🤞🏻Love Is The Most Twisted Curse Of All🤞🏻

✨26/Libra✨

[tokkushin]

✦ katsuki and his shy girl making out ⸝⸝ .ᐟ

cinnamon lingers in the air, the pale wall blurs your vision, and your ears are swallowed by the low hum of the AC — well, that and the sounds of his lips against your neck. 

"you nervous?" he questions, although he already knows the answer. 

since stepping into katsuki's apartment, you've barely spared him a glance — a quiet aura of hesitation clinging to your every move.

it's not that you and katsuki haven't kissed before — pecks on the lips do count — it was that you'd yet to kiss him like this. with your legs on either side of his lap, your bra the only thing left between you, and your breath dancing in the small space between your lips.

katsuki's warm, very warm — almost overwhelmingly so. his chest sticking to the lace of your bra and his body pressed so close it makes it hard to think.

his hands are like a heated weight over the small of your back, coasting over ridges and curves on your skin as he tries to soothe your obvious tension — keyword: tries.

because as his lips trail from the dip in your collarbone to the shell of your ear — you feel all sanity getting lost underneath his fingertips.

"you in there?"

honestly, you're not quite sure. "mhm, yeah i'm here"

you nod as if you're trying to convince yourself, too — ignore how the sudden closeness of his lips makes your cheeks heat and your heartbeat sound in your ears. flurries of panic only burrowing their way to your throat when his hands suddenly cup your face.

"no, you're fuckin' not"

katsuki's always had this knack — a silent understanding of the way your brain works. your quietness was never something he pushed against, only something he wished to ease.

even as his thumb drags slowly over your cheeks, you know he's only trying to steady you.

you whisper a small breath of his name, circling your hands around his wrists as your foreheads press together — that's all it takes.

and maybe, that's when something in you finally gives — when all that hesitation breaks the moment his eyes stare patiently into yours, and why you're the one pressing your lips together before you can even think twice.

he tastes like caramel, a warmth that settles onto your tongue slowly, like the sunlight peeking through an open window. 

surprisingly tense under your touch, his hands pause against your back — his mind insistent on following your guidance. 

he presses his lips gently against yours, slow and tentative, like if he rushes this moment it may end too soon. groaning breathlessly into your mouth when your hands card through his hair, and give the strands a gentle tug before they're back on his face.

it's not long before your confidence wavers, his muscles tightening subtly underneath your palms as you pull your lips away, breathlessly.

katsuki's cheeks are red, hair stuck to his forehead and a faint shine coating his chest. his lips are flushed a bright pink, spit-soaked — breathing unsteadily as he looks at you like he's trying to figure out what you're thinking.

"again," you murmur, chest heaving against his, "please?"

a toothy grin spreads across his face when your eyes dart over his features — as if they're in search of something — some kind of reassurance.

which katsuki is glad to give when he presses a teasing peck to your cheek, adjusting himself underneath you so your body's pulled even closer and whispering, "you drive me crazy, you know that?"

you can't help but smile.

lips skimming his for the last time tonight — this time with no intentions of pulling away. guiding his hands to your lower back as you press into his palms. 

your hips move against his thigh at a steady pace, soft sounds of your lips meeting blending with the hum of the AC.

"katsuki?" 

there's an annoyed sigh that tumbles from his mouth when your lips detach, "hm?"

"my bra . . . take it off"

© — tokkushin : all rights reserved. all works belong to me .ᐟ pls do not repost/copy, or feed into ai.

a/n: kali loves intimacy! i like writing this more than smut let's be so fr. i tagged it as smut cuz i don't want people yelling at me so just to be safe! -> masterlist. | comments and reblogs greatly appreciated! 💋

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly ⸝⸝ @kamislop ⸝⸝ @girlluvkatsuki ⸝⸝ @starrsoasis ⸝⸝ @isaxbellevs ⸝⸝ @0nutsforfaye ⸝⸝ @bunnimuse ⸝⸝ @xoxocelestial ⸝⸝ @yunaaaar ⸝⸝ @gyalcapone ⸝⸝ @pok3trash ⸝⸝ @toshislover ⸝⸝ @tentypos ⸝⸝ @satiiv-a ⸝⸝ @cupidkats ⸝⸝ @riotsgrl ⸝⸝ @mamashima ⸝⸝ @rottengrlsworld ⸝⸝ @j1hxxn ⸝⸝ @v1xxul ⸝⸝ @tamaglowchi ⸝⸝ @demonic-charcuterie ⸝⸝ @longringlonglands ⸝⸝ @violasepals ⸝⸝ @blythedelkatsuki ⸝⸝ @updownandbatty ⸝⸝ @potatosmenu ⸝⸝ @xoxorennaaeee ⸝⸝ @scootoot ⸝⸝ @thisgirlwokeupinmyhouseee ⸝⸝ @supershyleee ⸝⸝ @ultraamo | join the taglist?

[anglbunny]

KEEP QUIET - S.NAGI

smut mdni, semi public sex, for this req

The bass from the party downstairs rattles the walls. Music. Laughter. Voices echoing in Reo’s massive house.

But here—behind a half-closed bedroom door—you’re not thinking about any of that.

You’re bent over his hoodie on Reo’s guest bed. Nagi’s got one hand on your hip and the other pressed tight over your mouth, pushing in slow but so deep it makes your legs shake.

“Shhh,” he breathes, voice a little breathless. “Told you not to be so loud, baby.”

You can’t help it.

He’s thick. Heavy. Filling you up in that lazy, toe-curling rhythm that only Nagi can manage—like he’s not even trying, like it’s nothing to him, and yet your entire body is already trembling.

Your whine is muffled against his palm. He leans down, lips brushing your ear.

“Fuck,” he mumbles. “You feel so good—might be better than winning.”

He laughs softly when you try to turn around and glare. “Kidding. Kind of.”

You reach back to grab his wrist, fingernails digging in when he shifts his angle and hits just right.

“Shit,” he groans, voice finally cracking. “You’re squeezing me so hard…”

The door creaks. A shout echoes from the hallway. Footsteps.

You freeze. He doesn’t.

You smack his thigh in panic—but Nagi just presses closer, bodies flush, hand still over your mouth as he thrusts deep, dragging his cock out slow before slamming back in with a grunt.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, kissing your shoulder. “They won’t come in.”

Another thrust. You nearly choke on the sound that slips out.

“If they do, I’ll just say you got dizzy,” he murmurs, cock twitching inside you. “Helping you lie down. Like a good boyfriend.”

You bite his hand. He moans.

“I’m not stopping, baby. Not when you’re this wet for me.”

And then he fucks you harder—still slow, still lazy, but with that heavy, controlled pressure that makes your thighs quake and your mind go blank.

“Gonna fill you up,” he groans. “Let me cum inside you, yeah?”

TL: @samm1e13 @demiitria @syleepy @chaoslibra @bontenxo @pinkymangacaps @riinniies @samthesimp1 @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cookiesandcreammy @rinniebinniebay @ravenbc @kamelika @luvsymai @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @silverwings920 @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @yanderebluelockfan @valexqpt @bigclownshoes @rinniewinnie787 @satorella @mitsurisupporter @meikstv @mihyas-dieehefrau @ravenbc @greekyoghurtwithberries @shezuannn @laslowchan @is2sae @yutamy1beloved @ethxrxxlity

A/N: locking in guys, time to revamp and do my 140 requests

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

Masterlist

[unknownsvoid]

ꨄ︎ Sleepy sex with Nagi!

We've all had our fair share of lazy days, some having more than others — some being Nagi, but you're not complaining. Sure, his laziness can be irritating at times, but that's actually kinda rare. He's fun when he wants to be, and is capable of being expressive when he has enough energy to.

Just like now where both of you are snuggled up close in bed. The underwear you two were wearing is carelessly clinging to your thighs because you got far too horny and lazy to actually take them fully off.

"Lift your leg up higher." Nagi murmurs against your neck, breath hot against it. You hum in response, leg hiking up and resting on top of his leg, making his cock push deeper inside of you. His tip presses a wet kiss right against your sweet spot — eliciting a moan from you both. His thrusts are slow — lazy. He doesn't have enough stamina in him to fuck you properly, but neither of you is complaining.

He buries his face deeper into the crook of your neck, pulling you closer towards him. He isn't groaning or moaning; he's doing more whimpering and panting if anything — but even that's shaky like his body is too tired to even react — both of you are, actually.

Sooner or later, the pace isn't cutting it for him — it feels like he's edging himself over and over again with each stroke. His hands grip your waist, nails digging into the flesh before picking up the pace — not fast — not languid — just... medium-paced.

Desperation builds up inside of you and your fingers grab a chunk of his hair, forcing his head away from your neck just so you can give him a kiss — if you can even call it that. It's sloppy and the two of you can barely move your lips, but again, who cares? You both need it — no matter how nasty the drool dripping down his chin is. You pull back, just for a second to mumble against his lips, "'M close."

He nods, a hand moves from your waist all the way between your legs, teasing your clit/tip with his finger, wanting to push you right over the edge, which you do, the wave of intense pleasure washing over you. The subtle spasming of your hole on his dick causes him to cum as well — spurts after spurts of cum filling you up.

You both stay still for a moment afterwards — enjoying that post-nut glow.

"Gonna take a nap now, 'kay?" Is genuinely the only thing Nagi says before he falls asleep right against your chest.

not a proof read. idgaf.

[pyroami]

I TOUCH MYSELF JUST THINKING ABOUT YOU, YEAH

I'm sexually frustrated, and I can demonstrate it if you'd like.

𝄞 synopsis: your best friend, SAE ITOSHI knows you've never been one to have sex, do hookups, or even date. he doesn't want to overstep; he really shouldn't. but you keep looking at him like you want him to teach you, like it's his responsibility. and maybe as your best friend? it is.

𝄞 contains: SMUT, fem!reader, reader has hair, reader has a mom, they r 19, swearing, endless anime references, childhood best friends, family friends & neighbours, experienced!sae, inexperienced!reader, bratty!reader, pussydrunk!sae, posessive!sae, pining, sae teaches reader how to kiss and masturbate, making out, neck kissing, vaginismus (complications with his fingers), clit rubbing while you touch yourself, pussy spitting, pussy eating under the blanket, yapper sae i repeat yapper sae

𝄞 word count: 6.9k + 453 bonus drabble !

𝄞 credits: to @g-gulp for editing, discussing, and making the banner for me! ur so awesome n amazing. other creds to all my irl friends who beta read this...

𝄞 A/N: piggybacking off this post. based off an argument i had w an experienced!sae truther... also i took inspo's from @dotlusional's 'kiss' w katsuki!

"Okay, it's embarrassing, but I haven't really kissed anyone before."

"That's not surprising in the slightest."

"What? Hey!"

Sae had always been the blunt type; you knew of that. Ever since you were children, he would wave away the kind reporters asking him questions with a harsh 'Go away', take trophies and medals wherever he walked, and speak like he was better than everyone else.

Nobody told him he shouldn't talk like that to people — especially to adults and teachers. That language like that wasn't proper etiquette, so he never fixed it.

And you were always the more polite type. Shy, but got along with almost anyone if they spoke first. Kind, chiding him whenever he told another kid to piss off. Pretty, as the years went by and you went from scraped knees and tangled hair to soft skin, girlish fragrances, and the delicate contour of your legs.

He swallowed thickly.

Your legs.

As you got older, you stopped wearing basketball shorts and switched to skirts, then short shorts, then slacks. Frankly, it was hard for him to look away from your thighs. They were plush and soft and ran up the curve of your—

He tore away his gaze from your bare legs resting over the blanket and focused on the TV screen, the fan, and the open window pouring with rain. Anywhere but your tempting skin.

Sae usually doesn't admit these kinds of things, especially not to you, but looks alone? He's astonished that not even one person ever tried hard enough to date you. You're smart, comforting, and nice to look at. If he were to settle down, he would do it with someone like you.

Of course, someone like you.

"I don't mean it like that," he murmured, fixing on your eyes instead. Pretty they were—all round and warm and focused on his. "You reject everyone who's interested in you."

Your index rubs your chin thoughtfully. "That's because..."

"Of your standards. Always on about your anime boys, huh?"

"That is so not funny, Sae!"

"It is a little funny. You're like Rin. He's almost finished his Junji Ito collection."

"Oh, now we're comparing me to Rin—"

"You collect figures and manga."

"They're pretty."

"They're anime boys."

"They're Tomoe, actually. Don't generalise."

"Tomoe is an anime boy."

"You were the one who watched Kamisama Kiss with me!"

"Hmph. Touché."

When was it? The summer before he left for Spain? You were prancing on about your ritualistic tradition of bingeing romance anime with him. There was Kamisama Kiss; Lovely Complex; NANA, which he had to stop because he hated Shoji; and his favourite, Ouran High School Host Club. The blonde male lead, Tamaki, always made him snort into his sleeve as a boy while you shook his shoulder squealing about it.

Anime like that was more up Sae's alley compared to Rin's fixation for horror and suspense, so he quietly cherished those days. Lying on the couch, watching TV in the summer heat, your frame on your stomach next to his, destroying a popsicle stick. It was a much better predicament than watching some porno his teammates had found on a beat-up DVD rental.

After all, he was with you.

You fiddled with your hands as the movie played on. Taxi Driver, for the third time this year. It was his favourite movie, but now that he thought about it, he never asked if it was yours too.

Was it?

You severed his thoughts with a question. "What was the anime you like right now, anyway?"

"The Apothecary Diaries. I like Xiaomao."

"You just like her cause she's like a cat."

"Meow."

You rolled your eyes at his quip. "I wonder what you think of Jinshi, then."

He paused. Sae always had a soft spot for the types of people with an odd backstory, much like Jinshi. It spiced things up compared to all the boring societal bullshit he deals with enough every day. "...I like him too. But he's a little dramatic for my tastes."

"You only like him cause he's pretty."

"Are you slut-shaming me or projecting?"

You snickered. "The former. Is he your type?"

"Not really? What do you think my type is?"

Waving your hands around, you mocked. "Someone hot with a nice ass."

He scoffed, but for some reason, he could feel his jaw clench. "So now you think I'm shallow."

You snorted. "...Yeah."

"Looks aren't everything, y'know. Pretty sure I go by vibe."

You snickered, your hand reaching into the bag of potato chips, his favourite snack that he was banned from eating. Damn you. "Uh huh."

You popped the chip into your mouth; a soft crunch was heard between your teeth, but all he could focus on was the plushness of your lips. He wondered if they felt as delicate as they looked. If they were as untouched as you said. How could that be possible? Look at you—

"Y'know that scene in The Apothecary Diaries where Maomao thinks his dick is a frog?"

He rubbed his cheek, snorting into his palm. "What about it?"

"Do dicks feel like frogs?"

Sae hadn't jerked off enough to remember, and he certainly wasn't going to check. Sighing, he said. "I don't think so? Mine doesn't."

"So why did she think it was a frog?"

"She's never felt a dick before. And it was probably the position. He was on top of her, after all."

You shook your head. "No, she was on top of him."

"Idiot. He was the one who landed on her."

As Sae reached for his phone before you could pointlessly argue about their weird pseudo-sex position, the sheets rustled and—

You climbed on top of him. Eyes wide and cheeks flushed, grinning like you proved something. Your arms were braced on either side of his head, your hair grazing the skin of his cheeks. And your knees—they were braced on either side of his hips, the urge to grab them all too real. Too sweet. Too good.

His breath hitched, magenta bangs poking his forehead as he murmured lowly. "What are you doing?"

Still, his large hands moved to rest on your waist, anchoring himself.

You reached for the phone in his hand, plugging in the password you knew by heart into the screen, fiddling with the phone.

You tilted the glass right before his eyes, it was that stupid frog scene. Maomao was on top of Jinshi, and you were unfortunately correct.

"See! I told you she was on top of him!" You grinned, pulling the phone away.

Before Sae could process what was about to leave his lips, he scoffed. "Are you sure you've never even kissed anyone before?"

"...What is that supposed to mean?"

Fuck.

He grumbled softly. "You're on top of me."

You scowled. "It's how the scene goes—a physical demonstration. And you're dead wrong; I don't feel a frog in this position."

"Cause m'not hard, stupid."

But if you kept yourself there any moment longer, he might be. His dick was already stirring to life in his sweats.

"Pfft— You aren't?"

"Very funny. You're a natural at this."

"At what?"

Sae didn't want to overstep; he really didn't. Ever since you were kids, he had always felt this weird sense of protection towards you. At first, it was the same protection he felt towards his younger brother, Rin, even though you were the same age and probably tougher than him. Then as he grew older and hit that age where some people were more than family, that protection grew into something different. Something familiar, yet completely foreign at the same time.

So he shouldn't overstep; he'd be a horrible, horrible man if he did. But your lips are curved so prettily into a proud smile. Your eyes, the colour and wrinkles of skin, stirred something down his neck and abdomen.

The tingle didn't stop there, blood rushing to his half-hard cock.

Shit.

He already moved to tuck your hair behind your ear, whispering. "Temptation. Wanna gain some experience?"

You paused, eyes blowing wide.

Shit.

The both of you recoiled from each other instantly. Sae had nowhere to run, really, but he threw his head back against the couch, hands twitching, deciding if he should let go of your waist or not. You, on the other hand, completely pulled back. In this new position, it seemed more like you were straddling him than just looming over him.

A flush crept up his neck, his hand moving to cover the lower half of his face. "That was a—"

"Geez, didn't know you could be so bold." You laughed, rubbing the back of your neck.

He blinked, hoping you were another hallucination and he was dreaming in the confines of the Real Madrid training facility. That you were just another illusion tempting him.

No, you were still there. This time, your eyes lit up.

"Hey, that's a great idea, actually!" You leaned in closer again, a bright smile plastered over your mouth as your breaths mingled.

He paused. One second. Then, the next one. His lips twitched expectantly, his cerulean gaze low-lidded and fixed on you.

"...What is?"

"Teaching me how to kiss."

Damn his biology, cock completely twitching to life at your wanton suggestion. "Wha... What?"

"Oh, come on; it's just a little kiss," You whined, nudging his shoulder.

Sae cleared his throat, quickly adjusting the waistband of his sweats. "No."

"You've already kissed like, so many other people. One more wouldn't hurt. And it's for educational purposes."

"There's a difference when I kiss other people," he whispered, his sensual gaze betraying his words. "It's that they're not you."

"Dude, am I that bad?"

Dude? His brows furrowed, his lip curling into a grumble. "Not what I meant."

"Then what?"

The space between you was so thin he could die. Let the couch swallow him whole, and let the hallucination die with him.

Hazy excuses and words scrambled in his mind. "It's just that... We're friends. And your mom wouldn't be exactly happy with me if she knew about this."

You shuffled in your position, hips lifting off his. "...My mom isn't here right now. And we're not kids anymore. I don't need my mom's permission to do things."

Sae inhaled sharply when you pouted, head tilting back and hitting the soft cushioning. Were you going to keep whining about it until he gave in? Pester him and keep pressing yourself against him? God, what if he were going to like it?

Then, you muttered. "...Fine. Not like I wanted to know, anyway."

Ever since you were children, Sae had always been the more disciplined one of you two. When he was renowned as a football prodigy, nutritionists and dietitians quickly came into his life, lecturing him about his dietary restrictions to maintain and grow his build. While you ate Happy Meals and devoured candy every week, Sae had to almost entirely let go of fast food, specifically his favourite—French fries. There was no doubt that he had to let go of many things to be perfect, but then he discovered that perfection was more than a flawed goal. Flawed philosophy. A lie.

But even if he wasn't perfect—nobody was—Sae could have at least shown some semblance of hesitation or discipline, especially when it came to you, someone who was oh so dear to him.

Instead, his fingers wrapped around your wrist and tugged you down, his lips brushing your cheek.

One breath.

Then, the second one.

And on the third, his other hand snaked to the back of your neck, the faint blades of baby hair standing up from his touch.

"I'll teach you," Sae whispered, something resembling a low whine pulling from his throat. "Nobody else can."

You swallowed thickly, eyes wide and pouring into his.

"Okay, I trust you."

His lips were twitching and breath uneven as you uttered the words. You might have been some sort of hallucination he imagined to get through the countless gruelling days in Spain. You might have been a fragment of his dream. Who cares? You were still so utterly divine.

After all, you were his favourite girl. His best friend.

Sae didn't want to overstep; he really didn't. But if you didn't learn ruin from him, then someone else would have to teach you. And he knew he was too selfish for that.

One breath. Then, the second one. And on the third, you closed your eyes.

And his lips pressed against yours.

You never thought you would find yourself in this kind of situation.

Sure, younger you had eyes. Sae Itoshi was famous and handsome and rich, but he was off-limits. He was your neighbour. And after Sae moved in Spain for almost three years, you were much closer to Rin than the distant boy since he barely responded to your letters and calls.

Getting involved with Sae would be a betrayal to your dear neighbour and pseudo-son, Rin. You once thought. Sae was annoying anyway.

But then his lips pressed against yours like you were something delicate, and the faint taste of strawberries and honey sent thrills of warmth straight to your core; any semblance of restraint you had melted away, pressing yourself against him firmer—needier.

Then, you pulled away, just enough to peer down at him. His magenta locks were all frizzled up from the cushioning, and his cerulean gaze was half-lidded and fixed on yours.

No, more like on your lips.

"Did I?..." You start, but he cuts you off with a chuckle. "That was just a peck, idiot. Open your mouth."

You blinked.

His cold thumb pressed softly against your bottom lip, pushing the fullness down just enough to part your lips.

"Open your mouth," he whispered again, lower, against your lips. "It feels better this way, I promise."

A soft whine escaped your throat as he pressed his lips against yours again, shocks of electricity shooting down your spine and abdomen. His tongue swiped against yours once, something you assumed was like asking for permission, and your lips completely sealed around his, pressing yourself against him further.

Your hands scrabbled at the collar of his white T-shirt as his tongue prodded in the wet cavern of your mouth. It was gentle, like he was testing if you'd pull back. And when you whined, his tongue dragged slowly over yours, his hands tangling in your hair.

"Mmm—" Sae drawled into your mouth. "Is this okay?"

You panted, your breath mingling with his. "Yeah, yeah—Sae—it's good. Feels good."

"Yeah?" He seared his lips onto yours again, tongue webbing out to rub the roof of your mouth, sending sparks of heat down your stomach. He pulled back again in a quick haze, lips brushing against yours. "Feels good, hm?"

"Feels s'good; is it always this good?" You mewled, pecking his lips before flicking your tongue over his bottom lip, gasping when his mouth parted.

One of your hands gripped his collar, the other cupping the back of his head, tangling between his soft magenta locks. A gentle prick disturbed your bottom lip, caught between his teeth.

It stung a little. And in a normal context, it would even hurt. But it felt so good—so, so good when the sting came from him.

His lips then descended to pressing wet kisses down your jaw, all the way to the column of your neck.

You moaned quietly. His lips were hot—suffocatingly hot to the touch. Burning, like a fire had scorched your skin, but instead of pain, it was bliss.

You felt his lips curl into a faint smile against your warm skin as you craned your head back, exposing more of your neck. Soft groans escaped your throat, your fingers curling hard into his shirt.

His lips settled in the junction between your neck and shoulder, pressing a soft kiss before biting down. Harder than before.

"Sae!—"

"First time it felt this good for me too." He murmured against your skin, slowly thumbing your hips all the way up your waist. "You sure this is your first time?"

A slight flush crept up your neck, turning your head away from him. "You don't have to try and make me feel better, y’know…"

"M'being forreal." He tilted his head to the side, cerulean eyes filled with something you weren't quite used to—mirth. His gaze kept following yours even as you tried to look away. "Don't believe me?"

You pursed your lips sheepishly, your hands moving to rest over his shoulders. "Not really. But I— It's kinda hot in here, isn't it?"

Maybe it was his wet, full lips, or the fact that his lashes were so close you could count the endless, luscious hairs. Maybe it was the soft tingle in your core that tightened with each lingering touch of his hands.

Then, he lifted himself up before gently pushing you off his lap. "You're nervous; I get it. It's because you're on top of me."

He loomed over you, a playful twinkle in his eyes so faint you wouldn't catch on if he weren't your best friend. An annoying kid you forced to be your friend.

Naturally, you pushed yourself back until your back hit the cushions. Blinking up at Sae, who stopped himself short when you lay down, your hand tugged on the hem of his shirt.

You knew what that meant; so did Sae. A silent plea for something more than kissing. A silent prophecy that if he leant down, he wouldn't be able to get back up again.

Fucking Sae Itoshi, the idea of that was too surreal. You knew he had experience, that being a prodigy meant plenty of beautiful men and women threw themselves at his feet. You knew that he lived in an entirely different world from yours for five years, doing who knows what out there.

Still, you wanted him. You wanted him bad.

You frowned. "...Sae."

"This is going a bit far, don't you think?" He said, eyes averting from yours.

"I thought you wanted to."

"...I do."

"Then why are you hesitating?"

"I'm not supposed to touch you like this—"

"But you already have," you cut in. "Why are you acting like I'm some kind of... some kind of nun?"

"Pfft— You kinda are."

"That's not even true!"

"You are really innocent, sweetheart. It's not a bad thing."

You bristled. Sweetheart?

"Sae, c'mon," You tugged harder, watching his jaw clench. "Please."

He muttered. "Don't say that."

"Please."

You tugged on him a little harder, but this time, he let himself fall over you, hands bracing on each side of your head.

He pressed his lips against your forehead once, the action more intimate than you liked to admit. Like he was afraid of breaking you.

"You do know what you're asking for, right?" He whispered against your temple, carefully moving to the shell of your ear. "I don't wanna pressure you into anything."

"I—" You paused, trying to ignore the shivers trickling down your spine. "I want this."

"Are you sure?"

"Sae," you whined. Was he teasing you again? Your chin tilted to face him, your gaze softening at his unsure one. It was so uncharacteristic of him. Completely unlike the impassive boy you grew up with.

"M'sure."

"Okay," he nodded, cheek softly nuzzling against yours. "You're in charge then."

You weren't so sure what he meant, but your eyes shut and carefully found his lips. His kiss was slow and carnal, nose brushing the side of your own and large hands snaking around your waist. He squeezed you so softly, as if it were afraid of your departure, and held you close. So close that his breath felt like your own.

Your hips lifted to accommodate his hands, sliding to paw at your ass. His tongue gently prodded in the expanse of your mouth, darting around before stilling just at the tip of yours.

A noise of confusion escaped your throat as you scrunched his collar.

Sae hummed, laughing quietly against your mouth. "C'mon, kiss me too. You wanted this, right?"

The thought made you squirm beneath him, hands gripping tighter. He gently grasped your wrists and redirected them over his shoulders, coaxing you further.

"Wan' you." You whispered, arms wrapping around his neck. "I do wan' you."

Your lips reconnect, this time slipping into the cavern of his mouth and rolling your tongue against his. The wet friction sent shocks of electricity between your legs. Your tongue prodded behind his teeth before licking the roof of his mouth.

"Don't get shy on me now," he whispered. "Get your tongue deeper."

Your tongue pushed deeper at his words. So warm. So nasty. So fucking good.

He hummed, lips sensually following the pace of your own, hands grazing whatever he could touch. His tongue dragged over yours to poke your inner cheek, laughing when you whined and pulled him closer.

You pulled away breathlessly, only disrupted from his lips chasing yours into one last, searing kiss.

"Sae—" You gasped.

He gently pecked your lips. "Sorry. Got carried away."

You panted, temple pressed against his cheek as you caught your breath. Your thighs rubbed together from the hot ache between your legs, sparking with each fleeting second.

"You're wet, aren't you?"

Your head tilted up, your eyes widening at him. "What?"

Sae was breathless and debauched, his lips swollen and wet from your own, magenta hair dishevelled from your hands, almost revealing the baby bangs he liked to hide after turning sixteen.

"Here," two fingers shakily slipped past to press against your clothed pussy. "Feels good, right?"

You squirmed, fingers clasping around his wrist. "T-That feels good."

"You want me to help you?" He panted, softly thumbing your clothed slit. "You can say no."

"No— I mean, yes."

You paused, eyes darting to the sheets instead of his curious gaze. "...Do you have a condom?"

He was at your place, after all. And frankly, you were gravely underprepared for this kind of situation.

"Idiot," he laughed, fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts. "We won't be needing that for a while."

The chill of the AC hit your skin when Sae tugged your shorts over your ankle, fingers smoothing over your clothed mound.

"Hm," he mused, tapping his index over the wet patch of your panties. "You're really wet."

His digits were twitching over your pussy, hooking beneath the edge of the cotton fabric. Like the urge to push your panties to the side was killing him.

A flush crept down your neck, gaze settling on the sheets. "No—No shit."

He made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, tapping over a particularly sensitive part of yours—one stationed above your hole, twitching when he rubbed it.

Your hips jolted at his touch, his index slowly circling the beady sweet spot. "Mm!—"

Then, his hand pulled away, moving to the curve of your ass. With a gentle tug, he hooked your panties' waistband down. "Up."

Your hips lifted as he tugged away the last remnant of privacy you had. Any semblance of comfort washed away from the cold air and his lingering gaze, the fabric hooking over the same ankle your shorts were.

"Hey, relax." Sae clicked his tongue when you squirmed, his warm hand moving to rest on your knee. "Eyes on me."

You tried to listen, focusing on his collarbones, his shirt, and fragments of his messy hair, but nothing worked. You couldn't meet his gaze, not when he stared at you so intently. Not when he could see every part of you. Not when his fingertips moved to press against your entrance.

Was this really what you imagined fucking Sae would be like? Not like you had imagined it or anything, just out of curiosity. He was never open about his personal life, but it was obvious that there was a side of him you've never seen. The weird phone calls. The weird disappearances. Hearing him curse and belittle others was the normal kind of crudeness you were used to with Sae. It was no doubt he was gentler with you—softer with you.

So to hear him be so blatantly vulgar?

He inched closer, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

"You say you want me," he started. "Then you do shit like this."

It was bewildering.

You fiddled with your fingers before finally tilting your head to face him, swearing you saw the faintest hint of a smile when he dipped the tip of his middle finger inside.

"Mm, good."

Something like a whimper escaped from your lips, unaware that you were actually able to make those kinds of noises. "S-Shit."

His brows furrowed as his finger gently prodded at your entrance. "You're—" Sae bit his inner cheek pensively, stilling his digits. "You're a little too tight."

You winced, feeling your hole stretch around his finger. "I-It hurts."

He immediately withdrew his finger. "You've touched yourself before, right?"

"Um, yeah? Not really, like this—"

Sae smoothed his hand along the underside of your thigh—an attempt to soothe you. But his eyes were wide and... chiding? "Why didn't you tell me that before?"

"Okay, well, I don't know how this works!"

"Oh my god." He sighed before sitting back. "C'mere."

You chuckled nervously. "To do what?"

"To do it yourself," he chided. "C'mon."

That's when you found yourself in an embarrassingly exposed position, settled right on Sae's lap, his knees stationed right between yours, spreading your legs.

"Can't believe you wanted to fuck before even masturbating..." He murmured, chin hooked over your shoulder.

You swallowed thickly, head turning away. So vulgar. "It's not m'fault I didn't know."

"It's not your fault. Should've prepped you better."

You huffed softly. "So why do I have to do it?"

"Because," his hand gently clasped over your dominant hand's wrist, snaking it down your exposed abdomen. "There's no way someone at our age hasn't touched themselves before."

"I have. Just not..."

"Fingering?"

Your ears burnt. "It hurts."

"Because you're not relaxed or turned on enough." He brought your index finger to rest over your sensitive bud. "This is your clit. Feels good to almost any kind of touch. Be gentle with it."

You bit your inner cheek, watching his hand guide you to rub your clit in slow circles. "I know what a clit is."

"...Nice to know that's the only thing you've touched in the past nineteen years."

Your head snapped towards his. "Hey!"

He snickered, ignoring your huff. "So, if you want to cum..."

His lips ghosted over your ear, whispering softly. "Touch here. Rub there. Doesn't matter. But you could always..."

A soft whine escaped your throat as his hand guides you down further, stopping right at your entrance. "Make yourself feel good here."

Before you knew it, your middle finger was already dipping between your folds and inside your hole.

"Oh my god," you mumbled, brows furrowing. "Sae."

He hummed lowly. "Like that, go slow. It's good, hm?"

"S'good." you murmured, your finger now entirely inside.

"Feels even better when you curl your fingers."

Your brow twitched at his words, following curiously. "Wha... Okay."

His lips trailed down to the spot under your ear, kissing and sucking on the skin softly. "What do you usually think about when you touch yourself?"

His hand tapped the back of your own as you panted. "You."

It came out quicker than you expected, and in all honesty, it didn't even register properly from all the haze. But it was weird that after every call, every time you met Sae, you couldn't help touching yourself later that night.

It was something about his drawled voice, or the contour of his skin, or the flawlessness of his lashes or the chisel of his jaw. Or maybe it was his body, sculpted from divinity itself?

His breath hitched at your admission, fingers twitching over your hand.

You whined, pulling your finger out to push it back inside, curling to hit a sweet spot that made your toes curl. "I always think of you."

Something stiff throbbed against your ass cheek.

Your breath caught in your throat. Then, he bit down on your neck. Harder. "Ow—"

Sae seared your lips in a fervent kiss—all tongue and teeth and the intimate squeeze of your waist. He drank down every noise you made, panting against your mouth, swirling his tongue along yours.

"Let me help you," he panted, shaky fingers moving to gently pinch your clit. "Need to help you."

You moaned into his mouth, hips jolting from his touch. "S-Sae."

"Two fingers, you can do that, right?"

Swallowing thickly, you panted over his lips as he pecked you. "Mm—"

"C'mon," he muttered, pressing wanton kisses down your jaw. "Gonna make you feel s'good."

You pressed your ring finger to your entrance, pushing in slowly, wincing. "Hurts, Sae."

"Shh," he hushed against your cheek. "You can take it."

His index and middle rubbed against your puffy clit in a desperate side-to-side motion. Brows twitching with each passing second, he panted heavily. Your hips lifted in shock, fingers instinctively curling inside you.

Oh, you hit that good spot. It was spongy and rigid and oh so sweet.

You moaned, head thrown back over his shoulder. "Ah..."

"That's—" he sputtered, fingers continuing their relentless attack. "That's your g-spot. Should feel different from the rest of ya. Should feel really good."

Wet noises filled the room as you pistoned your fingers in and out of your hole, bracing yourself atop your best friend. Even though he was talking in your ear, breathy and hot as he always did, nothing registered. Every sense you had was being replaced by the overwhelming sensation of sweet bliss, your jaw slack and eyes shut.

"Curl your fingers more. Yeah, like that, deeper. Shit, you're—"

You whimpered, hips jerking as he continued to rub and roll your clit. "Sae, think m'gonna do that thing where I... F-Fuck."

He let out a quiet whine against your shoulder. "You are?"

"Y-Yeah, aren't y-you supposed to be the expert?"

"Sh— Shut up."

Just as something hot and unbelievably euphoric was about to snap, his fingers pulled away, panting harshly over your shoulder.

You huffed, your brain foggy. "Wha... Why?

"Not yet," he muttered. "Not yet."

Before you knew it, he flipped you onto your back, hovering over you. "You sure this is your first time masturbating?"

He pecked your lips, descending to your chest, pressing soft kisses to your clothed nipples and down your stomach. "You're pretty good at it."

"Pretty good?" you murmured, jolting every time he kissed your stiffening buds. "Thank you?"

His low-lidded gaze flitted down to your drenched slit, lips spasming at the sight.

You frowned as he settled between your thighs. "Sae, no."

"No more?"

"No," you shook your head, hand scrambling to tug at his collar. "I didn't do anything for you."

"...You don't need to."

You huffed, spotting the tent in his sweats. "Don't lie."

"M'being serious," he grabbed your hand, pressing a hot kiss to your palm. "I want to do this."

You sputtered at his words, embarrassed that he was inching so close to your bare pussy. Panting, you whined. "Do what?"

"Eat you out."

"What? Oh my god, that is so—" you stammered. "So embarrassing!"

His hands smoothed over your inner thighs, spreading them apart. "No, it's not."

"Yes it is. Sae, get up!"

He huffed as you pulled at his collar again, his sigh blowing warm air over your wet folds, making you yelp.

"How about this?" He reached for the blanket urged aside. "You see a blanket instead of me. Way better, right?"

You huffed. "You say that like I don't want to see you..."

"Isn't that what that is?"

"I don't want you to see me!"

"But you're so pretty." He pressed a kiss right on your clit, making you jolt. "And so sweet."

Your ears burnt as he pressed another kiss on your slit and another on your entrance.

"Okay, okay. We'll use the blanket."

"Alright," he hummed, pressing one last kiss to your clit again.

"Fun."

It was weird, feeling the ghost of his breath but only seeing a broad figure under your blanket.

Your legs were spread over his shoulders, thighs marked with soft kisses and bites Sae spent minutes on perfecting, murmuring something almost biblical to himself.

Then, you felt his fingers spread your lips in a V-shape, letting your head fall back on the cushions.

One breath.

Then, the second.

And on the third, still, nothing came.

"What are you doing down there?!" You whined, heel digging into his defined back.

You were only met with silence, but from the hot wave of air, you knew he was annoyed.

You scrunched your nose. So typical of him.

Then, he spoke from under the blanket. Low and teasing. "Your clit is all puffy."

"...What?"

He leaned down, pressed his lips to the bud and whispered. "And you smell s'good."

Then, his tongue licked a slow strip from your weeping hole all the way to your sensitive bud. The entirely new sensation washing over you in ways you could never imagine, your teeth catching your bottom lip.

"Oh, fuck. Sae..." Your hand reached under the blanket, tangling in his magenta locks.

His tongue slowly swirled around your clit, switching to softer kitten licks, slowly bobbing his head. You whined, thighs clamping around his head. "Ah— t'much!"

Your thighs squeezed shut around his head, so close that your knees grazed each other and the sweat from his hair smeared against your thighs. Sae huffed and wrapped his lips around your sensitive bud, slurping it into his mouth harshly.

You moaned sweetly, cheek pressing against the cushioning. "F-Fuck!"

Finally, you loosened up enough for him to catch your thighs off guard. His fingers dug into the plushness and pushed them apart, all the way until your knees hit the cushions.

"Too much?" Sae hummed, spitting into your messy hole. "You're so dramatic."

Dramatic? He was the one seriously overwhelming you!

His tongue webbed out, swirling around your entrance before licking up your folds. Spreading your labia with his tongue in a firm, upward lick, soothing the fold with soft, barely-there kisses.

Then, he sealed his mouth over your entire pussy.

"Sae," you whimpered, fingers pulling his hair in warning. "Don't even think about it."

A soft huff vibrated against your folds, his snicker evident. His thumb gently rubbed your thigh like some kind of apology. Then, he sucked your pussy in one, harsh motion.

"Oh my god—" you cried, thighs struggling to close against his strong grip. "C-Can't!"

"Mm," he murmured against your folds, his tongue moving to swirl around your entrance again, the tip gently prodding its way inside. "You can."

Your fingers sharply pulled at his hair. "S-Sae!"

He grumbled, the vibrations sending tremors into your pussy. "Stop movin'."

"Can't," your eyes squeezed shut when his tongue pushed in, firmly licking your sweet spot. "Sae, I c-can't."

Sae's tongue withdrew, soothing your pussy with wet, apologetic kisses, lips pressing over your inner thighs. "Why? What's wrong?"

You panted, fingers still gripping his hair. "...I told you I can't."

"Can't what?" he hummed, thumb reaching to rub your clit in slow circles. "Cum?"

"Cum." Your cheeks burnt at the word. "No, I do wanna cum."

He panted harsh breaths against your thigh and pussy, the oxygen levels decreasing by the minute under the blanket. "You're pissing me off. You say wanna cum, but you can't take it?"

"H-How is that my fault?"

He grabbed the edge of the blanket, pulling it aside. His bangs were all sweaty and pushed back over the rest of his hair. Sweat beaded at his temples, some reaching down his neck.

And his lips quivered, his entire mouth drenched with your wet slick, smeared over his cheeks and nose. Sae huffed lowly, cerulean gaze focused on the cushions, catching his breath. "M'going as slow as I can."

"I-I'm trying to keep up with you."

He scoffed. "...Yeah 'course you are."

You huffed. "I don't like your attitude."

"Okay then," he retorted, eyes threatening to roll. "So stay still. I'm not using a blanket this time."

Your breath hitched as he settled between your legs again, fingers tracing circles over your hips.

"And," he hummed. "M'not letting you hide."

Before you could process what that meant, he steadied his hands over your hips and flipped you onto your stomach. You could only see the open window from this view. Not Sae. Not a blanket. Nothing.

Your feet kicked squeamishly, though it didn't help much. "Wait!— This is so embarrassing—"

His lips found the seam between your thigh and ass, pressing a soft kiss to the warm skin. "Hn, stop squirming."

"How can I?" You buried your face in your hands. "You can literally see everything and I wanna die—"

You were cut off with a soft moan, his thumbs spreading your lips to slurp up your dripping hole, tongue prodding into your hole. His fingers dug into your ass cheeks, groping it harsher—needier.

"Fuck," he groaned softly, kissing down your folds until he found your sensitive bud. He sealed his lips around it before sucking fervently, noises growing as you squirmed. "Fuck, fuck. You taste s'good."

He almost growled into your cunt, moving to press kisses to your ass cheeks, softly biting down on the flesh.

Your hand wrings back to grab at him—his shirt, his shoulder—to be met with a firm hand clasping your wrist. He pinned it to the couch as he leaned down again, lapping his tongue over and over at your clit.

He was breathing—panting so hard that his exhaling puffed air into your hole. "S-Sae!" You moaned softly into the cushioning. "Oh my god—Sae!"

Something warm tightened in your abdomen. It was hot and electric and aching to explode, just like the times when you'd touch yourself, but this was much more. So much more.

You panted into the cushions, soft moans and whines escaping you as he ate your pussy. He was relentless; he always was, but this was a different kind. Sae could do anything, say anything, but when he promised you pleasure and brought you heaven?

Holy shit, it was too much that you could go crazy any second now.

"Let me tell you somethin'," he broke your thoughts, murmuring as his tongue slid out of your hole. "When you feel something so good you think you'll go crazy. Say you're cummin'."

"I-I know what that is."You whined, seeing that sort of language in the porn you read and watched, but not exactly knowing when to use it. "I think."

He muffled a scoff against your cunt, switching to long, firm licks up your entire pussy. "Wow. Genius over here."

You felt the warmth spread down your stomach to your thighs and cunt and clit and everywhere, fingers clawing into the cushioning. "Okay! Okay, I'm... M'cummin!"

You could feel his brow quirk, lips ghosting over your clit. "You're what?"

You were close, so close to the pressure releasing. But now, your cheeks were burning because Sae couldn't help but bully you about sex language. "I'm... I'm—"

He smiled against your pussy, the curve faint but there, and wrapped his lips around your bud one last time, flattening his tongue and sucking harshly—so harsh you could see stars.

"M'cummin'!"

White dots skewed your vision, and you swore you had died just now, but the pressure released, getting licked softly from Sae's tongue.

But oh, it still felt so good after you came, grinding onto his wet muscle. "Ah, Sae..."

His tongue stilled as you ground on his face, fingers digging into your ass cheeks harder. "Now's the time you get eager?"

"Sh— Shut up." You whined as he freed your wrist. "Oh my god."

He began to lap again, a little softer but pleasing against your puffy clit. "Mm," he hummed. "You came this time."

"I already told you— I know what that is—"

He slurped your clit into his mouth, the sensation all too overwhelming for your current senses. "Ah!"

"I know you know. Just telling you." Sae said, pressing one last gentle kiss to your bud before pulling away.

You panted against the cushions, only now realising the drool pooling in your mouth. Your ass was still perched in the air, your whole body dripping from sweat.

Sae swallowed thickly at the sight, his own erection throbbing against the cushions.

He didn't want to overstep; he really didn't. Sae was your best friend. Someone your mom entrusted to you. Someone you'd watch romance anime with. Someone who purposely didn't laugh at your jokes, just to see you get angry,

But you tasted so fucking sweet. Your noises were so pretty, so alluring. He'd have to die before leaving his place between your legs.

And you kept arching like it was his responsibility to teach you. Touch you. Make you cum over and over until you couldn't think of anyone else but him.

And maybe as your best friend, the boy you knew since you were in diapers?

It was.

"One more." His hand moved to grope your ass cheeks again, flipping you onto your back. "Give me one more. I know you can. Just one more."

"Wha?... Sae." You whined, so clearly fucked out, not even bothering to glance at him.

"You can do it," he whispered, leaning down to press several shaky kisses to your wet folds.

"For me. C'mon."

BONUS!

The summer after you graduated high school, you found yourself back at home in Kamakura. The weather was scorching, sweat beading down your neck as you stared at the ceiling. Your feet were perched over the side of your bed, back pressed against your cool floor.

"Did you finish?" you murmured, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Sitting on the floor against your bed was Sae, who had come back from Madrid to spend the summer with family. Frankly, in the past three weeks he had been here, he had not spent one day with his family.

Well, maybe aside from his mom, but everyone liked Mrs Itoshi. Besides her, he always had some lame excuse to work out, go on a jog, meet someone, go to Tokyo, or spend time with you.

You didn't mind, really. It just meant summers were meant for Sae.

"Shut up, m'almost done." He said, checking off the boxes on his phone. He wore a black T-shirt, legs crossed in a pair of basketball shorts, accentuating the muscles he had been gaining over the past few years.

Was it weird to stare?

Your head tilted faintly, settling on his concentrated face. He had been getting pretty good-looking recently, a little more than you'd like to admit. Since last year, he's been pushing his bangs back. His bangs were cute—almost childlike, but him with this new style... It certainly brought out his blessed facial structure and his lashes. Also, the glowiness of his skin—

Oh my god, ew, that sounds so dick hungry.

And that was certainly not towards Sae Itoshi.

"Done," Sae tilted his phone towards you, a bright red sixty-four illuminating from his screen.

"What the fuck have you been doing in Spain?" You immediately propped yourself up, snatching his phone. "A rice purity of sixty-four?"

He shrugged. "Why would I tell you?"

"Last year when you came back, it was like, an eighty-seven."

"Things change."

"Whore."

Sae rolled his eyes, taking his phone back. "You'll get there one day."

You scrunched your nose as he petted your hair—outwardly affectionate, but you knew he was being annoying.

"I don't wanna be like you." You swat his hand away. "I am totally okay with my ninety-two. Totally okay."

He stared at you blankly. "...Riiight."

You whined, sighing. "Maybe I'm not, but will that day come any sooner?"

"Y'know, in order to get some, you have to...put yourself out there. Talk to people. Flirt."

"Oh, fuck off," you reached to pinch his side, grinning when he groaned.

"You're too old to be doing this."

"We're eighteen, dumbass."

He grumbled, efficiently moving four feet away from you. "Wonder who your first kiss is gonna be, or somethin'. I feel bad for him."

Then, Sae groaned again when you threw a pillow at his face.

pyroami 2026

[pisskuna]

realized this was way too noncon for the main blog so. dubcon / noncon. also dacryphilia. size kink if you squint (duh, it’s nagi). oh, piss too! hooray!

nagi who’s fucking into you deeply, cock kissing your cervix with every thrust. he’s so lost into the pleasure he’s barely taking note of your words, one hand pushing weakly at his stomach. it just makes him press more of his weight into you, rocking his hips forward harshly as you choke on a moan, eyes rolling as you attempt to speak once more.

“s-sei—oh—seishiro wait, please. . . !”

and nagi hums, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, but continues pounding into your overstimulated cunt, shuddering when he hears the wet squelch of his cock ruining your insides. when you claw at his back—the pain barely registering—is when his hips slow, still rocking into you, but much more gently now.

“sei—” you gasp, as if this tempo makes it worse, your body squirming beneath him, but his hips keep you pinned to the bed. nagi’s lips slide across your flesh, smearing kisses along your throat before brushing your ear, his heavy groans stuttering against your skin as he exhales shakily.

“what’s wrong, hm?” nagi’s basically got you folded in half, thighs spreading wider, forcing yours to stretch that much more, and he knows you’ll be aching tomorrow. he likes having you like this, crushed against him with nowhere to go as he pulls pleasure from your body til you’re shaking from the intensity of it all. likes when your nails scratch at his scalp, teeth sinking into his shoulder when you can’t take it anymore.

he’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t hear your next words at first, but when they register, it makes him groan, a deep, primal thing unlike him.

“seishiro, i need to pee!” you squeal, pushing at his shoulders now, trying your hardest to get your boyfriend’s heavy body off of you. something in nagi snaps, and he’s leaning back, hands finding your hips, eyes dark, gaze heavy with pure arousal. and his cock throbs painfully where it’s nestled deep inside you at seeing you on the verge of tears, breasts bouncing with each thrust, head thrown back against the pillow.

your mouth parts in a gasp, his name lost on your tongue as he buries himself deeper, each drive of his hips more forceful than the last. nagi’s gone, mind focused on the image of you pissing yourself on his cock from being fucked so thoroughly. he doesn’t even notice your weak attempts at pushing against his lower stomach, the muscles jumping under your touch.

he needs it. needs to see you ruin yourself in such a shameful, beautiful way. so when you slap at his stomach, a sharp hiss slipping through his teeth, pleas of “stop”, “too much”, “need to—” leaving your lips, he releases your hips to grab at your wrists, but you shift your hands, sweaty palms sliding against each other’s. it turns into a desperate standoff—your fingers interlaced, pushing back and forth. nagi feels how hard you’re fighting him, putting all your strength into it, but with a singular shifting of weight into his arms, he’s got your hands pinned flat to to the pillow beneath your head.

for a long minute neither of you two move, his chest rising and falling, his cock pulsing where it’s still buried inside you, movements halted during your scuffle.

“seishiro,” you sniffle, fingers flexing against his, and his vision blurs when your pussy clenches down on his length after he gives a soft roll of his hips. “i need to go. . .”

the way your tears gather along your lashes, and you lips appear swollen from you biting into them, makes arousal tug in his gut, thrusts slowly becoming heavier once more. his large frame looms over yours, knowing you’re helpless to do anything about it.

“just let me—” his tongue darts out to wet his dry lips, sweat trailing down his temple as he fucks into you harsher now, the headboard rattling against the wall. your thighs are trembling against him, chest rising and falling heavily, he can tell you’re on the brink of wetting yourself. that the pleasure is becoming too much, the pressure inside of you building to a boiling point. “let me have this, please.”

dark eyes are locked onto where you’re connected, nagi’s pace turning desperate as your cries grow louder, body thrashing beneath him. he can’t tell if you’re trying to run away from his thrusts or give in. all that matters to him is seeing you come undone.

“please, please, please,” he doesn’t even hear himself chanting under his breath, his rhythm breaking off into something frantic and wild, hips snapping into yours with a force that would be sure to leave bruises along your inner thighs. and then it happens, a broken sob ripped from your throat as the first wave of heat washes over you. and nagi groans deep within his chest, hips stuttering sloppily against yours as your piss soaks the both of you, the sounds coming from between your legs the most obscene thing he’s ever heard.

the sight of you crying and losing control does him in, his hips giving a final powerful thrust against your core, rope after rope of cum filling up your pussy as you continue to piss, trembling thighs splayed wide, eyes rolling to the back of your head. slowly the flood tapers to a gentle trickle, your whole body shuddering in relief, lashes lowered as nagi’s hands squeeze yours one final time before he collapses against you, the pure air knocked from your lungs.

it’s immediate, large hands releasing yours to hold your face, thumbs smoothing across your cheeks, “‘m sorry,” he murmurs, leaning down to slot his lips over yours, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss. every bit of an apology is poured into the kiss, eyes clenched shut waiting to see if you would return it. a soft sigh gently brushes your face when your hands come up to tangle in his hair, brushing the sweaty strands away from his forehead as you kiss him back.

nagi doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s already planning out ways to get you to lose control again.

[laiaera]

𝓘toshi 𝓢ae, he’s so needy when he’s fucking you.

𝓜inors 𝐃𝐍𝐈. (18+)

“fuck—“ he pants out as he’s fucking you from behind. the smell of his expensive musky cologne filling your senses. one hand is on your hip and the other gripping your ass tightly with spanks here and there.

“so fucking tight for me,” he grunts out as he thrusts deeper into you. his heavy balls slapping your ass with every thrust he makes— his head thrown back panting as he chases his release.

“fuccckk. m’ gonna cum. you gonna let me fill you?” he breathes out as he leans forward licking your neck, the feeling of his breath making your body feel tingly. you nod making him moan in pleasure before spilling his hot thick load into you.

he flips you around to face him caressing your face gently. his cheeks flushed and sweat dripping from his forehead. he guides your hand to caress his abs letting out a groan biting his lower lip. “baby…” he breathes out almost pathetically. “hm…?” you answer blinking up at him waiting for his response. “…m’ still hard…” your eyes drop down to his thick hard cock twitching and dripping in anticipation. the head swollen and red making your body feel hot and tingly all over again.

“ngh… let me fuck you again, yeah? i made all those goals for you…” he’s already leaning closer to you grinding his cock against your thigh as he moans softly, the warmth and wetness grinding against your leg turns you on like crazy before grabbing him by his necklace and pulling him into a passionate kiss.

he moans into the kiss moving his hands to caress your shoulders and waist as he continues to grind against you before pulling away and attacking your neck by licking and sucking it. “mmm…” he whimpers against your neck leaving marks anywhere he can, because he’s possessive like that.

© 𝓦horeifyy

i’m crine i went MIA for a few days because 1, i had no writing ideas and i was on tinder for fun and that shit has corrupted me. i’ve found so many dadas and fine shyt

[lumiambrose]

thigh highs and thin ice ft. multiple blue lock men

・❥・smut mdni ever wondered what a pair of thigh highs do to a man?

ft. sae, rin, isagi, nagi, bunny, kaiser, aiku

itoshi sae

sae notices immediately and says absolutely nothing. just catches the way the lace band cuts into the soft top of your thigh and files it away. dangerous and quiet about it, which is worse.

he's not a leg man specifically but you in thigh highs does something to him that he genuinely resents. it's the gap. that sliver of bare skin between the hem of your skirt and the stocking top. drives him insane and he'd rather die than tell you.

will find an excuse to be physically close to you within like ten minutes. his hand will find the back of your thigh like it always does but this time his fingers drag slower, catching on the lace edge. deliberate.

cold face but oh so warm hands. he'll run his thumb under the band just to feel the indent it leaves in your skin, his jaw tightens. still not saying anything. guess you're going to have to pry a reaction out of him.

if you catch him staring he holds eye contact and raises one brow. like yeah, and? unbothered ahh except for the fact that he's been half hard for the last twenty minutes.

"come here." two simple words, but who are you to deny dear sae? he takes his time, both hands on your thighs, thumbs tracing up the stocking material until he hits the lace band and just stops there, pressing into the indent it's left in your skin all day. "you knew," he says. flat. not an accusation. just a fact. then he pushes your skirt up and puts his mouth on that exact strip of bare skin above the lace, warm and slow. and when he finally slides your underwear aside and pushes two fingers into you he keeps his mouth there, curling them forward, watching you from below with heavy eyes while you grip his shoulder and try not to shake apart.

"you're going to come like this first," he says against your inner thigh, lace edge pressed against his cheek. "then we'll see about the rest." the smirk that follows is the most expression you'll get out of him all night. but his fingers won't stop until he's proven he means every word of it.

itoshi rin

rin stares and doesn't even pretend not to. zero shame. his eyes just drop straight to your legs and stay there for a genuinely uncomfortable amount of time.

gets weird and quiet and irritable about it. like he's mad at you for looking like that. will scoff and mutter something about you being annoying. classic behavior. he's literally just flustered and projecting.

can't stop touching you once he starts. he's a physical person with you anyway but the thigh highs make him almost obsessive about it, hands always gravitating to that specific band of lace like a magnet.

if you tease him about noticing, he grabs your thigh hard enough to make you squeak and just squeezes, staring you down. "shut up." eloquent as always.

the inner thigh thing kills him specifically. the softness there, the way the stocking ends and bare skin starts. he will put his mouth on that exact spot with zero preamble if given the opportunity.

rin puts you on your back, pushes your skirt up, and gets his mouth on the inside of your thigh right at the lace band without any preamble whatsoever. he just bites down, not gentle and you arch off the mattress. his hands pin your hips flat and he sucks a bruise into the soft flesh just above the stocking top, nose pressed against the lace, jaw working, before he hooks his thumbs into your underwear and drags it down, leaving the stockings exactly in place. he looks up at you from between your thighs with that flat dark expression. "these are stupid," he says before putting his mouth on your cunt, eating you out like he's been thinking about it all day (which he has). tongue relentless on your clit and two fingers curling inside you while the lace edge scratches against his cheek with every movement of his head.

when you come he doesn't stop, works you through it until you're twisting away, and even then he just presses one last biting kiss to the inside of your thigh and sits up. looks at you, completely wrecked, thigh highs still perfectly in place. "annoying," he mutters, and reaches down to undo his belt.

yoichi isagi

isagi does a genuine double take. like actually has to look away and look back. sweet boy is not subtle, his whole face goes red immediately. it's adorable and also a little devastating.

fumbles his words for a solid minute after noticing. trying to have a normal conversation with you and completely losing his train of thought mid sentence because you shifted and the skirt moved a little.

he gets fixated on the lace specifically. keeps glancing at it. he doesn't even know what he wants to do about it yet, he's just… very aware of it. spatially. it takes up a lot of real estate in his brain.

isagi is a please-touch-me-first kind of guy normally but the thigh highs rewire something. he actually reaches out and touches them, like he's asking permission with the gesture, fingers just barely grazing the stocking material. "these are… nice," he manages. ground swallowing him whole.

the response he least expects is how loud his brain gets about the gap of bare skin. he thinks about it later when he's lying in bed staring at the ceiling.

"can i just," isagi starts and doesn't finish, cheeks already pink, hands on your thighs with his thumbs right at the lace edge. you part your legs for him and something in him relaxes and ignites at the same time. he pushes your skirt up slow, watching his own hands like he can't believe he's doing this, and when the bare strip of thigh above the stockings comes into view he exhales this quiet "god." he gets his mouth on that strip of skin and drags it slow and warm, fingers sliding your underwear aside, working you open careful and thorough because isagi when he finally gets going is relentless about making sure you feel good. "you're so," he starts, and stops, and tries again while his fingers curl inside you. "you feel so good, i can't, i"

he keeps the stockings on while he fucks you, both hands gripping that bare strip above the lace like it's the only thing he can think to hold onto, flushed and overwhelmed, forehead dropping to your knee. he thinks about it for weeks.

seishiro nagi

nagi blinks at your legs for a long moment, tilts his head slightly and goes "oh." that's it. that's his whole reaction. except he keeps looking back at your legs every like ninety seconds.

it's not that he's performing indifference, he genuinely processes things slowly. but something about the thigh highs sticks. he brings them up twenty minutes later, totally unprompted, while you're both doing completely different things. "those stockings are nice."

lazy tactile guy. will end up with his head in your lap eventually and will absolutely just… start messing with the lace band while he lies there. picking at it, stretching it, completely absentminded about it. doesn't connect that it's driving you insane.

if you're gaming together he'll pull your leg over his lap and just rest his hand on your thigh. the stocking material is apparently a texture he likes because he keeps rubbing his thumb back and forth over it. very soothing. to him. you are not soothed.

when he gets into it properly he's slow and thorough about it. he wants to leave marks above the stocking band specifically, like his own little detail that exists in that exposed triangle of skin. doesn't explain why. just does it.

nagi sets his controller down and runs his fingers along the top of the stocking band, slow, like he's taking an inventory. when you make a sharp sound at the snap of lace against your skin his eyes come up to your face and something shifts in them. "oh," he says. quieter this time. he gets you lying back, tilts his head, trails his fingers from your knee up to the lace band on one leg then the other like he's checking they match, satisfied and then puts his mouth on the inside of your thigh and starts sucking a bruise into the skin there while his fingers slide your underwear down. he goes down on you the same way he does everything, slow and thorough, tongue working your clit in long flat strokes while one hand stays at the lace band, thumb pressing into the indent it's left in your skin.

after, he looks at the marks he left above the stockings and presses his thumb into one of them, gentle. "soft," he says, satisfied. then he reaches for his controller.

iglesias bunny

bunny's reaction is immediate and dramatic and delightful. lets out a low whistle, grins like he just won something. "okay, hello." fully shameless about it.

he's a comments-about-it openly kind of guy. will tell you your legs look incredible, will gesture vaguely at the whole situation and say "what do you think you're doing to me right now, genuinely." theatrical about it but he means every word.

the gap of skin between the stocking top and your skirt is his enemy and his best friend. he keeps touching it, fingers brushing that edge with this grin like he knows exactly what he's doing.

he'll drop to a crouch in front of you for some reason, like he needs to be at eye level with your legs specifically, and look up at you while his hands rest on your knees. the eye contact from that angle is a menace.

bunny talks during everything but he talks more when he's this visually stimulated. there will be commentary. detailed commentary. you asked for this by wearing them.

"i need you to know," bunny says, grinning up at you from where he's kneeling between your legs, "that i've been thinking about this since the second you walked in." he pushes your skirt up, drags his lips along the inside of your thigh right at the lace edge and then puts his mouth on you without further comment, loud and enthusiastic about it, groaning against your cunt like you're something he's been denied, thumbs pressing into that bare strip of skin above the stocking tops. "this what you wanted, yeah? wanted me on my knees for you?" he glances up, eyes bright, fingers pumping slow. you tell him to shut up but don't stop. "rude," a simple reply. but he obliges, happily, and goes back to work.

when you come he gentles off slow. pressing soft open-mouthed kisses to your inner thigh and then to the lace band itself, then sits back and pushes his hair out of his face. "told you," he says, grinning. "been thinking about it all day."

michael kaiser

kaiser's reaction is this slow, appreciative top-to-bottom look that makes you feel like you're being appraised. slight smile. he says "mm" like you've confirmed something he already suspected about himself.

he is absolutely the type to make a whole thing of it. very vocal, very deliberate, will absolutely say something like "well, you're clearly trying to get attention, so here it is." and then give you his full undivided and terrifying focus.

the possessiveness spikes immediately. something about the thigh highs makes him want to mark every visible inch of skin above the band. likes the idea of you being visually perfect in every other way except for the bruises he left on the inside of your thigh.

uses it against you. will let his hand slide up your skirt just to the lace band and stop there, totally calm, watching your face while you squirm. he finds your reactions to his restraint genuinely entertaining.

gets intensely focused during sex when you're wearing them. keeps them on. absolutely keeps them on. something about you otherwise undone and still wearing the thigh highs, that small composed detail against the complete mess of everything else, genuinely does something unhinged to him.

"keep them on," kaiser had said and he meant it. you're on your back, skirt gone, top shoved up, an absolute wreck and the stockings are still perfectly in place because that is clearly the point. he's buried in you to the hilt and not moving yet, just watching your face with that focused terrifying calm while you beg him to move. "not yet, dear," and drags his lips along your throat and keeps his hands on your thighs right above the lace bands, thumbs pressing bruises into the bare skin there. he fucks you slow on purpose when he finally does move, deep grinding rolls that make your legs shake, stilling every time you try to rush him, amused. "you're going to take everything i give you." when he finally lets you come he looks down at where you're joined, at the lace bands still bright against your skin, at the bruises his thumbs have put into the soft flesh above them, and something in his expression goes briefly, uncharacteristically undone. "look at you," he breathes. afterward, once he's collected himself, he presses one kiss to each bruise above the band. "next time," he says, "wear them with nothing else."

oliver aiku

aiku is a grown man who has absolutely been around enough to play it cool and he still can't quite manage it when you show up like this. he does this thing where he grins and looks away briefly, like he needs a second to collect himself. very cute on a man that big.

very complimentary about it, in that warm genuine aiku way. "you look gorgeous, sweetheart" but his eyes are already on your legs when he says it. he means both things simultaneously.

he's handsy at baseline and the thigh highs make it worse, hand always finding your thigh in public, thumb absently tracing the lace band through your skirt like he can feel where it is. possessive without even thinking about it.

size kink is very present here. big hands against the back of your thigh, fingers wrapping around easily, the contrast of his rough palms against the soft stocking material. he's very aware of it.

likes to slide his hand under your skirt and run his fingers along the very top of the stocking while you're doing something completely mundane, just to watch you lose your composure.

aiku gets you up on the kitchen counter and stands between your knees with his big hands running slow from your thighs to your calves and back, just feeling the stockings under his palms, before he pushes your skirt up and puts his mouth on that strip of bare skin between hem and lace and takes his time there, unhurried, laughing warm and low against your leg every time you try to pull him where you actually need him. "patience, sweetheart." when he finally gets his fingers inside you he's good at it, careful and thorough in the way that big men with steady hands tend to be. he fucks you on the counter with the stockings on, hands gripping your thighs right at the lace bands, head dropped to your shoulder, the lace scratching lightly against his hips every time he pushes in deep.

you come with his thumb on your clit and his hands wrapped around the tops of your thighs and he holds you through all of it, steady and warm, murmuring into your hair. after, he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh right at the stocking band and looks up at you with that slow grin. "going to need you to wear those again," he says. "like. soon."

an: pt 2?? anyways first time writing aiku (was gonna be hugo but i changed my mind)

Taglist: @inu1gf @143-ilyuu @irethepotato @mikemsmm @bbladie @sky-casino @thetwinkims @elemayooooooo @angelhqlo1111 @chefcorvus

©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[4ourclover]

Lazy sex with Nagi 😴

You were staying over at your boyfriend's house. He wasnt the most motivated or productive person. Many of your hangouts included cuddling, playing video games, or simply sleeping.

Currently, the two of you were cuddling on his bed. He spooned you from behind and wrapped his arms around you with his head buried in the crook of your neck. Everything was silent, giving the room a soft and tranquil atmosphere. Sleep began to consume you as you were already nodding off.

Then, you felt something. He was rolling his hips against you. Was he awake...and aroused at that? You shifted uncomfortably before whining, "S-Sei.."

He only responded with a soft hum. His wandering hand dipped beneath your shirt and started pulling at your waistband before tugging down your pajamas along with your underwear. He freed his erect and throbbing cock from the confines of his own pajama pants and boxers. Then, he rubbed it against your entrance before pushing in slowly.

"Mm..lift your leg a little," he murmured. With all the strength you could muster up in your sleepy state, your raised your leg a little higher. This allowed him full access.

He lazily thrusted in and out of you. You bit your bottom lip to prevent sound from coming out, even though it was just the two of you. As he began to hit that sweet spot inside of you, you cried out. "H-Harder, S-Sei..!"

Hearing your moans made him speed up. The sound of your soft sighs and his grunts filled the room. Your vision went white as you reached your high. Your brain began to fog as his warmth poured out inside you. You thought of nothing but the way his body moved against yours and how good you felt.

The two of you stayed like that until you eventually fell asleep. Even then he remained buried deep inside of you, both of you connected at your core.

[cherryfawnie]

star player ₊⊹

ft. seishiro nagi .ᐟ | 90 minutes in the field. yet, nagi saves his best moves for you in the locker room after-hours. ⋆⟢ mdni , 2.0k wc

tags : f!reader, established relationship, “workplace” sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, squirting, eating out, nipple play, licking/biting, spanking, fingering, overstimulation . . . entirely smut i cried writing this

the heavy slam of the locker room doors signaled the final goodbyes of the team, leaving the concrete walls entirely yours. the air was thick and warm, carrying the clean scent of soap, damp tile, and everlasting heat of a high-stakes match. you were supposed to be finishing the final boxes of the post-game inventory, but your progress had stalled the moment you reached the end of the benches. 

nagi was waiting for you, looking completely undone and disastrously handsome.

he was slumped back against the lockers, his long legs stretched out across the floor. his jersey long gone, leaving him in his compression boxers and white towel slung loosely over his broad shoulders. his messy white hair still damp, clinging to his forehead, but his dark eyes were wide awake, tracking your steps with possessiveness. 

“you’re taking too long,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that echoed in the silent room. 

“some of us actually have to work, nagi,” you said, stepping into the narrow space between his knees. 

before you could even look down from your clipboard, nagi reached up, his massive, slender hands wrapping firmly around your hips. with a single, effortless tug, he pulled you straight down to his lap. the clipboard clattering uselessly onto the bench beside him as you shifted, your thighs straddling his, your hands instinctively coming up to rest against his bare shoulders.

“work is over,” he whispered, his face dipping into the crook of your neck. he let out a long, hot exhale against your skin that sent a shiver through you. his arms wound tightly around your waist, pulling your chest flush against his. the radiating heat of his skin was intoxicating, completely erasing the crisp chill of the stadium outside. 

you let out a soft laugh, burying your fingers into the soft strands of his white hair, gently pulling just enough to force him to look up at you. “the managers are going to lock us in, you know”

“good. then i don’t have to move,” he countered smoothly, a slow, teasing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. up close, his pupils were completely blown out, his gaze dripping down to your lips before looking back onto your eyes with an intense, unblinking need. “you played incredibly well today, by the way. i think you deserve a reward.”

“i didn’t play today, nagi. you did,” you reminded him, your thumb lightly tracing the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the prickle of his skin.

“i only played well because you were watching,” his hands sliding down from your waist to grip the back of your thighs, lifting you just a fraction closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between your bodies. the lazy, indifferent athlete from the field was completely gone, replaced by the consuming gravity he reserved only for you behind closed doors. he leaned up, his lips brushing softly against yours, teasing the seam of your lips without kissing you yet. “so,” nagi whispered against your lips, his grip tightening possessively against your thighs. “are you going to keep making me beg for my kiss, or are you gonna finish your paperwork later?”

you didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer. instead, you titled your head, gapped the space between your faces, and pressed your lips firmly against his. a soft, satisfied hum rumbled deep in nagi’s throat as he met you halfway. his hands gliding to the small of your back, pressing into your spine to arch you in so close that you could feel the rapid pounding of his pulse against your own chest.

when you finally parted for air, your forehead rested against his, both of your breaths coming a little shorter in the warm air of the locker room. “paperwork later,” you whispered, a breathless smile appearing as your fingers idly tangled in his strands. 

“good,” nagi breathed, his eyelids drooping half-shut as that familiar grin returned to his face. he leaned back against the lockers taking you with him without ever loosening his grip on you. he looked completely smug; content to keep you trapped in his lap for the rest of the night. “because i’m definitely too tired to let you go now.”

nagi’s lips finds yours again, feverish as ever. his kisses slowly trailing down your jaw, which turns into bites and sucks as he reaches your neck. his tongue moving skillfully between your cranked head, revealing purple hues that’ll have you wearing turtlenecks. he unnatatches from your neck to look up at you with those hazy eyes, slowly lifting your shirt, and bunching it up for you to bite on. his hands come up to carry the weight of your tits, thumbs pressing and circling your nipples until they peak. he leans in, using the same skillful tongue to tug and surround your nipples with warmth. his teeth teasingly scraping against it, which has you whining into the fabric. 

he lets go with a “pop!” grabbing your hips and settling you on the bench back-first. his hands digging in the fat of your exposed thighs, spreading them slowly as if he’s preparing himself for a meal. your miniskirt not providing any coverage, as the wet-patch seeping through your cotton panties has him salivating, “and i thought i was the impatient one.”

he hooks his finger under, and pushes your underwear to the side. his pupils dilate to love hearts as your slick—from all his teasing—webs between your folds, which he spreads with two fingers like he has all the time in the world. your body betraying you, instinctively moving into his palm chasing more friction, shirt falling at the attempt, needy whines escaping. when the tips of his fingers graze your clit, your moans become enticingly so, that he can’t help but want more.

nagi buries his face between your trembling thighs, already overstimulated. he takes in the glistening folds, the soft plush, and the familiar scent of desire. “god, i’ll never get tired of this” he practically moans as he delves into your cunt likes he’s been deprived. he uses his hands to hold your thighs threatening to crush him open, and uses yours to—”spread yourself open for me, baby” your fingers following command as you part your folds, blush blooming onto your cheeks at the promiscuity. his satisfied hum radiating into you as he licks long, broad stripes and tight circles against your clit. lips latching onto your swollen nub, cheeks hollowing, tongue unrelenting.  

your thighs shaking at his tongue prodding every corner, your fingers slipping as you get hypnotized in the waves of pleasure. nagi can’t have that. he twists his arm to land a harsh spank! to your ass along with a shocked yelp from you, his already weariness depleting his patience, “keep them spread. don’t close up on me” he orders with his mouth full. he deliberately moves in and out of your hole, feeling the way you clench around him at every entrance. his cock leaking pre-cum at the delicious feeling, darkening his briefs. 

his tongue still unreleasing from your pussy—as if he’s addicted—he pushes down his boxers letting his already erect cock spring up against his abdomen, abs clenching at the contact. in tandem, your excruciating shriek comes with the heavy gush of white and clear soaking nagi’s face. “o-oh my god, a-ah!” 

he releases from you with a gasp for air, which only he denied himself, “my good girl” he coos as he lines up his cock with your folds. he pumps his dick a few times before tapping it onto your clit, tip nudging the bud so perfectly. one hand interlocks with yours while he pushes in patiently. his low, musky groan through his teeth echoing through the room, sending signals straight to your pussy. both hands intertwine with yours now, fully and deeply connected. 

“f-fuck. been thinking about this since i saw you cheering for me. pretty little thing bouncing, screaming my name. you’re so perfect” he confesses.

all you can fathom is how his girthy length is splitting you open, reaching points of ecstasy that has your eyes rolling to your skull. giving you no time to adjust from your last orgasm, nagi’s hips snap rhythmically at your contorted face, wanting—no, needing, to get those alluring sounds out of you. even in the midst of it all, he’s powerless to admiring your beauty. his fingers interlacing your hair, moving strands out of your face, “just stay by my side so i can look at you forever.”

his endearing avowal snaps you out of your trance slightly, hands wrapping around his neck to appreciate his show of affection. “i love you nagi–” his knee rising onto the bench to pound flawlessly into the spongey, warm spot at the edge of your walls, having you choke on your words. your eyes widening, body jerking at the sudden hit when you’re sensitive as ever. nagi continuously crashes into that sweet spot until the whites of your eyes overtake, tongue lolling out as drool helplessly drips. “fuck! n-ngh, i can’t t-take it!” as cock-drunk as you are, nagi’s not so behind. his response comes out in more rapid, intense thrusts drumming you to another orgasm. 

nagi feels every spasm around him as you white-out. he groans loudly at the saccharine flutter which turns into a deadly grip on his dick, having to slow his pace to restrain filling you up. he lets you ride out your orgasm, letting you breathe at every quiver. you’ve gone completely limp in his hold, no strength left in your whimpers. he holds you to him like you’re the most delicate being to exist, to him you are. the way your sweat glistens your skin and tears glitter in your lashes, every sparkle has nagi’s balls emptying themselves sore straight into you. his head dropping down, hips spasming as if he didn’t deserve such bliss. “you feel that? you feel me in you?” he groans.

“mm, you feel so warm” your words finally render. nagi pulls out slowly and watches his thick load gape your hole and spurt out little by little. you weakly smile at the face of accomplishment he has on, basking in the amazing ending of your rendezvous. until, nagi’s expression changes scarily, hands latching onto your thighs once again. don’t tell me. . . “you thought i was done?” he cockily smirks as your eyebrows furrow into worry. “relax, i’m just cleaning you up,” his well-known void promises have you checking for emergency exits. 

nagi takes his middle and ring finger and pushes back into your pussy, forcing his way through all the juices settled there. “n-nghh, p-please” you plead for a second as every vein is on fire right now, you just might melt if he starts again. his canines pop out at your reaction, how cute, he thinks. his narrow fingers delve into you so excruciatingly slow, memorizing every ridge sprayed with his cum. pumping in and out at a steady pace, he takes his pointer finger and adds a third. your back immediately arching at the intrusion. you try to lessen the stimulation by backing away, but nagi presses a palm flat onto your lower stomach, right above your pelvis that makes every finger feel ten times deeper. your pathetic sobs as every emotion overfills has nagi pistoning his fingers faster and louder. he knows every part of you, every motion and curve of his hands has you squirming, his fingers knuckle deep. 

it feels like you’ve ascended as your third back-to-back orgasm nears. your hands flailing, head shaking, thighs closing as your body can’t recognize this overwhelming pleasure. “im cumming! p-please, a-ahh!” is all you can get out at the unfamiliar looming sensation. you cum around his fingers, gushing wetter and harder. clear squirt coming out wildly, soaking everything in front and beneath you: your thighs, nagi’s chest and fingers, the bench. it feels like you’ve just ran a marathon, slumping on the drenched metal. nagi holds you as all your muscles have grown taunt. 

he trails quick kisses from your temples to your lips, “i love you more,” he finally responds.

dividers by @cursed-carmine

i want to apologize for the lack of dialogue i think i went into a smut writing trance i promise my next one will have more

[cherryfawnie]

overtime

𑣲⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ pallete // late-night tutoring with soccer star sae itoshi was supposed to save his season, not leave you trapped in his car wearing his clothes !

tags \\ f!reader, "forced" proximity, lead-up to smut, car sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, finishing inside, squirting, kissing, straddling, and much more

𑣲⋆ wc // 2.4k

2:43 a.m.

the library had long fallen silent. the only sounds left in the building were the sounds of soft rain patters and low hums of the lamps. 

your mouth was dry, your eyes were burning. for nearly five hours, you've been sitting across sae itoshi, trying to hammer the fundamental concepts of general chemistry into the dense brain of your school’s star soccer player. it was supposed to be fairly simple: you were a fan of the team, he needed to pass to play the semi-finals, and you’d tutored plenty of people before. but no one—and i mean no one—had ever been this unwilling to learn.

“it’s really not complicated,” your voice raspy with fatigue as you tapped your pen against his notebook for the hundredth time. “you just need to set it up properly and convert, simple”

sae didn’t even glance up from where he was leaning back in his chair, his expression stoic. “i heard you the first time, i just give up”

you groan, “you do understand if you don’t pass this exam, you’re benched for the semi-finals,” you pinch the bridge of your nose as a migraine comes on. “just keep trying”

he finally looks up at your show of frustration, still unbothered. “maybe you’re just not a good teacher” 

that was the final straw. the audacity of his words snapped your already thinning patience. you didn’t fight back, but the way you slammed your textbook shut put it into words. the heavy thud echoed against the quiet walls. 

“fine,” you said, voice deadpan. you began shoving your pencils, highlighters, and papers into your bag, not caring about neatness. “if i’m such a horrible teacher, find someone else to save your season. i’m going home.” sae didn’t blink. he watched your frantic anger with those teal, unmoving eyes, his chin still resting in his palm. he looked unbelievably detached for someone who just ruined their last hope of eligibility for the semi-finals.

you yanked your bag zipper shut harshly, threw it over your shoulder, and turned without giving him another glance. pushing through the heavy doors of the library, the transition hit like a truck. the humid, cozy air of the library was quickly replaced with the shock of violently freezing winds. the soft rain turning into downpour, blurring the lights of the streetlamps into hazes of yellow. 

you pulled your hoodie up, but it was useless against the wind. within seconds, the freezing rain pricked at your skin and soaked through your sweater. your sneakers squelched against the flooded sidewalk as you hurried towards the edge of campus, your frustrations providing enough adrenaline to keep you moving. let him fail, you thought, blinking away the water stuck in your eyelashes. let the whole team lose, see if i care.

by the time you reached the shelter of the bus stop, you were shivering. the small plexiglass overhang offered pathetic protection; the wind just blew rain sideways, still finding its way to you. swiping your thumb across your damp phone screen, you checked the transit app, only for your stomach to drop. next bus: 35 minutes. delayed due to local flooding. a miserable groan, half yell, escaped you as you leaned your head back against the even colder metal. you left in such a hurry that everything but your pride was ignored. closing your eyes, you wondered how a thursday night had gone so wrong.

through the heavy throttle of rain around you, a new sound cut through the noise. splashing, heavy footsteps coming from the exact direction of the library. you opened your eyes as the figure stepped under the roof of the bus stop. 

it was sae. of course it was.

he didn’t look nearly as miserable as you felt. he had an umbrella propped over his shoulder, and though his shoes were damp, he still carried himself with that infuriating, untouchable posture. he didn’t look at you immediately. instead, he shook the excess water off his umbrella with a snap of his wrist, still looking out onto the empty, flooded street where the bus was supposed to be.

“the roads are flooded through the lower avenues,” sae said, his voice unwavering as if nothing in the world bothers him. “the bus isn’t coming.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, hugging your wet arms together to stop them from shaking. “it says thirty five minutes on the app”

“the app is wrong” he replied flatly. he finally turned his head, his sharp, teal eyes cutting through the dim, yellow gloom of the bus stop to look down at you. he takes in your shivering frame, your drenched hair clinging to your neck, and the puddle forming at your sneakers. he let out a small, barely audible sigh–more out of boredom than pity. “get in the car. i’m parked down the block”

your jaw tightened. “i’m fine, i’ll wait.”

“i’m not asking you,” sae said, already turning and stepping back out onto the downpour, holding the umbrella perfectly above himself. “if you stay here, you’re going to freeze, and dead people won’t be able to finish the review tomorrow. move.”

he didn’t even check to see if you were following. the sheer, arrogant pragmatism of it made everything in you boil, but as the viscous gusts of wind sent freezing rain down your clothes, your survival instinct won. gritting your teeth, you clenched your heavy, water-soaked bag and hurried after him, shoes splashing in his wake. 

his car was exactly what you expected: quiet, and smelling faintly of leather and a clean, expensive cologne that made your chest tighten. the moment you sank into the passenger seat, the contrast was dizzying. sae climbed into the drivers seat, shutting out the roaring storm with a thud. the sudden absence of the rain left the car unnervingly quiet, the sound of your own ragged breathing prominent. without a word, he revved the engine and cranked the heater.

“don’t get the leather wet,” he murmured, shifting the car into drive.

“you’re the one who dragged me in here,” you muttered back. but, you still didn’t want to get his expensive seats wet. so, you peeled off your sweater and set it on top of your bag. the thin, damp, tanktop underneath sticking to you like second skin. you pulled your knees closer to your chest to keep you from shivering making the swell of your breasts rise up, and your hardened nipples from the cold poke out. you leaned your head against the window but the freezing glass immediately sending a jolt through your temple. you pulled away, settling near the heater, aware of how close he was to you. in the confined space, the heat radiating off the dashboard seemed to carry his scent right to you. 

your damp clothes were beginning to stick to your skin in a way entirely uncomfortable. as you tried to subtly pull your damp top away from your chest, you felt a gaze on you. 

you glanced sideways, sae was looking at you.

he wasn’t even watching the road–well, his eyes were darting back and forth, but his focus was entirely pinned on you. in the green glow of the dashboard lights, his teal eyes looked darker, more intense. he took in the way you were trembling, eyes dropping to your breasts rising and falling unpatterned. 

suddenly, he pulled the car over and put it in park.

“what are you doing?” you asked, your voice coming out smaller than you intended. 

sae didn’t answer. he unbuckled his seatbelt, and leaned across the center console. the sudden proximity made your breath hitch. he was so close you could see the faint dampness at the tips of his eyelashes, could feel the actual heat of his body emanating through the chill in your veins. your heart did a thud against your ribs. you braced yourself, thinking he was going to say something–or worse, lean closer.

instead, his hand brushed against your arm. reaching into the backseat. he pulled a heavy, letterman jacket from the seats. he put it over your shoulders, it was huge, and completely dry.

“put it on,” he said, his voice dropped an octave. he didn’t move back right away. he stayed hovering over the console for a second too long, his eyes burning into yours, observing the way your shirt hugged every curve of your torso. “you’re getting water everywhere. and your teeth are clicking. it’s annoying”

“i can’t just change in your car, sae” you whispered, your face flushing a hot red that had nothing to do with the heater. sae finally leaned back into his seat, a lazy tilt of his head. he looked away, staring out at the rain washing over the windshield. “i’m not looking. move fast”

your fingers fumbled with the hem of your top, your heart hammering as you removed the damp layer off. every rustle of fabric felt incredibly loud. even though he kept his eyes ahead, his profile was striking, his long fingers wrapping tightly around the steering wheel. he was entirely aware of every movement you were making two feet away from him. 

your hands quivering, struggling with the buttons of his jacket. “you done yet?” he says impatiently. 

you grunt, “how do i button this thing?”

he looks back at you slowly, eyes gaining emotion at the way you’re sitting wearing his jacket half-heartedly, the midriff of stomach going up to the exposed sides of your breasts. he moves across to you, invading your space. your breath freezes as his fingers brush against your bare skin. the touch sending shivers down your spine. you stare at him, heart hammering as he focuses intently on the task. 

he didn’t rush. his fingers occasionally grazing your stomach as he worked his way up. the feeling of closeness intoxicating, his warm breath against your neck making hairs stand up. when he reached the middle button, his hands paused. he felt the stiffness of your posture, the way you had stopped breathing. sae slowly tilted his head up, inches away from yours. a faint, knowing smirk appearing at the corner of his lips, dangerous and entirely too close.

“you nervous?” he whispered, his voice dropped to a low, quiet rasp that vibrated through you. 

you couldn’t answer as you knew you were nervous. your response comes out a meek whimper. the way his stare bore daggers into you, his hands near your already perked peaks, everything sending exhilaration through you. 

as if out of your control, you move towards his face, lips barely brushing. his hold loosens on the jacket as he gently puts his lips onto yours. the hesitant pecking quickly turns into greedy licks of each other's saliva. sae grabs your hips and drags you onto his lap, still devouring you. your knees glide over the console while he reclines his seat back. you straddle above his thighs as your arms lock around his neck, pinning him back into the reclined seat. he slips his jacket off your arms and wraps his arm around your waist. the heaviness of each groan meshing you into each other in the mess of damp hair and flushed skin. 

you both move slightly away from each other as your breathlessness catches up. the long hours of the day being washed over with desire.

“you sure you want this?” he breathes into you. you properly sit down on his lap, tilting your head back onto his lips.

. . . . . 

your hopeless grabs leaving handprints on the fogged windows in the back seat. ass arched up, face smushed against the door as sae roughly pounds into you from behind. every vulnerable part of you open for him as he stretches you out. his hands on the meat of your ass, occasionally roaming to the curve of your spine. you’ve came countless times, losing all concept of time while you’re being fucked to the brim. leather underneath pooled with combined juices. 

“a-ah! f-fuck! i can’t!” you yelp. he pounds into you harder as your body jerks forward, his hands bringing you back onto his dick. his stern hold on you making sure you go nowhere, yanking your hair back to look at the reflection of him in the glass.

“take all of it” sae seethes through his teeth, not letting up his mean thrusts. he takes in the sight of you all laid out for him on fours, fucking into your cervix while evidence of him is splayed across your body. “fuck, just like that” he gives your ass a harsh slap as you whimper at the sting. he soothes the area as he moves his leg up to curve right into the spot that has you gushing. 

you scream his name. sweat dripping down your forehead as you know he’s not stopping anytime soon. your clit rubbed sensitive, bruises blooming on your thighs at the heavy slams of his hips. every spasm of your walls sending him into overdrive. “keep clenching around me like that baby”

he can tell you’re so close when you wrap around him, sucking his length in as you scream that you can’t take anymore. “she doesn’t want me to leave. fuck, she’s sucking me in so good” 

“sae! i-i’m so close, h-harder, fuck me harder!” your shaky voice sending jolts straight to his dick. 

“you’re so deep!—” you don’t even know what you’re saying anymore. barely coherent in a cock-drunk daze as his balls meet your clit at every thrust, knocking brain cell out. the repeated slams of skin making tears sting your eyes. his hands moving in circles around your back as if to soothe you, completely contrasting the way he’s jerking into you like he hates you. 

his cock hitting the spongy spot inside you perfectly every time, while his fingers wrap around you to rub tight circles onto your hardened bud. your whole body spasming as your nth orgasm overtakes every sensation. you shriek as you spray clear gush and cum down his legs, reciting his name like it’s the only word you know. 

“that’s it. give it to me. fuck you’re such a mess” his hips stuttering, cock pulsing at your slick coating him. “i’m gonna fill you up. keep all of it in” he lets out a long, low moan while spreading your ass to see your pussy milk him. he empties his balls as he pushes into you deeper, letting his cum flood inside you. his body limp atop of yours as you try to regain clarity amidst your overwhelming euphoria. the mix of yours and his juices overflowing out of you, making you twitch at the feeling. the interior filled with the sounds of fastened, cluttered breathing as rain immerses you outside. 

“so much for not wetting my leather.”

dividers by @feimingo & @cursed-carmine , panel by me-pics from pinterest

[anglswag]

#this bitch too bad to pull out | creampie

Rin had a problem. A huge problem for someone who didn't want kids. He didn't know how to pull out. Well in theory he did know how to take his dick out of you, but when in the middle of fucking, he just couldn't.

You had talked with him about it a lot of times. You wanted to stop taking the pill, but Rin just wasn't able to pull out in time. His explanation was pathetic. "I can't bring myself to, because it feels too good" His lack of discipline was crazy when you thought about him being an athlete.

But today he would do it. He'd pull out in time, he was determined to do so, until the moment came. You'd already cum, and were now lying there, body sore and pussy pulsing around his dick, when he started to feel it. Rin's manhood started twitching and his hips stuttered. "Shit gonna-" "Pull, out Rinnie", you whispered, tangling his hand with yours.

Rin looked at your face, tears dried on your cheeks, lips swollen and wet and fucked out, then he looked a bit further down, your tits, bouncing with every thrust, bruised and covered in bit marks, a bit lower was your belly, from which a bulge could be seen everytime his fat cock hit against your walls. You were so perfect. He couldn't pull out. His dick had already started spurting ropes of cum into your womb. And honestly? The thought of children ain't seem that bad.

[katsukiib]

𑣲 you always admired katsuki's strength. especially when he used his strength on you in all the right ways. ⋆｡° — SMUT! ♡♡

he took every chance to carry you, lifting you effortlessly from the car to the front door when your feet were tired.

and when you were both too eager to wait, unable to even reach the bedroom—he held you up easily, hands gripping your ass while he buried himself inside you, legs locked tightly around his waist.

otherwise, he’d simply toss you over his shoulder and take you to bed.

he changed positions with ease, shifting your body effortlessly. he’d pin your hands above your head or push your legs back to hit the perfect angle.

hands held behind your back when fucking you from behind, pinning you to the mattress with a hand on your back—completely ruining you.

using his strength on you was never to hurt you, only to care for you deeper.

© katsukiib ʚ♡ɞ do not steal, edit, or copy my work! ♡ — MASTERLIST! ♡♡

[nershdotpng]

Caught in the Hallway | Katsuki Bakugo

~ The dorm door clicked shut behind you with barely a sound.

For a moment, you stood perfectly still.

Nothing.

No alarms. No footsteps. No voices.

The common room lights were off, the hallways empty, and the rest of your classmates were hopefully asleep in their beds.

Keeping your footsteps light, you started down the hallway toward the common room.

Just get outside.

A few minutes.

Some fresh air.

Then you'd come back before anyone noticed.

Simple.

You made it halfway down the hall before a door suddenly clicked open, and your heart nearly stopped.

A head of ash-blond hair appeared. Crimson eyes met yours.

And immediately narrowed.

Of all people.

Of course it had to be him.

Katsuki rubbed his eyes, his face a rare neutral instead of its usual glare. His hair was even messier than normal, sticking out in every direction.

Well, sticking out in more directions than usual.

For a moment, he simply stared at you.

Then his gaze flicked down.

Jacket.

Shoes.

Phone in hand.

Backpack slung over one shoulder.

His eyes slowly returned to your face.

The silence stretched.

"The fuck are you doing?" He squinted his eyes at you. "Are you... sneaking out-"

"Shhhhh!!!"

You rushed forward and clapped a hand over his mouth before he could finish.

Your head whipped around the hallway.

No doors opening.

No footsteps.

Good.

"Don't be so loud!" you whisper-shouted.

Katsuki froze.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

His crimson eyes stared directly into yours. Wide. Blinking once.

Twice.

Then they slowly narrowed.

"It's two in the morning, idiot."

His voice came out muffled beneath your hand.

"You're the one stomping around like a dumbass."

Before you could defend yourself, Katsuki grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand away from his mouth. His grip wasn't rough, but it was firm enough to make his point.

Once he was free, he lowered his voice anyway.

"You're absolutely ass at being sneaky, by the way."

His gaze flicked over your outfit again.

The jacket.

The shoes.

The backpack.

Then back to your face.

"Seriously. What part of this screams subtle to you?"

With a huff, you yanked your hands away from his grip.

"The part where I was about to succeed before you so graciously interrupted me."

Katsuki stared at you.

Once.

Twice.

Then let out a disbelieving scoff. "Succeed?"

He gestured vaguely at your entire existence.

"You mean this?"

His eyes dropped to the backpack.

"You look like you're about to flee the country."

"I am not," you shot back.

"Yeah?" he jeered. "Could've fooled me."

You crossed your arms. Hmph. "I was just going outside."

"With a backpack."

"It's called being prepared."

"Prepared for what? Huntin' villains or some shit?"

You opened your mouth.

Closed it.

The answer died somewhere between your brain and your tongue, and Katsuki caught it immediately.

The sleepy annoyance vanished from his face.

"...Wait."

His brows furrowed.

"Are you?"

You stared at him.

"What?"

The scowl came hot and fast, and you were worried you'd have to shut his mouth again.

"Don't 'what' me, idiot." He jabbed a finger in your direction. "Are you actually planning to go looking for villains?"

"N-No...." you lied. Well, half lied.

You weren't looking for villains, per se, but if you did find villains, you wouldn't necessarily complain.

"Yeah? Then where are you goin', huh?"

You shrugged, looking down the hallway to the exit.

"Just wanted to go outside for a bit, y'know? Feels like the teachers try to coop us in here, but I used to walk a few blocks to school. Now I just... round the corner. It's a little suffocating."

You sighed, rubbing your arm.

"I mean, I know it's because of all these villains attacking the school, but... I dunno."

For once, Katsuki didn't interrupt.

You met his eyes again.

"You gonna tell a teacher or something?"

Katsuki stared at you for a moment. The irritation was still there.

The suspicion, too.

But some of the bite had left his expression.

"The hell do you take me for?" he muttered.

You blinked.

"What?"

"I ain't a snitch."

The words came out like an insult, as if the very suggestion had offended him.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

"If I wanted a teacher involved, I'd have dragged your ass to Aizawa already."

Then, he moved, which startled you a little. He stepped back inside his bedroom, pulling the door shut.

For a moment, you thought he was about to go back to bed, and a part of you felt a tinge of disappointment.

Then he came back out, out of his sleepwear and into his black t-shirt and jeans. He was pulling a hoodie over his shoulders with one hand, the other carrying a smaller backpack.

"Alright," he said. "Where the hell are we going?"

a/n: Hi guys! Trying something new. I see a lot good posts and notices a lot of them don't focus too much on decorating the post. Makes sense since a lot of you use the mobile app. I do everything from a laptop, so, I forget to factor that in. After all, you guys are here for the story and the feeling, not the aesthetics (mostly, lol).

Part Two of the Pro Hero Bakugo is in the works since you guys seemed to like it so much. Honestly I just spilled whatever was in my brain and ran with it LOL.

ALRIGHT, POLL TIME!

PICK!

Panic Before the Exam (Midoriya)

You Challenge Him to a Game (Kaminari)

We Avoid the Crowd (Shinsou)

Facing Fear Together (Kirishima)

Teach Me How to Cook (Todoroki)

Caught in the Hallway Part 2 (Bakugo)

Voting ended onJun 9

[heartkaji]

ⵌ PLAYING HOUSE! ft. g. suguru

…YOU LET ME CALL YOU BABY BUT I CAN’T CALL U MINE ?

sum. when geto is partnered up with you for a ‘fake family’ project, it gives him the perfect excuse to touch you as he pleases. but when you continue to laugh him off, can his frat brothers help him make you see him as boyfriend and not ‘bestie’?

cast : nerdjo (‘toru’ gojo) + frat! jjk men (‘sigma chi’) : fratjo (‘sato’ gojo) ◞ geto ◞ toji ◞ sukuna ◞ nanami 𓏲 gallery here !

HUSBAND TACTICS #1: TAKE THE LEAP!

taught by: sato gojo

“you’re partners with y/n?! that’s your sign to lock in, man. stop playing safe and take the fucking leap.”

ΣΧ

“i think we should name the baby ‘nagito komaeda.’”

“i think you’ve lost your damn mind.”

in the common room of the sigma chi frathouse, geto suguru has his legs spread lazily & his back against the old couch. he’s scrolling through his phone with bleary eyes as sato & sukuna debate a name for their project’s fake baby. sato gojo is scribbling names in red on the whiteboard. ryomen sukuna is taking up half the space on the living room couch.

“sukuna the second,” sukuna says with a gulp of his cola. he sets the can down with a thud & crosses his feet over the wooden coffee table, leaning back into suguru’s space. “it’s the only respectable option. suguru, what do you think?”

geto suguru thinks that sukuna hasn’t showered today.

he also thinks his privacy screen is his greatest investment. ryomen sukuna has his cheek smushed against suguru’s shoulder and his brown eyes blinking up at him, but he doesn’t notice that geto is scrolling through your instagram posts, staring at pictures where you look too pretty to be real with a tight jaw & stifled heartbeat. sukuna flicks his temple. “helloo. earth to suguru?”

suguru’s silver piercings are glistening in the heat. he blinks once, twice—memorizes the photo on his screen where you’re grinning while hugging a plush bear bigger than your head—& clicks his phone off with a sigh. his head rolls back in defeat.

“y/n is my project partner.”

the room goes silent.

gojo sato freezes against the whiteboard, marker still in hand. sukuna has leaned away from suguru, eyes wide, as if suguru has just admitted to not showering this morning. the two boys stare at suguru. then at each other, then back to suguru again.

“ouuuu shii,” they drawl simultaneously.

“please don’t start this nonsense…”

“suguru, this is huge!” sato lets his marker fall to the floor, and runs to crouch in front of geto, elbows on suguru’s knees. “think about it, man. you and the girl of your dreams. partnered up to play husband n’ wife and take care of a plastic baby.”

suguru bites his cheek, neck hot. “it’s just a project.”

“no, it’s an opportunity,” sukuna corrects. “this is the girl who calls you bestie even when you look at her like you wanna eat her alive.” he snaps his fingers. “this is your chance, idiot. to show her you’re husband material. you have an excuse to call her wifey, for fuck’s sake.”

suguru’s phone is tight in his palm. his thumb is still tracing the line of your smile in the image he was staring at before he clicked his phone off.

“she thinks i’m her friend,” suguru murmurs, voice half-gone as he slips his phone into his pocket. “she’s comfortable with me. i’m not gonna ruin that by acting like a feral dog.”

“you’re already feral, idiot. y’think i didn’t see you staring at her IG photos like a creep?”

geto blinks. “how did you—“

“not important!” sato interrupts, slapping suguru’s thigh. he rests his chin on suguru’s knee, blue eyes glimmering in the light. “what’s important is, you have an opportunity. she’s already comfortable with you—you just have to take it further. call her sweetheart. baby. wife. see if she doesn’t stop you. take the leap, suguru.”

“take the leap,” sukuna grins.

take the leap. but the leap is a jump with no safety net. geto suguru knows what’s at stake. he knows if he ever let himself get too greedy—too carried away—he risks losing the friday mornings spent at the library with your head against his shoulder while you pretend to read from a book. he risks your voice calling his name across campus, and the way you hug his arm when you haven’t seen him in days, and the way you tug the piercing on his lip with a playful smile when you want his attention. geto suguru knows better than to risk it. he knows not to take the leap.

but he nods, lips tight as he reaches for his car keys on the table. “i’ll take the leap.”

“let’s go, daddy geto!” sato roars, dapping sukuna up. the boys watch with stupid grins as geto shoves things in his pockets. geto glances at the time: 5PM. “i’m going to her place now, we agreed to meet up.”

sukuna clutches his heart, then waves. “go get your wifey, asshole.”

suguru doesn’t look back. it’s time to fucking leap.

# SHOW TIME !

“suguruu, stop acting responsible and come cuddle me.”

ah, you’re such a fucking bother.

it’s sometime after six and geto suguru is in your bedroom with his shirt tossed somewhere on the floor and his silver chain cold against his chest. he’s putting together the plastic baby crib in preparation for the project’s official start on monday, and trying very fucking hard to ignore the fact that you’re all sprawled out on your bed behind him: hair fanned out, pillow to your chest, and whining his name because who are you if not a tease?

“you’re such a bad husband,” you mumble wistfully. “leaving your wife all alone on her bed like this…”

god.

geto’s throat bobs. there’s blood in his throat but his eyes skim the instructions with hazy focus. lord knows he wants nothing more than to press you into the covers and kiss you till you’re laughing his name and you can’t fucking breathe, but he knows the minute he pads over there you’ll laugh in his face.

his mouth dries.

“someone has to build the crib, angel,” he murmurs. it comes out lower than he intended, but whatever—it came out regardless. pet name number one, okay. “unless you want our fake baby sleeping on the rug?”

“i want my fake husband,” you hug your pillow tighter, and geto can hear the pout in your voice. your eyes are still on the ceiling, and geto doesn’t miss the fact that you don’t comment on the pet name. perhaps you didn’t hear it. perhaps you just don’t care. “and the baby is plastic,” you grumble. “it doesn’t care if it sleeps on a mattress or a floor.”

he hums. “bet it doesn’t complain as much either.”

“hey!” you gasp, chucking your pillow at him with a laugh. geto’s lip twitches in a smile. he rubs the back of his head, sweeping away the black strands falling in his face. he turns to glance at you, and then he wishes he didn’t, because you’re staring back at him with the brightest eyes he’s ever seen.

he bites his cheek. and then he pads over to you.

you watch, starry eyed, as geto lets the instruction manual glide to the floor. he presses a knee into the mattress, leg swinging over your thighs, bed dipping underneath his weight. his hair tickles your jaw and his chain dangles in front of you and geto suguru smells like dogwood and something too warm to have a name.

you blink up at him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he murmurs. “you look cute like this.”

he shouldn’t say that, he knows he shouldn’t, but you’re already curling your hand around his necklace and letting your thighs squeeze underneath him. and geto’s eyes rake down your body—just once, just a little, because he knows better than to leap that fucking far. so he bites his lip.

“i always look cute..” you mumble, lashes fluttering and voice fading underneath him.

“mm, but you look extra cute today,” he mutters, “like a real life mommy.”

you tug his necklace, grin cheeky. “geto suguru. are you trying to seduce me?”

“no,” he murmurs, and his voice is too low and the words come too fast. “i’m being a good husband. taking care of my wife’s needs before she even asks.”

he’s still propped up over you, bare pecs heaving & chain glinting too close to your face. the heat of his body pricks at your skin. you tug him closer by the chain: “and what needs do i have?”

“attention,” he murmurs, thumb grazing your cheek. “you've been whining since I got here. wanted me to stop working. wanted me to come cuddle you.”

“i was only joking..” you mumble, slightly shy. and geto wishes you wouldn’t say that. wishes he didn’t know that already.

but he’s a patient man. and how can he be upset when you look so pretty underneath him?

“i know,” he murmurs, voice warm, half-lidded eyes boring into yours. “i’m sorry. am i making you uncomfortable?”

he says he’s sorry but his thumb still grazes your cheek, because he can’t not. you lean into him reflexively, and then you blink.

“what—? no, no. it’s just—“ your brows furrow, and you frown in that way that makes geto want to kiss it off. “it’s just… you’re so good at this, geto!”

his thumb pauses over your cheek. “what?”

“this husband thing!” you grin up at him, cheeks flushed. “you made me feel all hot and funny inside. your future wife is gonna be so lucky.”

geto blinks. you keep going.

“you were so hot,” you cup his cheek with a palm, and geto’s jaw is slack. “and you’re so responsible setting up the baby stuff. whoever you date and marry is gonna be so lucky. in a way this is perfect practice, isn’t it?”

his jaw tightens. “yeah, practice.”

he doesn’t say you’re the only girl he’s ever wanted, the only girl he’ll ever want, that last summer when you fell asleep on his couch with his hoodie on your shoulders he thought about you with his last name; or that every time you swat his chest and laugh away his efforts his heart cracks a little in his chest. he doesn’t tell you he’s only a man and his heart can’t take much more much longer.

but he squeezes your hip. bites your neck so you giggle and swat him away. rolls off you and pretends his chain isn’t still warm from your grip.

geto suguru pads away to kneel by the crib’s side. “is my wife gonna keep whining, or is she gonna help me fix this?”

SATO’S REMARK : TOUGH LUCK. BUT KEEP AT IT, BROTHER!

HUSBAND TACTICS #2: GET DOMESTIC !

taught by: toji zenin

“wanna woo her? take her on a family-esque activity. that’ll show her you’re husband material.”

ΣΧ

sigma chi’s frathouse kitchen is two bottles of bourbon & cranberry jam left open on the countertop. in the kitchen suguru geto is there, a hyper-realistic plastic baby on his hip as toji scribbles grocery items in handwriting geto will have to pretend to understand.

“here’s everything,” toji grumbles, clicking his pen and passing the note to suguru. geto’s face scrunches immediately, piercings glimmering as he squints his eyes in a desperate attempt to read the list. “how the hell is your handwriting worse than sukuna’s?”

“you’ll figure it out. it’s for meg,” toji answers, bored, drumming his pen against the sticky counter. “and some of the organic stuff my girl likes. i’ll be back late today, so i need you to drop it off at my place.”

suguru shifts the doll over his chest, taking one last look at the sorry note before stuffing it in his pocket. “are you taking meg with you today?”

“no, he’s home with the babysitter,” toji grunts, slipping his hands into his skinny jean pockets to hide the fake ice on his wrist. “new job’s paying good, so i’m taking the missus out on a date.”

“aww,” suguru softens, smile tugging at his lips. he’s pleased to see toji doing better, to say the least. he’s engaged to a pretty, rich lady now; working hard as a ghost writer for drake, all while being a good young father to meg. he pats the doll’s head absentmindedly. “that’s cute. what are you planning?”

“luxury shopping date,” toji mumbles.

“really?” suguru tilts his head. “where are you going?”

“shoppers drug mart.”

geto doesn’t comment.

“you should take that girl with you,” toji says, hands still in his pockets. “take her n’ your plastic doll grocery shopping. it’s good domestic practice. get her some expensive strawberries and see if she doesn’t fall head over heels.”

suguru bites his lip, phone already heavy in his pocket.

can’t hurt to try, right ?

# SHOW TIME !

suguru wishes you wouldn’t do this to him.

wishes you wouldn’t look all cute standing by the store’s glass doors, lashes fluttering as you blink around trying to find him. he should raise his hand, text you he’s just two aisles over and you should move before the lady behind gets mad at you for blocking the entrance. instead he watches with a fond smile as you frown and fumble to grab your phone from your purse.

he sighs, walking over to stand behind you with the fake baby in his arms. your eyes are still on your phone as your thumbs tap frantically, typing a message to send to his contact: ‘SUGURU. where are u???’

his lip twitches. he’s leaning so close over your shoulder that he can smell your shampoo, and your hair is tickling his nose, but you still don’t notice. so cute. geto thinks you’re so cute.

he hums into your neck. “who are we texting?”

“suguru!” you gasp, whipping around at the sound of his voice. he’s looking down at you with those half-lidded eyes, teasing smile, dark sweater sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. you frown at him. “you scared me! don’t you know you shouldn’t sneak up on vulnerable young women?!”

suguru blinks. “what?”

“you heard me,” you grumble, fake pout on your lips as you lean down to the plastic doll in his arms. “hi, lafayette. daddy’s being mean to mommy again.”

“i still can’t believe you named our baby after a revolutionary leader.” geto mutters.

“he’s my fave in hamilton,” you hum, slipping lafayette into your arms. “shall we get shopping?”

——

in geto’s shopping cart, there’s five shades of lipgloss, a bag of plantain chips, and four other items that are not on the shopping list.

geto suguru needs to start saying no. but it’s hard to deny you when you look up at him with those pretty eyes, batting your lashes all sweet in that way that makes his chest hurt. so he pushes the cart, resigned, watching the sway of your hips as you balance lafayette on your side and coo silly things to him like he’s a real human child. he shakes his head, bites his lip. geto suguru is utterly fucked.

“suguru! look at this!”

he shouldn’t look. because it’s just going to be another item you’ll seduce him into buying, but he looks anyways. you’re pointing at a box of dinosaur cereal—a clear off-brand version of froot loops. “lafayette would love this. can we get it for him?”

he pads around the cart to get a better look. “lafayette can’t eat cereal.”

“i meant megumi,” you coo, running a hand down his pecs. “he likes dinosaurs. he’ll love this.”

“no, he likes gummy worms,” but geto suguru is already distracted by your hand stroking his chest. his lip twitches, “you want this for yourself, don’t you?”

“caught me,” you flash him your sweetest smile, squeezing his pec before setting mamdani in the cart. geto watches as you lean up to the top shelf, skirt riding up your thighs as you reach for the box of cereal. his eyes drop. but then his neck heats and he quickly looks away.

“suguruu,” you frown, still reaching. “help me.”

suguru lets out a rough breath. he shouldn’t help, but he always will—what else can he do when you call his name like that?

he steps behind you, chest pressing against your back, arm reaching up and caging you in the process. your breathing hitches. suguru doesn’t miss it.

“suguru,”

“hm?”

“what are you doing?”

your voice comes out breathy, and suguru has to pretend he doesn’t like the way you sound or how you’re staring up at him with big eyes. he hums coolly. “i’m helping my wife.”

“oh,” your lashes flutter as he reaches to tug down your skirt. his knuckles brush your thigh & you glance down at his arm snaking around your hips before mustering up a smile.

you tease, “such a good husband, protecting my modesty.”

“mm,” he murmurs, “the best.”

your mouth opens slightly, but no words come out. geto watches your lashes flutter—shy? nervous?—as your hand curls around his bicep to steady yourself. your palm squeezes his arm. he lets his hand dip to squeeze your inner thigh, and prays you don’t hear his breathing hitch.

“do good husbands usually grope their wives..?” you murmur, and geto thinks you’re teasing, but your lashes are low and your voice is so small and god he wants to kiss you so badly.

“don’t think so,” he mutters. “am i bad?”

“so bad,” you breathe. and your breath is hot & he’s leaning so close he can feel it on his lips. you squeeze his arm, eyes boring into his, and you really need to fucking stop before he leans down and kisses you. “but i don’t mind.”

god. you’re gonna fucking kill him. geto parts his lips to speak but you get your words out first.

“so,” you beam up at him, “the cereal?”

oh. the cereal.

fuck you and the cereal.

he doesn’t mean that, though. his jaw tightens as he lifts the box and drops it into the cart. his hands shove in his pockets, and geto suguru can only blink away the irritation burning in his eyes.

“thanks, sugu,” you lift lafayette into your arms. he’s gripping the cart handle right now, trying to ignore the fact that you’re smiling up at him and cursing himself because even now he thinks you are so beautiful.

“well then,” you chirp, grin sweet, “back to shopping!”

TOJI’S REMARK : SHE DON’T WANT YOUR ASS 🤦🏿‍♂️

HUSBAND TACTICS #3: GET SMOOTHER.

taught by: toru gojo

“your problem is that everything you do maintains plausible deniability. i think it’s time you claimed her in a way she can’t deny.”

ΣΧ

the good news is, even though geto ended up spending $200 on items not on toji’s list, the plantain chips you roped him into getting were really good. the bad news is, sato gojo is lying here on his lap, forcing geto to feed him said chips while gaming on sukuna’s nintendo switch.

“sugu, i want one,” -> geto feeds sato a chip. chew, swallow. “i can’t believe you embarrassed yourself like that.”

suguru’s eye twitches. “no more chips for you.”

they’re on the bed in toru’s room, and toru gojo sighs before slipping his headphones off at his desk. “sorry, but you guys are getting crumbs on my bed.”

sato laughs. “as if sukuna doesn’t jerk off in here every other day.”

“that was before he finished therapy,” toru mumbles in response, cheeks flushed in dismay. god bless geto for enrolling sukuna in therapy for his exhibitionist kink, despite sukuna’s wishes. toru takes his glasses off, runs a hand through his hair. “suguru, what’s this about you and y/n?”

“every time suguru tries something with her, she laughs him off,” sato snitches. he flashes geto a clumsy grin, smile totally innocent. “sugu, i want one.”

geto shoves him off his lap.

“maybe you’re not obvious enough,” toru plays with the stem of his glasses. “you guys are super close. even if you’re touching her, she might not take it seriously because she’s used to touchy friendships.”

“yeah!” sato agrees, fist pumped up, face flat on the floor. “my thoughts exactly, twin brother.”

“shut up.” geto and toru say simultaneously.

“anyway,” toru continues. “maybe get bolder. do something she can’t pass off as ‘just friends’.”

geto stares at the chips in his lap. “just friends, huh?”

#SHOW TIME!

geto leans by the kitchen door. “hi, mommy. what’re you doing?”

suguru’s over at your house for dinner. he’s just put lafayette to sleep in his crib, and he has his hands in his pockets as he pads over to you, sweatpants low on his hips. his arms cage you by the stove. “you smell good,” he mutters.

you ignore him. “i’m making dinner!” you beam, turning to face him.

geto can’t even tell what you’re showing him. in your hands is a charred mess, and geto can only pray the squiggly thing on the plate is spaghetti and not something else. his brows furrow in amused confusion as you beam up at him, lashes fluttering.

he cocks his head. “is this a burnt offering?”

“rude,” you swat his chest, and geto only smiles, eyes tracking the way your hair falls over your shoulders. you mutter curses as you shift the plate away, staring at the pot in dismay. “i wanted to cook for you.” you grumble.

his lip twitches. “like a real life wife?”

“yeah,” you turn to him, lips in a pout as you play with the chain on his chest. “but it didn’t work out. can you believe it?”

“i believe it,” he hums, but in reality he’s trying not to laugh, or rather, avoiding thinking about how glossy your lips look when you pout. his palms find your waist, “need your hubby to help?”

you smile up at him, “if he’d be so kind.”

geto lifts you by the hips before you can think better of it. you yelp as he sets you down on the counter, gripping him in a panicked hug. “suguru! you can’t just do that!”

he smiles, big. “do what?”

“lift me! and without warning!” you’re still hugging his neck tight, heart racing against his collarbone. he laughs, face in your hair to muffle the sound. his hands are splayed on your back, anchoring you against him.

“stop laughing at me,” you frown, and geto pulls back. he still has that lazy smile on his lips. “i’m not laughing,”

“yes you are,” you cup his face, smushing his cheeks in your palms. “look at your smile. it’s mocking.”

“adoring,” he mutters, gaze reverent.

“lying,” you pout, frown deep.

geto doesn’t argue. he only watches, eyes half-lidded, as you lift a palm from his cheek to card through his hair, stroking softly. you’re still pouting, still pretty. his thumb presses into your spine.

“i’ve never lied to you in my life,” he murmurs.

“yeah?” you’re still raking his hair, eyes never meeting his own. “then were you laughing at me just now?”

“no, mommy.”

“see?” you cock your head. “liar.”

he lets out a long, shuddering breath, hands sliding from your back to your waist, then down to squeeze your hips. you’re still stroking his hair, unbothered. no idea that you’ve got him crumbling beneath you.

“you feel so soft,” he murmurs before he can think better of it.

you tilt your head. “my hips?”

“and your waist, and your thighs,” he drawls, and he’s not even thinking straight anymore. “everywhere.”

you stare at him, brows knit, hand pausing in his hair. “suguru,”

“yeah, baby?”

“you’re being bad again.”

he lets out a strangled breath. he’s staring at your lips, he has been for a while now, and his gaze is bleary & eyes half-lidded. “sorry mommy,” he mumbles, “are you uncomfortable?”

“no?”

“then i’m gonna kiss you now.”

“sugu—“

and he does. he pauses just slightly—just enough to let you pull away if you don’t want this, if you don’t want him—but you don’t so geto presses his lips to your own. his first thought is gloss. your lips are so glossy; strawberry sweet & sugary fake. he lets his tongue slip out to lick your mouth, before cocking his head to kiss you deeper. you squeak, moaning into his mouth, kissing him back as he presses you into him. your thighs squeeze around his waist and geto slips a groan past your lips.

“so good,” he chases your lips when you pull away to breathe, “taste so good, pretty,”

you let him press sloppy kisses to your jaw, hands still in his hair.

but geto doesn’t notice how you freeze underneath him.

TORU’S REMARK: MY ADVICE WORKED?! THIS IS WHY I’M THE BETTER TWIN!! :)

HUSBAND TACTICS #4: GO GET YOUR WIFE !

taught by: ryomen sukuna

“good progress, bud. now all you gotta do? maintain the pace. keep showing her you’re the man now.”

ΣΧ

in sigma chi’s living room, ryomen sukuna is strapped to an armchair as sato hooks him up to a birth simulator.

idiots, the both of them. it started with sukuna saying that taking care of their plastic baby isn’t much work after all, and so motherhood can’t be that bad, and giving birth must not be that bad either. sato, ever the feminist, decided to challenge him on that. now it’s a weekday evening and sato is pressing electric pads to sukuna’s belly with his tongue in his cheek. sukuna the second (their plastic baby—sukuna won the argument it seems) is crying somewhere in the distance.

“nice work, daddy geto,” sukuna hums, shifting so sato can press another pad to his belly. “you’ve gotten the girl.”

geto has. so why doesn’t he feel like it?

you kissed him back. kissed him again. in fact, he’d say he had your lips for dinner. but the texts he sent you this morning are still unread: did you sleep well? can we talk?

geto shakes his head, relaxing into the sofa with his legs spread out as he watches sato fumble with the machine. “now all you gotta do is keep up the good work,” sukuna mumbles. “easy-peasy.”

“i feel like something’s wrong,” geto plays with his necklace. “but i’m not sure what it is, exactly.”

“nothing’s wrong, dumbass,” sukuna squints, watching sato frown at the remote. “you’re just not used to being forward. months of holding back will do that to ya. what you need to do now? ramp it up. tell her you wanna put a baby in her or something. girls love that shit.”

“oh, i agree with that. it’s like saying she’s wifey type.”

“you get me, sato.”

sato grins. then he presses a button on the remote and sukuna screams.

“jesus christ of nazareth!” sukuna roars, jerking in the chair. “fuck—! turn this shit off! sato!”

sato watches him jerk with his hands on his hips, lips bent in a clumsy smile. “what? i can’t hear you over your screaming!”

suguru eyes his frat brothers, both sukuna’s—and sukuna the second’s—cries roaring in his ears. he’s still not sure why this is even happening, but he’s long concluded both his frat brothers were born with a brain. he sighs, burying his face in his hands.

he really needs to fucking see you.

#SHOW TIME !

geto wasn’t sure you’d want to see him.

but you’d already planned to meet up today; long before he kissed you on the countertop, long before he sent you six messages & deleted them all when he received no response. it would be wiser to stay home but he shows up anyway, because he’s a coward who’s trying not to be, and he hasn’t eaten anything in days because everything in the sigma chi kitchen suddenly tastes like your lips.

you greeted him with a smile on your face.

lafayette on your hip, pretty smile as you beckoned him in. said you were just about making lunch. asked him to go handle it in the kitchen because obviously you don’t want to see his face.

geto shakes his head, stares at the water running off his hands in the sink. he has to think positive.

“lafayette, baby, please don’t cry,” your voice comes from the living room. “mommy’s trying so hard—oh my god. i swear i’m gonna take out your batteries!”

geto laughs through his nose before he can think better of it.

he wipes his hands, pads over to the doorframe to watch you fuss over lafayette in the living room. you’re bouncing the plastic robot in your hands, trying to get it to stop its automated wailing. “shhh. want me to sing you a song, baby? you like songs from hamilton, right? okay, okay. why do you cry like you’re running out of time—”

lafayette screams. geto falls in love.

well he was already in love, but somehow his heart has gone sticky in his chest. it’s silly, isn’t it? but geto’s thought about it a lot. your laugh in the kitchen on sunday mornings, your contact saved with his last name, you waking him up at 3am for some ridiculous craving; and he’d get up to retrieve it, of course. because geto suguru would go to the ends of the earth for you if you’d allow it.

is it weird to think of domestic life with someone you aren’t even dating?

probably. but then he thinks about your thighs squeezing his waist on the kitchen counter, your pretty moans in his mouth, your hands in his hair—and god. god god god. geto suguru has never wanted something so badly.

so he doesn’t think too much before padding over to join you in the living room, arms wrapping around your hips. “hey.”

you tense, just a little, just enough that geto doesn’t notice, then relax into him just slightly. “hi. are you being bad again?”

he can hear the smile in your voice, but your usual playfulness isn’t as strong. “maybe. you look cute, bouncing our baby like that.”

you force a smile, eyes dropping to lafayette wailing in your arms. “well—“

“you’d make such a pretty mommy,” geto breathes, and even he’s not sure what he’s saying. all he knows is you’re warm and pretty and in his arms and it’s all he’s ever wanted, all he’ll ever want.

you don’t respond, and geto’s in his feelings now, so his mouth keeps moving: “i think about it a lot,” he murmurs. “mornings with you. you burning the eggs because you’ve never been a good cook.” his palm shifts to your belly. “and i’ll eat them anyways.”

“suguru,”

“and you’d get mad at me for eating them,” he breathes, collapsing into your neck. “tell me you don’t need my sympathy and frown up at me while bouncing our baby on your hip. and then you’d kiss me because you secretly find it sweet of me.” he breathes. “i think about it a lot.”

“you’d make such a pretty wife, such a pretty mommy,” geto breathes. and your neck is so warm, and his lips are ghosting over it, and as his palm glides over your belly his dizzy mind flashes back to sukuna’s words: girls love feeling like they’re wifey!

so he kisses your neck. “can’t wait to see you round with my baby.”

if you were tense before, you’re frozen now.

“suguru.”

“hm?”

“i’m uncomfortable.”

geto freezes.

you step out of his hold, lafayette to your chest, pretty eyes looking up at his. but you’re not looking at him with your usual fondness. your eyes are bored—unimpressed—something geto’s hazy mind can’t seem to name. your lips are tight. “i think you should take lafayette for the weekend.”

“y/n—“

“and don’t contact me,” you snap, irritated. “don’t call, text, nothing. i just—“ you bite your lip, “you need to leave, geto.”

not suguru, geto. okay. okay.

geto leaves with lafayette in his arms. his heart is still in your living room.

SUKUNA’S REMARK : WHO TOLD YOU TO SAY THAT?!

HUSBAND TACTICS #5: DIVORCE COURT !

taught by: nanami kento

“you’ve been leading with actions instead of words. are you really surprised?”

ΣΧ

is it so bad to be forward?

geto has his head on the steering wheel & his heart in his throat. lafayette is crying in the backseat but geto doesn’t care, doesn’t care to rip out the batteries or at least sing the doll to sleep. instead he grips the steering so hard his knuckles turn white.

can’t wait to put a baby in you.

why did he say that? he wants to blame it on sukuna but he can’t. geto knows it’s all on him, of course. he let himself get too love drunk, too hope drunk, too drunk on a future that will never exist. he thought about sato and sukuna who don’t think before they talk and still manage to get the girl. but life has never let him have anything easy, and with you in his arms he managed to forget that. now the only girl he’s ever wanted thinks he sees her as just flesh, and geto is a coward so he doesn’t plan to redeem himself.

it’s best to let you go.

“do you intend to drive?”

nanami’s voice is flat beside him. it’s more of a bored comment than a question, and geto lifts his head up slow. nanami kento is beach-blond hair & pressed on clothes and a bored look that never seems to leave his face. he stares at geto. geto stares back.

“i’m going through a crisis.”

“i observed. should i get toji to drive me instead?”

“have a heart, kenny,” geto slumps against the driver’s seat. nanami’s license is on a three-day suspension for being slightly tipsy while driving, and it’s unusual for kento, but we all have our problems. geto reaches for a cigar in the glove box. nanami smacks his hand away.

“this is about y/n, correct? sato told me all about it.”

of course he did—what a snitch.

geto rests his head on the wheel, careful not to let the horn sound. “is it my turn for some advice?”

“i suppose,” nanami pushes up his glasses. “did you ever try speaking english?”

geto blinks. “english?”

“the others advised you to be forward, correct?” nanami starts. “touch her, kiss her, all of it. but did you ever speak english? tell her that you liked her? wanted her?”

geto blinks. but kento’s not done.

“i heard about what happened most recently, sukuna told me all about it,” nanami sighs. “telling a woman she’d make a pretty mom. telling her you can’t wait to see her round with your baby.” kento scoffs. “you have your domestic fantasies, geto. but do you know how terrifying that is to a woman who you haven’t even told ‘i love you’?”

ah. geto knew he’d been missing something.

he’s always been a coward. at thirteen, he pierced his own ears with a ballpoint pen and hid the bleeding from his parents for weeks. at seventeen, he got his first tattoo, and charred it off with cigarette butts until all that remained was the outline. at nineteen, he kissed a girl and blocked her the next day. at twenty-two, he fucked up his chances with the only woman he’s ever loved. geto suguru has never known how to handle wanting something. he either destroys it or runs far, far away.

“so what do i do now?” geto asks, brows knit. “she told me to stay away from her.”

“then you do exactly that,” nanami’s already unbuckling his seatbelt. “give her the space she needs. you’ve crowded her for long enough, suguru.”

he has, hasn’t he?

“i’ll ask toji to give me a lift,” nanami is standing outside the car. “you’re in no condition to drive.”

nanami slams the door shut. lafayette is still crying in the backseat.

# SHOW TIME !

geto suguru is back in your room again.

not in the way he’d like, not sprawled on your bed or with you curled into his side. he’s sitting diagonally across from you on the mini-table you have laid out, because he’d tried to sit opposite you and caught the way your lip twitched with irritation.

geto is on his best behavior.

the plastic doll is asleep in its crib as you and suguru fill out spreadsheets. logs on feeding times, that sort of thing. he stares at the gleaming columns—empty. they’ve been empty for an hour now, because geto suguru can’t stop his eyes from shifting from his laptop screen to your face.

“feeding log,” you say flatly. “did you do the 2PM ?”

“yeah,” he did—he thinks. everything is blurry.

“no you didn’t,” you bite. “i’m literally looking at the column right now. it’s empty. and it shouldn’t be.”

geto’s fingers twitch over his keyboard. the spreadsheet in front of him is empty, but the previous one—the one you’re looking at—shouldn’t be. he remembers logging it yesterday with his back bent over the kitchen island, eyes clouded over, thinking, wondering if he should send you a message.

he croaks, “i did fill it in. check the—“

“you didn’t,” you snap, and geto’s never had you snap at him before so he’s not sure what to do with that. “i’m literally looking at it right now. can you please take this seriously?”

“okay,” he swallows.

you turn back to your laptop, irritated. geto fills out the spreadsheet in front of him. he won’t give you reason to be upset with him any longer.

———

the second time geto sees you after the incident, it’s at the local library.

you’re already done with today’s work, and the walk back to the residences is long & winding. geto suguru knows his place. he has his eyes down on the pavement, wind flinging his hair in his face, three feet behind you because you’d eye him if he got any closer.

you’re shivering.

and geto noticed it three minutes ago, to be honest. noticed how your shoulders hugged together, how you shoved your hands into your pockets. he should give you his jacket. you’re cold, and he doesn’t want you getting sick, and he doesn’t want you to snap at him or shoot him down but you’re cold and you’re beautiful and geto suguru is calling your name before he can think any better of it.

“y/n—here.”

he holds out his jacket. you turn back to look at the material, and then back at him.

“i don’t want it.”

he should stop. “you’re freezing. i don’t want you to catch a—“

“i’d rather freeze.” you deadpan. “can you not speak to me?”

geto bites his lip. he stops himself before he can say okay.

——

in the library’s study room, geto suguru has his head on his keyboard and eyes staring at the glass door.

his phone chimes, but he doesn’t check the message because he knows it’s just team snapchat. but then it chimes again, and geto reaches for his phone even though he knows there’s no point.

—

y/n :)

where are you

i have your location.

we need to work on the project

—

geto scrambles—actually scrambles, he accidentally knocks over the chair behind him—and then he breathes. wipes his face with his hoodie sleeves. breathes again.

when you walk in, you don’t say hi.

you sit diagonally across again, and open up your laptop. you look pretty today. hair loose over your shoulders, cheeks flushed from the weather, lashes fluttering in the light. and your lips are glossy again, like they were in the supermarket, like they were on the kitchen counter—and oh god. geto needs to stop staring.

but he doesn’t. he watches, mouth slightly agape, as your nails click at your keyboard. he can tell you’re upset or irritated, and he thinks—no, knows it’s because of him, and he really needs to get this work done so you won’t get sad and snap at him again. he doesn’t want to be in trouble. he doesn’t know what to do when you get like that. so he turns his eyes to his laptop. but somehow, they drift back to your face again.

“can you stop fucking staring at me?”

“sorry—“ he flinches. “i’m sorry, i’ll look away.”

there’s a lump in his throat. he’s looking at the screen but he can’t quite see it, and the numbers and columns have mixed together and swollen up on the page.

but you aren’t done.

“seriously, what is your problem?” you snap, irritated. “we have a project to do. and you’ve been letting your stupid feelings get in the way of it all!”

he wants to say he’s sorry again, and that his feelings aren’t stupid but he’s sorry, and it’s all he’ll ever be, but instead his voice comes out as a croak. “i’m trying.”

you stare at him in disbelief. his fingers are shaking under the table. has he always been this jumpy?

“you need to try harder,” you snarl. “or what? too busy thinking about marrying me? having me round with your baby?” he shrinks. “what the fuck, geto?”

he doesn’t know how to explain that that day in the living room he wasn’t thinking of actually giving you a baby, at least not right now. he doesn’t know how to explain that when he looks at you he thinks of forever, he wants forever, and ever since starting this project ‘forever’ has looked like wedding bells and sunday mornings and grocery runs with a mini-you in the cart. he doesn’t know how to say he wants you to be his, your last name, your everything, and it’s sick and twisted and too much too fast but geto suguru has never been able to want in increments.

so he shrinks. stares at his keyboard. you snap, “say something!”

“i’m sorry,” he croaks, eyes on his lap. “i didn’t want to—i wasn’t trying to—“

“you scared me!” you snap. “geto, you scared me. you’ve been scaring me! these last few weeks—“ you slam your book shut. “touching me. kissing me. and i don’t mind—swear to god i don’t. but you’ve been acting so weird so suddenly! saying things you’ve never said before. is this some kind of twisted roleplay?!”

geto stifles a breath. tries to count in his head so he doesn’t breakdown in front of you. he knows that wouldn’t be fair. you keep going:

“i don’t know what i’m supposed to think,” you grip the table. “my best friend of how many years gets partnered with me for a project, great! but then he starts kissing me on countertops. standing too close in grocery stores. telling me i’d make a pretty wife and mommy and—it’s weird! i don’t know where it’s coming from! he’s never said he likes me in his life, but he can’t wait to see me round with his baby?”

you’re sniffling now. “what the fuck, geto?”

your shoulders are shaking, and you’ve sat back down, and your pretty face is in your hands as you cry. geto’s heart aches. because you’re not supposed to cry because of him. because he’s not supposed to make you uncomfortable, or confused, or upset, and he’s done all of that in the span of a week. and geto’s mouth dries. he wants to pad over and hold you in his arms but he knows he doesn’t have the right to fucking do that.

he breathes in, deep.

“i’m sorry—for moving too fast,” his hands fist. “i’ve been in love with you since freshman year. and i tried, i swear i did, to show it. but you always laughed it off. and instead of telling you outright, i just got more and more aggressive with it. i think part of me has always thought you’d never feel the same,” he swallows. “so i thought it’d be safer to show it than say it out loud. but that was only safe for me.”

he bites his lip. you’re still bawling into your hands, small and terrified, and geto‘s eyes sting. he can’t believe you’re shaking because of him.

“baby—“ he catches himself, “please don’t cry,”

“i hate you,” you sob, “i’m never gonna forgive you ever.”

he swallows. “you don’t have to. but please don’t cry,” his hands tighten on his jeans. “i don’t know what to do when you cry.”

and it’s the first time geto’s been honest, because he really doesn’t know. because you’ve never cried because of him, and normally if you ever cried at all he’d drag you into his chest but right now that doesn’t feel appropriate.

but he gets up anyways.

takes your hands from your face. and you’re so gorgeous even with tears on your cheeks, eyes glistening wet, lips puffed out & nose flushed from crying. and he wants to hug you so badly, but for now he settles for crouching to your height and wiping the tears from your eyes.

you glare down at him, and he should be scared again but all he can think is that you’re so fucking cute. your nose is all puffy and your eyes slightly red. “you’re such an idiot.”

“i know.”

“and this is so cliché.”

“i know.”

“and i want you too, but slower.”

“i didn’t know that.”

“you know it now,” you curse. “you’re an idiot, i swear.”

geto breathes. and then you cup his face, watching the way his eyes glisten with wet. “you still haven’t confessed to me, suguru.”

“i love you,” he says too quickly. “since freshman year. i think about you too much. you’re always on my mind, and i don’t want anyone but you, and i love you so much y/n and i’ll love you forever if you’ll let me—“

you interrupt him with a kiss.

BONUS !

“i can’t believe he said he wants you round with his baby.”

the project is long over, and today you’re on the countertop of the sigma chi kitchen, legs swinging as you gossip with sukuna. he has your plantain chips in his hands, leaning against the counter as he eagerly munches on the snacks.

“i told him to approach you calmly and honestly, y’know? told him girls love communication,” sukuna clicks his tongue. “nobody listens to me in this household.”

you laugh, “really? that would’ve saved him a lot of trouble.”

“right?” sukuna shakes his head, passing you a plantain chip. “he’s got his brain in his ass cheeks, i swear.”

you giggle, and right then, the door swings open. sato gojo hurts in with his arms spread out in glee. “we’re back!”

geto trudges behind him, holding too many shopping bags for one person. sato has already run towards his room, leaving you and sukuna confused—but then geto drops the bags to the floor with a thud. he looks up at you. “hey,”

sukuna absentmindedly blocks your head with his own. “yo, man.”

“can you move your fat fucking head?” geto walks past him, ignoring the gasp sukuna lets out. he brackets you on the counter, forehead slightly sticky with sweat, chain glistening in the afternoon heat.

he murmurs, “hi, baby.”

“hi, handsome,” you cup his face. “back from your date with sato?”

“not a date,” he mumbles, kissing your palm, then your cheek, then your jaw. “was getting groceries.” he murmurs. “missed you so bad, pretty.”

you gigle, squeaking and squirming away as he attacks your face with kisses. he pulls back teasingly, smile smug, before you tug him back in by his chain. sukuna watches calmly, shoving another plantain chip in his mouth. he nods in approval of the flavor.

but he quickly grows bored. “don’t get too comfortable guys. i’ll whip out my dick and start stroking right now.”

“what...?”

“can you pretend to be normal?!”

before suguru can strangle sukuna, sato bounces back into the kitchen. his grin is clumsy, cap tilting off his hair, and in his hands is a machine that looks like a mini-tablet and a bunch of wires connected to pads at the ends.

sukuna’s face contorts in horror. “is that—“

“yup!” sato beams. “it’s time for round two!”

SIGMA CHI’S REMARK : NICE WORK, DADDY GETO !

# SIGMA CHI STORIES !

© HEARTKAJI. do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload.

[kkunai]

FORBIDDEN TERRITORY ˓˓ SUKUNA R.

𝜗℘ ˖ ࣪ . ˖˙ ‎ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. after wandering onto the training grounds of the estate where sukuna’s soldiers reside, an unexpected romantic confession catches you off guard. little did you know that another concubine would tell on you in hopes of getting you kicked out of the harem or worse—killed.

tags \\ warnings. true form!ryomen sukuna x concubine!female reader. angst mostly (w/ comfort, if you can call it that). fluff-ish. suggestive. make-out session near the end. size difference. reader's body referred to as small. mentions of murder, execution :: wc. 4.2k :: ac. woshihedawei on x

sukuna has known from the start that possessing a human army would cause trouble, one way or another. technically, the overpowered curse has no need for a group of soldiers. he can take up any opponent by himself.

however, he enjoyed knowing that he has full control over some weak humans who are too scared to oppose him. humans who would die for his cause, if he were to command them.

human shields: that’s what he calls them.

“speak up or leave,” the king of curses commands, piercing red eyes glaring down at the woman kneeling before him. he sits on his throne, the aura emitting from his body being one that would send anyone into sheer panic.

he’s already pissed off due to being disturbed by one of his concubines. It isn’t you—his favorite—so he has little patience to spare for the girl at his feet.

the blond girl speaks up after taking a deep breath. she came here determined to go through with her sick plan, hoping sukuna would hear her out. she knows of his favoritism—everyone around the estate did and nearly every other concubine has been thinking of the same.

to get rid of the blatant favoritism once and for all.

the nervous woman talks fast, stuttering after every word. she spills every detail about the predicament that you had found yourself in a couple moments ago.

. . .

you were walking around the training grounds out of pure curiosity. usually, no one would be there around that hour, yet today seemed to be an exception. you averted your eyes the second you saw the soldiers training in only their hakama. their muscular chests and backs were out in the open, straight up eye candy for anyone who was walking past.

however, when they saw you—sukuna’s favorite concubine who they’ve secretly developed a crush on—they froze in their place and nearly dropped their weapons. the men didn’t expect any visitors, especially not a high-ranking concubine to randomly walk through this part of the estate. it’s a rare occurrence to have anyone but the servants and generals walk by.

you silently bowed at them out of respect. you didn’t have to due to your high rank, yet you still did. you actually respect their position as soldiers. that humble nature of yours was exactly what separated you from the other concubines. it also played a huge role in the crushes that those soldiers have on you.

out of fear for their lives, the soldiers have never directly interacted with you. they heard of what happened to one of the male servants who tried asking you to accompany him for a cup of tea. his body was reduced to nothing but a puddle of dark, red blood which took the servants hours to fully clean up.

but now that you were alone, without sukuna in sight, the soldiers were braver. one of them grabbed the opportunity and started walking towards you as you stood on the engawa, simply admiring the koi pond nearby. the group of men watched from a distance as their friend attempted to make a move on you. it was the perfect opportunity to convey his feelings for you.

or so he thought.

sukuna’s eyes are everywhere. even if you think he isn’t looking, he simply is. his informants are lurking from every corner. his concubines, chefs, servants, maids and guards. all of them are his eyes and ears. you’re never fully alone. nothing you do escapes the king of curses. if you’re not being watched by him, the people under his control are lurking instead.

in that instant, it was one of his concubines who had discreetly followed you.

you had noticed it a while ago, though didn’t say a word. it’s a usual occurrence. the other women always try to catch you off guard. to catch you doing something that you’re not allowed to do, so they can report it to sukuna, hoping that it would get you expelled from his harem. perhaps even executed in front of their eyes.

although every time they report something ‘controversial’ about you to sukuna, it backfires, and they end up with their head on the guillotine.

despite the many failures, they simply cannot stop trying. one day it will work.

the blonde woman had witnessed how the soldier put his hand on your arm to stop you from walking away. the cheesy smiles he had given you betrayed his true feelings—the words he uttered after the formalities only further confirmed the concubine’s speculations.

“i’ve been admiring you for a while now. you’re a lovely lady...”

“perhaps it’s bold of me to ask this, but i would like the opportunity to get to know you better.”

“lord sukuna does not need to know of this. i promise not to tell him, so please don’t worry.”

. . .

“...that’s exactly what that soldier told her, my lord,” the concubine concludes her story with a shaky breath. the throne room is filled with a tense and rather uncomfortable silence. the woman can’t even lift her head up because of how scared she is of sukuna’s wrath. she’s scared of the fact that she could be the first one he kills in a rampage fueled by pure envy.

the curse simply stares at the top of the blonde’s head. his expression is unreadable, but the veins in his neck and on his forehead slowly yet surely start to become visible. his blood is boiling, causing his jaw to clench and his hands to ball into fists.

without a word, sukuna stands up from his throne. the air in the room turns suffocating—the concubine could barely breathe. it’s as if there’s an invisible weight pressing on her chest, making her struggle to get any oxygen in her lungs.

a rough hand reaches out to grab ahold of her hair. sukuna’s fingers curl around the locks and roughly yanks the girl’s head back, forcing her to look up. his face is close to hers; his eyes are wide and glowing an intimidating red.

“woman,” his voice has a dangerous tone to it as he speaks up. he grips her hair tighter, until she lets out a pained sob as a few of her blond strands float down onto the cold floor, “you know what happens if you lie to me, correct?”

the blond concubine swallows thickly as the tears prickle her eyes. she nods, already aware of the risks she is taking. “yes, my lord. i… i promise it is not a lie,” she whimpers. perhaps her promise isn’t worth trusting, considering the infinite number of times that sukuna’s concubines have tried to sabotage his favorite girl, but the least she can do is try and convince him. to get one step closer to her goal.

the king of curses releases her head with a rough push that sends her onto her hands and knees. his intense gaze is focused on the big, heavy doors that lead down the many corridors of the estate. sukuna grits his teeth to the point he can nearly feel them crack— how dare a lowlife try to make a move on you, in his territory? his home?

a lowly human he has granted the privilege to even breathe the same air as him, nonetheless.

death shall await that piece of shit. everyone who has seen the situation play out and hasn’t done a thing to stop it or report it, will surely meet their demise as well. heavy footsteps and the deafening sounds of doors slamming open alert every living being around the estate. the air turns tense as they scramble to hide and stay out of sight of the one who’s currently making his way to the training grounds.

. . .

you’re sitting at a pavilion near the area you had visited roughly an hour ago. your eyes take in the beautiful surroundings: the sakura trees, the neatly cut bushes and the hint of the distant mountains that peek above the walls enclosing the estate. being here puts your mind at ease, even amongst all the chaos that you have withstood within those same walls.

you think back to the man who had spoken to you a couple moments ago. the way he spoke so bravely to you, knowing it could mean death if anyone were to report it to sukuna. it sure made you respect his courage. even if you did reject his offer—out of pure fear for his life and your own.

besides, you have developed a strange longing for the ruthless curse over the course of your stay. sukuna might still lack in some aspects, but something about him is attracting you and you cannot resist it. that connection between the two of you is something undeniable. something that will not die out any time soon.

you get up to go to your chambers. you’ve been here for too long while you’re not quite supposed to be roaming these places on your own. you lift your kimono a little, walking down the three steps and onto the gravel path. while you’re walking back, a couple noises from inside of the main building catch your attention.

sounds of struggle. you’ve heard those sounds enough times before to be able to recognize them with ease. you watch as guards step out into the engawa, down onto the pebbles that stretch over the entire yard. they’re pulling along a couple of blindfolded and tied up men. it looks exactly like what it is: an execution.

your throat dries up as you freeze in place. you’re not supposed to witness any of this. you’ve known of the executions that take place around the manor but have never seen them firsthand. you carefully hide your face, so the guards don’t recognize you and alert sukuna that you’re wandering around this part of his territory.

your eyes are downcast as you try to make a run for it from the sidelines, attempting to sneak into the building. this is none of your business. you don’t want to see it. you truly cannot do anything to save those souls—your word is not final around here.

you don’t recognize who those poor men are, until you hear one of them plead for his life. you’re about to successfully sneak past the many guards, however your head whips to the side out of pure shock once you hear that familiar voice. that smooth and charming voice. your eyes scan the bodies of the group that’s about to be executed.

those clothes. the group is wearing the same pants that those soldiers had on. the haircuts, their voices… there is no doubt about it.

“what—” you’re about to speak up – revealing your identity in hopes of getting answers and perhaps delay the execution with the little power you have - when you’re interrupted.

how could you not have noticed that imposing figure making its way towards you before eventually coming to a stop at your face?

you don’t know what to do or say. it’s like you have met a dead end. you can’t go back, nor can you move forward as a wall of muscles cage you into place. you don’t have time to react before sukuna’s fingers move up to wrap around your throat. he doesn’t hold on tight, at least not to the point that it hinders your airway. it’s a rather possessive gesture, a warning to not move or try anything funny.

“stay,” sukuna orders. you know you cannot defy him in any way, thus you do as told. you catch a glimpse of a silhouette behind the pink-haired man. A frown settles on your face the second you notice who it belongs to. that damned woman. . . she subtly shoots you a grin, one that makes your stomach churn and your blood boil.

you had been too reckless. you should have known that she would tell on you. if only you didn’t come around this area, none of this would have happened. those poor souls would not be lined up in a row in the yard, awaiting their inevitable end by the hands of the curse everyone fears. you feel like it’s all your fault and that nearly sends you spiraling.

“’lord sukuna doesn’t have to know,’ huh?” sukuna mocks with a dry laugh. a shiver runs down your spine once you realize what he is referring to. those courageous words that have been uttered to you today. you swallow thickly as you’re forced to lock eyes with the enraged curse in front of you.

he scoffs and turns your head to look at the blindfolded soldiers who are kneeling on the gravel, “how cute. which one of ‘em said that to you?”

you’re unable to immediately answer sukuna. there’s simply no way out of this. he will know the truth one way or another. the other concubine standing behind him will surely spill the beans if you lie. your punishment will be worse if you’re caught lying and the thought alone makes you panic internally.

“answer me,” the king of curses demands. his fingers tighten the grip around your neck, his face leaning in right in front of yours. it’s terrifying, really, even if you know sukuna wouldn’t physically hurt you in any way. at least not badly.

he emphasizes his demand with a subtle threat, “and don’t you dare lie.”

it’s futile lying to sukuna anyway. your eyes fill up with tears from the pure pressure you are experiencing. you look over the group of soldiers that are on their knees, waiting to be executed. just a few moments ago, they were laughing with each other while practicing their skills, not having a clue of what would happen. you grit your teeth. life is unfair.

you refuse to point at anyone, but your gaze does linger on one soldier on the far right. that instantly catches sukuna’s attention and he makes a mental note of it. he isn’t dumb: he is aware that you’re softhearted and selfless. you wouldn’t publicly expose anyone, because you’re afraid of what he will do to them if he were to find out.

“hm.” sukuna possesses enough information. he releases you with a slight push, all four of his eyes focused on that specific soldier. an ominous silence fills the air before you’re excused with a quick gesture of his hands. the king of curses wordlessly commands the guards to draw their swords; not a single life would be spared.

why? because the other soldiers are just as guilty. not reporting to sukuna about the behavior of their follow squad member is an act of treason by itself. besides, sukuna doesn’t really need those soldiers any longer. he can always assemble another group of weak men and put them on the front lines, to play the role of human shields.

his arms are crossed as he stares each of them down. he is about to tell the first guard to start the execution when he feels you tug at the sleeve of his yukata.

you gulp as you cling onto the fabric. you’re trying your best to change his mind. as his favorite, perhaps you had that power. to stop the blood hungry curse that lives for death and chaos. “pleqse don’t—" you open your mouth, only for one of his hands to grab you by your jaw.

“y’ don’t get to tell me what to do, brat,” sukuna answers in a low, dangerous voice. he taps your cheek twice to remind you of your place. he pushes you aside, causing you to stumble backwards into the building. be may be ruthless, but not to the point where he’d force you to witness the slaughter that’s about to take place.

“i’ll deal with ya later,” he adds with a faint huff. he quickly waves you off, “now, move.”

all you can do is stare at sukuna’s back before slowly retreating into the estate. you feel sick. you feel like you’re going to throw up as you scurry past the concubine who also makes her way back to her chambers, the woman still grinning from ear to ear.

heads will roll because of you. again.

. . .

the estate is unusually quiet around this hour. not a single soul had the guts to get out of their chambers after word spread that another execution took place. this time it was a group of soldiers, all of them taken out without a warning. they fear they’re next—not even your own lady-in-waiting dares to talk to you for the time being.

you’re laying on your bed, unable to sleep your worries away. the warmth underneath your sheets gives you a sense of comfort, but it isn’t enough to drive the negative thoughts away. you only lift your head up from the pillow when the doors to your room slide open. you heart nearly stops beating in your chest as you see sukuna stroll inside like nothing happened.

his footsteps are heavy against the wooden flooring. you sit up out of habit, to greet him. your eyes are downcast, however. you know a punishment awaits you as well. you don’t think he will expel you from his harem nor get rid of you in any way. he would have done so the moment he’s seen you back at the training grounds if that were to be the case.

sukuna sits on the edge of your bed, crossing all four of his arms. he sighs the second he sees the gloomy expression on your face. his hand reaches out, fingers pushing some of the hairs back from your face.

he doesn’t speak up for a minute, simply allowing you to gather your thoughts. his index finger and thumb glide down to grasp your chin— a gentle yet firm touch. “y’ see what happens when you disobey me?”

sukuna’s reminder sure was a violent one, but that’s to be expected from a disaster curse like him. of course he wouldn’t change his violent nature for you; you should’ve expected that. you shouldn’t have become so delusional, so blinded because of the fact that you’re his favorite.

perhaps the special treatment is getting to your head. it’s making you feel like you have a chance at taming a monster.

especially now, as sukuna climbs onto your bed and leans back against the headboard, pulling your small body onto his lap. the duality is messing with your brain and making you unable to fully despise the man in front of you.

“yes, my lord,” you take a deep breath before eventually answering with those three words. you’re a weak woman, melting right into the embrace of the man you’re supposed to hate. you cannot help yourself as you feel those big hands rub up and down your sides.

“good,” sukuna’s signature smirk tugs at his lips. you’re easy to distract, easy to please. looking at you from up close like this is somehow soothing the anger inside him. he’s supposed to punish you for disobeying his orders— for going somewhere you’re not supposed to. for interacting with a man who tried to approach you romantically.

yet he cannot bring himself to continue his rough lecture. seeing you become all putty in his hands puts his mind at ease. hurting you? kicking you out of his harem? killing you? no, none of that. all those evil thoughts are thrown out of the window the second your body made contact with his.

sukuna doesn't know whether to dislike or enjoy the undeniable power you have over him. if it was any of his other concubines in your position, he would've executed them right beside those soldiers. maybe it is a sick and twisted sense of love that he has for you.

even if love is a foreign thing to a cold-blooded curse like him.

“y’re lucky i still have some use for you,” sukuna comments as his big hand moves up to rub your head, subtly ruffling your hair.

his actions are in contrast with his words. his words carry the hard 'truth', reminding you of your place as his concubine. but his actions tell you that you’re more than that to him. more than just a toy to his collection.

his fingers trace your cheek, your jaw and down to the collar of your kimono. he slips two digits between the gaps of the fabric and traces your cleavage. your heart rate picks up, which the king of curses easily senses. he shakes his head with a dry and nearly condescending laugh.

you’re easy. easy to pacify, easy to shut up with just a couple touches. that’s also what he likes about you. the fact that you’re so submissive to him when you need to be.

sukuna traces the curves of your perky breasts, “y’ should just look pretty for me like this—listen to me and not get into trouble.”

goosebumps appear on your skin from the sensual touch. a shiver runs down your spine as the tips of his fingers nearly touch your sensitive buds before retreating. it’s a tease meant to drive you crazy, to get you riled up only for nothing to happen.

sukuna leans in and nips at the skin near your throat. his breath is hot and heavy against your neck, his kisses are chaste and tingly. two of his hands pull your upper body against his until you’re chest to chest. his lips find your shoulder, fingers loosening the kimono to expose your sensitive flesh.

“none of this would’ve happened if ya jus’ listened, hm?” sukuna whispers in a rough tone. he knows it’s not fully your fault—that stupid soldier shouldn’t have made a move on you in the first place. although, he can’t help but play mindgames with you. to mold you into the perfect woman for him.

and you fall right into his trap. “sorry. won't do it again,” you reply in a quiet whisper. your own hands clench onto the fabric of his black yukata, eyes closed and head tilted to give sukuna better access to your neck. he appreciates your thoughtfulness as his teeth sink into your flesh.

“hah. that’s what y’ say every time,” the pink-haired curse clicks his tongue. one of his hands moves to the back of your head, fingers curling into the strands of your hair. he tugs at them so you can face him properly.

“. . .such a little brat,” sukuna’s eyes roam over your facial features and down to your body. he gives you a subtle grin before his lips meet yours in a bruising kiss.

you should be feeling guilty for being part of the reason why an entire group of people have lost their lives, yet here you are, shamelessly making out with their executer.

the love you share is toxic, but addictive. you find yourself crawling back to sukuna each time you promise not to fall for his tricks. and the same goes for him.

the king of curses finds himself tolerating more and more of your behavior—behavior that would have others in their grave. no matter what you say or do, he keeps you alive. he simply punishes you in other ways than death, even when death is all he knows.

sukuna bites on your bottom lip which causes your mouth to open. he takes advantage of it and slips his tongue inside, mixing his saliva with yours. he groans against your lips due to the pure pleasure he receives from your kisses.

you pull away suddenly, feeling lightheaded from the lack of air you were getting. the man in front of you scoffs and flicks your forehead for that, grumpy again because you decided to bring an end to his pleasure.

sukuna allows you a little break, however. he brings his mouth to your ear and you swear you can hear the smirk on his lips as he speaks. “y’re mine. don’t you forget,” he mutters to you in a low tone.

you nod without hesitation, “all yours.”

you will never forget that. no matter what you do or where you go— you’re still sukuna’s. in every way possible. there is no escaping him. no one can take you away from him, as you’ve been reminded of an hour ago.

not another man, nor another woman. not even his other concubines can get you out of his sight. they may continue to scheme, but they won’t succeed.

what happened today is still replaying in the back of your mind as the make out session develops into something more. you’ve pushed the guilt, sadness and shame aside for the time being, though you know that those emotions will come crashing down after this is done.

death is inevitable around this place. you’ve grown a bit desensitised to it and have accepted your fate a long time ago when you realised that you had somehow done the impossible.

now you—and the others—are actively suffering the consequences;

the consequences of making the ryomen sukuna fall in love.

[kkunai]

[𝜗℘] :: only you are worthy to kiss true form!sukuna & no one else :: tags. concubine!reader, fluff, suggestive.

you’re standing at the entrance of the estate, along with some other concubines. four of them. uraume is there with you as well. you’re all awaiting the one person you’re serving; ryomen sukuna.

it’s silent. the women don’t dare to speak up nor do they dare address you in a menacing manner because of uraume’s presence. you’re thankful for them. you really don’t want to have another petty fight with the concubines. not before your little trip to the village nearby.

you’re all accompanying sukuna to meet up with an infamous clan leader. it’s official business, but you’re needed as a sign of your lord’s high status. you’re basically his trophies that he likes to show off.

“interesting choice of clothing,” sukuna finally shows up. you all bow, showing respect. you look up and only then realise that he’s addressing you. his eyes wander over your figure, “who’s chosen that for you?”

you glance down at your kimono. it’s a beautiful red—suiting the color of sukuna’s eyes. your hair is put up in a neat bun, with a matching crimson hairpin that represented who you belong to.

him.

“my lady-in-waiting, my lord,” you say quietly. you cannot see it, yet can easily feel it; the jealous glares from the four women. they’re dressed in the exact same color red, yet their lord hasn’t paid them any mind. not even a glance.

sukuna just hums in response and makes a mental note of your answer. at least his human servants are good for something. he continues to shamelessly check you out.

“lord sukuna,” uraume interrupts carefully. they bow their head once the king of curses looks their way with a stoic expression, “we’ll have to leave now if we wish to make it there at dawn.”

it’s a gentle reminder, but there’s some urgency in their voice. sukuna rolls his eyes—he may have some official business, but he’s not attending that. not before taking care of other more important stuff first. “silence,” he comments to uraume, heavy steps heading your way afterwards.

your eyes meet his. you blink in confusion, eyelashes fluttering. the sight makes sukuna’s hands twitch at his sides. the way you stare up at him with such naïveté is making him want to destroy it.

you’re unsure what sukuna wants from you. as he orders, everyone stays quiet. you watch as his big hands wrap around your body—your waist engulfed by his warm palms. your eyes widen, but before you can question his actions, your lips are sealed by his.

it’s rare that he does this. kissing sukuna is a privilege. one that no one has ever gotten the honour of having, except for you.

you’ve tasted him. you’ve felt his tongue slither against yours. you’ve had his saliva mix with yours. you’ve had him grunting in your mouth.

you’ve had it all.

no one says a thing. even as your feet are lifted from the ground by the sheer strength of sukuna’s grip on your small body. to reach his lips properly, he has to pick you up and hold you against his chest. it’s his favorite thing to do.

“pretty thing,” sukuna coos with a grin. you can feel his lips curling up menacingly against your mouth. it makes you whine. you instantly shut up once you realise that you’re still outside and surrounded by others—who are basically waiting on you two to be done.

you’re embarrassed to the point that you want nothing more than to hide your face against sukuna’s chest. but he will not let you until he’s had his fill. your tongues swirl around each other passionately, followed by him sucking on your bottom lip and biting it with his sharp fangs.

“my lord,” you whine quietly. you know this’ll end up like that one time in the garden. where he shamelessly took you in front of his servants. you’re unsure if it’s a smart thing to do right now. sukuna has an appointment to go to after all.

his mouth doesn’t stop interlocking with yours. his thick fingers tug at the hairs on the back of your neck, causing you to part your lips in surprise. the king of curses takes his chance and explores your warm little mouth. the one that he’s claimed as his the moment you became his concubine.

you tug at his sleeve as a reminder. sukuna grumbles in annoyance, but he knows you’re right; he should let go. his bottom set of eyes dart over to uraume for a second and upon seeing their expressionless yet determined face, he sighs.

all that official business can suck his dick.

sukuna finally detaches his lips from your now wet and swollen ones. you’re breathing hard, trying to catch your breath. you’re flustered to the point you actually bury your face into sukuna’s chiseled chest. you’re sure this’ll be the only talk around the estate for the upcoming week. you’ll become the victim of some more. . . bullying.

the king of curses notices that you don’t let go of him at all. he grins at the sight of you so desperately clinging onto him. he tries to undo the little mess he made of your once neat hair in the meantime.

“what? want me to carry you all the way there, doll?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, teasing you as per usual. you don’t let go of him since you’re still cooling off. you’ve never really kissed outside of the bedroom. it always happens behind closed doors, so this one time took you by surprise.

you shake your head and plop down on your feet again. “no, my apologies, my lord,” you straighten the material of your kimono and don’t even dare to look at the others. uraume would understand, since they’re used to their lord’s antics, but the concubines will cause big trouble once you’re back home.

sukuna nods in acknowledgment. he still got that evil smirk on his face. his thumb brushes the smudged lipstick from the corner of your mouth, cleaning up his mess once again. he’s nice enough to do so today.

“heh.” sukuna lets out an amused chuckle before walking away and ahead of you—the others silently following, as do you. you’re right behind him, on his right side, as he turns his head to yours, “just so y’know, i’m not done with you.”

you know sukuna isn’t. you can easily tell by the way that he didn’t even bother to wipe the lipstick from his own lips. he’s wearing that stain like it’s a medal of sorts. evidence that you’re the only one he’s ever going to show such affection to.

either way; you’re in for one hell of a ride once you’re back from your little business trip.

[vialesanaaa]

[getosbabymuva]

ovulating