go anywhere but you really like your job and don’t want to get written up for harassment or anything of the sort.

When you informed Sasha of your dilemma, she laughed in your face and told you to grow a pair. You rolled your eyes and sarcastically thanked her for the great advice. Even if you did take Sasha’s advice of “growing a pair” into consideration and flirted with Mikasa, you have no idea if she would be receptive to your advances.

So you resolve yourself to silently admiring Mikasa Ackerman any time she comes to work out. When there’s a lull in the number of patrons entering the gym, you’ll discreetly glance over in Mikasa’s direction. She has a certain routine you’ve noticed that she follows like clockwork. For most of her gym visit, she lifts weights in the far corner of the building. Your eyes follow the way the muscles of her arms flex with each curl she does and the beads of sweat that drip down her forehead. Your throat goes dry when she halts her set and uses the bottom of her tank-top to wipe her face, revealing a tight set of abs that glisten in the harsh light of the gym. Whenever that happens, you’ll avert your gaze away before anybody can catch you, especially Mikasa, and busy yourself with pretend work.

Your routine of admiring Mikasa from afar is effectively changed when she inquires about a one-on-one training session. To say you’re shocked would be an understatement. You’ve seen Mikasa Ackerman work out: she clearly knows how to use the machinery correctly and knows the proper techniques to maintain her incredible physique. You quickly overcome your surprise to respond to her question.

You quietly clear your throat to recompose yourself. “When would you like to schedule your session for?” you politely ask with a practiced smile gracing your face. On the computer in front of you, you pull up your work calendar.

In front of the desk, Mikasa looks down at her own calendar displayed on her smartphone’s screen. Below the edge of the countertop, the dark-haired woman’s daughter fidgets in place, tightly clutching her mother’s hand. Your smile softens, becoming a little more genuine at the cute sight. “Would this Thursday at 7 p.m. work?”

You tear your eyes away from where Mikasa and her daughter’s hands are interlocked and bring your attention back to your computer screen. “This Thursday at 7 p.m.,” you hum, contemplatively. You barely glance at your calendar. “That should work!” Even if you were booked, you would have made it work somehow.

You fill out the time slot with the necessary information that Mikasa provides you with. “Well,” you say after all that’s dealt with. “I’ll see you this Thursday, Miss Ackerman. I hope you have a nice visit today.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you then,” she says with a slight dip of her head. As Mikasa walks off, her daughter gives you an enthusiastic wave goodbye, which you return with equal fervor. You chuckle to yourself, smiling lightly. Mikasa’s got a really adorable kid.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Sasha slides behind the front desk next to you, playfully bumping you with her hip. Her messy ponytail bounces over her shoulder as she shoots you a wide lopsided grin.

Resting an elbow on the flat countertop, you turn your attention to your coworker and friend. “Guess who just scheduled a personal training session with me?” you ask, wiggling your brows for effect.

“No fucking way,” Sasha exclaims, jaw dropping wide open. You’re quick to shush her for her sudden increase in volume. She sheepishly smiles when some of the gym’s nearby patrons glance in your direction. “You’re telling me Mikasa the Milf signed up for a one-on-one session with you?” She hisses in disbelief below her breath. Her eyes gleam with excitement for you.

You restrain the urge to rub at your temple. “Sasha, please do not refer to her as Mikasa the Milf when we’re around people, it’s unprofessional,” you sigh in slight exasperation. Mikasa is one hundred percent a milf but you’d prefer if your patrons didn’t overhear you or Sasha calling her that. The corner of your lips slowly quirks up. “But if you must know, yes,” you say, smiling.

Tendrils of light brown hair fall out of Sasha’s ponytail to frame her face as she vigorously shakes you by the shoulders. “Dude, that’s great! Are you going to try and ask her out or something?”

You place your hands on Sasha’s shoulders to get her to stop shaking you so hard. You’re sure that your appearance is a little more rumpled than it was just a second ago. “Sasha, I gotta keep it professional. Although Miss Ackerman is very, very attractive, she’s now one of my clients,” you say, more so to convince yourself than the brunette standing before you.

“Mm, I think you should still ask her out but I’ll leave it alone for now.” You sigh in relief that Sasha’s dropping the issue for the time being. You know that soon enough she’ll go back to pestering you about "growing a pair" to ask out Mikasa.

“Thanks, Sash. In other news, how are you and Niccolo doing?”

Her eyes brighten immediately at the mention of the chef she’s been going out with recently. You listen to your friend ramble about how fantastic things have been going with the blond doing your best to be attentive, but in the back of your mind, you’re thinking about Thursday evening.

The rest of the week passes you by in a blur. You lead a larger number of small group classes and meet with your regulars, which helps take your mind off of Mikasa Ackerman and the private session she’s scheduled with you. You still can’t quite understand why someone like her would be in need of a personal trainer but you guess there’s always something new to be learned.

By the time Thursday evening approaches, you’re a little nervous. Who wouldn’t be? Mikasa Ackerman is a beautiful woman with whom you’ve only exchanged a few words here and there before. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been methodically wiping down some of the machines in an attempt to try and ease your nerves by losing yourself in the mindless task.

When the clock hits ten till seven p.m., you tidy yourself up a little, putting away the cleaning supplies in their proper place, and wait behind the front desk for Mikasa to enter. Punctuality is important, and you’d be highly embarrassed if you weren’t there to greet your client right away.

The door quietly swings open five minutes later to reveal a familiar dark-haired woman.

“Good evening, Miss Ackerman!” you brightly greet as she shuffles in through the doorway. You notice how her kid isn’t accompanying her today, which surprises you. Then again, it is late into the evening, and by now, childcare is closed for the day, so you guess it’s logical that she wouldn’t bring her.

“Good evening,” Mikasa replies. The corners of her eyes crease as she gives you a light smile. A rolled-up yoga mat hangs over the top of her shoulder, so you have a clue of what she wants out of tonight’s training session. You ask just to make sure.

“Is it possible for us to focus on stretching properly and practice some yoga?” Mikasa questions as you come around the side of the front desk to lead her to the room you’ll be using tonight.

You glance over your shoulder to shoot her an assuring smile. “Of course, Miss Ackerman. Whatever you would like for us to focus on, we can do.”

You guide her toward the back of the gym, away from the main facility, until you reach your destination. She quietly thanks you as you hold the door open to the empty training room for her. You enter after her, making sure to close the door all the way so the two of you won’t be disturbed. Although, you’re sure that nobody will come and bother you: the gym tends to be pretty dead around this time.

The space you’re using tonight isn’t as large as the ones that are typically used for cycling or Zumba classes, but it's a good size for a private training session. And besides, it has everything that you anticipate you'll be needing for the evening. On the far end of the room lies neat rows of dumbbells of varying weights as well as a medium-sized stack of extra mats. The hardwood floors are clean and shiny, freshly mopped from the night before. Floor-to-ceiling windows, which are tinted so darkly that you can only see through them if you're squinting real hard, that face the rest of the gym's interior make up one side of the room. Opposite the windows is a wall covered with large mirrors of which the edges seamlessly blend into one another.

"Let's get started, shall we?" 

Mikasa swings her yoga mat off her shoulder and unfurls it in an area closer to the mirrors than the tinted windows. As she does so, you give her a quick once over. The woman is dressed in a pair of black leggings that hug her ass, which is nothing out of the ordinary, and a lightweight windbreaker. When Mikasa unzips the front of her jacket to set it aside, you realize that instead of pairing her bottoms with a tank-top, like she usually does, she's chosen to wear a tiny sports bra.

Holy fuck. Tiny isn't a good enough descriptor of the bra, it's positively minuscule. Mikasa's breasts look like they could spill out of their restraints at any given moment. 

When Mikasa turns her attention to you after setting her windbreaker to the side, you're quick to look away from her chest. You internally pray that your client did not catch you checking her out.

You guide her through some easy warm-up stretches to get her limbs nice and loose before diving into the main portion of the session. You start her off with some of the more basic yoga poses with the plan to build her up to the more difficult ones by the end of the lesson.

"Great form, Miss Ackerman," you praise. You kneel beside the mat and gently press your hand into the small of her back, prompting her to dip a little bit lower. “Just make sure to keep breathing when you hold this pose so you don’t tense up too much.”

You scan her over to make sure that her form does indeed look good. Your throat bobs slightly and your eyes linger for a little too long on the curve of her ass. The black leggings Mikasa wears do nothing but accentuate how nice of a rear she has. You swear that she pushes her lower half into the air a little more, but you must be imagining things.

“Mikasa.”

“Pardon me?” you question. Through the mirror, you make eye contact with the woman. Her long bangs partially obscure her face, but you can make out a light flush coating her cheeks. You can’t tell if it’s from embarrassment or exertion.

“You can call me, Mikasa,” she clarifies.

Oh. You have a fair share of clients who prefer the use of their given name, but somehow, this feels more personal, more intimate. Maybe, it’s because the gym is quiet and you’re the only two in the room. Or maybe it’s because you have a raging attraction to the woman before you.

“Okay, Mikasa, let’s transition into the next pose.”

Her name easily glides off of your tongue, and she ducks her head a little lower when you say it. You’re positive she’s embarrassed or flustered given how the redness that’s coloring her skin deepens. It’s unfair for an individual to be so fucking cute and hot at the same time.

You push yourself up from sitting back on your haunches beside the mat and move behind Mikasa. Your knees sink into her yoga mat and brush against her calves as you place your hands on the waistband of her leggings, fingers barely grazing the edge of it.

“Lean down a little bit more,” you instruct, guiding her into the pose you have in mind. You’re startled when Mikasa’s ass grazes the front of your pants. You clear your throat, convincing yourself that the action must have been an accident. You shimmy a little further back to maintain professionalism and pick up where you left off in your instructions.

It’s only when Mikasa does it a second time, a little more forceful, that you realize the action was definitely purposeful and not an accident.

You wrestle with your conscience for a moment. Is it right of you to make an advance on a client? Probably not. Are you going to do so anyway? Absolutely.

“Mikasa.” The woman on the mat stills at the sound of her name rolling off your tongue. You squeeze her hips lightly, moving your hands a little bit higher until they fully rest on her bare skin. Warmth radiates off of her form, and you can feel the damp perspiration that coats her skin. You lean over her, pressing your chest to her back, to whisper into her ear.

“Am I misinterpreting?” Your voice trails off as you begin to run your hands up and down her sides. Mikasa’s ass is still pressed firmly to the front of your trouser as you wait for a response. You observe her through the mirror, watching as her eyes flutter shut behind the curtain of her bangs.

She releases a deep exhale. “N-no,” she quietly stutters.

You resist the urge to shudder at Mikasa’s confirmation that you haven’t misunderstood her actions. You cannot believe that the hot milf you’ve been lusting after for who knows how long is attracted to you. Sasha’s going to lose her fucking mind when you tell her.

You quickly shake that thought away. You can think about that later.

“Sit up for me,” you direct, recovering from the newfound knowledge that Mikasa Ackerman is into you.

She’s quick to heed your command, moving into a sitting position where her knees are jutting forward and her feet are pointing backward in the direction of the tinted windows that face the rest of the gym. The curve of her ass barely brushes against the tops of your kneecaps.

“Good girl.”

Mikasa’s cheeks color at the praise. She lowers her chin once more to allow her long bangs to conceal her flustered state.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you tut. You place a hand beneath Mikasa’s chin. Your palm rests on the column of her throat, and you can feel her harshly swallow when you tilt her head up to make her look at herself through the mirror. “Don’t hide now, Mikasa. I want to see you.”

Peering into the mirror, you take in Mikasa’s appearance. Her wispy baby hairs are plastered to her forehead, and her dark eyes peek through the gaps of her grown-out bangs. Perspiration clings to the entirety of her ivory skin and stains the sports bra she's donned for the occasion a shade darker. You haven’t even done anything and Mikasa already looks debauched.

You readjust your position into a more comfortable one, slipping your bent knees into the open space beneath Mikasa’s legs. A startled hmph sound falls from Mikasa’s lips as you tug her back by the hips until she’s fully seated in your lap. Her hands fly to your wrists to brace herself as her ass firmly brushes against your crotch.

“That’s much better,” you coo, keeping your gaze trained on her figure through the mirror. Mesmerized, you follow with your eyes a bead of sweat that trails from Mikasa’s forehead down and down until it disappears into the valley between her breasts. When your eyes flicker up to her face, she’s already looking at you.

“Tell me what you want, Mikasa.” Your lips brush against the shell of her ear as you maintain steady eye contact with her through the mirror. She shivers beneath your touch.

“Touch me,” she manages to say after a lapse of silence. “Please,” she tacks on.

Such a good girl, you think, commending her manners.

“Like this?” you question between the short, steady kisses you press to the side of Mikasa's neck. You feel Mikasa take a sharp intake of breath when you place your hand on her scantily-clad breast and begin to lightly grope the clothed mound of flesh.  

"Y-yes," she breathily says, eyes fluttering shut as you feel her up. A silent gasp falls from her pretty lips when you pull the sweat-damp sports bra over her chest, freeing her tits from their confines. Suddenly exposed to the cool air, Mikasa's nipples peak, hardening further when you tweak them with your deft and skilled fingers.

“Open your eyes, Mikasa. I want you to look at yourself.”

It’s difficult for Mikasa to comprehend your demand amidst the pleasure you’re bestowing upon her. Her thoughts are all muddied, clouded with nothing but how good you’re making her feel. However, her eyes fly open when you pause from your gentle groping of her breasts and tugging of her nipples to harshly pinch one of the sensitive buds.

“Good girl,” you murmur once again when her dark eyes land on her reflection. Through the mirror, Mikasa watches with lidded eyes as one of your hands move from her breast to descend lower and lower down her body until your hand rests over her crotch, your fingers splaying wide apart to cover the entirety of her clothed cunt.

Your brows rise in slight surprise before you quickly regain your composure.

“You’re this turned on, Mikasa? Dripping wet from just me touching your tits a bit?” you tease, pressing your fingers deeper between her folds. Even though her leggings act as a barrier, you can tell just how aroused she is, given the fact she’s soaked through her leggings.

She moans as you slide your fingers back and forth along the seam of her tight workout pants, collecting more and more slick onto them and dampening her leggings further.

“Answer me,” you say after you receive no verbal response besides sounds of her pleasure.

“Yes,” she bashfully replies, dropping her head once more. Her face burns from your lewd words directed at her.

The hand that was groping her breast moves to the underside of her jaw. Firmly but not roughly, you grab the bottom of her face, forcing her chin up.

“If you look away from the mirror again, I’ll leave you high and dry,” you lowly threaten into her ear. It’s an empty threat, but you relish how she shudders underneath your touch and jerkily nods in understanding. You run your nose along the side of her neck before planting a soft kiss on her skin right beneath her ear. “Now be a good girl and watch as I make you cum.” 

Your fingers move up along the seam of Mikasa’s leggings until you reach the area that has her moaning so loud you worry that someone might overhear your illicit activities. Never ceasing the circles you rub over her clit, you tap the fingers of your opposite hand against the plush of Mikasa’s bottom lip. Her pretty pink lips are already parted, drawn into a slightly open o. She grants you easy access, allowing you to stick your fingers into her mouth to quiet her down.

You groan into her skin when she immediately wraps her lips around your fingers and sucks. Her tongue runs over all the edges and joints of your fingers, dipping deep between them as well to thoroughly coat them in her spit.

“Fuck,” you curse, aroused more than ever by the erotic display. You quicken the pace of your fingers, rubbing her clit harder through her leggings, intent on seeing how pretty Mikasa looks when she cums. She nearly buckles over from the intensity, only managing to stay upright with your hold around her.

As if hypnotized, you watch as Mikasa grows more and more shameless the closer she approaches her release. Your fingers continue to rub her clit as she essentially rides your hand, grinding her hips down onto the heel of your palm.

Although her eyes flutter, Mikasa follows your directions and doesn’t allow her gaze to stray far from her reflection. Mikasa’s unable to control the way her hips buck into your hand. If she were more aware of the muffled moans and mewls coming from her or the squelching of her dripping cunt against your fingers, she would be mortified, even ashamed. But the only thing on Mikasa’s mind at this point is the need to cum.

And she does. With a garbled cry and a rock of her hips, Mikasa comes underneath your touch. You watch intently, willing yourself not to blink in order to not miss even a single moment of how fucking pretty Mikasa Ackerman is when she cums.

As she recovers her breath, you hope that Mikasa will book more private sessions with you in the future.

#attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan smut #aot smut #mikasa x reader #mikasa ackerman x reader #mikasa smut #mikasa ackerman smut #attack on titan thirst #aot thirst #mikasa thirst #mikasa ackerman thirst #sub attack on titan #sub aot #sub mikasa ackerman #holy.hymns #sin too much #saint.mikasa ackerman #shrine.attack on titan #tw age gap. #tw dom reader

[saintodo]

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐓 (𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊)

SYNOPSIS. you dislike kamo noritoshi. greatly. but you can’t rest until you know what it takes to make him crumble.

NOTE. this is my first time writing a fic for noritoshi so im very sorry if i didn’t capture his character completely. also im tagging vic because they were talking about noritoshi the other day  @saintdabi <3

PAIRING. kamo noritoshi x gender neutral reader

WORD COUNT. 3.9k

WARNINGS. dom reader, sub kamo, explicit content, hate sex (but not really. it’s closer to dislike sex), semi-public sex, handjobs, hair-pulling, teasing (reader is a tease)

You don’t like Kamo Noritoshi. He rubs you in all of the wrong ways like the insufferable itch of wearing a heavy wool sweater on a hot summer’s day. Just because he’s the heir to (and soon to be head of) the Kamo clan, he acts all high and mighty, like he’s oh so much better than everyone else. The way he looks down on you is annoying, but the way he turns his nose up at your friends is infuriating. You can tolerate people’s bullshit directed at you to a certain extent, but never at your friends. After all these years, you still haven’t forgiven him for his treatment of your best friend Maki. The guy seriously needs to loosen up: it’s like he has a perpetual stick stuck up his ass.

Although you may not like Kamo Noritoshi in the slightest, you must admit that he’s definitely easy on the eyes. Maki makes a disgusted face when you share your observation, but you shrug her off. What can you say? He’s a pretty boy, and you are all too weak for beautiful men.

He also piques your curiosity. Noritoshi is a stoic man. You don’t think you’ve ever seen even a ghost of a smile cross his face before. He’s always so calm and collected that you can’t help but wonder what it would take for him to lose his composure completely. The thought lingers in the back of your mind, festering like a sore, and draws to the surface whenever you happen to encounter the sorcerer. You know that your curiosity will continue to plague you until you find out the answer to your question.

Your plan to once and for all quell your curiosity takes time and necessitates patience. If you try to proposition Noritoshi out of nowhere, you’re pretty damn sure he’ll shoot you down right away and your ego could not handle getting rejected by Kamo Noritoshi of all people. Maki would certainly get a kick out of that. Toge, too.

So, you approach the situation delicately, or as delicately as you can. Whenever you’re paired for missions, you try to initiate casual conversations with him. You were vaguely aware of the fact that Noritoshi was a shitty conversationalist beforehand, but man does it become glaringly obvious to you when you make an active attempt to talk to him. He’s curt in his responses when speaking as if he’d rather not waste his breath on you. The topic of your shared conversations (when he indulges your attempts) is always surface-level ranging from the weather or the mission you’ve been assigned but not veering far past that.

Your eye twitches when he makes one or two off-handed remarks about you, but ultimately you’re able to brush it off. Noritoshi says the same old shit all of the time. You’ve grown used to his comments.

You lightly flirt with him, dropping a few hints here and there that you’re interested in him, but either Noritoshi has positively no interest in you or he’s dumb as bricks because he’s visibly receptive to nothing you say. For the sake of your pride, you lean towards the latter option.

You begin to think that your plan of bedding Noritoshi is going to take a lot more time than you originally anticipated. That is until you catch wind of a clan gathering occurring in the nearby future.

You alarm your friends when you suddenly sit up straight from your lazy lounging position on the couch.

“That’s it,” you exclaim, interjecting yourself into their conversation of the upcoming clan gathering. A lightbulb in your brain goes off. You turn your attention to Toge who’s lying on his stomach on the floor of the living room beside Panda. “Toge, please let me be your plus one to the gathering.”

He tilts his head in a confused manner, unsure of your sudden interest in the topic when you're typically very vocal in your disdain for anything relating to clan stuff. He nods though, happy for the company.

Maki groans from her place on the opposite end of the couch. She props her head up with an arm and casts a glance your way. “You really want to get into Kamo’s pants that bad?”

Yuuta’s face goes red at Maki’s brazen choice of words while a look of understanding crosses Toge’s face. Panda just lies on the ground quietly, eyes closed in contentment from the tummy scratches he’s receiving from Toge.

You shrug and shoot her a suggestive smile. “Honestly, yeah.”

Yuuta sputters, burying his face into his palms to conceal the redness heating up his cheeks. The revulsion on Maki’s face is clear as day. You laugh, enjoying their respective reactions, before moving on to discuss the finer details of the gathering with Toge: the what, the when, the where. For the first time ever, you’re genuinely looking forward to a clan event.

-

Right off the bat, the party (if it could even be considered a party) is awful. It’s no wonder that Toge hates coming to these things and tries to weasel his way out of them as much as possible.

The vast majority of the people in attendance belong to esteemed jujutsu families. They’re wildly boring, only discussing topics that pertain to their clans and boasting about their achievements and whatnot. You make polite conversation with some acquaintances you’ve made through group missions and grit your teeth, biting back harsh words, when the older clan members make their distaste for you, a non-clan member, apparent.

Dressed in the formal clothes that you specifically purchased for this, you feel slightly uncomfortable, out of place. As someone who wasn’t born in the world of sorcery, you’ve struggled to overcome your insecurities of being an outsider. You’re nowhere near the same person you were when you were originally thrown into your role as a sorcerer. You’ve grown into a person who no longer doubts themselves at every move, but surrounded by the upper echelon of sorcerers who continue to look down upon you, old insecurities bubble up beneath the surface, whispering that you will never belong.

A soft squeeze to your arm startles you out of your spiraling thoughts. Turning your head to the side, you’re met with the sight of worry swimming in Toge’s warm brown eyes. His expression reads of the question “Are you alright?”

The corner of your lip quirks into a small genuine smile at the show of concern. You tighten your interlocked arms. “I’m good, Toge,” you assure, leaning a little more against him, “Just got lost in my thoughts.”

Toge looks like he doesn’t quite believe you but he doesn’t push you to talk about it. If you want to talk about what’s on your mind, he’s there to listen but he won’t force you. Although Toge’s not totally reassured by your vague answer, you really do feel alright now. 

You may never belong to a clan but that does not mean you do not belong in the world of sorcery. Your place is among your friends, the people you love the most. You nearly forgot that in your moment of insecurity. 

You shake your head slightly, expelling the rest of your negative thoughts. You take a deep breath to regain your lost composure and to calm your mind. A small smile rests on your lips as you recall the reason you came to this shitty party in the first place.

“You see Kamo anywhere, Toge?” you whisper close to his ear, making sure that others cannot overhear your conversation. Your eyes flit over the crowd of people milling around in the large, open indoor space in search of a familiar head of dark hair. Toge surveys the group as well.

He lightly bumps your shoulder, drawing your attention. Discreetly, Toge motions his head toward the left side of the room. Your eyes follow the direction until they land on Kamo Noritoshi, who’s calmly speaking to what looks like a member of the Inumaki clan. 

“What do you say we go and mingle?” you say, wiggling your brows at Toge. His eyes crinkle in amusement, and he nods. Toge lets you drag him by the arm, weaving through the crowd of people, off to where Noritoshi is standing.

“Kamo, what a surprise to see you here,” you say, feigning shock when you approach Noritoshi. You release your hold on Toge’s arm, allowing him to engage in light convo with his fellow clan member.

Noritoshi bows his head slightly in greeting. Out of politeness, you bow as well. Even if you don’t care for clan politics, you know better than to be blatantly disrespectful at an event like this.

When you lift your head, you take the opportunity to check him out, not bothering to be subtle about how your eyes rove over his form. The shozoku Noritoshi dons for the occasion today is an inky black, contrasting greatly with the paleness of his skin. You would think he would have grown sick of wearing the same thing since he attended Jujutsu High, but you guess not. It suits him though. You can’t really imagine Noritoshi wearing modern casual clothes.

“As the heir to the Kamo family, it is only natural that I would be in attendance for this gathering.”

Internally, you roll your eyes. Of course, he had to bring up that he’s the heir to his clan for the nth time. “I suppose you’re right,” you slowly say. You take in Noritoshi’s appearance once more. He looks every part of the heir to his family: stiff, regal, and oh so pretty.

You bring up your pointer finger as if you’ve had an aha moment. “Ah, Kamo I just remembered. There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. Do you mind if we move to a more private area to discuss the matter?” you innocently ask, tilting your head to the side in question.

The mindless chatter of groups of people surrounding you fills the lull in conversation that falls upon you. Noritoshi’s eyes narrow slightly before he stiffly nods. “Lead the way.”

You beam, pleased that Noritoshi agreed. Not that you thought he would turn you down, but there’s always a possibility. You catch Toge’s eyes as you walk away and a look of understanding is communicated between you. You give him a sly wink that goes unnoticed by the man following you, and Toge stifles a laugh. You quickly look away before either of you draws more attention than necessary to yourselves.

Noritoshi trails you at a respectable distance as you lead the two of you into a secluded hallway in the overly grand building. The area is far enough that you’re away from the main bustle of the gathering but close enough that you can still hear distant talking. 

“What is it that you wanted to discuss?” Noritoshi asks when you turn around to face him. The sorcerer stands still in the middle of the hallway, staring at you. The lighting that hangs overhead casts shadows onto his frame, accentuating the sharp angles of his stoic face. You admire how handsome Noritoshi looks before responding.

“Ah, that,” you say as if you had forgotten why you had dragged Noritoshi away from the party. You take a step closer to him. “Hm, well I think you’re smart enough to figure that out Kamo,” you trail off, taking another step closer to him, close enough that you’re now invading his personal space. Noritoshi makes no move to back away, however. He goes deathly still and you hear his breath hitch when you place a hand on his chest and lean in to whisper into his ear: “So you tell me what you think I wanted to discuss.”

“I was under the impression you hated me." 

You snort, unable to help yourself. Noritoshi's calm demeanor he’s donning is nothing but a facade. You can feel his heart speed up beneath your touch, thumping loudly in his chest. A small smile plays on your lips. It’s nice to know that you have that effect, or any effect, on him.

“There’s a fine line between love and hate, but in this case, it’s more so lust and hate,” you casually say. You move your hands to twine behind his neck, wrinkling his shozoku in the process. 

"This is highly unprofessional." Noritoshi stands with his back painfully straight, still as rigid as a rock. You roll your eyes. Man, does he need to loosen up. You contemplate whether or not you should continue your pursuit of him. Are you pushing the boundaries too far? Mm, well he hasn’t pulled away from you yet so you take that as a good sign. Besides, if Noritoshi didn’t want this or wasn’t at least interested, he’d throw you off of him.

"C'mon, Kamo. You're so tense all the time, let me help you relax just this once," you coax. You drag the blunt edge of your nails over the back of his neck, causing tiny goosebumps to rise in your wake.

You watch as Noritoshi’s inner conflict breaches the surface and displays itself on his face. You can tell he’s overthinking way too much. It’s not like you’re asking him to marry you or anything. His eyes flicker to your lips and dilate the slightest bit before quickly meeting your gaze.

“Fine,” he nods. 

A Cheshire-like grin stretches across your cheeks. Wow. That took a lot less convincing than you anticipated.

With his assent, you quickly close the small space separating you and press your lips to Noritoshi’s. You swallow the startled noise that forms in the back of his throat as you back him up against the nearest wall. 

His lips are surprisingly soft. You don’t know why that surprises you so much considering Noritoshi takes good care of himself. Of course, he’d have lips soft enough to inspire jealousy.

What you’re not shocked by is the fact that Noritoshi is clearly inexperienced. The dark-haired male is taken aback by the sudden kiss you spring upon him. His posture is rigid, unfaltering even when his back hits the wall, and his lips stay tightly shut. His hands remain by his sides, but you can feel them hovering over your hips, unsure of what to do with them. It’s obvious that he has no clue what he’s doing.

You wonder if you’re his first kiss. 

“Relax,” you murmur, detaching your lips from his. Your exhales intermingle in the space between you. You comfortingly scratch at the back of his head, dragging your fingers through the dark strands of his neatly styled hair. “This is supposed to be fun.”

The tension slowly but surely melts from Noritoshi’s shoulders as you continue to soothingly run your fingers through his hair. You smile when he subconsciously leans into your touch like a cat searching for head-pats. Cute.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, Kamo,” you reassure him. 

The sound of your voice jolts Noritoshi out of his reverie. His eyes widen as if the situation he found himself in had slipped his mind. He straightens up a little and clears his throat. 

“I want to,” he quietly admits, uncharacteristically bashful. He turns his face to the side, showcasing the flush that’s blooming across his cheeks. He averts his gaze to the ground. “And please, call me Noritoshi.”

You can’t help the smile that graces your lips and the giddy feeling that fills your stomach. 

“Okay, Noritoshi.” You revel in the shiver that Noritoshi does his best to suppress. “Just follow my lead, okay?” You place your hand beneath his chin, gently making him look at you. His pupils dilate, nearly engulfing the dark hue of his irises. Warmth rushes south in your body when he obediently nods. Fuck, who would have thought Noritoshi was a good boy?

You smile before you press your lips to his again. You lick along the seam of his mouth. Hesitantly, he parts his lips at your insistence, granting you access to the inside of his mouth. Noritoshi tastes pleasant: sweet and earthy like the strong, lingering aftertaste of black tea. The kiss is clumsy but not bad. Noritoshi lets you explore the inside of his mouth with your tongue before he tentatively begins to move his as well.

Humming into the kiss, you grab his floundering hands with your own and guide them to rest on the curve of your waist. Instantly, Noritoshi bunches up the material in his fists. 

When the need to breathe eventually proves to be too much, you pull away from Noritoshi. At least you attempt to. He tries to chase after your lips until you harshly tug at the roots of his hair, keeping him at bay. A breathy whimper escapes Noritoshi. You each exchange startled glances. No fucking way.

You tug at his hair again, not as rough, but it elicits the same response.

“What a dirty boy you are, Noritoshi. I would have never thought you like getting your hair pulled,” you tease. Noritoshi’s face goes crimson.

“I do not,” he vehemently denies. Noritoshi shakes his head for extra emphasis, swinging the two strands of bandage-wrapped hair that frame his face. You reach and twirl your finger around one of the strands.

“Is that so?” you question, twiddling the strand of hair between your fingers. Your lower lip juts into a seemingly innocent pout, but the glimmer in your eyes puts Noritoshi’s nerves on edge. 

Abruptly, you give his hair a firm yank. Painful pinpricks immediately spread across Noritoshi’s scalp, and an unwelcome moan slips past his sealed lips.

“Looks like you’re a liar,” you say in a sing-songy manner.

“Just get on with it,” Noritoshi sputters. His hands on your hips tighten and pull you closer to him. You raise a brow and the corner of your lips quirks into a knowing smile when the front of your body presses against Noritoshi’s clothed hard-on.

“Oh, do you need some help with this?” You punctuate the end of your rhetorical question by cupping Noritoshi’s bulge through the layers of clothing he’s dressed in. He takes a sharp inhale when you lightly squeeze his erection. You tilt your head slightly, faking innocence. You gasp a little before pouting at Noritoshi. “Are you really that turned on from a little kissing?”

Amusement slips into your question towards the end despite your best attempts to restrain it. Truly, you can’t help yourself. It’s too easy to tease Noritoshi, and who knows when you’ll ever get the chance to do so again.

“No, I am no—ahh.” A moan cuts off Noritoshi’s attempt to deny you once more. You’ve managed to slip your arm beneath his clothing and wrap a hand around his hard length. His cock twitches in your hold, and Noritoshi hisses when you trace over his slit with your thumb, collecting the precum gathered there with the pad of your finger.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

Painfully slow, you start to work your hand up and down Noritoshi’s shaft. You bring your other hand to the back of Noritoshi’s head, burying your fingers into the strands of his black hair, and firmly tug until your lips brush against the outer shell of his ear. The choked noise of pleasure he releases sends heat rushing to pool in your lower stomach. “I’d suggest you quiet down unless you want to be caught.”

Instinctively, Noritoshi jerks his hips at the thought of being caught like this. It would be horrific to be seen in such a compromising situation. Noritoshi has never indulged in something so primal before. He’s never gone against the expectations laid out for him by his clan’s elders. He cannot imagine the wrath he’d incur if he were to be caught and the rumors that would abound in the sorcery community. He’d surely be made a mockery of.

Noritoshi places a hand over his mouth to muffle his moans and whimpers. Now that Noritoshi’s pleasured noises aren’t quite so loud, the sound of your hand dragging over his cock feels like it’s amplified. The deserted hallway you’re occupying echoes with the distinct sound of wet skin against skin. Anyone who happened to stumble by would without a doubt know what the two of you were up to.

“You’re awfully cute when your mouth is shut,” you muse, taking in Noritoshi’s rumpled appearance. His carefully styled hair is in complete disarray and his neat clothing is now untucked and wrinkled. It looks like he’s been subjected to a whirlwind.

You lean in close to peck the back of Noritoshi’s hand that’s enclosed over his mouth. His face goes red, and you can tell from his expression that there’s a retort on the tip of his tongue.

Too bad for him because you choose this exact moment to quicken your pace. Noritoshi nearly buckles under the pressure but you ensure that he stays up right.

“Imagine if someone saw you like this,” you murmur. Your eyes stay transfixed on Noritoshi’s expression. His hand over his mouth nearly goes white from how hard he’s attempting to suppress his noises. Despite his efforts, little moans make their way past. “The heir to the Kamo clan crumbling at the hands of a nobody.”

You loop a hand around Noritoshi’s wrist, removing his hand from his mouth and replacing it with your lips. Noritoshi eagerly reciprocates the kiss, and you greedily swallow down each and every noise he makes. You allow him to break the kiss and bury his face into your neck when you work him up to the precipice of his orgasm.

He spills into your palm with a muffled cry. His hips continuously jerk as he rides his orgasm out. You drag out his pleasure for as long as you can until he begs you for a reprieve.

As Noritoshi regains his breath, you carefully slip your dirtied hand out of his bottoms. Making direct eye contact with the sorcerer, you lick his cum straight off of your palm. The mix of saltiness and bitterness that lies on your tongue afterward is worth the priceless expression Noritoshi makes in response.

“Do you have no shame?” he says, face pulling into a light grimace.

You smile and shrug a little. “Nope.”

You pat your hand clean on your pants, internally hoping that they won’t stain. When you look up at Noritoshi again, he’s fiddling with his clothes, attempting to straighten them out. Feeling your eyes on him, he meets your gaze.

“Well, I’ll see you around, Noritoshi.” You give him a light peck on the cheek before turning to make your way down the hallway. You glance over your shoulder at him to witness the rosiness that’s risen to his cheeks. Cute.

“If you ever want to do that again, get my number from Miwa.”

With that last comment, you begin to make your way down the secluded hallway to rejoin the gathering. As you walk, you think about the event that’s just transpired. Kamo Noritoshi is a lot more interesting than you would have ever expected. Now that you’ve gotten a taste of him, you wonder what else there is to the man.

The call of your last name has you turning around. 

Noritoshi flattens his hands over the front of his shozoku, smoothing out the deep wrinkles that’s formed in his clothing.

“I’ll reach out to you,” he says with a shallow nod of his head. You don’t say anything in response, but you give him a wave in acknowledgment over your shoulder as you head out of the hall. Unseen by Noritoshi, a smile that burns your cheeks stretches across your face.

Looks like you’ll find out soon enough.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk thirst #jujutsu kaisen thirst #kamo noritoshi x reader #kamo noritoshi smut #noritoshi x reader #noritoshi smut #sub jujutsu kaisen #sub jjk #sub kamo noritoshi #sub noritoshi #holy.hymns #sin too much #shrine.jujutsu kaisen #saint.kamo noritoshi #tw dom reader

[saintodo]

𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

NOTE. just a lil something hehe <3

PAIRING. connie springer x gender neutral reader (featuring. sasha braus and jean kirstein at the end)

WORD COUNT. 1.9k

WARNINGS. modern au, college au, drug use (specifically weed in the form of edibles), best friends who fuck sometimes dynamic, connie and reader both get high, making out, grinding, cumming in pants, nobody is straight, uh you, sasha, jean, and connie all got something going on

The edible sets in faster than you expected.

“Oh, fuck,” you giggle to yourself at the sensation that begins to wash over you like a gentle wave. You shift your weight, leaning back onto the palms of your hands and threading your fingers through the long tufts of the shaggy rug that decorates the floor of the living room you’re hanging out in. Absentmindedly, you tug on the woven strands and tilt your head back. Your gaze mindlessly wanders over the surface of the ceiling, lazily tracing all of its bumps and imperfections with your unfocused eyes.

“What?”

At the sound of another’s voice, you slowly rotate your neck in their direction, letting gravity take its course, and drop your head until your ear touches your shoulder. You giggle again. The befuddled expression on Connie’s face is just too amusing to you. But then again, a lot of things are funny to you when you’re like this.

“I’m high,” you drawl. A wide, goofy smile forms on your lips as you speak. Connie matches your expression, a grin that showcases all of his pretty white teeth stretching across his cheeks by the time you finish your statement. 

Connie lowers his phone, pressing his palm against the curve of the couch’s bottom cushion, and leans closer to you like he has a secret that only you can be privy to.

For a moment, all that can be heard is the sitcom that plays at a low volume on the tv in the room and the soft, relaxed exhales escaping from you and Connie. 

Connie’s expression morphs into a serious one. His brows bunch up together, and he narrows his eyes. The flecks of green in his brown irises glow beneath the roaming lights of the star projector set up in the corner of the room. He draws his lips into a tight line before slowly parting them. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and in a low, even voice, Connie says, “Me, too.”

It’s like Connie has just said the most amusing thing ever because the both of you quickly dissolve into a fit of laughter. Giggles continuously trickle from your lips like a stream, and you bring your hand to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle the noise. Meanwhile, barking laughter escapes Connie, who doubles over the edge of the couch, his shoulders shaking as he clutches at his stomach.

It takes a while for both of you to overcome your bout of laughter. By the time you settle down once more, there is a lingering ache in your ribs. 

When your wandering gaze lands on Connie again, you’re not surprised to find him already looking at you. He’s leant back against the sofa, looking every bit as relaxed as you feel.

It’s nice. College’s been kicking Connie’s (and your) ass lately, so it’s nice to just stop worrying about assignments that seem never-ending and exams that are stressful as shit and just hang out and relax in the company of one of your closest friends.

Connie’s eyes are lidded, hiding the majority of his pretty hazel eyes from your view. It makes you pout, unconsciously. You like looking at Connie’s eyes. He snorts softly, the sound barely audible over the buzz of the television, and you watch as a lazy smile begins to play on his lips.

“C’mere,” he says, beckoning you closer by gently patting one of his thighs.

Clumsily, with all the grace of a newborn fawn just learning how to use its legs for the first time, you move from your sitting position on the floor and stand up onto wobbly feet. A grunt automatically escapes from Connie when you drop yourself onto his lap with no preamble.

“Warn a guy before you do that, will you?” Connie says, voice strained. You choose to ignore him, maneuvering around in his lap- in search of a comfortable position. Connie wraps an arm around your middle, knocking you off-kilter as he tugs you closer until your chest is flush with his. “I’m gonna get hard if you keep on squirming,” he whines, leaning his head against your collarbones. His breath washing over your delicate skin makes your hairs stand up on end.

You giggle at Connie’s dramatics and run a hand through his buzzcut. “Oh, I am so sorry, Connie. We wouldn’t want that, would we?” you say, faux sympathy dripping from your every word.

“Shit,” Connie hisses when you wiggle a little more, purposely dragging yourself over his dick, which begins to stir to life beneath you. His hand around your waist tightens, fingers pressing into the material of your top. “Fuck, you’re making me horny.”

Playfully, you roll your eyes at Connie as you rock your hips, again. You can feel his dick hardening, the outline of his cock becoming more prominent. “Weed always makes you horny, Connie,” you quip. You twine your arms together behind his neck, looking at him through your heavy eyelashes and jutting your bottom lip out.

Connie’s hands skirt beneath the bottom hem of your top, his fingers brushing against your warm, bare skin as he spreads them apart.

“Yeah, but you, also, always make me horny, so it’s like double the amount of horniness I’m experiencing right now,” Connie slowly says, his eyes brightening by the end of his sentence like he just said something wildly intelligent.

“You’re stupid,” you laugh, airy and affectionate. The sound brings a dumb grin to Connie’s face.

He tugs you even closer to him, forcing you to brace yourself by placing your palms on his chest, which is firm- surprising considering you don’t think you’ve ever seen Connie work out. He stares up at you with a dazed look and a lopsided smile that makes the corners of your lips curl upward.

He tilts his chin up, and you angle your face until your lips just barely ghost over Connie’s. But you’re close enough now that you can feel the grin on Connie’s lips against your own.

“Yeah, stupidly turned on,” he murmurs before snaking a hand around the back of your neck and pulling you into a kiss. You’d like to retort that what Connie said was dumb as hell, but you find yourself too lost in the pleasant feeling of his lips moving against yours.

The kiss is lazy and messy, an exchange of long and languid open-mouthed lip-locking, resulting in spit that slowly dribbles down both of your chins. Although you made fun of Connie for it, he’s not the only one who gets horny as hell when they’re high. That’s why your relationship with Connie works. Well, that’s not the only reason your friendship works, but it’s a nice perk that’s turned out to be mutually beneficial.

Connie’s hand around the back of your neck suddenly tightens, fingers pressing deeper into your sensitive skin. A groan escapes him, filling the little space between your lips when you rock your hips- slow and sensual and right up against his dick. All of the blood in his body flows southbound, leaving him light-headed as his cock begins to harden fully beneath your weight.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Connie exhales, detaching himself from your lips and tossing his head back onto the sofa. His pretty hazel eyes flutter closed, and his lips, slick with spit, part in pleasure as you continue to grind down onto Connie’s clothed cock.

Your thoughts go hazy- all you can focus on is how good Connie looks right now and how good he’s making you feel. Arousal pools in the space between you- your undergarments are damp with your juices, and Connie’s shorts have a wet patch on the front that’s increasing in size with each rock of your hips.

“Connie,” you whine, bracing yourself by placing your hands on either side of Connie’s head. You toss your head back, baring your neck as the warmth in your lower stomach steadily builds. An abrupt moan tears its way out of you when you suddenly feel the warm and wet presses of Connie’s mouth against your throat. His hands glide up under your shirt, attempting to touch as much of your bare skin as possible.

He plants his feet onto the floor and raises his hips, meeting your downward movements halfway. The change in angle fans the flames lighting up in your lower stomach. 

You move your hands from the top of the couch’s back pillows to Connie’s shoulders- gripping at the material of his t-shirt with tight fists. Connie grabs at your back, kneading the skin there with his large palms as he sloppily sucks love-bites into your neck.

The combined stimulation of Connie mouthing at your throat and his cock sliding between the apex of your thighs is too much for you to handle. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tsunami wave, and you unconsciously move your hips in search of as much friction as possible as you ride your high out.

In your daze, you hear a strangled fuck breathed into the column of your neck- an indication that Connie has followed you off of the precipice of pleasure. You feel a sudden burst of wetness stain the clothing beneath you as Connie’s hips uncontrollably buck upward against you. 

After you both come down from your climaxes, harsh pants fill the air. You become more aware of the sticky dampness that now lies between your thighs and the buzz of the television show that neither of you turned off. Both of your chests heave from the strength of your orgasms as your lidded eyes meet.

You’re feeling nice and loose-limbed after cumming, your mind still hazy from the weed and your body relaxed from the orgasm. You can tell that Connie feels the same given the dumb expression on his face. You bask in the afterglow of your orgasm, affectionately rubbing your thumb against Connie’s cheek when the front door loudly slams against the wall, making you and Connie flinch.

You turn your head towards the now open door. Sasha stands there with an expression of disbelief, her arms full with a plethora of snacks and drinks, while Jean stands behind her, his face showcasing mild disgust.

“You guys started without us?”

“You fucked on the couch?”

Sasha and Jean say at the same time, making you lightly giggle while Connie laughs at your friends’ reactions. 

Sasha quickly bounds over to the couch, depositing her stash of snacks and drinks onto the coffee table, and slides onto the sofa beside you and Connie as Jean enters through the doorway, locking the door behind him. Sasha gives you a friendly kiss on the corner of your mouth before opening up one of the many bags of chips she brought with her and munching on the crisps.

Jean gives one long look at the couch before dropping down onto the floor.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Jean-Boy. It’s not like you and I have never fucked on the couch,” Connie lazily retorts. A light flush graces Jean’s cheeks as he drags a hand down his face. Why does he have to be friends with such idiots?

“Shut up,” Jean grumbles, which greatly amuses you. 

“Don’t be such a grump, Jean, you know that we’ve all fucked on the couch at one point or another,” you remind him, taking great pleasure in the way his ears go red. 

Honestly, that’s probably what will end up happening tonight, like many of your hangouts with your best friends.

#attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan smut #aot smut #connie x reader #connie springer x reader #connie smut #connie springer smut #aot thirsts #attack on titan thirsts #shrine.attack on titan #saint.connie springer #sin too much #holy.hymns #tw weed #tw drug use

[saintodo]

I think Oikawa cries during sex :) especially when he subs

thots: oikawa crying during sex

♡ note: oh g*d i am a SUCKER for pretty boys. also going to tag vic my beloved @saintdabi

♡ word count: 1k

♡ warnings: gn!reader, dom!reader, sub!oikawa, crying in a sexual situation, handjobs, edging

Oikawa is attractive. You’ve always known that. You’ve known ever since high school when you would sit with your group of friends near the fringes of the crowd and watch as hordes of people would not so subtly throw themselves at Oikawa on a near-daily basis. At the time, you never would have thought that someone at your school would be popular enough to have actual fans. Oikawa’s dedicated fan club definitely proved you wrong.

Although Oikawa was immensely popular amongst everyone, you didn’t think much of him during high school. The two of you were distant classmates, never operating within the same social circles at any point in time. Hell, you don’t think you ever even shared a class period with the brunet. You attended a few volleyball games at your friends’ insistence, but all in all, when you graduated high school, you didn’t spare many thoughts about the popular, attractive volleyball player afterward.

Maybe that’s why it was such a surprise to others that you and Oikawa ended up together. Your old high school friends were flabbergasted when you informed them of the news, wondering how the hell did you guys get together when the two of you never spoke a word to each other in high school. Easily, you can admit that it was a surprise to you too- never in a million years, would you have ever imagined a universe that you and Oikawa would be dating. 

But, you’re happy in your relationship. Really happy. As fucking cheesy as it sounds, something about Oikawa brings out the best in you. He makes you strive to be a better person every day, and you can’t help but thank your lucky stars that he’s yours just as much as you’re his.

He’s changed a lot from what you remember of your third year of high school, but one thing that’s never changed is the fact that Oikawa is, objectively, attractive. His years as a professional volleyball player have only done him well. His skin is tanned and sun-kissed from the many hours spent under the blazing Argentinian sun playing volleyball on the country’s beautiful beaches. All of the training he’s done for his sport has honed his athletic physique: strong and firm muscles cover every inch of his body. Despite that, Oikawa- at his core- is pretty.

Sure, your boyfriend is hot and handsome and cute and more, but he’s always been pretty to you. With brown, messy (but not so messy it could be considered unkept) windswept hair, warm brown eyes to match, and a smile that reveals rows of teeth that sparkle in the light, Oikawa could have easily been a model if he wasn’t a professional volleyball player. The occasional magazine covers he’s done for promotional purposes prove you correct.

Given how pretty Oikawa normally is, it makes perfect sense to you that he- of all people- would look pretty while crying.

It takes time to get to that point. Taking Oikawa apart is a tedious process. He doesn’t like to behave, always putting up some semblance of a fight for power until you make him submit to you. He makes you work for it every time. You find that you don’t mind his bratty behavior. It’s cute. You adore Oikawa and how he tries to fight you for dominance, even though you both know it’s all pretend and that in the end, he’ll submit. He always does.

Honestly, it’s unfair how pretty Oikawa looks when he cries. If you were a lesser person, you’d be jealous of him. Instead, you’re filled with warmth by the fact that you’re the only person who gets to see Oikawa like this. You’re the only person that gets to take Oikawa apart until he’s crying from pleasure. The trust and faith he has in you overwhelm you with affection specifically reserved for the man.

“More, more, more,” Oikawa slurs, pleading with you. His kiss-bitten, pouty lips warble as you work your hand over his cock: slow and steady like you’ve been doing for the past half hour or so. Oikawa tries to rut into your touch, but you push his hips down back to the mattress to keep him in place. He could probably overpower you if he really wanted to, but he’s so pliant- not moving more than he’s allowed to.

“More what, Tooru?” A furrow develops between your brows as you fake confusion. He nearly sobs when your hand on his cock slows down even more, almost coming to a complete stop, so you can hear his answer.

“I need it faster, please, please, please. Wanna cum.” Your breath hitches when Oikawa looks up at you. Shiny translucent tears paint his eyelashes dark as he softly pants. Redness colors his chest, which heaves up and down with every breath of his. The tears coating his eyelashes threaten to fall down his cheeks, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen a sight so beautiful.

You could tease Oikawa for a little longer if you wanted to, really draw it out for the stunt he pulled earlier today in public, but then he starts sniffling, oh so cutely, and you cave in. You’ve always been a sucker for him.

“Oh fuck. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Oikawa babbles as your hand around his shaft speeds up so fast that Oikawa’s hips jerk instinctively. His back arches off of your shared bed as he ruts his hips into your hold, fucking your fist to the fast-paced rhythm he’s set. His dick glides against your palm, filling the room with the distinctive wet sound of skin against skin. Oikawa cums with a loud cry- arching his back completely off the mattress- when you run your thumb over his sensitive slit, effectively pushing him over the edge. Fat tears stream down his reddened cheeks as you guide him through his orgasm. You reach out with your clean hand to wipe the stray droplets away before they can drip down his chin and lean in to press a loving kiss to his lips.

Yeah, you think, Oikawa really is a pretty crier.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #oikawa x reader #oikawa smut #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru smut #sub haikyuu #sin too much #holy.hymns #shrine.haikyuu #saint.oikawa tooru #saint.anonymous #around the hearth #tw dom reader

[saintodo]

thots: mikasa and face-sitting

♡ note: omg.....surprise......it’s me.....

♡ pairing: mikasa ackerman x gender neutral reader

♡ word count: 1.6k

♡ warnings: explicit content, college au, finger sucking, face-sitting, sub mikasa, dom reader 

You shut your door behind you, locking it with a click that sounds throughout the room. Your dorm room is quiet in comparison to the party you were just at. At times like these, you’re especially thankful that you were lucky enough to get a single room: there are no roommates you have to worry about barging in at any random time.

When you turn around to face the rest of your bedroom, your eyes immediately fall onto the pretty girl who’s shyly perched on the very edge of your bed, fiddling with the soft material of her black skirt.

As if she can feel the heat of your gaze on her, she looks up at you with wide, doe eyes.

“You know the drill, Mikasa.”

You lean back against your door, loosely folding your arms over your chest like you have all the time in the world, and tilt your chin up at her. You’re completely at ease: the perfect picture of relaxation.

Even in the low lighting of your bedroom, you can see the redness that blossoms across the apples of Mikasa’s pale cheeks. She swallows, rubbing the material of her skirt between her thumb and forefinger before nodding at you.

Gracefully, she stands up, and with two hands, she peels off her top in one fluid motion. She does the same with her skirt and then slides off her heavy platform boots, leaving her clothed in only a pair of cute ruffle socks and a dark, lacy matching set. 

Your eyes rove over her appraisingly. Mikasa is a beautiful mix of soft curves and strong, firm lines of muscles. You wonder if she even realizes how gorgeous she is. 

Well, you intend to show her.

“You’re so pretty, Mikasa,” you coo as you take slow, unhurried steps across the room. 

Gently, you rest your hands on her hips, thumbing at the hem of her sheer panties. When Mikasa averts her gaze in embarrassment, you place your hand beneath her jaw and tilt her chin, forcing her to look at you. Her stormy, grey eyes almost look black in this light, dark and cloudy with barely concealed lust.

“Don’t go and hide that pretty face of yours from me, baby,” you softly say, running your thumb over the plush of her lips, making them part. Her breath hitches at the action before evening out.

“Sorry,” Mikasa responds- quiet and apologetic. You can feel the exhale of her breath fan out across the thumb you have laid across her bottom lip. 

She surprises you when unprompted, she parts her lips further and takes the tip of your thumb into her mouth. She looks at you through her dark, mascara-coated eyelashes while she slowly swirls her tongue around your thumb, thoroughly coating the appendage with her spit. Lightly, she sucks on the finger, hollowing her cheeks out in the process as she takes your thumb deeper into her mouth. 

You groan when she lifts her head, leaving only the tip of your finger in her mouth. The low lighting of the room reflects off of the silvery spit that coats your finger before the erotic sight disappears from view when Mikasa lowers her head, taking your entire finger back into her mouth.

Unconsciously, you squeeze her hip tighter- your eyes transfixed on the spot where her lips meet your finger. Carefully, you press down on her tongue with your thumb until she gags around you. When tears swell at the corners of her eyes, threatening to smudge the eye makeup which she spent so long on perfecting earlier this evening, you take mercy on Mikasa, lightening the pressure. She releases the appendage with a wet pop, and her chest heaves as she sucks in a desperate breath. There’s a faint ring of her dark lipstick left around the base of your finger.

“You did so well, Mikasa,” you murmur as you wipe off the leftover saliva from your finger across her cheek. Mikasa’s previous confidence dissipates into thin air, and bashfully, she looks away, cheeks glowing from your praise. God, she’s so cute. 

Your mattress gives under your weight as you drop down onto your bed. You swing your legs over the top and lean your head back against your array of pillows. 

“C’mere, baby.” You pat at your upper chest, motioning Mikasa over.

She hesitates, unsure of whether to move or not until you motion her over again. She approaches the bed slowly, and carefully, she lowers her weight onto you, straddling your stomach. You place your hands onto her hips, rubbing circles into soft skin. Her muscles flex beneath your touch.

“Move up a little more.” You tug at her hips, prompting her to shift her weight forward. 

“Are you sure?” Mikasa questions, brows furrowing together in concern. She averts her gaze, shrinking under your heated stare. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she shyly admits.

Fuck, why is she so cute?

Mikasa squeaks when you roughly pull at her hips, forcing her weight to rest on your upper chest.

“Mikasa, I would die a happy death if it was with your pussy on my face,” you bluntly, but earnestly, say. You chuckle when her face flames up, and she brings both of her hands to cover her burning cheeks.

“Don’t say stuff like that,” she sputters.

“Why? I know it turns you on. I can feel you dripping through your panties,” you teasingly comment. The corner of your lips quirks up into a cheeky grin. 

You can feel a damp sticky spot on your skin right beneath where Mikasa’s crotch is pressed against your chest. You palm at Mikasa’s ass with both of your hands, lightly kneading the flesh. The fat spills out from between your fingers.

“Now be a good girl and sit on my face, Mikasa,” you say, voice dripping in saccharine sweetness.

Like the good girl you know her to be, Mikasa abides by your command. She readjusts her position, resting her knees against the pillows around your head. She lifts her hips up, positioning her crotch directly above your face. Her panties are sheer with her arousal, and your mouth waters at the sight.

You tug the damp material to the side, causing it to stick to the inside of her thigh. With nothing obstructing your view now, you’re able to see Mikasa’s bare pussy. You take a moment to appreciate just how pretty her glistening cunt is. Thin strings of her arousal remain connected to her panties that are pooled aside. Her essence is messily smeared across the inside of her thighs.

Your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip.

Mikasa yelps when you suddenly pull her down by the hips, firmly seating her onto your face. Instinctively, she braces herself on your shitty metal headboard- the standard one that all dorm beds at your college have.

“Oh, fuck,” Mikasa breathily whines when you drag your tongue deep between her folds, lapping up every drop of her dripping arousal that you can. 

You moan against her pussy, sending shock waves of pleasure throughout her core. She tastes so fucking good. When your tongue swirls around her clit, she instinctively grinds her hips down, pressing her pussy further against your mouth, which you have zero complaints about.

You moan again, pleased that’s Mikasa’s taking what she wants from you. She’s normally so shy about it. You guess that she’s more willing to let loose right now because she’s too lost in the haze of pleasure.

You grab fistfuls of Mikasa’s ass to encourage her to grind her cunt against your tongue as much as she wants. If you could drown in the taste of her pussy, you’d happily do so.

From beneath her, you watch Mikasa’s reactions through lidded eyes. God, she’s a beautiful vision to behold. Her styled hair is now a mess, her makeup slightly smudged. You can faintly make out tears pinpricking at the corners of her eyes. Her mouth hangs slightly agape as the sweetest moans and whines continuously fall from her lips like a siren’s song. Perspiration beads at the edge of her hairline, and you watch as they trail down the side of her face, down the length of her neck to disappear between the valley of her breasts.

If your mouth wasn’t already occupied, you would have licked it up.

You watch as Mikasa jolts forward, folding over herself when you suction your mouth around her clit and suck hard. The cry that erupts from Mikasa is heavenly. She scrambles to keep herself upright, pressing her palms against your wall.

You can tell that she’s close. Mikasa lets out the cutest little whimpers when she’s close to cumming, begging you please over and over as her hips unconsciously buck.

You zero your attention onto her clit, using just the right amount of suction and pressure to have her see stars. Mikasa curses under her breath as the taste of her release floods onto your tongue.

You greedily lap all of it up, holding her in place when she tries to squirm away from the stimulation.

When you finally allow her to move, she moves back to straddle your stomach. There’s a satisfied smile on your glistening lips and a reverent look in your eyes as you gently rub your hands up and down her sides, tracing the contours of her body that you already have committed to memory.

“How was that, baby?” you ask with a knowing grin.

Redness tints her cheeks- from exertion or embarrassment, you’re not entirely sure. You’d guess a combination of both.

“It was good. Really good,” Mikasa says with a soft smile. A quiet moan escapes her when you place a hand on one of her scantily-clad tits and gently squeeze. Carefully, you tug the straps of her dainty bralette to the side, freeing her breasts from their confines.

“Good,” you coo, drawing a whine out of Mikasa when you tug at her sensitive nipple. “Because I want to see how your tits bounce when you cum on my face again.”

#attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan smut #aot smut #mikasa ackerman x reader #mikasa x reader #mikasa ackerman smut #mikasa smut #attack on titan thirst #aot thirst #mikasa thirst #mikasa ackerman thirst #sub attack on titan #sub aot #saint.mikasa ackerman #shrine.attack on titan #sin too much #holy.hymns #tw dom reader

[saintodo]

forever thinking about nanami coming home after a long day of work, exhausted and wanting nothing more than your plush thighs to keep his ears warm as he lays down on your shared bed for the first time since he left that morning. and if he happens to enjoy an extra course, who is he to deny free dessert?

♡ note: nanami is wholeheartedly a man who eats pussy for his pleasure

♡ word count: 1k

♡ warnings: afab!reader, explicit content, pussy eating, overstimulation mention, fluffy/domestic shit <3, not proofread

Oftentimes, work is shit. The hours spent away from home are exhausting, feeling especially drawn-out whenever Nanami is forced to work alongside Gojo. Those are the days he looks forward to the least. Nanami doesn’t hate Gojo, not at all, but the older man never passes up the opportunity to poke fun at the blond’s expense, much to his ire. Any time spent around the white-haired sorcerer seems to age him.

The moment Nanami crosses the threshold of your apartment, his whole body relaxes. Within the four walls of your abode, he can feel the stress of work slowly melting off his shoulders. Some worries still stubbornly linger. Later, he will bring up his concerns regarding young Itadori to you, but Nanami has other things at the forefront of his mind as of right now.

He quietly toes off his shoes by the front door and pads his way down the hallway to your shared bedroom. He lightly leans against the doorframe and takes the sight of you in before you notice his presence. The dim glow of the lamp on your nightstand softly illuminates your face, bathing you in warm light. Your expression is relaxed, eyes slightly squinting as you scroll through your phone. The corner of his lips twitch into a hint of a smile- you’re wearing one of his old t-shirts from high school as part of your pajamas. The white faded text of “Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College” spans across your chest.

You pause your mindless scrolling and look up from your phone when you sense you’re being observed. A soft smile spreads across your cheeks when you meet Nanami’s gaze.

“Welcome home, Kento.”

You set down your phone onto your nightstand as Nanami crosses the length of the room in a few broad steps. He watches your eyes follow the movement of his hand, loosening the tie around his and undoing the top few buttons of his dress shirt. He slowly rolls up his sleeves to his elbow before sitting on the edge of the bed beside you.

“Hello, darling.”

He places a calloused hand on your knee, the gold wedding band on his ring finger glints in the lamplight. The warmth of his palm bleeds into your skin. He’s discarded his glasses already, granting you an uninhibited view of his eyes.

“I missed you today,” you hum against Nanami’s lips when he leans in for a kiss. The hand on your knee shifts a little higher and settles around mid-thigh as Nanami deepens the kiss. Your arms curl around his neck, fingers toying with the blond strands of hair at the base of his neck.

The bed dips below you as you shift your weight around, spreading your knees apart to make room for your husband to crawl between them. You quietly moan into Nanami’s mouth when he drags a thick finger along your clothed cunt. Through the damp material, he can tell how worked up you’re already getting.

“I missed you, too,” he says into your skin as he kisses down your neck. He removes his hand from its place between your thighs to help rid you of your borrowed t-shirt. He wets his lips with his tongue before wrapping them around your nipple. One of his large hands moves to knead the fat of your neglected breast with his palm, his fingers gently tweaking your nipple until the bud is hardened. You arch your back and place a hand on the back of Nanami’s head to keep him right where he is.

“Fuck, that feels good,” you breathe out, tossing your head back against the headboard. Nanami hums around your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through your system. After he’s satisfied with his work, he moves to your other breast to lavish it in the same amount of attention with his tongue.

“You make such pretty noises, love.”

A soft groan slips past your parted lips as Nanami moves down your body until his face is settled right in front of your clothed pussy. He wastes no time in stripping you of your slickened panties. He smoothes his hand over your soft thighs, leaving a trail of kisses up them until he’s face-to-face with your bare, dripping cunt.

It’s embarrassing how intent Nanami looks at your pussy. He’s close enough that you can feel his exhales ghost against your lips, causing you to clench around nothing. You move your head to the side, burying your face into the pillow to tear your gaze away from your husband, who looks like he’s ready to eat you whole.

A not-so-gentle nip to your inner thigh has you yelping. You tilt your head to meet Nanami’s eyes, a displeased expression gracing his face.

“Don’t hide, love. I want you to watch as I eat this pretty pussy out.”

He wraps his strong arms around the thick of your thighs, the corded muscles of his upper arms strain against the seams of his button-up. With his eyes on yours, he licks a fat stripe along the slit of your pussy, collecting your slick onto his tongue. The heady taste of you, sweet and sharp, overwhelms Nanami’s senses. It’s something that he craves, something that he is sure he will never be able to get enough of. He wouldn’t mind spending forever between your thighs if you allowed him.

Your fingers move to entwine themselves in the blond strands of Nanami’s hair as he begins to eat you out in earnest. The heat in your stomach starts to steadily build with each heavy stroke of his tongue. You moan and arch your back off the bed when he licks over your clit. Pleasure crackles all throughout your body, right underneath your skin. The sweet sound has Nanami focusing all his attention on your clit, harshly sucking and licking until your vision nearly goes white as hot pleasure crashes over you.

You try to roll your hips up, but Nanami’s arms keep you restrained as he eats you out through your orgasm. He eases his mouth off of you, kissing around your inner thighs when you whine from the overstimulation. You run your fingers through his hair, pushing any unruly strands away from his forehead.

“Welcome home again, Kento.” 

A smile plays on your lips as you peer down at your husband. He pushes himself up and leans in to capture your lips in a kiss. Your smile grows a little wider, you can taste yourself on his tongue.

“A welcome home, indeed,” he murmurs into your mouth.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #jujutsu kaisen thirst #jjk thirst #holy.hymns #sin too much #shrine.jujutsu kaisen #saint.nanami kento #around the hearth #saint.anonymous

[saintodo]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘

SUMMARY. gojo is a sick fuck who needs your help to get off

NOTE. needy submissive gojo makes me so (๑>ᴗ<๑)

PAIRING. gojo satoru x gender neutral reader

WORD COUNT. 1.7k

WARNINGS. sub gojo, dom reader, reader is a lil mean but not really, phone sex, male masturbation, light degradation, threat of punishments

“Sorry,” you apologize to your friends when your phone’s ringer goes off at full volume during dinner. You wince at the way some of the other patrons close by turn to look at you as you scramble to silence the noise. You must have forgotten to enable do not disturb like you usually do, you think as you turn the ringer off. You don’t pay any attention to the caller ID and slip your phone back into the rear pocket of your jeans. Not a second goes by before it starts vibrating.

“Are you going to pick that up?” One of your friends sitting across from you raises their brow while swirling their straw around in their glass. You shrug, pulling your phone back out of your pocket to see who it is that’s calling you.

“It’s just Satoru.”

It’s not unusual for him to spam call or message you, though you do find it odd that he’s calling you during an away trip for a mission. If you’re remembering what he told you correctly, he should be searching for the curse he’s supposed to exorcise right about now.

“Ah, your lover boy. Go ahead and rub it in our face how single we are,” they dramatically sigh, prompting your two other friends to laugh. They’re all a little drunk from the wine they’ve been sipping on, lowering their inhibitions. They giggle amongst themselves, loudly complaining about how it’s unfair that you’re the only one who has a long-term partner. You affectionately roll your eyes at their theatrics, happy to be in the company of your friends who you haven’t seen in a while.

Your eyes lower to the phone in your hand when it vibrates again. This time you’ve received a message from Gojo and you swipe to unlock your phone to view it. As soon as you see what the message is, you click your phone off as fast as you can. Discreetly turning your head to the side, you check to see if your friend sitting beside you managed to catch a glimpse of the text. Much to your relief, they’re actively engaged in a conversation with your two friends sitting across the table from you.

“Sorry guys, I’ll be right back. I’m going to take this call and make sure Satoru is alright.” They easily wave off your apology, speaking over themselves to assure you that it’s more than okay. You maintain an apologetic smile on your face until you’re out of their eyesight. The corners of your lips drop and flatten into a straight line as you push the bathroom door open.

Luckily for you, it’s a single-stall restroom. You quickly lock the door behind you right as your phone begins to vibrate again. You slip it out of your pocket in record time and swipe to answer.

“Hi, baby! How come you haven’t been answering my calls? Did you get my text message?” The sound of Gojo’s cheerful voice floods your speakers as soon as you bring the phone up to your ear.

Your fingers stiffen around your phone as you sharply exhale out. “Satoru, do you want to explain to me why you sent me a dick pic when you knew I would be out with my friends?” You sigh exasperated, dragging a heavy hand over your face.

The text message Gojo sent you was an attached image of his fully erect cock simply out. Even with only a quick glimpse, you could tell from the picture that Gojo was fully naked and most likely in the midst of masturbating. Looks like he finished up his mission sooner than anticipated.

“Baby, you know I can’t get off without your help.” You can picture the stupidly pretty pout on his glossy lips as he whines into the receiver. It’s infuriating how pretty the menace is. You raise a brow as you make yourself comfortable in the restroom, leaning against what you hope is a clean wall. You’re going to be in here for a while.

“What makes you think I’ll help you get off, Satoru? Especially when you’ve been such a bad boy for me,” you counter. He lowly groans at the pet name. Both of you know how much it riles Gojo up when you speak to him that way. The distinct sound of slick skin against skin fills your ear. “Who said you could jerk off without my permission?”

There’s a pause on the other end. “C’mon baby, be nice to me. My cock is so hard, it hurts.” He sounds desperate already. He must have been jerking off for a while before he called you, you muse. Heat pools in your tummy at the sound of Gojo’s wrecked voice, but you won’t let him get away that easily. Not when he interrupted your rare night out with your friends.

“Mm, no. If you want to touch yourself, you have to beg for it, Satoru. Maybe then, I’ll think about letting you cum,” you tut, reprimanding him. Gojo could disregard your words and touch himself if he really wanted to. It’s not like you could actually do anything to stop him with so much distance between you, but that would mean a punishment would be in store for him the evening he came home. As much as he finds a sick, twisted sort of pleasure in your punishments, the aching in his cock is really starting to get to him.

“You’re so mean,” he whines. You open your mouth to sharply retort that if he keeps this up, he’s not cumming at all, but Gojo continues speaking before you can. “Baby, can I please, please, please touch myself? Please, baby, I need it so badly. I miss you so much and I wish it was you touching my cock instead of me. I wish I was fucking you instead of my fist,” he trails off with a whimper, no doubt envisioning the familiar tight heat of your insides around his cock rather than his long, lithe fingers, which twist in the sheets to keep himself from jerking off like you ordered.

“You sound so cute, Satoru. Like a fucking shameless little whore,” you coo condescendingly. Gojo’s dick twitches against his stomach at your harsh words. “Go ahead and touch yourself for me, pretty boy, but don’t you dare cum until I let you,” you warn.

The wet sound of Gojo’s hand roughly dragging around his cock resumes. Arousal swirls in your stomach as you imagine how pretty Gojo must look right now. His skin is probably glowing with a thin sheen of sweat in the dim light of his hotel room. His dick flushed the sweetest shade of red as he works his hand over the length of it. The slick echo of skin on skin fills the receiver and you can just picture how furiously he’s fucking his fist.

“Are you close, Satoru?” 

You contemplate touching yourself- snaking a hand underneath your jeans, but the thought of how filthy the bathroom probably is turns you off from the idea. 

“Fuck. I’m so close, I’m gonna cum,” Gojo groans. His hand is covered in a mixture of spit and precum as he moves his wrist in quick jerks. 

“Don’t you dare cum, Satoru. If you do, I’m not touching you for at least a week,” you promise, your sweet tone doesn’t match your stern words in the slightest. A whine, pretty and high pitched, forms in the back of Gojo’s throat. He is so fucking close, a few more strokes and he’d be cumming, but Gojo thinks he would die if you didn’t touch him for a week. He harshly tightens his fist around the base of cock, delaying his once fast-approaching orgasm. His dick twitches in his hand, it fucking hurts from coming so close to an orgasm and not being able to cum. Precum drips from his swollen cockhead, painted an angry shade of red. 

“Can I please cum?” He whimpers into the phone, tossing his head back against the bed frame with a muffled thump. He is so precious when he behaves. 

“You are such a good boy for listening, Satoru,” you coo. “Go ahead and cum for me, baby.” You press the phone closer to your ear, so you won’t miss a noise he makes.

Slurred thank you’s fall from Gojo’s lips as he quickly works his hand over his cock. He cums with a groan when you tell him how pretty he sounds. Thick spurts of cum land on his stomach as he slows down his pace until he’s milked every drop from his cock. You’re quiet on the other end as Gojo’s breathing evens out.

“You okay, baby?” You say after a while of listening to his soft breathing.

“No, I miss you,” he immediately complains, “Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

You snort. “Satoru, it's only been like two days.”

“Exactly.” A gentle huff of laughter falls from your lips, the corners of your mouth pulling into a small smile. Even though it has only been two days, you can’t deny that you’ve been feeling Gojo’s absence. The apartment is too quiet when he’s not around. And even if he is the strongest sorcerer there is, you still worry for his safety. 

“I miss you too, Satoru. I’ll see you soon. You’re coming home tomorrow, right?” 

He hums, sitting up a little more straight in the bed. “Yeah, the curse was super easy to deal with so I can leave first thing in the morning.”

You affectionately roll your eyes at his light bragging. “Okay, I’ll see you then. Love you, Satoru.”

“I love you more!” He hangs up with a click before you have a chance to say that you love him most. Bastard. You slip your phone back into your pocket and exit the restroom to join your friends again.

“That was a long phone call,” one of them comments when you slide back into your seat. All their attention shifts onto you as you get comfortable again in your chair.

You fake a light chuckle before taking a sip of your drink. “Satoru gets needy whenever he has to go away on work trips.”

The conversation continues, quickly moving on from the topic after a few more lamentations from your friends about their current relationship status. You chime in here and there, but you’re mostly content to listen to your friends talk. Inwardly, you laugh. Your friends have no clue just how needy Gojo can get.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen thirsts #jjk thirsts #sub jjk #sub jujutsu kaisen #shrine.jujutsu kaisen #saint.gojo satoru #tw dom reader #tw degradation #sin too much #holy.hymns

[saintodo]

thots: tsukki crying during sex

♡ word count: 428

♡ warnings: gn!reader, fuckin’, men who cry during sex >

i’ve been thinking of tsukishima crying during sex. it’s seemingly out of nowhere. he’s got your legs folded, knees pressed tight to your chest as his cock drags in and out of your slicked up hole. he’s playing with you, purposely moving his hips so slow until you’re clawing at his shoulders for him to quit teasing and move faster already. 

he laughs at you, a little condescendingly. he thinks it’s cute how you want his cock so bad. tsukki gathers your wrists together and pins them above your head. his thrusts become more forceful, his cock hitting impossibly deep within you. the wet slap of skin against skin fills the air as you writhe beneath tsukishima, arching your back to lean further into his touch. soft moans slip past your lips while restrained grunts escape from tsukki’s throat. 

and maybe you beg tsukki to kiss you. it’s nothing new, the two of you have been together for a while, but when tsukki leans his head back to kiss you, he gets overwhelmed. your hair is disheveled and a thin layer of sweat coats your skin as your face is twisted in pleasure that he is responsible for. and your lips are pursed, waiting for tsukishima to kiss you and he just gets so overwhelmed with how much he loves you and how lucky he is to have you as his.

he loosens his hand from around your wrists to caress your cheek and slot his lips over yours. he quickly buries his face in the curve of your neck afterward and you’re surprised by the feeling of drops of liquid falling onto your shoulder.

“kei? what’s wrong, baby?” you ask, immediately worried. you try to cup his cheek and move his face away from where it is, but he refuses to budge.

“’i’m fine,” he says, all muffled. his hips stutter to a stop inside of you. “i just, just give me a moment.”

“you okay, kei? you wanna stop?” you question, still concerned for your boyfriend. you run your fingers through his blond strands of hair in a soothing manner, hoping to offer tsukki some solace.

“i’m okay,” he says. after a few moments, he lifts his head to look at you. his face is a little bit splotchy now, his eyes tinged with a hint of redness that wasn’t there previously. you wipe away the drying tear marks and tsukishima leans into your palm when you rest it against his cheek. the corner of his lip curls into a small, crooked smile. “just love you.”

#haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu thirst #hq thirst #tsukishima smut #tsukishima kei smut #sin too much #holy.hymns #shrine.haikyuu #saint.tsukishima kei #is he softer than normal? probably but i like my men soft <3

[saintodo]

thots: iwaizumi and dumbification

♡ pairing: iwaizumi hajime x afab!reader

♡ word count: 738

♡ warnings: dom iwaizumi, sub reader, explicit content, unprotected sex, dumbification, overstimulation, not proofread

“i don’t wanna think anymore,” you whimper, clinging to iwaizumi’s shoulders. his skin prickles beneath your touch; your nails dig a little too harshly into the tightly corded muscles of his upper back. the slight pain fades into the background, iwaizumi’s main concern at the moment is taking care of you.

“shh, don’t worry baby, i got you,” he gruffly responds. he physically smooths the furrow between your brows with a calloused thumb, dragging it down the side of your face to affectionately rub at your cheek to soothe the pinched expression your face has twisted in. his heart melts at the way you so easily melt into his touch, turning your cheek to savor the feel of his hand against your skin. your day must have been absolute shit for you to be so needy.

later, you and iwaizumi will discuss why your day was so awful, but for now iwaizumi intends on abiding by your wishes. “gonna fuck my pretty baby stupid just like they want,” he says, eliciting a soft whine from you. he fits his large hands around the underneath of your knees, prompting you to wrap your legs around iwaizumi’s trim waist.

his cock drags between your folds, along your dripping slit as he slowly rocks his hips back and forth. the stimulation feels good, but not nearly enough. you want iwaizumi inside of you already. he gently shushes you again when you whine at him to quit teasing. “be patient, baby. ‘m gonna fuck that pretty lil brain out, don’t worry.”

he punctuates the end of his sentence by sliding his cock inside the tight, wet heat of your drooling cunt. he sinks in, inch by inch, until his hip bone is flush to yours. your gummy walls are velvety soft, he can feel your pussy pulsating around his dick. iwaizumi releases a hissed moan when you clench hard around him.

“you’re so tight,” he groans into the crook of your neck. your pussy sucks him right back in when he pulls out half-way to thrust his hips forward. iwaizumi snakes his hands underneath you and raises your hips off of the mattress to get a better angle. a high-pitched keen rips from your throat when his dick hits your g-spot head on.

“hajime, i need more.”

“what did i say, baby? ‘m gonna fuck you until you can’t think,” he spits out. his fingers dig into the fat of your ass as he props himself onto his haunches. you claw at his shoulders when his pace speeds up exponentially. each forceful thrust of his has you seeing stars, his cock hitting that spot deep within you. the bed frame groans beneath your bodies.

iwaizumi watches as a haze of arousal settles over your eyes. he can see your worries leaving your mind, the stress melting off of your shoulders. good. that means he’s doing his job right. mindless babbles begin to spill from your lips when he brings a finger to rub at your clit.

“you wanna cum?” iwaizumi hums above you. your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, so you do what you can and shakily nod your head instead. iwaizumi nearly coos at how cute you are. not a thought going on in that pretty brain of yours except the need to cum.

his hips harshly bumps against yours as he pulls out nearly all the way, just the tip of his cock inside of you, to slam his hips back in. his finger rubs fast circles against your clit as he rams his dick into you, the combined stimulation easily sending you right over the precipice.

your eyes squeeze shut and your lips part into an o shape as an overwhelming wave of pleasure crashes over you. iwaizumi’s pace doesn’t falter as you ride out your orgasm, even when you begin to whine from the overstimulation. the constant friction quickly catapults you right into another intense orgasm.

iwaizumi hisses when your nails dig bright red lines into his back, the prickling pain feeling good combined with the intoxicating heat of your pussy. he chuckles as you begin to wail, your hips moving on their own accord to fuck yourself onto his cock. so cute. babbles of how good it feels continue to slip past your lips. that’s no good.

iwaizumi readjusts his grip on your thighs: he intends on fucking you until you can’t think, let alone speak.

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu thirst #hq thirst #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime smut #sin too much #holy.hymns #shrine.haikyuu #saint.iwaizumi hajime #tw dumbification

[saintodo]

thots: catboy gojo

♡ note: he has been plaguing me

♡ word count: 1.5k

♡ warnings: hybrids, bratty sub gojo, gender neutral dom reader, mentions of spanking and punishments, light neglect, hand jobs, kitty as a pet-name, light overstimulation, not proofread oops

catboy gojo is so pretty. his snow-white ears nestled between tufts of his hair are so soft and sensitive. a deep rumble forms in his chest whenever you gently scratch behind them. his tail is real sensitive, too. if you accidentally step on it or tug on it too hard, he gets so pouty. it doesn’t actually hurt him that much, but gojo likes to make a big fuss out of it, so you’ll smother him with kisses as an apology.

he’s so so so spoiled. he's so needy for you. catboy gojo loves your attention and gets so pouty when you don’t give it to him right away or when you don’t give him what he thinks is enough.

he’s such a brat about it. he doesn’t care that you have work to do, he wants your attention now and he’ll act out if you don’t give it him. he’ll go into a different part of the house and start making a complete mess out of it.

he doesn’t do anything that causes any real damage (most of the time), but just enough to inconvenience you. he’ll knock some shit over and drag clothes out of drawers so they’re strewn all across the floor. it’s exasperating dealing with him when he’s behaving like a menace to society.

normally, when you come across the mess gojo’s made, you’ll punish him, which he delights in. you’ll take him over your knee and make him count aloud the number of spankings you’re giving him while you bring down a heavy hand onto his ass. he keens whenever you tug on his sensitive tail between spankings.

but, this time you don’t do anything of the sort. no, you do something that gojo hates. you ignore him.

you’re not dumb, you know that gojo only acts out because he’s a needy little brat who wants your undivided attention. but he needs to learn that sometimes you have work to do, time where you can’t give him all of your attention, and that it’s not okay to throw a fucking fit in response to not getting his way.

gojo hates it when you ignore him so much. he can’t believe that his plan backfired so badly. from room to room inside of your apartment, he trails after you with the prettiest pout on his lips. a whine forms in his throat when you don’t respond to anything he says.

you silently clean up the mess he’s made and move to sit on the couch afterward. gojo slips underneath the curve of your arm to cuddle up to you as closely as he can while you flip the tv switch on. you don’t push him away because even if you’re frustrated with gojo’s behavior, you’d never go that far.

gojo is reaching his wits end. he cannot handle the silent treatment from you and he finally reaches his breaking point when you don’t scratch at the base of his ears like you usually do when you cuddle together.

“ ‘m sorry,” he whines, burying his face into the curve of your neck. his arms loop around your middle as he presses himself as close as he can against your skin. his fluffy ears tickle your jaw. “ ‘m sorry for making a mess, just pay attention to me, already.”

you’re honestly surprised that he caved so quickly, but you really shouldn’t be. if there’s one thing that gojo hates most in the world, it’s being ignored. you think it’d be interesting to tease him some more, but it’s rare that gojo actually says the word sorry, so you lower your hand on top of his head.

“you were being so bad for me, satoru,” you hum. your fingers gently nudge the base of his ears and you can feel the tension in gojo’s lanky frame melt. “i should bend you over my knee right now.”

a shiver goes up gojo’s spine and he shakes slightly in your arms.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you continue scratching behind his ears, your nails feel good whenever you press them a little harder against that sensitive area. “answer me, satoru.”

he jumps when he feels your hand curl around the base of his tail. you don’t tug on it, but you begin to slowly drag your palm up and down. arousal swirls in gojo’s stomach at the action. he clears his throat a little to reply to you. “maybe. you’d like having me spread over your lap, wouldn’t you?” he says cheekily. 

he yelps when you roughly tug on his tail. not hard enough for it to truly hurt, but enough to teeter the line of pain and pleasure.

“i could leave you here to take care of this,” you rock your hips right against gojo’s clothed erection, “all by yourself, satoru. if that’s how you’re going to act.”

you lift your hands off of gojo, making a move to get off the couch. you’re only pretending, but gojo doesn’t need to know that.

“wait, don’t leave.” he pushes you back down onto the couch, clinging to your frame. you suppress the urge to laugh at the slight panic in his tone. you grunt when gojo shifts his weight and plants himself fully on your lap. automatically, your hands come to rest on his hips, thumbs rubbing circles into his skin.

“hmm, why shouldn’t i?” you nose at his exposed collarbones, your warm breath washes over his skin. “you gonna be a good kitty for me, satoru?”

his cock twitches in his pants at your words. he presses his hips against yours, making sure you can feel just how hard he is for you. “think you can make me one?”

you laugh, soft and gentle, into his skin. the sound leaves goosebumps in its wake. it’s embarrassing how close gojo comes to whimpering when you press a featherlight kiss to his neck. “mm, i think so.”

it’s a little difficult with how close you’re pressed up against each other, but you manage to snake a hand between you and gojo. he moans and instinctively bucks his hips when you begin to palm at his erection. he’s already so hard. it never fails to make you feel good, knowing how much of an affect you have on him.

gojo wants more. he wants you to touch him so much more, but your touches remain light despite how much he rolls his hips into your hand.

“be patient, kitty,” you chide after he rocks his hips again. he whines but you swallow up the sound when you press your lips to his. gojo’s lips are always so soft, courtesy of the glossy lip balm you gifted him that he uses daily. he moans into your mouth when you slip your hand beneath the waistband of his pants and wrap your fingers around his cock.

gojo jolts in your lap when you smear the precum beading at the tip with your thumb and drag your palm up and down the shaft of his dick. you detach your lips from gojo’s and begin to press kisses to the column of his neck. he loudly whines when you harshly nip at the space near the base of his neck. there’s no doubt that gojo’s neck will be covered with blooming bruises by the end of this. he can’t wait. later, he’ll peer into the mirror and stare at his reflection and press his fingers into the purple marks, toeing the line of pain and pleasure, to ensure they’ll last longer.

“go ahead and fuck my fist, kitty,” you say between kisses and nips. gojo doesn’t need any more convincing than that. he plants his palms behind you on the back of the couch to steady himself before grinding his hips into the curve of your hand. your fingers curl around his cock, applying just the right amount of pressure as he moves his hips back and forth.

the couch creaks beneath you, but gojo doesn’t stop rocking against you. he throws his head back and bares his neck for you, making it easier for you to mark him up as yours. that’s all gojo really wants. he wants everybody to know that he belongs to you as much as you belong to him.

gojo cums with a moan when you bite down hard onto his shoulder. his hips move sporadically as spurts of white leak from his cock. he whimpers and hides his face in the curve of your neck when you begin to drag your palm over his length once his hips still, milking all the cum he still has left in his dick.

when it gets to be too much, you stop and release your hold on his dick and move your hand to rub circles into his back. you hold gojo for a while, peppering kisses wherever you can reach on his bare skin, and let him bathe in his post-orgasm bliss.

“you good, kitty?” 

gojo’s only response is nuzzling his face further into your neck and tightening his grip around your middle, much to your amusement. you plop a hand onto his head and pet his ears. the tv still buzzes in the background. 

catboy gojo is a needy, attention-seeking brat, but you really wouldn’t have it any other way.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk thirsts #jujutsu kaisen thirsts #sin too much #holy.hymns #shrine.jujutsu kaisen #saint.gojo satoru #tw dom reader #tw hybrids #catboy gojo

[saintodo]

thots: protégé!miwa

♡ word count: .8k

♡ warnings: gn!reader, age gap (three years), sub miwa, dom reader, slight power imbalance since reader is miwa’s superior, praise kink, semi-public sex, fingering (f!receiving)

protégé!miwa kasumi who is assigned to be your junior within the same year she graduates from kyoto jujutsu tech. you, who’s only a few years her elder, but already a semi-grade one sorcerer. (rumors are, you’re due for a promotion soon.) you, who was one of utahime-sensei’s most accomplished students, a fourth year rapidly rising to fame in the world of sorcery when miwa was just entering the school. she’s more than nervous to be working under someone like you, but she’s excited.

protégé!miwa who meets you for the first time and is awestruck. the first thing she notices about you is how attractive you are, almost intimidatingly so. there is a warm smile on your lips and a crinkle by your eyes when you lean forward and put your hand out for miwa to take. “i’m looking forward to working with you, miwa,” you say so kindly and genuinely that it makes miwa nervously stutter out a similar sentiment in return.

protégé!miwa who didn’t anticipate how difficult being in your care would be. don’t get her wrong! you are a fantastic mentor, endlessly patient in your instruction and always providing miwa with helpful advice and the support you deem she needs. she just didn’t realize how much of a crush she would develop on you. you’re attractive and kind, and the way you look demonstrating a technique you’re teaching her or exorcising a curse with such practiced ease during a mission has her unconsciously squeezing her thighs together.

protégé!miwa whose crush grows every day that she’s by your side. it gets increasingly harder for her to conceal her attraction to you as time passes. bless her heart, miwa tries her best to keep her feelings under control, she really does, but you don’t make it easy for her. you’re so nice and understanding and hands-on when you’re giving her instructions that it reduces her to a flustered mess, no matter how hard she attempts to stay composed. it’s almost…it’s almost like you know she likes you.

protégé!miwa who learns one night while you two are at a small izakaya, unwinding after a long mission, that you do know she likes you. a bit tipsy, miwa’s face immediately bursts into flames. she feels so embarrassed that you’ve known about her attraction to you all this time, but her surprise eclipses her humiliation when you easily admit that you find miwa attractive, too. she almost breaks her neck with how fast she whips her head upon hearing those words fall from your lips.

protégé!miwa who thinks she must be dreaming when you kiss her in the alleyway outside of the izakaya. but she knows that this is not a dream, it’s reality because she can feel the hard bricks in the wall behind her digging into her back and feel the heat of your tongue licking the seam of her lips before she parts them for you, granting you entrance inside of her mouth.

protégé!miwa who slaps a hand over her mouth to stifle the noises she makes, but little squeaks and whines continue to slip past her lips, filling the evening air along with the squelching sound of your fingers fucking in and out of her dripping pussy. arousal drips down her shaky legs, and her knees threaten to give out under the heavy weight of pleasure, but your strong grip on her hips helps keep her upright.

protégé!miwa whose ears go red when you lean in and press wet kisses beneath her jaw, sucking marks into the curve of her neck, and murmur praises under your breath. miwa’s cunt clenches around your fingers with each sweet comment you lavish her in. such a good girl, miwa. you’re doing so well for me. you look so pretty all fucked out like this. my pretty girl, right? all mine. you punctuate each bit of praise with a nip, and miwa is sure that she’s soaking your hand in her arousal as tugs you closer to her, whining pathetically that yeah, she’s all yours, that that’s all she’s ever wanted.

protégé!miwa who cums so hard on your fingers when you ask her to be a good girl and cum that her vision becomes clouded with stars. you remove the hand covering her mouth and swallow up the loud moan that makes its way past her lips, drinking down the noise like it’s the sweetest nectar.

protégé!miwa who goes the brightest shade of red when she comes down from her climax and realizes what just happened. her flustered state makes you laugh, and her heart flip flops into her stomach. you sweetly kiss her on one of her heated cheeks and tell her that she’s so cute, which only darkens the color staining her face.

protégé!miwa who shyly, but eagerly, nods her head yes when you ask if she wants to continue the night back at your place.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #miwa x reader #miwa kasumi x reader #miwa smut #miwa kasumi smut #sub jjk #sub jujutsu kaisen #sin too much #holy.hymns #saint.miwa kasumi #shrine.jujutsu kaisen #tw dom reader #tw power imbalance #tw age gap