♱

“m-more! pleasepleaseplease—i need more!” you cried. they you had bent over—nanami holding your wrist that were tied behind your back with his tie to keep you standing, your skirt over your ass and thong pulled to the side so they could glide their fingertips up and down your slick folds, refraining from giving you the satisfaction of their fingers inside your pretty little pussy that pulsated at the mere thought.

“so fucking loud,” higuruma mumbled to himself and before you knew it, he was standing in front of you. you gazed up at him, watching him lick his lips as he undid his pants. he grabbed you by your hair, lifting your head up while creating a slight arch in your back and you came face to face with his long, girthy cock. “this ought to shut you up. . .” he mumbled, eyes narrowed down at you as he slapped his dick against your cheek then guided the oozing angry red tip across your already open mouth, coating your lips in his clear precum.

“look at that, little slut got her mouth all open and ready for me,” higuruma smirked, tapping the fat tip of his cock on your stuck out tongue. fuck, you were ready to have him in your mouth.

his grip on your hair remained strong, especially when he thrusted his full length down your throat. you choked—eyes rolling back to the feeling of the prominent vein running up his cock on your tongue, cheeks hollowing helplessly when tears stung your eyes, threatening to spill and ruin your mascara at any second. he was just so damn big.

your breast bounced to the rough, fast movement of his pelvis coming into contact with your face. you continued to gag, spit lubricating his cock and coating your chin, your tongue moving to swirl around the tip each time he pulled back slightly then back to give the base attention.

“taking this dick down your throat so damn good…you want daddy to cum all over your face, hmm?” he pulled out, his cock pressed firmly against your face as he moved your head down to suck his balls.

you were so distracted, lips wrapped tightly around his left nut, tongue rubbing the base faster the louder you heard his grunts and groans were, that you didn’t hear the sound of nanami’s pants being unbuckled or his fly being unzipped, so drunk on higuruma’s scent and the way his cock roughly hit the back of your throat before, thst you had almost completely forgotten about nanami until he pushed the entirety of his length inside you.

you screamed, eyes rolling back immediately at the feeling of the delicious burn of him stretching you out, filling you to the brim, his fat tip already pressed firmly against that spongy spot inside your tight, gummy walls that made you see stars. “fuckkkk! t-too…much,” you cried out, your hands behind your back pushing against nanami’s pelvis.

“oh? i could’ve sworn you were just begging for more,” nanami teased you, landing a harsh slap on your ass after. “mmm!” you whined, biting down hard on your bottom lip. “come on, i know you can take it. . .” he spoke low, moving his hips back to crash into you again, your ass rippling at the contact.

“oh s-shit!” you drooled, mouth gaped open as gasp spilled from your lips, legs helplessly shaking and cunt squeezing nanami tightly. the only reason you were even still standing was higuruma’s grip on your hair and nanami’s grip on your wrist.

“pussy’s so damn tight. . .” he groaned, pulling out a bit just to slam back into you. nanami watched as your pussy leaked cum all over his cock, making a mess down his balls onto the tiled floor. he stared at the ring of white coating the base and he couldn’t help, but chuckle. “cumming already? too bad i’m not finished with you yet,” he said, setting a fast rhythm of his cock thrusting inside your creamy pussy.

“just be a good girl for daddy and take it, yeah?” nanami grunted, eyebrows furrowing as he gave it to you hard, bullying his cock into you while higuruma took the opportunity of your mouth hung open to thrust himself back in your mouth.

you didn’t know what to focus on, your brain quickly turning to mush with how rough they were both being—their cock’s imprinting themselves into you, your moans from nanami’s dick fucking you so deep sending vibarations throughout higuruma’s body.

tears fell from your eyes, mascara staining your cheeks. your breasts bounced all over the place, legs involuntarily closing together as nanami’s balls slapped against your puffy, throbbing clit with each rough thrust. “shit doll—you’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up. . .” higuruma cursed, voice barely above a whisper.

you continued to move your tongue up and down his length even more at the idea of him cumming down your throat, looking up at him through glossy eyes. with one final hard thrust into your mouth, higuruma’s cock twitched—ropes of his cum spilling down your throat before pulling out and jerking himself through the rest of his orgasm, the remainder covering your face.

“yeahh, that’s it…good girl. . .” higuruma groaned, watching you lick your lips happily. “brain-dead slut,” he smirked a vile smirk, slapping his still hard cock against your cheek again. “i think she liked it hiromi…squeezing me even tighter now,” nanami bit his lips, his thrust into your pussy slowly becoming more and more sloppy. “oh really? i knew you were a little whore the second you walked in here in that small ass skirt,” higuruma lifted your chin, pushing his finger into your mouth and with his thumb pressed on your tongue, he spit down your mouth.

“mghh god—shit! gonna let me fill this pretty pussy up, yeah?” nanami cursed at the feeling of you squeezing him yet again at higuruma’s filthy words, letting go of your wrist and now keeping a tight hold on your hips, fingers digging into your skin. “y-yes! please don’t—d-don’t stop!” you loudly babbled, cunt pulsating around his length again, milking him for everything he had as you reached your own orgasm. nanami groaned, his cock twitching, soon after emptying his seed inside you with his tip pressed right against your cervix.

your eyes rolled back, legs shaking, pussy leaking yours and nanami’s mixed cum as you fell to the floor, no longer able to stand. drool seeped from your lips, completely unable to think about annything else, your cunt throbbing around nothing, so fucked out you hardly noticed flash of a phone camera and the snap following after it. soon, higuruma’s phone was flooded with calls and messages, but rather than answering he muted the device. “your father’s going to have to wait a while. after all, i haven’t had my turn inside that little pussy,” he smirked down at you.

he could never just stop at one. no, he was greedy—mouth attached to your cunt until you were so overstimulated you’d cry and try to push his head away to no avail. he was just so drunk off you—your scent when the tip of his nose was prodding at your hole, your taste when that familiar ring of white painted his fingers and dripped down his palm, your cries and moans that didn’t know whether you wanted him to stop or keep going, your plush thighs that always attempted to trap his head when you came, you, you, you.

he didn’t know what he loved more, you laid back with your legs spread just for him or when he’d express to you how hard his day was and would come home to find you face down, ass up with no panties on, your essence making a mess all over your silk sheets. you’d use your index and middle finger to spread your lips, showing him just how much you missed him, clit all swollen and puffy. that’s it’d take for his bags to be dropped and his shirt to come off.

you never had to ask twice—his hands would quickly find your hips to pull your body closer to him then he’d spit down your ass, watching it fall from your asshole to your pretty, throbbing pussy. his face would be in it immediately, mouth on your clit, nose between your slick folds while he’d tease your cute, tight little asshole before pushing his thumb inside. “f-fuck satoru, a-ahhh!” you’d loudly gasp. oh, how he loved hearing you cry his name while trying to run from him, your body sinking into the mattress after your legs gave out shaking with your eyes in the back of your head and him following you down, finger out your ass to keep your cheeks spread for him because he “knew you had another one in you.”

though, if you think that’s him being feral, just wait until the day you finally gave in to sitting on his face. he’d been asking about this for so long and was so damn eager when you let him—wrapping his arms around your thighs to pull you down onto his mouth when your slick dripped onto his pink lips from your hovering, gripping and slapping your ass, guiding your body to ride his tongue. he had completely forgotten about fucking you, his big, girthy cock out and hard, feet planted into the matteess, hips helplessly runting up as his tongue pushed in and out you, the tip of his nose again rubbing against your clit like it always did to take in that scent of yours that always drove him insane.

this quickly became his favorite—being able to look up at you, head thrown back, hips rocking, one hand pulling at his hair, the other playing with your hard nipple, breast bouncing, mouth gaped open. and it was when you glanced down at him, raking your fingers through his hair, did his hips runt up one last time and he came all over his hard abs, the vibration of his groans on your clit causing you to squirt all over his face. you screamed, body raising from his mouth, face and sheets drenched in the clear stream of liquid shooting out of you and all he could think about was getting you to do it again. yep, he was pussy drunk.

i was working on a new oneshot when i got my first request and dropped EVERYTHING i was doing might’ve gotten a bit TOO excited with this bc i DEFINITELY felt some type of way writing this, but then again kevin gates be talking so damn crazy in his songs i had a lot to work with🤷🏾‍♀️ — ♱. erotica

They weren’t able to take their eyes off you as you slowly twirled around the pole, flipped upside down with the back of your knee holding you up on the metal bar. Then when you’d let your arms fall back and switch to both hands on the pole, legs spread wide into a split. Or maybe you’d show off a bit—left leg close to your body while pushing against the pole, toes pointed and head back. It didn’t matter what you did, you always put them in a trance. A trance so deep they were willing to empty their pockets, risk their reputation, marriages, and everything else good they had going for them. Anything to catch a glimpse of “Scarlet”.

You smiled, blowing a kiss at the audience like you always did when your show was over and listening to the roars of the crowd. To say you didn't enjoy the idea of disgusting old men drooling and getting their dicks hard to the sight of you would be an understatement, however it was worth it seeing the money come in as being a waiter definitely didn't pay enough.

You picked up the cash, making sure not to leave a single bill on your way out and while it seemed like a lot in hand, you were rather disappointed once you started counting in the locker room. It wasn't necessarily bad, but you've had way better nights. You frowned, staring at the stack of bills in your hand and thinking over any possible way to make more. Maybe you can ask your boss if you could perform another show or entertain the married men? Because as much as you didn't like sitting on their laps, humping your pussy on their hard on while whispering filthy things into their ear, face in your tits as they moved their hands up and down your body, though never enough to actually place their dirty fingers anywhere near your cunt, you knew it was your second best option.

And so you went, many hungry eyes on your figure as you searched for tonight's plaything. You settled on a man who looked to be in his mid 40s. He had a wedding band visible adorning his left ring finger, an expensive black patterned suit and tie that made you guess he was coming right after work—probably told the wife and kids he'd be working a late shift like most slimy businessmen did.

He left the top 3 buttons of the white button up underneath the black blazer undone, showing the bush of hair he had covering his chest as he sat with his legs spread in the middle of the soft, black leather couch. His hair was thinning and he had a thick cigar between his lips, smoke blowing from his nose and open mouth as he talked to his colleagues. The rest of the men around him seemed just like him—rich, horny, and gullible and you could tell from the way they whistled and pointed their chins at you seeing you walk in their direction. You had your target, but fuck, did these guys make it easy.

"Hey boys, you enjoying yourselves?" you asked, hypnotizing them with the sway of your hips and seating yourself on your chosen guy's left leg. He quickly went from his leaned back spot on his phone, to sitting up, arms wrapped around your waist and pulling your body closer to his. He gazed up at you, smirking at you in a way that flashed all his gold teeth. A vile smirk that made your stomach churn—how could someone be so sickening?

You placed your hands on his shoulders and kicked your legs over his other leg, looking down at him from his spot against your breast. You watched as they circled around you, one even going as far as to sit close enough for your feet to be slightly touching him. "Hey sexy," the guy said, a hand now gripping your thigh.

"You looked so good up there," a guy standing behind the couch put his fingers under your chin to turn your head so that you could face him. He smiled at you, teeth stained by the tobacco he was chewing. It took you a bit when you first started to get used to the rather gross atmosphere clubs gave off because they definitely weren't like the movies and when your mind started to wander and notice every gross detail, the money became the only thing keeping you there.

You used to be unable to contain the faces you made when the men touched you with dirt under their nail or when they'd brag about how much better you were than their wife, but now you'd just cover your mouth and let out a short giggle and maybe playfully slap their arm after.

"You really think so? I feel like I could've done better," you looked up at the guy holding your chin big eyed, a pout forming on your lips. "Did those assholes up there not give you your money's worth, mhm?" he dragged this thumb across your bottom lip, watching you shake your head all doe eyed.

"Want daddy to take care of it?" the guy whose lap you were sitting on said to which you gave him your attention again and caressed his check, feeling the hair of his thick beard between your delicate fingers. "Please daddy, please take care of me," you laid your head on top of his, taking the same hand that caressed his cheek and dragging it down his chest. "Please make me feel better," you whispered, playing with the button of his shirt.

You watched him and the rest of the men around you search their pockets for their wallets and that was when you knew you had them. You let their rough hands grope your body, you let them run their credit cards dry on buying drinks for you that you didn't finish, but rather took sips of and poured it down their throats because the drunker they were, the more they ran to the ATM and came back with stacks in their hands to keep you with them longer. You let them put their noses in your neck, taking in your intoxicating scent as they left sloppy, wet kisses just below your neck, stuffing more bills inside your lingerie piece or into your open hand.

"Hey, want to make a hundred grand?" asked the guy beneath you in your ear, slurring his words with his hands gripping your waist to grind your clothed cunt on the tent in his dress pants. You let him drag his tongue and leave a trail of kisses from your collarbone up the behind your earlobe and as disgusting as his chapped lips felt against your skin, all you heard was him giving you the opportunity of a lifetime. "A hundred?" you repeated in a hushed voice.

"That's right, baby. And all you have to do is be a good girl for daddy," he whispered in your ear, his chest against the bare back as his fingertips faintly bushed against your clothed cunt. Oh...that's what he wanted.

Your manager hardly liked you doing what you were doing now, but sex with a customer? He'd be fucking livid—hell, he might even tell your boss. Though...then again, this was a hundred grand we were talking about. You bit your lip, contemplating what to do.

This man was absolutely vile—his hoarse voice in your ear, the stench of his breath his mint gum couldn't even suppress that was most likely the result of a lifelong supply of cigarettes, his dirty fingernails, his gold teeth. He was an unclean, unkempt man and his wedding band that shined in the dim lighting made your sick to your stomach as your mind filled with ideas of a beautiful wife at home taking care of a kid or two, clueless of the fact her husband wasn't working late like he said he would be.

You wanted to get up, take the bottle of beer he was drinking from, douse him over the head with it, and slap him right after. Though...you had bills that desperately needed to be paid and the money from before just wasn't going to cut it.

You turned your head to look him in the eyes and the smirk on his face plus the lust-filled look in his eyes told you all you needed to know. "I want fifty first and the rest after." "Make it twenty-five and you got yourself a deal," he said, his hand holding your chin to ensure your eyes don't wander elsewhere. "Thirty-five or nothing," you frowned and the man just chuckled.

"You make it so hard for me, baby girl," he whispered in your ear before cupping your pussy. You watched him take out his phone and go to his bank account, your heart racing at the idea that this could actually be happening. Hell, with thirty-five grand, you won't even need to fuck him. "How do you want me to send it?" he asked and before you could answer, you heard your manager calling out for you.

"Shit. . ." you cursed watching the pissed man walk up to you once he saw you. "Been looking for you for over half an hour and this is what you're doing?!" he said furious and all you could do was sigh, collect the stacks you were accumulating for the past hour and walk off.

"What I tell you about doing that shit?!" he shouted at you in a hushed voice, following alongside you as you left the group of men, not even looking back when the guy asked you if you'd be back. You didn't answer him, instead shutting him up inside the locker room when you split a stack in half and pushed it to his chest, shoving the rest in your black duffle bag.

"You were saying?" you crossed your arms over your chest, an eyebrow raised watching your manager try and count just how many twenties you handed him. There were many times you should've been fired for doing this, after all he was supposed to tell the boss anytime a rule was broken such as this one, though you always kept him quiet with money men gave you that were almost, if not, higher than his own monthly salary. It was either that, let yourself be fired, or offer up your body because he too was just as infatuated with you as the rest of them.

"This is less than what you normally give me," he frowned. "You say this after you just fucked my chance of thirty-five grand? Oh, you're lucky I gave you anything at all."

"And you're lucky I don't call the boss right now and have you fired or—" "Or have your way with me right here? I wish you would." The two of you glared at one another, the tension in the room thick as your hand gripped the pocket knife deep inside your duffle bag. With how dangerous Las Vegas was, you'd be stupid not to carry around anything for self defense. It wasn't called Sin City for no reason.

You watched him step back and sigh, folding the bills in half and shoving them in his back pocket. "You got a request for a dance," he sat down on the leather couch in the changing room. "That's what you're chasing me around for? I thought you said the boss stopped offering those," you sat down in one of the many makeup chairs, fixing yourself up.

"He did, but this isn't exactly someone you want to say no to." "Why?" you turned back, eyes slightly widening seeing the serious face your manager was making. "Because he'd probably sit and watch on some throne made of human bones as his minions skin me alive. Besides, the boss called and told me to approve it," he said, showing you his phone for proof which made you laugh.

"I'm serious Y/n! He's a very powerful man who could get away with whatever he pleases." "And what makes you think I'd want to give a lap dance to someone who—from the sound of it—would kill me if I didn't do it a certain way?" you asked, playing along with the bullshit spewing from his mouth. A throne of human bones? Torture? How many brain fucking drugs has this guy taken pervious years before you met him?

"He specifically requested you. I mean, who wouldn't?" he mumbled the last bit and you watched him look you up and down with red tinted eyes from whatever he was smoking all night. You spun back around in your chair, leaning forward to fix your lipliner and lipstick, rolling your eyes.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, seeing your manager walking up to you. His chest was against your bare back, leaning down to whisper directly into your ear despite you leaning your body to the side in an attempt to back away.

"He's offered me ten g's alone to ask you so whatever he's willing to give you for even going in there will be much more than that measly thirty-five thousand you were bitching about," he said, his words making you freeze. "That's absurd," you frowned, but were quickly convinced when he showed you the transaction in his bank account.

Your heart raced as you made your way to the private room and you started to take him a little more seriously seeing two tall, well built men in black suits and shades standing on either side of the door. Bodyguards to go to a strip club? Though maybe they were henchmen.

You reached your hand to knock on the door when one of them roughly grabbed your wrist, the other reaching his hand behind his back. Was he about to pull a gun on you? "What do you think you're doing?" he asked, gripping your wrist tight enough to potentially leave a bruise. "I was requested, you asshole! Now let go of me," you tried pulling your wrist back to no avail and before the guy could say anything, somebody opened the door.

"Hey, let her go or I'll break your wrist. You know he doesn't like to be kept waiting," someone said, playing a hand on the guy's wrist. You watched the man quickly unhand you, looking absolutely terrified of this person who was way smaller than him. They had white hair with a distinct thick reddish-pink line running horizontally across it. Their eyes were this pretty dark pink, adorned by long lashes, thin eyebrows furrowed from being visibly pissed off.

"Now apologize," they said, expression serious. "S-sorry ma'am! I didn't know you were her, I-I swear!" the man practically begged for your forgiveness, leaving you completely stunned. What the hell was going on?! "O-oh um...don't worry about it," you stammered, worried that if you weren't to forgive him something may happen to him.

"Thanks," you look at the person though they only smiled and nodded at you before letting you inside the room. On the velvet couch in the middle of the room sat a man. His head was leaned back, cigar hanging from his lips with his legs spread.

He had on a black suit jacket over a dark red, silk button shirt, the top 4 buttons undone revealing a bit of his hard chest, paired with black trousers and dress shoes. His strong jaw line, dark red eyes, and tattooed littered face was adorned by messy spiky light pink hair. He had a large, rather veiny hand on his lap, a hint of another tattoo on his wrist showing as his other arm was behind his head. You watched him tilt his head up, low intimidating eyes staring into your widened ones.

To be fair, you weren't expecting an attractive, tatted man who looked to be in his late 20s to early 30s effortlessly manspreading on the couch, a smirk now taking form on his lips upon seeing you that showed his pearly, and a bit pointy, white teeth.

He looked expensive—hell he smelled expensive. Though his presence almost made you feel...small. A menacing aura that made those around him scared that he might harm them in some way, but at the same time, something about him obviously made others respect him and his authority.

You assumed it had to be money from how nice his suit was or how rich his cologne smelled, but no, it must've been his status. But how high of a status did he have for your stubborn, rule abiding boss to give him special exceptions? Though maybe his looks had something to do with it too because as much as you didn't wish to admit it, you'd let this man do anything he wanted to you no matter how crazy it may be.

"Uraume, close the door on your way out," his deep voice rang through your ears and you watched them utter a "yes, of course" then exit the room. What was this? "Come, sit," he said, patting his lap to which you nodded and slowly walked over.

He took one last hit of his cigar before burning it out in the ashtray placed on the arm of the couch, smoke blowing in your face as his large hands went on your waist when your own hands held his shoulders to steady yourself, sitting with your legs on either side of him.

“No touching, it’s the rule for private dances,” you said, not noticing how fast your heart was racing upon looking into his dark red eyes. Truth be told, you couldn’t care less about any of the rules this club had, everyone knew that. However, this man’s touch left a lingering, hot sensation on your skin that you weren’t sure just how much more of it you could take.

He chuckled in amusement, but played along, his arms spread back behind the couch like before, looking you up and down while awaiting your next move though you remained frozen. “What’s wrong, Mamas?” he asked, an arrogant smirk on his face as he raised an eyebrow at you.

“N-nothing,” you stammered despite trying to keep your composure. None of the men out there, even the more attractive ones who came every now and then had the ability to make you as nervous as this one did and it shocked you to your core.

“Can I ask you a question?” he sat up a bit more from his slouch position, moving with such ease even with you on his lap. You hummed, the grip of your hands on his shoulders slightly tightening due to your nerves. “I watch you every night after your shows let even the filthiest of men touch you for your own benefit even though it’s never much and goes against the “code of conduct” I know you couldn’t care less for yet speak about,” he said, words making your eyes widen and your heart sink to the pits of your stomach.

The mysterious “bad man” basically just admitted to stalking you with a straight face and eye contact so intense, so intimidating that you felt helpless. Your eyes slowly darted around the room, though it didn’t last long before his left hard went from behind the couch to rather harshly grabbing your chin to keep your eyes in him.

“No touching. . .” you said, voice barely above a whisper, though he didn’t listen this time. “What makes you think I won’t benefit you more than those old fucks out there?” his eyes slightly narrowing at you when you didn’t answer, at a complete loss for words.

“One of my men overheard you making a deal with someone. What was it?” he asked, almost demanding an answer. You were so used to men being submissive towards you, falling to their knees just to kiss the tip of your feet that this guy’s dominant demeanor had your cunt dripping and pulsating from his words alone.

“Thirty-Five—” “That’s it?” He laughed loudly, that arrogant smirk coming right back when his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close to him, your chest against his. “I’ll give you three times that plus a tip if you quit acting like you abide by the rules and give me the ten thousand dollar dance I paid for.” he said, his voice now low with a hand rubbing up and down your bare back. Over a hundred grand without you having to get naked?

“Impossible,” you voiced exactly what you were thinking, frowning at the man before you. Though he didn’t say anything, instead directing your attention over to a black bag residing underneath the black wooden coffee table. “Mind if I see for myself?” you turned back to him, still in disbelief, but he just moved his arms back behind the couch, bouncing his right leg and your body along with it.

“Seriously? Show me some credit,” he scoffed, “dance for me. just one song and you can take the bag and go.” Really? That easy? To say you were skeptical would be an understatement, but still you stood up, flipped through to CD options for the vinyl, chose a sensual five minute song, and took a seat back on his lap.

With your hands back on his shoulders, you whined your body against him to the rhythm of the song, your hips grinding back and forth against his lap as your hands explored each hard bump on his strong chest and abs. He smirked, pulling another cigar from his pants pocket, placing it between his teeth, and lighting it before you.

With his lighter put away again, his hands went to grab your hips once your hands went behind you to hold onto his knees. He guided you in his hands, the friction of your clothed sexes bumping against one another causing him to occasionally grunt and grip you tighter while you bit down on your bottom lips.

“You’re so good at that, Ma. . .” he whispered, his eyes on your body against his. You didn’t verbally acknowledge his praise, but he knew it did something to you when you started showing off your best moves and touching him more than before. When his hands moved down to your ass, you pulled yourself up.

Your arms were now hanging behind him over the couch, your knees digging into the soft cushion when you lifted yourself up every now again to press your body against him. One of his strong arms wrapped around your figure to keep you pressed against while he kept a free hand squeezing your ass to which you gasped.

You stared down at him, lips parted and eyes darting around his face to take in each of his features—his chiseled jawline, his low, dark red eyes that continued to intimidate you, smoke blowing from his nose when he took one final hit before sitting it down for a minute, eyebrows slightly furrowed and lips forming a straight line as he studied you up close. His many dark tattoos, each lined and shaped with intent adorning his face made you wonder if he had any underneath his expensive suit.

Your heart continued to race and he could tell you were nervous from the way you absentmindedly nibbled on your lip. Though to be far, he put you in a trance much like how you did to the rest of the club with your shows. Something about him made you want to know everything there was to know about him. Where did he get his money from? What do the lines and symbols his tattoos create mean? Why does he have men at his every beck and call? Why did he watch you, call you specifically? What was his name?

“What’s your name?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. You were stunned by the suddenness of his question. Why does he care? As curious as you were about him, it was also clear he was a dangerous man so anything he knew about you needed to be minimalized. “Scarlet.”

“That’s your stripper name.” “I know.” “Why can’t you tell me your real name?” “You don’t seem like the type of guy I should entangle myself with.” “I’m not, but that didn’t stop you from coming in here did it?” “You threatened my boss.” He laughed at this, shrugging in response.

“And yet you probably want to know more about me, don’t you?” he asked and this time you shrugged in response. “Touché,” he smirked at you, grabbing his still lit cigar from the ashtray beside you, placing it between his lips and letting the smoke fill his lungs. He then placed it back down on the ashtray and harshly slapped your ass after.

He let out a satisfied hum when you gasped and smirked at you for the nth time that night, his pearly white teeth flashing at you. “Next time, it’ll be Sukuna requesting you and I expect you to come faster,” he said, his voice low, smoke blowing in your face with each word.

“LIKE A DRUGGIE, LIKE I TOLD YOU. . . YAYO, YEAH YOU, YAYO.”

like i’d probably have it like my last gojo drabble, but a forming situationship of two ig “players” who almost know nothing about each other, but still want each other for themselves though refuse to settle down (making it a BIT toxic) in more depth than i had it last time (of course that’s not it, but that’s the basics)! might even throw some x geto in there to piss of gojo like what are we thinking??

and if yall think THAT’S a good idea, this is totally random but, just wait till i put my kiss land oneshot collection idea in plan for the aot men. it’s the same concept as my eren yeager oneshot inspired by the weeknd’s kiss land song, but it’s different scenerioes with different characters, inspired by each song in the album! oh i can’t wait until i have a long ass break from school and a new computer. . .

he noticed the way your breath hitched when he stood over you, your eyes on his despite him facing his brother, the way you nervously bit the inside of your cheek, but it was that moment then and there that made him ask to join you two.

“yeah, whatever,” yuji said, not paying much attention, but you tensed. how the hell were you supposed to focus on the movie with him here?! “y/n? is that alright with you?” he asked, now leaned in so close you almost bumped noses.

“h-huh? oh uh..yeah, t-that’s cool,” you stammered and when he went back upstairs to get a blanket, you couldn’t help, but cringe. “get a grip. . .” you mumbled to yourself, taking a few deep breaths to calm your racing heart. however, it was proven pointless when choso, despite the seemingly endless amount of places he could sit, sat right next to you.

your eyes widened and you forced yourself to stare at the tv. he was so close—so close his cologne was all you could smell even with you buttery bowl of popcorn resting beside you to you, so close that the blanket he bought for himself ended up covering the both of you, so close that his muscular thigh was brushing against your plush one under the sheets and the fact the both of you were wearing shorts made the tension even more unbearable.

your leg began bouncing due to your nerves, continuously bumping his until he placed a hand down on the middle of your thigh. you gasped just as the movie tried to scare you three and while yuji thought nothing of it, you and choso both glanced at each other knowingly.

it was when yuji fell asleep mid movie, his loud snores filling the room and almost overpowering the screaming woman on the tv did choso’s hand start inching up your thigh. you turned to face him though he just stared at the tv despite his hand so close to where he knew you needed him.

“just focus on the movie,” he said quietly, his hand now going past the band of your shorts, dipping into your panties. and when the next loud scream erupted from a new victim on the screen, all choso could hear was the soft squelch your pussy made when he pushed two thick fingers inside and the breathy gasp you let out from the stretch.