Husband!toji Who Teaches You How To Finger Yourself— His Sweet Little Wife Who Depends On His Fingers

i’m sick so just a short thought tonight but i’m thinking about best friend choso spending the night just to find out sharing a bed with you is bad news… because he’s having wet dreams about you already and being in the space bed as you only makes it ten times worse.

so of course he assumes he’s still dreaming when you’re on top of him in the morning, riding his cock as he weakly tries to take some control by digging his fingers into your hips. you’re teasing him about how pathetic he is, waking up rock hard and leaky just because your body kept ‘accidentally’ brushing his throughout the night…

“Don’t worry, we’re going to fix this. It’s fine.”

(It’s pretty much NOT fine)

Context: Gojo finds Geto right after what happened in the village. Still somewhat in denial.

don't be mad

unboxing with suguru geto

I can’t believe it took me this long to finally draw yuuji in a headlock with his big bro

god why did i want to start writing again IM SO BAD

family man (choso x reader 18+)

summary: choso needing to stuff you full of his cum <3

warnings: afab!reader, gender neutral terms, degradation, creampies, breeding, cunnalingus

w/c: 540

a/n: I DONT REMEMBER WRITING THIS BUT I FOUND IT IN MY NOTES TODAY APPARENTLY I WROTE THIS IN AUGUST 2024 AT 6 AM ENJOY THIS RAUNCHY SHIT

family man choso who has nothing else in his mind other than to stuff your cunt full of his seed.

he thinks it constantly, when you’re cooking dinner, folding the laundry, scrolling on your phone, etc. literally any time you’re in his vision he thinks of his cum dripping from your hole as you’re recovering from his relentless load after load.

just like today when he came home from his brother’s school after training yuuji. you were in the kitchen finishing up the dishes in your lounge wear. which usually consists of one of choso’s t-shirts and a pair of undies but that was more than enough to get him worked up and thinking about your blissed out expression when he first pushes his cock past your tight entrance.

which explains how you got to this point:

“one more load baby please,” choso grunts under his voice into your ear.

his hands grip your thighs tightly while pushing them further and further into yourself as he fucks his cum back into your cunt.

the mess of two loads already pumped in your willing pussy with the mixture of your own releases now making a mess on the kitchen counter below you.

“pussy so wet for me, made to take my cum — fuuh-ck!”

he reaches between you two to rub at your clit again, wanting to feel you clench and spasm all over him. choso loves when you cum around his cock, the way you squeeze him like you depend on it.

“cho, it’s— ah mm— it’s too much,” you gasp over your words at the intense overstimulation.

“hmm, i don’t think so,” he thrusts into you hard, making sure you can feel the tip of his dick pressing against your sweet spot, “you can still talk so my job isn’t done yet.”

“nng, c—cho!” you tell out, not sure when your orgasms start or end at this point but all you can feel is the overwhelming pleasure the half curse is giving you.

you wonder if his insistent need to stuff you so full of his cum has something to do with him being a death painting but you couldn’t care less. this man knows what he’s doing either way so it doesn’t matter. he has your feet on top of his shoulders now and his free hand now around your throat.

“t—take it, i know you can. take it for me, slut,” he groans out in between pants of him catching his breath, “f—fuuuuck need you to cum around me again! feels so gooood.”

his hand speeds up against your clit in just the right way for the otherworldly almost stinging pleasure to rush from the tips of your fingers to the bottom of your toes. your eyes roll so far back that you lose your vision, clenching around him while he fucks his seed back into you.

your pure unadulterated indulgence was cut short when choso pulls out of you suddenly. before you could even finish letting out a whine you couldn’t even control, his tongue was cleaning the immense amount of cum he unleashed in your cunt.

“gotta clean up my mess to fill you more,” he mumbles in between licks, “need to make sure it takes.”

infinity

need some gojo hate fucking… gojo hate fucking.. gojo hate fucking…

“fuck you—piece of shit,” you say as SATORU slams you against the wall, cock buried deep, thrusting so hard the drywall dents. his white hair’s a mess, sticking to his sweaty forehead, blue eyes dark and gorgeous and you hate how he still gets you so fuckin’ wet between your thighs.

“yeah? keep talkin’,” he says, slamming in rough, hands bruising your hips, pinning you there. “missed this mouth—missed this fuckin’ pussy more.” it’s been months since you cut him off—situationship gone sour, him too flaky, you too done—but here you are, fucking like animals in his apartment.

“should’ve stayed gone,” you hiss, nails raking his back, red lines streaking his pale skin, and he moans—loud, nasty—loving it. “you came back—crawlin’ for this dick,” he spits, yanking your leg up, wrapping it around his waist, pounding deeper ‘til you gasp, head smacking the wall. “fuck off—hate you,” you pant, but you’re dripping, clenching him tight, and he laughs, teeth flashing, “feels like it—pussy’s soaked, fuckin’ liar.” his cock’s thick, relentless, stretching you so good and nastier than he ever fucked you before, like he’s proving something.

“always an asshole.” you shove at his chest—abs hard under your palms, slick with sweat—but he grabs your wrists, pins ‘em above your head, pounding harder. “and you always take it—shit, so tight,” he snarls, hips snapping loud, cum already leaking from how rough he’s going. “thought you were done—couldn’t replace this, huh?” he taunts, and you bite his lip, hard, tasting blood. “fuck you—meant it,” you snap, but he groans, “yeah—fuck me good,” and slams in so deep you scream, sliding up the wall, thighs trembling.

“nothin’ better out there—fuck, you’re mine,” he pants, hands grippin your ass hard. “shut up—never yours,” you choke out, clawing his shoulders, and he snarls, “who’s fuckin’ you stupid—look at you.” he’s feral now—abs clenching, sweat dripping down his chest, banging you against the wall ‘til paint chips fall. then he pulls back, dragging you to the bed, shoving you face-down, ass up. “gonna ruin you—shit, so wet,” he says, climbing over, slamming back in hard, bed creaking loud.

“hate you—fuckin’ hate you,” you moan into the sheets, gripping them tight, and he smirks, “keep sayin’ it—makes it better,” pounding deeper, hands yanking your hips back to meet every thrust. “you’re takin’ me so well—fuckin’ made for this,” he pants, cum dripping down your thighs as he rails you, nastier than ever. “gonna—fuck—wreck you.” he slams in ‘til the headboard bangs, and you’re close, shaking, “satoru—shit.”

“yeah—scream it,” he says, cumming hard, hot and thick inside, thrusts sloppy as he rides it out, spilling messy. he pulls out slow, flipping you over, both panting, blue eyes wrecked but smug. “still hate me?” he mutters, voice hoarse, brushing hair off your face, and you shove him, weak, “you’re the worst,” legs jelly, his cum warm on your skin.

he grins, leaning in, “yeah, and you’re dripping with me,” he says, low and rough, wiping his lip where you bit him. “hate you” you snap, legs shaky, his cum warm on your skin. he laughs, low, “good—round two then,” and you’re already burning again—hate’s never felt this fucking good.

fish