𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇

𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔𝒾𝓃' 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝓀𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓈𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓃𝒶𝒹𝑒 ⋆˚ '¹⁸ ๋

[kentosbby]

nirya ˚˖𓍢ִ໋˚ ♡ eighteen [ mdni! ] ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ @kentosbby

ৎ୭ 𝓈𝒽𝑒'𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓂𝓈 𝓁𝓎𝒾𝓃' 𝑜𝓃 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓃𝓉, 𝓊𝓅 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓁, ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴛʜᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴏʀᴍꜱ.

—Arctic Monkeys

me. ❀˖°. mlist. ❀˖°. rules.

Do not repost/translate (w/o consent), copy, or feed my works to ai. All rights reserved. 𓏲 ๋࣭ kentosbby © 2024-2026

[mintmatcha]

getting high with your guy best friend and he starts listing reasons you should let him put his cock inside you

[mintmatcha]

halfway through his list of reasons he's toying with himself through his pants, stroking and moving it, showing off the outline. his other hand is over your shoulder, gently brushing fingertips over your tit.

"you know i'm huge, right?" he says. "Pornstar big."

"Shut up."

"i'm serious. im massive. touch it and see."

when you go to reach, he's pushing down his pants to give you a proper handful of the biggest cock you've ever seen-

"holy shit. that'll break me."

"god, i hope so."

[kentosbby]

Satoru Gojo? That you?

[wistfulyears]

i have something worse than an oral fixation !nothingnothingnothing! gets me hottr and more psychotic than thinking about sucking pope's dick. it does it for me every single fucking time, and when fics don't have it, i get unreasonably sad. there's certain characters that have extra suck-able dicks and he is one of them !!! guys, we have to suck his dick !!!

especially when thinking about how, canonically, pope is rlly intimacy-avoidant - he would hesitate to even let you. 'i don't... it doesn't go in there, it shouldn't...' he would think it's filthier than fucking you because he's so vulnerable and because you're sooo insatiable. he'd hyperventilate, eyes wild watching you on your knees, choking and gagging, spilling spit and pre-cum all over yourself. you'd stroke him and tell him how big he is, how much you love him and his cock, and he'd look at the ceiling, balling his hands up against his chest. as his orgasm would build, he'd get closer and closer to crying and eventually make you stop before he even came because he was too scared. you'd have to work up to eye-contact, work up to orgasms, and train him to take control. but even as he fucked your face, he'd feel like a sick deviant, defiling you. and worse, he likes that. it's his true nature and he can't face it, or you :(

[kentosbby]

Oh god I absolutely love this

[mintmatcha]

sexpollen but both of you HATEEE what's happening and just cant stop your bodies

[mintmatcha]

"you're disgusting," as you wrap your legs around his ass. "stop cumming in me-- oh, my god--"

"Stop cumming on my cock!" he's ramming into you as hard as he can, slamming the headboard into the wall with every stroke. "cant pull out when you're dr-dripping down my balls and... god, fuck, when your body does that-"

his head dips down to suck your tits into his mouth and the sensation makes your body twitch and kick-

warmth pulses inside you

"I can feel it, that's so gross," you whine. "i hate you-"

"I hate you more-" he grunts.

[kentosbby]

This with suguru geto 🤭

[richeeduvie]

And while we're on the subject of domming Jack, imagine the heaven that is you making him clean up the aftermath, after he's burst his ropes of cum inside your squeezing cunt. As you're leaking, still slick. Definitely sweaty.

You press a lingering kiss to his forehead before sliding off him to straddle his face. His stubble tickles.

You sit. His nose presses against your cunt in a way that makes you clench around nothing.

"Clean me up, Jackie."

Jack doesn’t hesitate, even though you're sure he wants to force you to ask politely. With the pretty please you usually give while he's domming you.

His tongue dives into your folds and laps at your juices. He can't help but suck your clit, and you can't help but moan shyly, as if you didn't just ride him to hell.

"How does your cum taste?"

"...Okay."

The muffled answer vibrates against your cunt. You hum.

Jack's usually the clean freak out of the two of you. It only makes sense that you make your filthy doctor clean up the mess he made. And considering how he bucks his shrinking, sticky fat cock into the air like he's still fucking you as he does, you're sure he doesn't mind.

"You gotta give yourself more credit than that, Daddy. You always taste good when I have you."

Jack only seals his lips around your clit tightly. Your hips grind against his face as he devours the cocktail of slick, sweat, and tasty cum.

"M'kay, baby. Whatever."

...Yeah. He doesn't mind at all.

[fricks]

"give me another" ☆

satoru can't handle another. he's cum so many times that he's sobbing, his legs are shaking so much that you're almost concerned. you've been riding him for hours now, milking his dick over and over again: being filled up and fucked out and somehow managing to maintain the upper hand.

your boyfriends so weak, though, that he probably couldn't flip you over and fuck you if he tried. but he's got the strength to beg, so beg he will.

"please, baby, i can take another orgasm. i'll be okay."

"you'll pass out."

"and you are well within your rights to keep fucking me if i do!"

you slow the roll of your hips gradually, as to not deny him completely. he's looking at you with these blown out eyes, pooling with tears and lust and love beyond romance. it's spiritual. or he's just really cum drunk.

"alright," you lean down and press a kiss to the tip of his nose. "i'll make you a deal: i'll stay still and if you can thrust up enough to make yourself cum, so be it."

"cardio?" satoru whines.

"problem? i can pull off and we can-"

you're jolted by a sudden harsh thrust upwards. satoru bullies his cock deep into you, enough to force the air from your lungs.

"no problem," he grins. "i love cardio."

[kentosbby]

He's such a brat

[evfers]

suguru is so mean :(

mdni

This man is so fucking irritating in the best way possible.

He loves taunting you when you’re crying under him as his veiny, warm, bulging cock slides inside your little wet, creamy pussy. When you tell him to have some sort of mercy on your already well-fucked cunt, he just mimics your plead and challenge you to do something about it. Knowing you can’t.

“Ohhh!”

He copied your moan again in your ear, grinning smugly. He knows exactly what he’s doing when he’s fucking you like this—his cock is just so huge. You want him to stop teasing you. He’s been doing this for several hours and it’s making you sad. You don’t like this game anymore. “Stop d-doing that!” You sniffled and swallowed. He hums teasing. “Mmmh..” he pretends to think about it and deadpans his voice. “No.”

“Wha?” You look at him with puppy eyes at his answer. He has you in a locked full Nelson, his undeniable strength is keeping you in place. He repeats after you in your whiny tone and exaggerates it. “Wha?” You see his grin grow. Before you can respond he purposely speeds up inside you. You squeal and moan. “H-heyyy!” Now he’s ignoring you and fucks your pussy like a sex toy. “Do something about it. Crybaby.” He says. You click your teeth in irritation and sadness.

You can’t do anything about it.

“Sh-shut the fuck up!” He’s hitting all your nerves.

“No.” He simply denies.

His hips go faster into you and you’re on the edge of sobbing. “Stop it!” You cry, voice raw. “Mh-mhh..” he says teasingly. He knows you hate it when he’s teasing you during sex. Because then it just turns into him just being a meanie to you and your pussy. “Stop ittt!” He mocks you again. He bounces you on his cock and you sob harder, he has to and will make sure you feel it until your wailing. “Just a little crybaby, hm?” You want to just cry. It’s so embarrassing and humiliating. It’s true though, you do cry a lot when you’re overstimulated. So now he’s just pointing it out. You try to defend yourself but then he’ll just go faster and further prove his point when more sobs come from you.

“I hate YOUUUUUHHH!!”

“Oh please, cry me a river. Crybaby.”

And he makes you take it—you scream and squeal until all you can do is cry pathetic sobs as he fucks your pussy into a sickening orgasm. And then he makes you take more because your cries are so cute.

ꉂ (′̤ॢ∀ ू‵̤๑))ˉ̞̭♡ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡: @cuntphoric-main @zukobendsme @cuntphoric @nonamedreams @lilithkleia @levisfatjuicycock @sapph22 @manonism @insanjity @cypresseddd @stqrgumi @lemonzie @angelicwhispersofsin @sugusplaything @dearkuna @izuruverse @serpenttine @daflex @animewhoreswrld @yoonsucks @iloveyachisomuchaaa

[richeeduvie]

Jack complains about taking care of you so much that, to anyone who doesn’t know him, it might sound as though your pregnancy has made his life unbearable.

But Robby knows his best friend very well.

"I’m telling you, kid's become completely helpless."

Jack says it while signing off on a chart with his mouth thinly pinched. What is he doing? Detailing a crisis? Not exactly. Robby keeps his eyes on his own screen because he knows making eye contact with the guy will only encourage him.

"Sounds awful for you."

"You trying to be funny? She can't reach her feet anymore."

Jack’s voice drops on the last few words, deepened by something he probably hopes passes as frustration. Robby types into his notes.

Yeah, see right through you, brother.

"Sounds like a fairly predictable consequence of being heavily pregnant."

Jack sighs. "Yeah, well, apparently that means I’m a full-service salon now."

Robby has to glance over at that. The father-to-be's still pretending to read the chart in front of him. His brows are furrowed, his nose slightly flared with every wrinkled line of his face morphed into performative irritation, but there’s a small lift at the corner of his mouth.

...He's disgustingly pleased.

Robby lets out a slow breath as Jack rambles on. This is what friends do, right?

"Shaving her legs. Putting that oil on her stomach. Lotion on her back. In the afternoon, she woke me up because her feet were dry."

"That's basically an emergency. You say no?"

Jack's brows raise. Robby almost snorts, but he doesn't, cause he's not as suicidal as he once was.

Alright, the suggestion alone is insulting. Sunshine could wake Jack whenever the hell she wanted, and he'd be halfway to doing whatever she asked him to do before she even finished speaking. That's his bad.

"She’s carrying my kid. I’m not gonna let her heels crack open."

Robby finally is brave enough to lock eyes with Jack. He looks tired, the shadows under his eyes are darker than usual, and it's probably because the love of his life now requires assistance rolling out of bed.

And yet...he's so fucking smug about it. He's loving every damn second. Good for him, but why lie about it?

"Most people complain because they don’t want to do something."

"I don't want to. She makes me use too much lotion. It gets everywhere. The sheets, my shirt---"

Robby sets down his tablet.

"You could stop helping."

...He's a little too satisfied to catch Jack's offended snap of his eyes. He sits down in the rolling chair as the guy, again, continues to ramble on. And on. And on.

Only you are deserving of such passion, Sunshine. Jeezus.

"I told you, she can't reach. She shouldn't have to strain."

Robby shrugs. "You could buy her one of those long-handled applicators. It's got a pad on the end. She could do her own back---"

"No. Those things are unsanitary."

Oh brother.

"...M'pretty sure you can wash them...unless the last ten minutes you spent pretending your pregnant girlfriend allowing you to rub her body every morning is some kind of hardship is just that...pretending."

Jack's nose flares. Robby's heart drops. That could've been a little too much for him.

"It isn’t like that. It's for medical purposes. It's good for her circulation when I help her."

He stares at the guy.

You lotioning her ass for circulation, Jack?

...Okay. Robby doesn't know where you're putting the lotion, but knowing you with Sunshine, he's got a pretty good idea.

Jack scratches his neck, rolling his shoulders. "I’m not gonna make her do all that herself, Robby. You're right, maybe I'm just nitpicking. It's not the worst. She sits between my legs. I do the belly first. Then her sides. Lower back if she can stand it."

...Okay. There's the real reason for his "whining". He wants to talk about it. Robby should've guessed that.

Jack wants to talk about it. He wants Robby to picture you nesting yourself between his thighs, round with his baby, lifting your shirt and trusting him to tend to every sensitive inch.

"Glad you got a system for your hardships, Jack. Sounds like an efficient routine."

"You need one. Otherwise, she gets impatient."

Robby nods like he could ever believe this bullshit, blinking slowly.

"Mm. God forbid."

Jack thinks about it in the truck. He doesn't have it in him to admit he's pathetic enough to sit in traffic as he fantasizes about moisturizing you. He just knows what comes next.

You’ll be in bed, probably wearing one of his shirts pulled up over your stomach. You’ve started waiting there for him during his final hour of work, surrounded by pillows, sending increasingly dramatic updates.

your daughter has lodged her foot beneath my rib. bring pudding or don’t come home

He stops for pudding before going home. He locks the door and checks it twice before moving through the house.

"Kid?"

"In here!"

Jack smiles, and by the time he enters the bedroom, his undershirt sleeves are pushed to his forearms, pudding and spoon in one hand.

You’re sitting against the headboard, pink pajama shorts beneath your stomach and one of his old shirts gathered underneath your tits.

Your belly shines softly in the sunlight. You smile at him.

"Hi, Daddy."

Jack stops.

His eyes remain on your stomach. There’s a sheen over it with a lack of the soft dryness that waits for his palms every morning and evening.

You’re already lotioned.

The fuck?

"Oh! My pudding, you're the best!"

You don’t appear to notice the shift in him. You’re too busy reaching for the pudding cup and spoon. He put the rest in the fridge.

He stands beside the bed, waiting. For what, he doesn’t know. Maybe for you to explain yourself. But you just eat your pudding, round and comfortable and glossy without him.

Jack sits on the edge of the mattress, breathing low.

"You already moisturized?"

You lick pudding from the spoon. He swallows.

"Mhm. I was getting itchy---"

"I was coming home. You couldn’t wait?"

Your brows rise, and Jack can't give a shit over how unreasonable he sounds.

"For lotion, Jack? Wait, are you pouting?"

...But he hears it then. He's apparently wearing it too. Fuck.

[kentosbby]

ehehe I love this

[ryoride]

ꮼ HOW DEEP IS YOUR LOVE? IS IT LIKE THE OCEAN !

cw: est. relationship, suggestive, men who yearn, physical affection, PDA, gifts, kissing mentioned, high effort boyfriend, & not proofread

ⓘ Featuring 𝓑𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝓑𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝓚𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎

boyfriend!bokuto is a die-hard romantic, even though his primary love language is physical touch, he never fails to express his love in new sweet ways.

Buying you small trinkets from everywhere he visits, small sketches on napkins whenever you head into American buffets, & the sweetest of all, he writes love letters whenever he misses you.

boyfriend!bokuto loves showing you affection—after a long practice, he'll come home, wrap his muscular arms around your waist & start pressing kisses to your shoulder between telling you about his day.

Bonus dopamine hit when you let him rest his head on your stomach & scratch his scalp before bed.

boyfriend!bokuto is always so ecstatic after a win; he runs to find you just so he can pull you into his embrace & kiss you.

It's always so cute; the footage of him rushing to you, radiating so much joy & love always goes a little viral.

boyfriend!bokuto always misses you when you can't make it to one of his games, & after a win without you there, all his teammates get to hear how, the moment he gets back to his motel room, he's calling you to celebrate.

He'll stay on the line with you till his words are slurring and you ensure him it's okay to goto bed & you'd see him in a few days.

boyfriend!bokuto likes to shower with you, shampooing your hair, letting you put a hair mask in his hair & massage at his scalp, washing each other's backs, sharing quick kisses, & the peacefulness of the rushing water.

Every time he showers with you, he always helps with your haircare routine & finds your robe for you.

boyfriend!bokuto keeps everything you've ever given him—there's a box on his dresser filled with every love letter, polaroid, trinket, stickers, even one of your perfumes you gave him, nestled comfortably in there.

boyfriend!bokuto bought the prettiest matching promise rings within a few months of dating. He knows the saying "when you know, you know," and mid-date, it hit him, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

He went out & bought them right after dropping you off at your apartment & now proudly wears it around, only taking it off in matches.

boyfriend!bokuto is always making sure to be the best boyfriend he can be for you !

[indiewritesxoxo]

what's mine is yours (and what's yours is mine)

being in love with your best friend's girlfriend is hard. being in love with your best friend's girlfriend and being stuck in his body is harder.

pairing: bodyswapped bf!Suguru x f!reader x bsf!Satoru

content: MDNI, established relationships, au where Geto never defected, reader-insert, no use of yn, very mild use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), multiple povs (and positions), gojo is down so BAD (absolute loser loverboy if I'm being honest), gojo and geto get bodyswapped, oral (m! and f! receiving), handjob, mirror sex, unprotected sex, inappropriate use of jujutsu, threesome

wc: 10.3k (pinky promise it's worth it)

a/n: it should hopefully be clear who is who, but if you are ever in doubt, I mostly used Satoru/Suguru to indicate who it really is and Gojo/Geto in reference to their bodies <33 enjoy!! hehe also this was inspired by @quinnyundertow so we can all thank her for this fr

“I dunno,” Shoko sighed, shrugging for the twentieth time since her two least favorite idiots stumbled through her door. 

“What's that s’pposed to mean?” Gojo groaned, clearing his throat like that'd make it any more comfortable to hear the wrong voice coming out of it or get rid of the shitty taste lingering on his tongue. The other Gojo passed him a soda, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers and squinting at Shoko while she fiddled with the cigarette dangling between her lips. 

“If I had to guess,” She tutted, tilting her head like she didn't get paid nearly enough for this. “The effects will wear off in a day or two.”

“And if they don't?” He heard himself ask, watching the words leave his mouth, trace the sharp line of his own jaw from the soft yellow glow of Shoko's lamp when his head cocked to the side. 

“I'll figure something out,” She apathetically shrugged. 

“So what? We’re just stuck like this?” Gojo whined, gesturing down at the body he somehow found himself in after finishing off a particularly nasty curse with Geto. Not that he was complaining that much though. If he had to swap bodies with anyone, it would probably be him. 

Sure, Suguru was almost as strong as him. But there were other, ahem, benefits. 

Namely, you. 

“For now,” She yawned, digging through her drawers for a lighter. 

“Fuck,” Geto mumbled, rubbing his eyes like they hurt. Gojo knew from experience they probably did - that his friend wasn't equipped to handle the strain from the six eyes, even with the thick pair of shades he borrowed or the dim lighting in Shoko’s office. 

“Aw, cheer up,” Gojo teased, about to slap a hand on his own back just to meet nothing. It was bizarre to be on the receiving end of his technique, something invisible tension flickering in the air before it dissolved, a calloused palm meeting the soft fabric in his uniform. “Who wouldn't wanna be me?”

Geto glared at him, snow-white brows knitted together in a deep scowl.

“Who would?”

“You guys wanna take this outside?” Shoko interrupted with an exaggerated eye-roll, jutting her thumb towards the door. 

“Well, if there's nothing you can do,” Gojo sighed, feigning disappointment as he felt around Geto's pockets for his keys and phone, already planning ten steps ahead for the harebrained scheme that had been forming in the back of his brain from the moment he blinked and saw himself standing across from him. 

The first item on his agenda?

Slip away from Suguru to find the nearest bathroom and figure out what exactly he was working with. 

“Satoru,” Suguru started, the warning a lot less effective coming from his own voice. 

“What's the passcode on your phone?” Gojo ignored him with a yawn. 

“You think I'm giving you that?” Suguru huffed. He couldn't tell through the glasses, but Gojo was fairly certain his friend was glaring again. 

“Ijichi has my house keys,” Gojo shrugged, slinging his hands in his pockets and starting for the exit without looking back. “Unless you want a bounty on your head, you should probably stay in for the night.”

It went without saying that if word got out that the holder of the six eyes wasn't in possession of his own body, wasn't a weapon they could currently use, they might as well be painting a bloody target on his forehead. 

“What are you going to do?” His best friend scoffed, peeking down his shades to cut him another sharp look as he followed him out into the hall. 

“I'm gonna fuck your girlfriend.”

Suguru chuckled, dark and low, raking long fingers through his hair, hand stopping to hover in the air like he wasn't used to having it cut so short. 

“Oh yeah?” 

Suguru probably should've known better than to issue a challenge like that to him. 

“What? Don't think I can?” Gojo pouted, popping open the tab on soda, the sharp edge of the metal slicing a thin cut along his thumb, pinpricks of blood dotting the broken skin. 

It actually stung. 

He hadn't actually been hurt since when? They were teenagers? It was kind of exhilarating. The sensitive new sensations, the lack of control welcome for once. 

“She'll know it's not me,” Suguru simply said. 

“Wanna bet?”

Your boyfriend was late. 

Like, by a lot. 

So much so, you were debating on calling Gojo to find out where he was, considering you couldn't get so much as a text back. 

Hovering over his name in your contacts before hitting the call button with a sigh, flipping the burner off and resting your hip against the kitchen counter. But even when he answered, there was just static-y silence on the other end. 

“Hello? Gojo?” You were pouting already, annoyed that you had to resort to hearing news about your boyfriend secondhand from quite possibly the least responsible person you knew. 

“Uh, yeah?” 

His voice sounded different. You couldn't put your finger on what it was until you realized he almost sounded serious. Not greeting you with a cheesy nickname or some obnoxious over-the-top pick-up line that he still insisted on using despite the fact you'd been dating his best friend for nearly two years now. 

“Is Suguru with you?” You huffed, the sharp edge of the counter starting to dig through your thin dress. Although, it was probably closer to lingerie than an actual sundress. 

“He’s not home yet?” 

You were expecting some annoying arrogant reply - that Suguru was strong enough to take care of himself blah blah blah or how cute it was that you were worrying about them yada yada. Not an actual response that came close to concern. 

“Is everything okay?” You bluntly asked, frowning while you tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder, reaching up to pull down a couple plates from the cabinet. 

“Why wouldn't it be?” Gojo awkwardly coughed, the usual cockiness that marked every word absent. 

“Something you wanna tell me?” You impatiently huffed, foot tapping against the tile. After the shitty day you had at your own job, the last thing you needed was whatever idiotic thing they'd gotten themselves in now. You'd been hoping for a quiet evening in with Suguru, had cooked him a nice dinner, lit a few candles, put on some soft music along with the tiniest thong you owned. 

“No?” 

Yeah, right. 

In the years you'd known Satoru, he'd never answered a question with just a single word. 

The plate pinched between your fingers slipped, hitting the marble with a crash! when it broke into big shards on impact. You winced at the sound, carefully picking it up piece-by-piece and tossing them into the open trash can by the counter. 

“Did something happen? Are you okay?” Gojo's panicked voice called out to you from your phone's precariously cradled position. You couldn't stifle your giggle.

“Oh? Is the great Satoru Gojo worried about me?” You teased. Seriously, what was his deal today? 

His laugh was dangerous, an octave lower than usual when it reverberated through you. It almost sounded like he was there, purring it directly in your ear. 

“You should be more careful,” He warned. Maybe Suguru had finally started wearing off on him. 

“I should, hm?” 

“It almost sounds like you're flirting with me,” He chided with a click of his tongue. 

“You wish,” You laughed. 

A thud by the entryway distracted you, keys jingling as the lock started to turn. Gojo started to say your name, all soft and low, and something pricked at the back of your brain, like an itch you couldn't scratch. 

“Whatever, weirdo,” You sighed. “Just forget about it. Suguru’s here.”

You hung up before he could keep you on the line and longer, sitting your phone on the counter and finding another tiny shattered piece of ceramic to toss out, heavy footsteps echoing on the floor behind you. 

“Sugu-” 

Your greeting was cut off by massive hands on your waist, fingers wrinkling the soft fabric of your dress as his thumbs traced little crescent moons along your back, a head nuzzling against the crook of your collarbone. 

“Did someone miss me?” You teased, trying to crane your neck back to take a peek only for him to squeeze you tighter. His lips grazing against the column of your throat, his breath cool on your skin. 

“Maybe,” He murmured, teeth nipping at your ear while you squealed and twisted away from him. 

A pretty bouquet of white roses was tossed on the counter next to the sink, a few of the petals starting to get crushed from where it was laying. 

“Those for me?” You suppressed your smile, ignoring the way one of his hands was currently sliding underneath the hem of your dress while you picked up the flowers, careful not to get picked by the thorns poking out underneath the thin ribbon they were tied together with. 

“Mhm,” His honeyed hum was soothing, music to your ears while he started to pepper your neck with gentle kisses, brushing the thin strap of your dress off your shoulder. 

“What's the occasion?” You giggled, taking a tiny whiff of them. 

“Can't I just get my pretty girl some flowers?” He practically whined behind you, his firm chest pressed against your back. You were used to him being glued to you after he got home, but usually it was just a hand on your back, a hip brushing against yours, just small expressions of his casual affection. The weight of his presence threatened to swallow you already, his mouth tracing your collarbone like he really might consume you before the night had even started. 

“As long as they're not apology flowers for something stupid you and Gojo did,” You hummed, relaxing back into him. 

He didn't say anything to that. 

“Sugu,” You started disapprovingly, about to scold him before he turned you around, quick to cop a feel while he did, grabbing a handful of your ass and squeezing hard when he picked you up and sat you down on the counter so you could properly face him. 

“I didn't do anything,” He asserted, dark eyes settling on you and trailing south, savoring each second like he was drinking the image of you in. A sharp canine biting down on his lower lip when his gaze settled on the cleavage spilling out. 

Maybe it was silly. 

But it felt like the first time he'd seen them all over again. How lovestruck he looked the longer his stare lingered, the sharp little exhales he barely seemed to manage, something hanging thick in the narrow space between you. 

“If you say so,” You yielded, delicately pinching a white petal between your fingers appreciatively, admiring his selection. His eyes crinkled when he smiled, faint lines etched into the skin when he pressed another featherlight kiss on your forehead. “Grab the vase for these?”

The curve of his mouth turned down, faltering for a second when he looked down at you. 

“Could you, um, remind me where it is?” He apologetically requested, going to scratch the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his dark hair. 

You squinted at him. 

Was he being serious?

“Under the sink?” Unless you were somehow misremembering, he was the one who stuck it there last. 

“Oh, yeah,” He sighed. Reluctantly pulling away to bend down and open the cabinet, moving sponges and the dishwasher detergent over until he found the vase tucked in the back corner. 

You watched him fill it up, his fingers clumsily clasped around the bottled neck of it, shutting off the water and taking the flowers from your hand to plop them inside. 

“You okay?” The hard edge of the counter bit into your palm as you scooted closer to the edge, eyes narrowed as they focused on him. He was quick to return to you, sturdy thighs nudging your own further apart, the tent in his pants only obvious when it suddenly pressed against you. 

“Long day,” Your boyfriend mumbled, looking at your lips like they were the only thing he'd been thinking about. 

“I'm sorry,” You murmured back, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

His hand caught your chin though, pulling you in closer, your cheeks almost squished under his firm hold. His thumb digging in on one side while his index finger pressed into the hard line of your jaw, his mouth colliding against yours. Your lips parted automatically for him, his tongue immediately slipping between them, fervently exploring your mouth like you were tonight's meal, brushing against the ridges of your teeth and sliding over your own. It was sloppy, hungry, his lower lip soft and swollen while you sucked on it. Running your fingers through his silky hair, pulling the hair tie out of the messy half-bun he'd thrown it into earlier, brushing back the bangs that framed the sharp planes of his face. 

He didn't pull away until you were almost out of air, tilting your chin up while you both sucked in ragged breaths. 

“Baby,” You softly said, stroking his hair like all the muscles in your thighs weren't pulled tight, like there wasn't a growing damp spot soaking through the lace separating you from him. His eyes were closed, melting into your touch, his head relaxing into the palm of your hand. “Dinner's getting cold.”

“I want something else to eat,” His voice was raspy, a low hum that came from the back of his throat. Going back to kissing you the second the last word left his mouth, his mouth marking what felt like every inch of your neck, the ghost of his lips going from butterfly kisses to hot and heavy sucks that would surely leave bruises by tomorrow, lewd pops! joining the sound of your broken breathing. 

The friction of his erection rubbing slowly against your clit through the barely-there fabric of your thong was tantalizing. One hand hiking higher and higher up your thigh until one sturdy finger slipped under the band of your underwear, toying with it while you tugged on his hair. You could barely think straight, brain addled between his hands and his mouth and even just his cologne, warm and woody and as intoxicating as the rest of him. 

“Oh?” You could hardly choke the syllable out, shakily exhaling when his teeth scraped against the fragile skin of your throat. Instinctively chasing the more, more, more your brain was screaming for, you rolled your hips up trying to soothe the already aching bundle of nerves starving for attention, a desperate moan escaping his throat at how snugly your body was pressed against his. 

“Angel, please.”

You paused, but he was too lost in the moment to notice. Nudging the straps of your dress down further until he freed both your breasts, assuming your flinch was just from the cold air on your nipples, bending down so he could pop one in his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around it, teeth graze against the sensitive nub. 

It wasn't Suguru. 

Only one person you knew would call you something like that. Or beg before you'd even so much as touched his dick. 

Those stupid fucking assholes. 

Suguru - or Satoru, you technically supposed - bit down again, sucking a harsh spot on your tit, about to pull your panties down with his other hand just to accidentally tug too hard, the dainty fabric tearing with a loud rip! 

“Oops,” He paused to grin up at you, his smile too wide, eyes too big when they landed on yours. Only further convincing you of the growing suspicion that this was not in fact your boyfriend. 

Weird curse stuff just sorta came with the territory - you knew that when you started dating him. Especially considering some of the, uh, bizarre aftereffects that sometimes came with his technique. You experienced that firsthand when he came home one night a few months ago after swallowing some filthy fucking lust curse. 

But this? 

“Oops?” You echoed, chewing on your bottom lip while he licked a clean stripe back up your neck, kissing your jaw again while he removed the now-useless scrap of fabric between your thighs, not-so-discreetly pocketing it. 

“M’ sorry,” He murmured, hands drifting back down to your ass when he picked you up, not pausing his onslaught of kisses carrying you through the kitchen into the hall until he reached the bedroom, kicking the door open a little too hard, the knob hitting the wall behind it with a loud thud. 

You barely processed your back hitting the mattress, the hem of your dress bunching up past your hips as the familiar weight of his frame climbed on top of you. His mouth made its way south, eager to claim every inch for himself, spreading your thighs with those huge palms and practically panting at how exposed you were. 

If you were right, and this was Satoru, you guessed that meant you must've been talking to your real boyfriend on the phone earlier. You fucking knew something was off. And he didn't say a word. 

You were going to kill both of them. 

They shared almost everything. Were you really that surprised you hadn't turned out to be the exception?

“God, you're so gorgeous,” He wasn't really even talking to you, muttering to himself while he admired you splayed out in his best friend's bed, on his best friend's sheets. 

You'd never taken any of his teasing seriously. It was just in his nature. A player, a flirt. Sure, you’d never actually seen him with any girls. But you just always assumed they existed. 

Maybe it was just because he was in Suguru's body, but he seemed so sincere, your name falling in a dreamy little sigh from his lips. 

Suguru had to know what Satoru would do once he came home. So why let him? Unless you were the pawn or prize in whatever game they were playing. 

If that was the case, you weren't going to settle for anything less than being the winner. 

You reached down, running your fingers through his hair again, playing with the ends between your fingers and humming quietly. 

“Suguru,” You purred, reminding your friend exactly who he was supposed to be imitating as he hesitated between your thighs. 

“Hm?” He didn't, or couldn't, tear his gaze away, his rough thumb absentmindedly tracing figure-eights along your hip, probably not even aware of how much he was fidgeting. 

“I thought you were hungry?” You innocently pouted, batting your lashes at him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Whatever faint restraint he'd been exercising snapped. 

The sharp point of his nose bumping into your clit as he pressed his tongue hard and flat across your entrance, dark glossy eyes fluttering shut while he pushed down your thighs, pressing them into the plush mattress. 

Even if he looked like Suguru, it didn't feel like Suguru. 

He was messy, overeager, his tongue lapping up every ounce, every drop you offered, devoted swirls exploring you. Open-mouthed kisses where his taste buds scraping against the inside of your walls, groaning with every squirm and gasp he elicited. It didn't take him long to figure out where your weak spots were, working them over and over again, ignoring how tightly your thighs were clenched around his head, your fingers pulling at his hair. 

“S-shit,” You whined, clawing at the sheets when his tongue slipped out, feeling yourself throb at the absence until his mouth wrapped around your clit. It almost felt like he tore the next moan out of you, the neglected bud sore, blind need pooling in your gut while his tongue roughly circled it. 

His touch wasn't as practiced, wasn't as steady, but what he lacked in rhythm, he sure as fuck made up for in earnestness. 

Suguru Satoru was clawing at your hips, pulling you into the warmth of his mouth while your back arched off the bed, needy whimpers rolling off your tongue while he dove back in to taste you again. It could've been intentional, how he was constantly readjusting like he was still getting used to Suguru's body, but his nose kept ghosting against your clit, the knot in your stomach getting tighter every time he did, desperation clawing its way to the surface as the heat rose to your face when you remembered who was eating you out like he was fucking starving. 

“S-” You stopped yourself, not entirely convinced whose name was about to leave your mouth. 

“Mm?” 

You covered your mouth with your hand, muffling your moan when his nose edged against you again, all the nerves in your body begging for him to keep going. 

But he caught a glimpse of you, his thin brows scrunching together while he narrowed his eyes at you. Pushing off your thighs until he was hovering back over you, pulling your hand away from your lips. 

“Wanna hear you, pretty girl,” He complained, digging his knee up until it was snugly shoved against your entrance, leaving a damp spot on the baggy fabric of his pants, gradually applying more pressure as if the friction alone wasn't enough to drive you insane. 

“Sugu,” You mewled, pushing your bottom lip out just for him to snag it between his canines, capturing your mouth with another searing kiss. You wondered if Satoru's pride could handle hearing his best friend's name from your lips when he was the one on top of you. 

“Yeah?” He mumbled into your mouth, groaning when you bucked your hips up to meet the slow grind of your boyfriend's cock against your clit. You let your head rest against the soft pillow underneath you, a quiet whimper falling out when he smothered your face with more kisses. 

“Remember what we were talking about a few nights ago?” You asked, knowing he'd be forced to lie either way considering the conversation in question never happened, just something you made up. 

“What about it?” He tested the waters, doing a poor job at mimicking the sultry silk of your boyfriend's typically reserved voice. He pulled away until his nose was brushing against yours, your fingers grazing over his smooth cheek, his marble complexion. 

“I’ve just been thinking,” You drawled, running your thumb over his defined cheekbone, a nervous glint in his eyes he couldn't hide at how you trailed off. 

“And?” He pressed, something damp leaking through his pants onto your thigh. 

“Mm, maybe we should invite Gojo over,” You suggested, leaving the implication hanging in the air, feel the energy shift when it finally struck him. 

“Oh.” 

His cock twitched against you, begging to be set free while his mouth hung open. 

“You change your mind?” You teased, craning your neck up to plant butterfly kisses along his throat, tracing the tendons there the same way you'd done hundreds of times before. 

“N-no,” He stammered, a throaty grunt falling out when your hand trailed down his chest, running two fingers along the band of his pants before slipping them underneath his boxers, collecting the pre-cum that had leaked out and slathering up-and-down his thick shaft. The vein running along its side was bulging, throbbing more with every slow stroke of your fingers wrapped around his girth. “I-I can call him.”

He didn't really look like he wanted to though, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, jaw slack like your hand alone was heaven. 

“Uh-huh?” 

Suguru wasn't normally this sensitive, moaning at every little touch, putty in your palm. 

“Whatever you want,” He ran his tongue along his bottom lip like he was savoring the traces of you left there. It was probably wrong of you, but you sucked hard on his neck, hoping to leave a patchwork of blue and purple hickies by the time you finished, marks Suguru normally would have scolded you for, but Satoru seemed to worship, freely groaning every time your teeth brushed against him. He hissed when your grip tightened, rutting up into your hand. “Fuck, angel.”

Too distracted, too worked up to think of anything except the friction of your palm against his shaft, he didn't notice when your other hand slipped into his left pocket, plucking Suguru's phone out. Unlocking it just to find a message from ‘Gojo’ already there, along with all the unread ones you'd sent earlier. Your boyfriend so kindly informed him to go ahead and try, and what he was implying only irritated you more. 

Your reply was short. 

Come over. 

How long would it take him to show?

Gojo could teleport, and while you had no idea if that meant Suguru would also technically be able to, the idea of your boyfriend popping in to find you jerking him but also not-him off had your blood rushing south. Your frustration fighting the lust clouding your judgment, all the cells in your body currently occupied by the thought that one of them better make you cum soon.

“There,” You mumbled, and he peeked at you through half-lidded eyes, lost in his own sea of desire.  

“What?” He choked out, his voice thick as you continued pumping in your steady rhythm, his breath hitching. 

You dangled the phone in front of him briefly, having to stretch to deposit it on the nightstand by your boyfriend's thin pair of reading glasses he'd left there this morning. Straining to reach over and flick the lamp on, the fading evening sunlight throwing long shadows across your bedroom. His expression twisted for a second, and you couldn't tell what he must've been thinking, but it melted into almost ecstasy when your fingers grazed against his sensitive tip. 

“Toru should be here soon,” You murmured, slowly enunciating the nickname you rarely ever used for him, feeling him twitch at the way it rolled off your tongue. 

“Toru?” You were pretty sure he was trying to sound jealous, but he couldn't hide the hint of pride, his ego inflating just from you mentioning him.

“Mhm,” You purred, probably having more fun than you should at playing with him the same way he always toyed with you. “You know, I think he might have a little crush on me.”

“W-what?” Hearing your boyfriend stutter was delicious, to see his composure crack so easily. 

“You don't think so?” You teased, your hand jerking up and earning a low hiss. 

“I don't know,” He breathlessly murmured, his cheeks flushed pink. 

“Take your clothes off,” You tutted, arching your brows up and pausing there. 

His moan was nothing short of filthy, his cock jerking up when your hand didn't move. 

“You’re not gonna cum just from a little hand job, right honey?” You taunted, finger drifting across the slick slit along the top, another gutteral noise leaving him like he was letting you know he very well might finish before the real Suguru could show. 

“Course not,” He scoffed, but it came out more like a whine. 

“Then. Take. Your. Clothes. Off.” You repeated, punctuating each word with a slow drag of your fingers along the throbbing vein, watching his cheeks hollow while he sucked on his molars. 

“Fine,” He grimaced, pulling away to remove his shirt first, tugging it over his head and quickly working to pull his pants and boxers down in a single fluid movement. His cock was so red it must've hurt, damp and slick as it sprung up to smack into the hard muscle of his abdomen, your eyes lingering when they landed on his dark happy trail. 

When he wasn't talking, his mouth set in the same hard line and eyes fogged with hunger, it would be easy to convince yourself he was Suguru. 

The knock down the hall reminded you who was really the one standing naked in front of you.

“Should I-”

“The door's unlocked,” You shrugged before you could finish, propping yourself up on your elbows while you tilted your head to the side. “Besides, can't he just teleport inside?”

You waited for an excuse, for him to give their little game away, but he didn't. 

“Yeah, you're right,” He murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling you into his lap, taking the hem of your dress between his fingers and lifting it up over your head, discarding it with the rest of his clothes scattered on the floor. 

The door creaked open at the same moment he unclasped your bra, his tip twitching against the hood of your clit at the slow sound of footsteps approaching.

It was funny, they were lighter than Suguru's, a little softer, but they had the same rhythm, one you automatically recognized as his. 

“You nervous, baby?” You whispered, caressing his cheek. 

“No,” Satoru huffed, brows furrowed together tightly.

Liar. 

You were about to turn to face the open doorway, but his mouth landed on yours before you could, kissing you like it might be the last time he’d be able to. Which you guessed could be true, that even if Suguru told him he could try to fuck you, he might actually kill Satoru for it if he discovered just how close he'd already come. 

His lips tearing at yours, a hand on your lower back holding you firmly against his chest while his tongue traced your teeth, slid against your own. 

The actual Suguru cleared his throat.

But Satoru refused to back off, his thumb brushing over the ridges of your spine, canines tugging at your kiss-bruised lips. 

“Started without me, huh?” Gojo's taunting voice called out, the wooden frame of the door creaking like he was resting his weight on it. 

You managed to twist your head, lips pressing messy kisses along your neck while you assessed your new company. 

Intense blue eyes narrowed, white brows scrunched together and his jaw set tight while his gaze slowly scanned over your bare body, probably already littered with hickies and bruises. He reminded you of a big cat, how leisurely he measured you, his stare flitting from you to him and back to you. Hands slung in his pockets, amusement and maybe something darker, more possessive glimmering in his eyes when they locked with yours. The lights flickered for just a second, a small crackle hanging in the open space, the air thick and charged. 

“Sorry,” Satoru apathetically shrugged, unbothered while his other hand groped at your breast. 

Your boyfriend wasn't looking at him(self) though, focused entirely on you. 

“Suguru,” You let out a soft moan, not breaking his stare while Satoru hummed happily, rolling a nipple between his fingers, content to keep the charade up. 

The one you were actually talking to smirked. A little crooked smile smugly curling up to let you know he knew you knew. 

“Mm, what, sweetheart?” Satoru whispered into your skin. 

“You're being a little rude ignoring our guest,” You scolded, grinding against him just enough for him to get his teeth. 

“M’sorry,” He apologized again, warm eyes fluttering open when you climbed off of him, his fingertips grazing against your wrist in an attempt to stop you before you started walking over to where Suguru was leaning against the frame, and his usually passive expressions were even harder to read when they were hidden under a new face. 

You hadn't been nervous before. 

But walking up to Gojo while you were naked, even if you knew it was actually your Suguru was unnerving, anxiety pricking at you when you pressed a finger against his chest, just for nothing to stop you. Heart lurching in your chest, lungs no longer working when you realized infinity was on. But then he let out a small, almost inaudible sigh, and the tip of your finger was suddenly wrinkling the tight white shirt covering his broad frame. 

The dull thrum of blood rushing to your head filled your ears at the way his unnatural eyes seemed to be scrutinizing every inch of your skin, how much they seemed to burn for you the longer he looked. 

“Well?” You cocked your head to the side, hoping to come across as far more confident than you really were when you knew he'd be able to see straight through you. 

“You wanted me here,” Suguru simply said, choosing his words carefully. The game had changed, morphed into something new, trying to make the other break first, come clean, an implicit sort of understanding exchanged in his heavy state. 

“I thought you'd be a little more excited,” You tried to sigh like you were disappointed, starting to turn around just for a hand to snag your waist, his tongue clicking when he pulled you back. 

“Did I say I wasn't?” He muttered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his arm snaking around your back to hold you closer until your tits were practically squished against his chest. 

Your attempt to slip away was futile, his grip only getting tighter when you peered up at him, your stomach twisting when all you found was Gojo's face looking down at you, the messy white hair and the bright blue eyes you’d never seen so close, pretty pink lips pursed together. 

It's not like you'd never realized he was attractive. But it'd always been more like a fact, something you'd never really paid attention to. You realized with abject horror that holy shit, you were attracted to him when your breath hitched in your throat, your thighs pressing together at his sudden proximity. 

“You’re a dick,” You mumbled, squirming under his hold. You weren't positive which one you were talking to - honestly, probably both. 

“Oh yeah?” Suguru chuckled, the sound of Gojo's lighthearted laughter doing nothing to soothe your nerves. 

“Yeah,” You managed a tiny nod, sucking in short inhales, feeling like you were being crushed under his piercing gaze. 

Someone else's hand found your hip, familiar callouses claiming you as a firm chest pressed against your back, Satoru's other one tangling itself in your hair and tugging, your head forced to tilt back to look up at the dark-haired man you were used to waking up with. 

Caught between the two of them, not sure if you were ensnared in their trap or if was the other way around when you craned your neck up to smash a kiss against your not-boyfriend’s mouth, forcing the real one to watch as your tongue slipped between his lips, explored every nook and cranny you’d already committed to memory. 

“Honey,” You whispered when you broke away, studying his jaw, all his familiar features, somehow still stuck reminding yourself that it wasn't Suguru when he looked at you like that. The unspoken affection, the searing adoration in the amber glow when it caught the light from the lamp. 

“What’s my girl want?” Satoru teased, a deep hum in your ear. 

“I want you,” You bit your lip when he gave your hair another tug, swallowing hard. 

“You heard her,” Satoru mockingly addressed Suguru, oblivious to the fact he was really the one left out, unaware that the charade had been up before he’d gotten his first real taste of you. 

“You can watch,” You let your gaze linger on Suguru, while Satoru pulled you free from his grasp and tossed you onto the bed. 

All you heard was one short exhale before Suguru relegated himself to the oversized armchair in the corner of the room. It was supposed to be a small reading nook, tucked between the tall bookcase he built for you over the summer and the tall mirror leaning against the wall. Certainly not meant for this. 

But his expression didn't change. 

Lips pressed together, the muscles in his jaw pulled tight while he watched the bounce of your breasts when you hit the mattress, watched his own hands pry your thighs apart to reveal how wet you were, a few faint red splotches staining your skin to hint at what had happened before he arrived. He didn't miss the way you were watching him either. A small part of you wondered just how much he could see with Gojo's technique, considering he hadn't shown up with any of the blindfolds or bandages or sunglasses the latter usually always had with him. 

But Satoru snapped you back to reality, grabbing both wrists in one huge hand and pinning them above your head, nudging your legs just enough to line himself up properly, his movements still jerky, still adjusting to his new proportions. 

You had one singular moment of clarity. A split second where you realized you were actually about to let Gojo fuck you. Okay, yes, he was in Suguru's body, it was still technically him. 

And the next moment he was sinking into you, and fuck, you nearly forgot everything at how fast he filled you. Whimpers your brain could barely recognize as your own falling out freely when he started fucking you like you really were his girl. 

Dark bangs falling in his face, the first beads of sweat sitting his forehead, hovering over you like he was trying to sear what you looked like underneath him in his brain. 

His thumb digging into the divot of your wrist, the mattress creaking when he found a pace bordering on brutal. Each thrust hard and fast, his hips smacking against your skin while you hooked one leg around his waist, your chest heaving with every shuddered breath. 

“Mine,” He murmured, low enough you suspected he hadn't intended for Suguru to hear, but in the blurred edges of your vision, you caught the way your boyfriend's fist tightened, how white his knuckles were. 

You figured it was a fifty-fifty chance on whether Satoru was saying it purely to piss him off or if he was trying to stay in-character. 

“Mm, all yours,” You whined back, straining under his grip, absolutely hoping to get a reaction out of Suguru. 

You'd never expected Satoru to be so, well, desperate. 

It almost felt like he was trying to brand you, ingrain himself so deeply you'd never be able to root him out. 

“I wanna touch you,” You jutted out your bottom lip, flexing the tendons in your wrist where his hold was starting to ache. His hips stuttered at your request, pausing to recollect himself, his hair hanging down in a thick curtain. Releasing your hands with a heavy breath, cock twitching when you reached up to brush his bangs back. 

It had to be muscle memory. 

But you could've sworn you saw his lips mouthing an ‘I love you’ before they met yours. 

Satoru never really gave your thoughts the time to linger on anything though, hips pounding into you, trying to press the shape of you into the squeaking mattress, the bed’s wooden headboard smacking into the wall in time with every forceful thrust. 

Mumbling mindless compliments into your skin between every kiss, promises of how pretty you looked like this, how much he was yours. 

As much as you loved hearing those words come from Geto's mouth, the shriveled up leftovers of your logic reminded you that just because Satoru never shut up, it didn't mean he actually meant any of it. 

It was just his dick talking. 

Probably. 

He had one hand behind your neck, cradling your head up so it was easier for him to kiss you, distracting you from where his other one was heading until it was already there, his fingers forming a sharp ‘V’ as they skimmed over your clit, teasingly kimming over it just to return to massage rough patterns over it, not very discreetly experimenting with what made you gasp, thighs squeezing around him. Your own fingers tangled in his hair pulling free to scramble for his broad shoulder blades, the nails scratching down his back earning you a heedy moan, his hips suddenly bucking up, and you weren't sure what pushed you over, the tip grinding hard against the spongy little spot at the back or how he rolled the already overworked bundle of nerves between his index and thumb, but you were crying out, tiny stars dotting your vision eyes clenched shut, legs quivering when you came.

“Fuck, you're gonna make me-” His quiet curse was cut short with a raspy moan, stalling out inside you, frozen except for the breaths he managed to suck in and force out, finishing earlier than he'd intended.

The thick warmth of his cum already started to leak down the inside of your thighs, coating his still-throbbing shaft when he reluctantly pulled out.

You kissed him anyway. 

The same way you had when you still thought he was Suguru, just a tender one pressed to the edges of his lips before he untangled himself from you, flipping over next to you to stare at the ceiling fan slowly spinning overhead. 

Suguru laughed. 

“It's my turn, isn't it?” 

The lilt of his voice, the way his mouth quirked up in half a smile stole the breath from your throat. 

You could feel your chin turn up, but you couldn't control it, couldn't move when it felt like all you did was blink and he was standing up, article after article of clothing being peeled off, tossing them over to the half-empty laundry basket in the closet. Satoru was still dazed, blinking lazily next to you, head reclined back on the pillow, Adam's apple bobbing through his ragged breathing. 

“Well?” Suguru mimicked your tone from earlier, padding over to your side of the bed left only in a plain white pair of boxers. Propping yourself up on your elbows, your eyes automatically trailing down his sculpted chest, the defined muscles of his abs down to the trail of white peeking out above the band of his underwear. In a fluid movement, he was shedding those off too, his cock springing up the second it was free. 

And shit, Gojo really had won the fucking generic lottery when he was born, because how the fuck was that fair? Even his dick was pretty. Not quite as thick as Suguru's, but longer, a slight curve to it, the tip a tantalizing pink. 

You had to swallow the spit pooling in your mouth. 

“Forget how to use your words?” He tsk-ed, one knee sinking into the mattress next to you, a soft hand slipping down to the small of your back and pulling into the warmth of his chest. Picking you up, holding you how he always had, cradling you and carrying you in front of the mirror. But he smelled like Satoru, the candied scent of his cologne, the sweetness flooding your nostrils. 

“No,” You choked out, loathing how small it sounded. Staring at the sharp outline of his collarbones so you didn't have to look at his face, brain refusing to reconcile who you were looking at with who it actually was.

Suguru wasn't having it. 

It was hard to tell what happened first when you still felt so dizzy, how fast he sat down, his hand twisting you around so you were on his lap, his chest on your back, his erection pressed against your spine. Forced to meet your own glossy eyes in the mirror, the necklace of hickeys left around your throat, your trembling body perched prettily on Gojo's thighs. His fingers pulling your thighs apart, repositioning you until you were directly above the dripping tip, your mouth dry at the thought of taking all of him like this. 

You didn't think it'd fit. 

For all your teasing and taunting, he was about to give you back everything you gave him tenfold. 

“Su-” You nearly slipped up, blinking too fast. 

But he shoved two fingers in your mouth, muffling your voice before Satoru overheard and spoiled the fun. 

Automatically, you parted your lips for him, swirling your tongue around his knuckles, sucking softly, lashes fluttering closed while he ghosted over your entrance, his free hand tugging your hips down, pushing himself in inch by excruciating inch. 

“C’mere,” He murmured in your ear, forcing past barely-there ring of resistance, all your muscles squeezing hard around him like he was the interloper here. 

“Oh, oh,” You panted, probably incoherent talking with his fingers pressed against your tongue like that. Your thighs quivering with the strain of being spread so open, your sore walls stretching around the delicious length of his shaft, the veins throbbing inside you while he continued to hold you down, slowly filling you up.

“Sweetheart,” He purred, using the same saccharine voice Gojo always did, and you almost jolted, squirming, but he just chuckled dryly, clicking his tongue as he paused, the sound not quite covering your own whimper. Your chin tilted up, head reclining back to rest against his chest, pushing puffs of air out of your nose, clawing for some tiny sliver of control. 

“Fuck,” The sound of Suguru's voice from across the room, Satoru finally noticing what you and your boyfriend were doing with his body. 

Peeking through heavy lashes to find his dark gaze in the mirror, his jaw slack at the sight of you looking so fucked-out on top of him, the needy noises pouring out despite the fingers still stuck in your mouth. 

“Eyes on me,” Your boyfriend muttered, his quiet voice firm when you pulled your attention back to the man behind you in the mirror. 

Cold blue eyes locked onto yours, his pale cheeks making the flush show easier, his lips a pretty shade of pink while they left phantom kisses across the column of your throat. 

“Please,” You whispered against his fingers, his twitch feeling more like torture the longer he refused to move. 

He pulled his fingers out, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip with a pleased sigh, slowly skimming his hand down your front so he could hold your other hip, his touch surprisingly delicate, controlled. 

“You really want me to fuck you while your boyfriend watches?” Suguru mocked, and you guessed it wasn't even incorrect in his assessment even if he was just playing his role. And really, he made a far better Gojo than the cheap imitation Satoru had been giving you of Geto. 

You shakily nodded, your own hands gripping onto his, fingers laced between his much longer ones, the pad of your thumb rubbing tiny circles over his knuckles, a silent reminder that you loved him despite whatever lengths you were both willing to go to win this stupid game. 

“Please,” You repeated. 

He bottomed out before you could breathe, his hips jerking up at the same time as he yanked you down, his tip not grazing, but smashed against your womb, deep enough that you were instinctively falling forward, trying to wiggle away, but he pulled you back before you could hit the mirror. 

Whatever sound came out was strangled, your brain and your guts quite literally being scrambled by his rough thrusts, his hands easing you up just to spear you back down, feeling almost like you were being split open on his intimidating length.

“I-I,” You were stammering, gasping for air when every stroke seemed to slam the breath right out of you. 

“What, baby?” He teased, his left hand drifting up to the bare strip of your midriff below your belly button, pressing down on it as if he could feel himself there. 

“S’ too much,” You practically slurred, drunk on him and the stretch and the burn. He leaned in closer until his canines were teasing at your earlobe, shivering at how much of his body was already connected with yours. 

“My love,” He coo-ed, for your ears only, lost under the filthy smack of his hips against your skin, the sloppy noises of him bucking up into you. “You can take it.”

It was embarrassing how easily he was pushing you back towards the edge, already on the precipice of another orgasm. Knowing your body like the back of his hand, angling himself to hit the same spongy spot as before, tears brimming along your lashes at how wrong right it felt. 

How wrecked he looked in the mirror didn't help. 

The stark white hair glued to his forehead with sweat, the muscles straining in his face, his bicep bulging, his fingers splayed out further to press down harder on your stomach, your body locking up when he drove himself deeper. 

“S-Satoru,” You whined, starting to wonder if his dick was somehow lodged in your throat with how hard it was to manage less than a handful of syllables out. 

“Mm?”

“Yeah?”

Idiots. 

Suguru paused mid-thrust, sighing, stark-white eyebrows furrowed in frustration when he realized Satoru actually responded at the same time as him. 

You both turned, peering over Gojo's shoulder at the real him. 

You didn't think you'd ever seen Geto make that face, the panic that tinged his features, his mouth hanging open like even Satoru couldn't believe he'd given himself away. 

“I-uh, listen,” He started to speak again, until his dark eyes narrowed, belatedly realizing that all your faces reflected was mild annoyance instead of confusion. 

“I think I still won,” You peered up at your boyfriend with a little huff, pouting. 

“Did you now?” He wryly murmured back, and you knew you lost when all it took was a harsh roll of his hips for you to moan his name this time. 

“Shit, Suguru,” You whined, gripping his right hand tight to anchor yourself when you were already fully at his whim. You were throbbing around him, the heat building from within, the swollen bundle of nerves starting to ache from his neglect. 

“Giving up already?” He taunted. 

You stayed silent, lips pressed together tight to hold in what might've been a rebuttal or begging. 

“Oh?” 

He hoisted you up, your whine at how empty you felt without him ringing through the room until he positioned you on the bed, manhandling you into place until you were on your hands and knees in front of his best friend. Satoru was blinking hard,  sitting up and staring at you like he couldn't believe you were real. 

It was something you'd seen before. 

The silky black hair, the bangs stuck to his skin, the veins popping out on his fist when it was wrapped around his cock, a weird sort of comfort reassuring you at the soft sound of your name falling out of his mouth. 

“When did you figure-”

“The kitchen,” You started to shrug, a barely-there smile curling up until Suguru suddenly slid inside, not stopping until he managed to snugly force himself in to the hilt, your lips falling open as you made a strangled yelp. 

The force of it pushing you forward, your hand grabbing one of Geto's sturdy thighs, scrambling for something to hold onto, Gojo's nails clawing at your hips, probably leaving little crescent moons on your skin. You doubted Suguru even realized it, his own usually clipped too-short to ever leave marks. 

Geto's cock was barely inches away, the thick vein running along the side pulsing, Satoru apparently throbbing at the sight of him fucking you like you were on some invisible leash. 

He might as well have been drooling. 

“I think he needs a little help, baby,” Suguru was making fun of him, but you didn't think Satoru had it in him to care about anything other than the need that was surely coiling just as tightly inside him as it was in you. 

“Yeah?” You asked him, trailing your hand higher until it was cupping his balls, just close enough for your fingers to brush against where his own were wrapped so tightly around his dick. “You want my help, Toru?”

His hand jerked up hard when you leaned in to slowly wrap your mouth around his tip, the point of your tongue slowly swirling over it. 

You were content to keep teasing him, but your boyfriend had something else in mind, his next thrust unexpectedly forcing you to take Satoru in, the vein thrumming along your tongue as he hit the back of your throat. You nearly gagged, barely stopping yourself from biting down when you couldn't even breathe. 

“Doin’ so good,” Suguru murmured softly, appreciatively, trailing delicate fingers across your spine to stop right at the nape of your neck, a smooth palm resting against it. You shivered, your shoulders rolling back just for him to push your head down on the last couple inches you hadn't managed to fit in your mouth before. 

“Oh fuck.”

You were inclined to agree with Satoru. 

Actually gagging now, your cheeks hollowed out in your weak attempts to bob your head up-and-down, but he was acting like it was the best head he'd ever received, his groans sticking out over the sound of skin-on-skin and the never-ending whines of the mattress (and you.)

“You okay?” Suguru muttered in your ear, his chest resting on top of your back, planting soft kisses over the sore bruises lining your collarbone. Checking in to make sure it wasn't too much like he didn't already know you just wanted more. Filled-up and fucked-out and somehow still starving for whatever affection either one would offer. 

“Mhm,” You moaned, the sound from your throat practically making the cock in your mouth jump at how needy it sounded. 

Suguru was the kind of man who'd put your needs first. 

Just in his, uh, own way. 

Something almost intangible stretching you further, almost like Suguru had somehow managed to slip a condom on without even slipping out of you. Your mind was too hazy to process what was happening while it expanded in the tiniest of increments, your body reflexively jolting forward with nowhere to go. Whimpering meekly, your fingers digging into Geto's muscled thighs like it'd help any. 

“Oh, that's mean, Suguru,” Satoru chuckled hoarsely, apparently realizing what was happening before you had. 

It wasn't until you noticed that there weren't any nails sinking into your skin, no honeyed kisses tracing your neck that you figured out Suguru was using infinity again. 

“I'm mean?” Suguru wryly scoffed, more amused than annoyed considering he was still buried deep enough inside you he could probably feel your guts. “What do you think, sweetheart?”

He leaned in impossibly close, shuddering at the immense weight of the distance bearing down on you. 

Even if they weren't both stuffing you full, you didn't know if you'd be able to formulate a reply. Stuck dumbly shaking your head no to take Suguru's side, shamelessly grinding your ass back against him, reduced to chasing your most basic instinct. 

This time Satoru laughed, laced with a tight sort of disbelief. But you went back down on him, running your tongue along the vein and feeling the automatic rut of his hips, the laughter turning into a breathy moan of your name. Reaching out to caress your face while he fucked it, clearly close to cumming again.

Probably bruising the walls of your throat with the way he was rutting up into it, the girth forced up against the roof of your mouth. The sweet nothings rolling so easily off his tongue clued you in before the vein pulsing along the swirls of your tongue did, thick ropes of cum hitting the back of your throat, the tension in his muscles all relaxing at the same time while you struggled to swallow all of it. 

“God, I fucking adore you,” Satoru groaned, not making a move to pull out this time even after the last drops leaked out. 

“Watch your mouth, Satoru,” Suguru warned. 

“Well, technically, it's yours,” Satoru reminded him. 

Infinity flickered off. It was hard to tell if it was on purpose or if maybe it was too much to maintain.

But Satoru slipped out of your mouth, watching you through half-lidded eyes, the pupils so wide they almost looked entirely black. Combing his fingers through his long hair, untangling a tiny knot you probably put in it tugging it earlier. 

“Suguru,” You mewled, glancing over your shoulder at the white-haired sorcerer behind you, immediately regretting it at how tightly your stomach knotted at the reminder of whose body was fucking you. 

You hated to admit it, but you were nearing your limit and you wouldn't put it past him to work you well over it if you didn't concede defeat soon. 

“Yeah?” He softened, his harsh pumps easing, his thumb hooked over your hip tracing tiny patterns. 

“You win,” You muttered under your breath, biting down on your lip. 

“I know,” His voice was low, rolling straight through you, only stoking the desperation clawing its way up from your core. 

Losing was still fun when it was with him. 

His hand slipping around, not having to fumble to immediately find your clit, pinching at the sore bud just to make you gasp. 

“Say please,” He teased, your company clearly in mind considering how much he was making you beg for it. 

Satoru wasn't wrong. Suguru could be mean. You just liked it. 

“Please,” Your whisper was more of a rattle, your vocal cords straining to get the noise out. But it was enough. The pressure of his fingers working circles over your clit, massaging the same determined motions against it, damp streaks trailing down your cheeks at the tears brimming over your lashes. 

The crescendo finally cresting, a white-hot wave of pleasure hitting you when pressed down just right. Blinding you to anything else other than the way he burned inside you, the ache in your heart at his proximity. You were only dimly aware of him cumming a handful of seconds later, just a faint inkling of surprise that he hadn't pulled out considering he was in Gojo's body, your already slick thighs pressing together when he pulled out like it'd contain what was dripping down them. 

Your knees buckled, body simply refusing to support your weight and brain doing nothing to stop it. 

Satoru caught you, leaning over to hook a sturdy arm around you and pull you on top of him, his other palm pressing your head down against his broad frame. His skin was still sticky, slick with sweat, every breath he forced in and out of his lungs making his chest move, the steady thrum of his heartbeat reverberating in your ear. 

You didn't have enough strength left to move, letting him stroke your hair softly in silence. 

Even if he wasn't currently stuck in Suguru's body, you suspected you'd still let him. 

"You're okay," You barely processed his smooth murmur, still too lost in the haze of what happened. 

"I would like my girlfriend back now," Suguru dryly remarked, a second set of hands sliding up your hips to grab your waist. 

"Mine."

Did Satoru even realize how much he sounded like a five year old trying to steal someone else's toy on the playground?

Suguru crudely laughed, and your shiver was involuntary, how wrong it sounded to hear Gojo's body sound like that. 

But he tugged you free from his own body's grasp, pulling you into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, a hand on your back to support you while he stood in front of you. 

You didn't know if you could ever get used to this.

Staring at Gojo and knowing it was really Suguru, hearing his voice and feeling his hands, picking up on all the little mannerisms you'd grown attached to over the past couple years, how strange it felt to watch someone else do them. 

"Are you-" You paused, flinching a little at how raw your throat felt. "Um, how long are you guys going to be stuck like this?"

"Dunno," Satoru chirped from the other end of the bed behind you while Suguru sighed, rolling those pretty blue eyes. 

"Shoko said it might be a day or two," Suguru answered slowly, his serious stare focused on you, a deep crease between his brows that you'd never seen on Gojo before. 

"Might?" You questioned, the first icy pinpricks of something close to dread starting to sink in at his careful choice of words. 

"She has no idea," Satoru unhelpfully chimed in again, revealing what you guessed was probably the truth judging by Suguru's strained expression. 

"You shouldn't worry about it, okay?" 

It was pretty hard not to worry when those were the words leaving Gojo's mouth. 

He leaned down to kiss you, softer this time, cupping your cheeks. You peeked, unable to help yourself. His sharp nose brushing against yours, his snowy lashes fluttered shut, the white brows peeking out above them. 

"Kiss her like you mean it," Satoru heckled, the bed creaking while he got up. Suguru scoffed at his snipe, barely breaking the kiss. But he did listen, his teeth grazing against your swollen lower lip to dip his tongue further in. 

“That better?” Suguru sarcastically remarked when he pulled away. 

“Could you do it again so I can get a picture?” Satoru was holding up his own phone, snagged from the pants Suguru had discarded earlier, his camera actually pointed towards where you were currently sitting in front of his actual body. 

You were huffing, everything aching when you scrambled back to grab a pillow from the top of the bed to throw at him, giggling to yourself when you remembered he no longer had infinity to block it, the pillow smacking him straight in the face. 

Suguru laughed at him, a lopsided smile forming when the six eyes landed on you. 

“Don't think you're off the hook either,” You pouted, common sense and reasoning starting to trickle in for the first time since Satoru showed up. 

“You wanna punish me first?” Satoru cheekily volunteered himself, not making a move to put any of his, or you guessed really any of Geto's clothes back on. 

“Shut up,” Your face was still flushed, turning away, not sure how to even keep eye contact with either of them when they were swapped like this. 

“Guess we should all just spend the night here, huh?”

poll on what happens in pt. two here

mini a/n: pls lemme know if you enjoyed hehe!!! this is meant to be a oneshot but honestly I'm so tempted to write literally a prequel a sequel and a spinoff bc I simply cannot help myself lmfao <3

taglist: @universal-s1ut @marrymenanami @suguru-ch

[kentosbby]

(S)creaming rn

[richeeduvie]

Jack doesn't keep these photos in a public album. They are hidden away in a password-protected folder on his phone. His private sanctuary of his obsession with you. He scrolls through them when he's stressed at work or when he's feeling that itch that only you can scratch. Do you feel romantic, Sleepy?

The first favorite is the one that makes the blood in his cock simmer. In it, you're sprawled across his sheets, unconscious, your body surrendered to the exhaustion he forced upon you with a heavy fuck (that hey, you asked for).

You're lying on your stomach with your face smashed into the pillow, with your heavy, perfect ass the star of the show. A picture can say a thousand words, but it doesn't...convey how warm you were.

Well, Jack can't exactly claim your ass was the focus, that would be the stream of his cum seeping out of your gaping cunt. He can't help but think it's the visual receipt of his dominance.

This is his record of how he broke you until you couldn't even keep your eyes open. Sleepy Sleepy.

Jack remembers the way you whimpered and begged for mercy before you finally blacked out, but he wishes he had recorded how he carefully wiped the excess off your skin and tucked you under a blanket after snapping the picture. It adds to you and him. He does enjoy ruining you, kiddo. But he treasures how he does.

It's calming after hard nights. And it's only you.

Jack swipes to the second photo. He smiles.

You're wearing an oversized cowboy hat that flops slightly over your eyes. It's a hat you had no business wearing, but he insisted on buying it for you. It's the Pittsburgh fair.

He had spent most of the date leaning in to lick the sugar off your lips and stealing bites of the cotton candy you're holding.

To anyone else, it's just a cute photo. To Jack, it's a picture of the only toy he needs. The most beautiful girl he'll always take care of.

He just doesn't know which one he's gonna make his wallpaper.

[richeeduvie]

You buy an expensive gift for Jack, and instead of being rewarded with gruff, flirty praises and kisses while he rams his fat cock inside you, your loving doctor smacks the shit out of your ass instead. It’s punishment for not buying it with his card.

"M'not your damn sugar baby, kid."

...You only thought of returning him his oh-so-many favors of paying and providing for you, because...you know. He tends to treat you like one. A sugar baby.

Buying the gift with his card defeats the whole purpose of buying Jack a present, anyway! But when he acts like you slapped him with the receipt and told the world he can’t provide for his girl, who are you to complain?

Well. You complain. You whine, to be specific, just about how much each ass smack stings.

"Wanna do something nice for me, Sleepy? You tolerate me. That’s plenty."

The needy whines are bad enough. Jack can’t handle the way you jiggle under his palm.

Yeah. He’s got plenty.

[doedixon]

‧₊ ༯ constable rick and his dirty mouth…

“shit. just look at you…”

alexandria’s streets have never been quieter than in this moment, and thank god. you’re not sure how you’d turn up to any community events going forward if anyone saw you here like this, slutting yourself out for officer grimes the second he’s instated.

“r-riiick, fuck! someone’s gonna see—”

a particularly punchy thrust from him knocks the wind out of your lungs, cutting you off with your own gasp. you start to claw at the siding of the home he has you pushed up against, trying to find any solace from the way his dick splits you open. rick groans nice and long, taking a second to readjust you and to speak.

“such a sweet girl, y’know? mmh- who would’ve known… a uniform would get you this wet.”

he hikes up your hip, thoughtfully smoothing his rough hands over your exposed skin before fucking into you again. he drinks in your whines, head dipped down to watch the way you take him so eagerly, easily.

your hands grab at nothing before shakily finding rick’s arms, flexed under his jacket. his head shoots up, another taunt already playing on his tongue feeling you run your fingers over the badge embroidered on his sleeve. it brings a faraway, fucked out look in your eyes he’s obsessed with. the strength in his grip frees you to go limp, squeezing the life out of his arms, your cunt just drooling around his length.

“you like that.” rick purrs, not even bothering to ask. “is it the badge, honey? haah.. s’that what gets you this dumb?”

you try to nod, form a sexy, coherent reply, anything other than just moan and let him take you, but he makes it so hard. the curve of his cock sliding inside you so evenly is unreal, white is already beginning to blear your vision, and he’s absolutely right. this new authority of rick’s is making you very dizzy.

“don’t ignore me, sweetheart…” grabbing your attention, rick moves you all the way down his cock in one swift motion, bottoming out and holding you there.

you yelp followed by a string of curses, squirming while he exhales a dry chuckle. staying in tune with you, he moves in and catches your lips in a quick but steady kiss, his fresh stubble tickling slightly as he eventually moves his way down your neck.

“wasn’t… i wasn’t ignoring you, sir,” you start, regaining your wit. rick immediately reacts to the title, almost growling into your skin. he nips you before separating, those calculating blue eyes shifting all over your face with a dangerous smirk ghosting his lips.

“i-i don’t want any trouble.”

rick hums in faux consideration, massaging nicely at your sides before moving a hand to your lower stomach, right above where your bodies connect. holding you firm once again, he picks up his forgotten pace, fucking you like some kind of doll. all the heat of the moment bubbles frantically in your core, right where he’s pressing down on. you pathetically throw your worry of getting caught to the sun, whining your new constable’s name like a mantra as he breaks you in.

“yeaahh. cum like a good girl and there won’t be any trouble.”

— authors note. hiii im new here :p my first time writing for rick which is v suprising cause twd is my favorite ever. thanks for reading 💘

[kentosbby]

Loveloveloveee it!! I started TWD a while ago only got to S5 till now cause of exams

[tonycries]

Your (Super)Man - N.K.

Synopsis. He’s not a bird. He’s not a plane. He’s…just Nanami Kento from the journalism department. But you have a feeling that Nanami’s hiding a super big secret - and not just the one down there.

Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, Clark Kent! Nanami, SUPERMAN AU, aphrodísiacs, coworkers-to-Iovers, he is a GENTLEMAN, slight víoIence, Itadori cameo, saving people, píning, manhandIing, he is BIG, cervíx kíssing, making it fit, pússydrúnk Nanami, oraI (fem rec.), BRÉEDING, creampíes, cúmplay, spítting, Nanami’s POWERS, matíng presses, face-sítting, buIges, BREAKING THE BED, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 9.7k

A/N. CLARK KENT(O) NANAMI SAVE MEEEE

“There’s just something about him, Shoko.”

“Right…”

You’re flicking a quick roll of your eyes as your coworker continues stealing drowsy sips of her early morning coffee. Well, her fifth of the morning. Grumbling out, “I swear- There’s just something about him that feels so…” Eyes drifting - as they much seemed to do these days - to the man in question. “-different.”

And, listen, Shoko would whole-heartedly prefer the tittering office gossip with you over working on her weeks-late article any day of the week. 

But times like this, she really had no idea whether the two of you were staring - undoubtedly creepily - at the same Nanami Kento. 

That stoic, mild-mannered hire who’d just been freshly accepted into your journalism sector. Tall, seemingly powerful - yet, he acted anything but. A gentle giant with the suspicious patience of a saint even against the worst of editors - honestly, she’s musing, just who was this guy?

“Hm…” Fingers digging into her achy temples as if trying to will away the memory of her upcoming deadlines. And this. “Maybe you just need to get laid. A proper, genuine good f-”

“Shoko.”

And she’s cracking her first laugh of the day, ducking underneath her computer screen with a sigh as Yaga passes by dangerously close. “Well, you were thinking about it. Harlot.”

You’re sighing, too - though for a much different reason, she imagines. 

Gaze narrowing as you finally rip them away from the blond-haired man dwarfing the corporate cubicle opposite the two of you. Bumbling and fixing the glasses on his face for the nth time this hour. “W-well it doesn’t help that he’s hot.”

Shoko’s mere milliseconds away from opening her sharp mouth once more - and you’re mere milliseconds away from wincing at what was surely to fall from them. Before- 

A call of your name.

Ah, saved by the bell - or, your managing editor, more like. Though, you weren’t sure if you’d consider it “saving” when Yaga’s holding out a crisp stack of documents your way. Brows furrowed underneath his sunglasses, he gruffs out, “They finally cleared the pitch for your article on that flower. You’re good to go.”

“O-oh, that’s great. Thank you.” Plastering on a simpering smile on your face, you’re hastily clasping those papers. “I’ll get started on the interviews right away.”

Articles on flower shops weren’t quite the adrenaline-thumping journalism you’d expected to work on when you first joined this company. Initially concocting fantasies about interviewing your city’s nefarious villains or perhaps even…Superman .

But ah, those were just dreams. And it seems that someone here had to report on things like mysterious flower shipments to local florists - which just-so-happened to be you.

You’re pulled out of your pitiful little reverie by another echo of your name. Turning back to Yaga, brows raised. “Yes?”

“And take Nanami with you.”

Oh.

Oh. 

“Ah, sorry you’re paired up with me, Nanami.” You’d be chuckling much, much later when you’d gathered your files and your wits to be stuffed inside an elevator with your coworker. “I’d imagine something like this probably wouldn’t have been your ideal first taste of real journalism.”

Eyes straying anywhere but where you could spy the way the suit buttons over his chest looked like they were about to pop! Nanami was unfairly attractive, even when he was slouched and nervously struggling to meet your eyes with his honeypool ones.

Always known around the rest of the company to be so timid - but you get the feeling that he was being extra jumpy around you.

He’s shaking his head - golden strands of hair curtaining his handsome face. “Please don’t worry. I’m only grateful that you’re taking me with you, I-I promise to try my best not to be a burden, ma’am.”

“Aw, no need to call me that. We’re the same age, after all.” Subtly, you’re mashing the button for the ground floor a few more times. Suddenly reminded of how dizzyingly tiny this space was. How much of it he was occupying. “And I can’t promise that I won’t be a burden, either.”

You’d meant it as a joke - you really did. But after seeing the way that Nanami’s forehead crinkles with a furrow, you almost wish you could take back those words. 

“Anyone would be lucky to have you as a partner.” He’s mumbling - such earnestness dripping from his rich baritone that you can feel your eyes widening a fraction. And Nanami sees it, too. 

“Oh?”

“I mean-” Fingers fumbling to push up his thick-rimmed glasses, he’s tightening his yellow speckled tie almost as if he wished to choke away that burning flush creeping up from the back of his drooped neck and blossoming at the tips of his ears. “Just- just that you’re one of the most c-competent journalists in our company and I’m only honored to be learning from the best and- o-oh, it seems we’re here.” 

It’s a wonder that Nanami noticed - it’s a wonder that you noticed once those metallic doors parted like a curtain to reveal the bustling lobby. Finally here.

He’s holding out the curved end of one big, strong arm, bent at the elbow to show off the straining stretch of his flexing biceps. And you can’t help but ogle. “M-may I?”

It takes you copious seconds of staring at the thoroughly outlined bulge of his sculpted arm for you to finally snap to your senses. And a few more to finally realize what he was asking. 

Something warm and mushy pools in your stomach. Fuck.

Tentatively wrapping your hands around the rock-hard mounds of flesh so that Nanami - ever-the-gentleman - could tenderly escort you out, as if this was a ballroom and not your workplace. 

And you can’t help but think that perhaps you didn’t mind tedious interviews if it went anything like this. 

.

.

.

“So, there’s no sender address?”

“Nope.”

“No date?” 

“Nada.”

“And no postage?” 

“Tch, I wish!”

You’re tapping your trusty pen against the parchment of the notepad, gears wracking in your thoroughly overworked brain. “Mr. Itadori, is there a possibility that this might be a prank?”

Wasuke Itadori shakes his head with a grunt, weathered fingers brushing over the aggressively violet petals of a flower you think looked too bizarre to even be pulled out of your very dreams. He’s tapping the stiff flower once. Twice. 

And you’re gasping when a tiny puff of shimmering pink billows out like a heady cloud. Perfumed. Hypnotizing. A musky vanilla that makes you draw in further, and reminds you of- Eyes peeking over at an aloof Nanami…him. 

“See? Smells jus’ like my wife’s cheap citrus perfume. N’ unless she’s haunting me from beyond the grave as she said she would, it seems too elaborate of a prank ta me. It’s obviously livin’, but I can’t find any information on this flower for the life of me.” The older man crosses his arms, scowling, “Ya have no idea how many times I’ve had ta stop my stupid grandson from trying to eat this thing.”

Humming, you’re jotting down a few notes - fingers tremoring ever-so-slightly at Nanami’s burning gaze right beside you. “Have there been any strange effects on the other flora since you’ve acquired this special flower?”

“Nah, nothing at all- that’s the thing, s’like it’s alien or something. Just showed up at my door one day n’ I dunno what it is.” He’s grouching - and you have to agree. That is strange. 

You’d never heard of any other florist’s receiving this type of strange…gift? 

But you can’t voice anything more before a voice sounds from outside the see-through door, and the man before you clicks his tongue. “Ah! Dammit, that reminds me- my flower vendor’s here already. Excuse me while I step outside, you can throw the lil’ gremlin in with the marigolds if he bothers ya too much.”

You’re holding back a chuckle - honestly, this was nothing like you expected, you think you would have enjoyed this interview regardless. 

Wasuke was a doting grandpa - as much as he may deny it. And his tiny, pink-haired menace of a grandson was positively bouncing off the walls at having official journalists enter the cozy flower shop. Dangling midair off of a closely-observing Nanami’s shoulders with two chubby arms wrapped around the other’s neck.

Though, you certainly weren’t complaining at the sight.

“Hey- pretty lady- mister Nananamin-” Yuji’s squeaking into his ear. “Are you two married?” 

You’re sure that if Wasuke was within earshot he’d have grabbed the child by the scruff of his neck. But, alas, Nanami was beared with none of that mercy. 

Teasing, “Hmm, would you like to answer this, Nanami?”

“No- I mean yes! N-no, this lovely lady and I are not married.” He’s huffing out a low bout of laughter, massive palms barely even having to try to pick up Yuji’s wiggling body. And you can’t stop the way your heart lurches when he’s softly cradling the younger boy in one arm - fuck, you really need to get yourself together.

“Why not?”

And perhaps for the first time since you’ve known him, Nanami Kento looked truly and utterly stunned. Hazel eyes pleading your way, mouth opening and closing a few desperate times. “Well…”

But Yuji only plows on with the oblivious confidence that only comes with being freshly five. “Then, since you’re erm- what was that word Megumi said? Uh- d-divowced, can I marry her?”

Ah.

Giggling behind your palm, you’re almost on the verge of saving your poor coworker. Almost. 

That is, before it happens. 

CRASH!

You can’t hear anything, you can’t feel anything, you can’t see anything - other than a bright, blood red. Fuck- 

“N-Nanami? Yuji?” Your voice is shrill - cracking, and you’re unsure if the way you grimace is because of how utterly pathetic you sound or because of the complete devastation in front of you. “Wh-what…”

Shit. 

Heaps upon heaps of concrete and wrecked pieces of building pile upon what was once the Itadori family flower shop. Flowerpots knocked over, the ceiling crumbling, bright morning sunlight filtering from above to illuminate a thick blanket of swirling dust. 

As if a whirlwind had wrecked it through and caught up you right in the middle of it - purposefully. 

Shit shit shit-

Gasping, heaving to try and scramble your thoughts into one big coherent one - but then instantly regretting it when your entire body wracks with painful coughs. You’re so confused - head churning with exactly what’s happening right now - that you barely even register the large hand soothing over your back.

Your ears ring with a sharp keen, eyes bleary and tinging with black - it hurts. And you’re pressing a hand to your forehead with a hiss. Unbalanced voice on the edges of shattering into a zillion pieces, “What happened- wh-where-”

“Shhh shh shh, you’re going to be alright, darling.”

What? 

Your head snaps up - it’s then that you notice it.

Finally. 

Body tucked safely behind the overarching counter of the flower shop, far from where the sudden impact of something would have hit you. You’re crouched against all the wood and debris that dug uncomfortably into your legs. Your hands tremble - but not just with fear, no, with the tearful cries of a curled-up Yuji snuggling thankfully safely into your body.

All in the arms of…Nanami?

But, wait, no- it was as if it wasn’t him at all. 

Because gone were those heavy glasses framing his pretty face, and you’re blinking your lethargic lids urgently to drink in the stern, serious features they’d left behind. Brows furrowed, plump lips pulled tightly when he’s clenching his jaw, muscles flexing as he’s holding you two tighter - as if subconsciously. 

There was something different about him, something…magnetic, like a flip had just switched on. And you’re definitely blaming the way your head was swimming - but you can’t help but think he looked so hot.

Fuck - now’s not the time.

Soft locks of blond were windswept to slick back, that snug coat of his tattered onto the floor to display an emblazoned logo that you wouldn’t be able to mistake even if you tried. 

“You’re…” you breathe, and it’s a wonder that the syllables come out coherent at all. Jaw falling slack at the glimpses of that familiar skin-tight red and blue suit you’ve seen smeared across every magazine, every news column, and every show these days. “...Superman.”

And it takes a second. Two. 

Until Nanami’s long lashes flutter with a little pant of laughter, a singular thick finger straightening into a shush-ing gesture when he’s smiling down warmly at a sniffling Yuji, “This’ll be our little secret, right?”

“Y-yes!” The little boy hiccups, plump palms scrambling to cover his mouth. And you think you could spy a tiny smile rising through his short fingers. Though it wavers, “Mister Nananamin- I mean- Mister Superman, my grandpa is still outside…”

He’s nodding, “I’ll keep you all safe-” Before turning to you with eyes so scorching that you can feel yourself inch in closer against the stiff fabric of his supersuit. “-all of you.” 

“Ahhh~ touching touching. Didn’t think I’d run into dear ol’ Superman here.” A high, eerie voice rings over the thundering blood pumping to your head, and you’re burying even deeper into Nanami’s sculpted side. “But ah, not to worry, Man of Steel, m’jus’ here to pick up a little lost package of my friend’s so…”

Nanami’s stiffening underneath your touch, and with a slow nod he’s getting up from your little hiding place. 

And if looks could kill - which you knew Superman could do - then the greyish, patched man in front of you wouldn’t have been waltzing in through the utterly destroyed door already. As if he owned the place. Owned all of you. 

“Mahito, we’ve spoken before.” Nanami’s voice was hardened with a growl in a way you’ve never heard. Fuming. “Leave now and no one gets hurt.”

There’s a metallic click! resonating across what was left of the four walls of this shop, as if he was loading some type of gun. But not as you’ve ever known one. 

And Nanami’s eyes narrow with a thick coating of tension when Mahito’s fingers curl around that flower - the exact one you’d come here to interview about in the first place. Plucking it neatly from the vase before crushing the waxy petals between his fingers. 

“You sure ya wanna talk to me like that when you’ve got civilians here, Superman?” Voice airy, delighted. As if he wasn’t currently loading an opening in that specialized gun with the gooey insides of that flower. Before pointing it - right at the bullseye where you were scoured away. “Especially with sweetcheeks here? Don’t think I don’t know how soft ya are for-”

Nanami stretches into an attack-ready position. “So you’re after the innocents again.”

“Ah- no, actually.” Mahito snickers. Snickers. “I’m after you.”

BANG!

It all happens so fast that you’re not even sure if everything’s part of your imagination - whether this is all still a dream. 

Because in the bat of an eye, Mahito has the slightly-glowing barrel of the gun pointed your way. Bursting the counter into nothing but a few shockwaves and shards of plastic. 

And in the bat of much less, Nanami’s shielding you with his entire body, sculptured front glissading against your back, beefy arms curled snugly around your waist. Head tucked over yours to make sure every inch of you is protected, Yuji placed gently at his side. 

Your bleary vision clouds with a familiar fog of pink - dazzling and addictive with that same musky perfume. Was- wasn’t this what Wasuke had shown you earlier?

“Shit! Wh-what the fuck is this?!” You’re hearing off in the distance - or perhaps it was right beside you, you didn’t even know at this point. “That damn Hanami- this isn’t the poison-”

He’s letting off a shiver, before gritting out. One arm holding out to you just as it had in the elevator, the memory hits you with pang. “Y-you two need to get to safety. Now. May I?”

If it weren’t for the hours of droning meetings faced with Nanami, the weeks of trying to get him to speak with you - months of memorizing every syllable that dripped from his pretty lips, then you wouldn’t even have noticed. But you did. 

“W-wait-.” Your throat scratches and struggles to get the words out, matching the shakes in his own tone. “You’re hurt, aren’t you?”

But the only answer you get is a soft, mysterious smile. And the repeated hum - as if you weren’t wrangling yourself around to peek at where he was undoubtedly hit. “No need to worry about me, my love- ah. My first and foremost priority is you two-”

“But you’re hurt.” you’re crying out, gasping when Mahito’s eyes lock with yours. And he leers, knobbly fingers fussing to reset that weapon once more. 

“I know.” Stray tresses of golden flaxen stick to Nanami’s sweat-glimmered forehead like an impromptu crown, and you don’t know how he has it in himself to smile down at you. Cradling Yuji in one arm, and you in the other as if the two of you were easily weightless - you can only gape at the adorable dimple digging into the left corner of his mouth. “Now, hold on tight.”

You do - and you can only blink before your savior is flying. 

Now, you’d always marvelled at the sheer heights that Superman reached on those live newscasts. Wondering just how euphoric it must be to soar through the air, free from every care in the world - well, as much as you could be when the fate of the world rests on your shoulders, at least.

But this? This was heaven.

Wind whipping your face like an icy mask, Yuji’s high peels of laughter tinkling in your ears. You can’t do anything but watch and watch as the demolished flower shop grows smaller. A speck. 

“Oh- oh my god.” You’re whispering thorough scrunched eyes, nails clawing deeply into the mountainous curve of his well-defined deltoid.

And if it hurt, then Nanami didn’t give a single sign. Instead, he’s laughing - quiet, and as delicate at the cottony clouds passing you by. “S’alright, s’alright. Super- Ken’s here. N’ m’not gonna drop you.” You’re cutting through the air so fast - staggeringly - but right now, when Nanami’s boring his eyes into yours, it felt like time itself had stumbled to a stop. He’s pulling you even closer to his powerful body, “I’d never let ya go, darling.”

Yet, when the view of your cozy Metropolis apartment comes into view - you almost whine at the fact that he has to. 

“Don’t you worry about a thing now.” Nanami’s ruffling Yuji’s windblown mop of pink hair - even more tousled with the wind. “I’ll be going, and I’ll keep both you and your grandpa safe.”

And looking at him right now - velvety crimson cape flowing at the wind seeping in through your open window, one arm bulging with muscles as he leans readily against the frame - you wonder how you could’ve ever thought that anyone other than him could be Superman.

“Come back safe.” You’re choking out, hands clasped. “W-we’re still not done with our article…”

“Mhm, you better hold me to that, ma’am.” 

And with that, Superman - Nanami - was zipping through the air at a mach speed that made you realize he was intentionally slowing it down for both you and Yuji on your way here. 

Fingers quivering, it takes you what feels like practically forever to turn your television on - precisely onto a live newstream of how Superman had entered the site of a villain attack. Ready to save. To be a hero. 

Eyes locked mindlessly on the tiny blimp of red and blue onscreen, you cuddle a fidgety Yuji on the bouncy cushions of your sofa. For your jittery nerves just as much as his. “Your husband is so cool, lady- he’s Superman! Oh- whoops, shhhh! Tha’s a secret though…”

“Yeah…” you’re breathing out. “Yeah, he is cool, isn’t he?”

.

.

.

Forty-five saved, three buildings wrecked, and one injured. 

One injured - him.

Though, Nanami wouldn’t quite count himself with any civilians injured or…worse. He never quite does. 

But, oh, it was so hard not to when the first thing he’s peeling back that hazy layer of fatigue in his eyes is you - you, you, you. In all your glorious self, big, pearlescent tears spilling down your pretty cheeks and splattering in tiny puddles onto his bare chest. 

His bare, bandaged chest. 

And for a second, powers set aside, Nanami thinks he might just have died and reached heaven. How fitting that the angels looked like you. 

Voice hoarse as he’s muttering his first few words, “Are- are you alright?”

“-stupid. Asking about m-me when you’re the one hurt. Didn’t even-” Your sobs garble out into words, and you’re half-heartedly hitting your fist against the unbandaged part of Nanami’s skin. “Don’t you ever do that again- you had me- so worried.”

Ah, he’d won the fight - and he finally felt like it.

Silently, he makes quick work abandoning those delicate bandages of yours - a strange part of him almost hurt to unravel your work like this. To unravel nothing but silken, unblemished skin after hours of healing abilities.

Though, Nanami gives all the credit to your care, anyway.

Warm fingers cup your head to nuzzle your clammy face against the crook of his neck. Practically draped over your bed and onto his body now, and you could feel his burning skin, smell those musky pheromones of his. “Got it got it, I won’t be scaring you like that again.”

“Th-the neighbors were so worried when you just showed up all injured n’ half-fainting at my window, y’know? I had to bribe them to be quiet with a few of the flowers that Yuji’s grandpa left.” You’re muttering, more to fill the strangely thickening silence than anything. 

“Ah, tell- tell Mr. Itadori that I will have his shop reconstructed by the end of this week.” He’s whispering, voice so strained that you had to crane your head to hear him - close. “Was Yuji doing alright?”

“Mhm, never been better, apparently. He just left with his grandpa, and they invited us over for dinner before…” Brows furrowing, words withering away on your tongue at the agonized knit in his brow. There was something…different. “Are- are you really okay, Kento?”

Nanami doesn’t comment about that use of his first name - nor does he embarrassingly babble out how it might just be his new favorite song now. 

He can’t.

Because Nanami was panting - groaning. Pearly whites clenched so hard that you think you could hear them creak. 

There was a strange simmering flush creeping up his body, staining it such a delicious strawberry pink that made your mouth water- or maybe that was just the emanating clouds of vanilla musk saturating your lungs. Clinging onto Nanami’s body like a dripping second skin-

“I…” he’s gulping, half-lidded eyes shifting away from yours like he couldn’t even bear to look at you right now. Didn’t know what he would do. “-my apologies. But what that fucker- ah- excuse my language. What Mahito hit me with seems to not have been a poison, as I had thought. Rather, now that it’s finally spread through my body, I feel it’s something else entirely… ” 

“What is it- does it hurt?”

“It seems to be…” Gesturing wildly with his hands, careful not to jostle you. “-an aphrodisiac…of sorts.”

You’re letting your lips part, “Oh. Wait- ‘of sorts?’”

And ah, there was the timid Kento you knew. He could never lie to you. “It- itseemstoonlyaffectthoseinlove- B-but my healing abilities are working and-” Nanami’s sitting up faster than you could blink. Words running a mile-a-minute, “-and I shall leave in case you feel uncomfortable with me here-”

“Why would you leave?” It’s slipping between your lips before you can register. Still mulling over those previous words - they explained. A lot. 

Nanami stills, hands clasped around those creamy blankets he was flinging off, sure to disappear into the starry night. “P-pardon?”

Well, fuck. 

You’re steeling your gaze - you’ve waited this long. And if there was anything about Nanami’s afflicted aphrodisiac, it was that it was contagious.

Making you breathe in a heavy gulp of candied air, “Aphrodisiac, huh? I’ve read about those, and don’t you think that since you saved me-” Slowly - ever-so-slowly dragging your hands to rest on his smooth shoulders, faces inches away. “-it’s only fair that I help? Besides…I can smell it too.”

Oh, he gasps. A confession if any.

Fingers tangling through those damp locks. “But if- if you get tangled up with me- who knows what other villains will come after you. I might’ve taken down Mahito today, but Kenjaku is still out there. And I have to keep ya safe.”

“Well who’s going to keep you safe?” You scoff, refusing - rejecting - to relent.

“I don’t need to be safe if it means that I can keep that beautiful smile on your face everyday.” And maybe it was the aphrodisiac, maybe it was how close you were to him in this dimly heady lightning, but Nanami didn’t seem like he meant to say that out loud. Not at all. 

Basking in your spellbound silence. “My love…feel this?” He’s clasping one hand around your own, letting you rover a greedy grope of his plush pecs - his heartbeat. Thundering. Frighteningly so. “Th-this isn’t any old aphrodisiac, especially considering me.”

“And?”

“And that means, darling-” But he was, too, just as much. “That m’gonna want ya…need ya. So badly and fuck! M’gonna make ya forget what it feels like without me…” One rounded index trailing up, up, up to about halfway up your tummy. “-here.”

You’re shuddering, taking in deep gulps of that electric air. “...A-and?”

He’s jerking you forwards with a mere fraction of that superhuman strength to splay your body over his towering one. Face lolling into the cushiony valley of his pecs, legs straddling that slutty waist of his in a way that made you shy. Right on top of his drenched boxers. That needy spot between your legs heating up just as much as his condensing breath did on your skin. “I can’t promise that when I fuck you, I won’t break you.”

Fuck. Was this really the same, adorably feeble Nanami Kento from work? You weren’t sure, but you knew one way to find out…

“I’ll…hold you to that.”

But before he was Superman, he was Nanami Kento from the journalism department. And who was Nanami Kento against you?

“Such a stubborn girl.” You’re being surprised with a sudden implanting of his thick set of fingers leaving a sudden swat on your ass, voice teetering on what almost sounded like a growl. “But you’re mine, aren’tcha?”

Your fingers dapple along the sweat-dampened little curls of blond at the sexy edge of his undercut. And it seemed like the more the aphrodisiac boiled into his veins, the more and more he burned feverishly. 

Senses superhuman but already heightening with the coarse need glossing his brain - he could practically taste your arousal. 

Panting. Charming maw falling parted to mist you own with such rousing puffs of his scent, “Kiss me. Please- kiss me.”

And- fuck, Nanami kisses like he couldn’t get enough of you.

Was absolutely drunk with just a simple slide of his pursed mouth against your own, from a tender little peck until he only got greedier and greedier-

“Mmmm-” Rasping grunts curdle at the back of his throat, slurring into a low whine when he’s wrenching a splayed-out hand onto your scalp and dragging you away. Manhandling. Sultry sucks being left on the tenderest spots of your throat, sure to make the office talk tomorrow. “Can feel how fuckin’ wet ya are f’me already, darlin’. S’this the aphrodisiac or you?”

God, it was so embarrassing. 

That silky little puddle of your reflective slick was flooding from between your flimsy panties to press gluey little smooches against his manspread front. 

You’re mumbling, words stumbling over one another when your hips peek in to seat just above that swollen crown of his cock. Already rock-hard. “Y-you don’t have to say it out loud.”

You barely even realize how you’re slipping and sliding in needy little gyrations of your hips before Nanami’s putting a shuddering halt to it. One rude hand curling around that perfect curvature of your waist, he’s snickering at how you’re letting off a thoroughly disappointed whine. “My apologies, but s’hard f’me to act like a hah- gentleman when ya have such gorgeous lips…” He’s chuckling out - humorless, parking one big thumb against the corner of your mouth. “These ones, too.” 

He couldn’t even finish his sentence - couldn’t even finish his thought.

Not before bruising your lips with some of the filthiest little sucks on your lower lip - like he’d simply gone way too long without kissing you. Once. Twice. Again and again and-

“O-oh!”  Your hands scramble to find purchase up on his broad shoulders when he’s darting down one fat thumb to paint with all your silvery pussy slick. Drawing slow meshes of circles on your soppy slit up and down up and down up and- “N-Nanami-”

“Kento.” He’s cutting you off with a fracturing furrow of his brows, “We’re way past last names, don’tcha think, my love?”

Oh, that sweetly rugged tone stirred up something inside you that made you want Nanami now now now.

“Oh? S’that so?” Ravenous edges of his fingers pulling aside your sticky panties to the side to sidle in with one thick drag of his digits, they’re being lacquered with such a heavy layer of your sweet, sweet juices that Nanami can’t help but drag his fingerpads upwards to sniff. To suck one by one. Sweet. “You’re heh- babblin’ cute nonsense, but fuuuuck this cute cunt is talkin’ ta me even filthier.”

In such sappy awe at the way your puffy pussy flaps were sugarcoating him all the way down till Nanami was dripping at the wrist. Metallic wristwatch from work all shiny and ruined-

“Need you t-to touch me inside, Ken–” you’re huffing, circling lazy grinds across his roughened hands. “Please?”

“Anythin’ for my girl.”

And Nanami’s giving your ass another good thwack! of his palm, feeling the vibrato of delicious jiggles before hauling your entire body higher and higher. Letting his back hit the silken sheets of your bed within a fluid motion, before you even know it you’re hovering your clothed cunt over his swelteringly fevered mouth. 

Just one sudden move and you’d be riding his face - exactly what Nanami wanted right now. Yearned. 

“Oh- wait-” You’re startling, fingers fumbling with that tight pencil skirt you’d worn to work specifically for him to see. “Didn’t take this-”

“Not a problem.” He’s grunting, only looking up with droopy eyes at where you’re straddling his handsome face, decorated with tawny strands of hair when he’s grinning. Thick fingers clasping onto the hem at your waist, “Hold on tight n’ show me that pretty pussy.”

RIIIIIP–!

Your skirt is on the floor, torn through like butter - your blouse and bra soon to follow. Impatient. And it’s only once Nanami’s done savoring that sweet embarrassment wafting off of you, the way your drenched pussymound smells so sugary sweet - does he even consider freeing you of them.

He’s scrunching up the sodden wet fabric into a little treasure hidden underneath your pillow - something for him later…

And you’re even wetter than usual, that contagious spell of aphrodisiac making your eyes glaze with sheer need. 

“Aw, look at thaaaat.” Nanami’s breathing - enchanting. The curves of his lips lifting into a smirk at the way your dripping slit treacles a fresh coating of slick all down his tongue, letting it sliiiide a lazy trailway to hit the back of his scratchy tastebuds. “Atta girl, b-better be taking all of me if yer that eager, hm?”

And Nanami is so needy - he’s so desperate to have your clingy pussy make a mess all over his face as soon as possible. 

Breathing in like some pervert to take in your perfumed scent. Reaching up to smear a wet glissade of his lips down your own, and you think that it might just be the filthiest French snog that anyone has ever placed on you. The buttoned edge of his nose mushes against your peeked clit so harshly. 

He’s blazing, cock thumping for more- With a low, heated whistle, he’s nuzzling his sweat-glossed forehead up against your moistened inner thigh. Layers upon layers of your slick coveting his features and stinging delicate little ropes that connect his maw to your cunt.

“Mmm- fuckin’ sweet- fuckin’ hot–” Nanami keens out, pillowy palms spreading your legs so comfortably apart until you felt like he was cracking you open. “C’mon now, sit your f-full weight on me, my love.”

You’re sputtering, thighs all achy with fatigue. “B-but-”

“Darling…” Nanami’s smiling, eyes crinkling adorably at the corners. “Not to be conceited - forgive my tone - but I’m Superman. N’ if there was any way m’to die, then it would be right between these pretty legs of yours.”

And you didn’t know whether it was the fumes of vanilla aphrodisiac taking over his melty brain completely because Nanami was ruthless. 

Your dear, sweet coworker was kissing the very edges of your bloated cunt with one of his oversized fingers. Sifting through to draw numerous innocent hearts on your sensitive clit, before plunging down,down, down-

“Ah!” You’re yelping at the stinging stretch of his souring fingerpads, swirling in mushy little gyrations around and around your elastic entrance. Extra sensitive right now- damn that flower. “H-how is your finger already feeling so…”

“Good? Does my heh- good girl like this?” He’s cooing up at you, feeling your gloopy cunt with such copious inches of his long hands. 

And with such staggering fingers you could only imagine how big he’d be down there…

SWAT!

“Aww, don’t space out already. Wanna hear those p-pretty moans even longer-” The jutting pout of Nanami’s oh-so-cute lower lip smudges against your saturated clit. Tingling and hot when he tilts his head to bite. “‘Sides, how are ya gonna f-fit my cock if this is too big, hm?”

You’re holding back a wrecked whimper when he’s chancing another rummaging finger to part your pursed pussy lips. Ramming up and down to drag a sultry stripe across every nook and gummy ridge, to feel for- 

“F-fuck-” Head throwing back, your spine arches into a tight little bow that slops the entirety of your cunt down onto Nanami’s eagerly awaiting mouth. “There- there there there- don’ stop, Kentooo.”

He’s been waiting for this forever. And he was going to get his fill. 

And you could feel the way his mouth curled into a flirty smile, the back of his sharp chin slathered against the very back of where you needed him the most. 

“Mhm– Not gonna let ya go-” As if to prove his point, one free hand is all it takes for him to latch onto your waist and pin you to ride his face with reckless abandon. Exactly how he wanted it. “Wanna marry ya- be mine- please-” Because Nanami Kento didn’t want to move an inch - couldn’t bear parting with the exact sweet treat that’s haunted his most lecherous dreams since the day he fucking met you. “-never- ah- never after th-this.”

Such pretty, pretty melodies resonate out every time Nanami’s slobbering honeyed flurries of sucks and kisses onto your cunt - and not just from between your lips.

No, your teary pussymound was so loud with wiry sploshes of sap. And he simply can’t help himself from nodding his head with every waterlogged swash - as if he was having a full fucking conversation.

“S’right- m’wife’s always so right aren’tcha-” Nanami’s rawly drenched fingers pump outside - just for a split-second - to pap! pap! pap! his calloused pads on that syrupy little stud of your clit before curling his fingers into his mouth and sucking. Cleaning himself off. “Sh-should hear what yer gorgeous pussy’s been hah- sayin’- such a talkative girl, isn’t she?”

And those drunken chestnut eyes of his were just pleading - begging - for you to babble out, “Wh-what is she saying, Ken?”

“She’s sayin’- boasting, actually…” he’s drawling off, and with just how utterly fucked that Nanami looked right now, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d lost his train of thought. Giggling - giggling out, “-that she can take three.”

He was determined to prove it to you.

To swell your adhesive walls open with three of his pulpy fingers until you felt like you were going to burst. Those thickset globular ends of his digits reaching for that precious little bullseye of your cunt - he’s caressing you lovingly from the inside.

Over and over back and forth in maddening crawls until you were halfway through sobbing. And a primal itch inside him purrs at the sight of those prettily glistening tears in your eyes.

Ah, you looked so gorgeous riding his face like this - and, really, it wasn’t Nanami’s fault that his mouth felt a little left out…was it?

“B-both?” You’re dawdling your limp arms precariously onto the mahogany headboard - something that lasts for a generous two seconds before he’s unlatching your hands to dig harshly into his prespired tug. Firm arm around your first nudging you to pull- “You’re seriously gonna t-try n’ fit both?”

Both being the way that Nanami’s overfilling your snug channel with the dual penetration of his long, extra-sensitive tongue. 

Hissing with a slightly feral snarl marring those features when your tight hole won’t give way, Nanami’s bumping his nose against your sensitive nub with shy pecks once. Twice. Thrice to bully his feverish muscle inside.

“H-hngh—” he’s groaning at the tugging squeeze of your rubbery cunt. Stray fingers scissoring open your gluey walls, “Need ya to m-milk my tongue- know you can- ah! Gonna take it like my good girl, aren’tcha?” 

And it happens all at once.

You don’t know what you’re more surprised at - the way that he’s somehow managing to wedge in that sugarcoated drive of his tongue, or the way that you’re cumming.

Your own high taking you by surprise - taking all but Nanami by surprise. 

And you’ve never felt anything like this before, eyes flashing with white-hot stars. 

They’re burning into your brain and rendering you absolutely stupid with every bludgeon of his fingers into your gooey depths. So fast and hard that you can feel the recoil from your bulging g-spot sprinting in cratering vibrations down your spine.

“Nana- Ken-ohhh fuck!” Your mouth drivels away mindlessly, the euphoria so good that you can feel pools of dribble spilling from the corners of your lips with every grind. Thighs quaking, somehow wanting more- shit, seems the aphrodisiac won’t be done after just one…“M’cumming- ngh- m’cumming m’c-cumming.”

“Mhmmm- already know.” Words sinking down into what almost sounds like whines, and Nanami almost feels like he could cum in his pants. “Come now- pull on m’hair n’ r-ride me through that pretty high.” Filthy. Depraved. He’s curling the deliciously gravely tastebuds on his tongue to lap up every one of your knotted waves of slick, letting viscous wad after wad hit the back of his throat with a lewd splat!. “H-hehhh. Chatty pussy- y’know what else she’s sayin’?”

Shit- the idea makes your fingers nimbly pull at Nanami’s soft strands until he’s wafting out a low atta giiirl. Mumbling through croaking moans that just won’t stop dropping from your lips, “Wh-ngh! what?”

“She’s hngh- saying…” Yeah, it wasn’t the aphrodisiac - it definitely wasn’t the aphrodisiac that had him losing his fucking mind like this. It was you. “-that yer gonna g-give me another biiiig one very soon.”

Oh.

That wasn’t a promise - Nanami didn’t have to promise that. 

Because he was so intoxicated by that caramel scent sticking to you. Increasing twofold when with a sodden swat! down your bawling slit, you’re being stretched out with three of his digits until you were wide agape. Embarrassingly, so.

But not for Nanami - with a tantalized loll of his head into the silk-covered pillows, he’s gifting your sloppy entrance with a thick wad of saliva. 

As if the need was infectious - that orbed mass of spit flooding the inside of your cozy pussy just before his tongue is. 

“Ngh- s-so hot- ya like that new lipstain, my love?” He’s gulping down the excess slushes of your slick with every thrust past your glutinous walls, hard. Sloppy. Making such a mess on purpose, because for all how straightlaced Nanami was - all that shattered when it came to you. “-s-so sweet. Ah- h-hold my hand if s’too much, darling.”

“Feels so s-sensitive but…” Your jaw drops into a soft oh! when his rugged tongue drags over the globed bruises of his fingertips inside. Fingers scrambling for his free ones in midair, “-but I want more, Kentooo-”

With the leverage on your hand, he’s helping your burning thighs manage out a few more soppy strokes up and down. 

Your head is so dizzy by now, and you can barely see straight. Barely stumble to match every sopping smooch being punished upon your overwhelmed pussy. “Look so pretty like this- So tight- so cute. Probably c-couldn’t even ngh- fit my tip this way.”

“S-so mean.”

“I’d be nice if ya- hngh- spit in my mouth.”

Gasping, “Like this?”  But you didn’t even have to ask - you knew the answer in Nanami’s eyes, in the way he was smearing your pussy lips thoroughly ajar. In the way his dilated pupils run all the way to the back of his lips when you do. 

Your greedy gaze dazes back down to take in that heavenly sight of him - and you almost wish that you still had your camera for the article today with you. Because this was a sight you wanted to remember forever and ever. 

He’s so pretty with his golden locks splayed out like an angelic halo on the pillowcase below, clammy skin flushed rose red, swollen lips coral pink and gumming over your gluey ones like it was his favorite candy. Sucking. Even harder at the sloshes of translucent sap that laminated his face down to his chin, his neck, and all the way up to his cheekbones. 

Thighs stuttering and sticking with every grind on top of his face, it’s all you can do to manage out a pitchy, “Think I might just- K-Ken–”

He’s swirling up a lazy few fingertips to your needy clit and pinching. “-cum all over m’face again, my girl.”

You do. You do like you can’t stop.

And he’s supping up every draining burble of your flooding slick like it was an antidote to this little ah…indisposition. 

He says so, too - gurgling out wet little scientific explanations into your cunt that make your high peak with orgasms upon orgasms. Your second, third, and forth meshing into one to make you practically convulse. Nanami’s forced to dig his fingers into the plush of your thighs to stop you from escaping. 

And the question about whether this was part of his powers is halfway out of your mouth before Nanami’s leaving off a final swat! again your drooling pussy.

Chuckling - crazed - at the wispy sprays of juices that makes you gush out. 

“C’mon now, do those legs s-still work?” Nanami can’t hide the way that his deep voice wobbles into what almost sounds like a laugh. High. 

You’re being ragdolled with a squelching pop! off of his heated mouth and easily lifted to take his third favorite seat of yours - his lap. The second being his mouth, and the first- well, it was sure to be his thoroughly achy, angry cock right about now. 

“Ken-”

Nanami couldn’t bear to hear his name in your sweet, whimpering tone - he just couldn’t. Shutting you up with a slow slide of a kiss, “Yeahhh, darlin’...kiss me- more. Lick it allll up.”

“D-didn’t think you’d be so dirty…” you’re gasping, when his tongue pries your slagging maw open to once more spit. Sweet. Caramelized. 

“Oh, my pretty girl…” Two of his soppingly wet fingers smush your cheeks into a pathetic pout, “You haven’t seen dirty just yet. Now- spit back in m-my mouth, why don’tcha?”

You do - splattering a messy mark right at that adorable dimple of his with your messy aim. But he loves it - it was so sweet. Darting out a tongue to extract back all those sugary remnants before giving you one, final French kiss. 

Begging in that growling way of his, “Whaddya- whaddya want from me- I’ll give ya anything- anything-” Both arms looping your waist to plaster your sweaty front into his Herculean one, you have to hold back a keen at how your hardened nipples massage against his pecs. 

But, most of all, what you could feel - what you so badly wanted to feel - was that long, thick outline that jerked once you glide away sweaty strands of Nanami’s hair. Desperate. 

“Wan’ your cock, Kento.” You were way past feeling any sort of embarrassment now. Winding your arms around his sculpted shoulders, “N-need you ngh- inside me. Now.”

Of course, whatever you wanted - Nanami Kento would give.

He’s tugging down on the elastic waistband of those too-tight boxers, and your ears burn with the saturated schwf! of soaked fabric on skin. And that superhero suit…did not do him justice. 

Nanami’s slouching back on one arm when you’re oh-so-impatiently helping him kick off that useless piece of fabric. Head tilting with an uncharacteristically cocky smirk, “Like what you ah- see, hm?”

Shit, did you ever. 

Because it’s always the quiet ones - always. 

And with your seat position right at the thick, globular mushroom tip of Nanami’s cock, you knew that he’d be packing a staggering few inches. The mere outline of it puckering up against your pussyflaps enough to get you to gulp with nervousness.

But this? This had your jaw dropping. 

Fingers trailing down that lightly fleeced copper happy trail of his in utter disbelief. Because not only was Nanami Kento big - he was big. 

Swollen, glistening near-nine inches that jerked at the vulgar size difference of your digits struggling to wrap around his ridiculous girth. Nestled against bulky breeder balls rounded and weighing heavily underneath his strawberry pink length. He seemed even harder than usual - and it was all for you.

Fuck, that aphrodisiac. This was all for his gorgeous (future) wife.

Lazily drooling out a thick few wads of pearly pre that butters over your fingerpads, and just a simple touch - just one drag of his sweltering hot length makes Nanami whimper-

“O-oh- yeahhh- brace yerself, my girl.” He’s letting his head tumble back with a groan, heavy-handed arms guiding to the fleshy mound of your waist. “Gonna be ah- ruinin’ this pretty cunt-”

Nanami’s making you mewl with a welcoming little thwack! of his plumply bloated cockhead against your puffed-up pussy lips. Making your creaky bedframe sing out a few protests. Stirring out a staccato of one - two - three before finally - finally - slipping right between that pursed pout. 

CRASH!

An overwhelmed hand of his grips your headboard the moment he’s pushing and pushing - only to have the strong mahogany break underneath his superstrength. Damn, these powers.

“Awww, look how much yer drooling-” Nanami’s hiccuping with every tiny clench of your gummy walls around that cylindrical intrusion. A mean few fingertips so ferally smearing over the rings upon rings of saturated sap your cunt was slobbering all over his hefty base. Drawing a foggy line with them over your tummy, “G-gonna be riiiight here…h-heh.”

And maybe it was best that your dear Nanami was talking to, well, her. Because just the simple stretch that came with his fattened tip was enough to render you spellbound. 

“Nana-”

Smack! “Mhm? M’here, m’here, your dear hngh! Kento is here.”

“Kento- oh my goood-” Nonsensical syllables drooling from your lips and readily available for Nanami to kiss away. Your head slags drunkenly into the crook of his neck with each sinking inch, “S-s’so big, dunno if it’ll even ah- fit.”

“Shhh, s’gonna fit. Deep breaths…deep breaths.” 

You’re echoing, trying to time your stumbling gasps to match his. Backfiring when you only obtain lungfuls of his masculine scent, ‘D-deep breaths?“

“Mhmm- deep-” Oh, but even he wasn’t immune to the cloggy clamp of your pussy that had Nanami rutting. “Whoops.” One of his powerful forearms showcase in front of your narrowed vision, ogling all the pumped veins and rippling muscles. “C’mon- bite.”

You’re listening without a second thought, teeth sinking into the smooth skin - gurgling back tiny sobs at the sheer stretch. It felt like you were being split apart. 

He’s rolling his tips upwards, glissading you in a cozy massage against the ridges of his sweat-shielded abs. “M’gonna make it- duh. Look at me-” Dextrous fingers curling around your throat to make your woozy gaze focus on him, “Yeah- yeah. Look riiiight at me wh-when I ah- ”

And it takes only the tiniest probe of his thumpingly peaked veins bludgeoning against your tender walls, fuming divot bawling out a few geysers of creamy precum that fill you up scorchingly.

It takes only that for you to cum with an unstable shudder, moans piling on top of moans. You’re digging your fingerpads into Nanami’s damp scalp and pulling when you cum for the nth time on his cock.

You didn’t even know how you were cumming again - why, but you had a feeling that the thickening perfume of vanilla and candy in the room had something to do with it…

“C-cummin’ from jus’ the ah- tip? Seriously?” Nanami’s breathing, chest heaving with awe. Pushing and pushing away the heavy strands of his blond hair just to see you. And the urgent motions only make your pussy slide down even more, spearheading his lusciously right-leaning curve up into your gooey placeholders. “Really are jus- ah- made f’me- really ah! So perfect. So, so perfect.”

You’re watching his huffs turn heated, “Mmm- wanted you to f-fuck me like this ever since I was- ngh at the office.”

“Ohhh what a coincidence.” He grins - grins. “I’ve wan’ed to fuck ya like ah- this, since I first s-saw ya. Woulda fucked ya right then n’ there in your pretty lil’ cubicle if I ah- could.”

Crying out, “More- more more more-”

“Jus’ another inch-” Nose crinkling at the gripping resistance of your tight entrance, you were so slicked-up that you were practically flooding him with delirious puddles of resin. His fat thumb smears open your lips, “S-see? Juuuus a lil’ more-”

Oh…fuck.

He was finally- wait. No, this had to be a dream, right?

“Wait- shiiit- did you seriously-” He’s stuttering - stuttering exactly the way he used to back in the office. Back in his disguise. “Seriously…think ya deserve a little r-reward for that, right?”

Your reward just-so-happened to be another treacly wad of saliva being blasted onto your tongue. And by now you’re doing nothing but letting it easily be swallowed up with a cockdrunk smile. “God, m’feelin’ so hngh! full— c-can feel ya right- here-” 

Every jackhammer bullied up into your goopy orifice had Nanami wrecking you from the inside. His crowned, rotund tip prying open those stickily sweet walls of yours, barely even having to try to stir up a wet wipe against your poor cervix. 

“Feel me right-” One softened palm splays down across your tummy. Hard. Feeling for that tenderizing whack of his thickly tip into your most precious spots. “-here, huh? Yeahhh- f-feel that bump- touch it. Gonna c-carve out a fuckin’ ngh- cute lil’ bruise right here.” 

“P-please.”

And then, with a heady drawl of laughter, Nanami’s dredging out his tired tongue to lick over your rapid pulse like he wanted to bite. Palms still groping that orbed bulge, “Y-you wouldn’t believe what this- ngh- this is makin’ me think…”

Ever-so-curious, even when you’re being fucked stupid like this. “Wh-what?”

Earning you another few vicious ruts into your g-spot, a few thin lines of drool waterfall past his lips. Almost as if the very thought is enough to make him light-headed. 

“Jus’ thought a-about how yer always so ngh- pretty.” Muttering low and frantic with every bounce on his painfully hard cock, like he didn’t even want to admit this pussydrunk nonsense. But couldn’t stop. “So pretty when you were handlin’ Yuji today. Pretty when yer all ah- overstuffed with my cock b-but…you’d make an even prettier mama, though.”

Oh. 

A mama - Nanami Kento wanted to make you mama. 

And he was pressurizing you with pound after pound drilling into your melty depths until you were sure that you were molded around his shape. That mountainous curve of his crownhead striking every bullseyed sweet spot.

“Wan’ it-” Your legs wrangle around his slender waist, heels digging into the pretty dimples at the bottom of his spine. “Want you to f-fill me up so ngh- badly, Kento.”

“S-seriously?” Your words so distracting that it has his riotous cock drilling hard into that spot and skidding away in increasingly sappy thrashes against your battered and bruised cervix. Jaw clenching, “Really wan’ me fuckin’ this cute cunt hngh- p-pregnant, darling?”

Making you only nod and nod and nod-

“Yeahhh- anythin’ my girl ah- wants, huh?” He’s tittering at how adorably your hips were slurring out the tiniest of grinds. Up and down up and down - failing to meet his sloppy cadence, but angling your hips to use him. “N’ right now- all I wan’ is you all ah- round and fuuuuull.”

And it wasn’t just the aphrodisiac talking. 

You were beginning to overspill already, the flooded torrentials of his slushy precum seeping from the pouty ends of your slippery slit. You’re moping down his length with such humid tufts of juices, “Cum in me- please- need you to- now.”

“Mama didn’t teach ya ah- patience, my girl?” 

And despite his words, he’s falling back to lounge so sexily against the dampened sheets. Close - he could feel it in the snaking heat at the bottom of his stomach that he was so very close. 

Losing his faint grip on his power, Nanami’s clenching and balling his fists to stop from soiling permanent marks all over your body. Mind shattering. Your bedsprings bursting. Teeth gritting to stop him losing control-

Voice breaking into a few whimpers when he finally utters, “S-s’alright- greedy girl.” Before palming one hand onto the bloated budge of his length, the other swirling over your tearily overstimulated clit and tweaking. “-I can be th-the heh- strict parent.”

Oh, at this point, your orgasm is more a few heavenly tingles than anything else. 

Stimulating your most fragile of pummeled crevices, you’re feeling warm, thick goblets of Nanami’s cum swash in a sticky wave. And there’s so much of it - extra with his condition right now, spurting out ribbony ropes of sickly sweet cum with every squeeze of his bulky balls.

Those knotted wads of ivory are filling you up until your gummy walls were inflating, thunking out a little wet spot at your cervix. Something that he can’t help but keen over a few fat digits and push to make a splashing mess. “Gonna get ya pregnant- I will g-get ya pregnant.”

Nanami’s big, beefy arms are pinning you to the front of his chest like he never wanted to let go. Never would. 

Heaving to chase his breath - and, yet, still failing with every battering ram of his snaking cock. Fucking up the thickly viscous streams of cum up deeper and deeper-

“O-oh.” Nanami’s muttering, glassy wooden eyes straying somewhere beyond you and towards the end of the bed. The strangely…sagging bed. “We broke the- hah- we broke the bed.”

Shit. But you barely have the time to register his words before- THUD!

Your back is being brazenly splayed-out across the mahogany floors of your bedroom, Nanami’s arms underneath you shielding your body from every ounce of the stinging smack. Strong. Holding onto you tight. 

Still pumped inside, still carving out the free ounces with masses upon masses of his swollen cock. 

With your head drooping barely-lucidly to the side, you’re gasping at the blackened palm print that had burned itself onto the floor right beside your head.

The air around the two of you was candied, pheromones of candy and vanilla melding into what was probably your favorite scent now. Ahhhh…he didn’t even care if this was the cure anymore.

And despite being the strongest being in perhaps the entire universe, Nanami was melting into you. His abs adhesively plastered against your front, hips rolling in what can’t even be called grinds. Just simple, sappy gyrations of his still-twitchy cock. 

He’s whispering out a slurring mantra of words into your thoroughly wrenched open mouth - barely even able to talk coherently after that mind-shattering orgasm. “Lock- lock them- lock them please-”

“I-I caaaan’t.” You’re whimpering out, limp legs uselessly dangling like dead weight where Nanami was resting them on the cushiony home of his deltoids. 

But not to worry. Of course not to worry, your Nanami was here for you. 

Biceps bulging when one arm bends to pin your ankles behind his neck, he’s folding you down, down, down into such a filthy mating press. 

Moving you around as if it was nothing, as if you couldn’t hear your joint weakly popping. His healing powers being kicked involuntarily into overdrive…fuck.

Nanami can feel his cock jerk - barely softened for a few nanoseconds before thumping with every ounce of blood in his fully spent brain.

“Awww, t-too weak?” Planting a sodden peck against the corner of your ankles. And something in that tone told you that the two of you were far, far from over. That the slowly drunken fucking of Nanami’s hips was just the beginning. He’s squashing back a few remnant dredges of seed from just earlier, slipping out just enough to smear a messy white lipstick. “Well then…”

You’re jolting at the quick pap! pap! pap! of his ballooned tip popping out a few sloppily smushing strikes - before sinking deeply back in.

He’s fucking you again- and again and again and-

“Y-you know I h-haaaah- hate disrespectin’ my girl like- this-” He’s staring deeply into your eyes, gesturing languidly at the expanse of the floor. Ever-the-gentleman…usually. “-but if s’f-fer makin’ our daughter…then. Gotta make sure that I can be her Superdad.”

A/N. Hope you lovelies have the best week n’ happy new year in advance <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[eraserbread]

gojo and geto share you <3 #bonding

gojo rolls off of you, collapsing back into the downy mattress. his cock is painfully hard — leaking and sobbing for you. his chest is flushed ruby red, spanning all the way to the tips of his ears. he can't finish. or, he's not allowed to finish. his best friend needs his turn, getting antsy with his cock in his fist,

it's an unwritten, unsealed deal. you cum, they switch. like clockwork, the second gojo rolls off you, geto takes his place.

"you're a mess." geto comments, slipping inside your wrecked pussy, the remnants of your slick and their pearly cum bubbling up in crude, nasty visuals. he has to swallow down spit, already so overcome and overstimulated. still, he takes you the only way he knows how — the only way you three have ever accepted the others.

"p-please..." you babble, face pressed to the sheets, letting them soak up your words and tears as you present yourself face-down ass-up — your wrists bound behind your back with gojo's belt. they don't like you running away, and they surely hate it when you get overwhelmed and reach back to beg for mercy. "s-s—so senst-tive."

"if you can talk, you can take more," geto replies, massaging the heated skin on your ass, comforting you in small, dumb ways that you can't chew on until after the fact, when you come down from the fucked-out space they cradle you down into.

"we know you can do it, here, mm," gojo finds it in himself to sit up, bare chest rising and falling like he just got done running a marathon. he peeks up at his best friend with fucked-out eyes, giving him a look you can't catch.

they're speaking in full sentences and sentiments without even uttering a word, because geto's thrusts pick up — punishing and fast, like he's trying to finish the job before it's truly started.

"fuck, babe—

"oh, it's so good." geto comments, tossing his head back, eye twitching as he faces the ceiling, hips slamming into your ass as he pummels you back into delicious submission.

you moan, cry, and whine their name — starting with geto, morphing into something reminiscent of gojo, then circling right back to your pleas. it feels so good that you could die, like you've ingested a drug you can never live without, again.

their passion radiating off their souls — melting into one, then separating again the second you punch out a desperate cry, makes you crazy. you're not sure you could be with other men after them, your body opening and accepting them without even trying has changed every sense of your being. you're shattered — finally ruined in their perfect image.

you turn your head at the perfect time, sucking in huge lungfuls of air once geto's fucks ease up ever so slightly. he's distracted as gojo sits up on his knees, reaching down to trace over your tear-stained cheek.

with you in the middle — caught like an elated fish about to be eaten alive, geto reaches for his best friend, his huge paw wrapping around the back of his neck. you peek up, blinking stars from your eyes as geto grounds himself inside of you, eyes slipping shut as he tugs gojo into a bruising, passionate kiss.

you can't see it, but you can hear it — the clashing of teeth, the wetness of spit and lust. their tongues fight and disagree in each other's mouths, only stopping to agree on one thing, and it's you.

[gumsbear]

—𓏲𑁘 𝓶odulo!yuji gagging you on his cockིྀ

yuji, was sprawled out on your shared bed. his legs spread wide. along with you in between them, the room filled with loud obscene sounds, his cock hitting the back of your throat. with each buck of his hips.

"justtt like that, baby..." yuji, says between a strangled moan. your eyes are starting to water, taking practically all of his length down your throat, you swore his tip was kissing deep in the back of your throat. that's what it felt like at least, yuji was relentless. hips bucking desperately, chasing his release like oxygen.

you try to move your head. just the slightest, but that resorted into your head getting held down, by his palm. "no, you're going to listen to me, alright?" he pants out, yuji pushes his cock deeper into your mouth, your throat immediately constricts around his shaft, invitingly.

god, just the simple way the warmth of your mouth feels around his girth. drives him insane.

your face his buried, in between his thighs, tongue licking all over his girth, desperately taking his length into your throat, you feel his precum pool all over your tongue. a low muffled "mmph." was the only sound. that could escape your mouth, around his cock.

yuji's hand rises down, to land a slap across your cheek, causing you to moan around his girth. you felt your eyes roll into the back of your head, "fuck... baby, you like that?"

you almost felt shame, because of the tone of his voice. it was degrading, he sounded disgusted in a way, like he was in disbelief. but that's the thing that turned you on most. the most you could manage was a simple nod. you pull back from his cock, your lips covered in his precum, saliva dripping down onto your chin, "you're so pathetic." he brings a hand down to where he slapped your reddened cheek, caressing the soft skin slowly.

"you like being slapped? huh?" it wasn't a question, it was a statement. because yuji, already knew the answer, "i never told you to stop sucking." he pushes your head back down roughly. before you could reply, causing you to, instantly gag onto his length again.

your throat, greedily takes him in. your hands stroking at the base of what can't fit into your mouth, yuji's hand grips your head down, preventing you from pulling back. hips bucking roughly. into the wet warmth.

"i'm close... you'll swallow it all." he wasn't asking, yuji was telling you, you nod immediately. bobbing your head faster. not caring if you choke anymore. his hand roughly guides your head, tugging onto your hair, "fuck... fuck... fuck..." yuji's head tips back against the headboard. you can feel the throb in his cock, precum leaking onto you tongue. you greedily swallow preparing your throat, for his cum.

"agh... fuck, don't stop." yuji cums with a loud groan, holding your head in place, impaling your face deeper into his cock, warm spurts land onto your tongue. coating your tongue semi white, he lifts his head up for a moment, before his eyes land onto you.

"you okay pretty?" he pants out, coming down from his high slowly, you nod. before pulling back. saliva dripping down ont his shaft, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, "that... was a lot." he slaps your cheek again at that, "would you rather me spit on you?" yuji questioned slowly, "ugh. try it." a low chuckle escaped his lips, "next time. i don't want you passing out on me now, sweets."

"maybe, next time you should let me pass out on it."

authors note: ugh sorry if this is bad, i literally had to write this in a rush for myself no lie, i was desperate after seeing that animated.

[burgundysnow]

Being Jack abbots little young girlfriend and he just gives you his phone. Obviously because you know more about it!!!

He’s driving and his phone dings loudly over the speakers, he nods his head towards it to you in the passenger seat. “Can you see who that is for me?” 

When you grab it and open it up (because of course you memorized his password) you groan seeing the text. “Robby says he will be thirty minutes late.” 

Jack hums. He’s already switching on the blinker and making a turn. “Well in that case let’s go pick out some ice cream for my girl huh?” 

Also!!! Whenever you walk anyplace he just hands it to you. Like the responsibility of putting the phone in his pocket is too much so he whispers out an: “hold on to this for me honey.” 

Whenever he gets a call you pull it out and he answers. Always mumbling a “thank you baby.” Like you’re keeping him on track. 

And not to mention he comes to you on the weekends showing you his email and asking. “I’ve been trying for fifteen minutes. How do I find the receipt for the airbnb we booked.” 

“Jack you told me to book it.” 

“How do I find the receipt to the air bnb you booked.” 

n’Jack is so deathly scared of someone taking his phone and seeing the nudes you send him in little panties, he’s this close to putting all those photos on a USB. Until you show him the little private folder.

Old man with his phone is what I’m trying to get at.

[kentosbby]

Fantastic gimme 14 of em rn