℘. synopsis: satoru can’t help his sweet tooth, so when he steals your icing, you force him to make up for it. (w/c: 1k)
℘. warnings: subby satoru, smut (hand job, overstim, cum eating).
℘. a/n: enjoy lol
Squirming feverishly beneath your unrelenting touch, he wailed, hips stuttering into your tight-knit grip around his slippery girth as you tried to force out yet another strained orgasm from his shuddering body.
"—ohmygod, ngh! I'm so dizzy..." Several snowy strands of Satoru's hair had fallen over his squinted eyes, to which you smoothed back with a tender hand—a stark contrast to the cruel jerking of the other. "S-sweets, please." A vivid pink had bloomed across his cheeks, his face flushed and burning.
"Please what, hm?" Cooing sarcastically, you pulled your face into an expression of feigned sympathy.
"Please stop, it's too much!" The dire look of desperateness in his pleading eyes almost made you.
You didn't ignore the jolt of excitement that rushed to your abdomen, but you definitely reserved it for later. Satoru has always been supremely confident outside of intimacy, but his facade voluntarily vanishes whenever you so much as mention being dominant.
He believes it's hot, hot that you have the potential to render him subby and useless when you put your mind to it.
"But you ate all the icing. I couldn't even ask you to stop, because you'd eaten it all before I could!"
Satoru whined, grasping onto the cushions beside him tighter as sweat sheened his porcelain face.
About ten minutes ago, numerous cupcakes sat in ordered rows, fresh from the oven. They chilled quietly on the rack, releasing the last of their warmth in gentle breaths of steam that wafted the aroma of vanilla and zest around the kitchen.
Judging that they had cooled down to a suitable temperature, you reached for the bowl of lemon icing you'd whipped up, only to feel an empty space.
"What?" You questioned out loud, trying to wrack your brain for any clue of where you might've misplaced it.
Satoru waltzed in, passing the marbled island with a boyish grin too happy to be just contentment, and a freakishly good replica of your bowl of icing in his arms. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I swear I put the bowl right here..." Your words died somewhere along your throat as your stare flicked between the mixing bowl and his face. The white substance glazing his lips confirmed your suspicions. "Is that my icing?"
"I found it laying around, thought it was going in the bin." The man shrugged, dipping in a finger.
"I left the kitchen for thirty seconds." You glared at him, hard, and his frame shrunk a little. "That was the last of the icing sugar, Satoru."
"...meaning?"
"Meaning, I have to go out and buy more. Who knows, by the time I come back you might've eaten all the cupcakes too!"
"Sooorryyy." He quickly placed the bowl down on the countertop, before moving closer to you—arms outstretched as if he thought he might be able to hug himself out of the situation. "I don't mind going to the shops on my own."
You paused whilst a thought crossed your mind.
"It's Sunday. The shops are closed now." You let him embrace you in a one-sided hug, body stiff as you kept your arms by your side.
"Are we going to have to eat plain cupcakes?" Satoru sulked, burying his face into the curve of your neck like it wasn't a cause of his greediness. A subtle smirk curved your lip as a lightbulb flickered on above your head. "They aren’t plain and no, I have an idea.”
A strangled moan abruptly snapped you out of your thoughts.
You hadn't noticed that Satoru was overcoming his fourth high, until his eyes flitted shut—body violently twitching as he threw his head against the back of the sofa.
Quickly pulling your hand from his forehead, you reached behind you for one the unglazed cupcakes sat on the coffee table.
"—sweets, 'm coming!"
"I know 'Toru, make this a big one, yeah?"
You lowered the baked good near his cock, smiling when a short rope of cum feebly jumped from his swollen tip onto the golden dome of the cupcake. Satoru's muscles convulsed as aftershocks lurched through his nerves, pulling his form taut in multiple directions.
"Well, wasn't that a little disappointing." You sighed, shaking your head as you released your grip on his pulsing length letting it slap heavily against his abdomen. In reality, it wasn’t. It was actually impressive that something would still come out.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry." The man panted, bringing an arm over his eyes. He was hoping that you'd give him a break at some point. Hopefully now.
Ignoring him, you peeled back a part of the case before bringing it up to your mouth. Ever since you started your tortuous experiment, you'd been dying to try one. As you bit down, a tangy vanilla burst your tastebuds. Satoru's cum is and has always been sweet, maybe a bit zesty too, so you knew it wouldn't taste unappealing. If anything, it tasted like the tart, lemony cupcakes you'd been trying to make.
"Mmm, these are good." You muttered, taking another bite as the man pulled his arm off his face to look at you doubtfully.
"Are you being serious?"
Nodding your head, you watched him, eyes absorbing his current fucked-out state. "But, you're not allowed one yet. Not until I say so." With a pout, he lulled his head to the side—exhausted face hidden by messy white locks.
You tossed the wrapper onto the coffee table, counting how many more cupcakes there were left under your breath.
"So, can we—agh!" Satoru cut himself off with a choked wail as he felt your hand wrap around his semi-hardened cock once more. "H-hold on, no break?!"
"Oh come on 'Toru, I made a lot of icing.” You rolled your eyes, observing how his dick suddenly sprang back to life in your palm with a small smile. Even on the verge of passing out, he couldn’t help the way his body betrayed him. “How many cupcakes do you think are left?”
content: drabble, mentions of alcohol, sukuna’s an ass guy (rip readers ass), threats
Being with Sukuna isn’t for the weak. He’s not the most expressive person when it comes to his feelings, not even after an entire year of being in a relationship. He doesn’t do PDA, won’t partake in discussions when his friends start talking about the women they’re seeing, has a straight face the entire time whenever he does briefly talk about you.
But, everybody knows he loves you. Yourself included.
It’s in the way he keeps an eye on you in group settings, the way he’ll randomly come up to you with a new drink after noticing you’ve already finished the one you’ve been holding in your hand. Sukuna will be on his best behavior when you’re around, but will also lose his fucking mind if you are mildly inconvenienced.
“She asked for extra barbecue sauce 13 minutes ago,” he once snapped at a waiter. “Where the FUCK is it?” That was fucking embarrassing. In his defense, he refuses to start eating without you and you were waiting until they came back with it to touch your food.
At the end of the day, he simply wouldn’t have stayed this long if he didn’t hold any deeper feelings. They are there! He just has them hidden behind his god awful temper.
It’s not until he finds himself a little too drunk at a small party, when he randomly decides to be open and honest about how much he enjoys touching you.
And it starts with the resounding smack! of his palm as he cracked it against your ass cheek, followed by the yelp it pulled out of you, because it was the last thing you expected.
It reaches many people's ears, and when they turn to look towards the dining room table, they find you glaring at Sukuna. He looked fucking love struck with that glossy, faded look in his eyes as he sat back in his seat, rubbing the spot he decided to target while you were in the middle of looking for the lipgloss in your purse.
“That fucking hurt!” you hiss at him, swatting his hand away, only for it to go right back. “What is wrong with you?!”
“Looks fuckin’ nice in these shorts,” he says absentmindedly, smiling as he gave your ass a firm squeeze.
“Stop that,” you swat his hand away again.
“Quit acting like that hurt,” he scolds you, face softening as his hand goes back, again. “Love this ass—m’gonna fuck it one of these days.”
“Kuna!” you gasp, stunned by his sudden boldness when he’s nothing but reserved with you in public. “No you’re not—“
“Kiss me,” he cuts you off, his big hands now pulling you in by the waist.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No?!” You start to shove him away, which does nothing but make him laugh, especially when you look back at your friends who find themselves more than entertained by seeing this side of your relationship.
“The fuck are you looking at Shoko for? She’s not gonna save you from me—isn’t that right Shoko?” he raises his tone as he asks.
“Yeah, I’d rather not.”
“That’s what I thought.” He grins as he turns his attention back to you. “You see that, baby? She doesn’t give a fuck about you. Nobody does. Just me.”
And you laugh, because this is how he always teases you when you’re alone. “You sure it’s just not because everyone’s scared of you?”
“Good. You should be scared of me too, sweetheart,” he responds, as if it drives his point home. “Now give me my fuckin’ kiss.”
There’s a low groan that rumbles through his chest when you finally do kiss him, as if he’d been waiting for one the whole night. He grabs your jaw, slips his tongue into your mouth, drags it on for longer than it should’ve been.
“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he murmurs.
“Get a room, freaks,” Gojo yells out from the kitchen.
“Fuck off,” Sukuna easily cuts himself. “We’re going home so I can fu—”
“We never agreed to that?!”
notes: idek i haven’t written for sukuna in months and immediately wrote this when the idea popped up
suguru geto takes care of his sweet girl when she's sick :(
the rain is absolute misery against the bedroom window, that matches exactly how your head feels. your throat is scratchy, your limbs feel like lead, and the fever has left you trapped in that horrible, shivering limbo where you’re simultaneously too hot and too cold. you’ve buried yourself under three different blankets, trying to shrink away from your misery.
you hear the front door click open and closed, followed by the soft, familiar thud of suguru’s boots being kicked off in the entryway. usually, he’d call out a quiet greeting, but the house stays entirely silent. he already knows you're sick; you had texted him a weak, barely coherent message hours ago before passing out.
the bedroom door creaks open, letting in a sliver of warm hallway light. suguru stands in the doorway, already wearing his comfortable sweatpants and a soft, worn-out black t-shirt. his long dark hair is pulled up into a loose, messy ponytail with a few stray strands framing his face. his expression instantly softens the second his eyes land on the pathetic bundle of blankets on the bed.
"oh, my poor girl," he murmurs, his voice dropping into that incredibly low, honey-sweet tone he only uses when it’s just the two of you.
he doesn't immediately climb into bed. instead, he pads softly over to the side of the mattress, kneeling down so he’s at eye level with you. he reaches out a hand, his long, elegant fingers brushing a few damp strands of hair away from your forehead. his palm is cool against your burning skin, and you instinctively lean into his touch, letting out a weak & pathetic sigh.
"you're burning up a bit, sweetheart," he says gently, his thumb tracing a comforting line over your cheekbone. "have you taken anything yet?"
you shake your head under the blanket, blinking heavily up at him.
"alright. stay right here. i'll be right back, okay?"
he disappears back down the hallway, and you can hear the distant, comforting sounds of him moving around the kitchen. the soft clink of a ceramic mug, the low rumble of the electric kettle, and the opening of the medicine cabinet. even though you feel terrible, the sheer routine of him taking care of you makes you feel a hundred times better.
when suguru returns, he’s carrying a small tray. on it is a glass of ice water, a steaming mug of honey-lemon tea, and two small pills. he sets it down on the nightstand and sits on the edge of the mattress, the bed dipping under his weight.
"come here, let me help you up," he whispers. his large hands slide under your armpits, effortlessly lifting you up against the headboard so you can sit upright. you complain weakly about the cold air hitting your shoulders, but he just chuckles softly, pulling one of the thickest blankets up around your chin like a cocoon.
he holds the glass of water to your lips, letting you take a few small sips before handing you the medicine. once you’ve swallowed it, he guides the warm mug of tea into your hands, keeping his own hands wrapped around yours to keep them steady as you drink. the warm liquid instantly soothes the scratchiness in your throat.
"good job," he murmurs, taking the empty mug and setting it aside. "c'mere, sweet girl."
finally, suguru lifts the heavy blankets and slides onto the bed right beside you. he pulls you straight against his side, tucking your head securely into the dip where his neck meets his shoulder. one of his long arms wraps around your waist, pulling you so close that you can hear the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart. his other hand goes straight to your head, his long fingers gently massaging your scalp in slow, repetitive motions that instantly start to dull the pounding headache behind your eyes.
"close your eyes," he whispers against your hair.
you twist your fingers into the fabric of his shirt, shivering slightly as another wave of fever-chills hits you. suguru notices immediately. he shifts, pulling the blankets all the way up over both of your shoulders and pressing his entire, warm body against your back to act as a human radiator.
"don't come any closer," you mumble, your voice thick and stuffed up as you try to pull the blanket higher over your face. "you're going to get sick if you kiss me."
suguru just lets out a soft, amused huff, completely ignoring your warning as he sits down on the edge of the bed. he reaches out, gently tugging the edge of the blanket down just enough to reveal your eyes and your flushed, pink nose.
"i don't care," he murmurs softly, a tender smile playing on his lips.
before you can protest again, he leans down and presses a warm, lingering kiss right to the center of your forehead, then another one to the tip of your nose. he lingers there for a second, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear from your watery eyes.
"if i get sick, then we can just stay in bed and look after each other," he whispers, sliding under the covers to pull you close against his chest. "now stop worrying and close your eyes, baby."
with suguru holding you like you're the most precious, fragile thing in the world, the misery of being sick starts to fade into the background. surrounded by his scent, his warmth, and the steady rhythm of his breathing, your eyelids grow impossibly heavy, and you finally drift off into a deep, healing sleep.
sukuna sprawled out on your shared bed, two arms above his head, one across his stomach, and another lied idly on your thigh. his hair was messy, strands all over the place, and a few somehow shaped into bangs over his forehead. his stomach-mouth was open, softly snoring while showing off his large fangs.
and although he looked so comfortable, and the moonlight softly shone through the curtains of your quarters, you took a minute to leave. softly, you moved his large hand off your thigh, placing it close to where you slept instead.
after you’ve quietly retreated to grab a glass of water from the kitchen, sukuna almost immediately woke up from the loss of your touch.
he softly grumbled when he didn’t feel your body warmth, then he grabbed at what he wanted to be you, but instead met with sheets.
a huff escaped him, and he turned onto his side with a groan, half sitting up and using a hand to prop himself up.
“wife..” he called out, mumbling with his natural rough voice, a frown appearing on his face.
and almost as if you could sense how he already missed you dearly, not knowing how long you’d been gone, you slowly creaked the door open, walking in with a glass of water. as you sat it on the nightstand, your heart ached as sukuna blearily stared up at you with half-lidded eyes. he slowly blinked up at you like a cat, and his hair stuck up in many different directions.
some drool escaped the corner of his mouth, and you smiled. he probably didn’t even notice.
finally, you climbed into bed again, softly mumbling, “i know, i’m here,” with a smile as he already began reaching towards you to pull you closer.
your hand found his chest, and you rubbed comforting circles on his tattoos as you left a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. before you could pull away, he softly nudged your head with his, letting out a soft sigh as his hand found your back.
but you reached up, hand finding his hair as you play with it. he pushed his head into your hand, asking for more touch.
“you have bed head hair,” you whispered as his eyes nearly closed.
but he murmured, shaking his head with a pout, “i do not,” he let out a dramatic huff, glaring at you with all four eyes.
“whatever you say, honey,” you mumbled as you looked down at him, hand still running through his hair.
and within seconds, he’s asleep as quickly as he woke up. this time, he’s lulled to sleep by your touch. he’s right where he wants to be, falling asleep every night in the arms of his wife.
ib this art by sukunaglazer23 on twt he’s so adorable oml
olderbf!toji takes care of you when you’re drunk ♡︎
the front door clicks open, the sound of clumsy footsteps making your older boyfriend’s ears prick up like a dog. he sits lazily on the couch, scar twitching as he takes in the sight of your drunken form.
“what time d’ya call this, doll? told you t’ be home by two," toji grumbles. he wasn’t angry, just worried — the thought of something bad happening to his sweet girl felt like a knife twisting in his heart.
"you waited up?" you say, padding over to him, almost tripping over your own feet before sitting on his lap comfortably. your cheeks were flushed, eyes half lidded from the excessive amount of alcohol you’d consumed.
two large hands find your waist, holding you steady as you bury your face into his neck. “course i waited. always do. someone’s gotta keep ya’ pretty ass in line."
“m’sorry i was late,” you slur, kissing toji’s cheek, salt and pepper stubble bushing your skin. the thin straps of your dress fall from your shoulders as you cling to him like a koala, the potent scent of tequila radiating from you.
he hums lowly, kissing the top of your head before standing up abruptly, carrying you over to the bathroom like you weigh nothing. "cmon, kid."
you giggle drunkenly as he carries you, hiccuping quietly as toji sets you down on the surface next to the bathroom sink. “arms up, baby," he says, peeling your dress off you, forbidding his eyes from wandering.
he takes off your dress, then your heels, chucking them carelessly onto the bathroom floor. you lean against the mirror, eyes closed, mind foggy from a mix of alcohol and fatigue.
"m’cold," you mumble, sat there completely bare before him without a care in the world. "yeah, yeah, i know. gimme a second," toji responds, stripping off his shirt and helping you into it instead.
toji was somewhat glad your eyes were shut so you couldn’t see the faint smile on his face. he always found it so damn adorable how his shirts fit you like a loose dress, stopping a couple inches above your knees.
he places two hands on your thighs, pushing his shirt up a little, then hooks his fingers under the sides of your panties. "want these off?" he asks, for once, completely innocently — your comfort being his only thought.
you nod feebly, lifting your hips just enough for him to take slide them off you.
then, he grabs a nearby glass, filling it with cold water and bringing it to your lips. "drink."
with a weak whine, you oblige, gulping down a few sips of water before pulling away, ready to have your secretly soft, big brute of of boyfriend carry you to bed.
“atta girl," he praises, setting the glass aside, then taking you back into his arms, carrying you bridal style to your shared bedroom.
you melt against his chest, body limp in his arms. when toji reaches the bedroom, he lays you down on your side, slipping in beside beside you. he hauls your back against his chest, softly, draping an arm around your waist.
“get some sleep, princess," he says, kissing the side of your cheek.
"mm, loveyou," you murmur, drifting to sleep, safe and spent in toji’s strong arms.
"love you," he responds, still wide awake and watching over you, listening to the steady beat of your heart.
A/N; HE HOLDS ME IN HIS BIG ARMS DRUNK AND I AM SEEING STARS THIS IS ALL I THINK OF !!!!
⋆˚꩜｡ bf!geto x reader ⋮ SFW, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, angst & fluff, universe not specified, sugu being the sweetest and most comforting boyfriend in the whole world, reader is going through it
Had your visibly red-ringed eyes not been overcome by the glossy gossamer of tears, you would have thought that Suguru had just walked in on you kicking a dog with how swiftly his peaceful countenance is swallowed by one of pained concern upon finding you on the verge of a full-scale emotional collapse in the living room.
(The kicked dog being Suguru, because your pain is forever his to bear, too, no matter how fiercely you fight to keep it to yourself and away from his already burden-laden shoulders.)
You look up from your tear-dotted hands to see Suguru standing in the entryway, palm hanging frozen on the door handle. His luscious hair is done in two, half of its bulk twisted up in a bun, the rest of it running a midnight river down his spine, an unzipped black jacket fitted over his deep green turtleneck.
He looks like he could be chosen for the role of a Bridgerton prince if a casting director happened to walk past the still-open door right this instant. Meanwhile, you’re a miserable, sad sack of blubbering shit on the couch.
Great. Now you just feel worse.
“Hey. Welcome home,” you try for casual levity, but the weak little shame-laced laugh you let loose is ruthlessly hollowed by the wet sob that cleaves your giggle. Much to your dismay, a snot bubble blows out of your nose alongside it, and you drag your forearm beneath your nostrils to clear it. You pray that your whole body liquefies into the couch and that you can disappear from this earth.
“What's the matter, angel? You can tell me," Suguru says earnestly, pitching his voice all sweet and soft and achey, his last few words melting into a lilting whiny coo of sorts.
Of course, he gracefully fox-walks around your deflection— his overly caring self makes you all fuzzy, even if it can be somewhat annoying when he doesn’t have mercy on you and blocks you from crawling away with your tail tucked between your legs. You wouldn't be surprised if Suguru has a map of your brain and keeps it lovingly folded in his pocket for his fingers to reexplore when your terrain begins to wash away beneath the sorrowful flood of your emotions.
"Long day," you sniffle, pawing at your soaked-bare face with shaky fingers. "Long few weeks, honestly. Everything's piling up, and I'm…" your voice cracks, and so does the dam holding back the second flood, too. "I'm sick of it. B-being overwhelmed. And feeling like shit."
You sob, making Suguru look more crestfallen by the second. "Oh, baby," he croons sympathetically as he finally shuts the door behind him and twists the lock. "I noticed that you'd been off lately and I'm sorry that I— ah, forget it. All I can do now is my best to help you. What can I do for you? What do you need?" He asks, willing to forgo it all for your sake.
Not wanting to throw yourself into a futile struggle past the lump in your throat, you just gesture for him to come near. That is all you have to do to convey what— no, who you need.
Through the thick onset of tears weeping past your lashes, you watch as he shakes off the day and moves towards you. His jacket gets carelessly whisked over the back of the couch, his keys clatter to the tabletop standing a few feet away from your knees. Suguru eases into the couch cushion next to you, claiming his rightful spot.
By the time he gets comfortable enough to receive you in all your broken-down glory— one elegant leg folding beneath him while his free foot, warmed by a sunflower-patterned sock, braces against the floor as he turns to face you— you’re weeping much more adamantly than you had been before. So much so that each mangled whine leaves your throat raw on the way out.
Which is wonderful and fantastic. And extra humiliating.
It’s not that the sight of Suguru incites misery— far from it, for he much rather inspires love and joy within you, really— but the simple fact that so much care lives in his soulfully sweet almond-shaped eyes that search yours is like a mug of hot chocolate when you need it most, dousing the cold loneliness from your body. It’s as if if Suguru studies you hard enough, long enough, he'll somehow find the exact location where your pain lives and tear it out with his bare hands.
Even if it destroys him in the process— especially if it destroys him in the process.
(And suddenly you're a few years younger again, watching an equally as young Suguru with somewhat shorter black hair offer you half of his sandwich the second you told him you hadn't eaten much that day. Watching him walk you home in the rain. Watching the two of you trying to navigate the terrifying realization that loving each other felt as natural as breathing yet still called for work, for time, for effort, for making the choice to love each other again and again. Watching him sacrifice pieces of himself for the people he loves without ever keeping score.
Years later, not much has changed.)
You barely startle when Suguru opens the space between you first. The familiar weight of his palm cups your cheek as he tucks the sleeve of his turtleneck over his thumb to use as tissue, kindly wiping your tears before they can dry and crack your skin.
His hand is so, so warm. That's the first thing your overwhelmed brain manages to register through the headache-inducing static. The second is the coaxing "Hey," that he murmurs to capture your attention. You barely want to look at him and allow him to see your pain that has transcended to the physical, but you do, despondently peering up from beneath your dribbling lashes.
Suguru's other hand comes up to cradle the opposite side of your face, trapping you not physically but emotionally— pinning you beneath the full force of Geto Suguru's affections, a weighted blanket over your shoulders when you need it most. His expression warps around the edges with the sadness that comes with witnessing the one you love most suffer, but his face quickly leaves your sight once he leans in and holds a lingering kiss to your forehead.
"Come here, angel." The invitation is barely crooned in that soft-spoken tone he takes on when coaxing stray cats from their hidey-holes before he's already guiding you into him, pulling you across the couch and sideways onto his lap.
A second throatier sob leaves you in the same instant that you collapse into him with all the graceless desperation of a building finally giving up after suffering months of structural damage. You root for an anchor until you finally sandwich your face into his chest and fist his sleeves in a shaky grip, finding comfort in the darkness of his turtleneck that blankets you. His clothing carries faintly of lavender-scented laundry detergent, but what greets your nose most ardently is the scent of Suguru himself— sandalwood, jasmine, bergamot, home.
Tucked safely beneath his chin, you feel as though you've occupied this exact spot for so many years that your bodies have long since memorized the route to take you and Suguru here.
One large hand finds its home between your shoulder blades, the other delicately caressing the back of your head. The shudder that zips through you earns you a soothing carding of fingers through your hair that damn near melts you through the floor, the strands anxiety-tangled from how frantically you'd been tugging it at it before his arrival.
"That's it," Suguru whispers his sympathetic encouragement against the top of your head, "just let it out. I have you."
An immeasurable fondness bursts from the well in your chest and rushes like a river to fill every crevice of your body; your face, hands, stomach, and toes all warmly bubble over with it. Much like the deluge of fresh tears that follow, freely unleashed in the wake of his words.
You don’t know how long you end up bawling your eyes out for. You could have unknowingly sat there blubbering between strangled gasps and whimpers of pure defeat for literal hours, totally blind to the passage of time.
But what you do know is that Suguru keeps you flush to him through it all. Gently rocking you both back and forth, humming heartening yet undeniably heartbroken notes whenever your sniffles cease enough to hear him, petting over you with gentle hands to inspire comfort back into your being.
Suguru doesn't once rush you through the process. He just stays; his body a shelter not built from wood and stone but patience and devotion. Every slow stroke through your hair, untangling knots as he goes, works to smooth the sharpest edges off of your despair.
(He knows he cannot fix it all for you, much to the detriment of his heart. But he'll stand beneath the crushing weight with you anyway, hands braced against the sky itself if that's what it takes.)
Eventually, your cries weaken to raspy, squeaky little hiccups. The occassional tremor that rips clean through you whenever a fresh wave of overwhelm threatens to drag you beneath murky lonely waters again is tempered by Suguru's arms gently squeezing around you each time he notices you're seconds away from devolving back into your fit. Your puffy eyes burn something fierce from accidentally rubbing them raw against Suguru's turtleneck. (You pray it isn't drenched in snot.)
You feel as dehydrated as a traveler adrift in a baking desert when you resurface from his chest for some air, blinking heavy-lidded eyes against the warm light of the room. Suguru trickles his fingers down the knobs of your spine in a soothing swipe before gently pinching your chin between thumb and forefinger so he can pat your face dry once more. You give him a weak little smile to show you're grateful.
"There you are," he sweetly coos, brown eyes crinkling at the corners like sun rays spilling across the deepening horizon. "My pretty angel who smiles even when they're sad. I missed them."
The fact that Suguru looks relieved by something as inconsequential as the little upturn of your lips nearly triggers round three of your breakdown— with tears of joy this time rather than ones of despair.
“I hate my life,” you suddenly croak after a much-needed long, slow breath.
He gives an inquisitive blink, fox-like even in his indulgence. "Do you?"
You shake your head. "No, but saying it made me feel better.”
“Hardly,” Suguru replies somewhat dryly as though he read your mind to confirm that it didn’t work. He hugs you impossibly closer, his denim-clad thighs bunching beneath you as he shifts in place. "Do you feel a bit better now that you've cried it out?"
You lamely shrug before tucking your arms around his shoulders and resting your head back on his chest. You feel the vibration of his voice more than hear it, "I know it doesn't feel like it, but things'll get easier eventually. Okay? We'll figure it out together. Not right this second, because I can tell you're not in the mood, so I think the best plan for now is for me to make some dinner and get some food and water in you. You can either stay on the couch and I'll come get you when I'm done, or you can come sit at the counter with me and watch me cook. I can draw you a bath afterwards too, if you'd like. Whatever you want, baby."
Suguru knows you the way sailors know the sea and astronomers know the stars. So in tune with you as he is, he's aware that this isn't the time to try and work out solutions to your issues. His advice— even though it always comes from a place of drilled-in practicality and well-meaning intentions— can feel too much like another task to tackle when what you need right now is the simple comfort of Suguru himself.
"I'll join you in the kitchen. I don't wanna be alone right now," you near-shyly admit around the lump in your throat. "Can we just… stay here for a little longer, though?"
He turns to kiss the inside of your arm where it begins its loop around to the back of his neck, cheek nuzzling into your bicep as an aside— unable to help himself whenever you're in reach. Suguru looks for all the world like a man who has found his favorite place to be as he agrees, "Yeah, we can. Works for me. You just tell me when you're ready. I love you, sweetheart."
Ugh. He's really making it hard to stay dry-eyed. The most obvious sentiments don’t need to be said when you feel his boundless affection permeating his every action— even when he’s dead asleep because he must have you in his arms to doze through the night without once rising— but over the years, Suguru’s made it clear that they beg to be said anyways. That he will never not want to say I love you whenever he gets the chance to.
"I know," you sniffle.
Suguru cocks his head at you. "No," he says gently, "I don't think you do." Then, curling his lips into an impish pout, he flutters fine black lashes at you. "You didn't even say you love me back. I feel neglected… no, despised. You must think terribly of me."
A watery giggle wrests its way from your chest. "And you say I'm the dramatic needy one… I love you too, Suguru."
As his fingers resume lazily combing through your hair while you melt bonelessly into his summery warmth, you realize that this is enough. For tonight, you’ll forget the world and its worries and you'll allow Suguru to carry you off in parody of a knightly prince and his star-crossed beloved.
Judging by the way he peppers a few kisses across your forehead before beginning to murmur about anything and everything to try and lift your spirits, you believe Suguru might need this just as much as you do.
(I wish the world was kinder to you, Suguru thinks once you’re sufficiently softened and settled in his blanketing embrace like a sleepy kitten, utterly worn down by the gale winds of your emotions, and that you were kinder to yourself. I wish your past had been easier, too. But I hope I can make your future something to look forward to— your future where I will always, always take care of you.)
a/n: oh my baby sugu 😢🤕 so selfless so sweet so adoring… i just love writing hurt/comfort with suguru specifically more than words can describe, it’s very cathartic and fun to do :,) <3
i typically focus on longer oneshots, so following a requested prompt was a nice change of pace And this was SUCH a fun little writing exercise/warm-up for me!! hopefully i can do more drabbles like this when i have the time
he has had many experiences since he turned 18 and he’s now in his late twenties. safe to say he knew every kink, tried all types of weird shit and was a masterful makeout partner. (if he said so himself!)
but here you are perched up nicely, straddling his lap, your hands pulling desperately at the little hairs that gained length from his overgrown undercut.
his large hands palming your ass as you grinded down on him slowly, your mouth moving in sync with his, your faces twisting constantly and your tongue fighting for dominance so hard you smeared a bit of drool on the side of his mouth.
well not like he cared.
he was used to this, used to your rough bites, soft whimpers and tough grip as his mouth worked on you.
so when you trailed off from his lips, your light kisses going down his jaw, turning to bites in between on his neck. he didn’t think much of it, baring the long column to you with a huff like feeding a vampire its next meal.
his hands never stopping their flexing on your thighs, your ass anywhere he could reach as you huffed and sucked on him possessively.
his cock strained hard against his shorts, waiting to get ruined as he nudged you over and over again, getting lost on the sauce even didn’t notice that your kisses started trailing back up again.
until he felt it.
the soft tug of your teeth at the bottom of his earlobe before you pressed a chaste kiss on the spot. mouthing up the column of his now reddening ear, pulling his helix before you pulled back just enough to trace the outside of his ear with your tongue.
you followed the shape, your teeth coming out and grazing on his shell just as you licked the slight dip at the inside feeling him clutch at your body and fucking shiver.
he knew he was done for when he felt your hands repeatedly push his face away as it drifted towards your own and he couldn’t slow down his heaving chest or the soft pants that escaped.
now here he was ear wet, hot and pulsing, it didn’t make it much better he could hear your soft pleasurable sighs before your hands came up and you whimpered almost pathetically in between your mouthing as you left one last lick on his ear before you moved back to his jaw, “mm…satoru.”
he couldn’t even tell you what happened next, your mouth finding his own as he let out the most desperate moan he’s ever heard from himself before you pulled away from him with a pop.
“you just came untouched?”
after that fucking kiss of course he did.
yorikae
** check if their ears are clean b4 doing this btw
“Say my name again baby, I love when you sound pathetic.”
♥ pairing: Toji Fushiguro x female reader
♥ summary: “Toji chokes you with his bicep and fingers you in front of the mirror”
♥ warnings: smuty 18+ blurb zero plot, fingering, praise kink, use of daddy, sucking cum fingers, choking, slight begging, names - baby, pretty girl, good girl
♥ wc: 695
♥ the bookshelf
The best thing you and Toji ever did was purchase a full length mirror for the corner of your room. Not only was it great for checking your outfit and doing your make up in but it served a purpose of sensual need, being able to watch him worship your body.
“Hear that baby? Your greedy little cunt sucking my fingers back inside you.”
Your eyes are fixated on his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, your wetness glistening in the low light, the squelching sounds filling the room.
“Look at my pretty girl” He whispers against your hair, placing a soft kiss on your temple.
Your eyes flick to him in the mirror taking in your position. Your back pressed against his chest, his left hand on your right shoulder, bicep against your neck, your legs spread open over his thighs, his fingers buried deep inside you.
You smirk at him in the reflection causing a low rumble to vibrate through his chest, his hard cock presses against your ass.
He tightens his hold, choking you with his bicep as your eyes flutter closed a moan falling from your lips.
“Daddy” You breathe, lifting your hips to meet the rhythm of his fingers.
Toji growls against your ear, adding his thumb to rub your clit, your back arching off his chest, throat pressing into his bicep more, your eyes still closed.
“Yeah? You like watching daddy play with your pretty pussy?”
“Open your eyes baby”
You flutter your eyes open, gasping lightly as he curls his fingers against your sweet spot.
“Such a good girl.”
Toji ruts up against your ass, kissing down your neck, licking, biting and sucking the skin to leave his mark on you. His fingers keep perfect rhythm inside you, his thumb pressing against your clit in slow agonising circles.
“So good daddy.”
Moans fall from your lips like water, your eyes fixated on him playing with your body, the way you fit perfectly against him.
Toji locks eyes with you in the mirror, a smirk on his lips as he bites your shoulder.
“I can feel you tightening baby, do you want to cum?”
His breath is warm against your ear, his voice husky and deep.
“Please” The plea comes out as a whimper, rocking your hips up to try and get him deeper.
“Use your words babygirl, tell me what you want.”
“I need to cum” you pout
“Aw, do you think you deserve to cum?” Toji taunts, his bicep tightening around your neck causing your breath to hitch.
“Toji”
He smirks against your ear, placing a kiss to your cheek, watching your body in the mirror.
“Say my name again baby, I love when you sound pathetic.” He murmurs against your ear, his warm breath causing goosebumps to prick at your skin.
“Toji, please” You cry out, your legs shaking right as he curls his fingers against your sweet spot, the circles on your clit speeding up urging your body to let go.
Your mouth falls open, eyes squeezing shut as you cum. Your pussy clenching down on his fingers as he keeps his pace of pumping them in and out of you. Your body tenses, legs quivering over his thighs, his name pulled from your lungs in a scream.
“Open baby”
Your eyes fly open, watching in the reflection as he pulls his fingers from your tight cunt, rubbing over your sensitive clit causing your body to twitch.
“Mouth” Toji says, your mouth falling open allowing for him to slide his glistening fingers past your lips, swiping them across your tongue.
“See how sweet my girl is?”
You moan around his fingers, sucking them clean, tasting yourself. Toji chuckles deeply watching you as he pulls his hand away from your lips, cupping your face and pulling you into a messy kiss. You moan as he sucks your tongue, tasting you.
“Such a good girl for me baby.” Toji smirks, smacking your pussy softly but enough to send a jolt through you, a gasp falling from your lips.
“Lets get you cleaned up” Toji smirks, scooping you into his arms and walking into the bathroom.
Gojo realizes pretty quickly that your mind never actually rests. Even during calm moments, you’re overthinking, your tone, your wording, whether people secretly dislike you, whether you’re “too much.” He starts noticing the tiny signs before you even say anything.
At first, his teasing accidentally overwhelms you sometimes. Gojo jokes constantly by nature, and there are moments where you genuinely can’t tell if he’s serious. The second he realizes that certain jokes make you spiral, though, he adjusts immediately. Not because he stops being playful, he just becomes gentler with you.
He’s surprisingly grounding during panic attacks. Gojo isn’t the best at formal comfort speeches, but he’s very good at presence. Sitting beside you. Talking softly. Letting you hold onto his sleeve or hand. Guiding your breathing without making you feel embarrassed.
“C’mon, sweetheart. Stay here with me.”
He absolutely notices physical anxiety habits, picking at your nails, bouncing your leg, checking your phone repeatedly, apologizing constantly, going quiet in crowded spaces. Sometimes he’ll wordlessly hook your fingers with his just to stop you from spiraling.
Gojo is extremely protective in social situations once he realizes how easily people drain you. If he notices you getting overwhelmed, he’ll casually pull attention away from you without making it obvious.
“Anyway, enough about them. Let’s talk about how amazing I am.”
He reassures you in ways that feel casual instead of intense. If you nervously ask.
“Are you mad at me?”
He’ll blink at you like you just asked something ridiculous.
“Baby, I asked if you wanted fries. Where did you even get that from?”
He becomes very intentional about communication. Because Gojo disappears on missions often, he learns quickly that silence can make your anxiety spiral. So he sends quick updates whenever he can:
“mission done”
“still alive”
“buying snacks”
“miss u”
Tiny messages that calm your brain more than he realizes. Gojo hates seeing you blame yourself for everything. Especially when you apologize for existing needs.
“You know normal people ask for reassurance too, right?”
Crowded places become a balancing act in your relationship. Sometimes he drags you into chaotic outings because he genuinely wants to share things with you. Other times, he immediately notices when you’re nearing sensory overload and quietly pulls you somewhere calmer. Rooftops become your safe place together.
Gojo is the type to physically anchor you during stressful moments. Hand on your back. Thumb rubbing your knuckles. Pulling you gently against his side. He knows physical reassurance helps keep you present.
Your anxiety occasionally makes you overanalyze him, which honestly confuses Gojo at first.
“You took thirty minutes to reply.”
“I was fighting a curse.”
“Oh.”
“Did… did you think I died?”
“Maybe.”
Once he understands your anxiety better, he starts anticipating your worries before they fully spiral. If he’s late, he explains why immediately. If plans change suddenly, he warns you beforehand. If he notices you withdrawing, he checks in quietly instead of forcing conversation.
Gojo secretly loves being the person who calms you down. Not because he enjoys your anxiety, but because he knows trusting someone enough to lean on them is difficult for you.
During sleepless nights, he keeps you company without complaint. Sometimes you’ll find him sprawled beside you at 4 AM rambling about nonsense while you stare at the ceiling trying to slow your thoughts. Weirdly enough, his voice helps.
He never makes you feel “weak” for struggling. Gojo knows what it feels like to carry pressure constantly while pretending you’re okay. So when your anxiety becomes overwhelming, he doesn’t look at you with disappointment. Just softness.
If someone mocks your anxiety or calls you dramatic? Immediate death glare. Gojo can tolerate disrespect toward himself. Toward you? Absolutely not.
Loving Gojo with anxiety means slowly learning that reassurance does not always disappear. That someone can leave for work and still come back. That silence is not always rejection. That love can feel safe instead of unpredictable and little by little, Gojo becomes the person your nervous system starts recognizing as home.
You really didn’t mean to ask! It was supposed to be more of a joke than anything else, just a laughable throwaway comment made to your boyfriend as you reached for your mug while hugging him cosily on the couch.
There’s two men kissing on your tv, something to do with the romance film you’re supposed to be paying attention to (since you picked, it against Megumi’s will) but the scene makes you giggle. “Heyyy, I bet you’ve made out with Yuji before, haven’t you?”
Your honest expectation was for Megumi to groan at your antics and vehemently deny that, no, he doesn't have a secret one-sided romance in the form of Yuji Itadori- except, he doesn’t. He straightens up against you in the way he only does when he’s trying to hide something, and you blink widely. And, oddly enough, the thought of Megumi making out with his best friend... doesn’t make you jealous at all.
You grab his hand eagerly. “Don’t be embarrassed. But, uh… would you do it again? Make out with Yuji for me?”
He groans. “You’re being really perverted right now.” But he doesn’t say no.
What Megumi also didn’t say is that him and Yuji did a lot more than just make out. Although, that was enough to make you salivate excitedly, Yuji's hands threading protectively into Megumi's dark hair as your boyfriend's tongue meshed against Yuji's mouth, cheek, ears, neck- and then it'd spiralled, Yuji dragging Megumi to straddle his lap against the headboard.
They did a lot more than just grind on each other over their boxers- which they gladly showed you, Yuji’s broad hands rocking Megumi’s narrow hips along- but, apparently, they also fucked. Properly, with spit and sweat and clashing hips.
And, apparently, your boyfriend bottomed.
He looks so pretty like this, is the first thought that floats into your head as you watch the way Megumi’s eyes gloss over at Yuji’s first careful thrust, his soft lips passing open around a shuddered gasp.
You could tell he was trying to be quiet at first, biting his lip to keep the noises from slipping out as hot embarrassment flushed his cheeks. Megumi does the same when you have sex with him, but you have ways of opening him up- and so does Yuji, clearly, fingers curling into his waist to yank him strongly backwards until the noises are punched out of him.
“Mmfh- hah-“ he gasps, eyes brimming with a few overstimulated tears as his elbows give way to crash to the sheets. Yuji’s holding your boyfriend’s lean hips up, plunging into him a little meanly with each stroke.
Megumi can’t look at you. He doesn’t want you to see his face, all pathetic and teary and crammed against the sheets of your shared bed as his best friend pummels inside him. From what you can see, his pretty eyelashes are beaded with tears and they’re rapidly fluttering against the duvet below, spiky hair ruffled in every direction possible.
Although, Megumi couldn’t look at you even if he wanted to. His eyes are rolling themselves starrily back in their sockets as Yuji’s sobbing tip glides across his sweet spot and stretches him out, a few quiet groans slipping out of the pink haired man’s mouth.
When you lean forwards, sliding automatically onto the floor to hold onto Megumi’s hands, his face looks wrecked. He looks wrecked, collapsed forwards into your sheets as Yuji pummels him from behind; you gaze up at him, Yuji awkwardly grins like he’s about to give you a thumbs up or wave then realises his hands are too busy gripping Megumi’s hips.
“Megs,” you whisper, shoving his hair back from his rolling eyes, “Megs, it’s okay. I’ve got you, don't worry.” He nuzzles forwards into your hand and whimpers, tears sliding down his red cheeks. Whether they’re from embarrassment or arousal, you can’t tell.
“F-fuck.” He shudders out, grinding forwards into the sheets. “M’sorry, hck, I…” he trails off, obviously forgetting whatever he was supposed to initially say when Yuji thrusts in again. And then he remembers.
“I’m pathetic.”
Your heart clenches a little. “You aren’t.” You coo, stroking away his tears. “You aren’t, Megs. You’re perfect for us.” He gasps and shudders, hips bucking. Yuji moans from above, lip caught between his teeth.
“S-sorry, guys-“ he heaves, genuinely feeling bad he interrupted, “I don’t think- im about to cum. Do you want me to, like, pull out, Megumi?”
Megumi’s too fucked dumb to answer, face smushed between your loving hands. “Do you want Yu to pull out?” You whisper. Megumi nods lucidly at you, and Yuji adheres; he pulls himself out with an obscenely slick noise and Megumi collapses into the mattress where he continues his mindless grinding into the sheets.
You know he’s ruined the duvet with cum when he moans and his pupils dilate outwards before rolling back, his facial expression quite literally the hottest thing you think he’s ever let you see him do. “So good for us,” you assure him as he shakes through the aftershocks, “so good.”
From behind, Yuji is still half-straddling Megumi as he jerks his cock with his hand. He’s gasping and shuddering above, silken skin slapping against his calloused palm and thumb as he pushes himself towards an orgasm quickly.
“Shit!” He groans when he cums, almost doubling over as his abdomen tenses in on itself. Thick ropes spurt across Megumi’s sweaty lower back, streaking the pale skin with sticky white globs that drip across the flesh almost nastily. “Sorry.” Yuji pants immediately after it’s done, “didn’t wanna ruin your sheets.”
You laugh breathlessly, a little more turned on by his show than you’d be willing to admit if anybody asked. “I think Megs has that one covered. Don’t you, baby?” You purr, holding your boyfriend’s lolling head up in your palms. His face is bright red in embarrassment, but he’s still recovering from the space his brain retreated into for him to respond.
Yuji grins, smile just as boyish as it usually is. Apparently, he’s completely undeterred by the naked body beneath him and the way he’s also incredibly naked, cock out in front of Megumi's girlfriend's face and dripping cum onto Megumi’s back. “Well,” Yuji says, scratching the back of his neck, “I guess you’re right.”
He yanks on his clothes, awkwardly avoiding the way Megumi looks like he’s just ran a marathon and is still panting because of it like his dick wasn’t just buried inside him. Then, Yuji stands in your bedroom like a puppy waiting to be given orders.
“Do you want a drink?” You offer him, still petting Megumi’s head as he recovers. You know he’d hate the attention to be on him when he’s like this, so you’re being casual. Yuji deliberates on this for a moment, tapping his chin. “Do you have tap water?”
You snort. “Yes, we do. Glasses are above the sink, knock yourself out.” Yuji bounces out of the room- thankfully wearing his clothes now- and you hear the glasses clink from your kitchen.
“Hey, Megs.” You whisper, noticing the way his eyes have refocused onto your face. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, you did so good. I really liked it.”
He loops his arms- as trembling as they are- around your neck and gasps in a few deep breaths until he’s steady again. “You…” he says quietly, “you liked it?” You nod. “Mhm. A lot.”
He avoids your eye contact and drags the blanket around his hips. “Huh.”
“Guys!” Yuji yells from the hallway, a little too loud for how late it is, “I’m gonna go home and sleep. Have a nice weekend!”
“Bye, Yu!” You call back, before returning your attention to your naked, sleepy boyfriend, who presses his mouth lazily to yours as soon as you’re within reach. You should do this more often.
people who asked for an itafushi ver (I hope you don’t mind being tagged, eek!) @huckleberrycake @loser-with-eyeliner @jaiceekamo @0soleilmist @dssstinyy @megumiswifeyily
You’re not… a pervert, exactly. Sure, you’ve imagined your boyfriend being stuffed from behind by his (equally sexy) best friend, but it’s not like you’d ever act on it! Well, that is until Gojo shows up gleefully at your shared apartment with a few new types of alcohol ‘to try’ and your mouth speaks before you can think about it.
“Toru, did you ever fuck Suguru in university?”
Gojo freezes, glass halfway to his pretty mouth. Initially, you’re mortified and think he’s probably considering breaking up with you right there- instead, the flush dusting across his cheeks tells you the answer to your question.
“Hm.” You smile knowingly, slow and coy, then cross your legs over each other. “Would… would you do it again?”
That’s how, a week later, you find yourself perched cosily in the chair that sits in the corner of your bedroom as you watch your usually strong, cocky boyfriend get reduced to a babbling mess on his best friend’s cock.
“Oh fuck, fuck, Sugu-“ Gojo gasps, hand reaching out blindly for the tangled sheets in front of him, his broad shoulders shaking with the effort of holding himself up on his corded forearms. Geto’s expansive back muscles roll as he rocks his hips forwards into your boyfriend, a few pieces of silky hair plastered to his face already.
“Come on, Satoru.” Geto purrs, snapping his hips once to hear the strangled noise that chokes out of your boyfriend’s throat, “don’t tell me you can’t take it anymore? You used to do it so well.” His hand entwines in Gojo’s hair and pulls, simultaneously bringing his body down to shove his tongue against his.
The mere sight of it is enough for you to gasp beneath your breath, electricity bubbling between your thighs as you watch Geto devour Gojo’s face. Soft white hair is crumpled beneath his fingers as Gojo moans desperately into the other man’s mouth, rutting backwards as he seeks the compatibility of their hips smacking together.
To be honest, you’d expected Gojo to be the top at first. Maybe it was because you were projecting the way he’d relentlessly pummel into you sometimes, how his big hand would wrap around your throat and clench enough for you to squeal beneath him. Or maybe you just wanted to see how beautiful Geto’s hair would look against your pillows.
But when Geto had walked into the bedroom, hair loosely undone as he yanked his shirt over his tanned shoulders, it wasn’t just you who drooled- Gojo had looked at him nervously, then you, kissed your forehead softly and murmured a little. Geto comfortingly rubbed your lower back and moved away. Even if he was about to fuck your boyfriend in front of you, he was still nice about it.
“Are you sure you want me to do this?” He’d said nervously, thumb running over your knuckles. “It’s… Suguru could be a lot, baby.”
Your eyes had drifted over to the man then, already spread out lazily on the edge of your bed as he waited for your conversation to be over. Geto was leaning back on his haunches, thighs resting apart as though he was waiting for Gojo to drop to his knees between them. Strangely, the thought didn’t peak jealousy in you but a thick, sticky desire to see it.
Turning your attention back to your boyfriend, “yes, Satoru.” Whispered against his mouth, “I trust you. And I want to watch.”
Geto smirked behind you and you met his eyes; you weren’t that close with him, really, but at least you had something to bond over now.
Fucking Satoru Gojo.
Which is what he’s doing now- exceptionally well, in fact. Geto has Gojo facing you, his bright blue eyes cloudy and dropped to the floor as he’s pistoned back and forth by the cock rummaging around in his insides. He can see your socked feet, one thigh pressed over the other.
“Don’t tell me you can’t take it.” Geto says again, voice pattered with the occasional groan as Gojo clenches around him. “Not even for her?”
Gojo gasps as a strong hand digs into the roots of his hair and yanks him up to face you, blue and dilated eyes rolling in his skull at the pain before he trembles them to face your face. He’s expecting you to look a little horrified, shocked and mortified at how pathetic he can get- but, to his surprise (dulled by the feeling of Geto’s cock prodding inside him) you… don’t.
Your lips are parted in a little disbelieving ‘o’ shape, panties soaked through- not that he can see that part- your thighs switching between squeezing together and parting as the sensation gets too much. “Look at him.” Geto laughs, “so pretty for us, isn’t he?”
You nod, biting your lip as your boyfriend hangs his head again. “So pretty for us, toru.” You agree softly.
His cock, pale but flushed angrily at the tip as Geto uses his hands to grip his hips instead, hangs untouched between his muscled thighs and twitches pre onto the sheets. You’d feel sorry for him if he didn’t look so utterly gorgeous getting destroyed in front of your face like this.
Gojo’s arms finally give up as Geto’s tip bumps rigidly across his sweet spot, elbows collapsing onto the sheet along with his face as it smushes down. Gojo’s spine curves in a way you’ve never thought it could- his hips gripped up by Geto, shoulders flat as a hand splays them out. He looks wrecked.
You slip from the chair to the floor, knees on the carpet, ignoring the way Geto moans to focus on your boyfriend as he struggles to keep his eyes open at the sudden wave of pleasure when his ass is yanked backwards again; his cheeks are sweaty when you instinctively reach out for him, instinctively seeking to comfort, and he leans into your touch just as naturally.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck-“ he whimpers, panicking at the stimulation and his snowy lashes batting across his cheek. “C-can’t-“
“You can, Satoru.” You whisper to him, lifting his head and thumbing away a few shaky tears threatening to brim at his waterline. “You’re being so, so good, sweetheart.”
He gasps out your name weakly and arches further when he shoves his mouth against yours blindly. The kiss is soft, a contrary to the way Geto is ruining him; your hands gently brush away white hair from his eyes, your touch loving.
“I’m close.” Geto breathes, his hand still pressing down between Gojo’s shoulders. You, still breathless from the kiss and the vision of your boyfriend, raise a surprised eyebrow at Gojo’s moan and you realise just how long he’s gone without real direct stimulation.
“It’s okay, baby.” You soothe him as you move from his field of vision to kneel beside him on the bed, ignoring the constant smacking of skin on skin while your hand snakes between his thighs to wrap around his cock.
“Ah-“ he sobs, “fu-ck-“
Geto makes the mistake of looking down at you, at the way your eyes are all glossy and your hand is coated in shiny pre while you work your boyfriend up to his orgasm. Something about it, about being allowed into this space where his control is only a mimicry of yours, makes Geto’s abdomen clench.
He gasps, the sound punched in on itself, as his head tips backwards and he jutters his hips deep enough to make Gojo choke while he spills inside him. At the same time, your thumb presses down on your boyfriend’s sensitive slit and he cums across your knuckles. It’s thick and there’s ropes of it, dripping messily onto the bed.
“Shh, you did so good for us.” You murmur to Gojo as Geto pulls out, presses a polite kiss to your cheek, then sets about to gather his things as he lets you sweet talk your boyfriend.
“Yeah?” Gojo laughs weakly, a little embarrassed now he’s coming down from the sex. “You weren’t… you liked it?”
“I did.” You giggle, wrapping your arms around his awkwardly long limbs while you gently smile at Geto. “Bye, Suguru.”
He laughs, tying his hair back up after tucking his cock away and pulling his clothes on. “Bye. And bye, Satoru.”
Gojo flushes embarrassingly bright against you. “Bye.”
“So…” you say quietly, combing your nails through his white hair. “Should I join in next time? It looked fun.”
Suguru loves giving her sweet assistant special treatment! Be it wearing mini skirts barely brushing her ass or fucking her on a CEO's desk after a long, tiring day!
requested by fair anon
˖𑁤 ݁˖ pairing: Ceo fem!Suguru x Assistant!Reader
˖𑁤 ݁˖ content/warnings: ꒰ MDNI 18+ :: wlw :: office romance :: age gap (reader in early 20s, Suguru in early 30s) :: mentions of femjo (ofc, my wifey) :: mature women :: dominant Suguru :: reader is such a minx :: flirting :: fluff :: smut :: oral sex :: use of strap-on :: reader calls her mommy :: tit sucking :: office sex :: 2.2k words ꒱
˖𑁤 ݁˖ notes: Oh, fem boss Suguru, the things I would do for you...
divider by @uzmacchiato
art by @/sugurusboobs on X
Everyone in the office knew your CEO was hot. Dominant, sharp-tongued, always spreading an air around herself that squeezed the throats of her workers.
Some believe that having a female boss is much better than having a male one, but Suguru proved them wrong every day. The most successful woman in Japan, leading the fashion industry with her brilliant projects that reached global markets, the "ruthless matriarch" as some liked to call her.
And whenever she entered the office, the atmosphere always seemed to shift slightly. Her employees looked up at her tall figure as she hurried down the corridors. Black, silky hair brushed her waist, a tight shirt clung to her heavy breasts, and hips swayed in gentle waves beneath the tight-fitting trousers. She was tall, yet there was never a day she didn't wear heels, always looming like a ghastly figure over the male employees.
Having neither a husband nor children, she stayed in the office day and night, working her ass off just to keep the number-one spot in global markets. Her Forbes Under 30, Best Fashion Designer Award, and Top Ten Richest Women in the world.
Some might say she was a pretty good boss. Kind and polite, though slightly cold in demeanour. Staying overtime wasn't that bad when she paid her employees three times the hourly rate and ensured they all worked efficiently.
Everyone knew that as long as she didn't pay much attention to you, life was good. Great, even. Everyone truly wanted to keep minimal contact with their boss, who reminded them of a praying mantis rather than a woman.
No one wished to look into her squinted, almond-shaped eyes and be drawn into the heaviness of her lavender gaze. No one wished to land in her office, only to receive the harsh scolding that pushed tears into her employees' eyes.
No one, and truly no one, knew... how you did that.
Get on her sweet, caring side, that is.
The young assistant who joined the company only a few months ago suddenly became the centre of her attention.
Your first day at a company would be treated as a total failure by most of your coworkers. With a miniskirt wrapped around your hips, its hem barely brushing your middle thighs, and a red bra showing through the white shirt. Long socks covered your legs up to the knees, giving your thighs a little squish.
You... didn't look bad. But also did not look corporate-like.
When Utahime saw you, she almost had a heart attack. Shoko, the menager, told you to send a prayer.
"Boss pays close attention to proper attire," she said, tugging at your skirt. "So I wish you good luck."
And thus, on the first day, after getting accustomed to your teammates and managers, you finally went to the lion's den.
The nicely manicured hand knocked on the milky-glassed door, and when a low come in, slipped from the room, you pushed the handle with a squeezed throat.
And then... you saw her.
Your knees nearly buckled, heart fluttered with warmth filling your chest, and mind suddenly went blank.
As the woman who sat behind the desk must have truly been a descendant of a Goddess herself. Lavender eyes traced your body, dark locks smooched her cheeks and lips, crimson red, curving into a little smile.
The white shirt was tight around her chest, and a single thin necklace nestled between her plush breasts. Long cherry nails tapped on the desk, filling the silent room.
"Close the door, sweets," she said, taking in the sudden warmth that hit your cheeks.
With a shy oh, you pushed the heavy glass, separating you two from the commotion and whispers outside. Her office was mostly made of glass walls, but the milkiness of their structure allowed for a bit of privacy.
On the one side, it certainly was good.
But on the other hand, you felt ashamed of the wetness beginning to pool in your panties. The heat bubbling in your stomach, fingers fiddling with the edge of your skirt, and only now did you realise how truly short it was.
"Good morning boss, I'm your n-new assistant," fuck, of course your voice failed you when it shouldn't!
Suguru hummed, finally standing up. Long legs, wrapped in loose trousers, moved in front of the desk before she leaned against its edge, head tilted.
Your figure didn't escape the heavy gaze for even a second, and so you wriggled awkwardly in place, trying to cover your naked thighs with miserable attempts.
"Come a bit closer, I don't bite," she chuckled, and the smoothest melody curled around your ears.
You walked towards her, cheeks burning and eyes unable to look away as her plump thighs spread when she sat on a desk. Thick and meaty, you wished to bite into them with a delicious moan, before slipping up to–oh dearst heavens!
You shouldn't have such nasty thoughts about your boss!
With fingers lightly pinching your thighs, just to wake yourself up for the delirious, lustful dream, you finally stood in front of her.
The sweet fragrance of her perfume tickled your nose, and a devil perched on your arm whispered minx-like temptations to lean in and lick the sweetness of her milky neck.
Oh, perhaps you should consider resigning immediately.
"So you're my new assistant, hm?" she asked, noticing the red lace bra peeking through your shirt.
"I am, boss." You noticed her gaze and mentally slapped yourself. You may or may not have forgotten to do the laundry. "I'm s-sorry, I'll work on my attire. It's just that this morning–"
But Suguru just giggled, reaching for your skirt and tugging at the hem. As her fingers brushed your thighs, you were grateful for the extra pair of panties in your bag, since the ones you wore were too soaked to last the day.
"It's okay, sweets. Your attire is perfectly fine," she said, lavender eyes mingling like little stars.
Your lips parted, and you were nearly certain she could hear the rapid beat of your heart. Pounding as if it were about to cause a cardiac arrest any second.
"Oh," slipped quietly, as your gazes crossed. "Manager Shoko said–"
"It doesn't matter what she said. I like your skirt," and before you could respond, she straightened up, towering at least a head taller. "You can get back to work now. I'll call if I need anything."
And thus, since that day, Suguru, for the first time, seemed to be bewitched.
Maybe it was the loveliness of your face, or maybe the way your soft voice wrapped around her senses in the most pleasurable way.
The employees soon noticed the special treatment she seemed to shower you with – your favourite coffee waiting on your desk each morning, a pair of new heels under your desk since you broke the other pair the other day, and a workload much lighter than your teammates'.
Your desk was placed right next to Suguru's office, yet still within the shared area. As a result, people who had always taken the utmost pleasure in not seeing the boss for a whole day now seemed to walk on eggshells.
As Suguru slipped from her office much more often than she used to. Only to come to your desk and have a little, lovely chitchat as if nothing in this world mattered more than hearing your chipper at least five times a day.
Sometimes she would invite you to lunch, and other times she shooed away Satoru, whose crystal gaze quickly noticed the new sweet assistant. Her closest, most irritating friend, who took a special pleasure in flirting with you in the nastiest, cheeks-heating ways.
And when you got more comfortable, noticing that Suguru seemed as interested in you as you were in her... the big flirtation war had started.
You – bending in front of her desk, because, oh, boss, it seems you dropped a pen! Miniskirt lifting up to show your red laced panties with a little wet spot right on your pussy.
Her – flushing cherry red, wriggling on the leather chair in an uncomfortable manner, and throwing another pen right in front of her eyes.
You – coming to her with each silly problem, just to chirp foolishly like a sweet birdie and look at her with round, doe eyes.
Her – coming to your desk and bending over, until the heavy breasts pressed against your arm and lips were mere millimetres from your heated ear.
You – flirting back with Satoru, biting your lip with a giggle.
Her – inviting you to her office after hours, only to fuck you like a madwoman with a long, pinkish strapon.
Your ass red from all the gentle slaps, tits pressed to her desk, and tears rolling down your cheeks whenever the round her smooched your cervix.
She would lean in and lick a long stripe up your spine, just to leave crimson kisses across your heated skin.
"Do you like to see me jealous, sweets?" Her voice curled around your earlobe as she shoved the silicone toy up to your belly.
Nothing but wet squelches and your moans filled her dark office as you tried to keep yourself steady on her desk. With fingers gripping the edge and hips rolling back, just to meet her every brutal thrust.
"Mmm," a cry fell past your lips, as her fingers slipped down your hips and flickered over your swollen clit. "B-Boss, I–ahhh–I'm s-sorry!"
She chuckled, rolling the hardener bud between her fingers. "Are you? It seemed you enjoyed yourself quite a lot."
With a single move, she rolled you over. Back pressed to the desk, thighs glued to the chest, till she pushed you into a mean, mating press.
"No, I–fuck–I didn't," another cry rolled as she pushed the dildo even deeper.
Till her hips met yours and tight cunt moulded under the thick, drenched toy. The sight of her full hips and jiggling breasts made your head spin. Saliva trickled down your chin, and she brushed it away with a low giggle.
"So you think my eyes are lying?" She leaned in until her heavy breasts pressed against yours. "Tell me, sweetie, do you think your boss is lying? Or maybe you just want to get fucked stupid in front of Satoru, hm? I think she would be quite happy–ah!"
A low, satin moan slipped past her lips as your fingers rolled her nipples, giving them a gentle squeeze. She looked utterly beautiful, bewitching, with crimson lipstick smeared on her cheek and a little heart twinkling behind her eyes.
Her pace was maddeningly ruthless, pumping you full with a thick cock and melting you beneath her fingers. She soon cut her three nails short, only to have a better time with your always drenched cunt.
As when she wasn't fucking you mad with a silicone cock – she had your spread on her office sofa.
With you sucking on her breasts and her pumping all three digits deep into your swollen pussy. Raven hair stuck to her flushed cheeks, and her teeth bit down on lower lip whenever you moaned around her hardened bud.
"Mommy–mmm–you taste so fucking good," a whimper hit her sensitive breasts as you slurped at the heaviness of her breasts.
The fat was spilling from between your fingers, sweet buds deep in your throat, as she bent her fingers to hit your sweet spot.
"Am I?" she asked, brushing a loose strand of your hair with another hand. "You would love to drink mommy's milk, wouldn't you?"
A quick nod shook your head as you allowed your face to get squished between her breasts. "Mhm, I wish you would get pregnant so I could suck on your tits every single day."
You soon left her breasts, only to go down, and down, tracing wet kisses across her belly, hips, till finally folding her legs to bury yourself in the sweetness of her cunt.
Nothing turned you on more than seeing her always so serious face twisted in pleasure, as you drank the hefty juices dripping down your throat. Your lips wrapped around her swollen clit, and two fingers slipped inside to feel the warm walls clench around your digits.
You loved feeling her thick thighs wrap around your head – pulling you closer, cutting off the air until you could breathe and eat nothing but the creaminess of her pussy. She tasted oh so heavenly, making your own cunt drench on the sofa and thighs clench in painful need.
"Mhm, sweets, you're doing so well," she purred, brushing your hair. "My cute little assistant."
You looked up to her with teary eyes, brows furrowed in pleasure. "Do you feel good, mommy?"
Your lips sucked on her clit, and she bent into a delicious arc. "So good, fuck, come on sweetie, make me cum."
You nodded, pumping your fingers faster, meaner. Hitting her spot with every bent, slurping on the clit till her walls finally clenched hard around your digits and sweet ambrosia gushed down your throat.
You drank everything she gave you. With crossed eyes and juices dripping down your chin, overstimulating her pussy with a maddening pumping.
Till she finally needed to rip you away and pull closer, only to close your lips in a messy, drenched kiss. With plush lips smooching yours and a heavy fragrance wrapping around your senses.
As she tugged at your hair to pull you back, only a silver thread connected your swollen lips.
"Am I a g-good assistant?" you cried, feeling her thumb brush your heated cheek.
A sly smile tugged on her lips as he tilted her head. "Of course, sweetie. A fucking employee of the month."
suguru teaching satoru how to eat pussy on his gf <3
satoru x reader x suguru
"stop being so nervous sweet girl, it's just satoru." the soothing voice of suguru does not match the situation at all — your legs being held open by your boyfriend who was sitting behind you, with satoru on his knees right in between them.
despite being so anxious, the patch of wetness on your panties was visible to both of them — even more by satoru who was currently fighting demons to not just rip of the lacy material and devour the sight in front of him.
you don't even know if you agreed because of suguru, who was trying his best to convince you, or if you really just wanted to see his best friend eat you out. either way, there's no reason to complain with how satoru looks like he's in pain from holding back.
"c'mon open your legs wider, sweetheart. let him see you, we wanted to teach him, remember?" he's tugging your panties down with one hand, the other pushing your legs apart softly, encouranging you to expose yourself.
deciding to take matters in his own hand due to his impatience, satoru practically rips down your panties, leaving your wet cunt on display — his face so close you could feel his hot breath.
"you going to teach me, sugu?" it's the first time he looks up, probably remembering he doesn't actually know how to do this, despite sounding like more than ready to learn. suguru chuckles at his eagerness, his hands set on the back of your thighs, massaging the flesh gently, in an attempt to calm your nerves.
"patience, satoru. she likes it slow — put your hands on her thighs and leave some kisses." he doesn't need to tell him twice — his grip on your legs rougher than suguru's. he starts placing wet kisses on the inner part of your thighs, the contact making you gasp softly, your back pushing against your boyfriend's chest.
it's not the same as when suguru does it but either way it feels right — his kisses coming closer and closer to your embarassingly wet pussy. "you're doing good, i can tell she likes it. start coming closer but don't be harsh." satoru doesn't respond, but by the way he's moving closer you knew he heard him perfectly.
suguru's hand starts to move to your bra, pushing the straps down, making room for him to grope your tits. it's pathethic really — but the simultaneous stimulation is turning you on more than it should, your hips bucking up in a poor attempt to make contact with satoru's mouth. "poor girl can't wait? don't worry, satoru will help you, won't you satoru?"
"hmm?" it sounds like said satoru is busy staring at your puffy pussy lips, his fingers starting to carefully move up and down, collecting the wetness only to spread it all over again. the sudden feeling makes you whimper — you could practically see suguru's smile. "shit, you hid this from me all this time, sugu?"
satoru sounds genuinly offended his best friend would hide something so pretty from him for so long. "you never asked, though i'm sure my girl thought about it before, didn't you?" he pinches your nipple teasingly, making your back arch against him. "n—no..." your voice falters, suddenly not sounding so confident, hearing both of them laugh quietly like they didn't believe you at all.
"no need to lie, sweetheart. after all, i'm sure satoru thought about it quite often. can't say i haven't." with the hand he used to hoist your leg up, he nudges satoru's head, until his lips touch your clit, a surprised moan escaping you almost immediatly.
satoru groans against your pussy, satisfied he finally got what he wanted. he's not half bad for never having done this before — his tongue moving greedily to suck and lick at your folds. actually, that was a total lie — he's eating it like he's done this a hundred times before, moving from licking at your hole, to sucking on your clit until your writhing and moaning, suguru holding you down.
"use your fingers while sucking on her clit, it makes her cry like crazy." suguru's instructions don't fall deaf to satoru his mouth moving back on your clit, fingers teasing your hole before plunging in one.
your eyes roll back, the stimulation everywhere at once being too much and yet not enough at the same time. suguru puts his hand on your chin, forcing you to look down at the white haired boy currently feasting on your pussy like it's his last meal. "look at him while he's licking your cunt, sweet girl. doesn't he look pretty?"
your eyes sweep over only to see satoru already looking at you through his lashes, his finger pumping in and out of your hole. "y—yeah so pretty..." the intense eye contact is somehow making you more shy than him literally eating you out, your head moving against suguru's chest, turning to the side.
suguru chuckles — brushing a stray piece of hair out of your face, pressing your face closer to his chest. "you're being so good for him, i'm so proud of you." it would be a lie if he said he doesn't love it when you get shy during any type of sexual intimacy, his hard cock being pressed against your backside.
it doesn't take you much to get close — maybe it's the humilation of being shared by two men, maybe it's the way satoru doesn't even stop to take a breath, but either way, time barely passed and you're already instinctivly pushing your hips to grind against satoru's mouth.
satoru makes a sound that sounds like a half-groan half-moan, the vibrations going straight against your cunt. he buries himself deeper, adding a second finger to move inside of you, curling just right. "you going to cum for us, sweetheart?" suguru's hand moved back to grope your chest, massaging the bud between his fingers.
"w—wait i'm g—gonna cum sugu—toru..!"your only response is a cry that turns into a gasp when satoru starts sucking your clit. he moans when he feels your cunt clench around his fingers repeatly. suguru uses his free hand to push satoru's head deeper into your folds, making sure he stays there until you're cumming right on his mouth.
the moment you cum, your whole body twitches, trying to move away from the pleasure, if suguru wouldn't hold you in place."that's it sweetheart, just like that." a second later satoru feels you cum around his fingers, his mouth staying on your clit until your body relaxes against him.
only then does he take his mouth and fingers off — his eyes staying glued to his wet fingers like he himself can't believe it was his doing. he looks up, not without putting his fingers into his mouth to suck off the liquid on his hand until it's clean.
your body is limp against suguru's, trying to catch your breath, while satoru looks like he's about to go in again. "looks like you aren't half as bad, satoru." suguru teases, his hands caressing you faintly, while placing soft kisses on your naked shoulder and neck.
"want her to suck you off now?" it was supposed to be a somehow sacrcastic question, but the glint in his eyes makes it look like he wouldn't be against it.
"only if you get on your knees too."
a/n: i don't know if to put this in my suguru or satoru masterlist...
Mommy!Sugu forcing a vibrater on readers clit even when she’s overstimulated and crying (◞‸◟；)
Mdni, nsfw, squirting, fem reader.
Suguru is being sooo gentle (at least by his standards).. the soft vibrator circling your wet bundle of nerves..>__<
Youre laid out on your back, legs spread wide enough for him to have easy access too.. Suguru has been teasing you for what felt like hours now. Your thighs, slick with sweat tremble as the vibrator slides up and down your soaked slit. "Goood girl...thats it make a mess for me" Suguru encourages, his lips pulled into a patronizing smile. His smooth hands run up and down your stomach applying pressure on your womb. Sugruru loves you like this all teary eyed and overstimulated. He circles the vibrator on your clit watching in awe as your back arches off the bed, you moan something that sounds like his name and hes quick to comfort you "sh sh sh..'s okay mommys here" he wipes your tears while pressing the vinrator harder against your cunt swallowing your cries in a suffocating kiss his tonguge slides against yours in a way that leaves you gasping for air.
Your hands scramble for stability and land on his deltoids, hnghh gonn--aahh!" your body feels like jelly in his hold, sweat dripping down your furrowed eyebrows. Suguru only makes it worse, his fingers slip inside, curlings and stretching you open Your hips raise as you moan out completly humiliated. Added simulation making you loose your mind. Your heart races as you feel yourself close to another orgasam, tears stream down your face. Sugurus eyes light up, the desire to watch you crumble again in his arms consumes him. He presses his mouth agaisnt your temple groaning profatites in your ear "Fucking filty, cant think about anything other than cummin huh?" Your orgasam rips from you, with a unpretty moan, you try to deny his words even as your cunt betrays you. "No? No? Is that why you keep squirting baby?" He accuses, amethyst eyes pouring into you so intensely you cant help but feel small under his gaze. You dont even realize your squirting until he points it out-- you cover your face in shame "m-mommyy~!!" You cry out. Thighs shaking from the stimulation
Suguru presses a warm kiss against your cheek "so sweet for me honey...cmere lay back down on mommy's lap" uh oh.
──── ㅤׂㅤㅤ‧‧ㅤㅤ 𝓢𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮’sㅤㅤㅤ☆ㅤㅤㅤ夏油傑 way to wake you up 𓈒 ੭
𝐜.𝐰 ᡴꪫ 𓂃 + 𝟏𝟖 ⸝ morning sex :: oral f!receiving :: consensual somno :: established relationship :: sugu’s a gentle lover !!
the room is hazy with early light, windows slightly fogged by the heat in the room as you sleepily lie half-conscious on the king-sized bed. still pretty much in the arms of morpheus when you feel it—that familiar smoothness of your boyfriend’s movements. the slow, warm drag of his tongue between your folds, gently spreading you apart with his pinkish muscle.
suguru’s long black hair is completely loose, spilling like ink over your thighs as he settles between them. one strong arm hooked under your knee to keep you open for him, while the other caresses softly the skin of your hip bone.
he’s always so gentle in the mornings, almost reverent, but the way he licks into you doesn’t quite match the innocence of those words. he gives thick, broad strokes that end with a sweet suck to your clit, starting from your dripping hole all the way up to your swollen bud, savoring the sweet, musky taste of your arousal.
if you were being honest, it looked more like a make out session with your lower lips rather than a loving oral.
but who were you to complain?
a sleepy little whimper slips from your lips the moment his mouth wraps hotly around your nub, tugging it lightly with his teeth just to roll it on his tongue after. he hums appreciatively at your sweetness, adding a little more of pressure in his ministrations just to keep you squirming in his arms.
“shh, baby. let me take care of you,” he murmurs, voice still raspy but filled with desire for you. his free hand slides up your body and under your shirt, cupping one of your tits, thumb brushing over your nipple until it pebbles under his touch.
he looks so unfairly pretty like this—cheeks faintly flushed, dark eyes half-lidded as they lock with yours, lips swollen and wet with your juices, tongue buried deep, deep, deep in your cunt.
“ahh—! f-fuck… baby, you’re s-so deep—mhmm” your fingers thread through his silky hair, gripping and tugging softly the shiny strands, and he groans in approval.
he pushes deeper inside you, going in and out, in and out over and over again, grinding his nose against your clit as you whine and whimper from the overwhelming pleasure.
your thighs tremble around his head, signaling your upcoming release, and in response he holds you open wiiiiiider, taking the opportunity to slide two long, thick fingers into your tight, fluttering hole with a filthy squelch.
“o-oh, god! suguru!” you mewl loudly.
he pulls back just enough to kiss the inside of your thigh. “i know, princess. i got you. think you can stay still for me for a little while…? oh, yeah, just like that, baby. such a good girl.”
the praise makes you melt completely into a needy puddle, spreading your legs even wider just to give him more access. once he notices you’re just where he wants you, he dives back in, faster now.
his mouth seals around your clit, suckling eagerly and messy as a third finger makes its way through your soaked walls. the stretch feels fucking perfect, his fingers curl just right against your sweetest spots that you can’t help but grind your wetness all over his face.
and he lets you—loves it, actually—moaning into your cunt like he’s the one in the receiving end of the pleasure.
and in less than a blink, your orgasm crashes over you hard enough to make you shed some tears. the feeling is so overwhelming for your still fuzzy mind that you cry out his name, giving his hair a hard pull that earns you a tiny hiss. though he doesn’t stop, licking you through every aftershock until you’re a boneless, whimpering mess beneath him.
only then does he gently turn your limp, sleepy body over onto your stomach. when you start getting ready to fall into unconsciousness once again, you suddenly feel his broad, muscular body pressing down deliciously against your back.
his warm chest molds to your body, strong arms caging you on either side of your head, trapping you in his scent and heat. his hefty, throbbing cock—which you’ve only just noticed—nestles insistently between your thighs, kissing your slick slit and slowly prodding your puffy lips apart, lubing himself with your fresh cum.
“good morning, my love,” he whispers sensually against your ear, nuzzling your cheek with a lazy, affectionate kiss. “think you can handle one more before i have to leave?”
18+ ⸝⸝⸝ just when things were getting good with 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 and shy nerd!reader, exam week comes crashing down on her :(
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 below | part 5
you’d always find yourself distracted by thought of him—the memories of his sweet mouth, and just before that, his thick fingers stretching you out and getting you off.
in all honestly, you’d never even thought you’d be able to experience any of this in college at all with how much of a loser you were. you never thought you’d be able to find love this early in general.
you were too awkward. too much of a homebody. too much of an introvert.
you feel so lucky to have sukuna… even though he purposely annoyed you at first. though, now you know that was because he liked seeing you flustered. he’s been less annoying lately— you’re not sure why but you’re not complaining either.
you’ve been more happy than usual as of lately. and it’s clearly all thanks to him.
however… the giddiness you’ve gotten from your relationship that’s suddenly become… explorative—has slowly become buried under a mountain of flashcards and the anxious tapping of your pen against a library table.
exam season is the bane of your existence with how much of a procrastinator you are.
you tried to play it cool whenever sukuna swung by—reining in your focus and pretending you weren’t counting the hours of sleep you were losing—but your boyfriend wasn’t the type of person you could hide things from.
sukuna would catch the way your eyes lost focus for a second too long when he lounged your bed (because apparently he was immune to exam week stress) and how your shoulders always seemed to stay hunched more often.
he didn’t say much, just watched you with that knowing, sharp look that told you he saw right through the i’m all good act.
your breaking point finally comes on a random wednesday night.
well actually—it wasn’t so random with how you’ve been bubbling over in stress lately. you have your biggest midterm on friday and you feel hopeless no matter how much you’ve been studying.
the library had been suffocating you. but when you moved to your dorm, the trashy fluorescent lighting only made a headache pulse behind your eyes.
you didn’t even think about it—you packed your bag, shoved your notes inside with zero care, and trudged toward sukuna’s dorm.
when you knocked, you didn’t wait for him to answer before leaning your forehead against the cool wood of the door.
it opens a second later, and you nearly tumble forward into his chest.
“still at it?” he questions with a light edge, low voice vibrating through you. you completely miss the concern laced in his voice though his teasing tone.
you don’t even attempt to look up at him, only walking past him and dropping your bag on the floor with a heavy thud.
“i hate everything,” you whine.
you throw yourself face down onto his bed—that seemed to be much fluffier than yours by the way—the silence of his room finally drowning out your mental noise.
sukuna shuts the door, the click of the lock echoing in the small space. he only stands there for a moment, looking down at the absolute mess of stress you’d become. he notices the way your fingers still twitch as if you’re trying to type revisions in your haze.
you let out a long, jagged groan into his mattress, your fingers curling into the sheets as you suddenly kick your feet in a fit of pure frustration.
“it’s not fair! i read the same paragraph six times and i still can’t remember it! i’m gonna fail, sukuna. i’m gonna fail and then drop out and live in a box—”
you’re halfway through another ramble when he finally reaches over, firm but not rough, rolling you onto your back.
“hey. look at me.”
you squirm, trying to push him off, frustrated and jittery, but he still doesn’t let go.
“i’m gonna fail! i can’t do this!” you blurt, throwing your hands over your glasses, smudging them in the way you hated in process.
he tilts his head, eyes narrowing. his tone hardens just enough to cut through your panic. “stop talking like that.”
“what?!” you groan, “i can’t help it!”
“yes you can,” he says steadily, almost clipped. “you’re the smartest girl i know. the smartest.”
you finally pause at that.
feel your face flush.
“…sh-shut up.”
he scoffs because he can’t help himself even now, “no you shut up.”
sukuna doesn’t let you hide any longer.
one of his hands, firm but careful, brushes your fingers aside and tucks them gently away. “m’sorry. didn’t mean that… but i’m still not gonna let you hide,” he grunts softly. “look at me.”
your eyes are glassy and there are angry tears their corners. you’re too tired and too stressed to be embarrassed about how much of a wreck you look, so you meet his eyes for just a second before flinching away.
“sorry…” you mumble.
he sighs. “don’t apologize, baby.”
without warning, he pulls you onto his lap, and memories from last week flash sharply through your mind. you try to ignore them because you want to focus on being pissed at the world at the moment.
“…sukuna,” you whine in frustration.
he holds you steady, hand on your hip, anchoring you. “shush. don’t whine. just breathe.”
you tilt your head forward, pressing it against his chest. “i’m not whining! i’m— ugh!” your hands twitch against his shoulders, trying to push him away, but he moves his other hand to move them gently pinned in front of you.
“yes you are,” he insists, tone teasing. the heat of his chest against you makes your words die on your tongue. “and stop squirming. you’re not going anywhere.”
you groan, flustered and frustrated, cheeks hot. “i’m gonna—i can’t think like this!”
he hums softly, releasing your hands and using one of his to brush them through your hair, tucking stray strands behind your ear. “then stop thinking,” he says firmly, “you’re smart enough for whatever test you’re stressing about. take a break.”
your hands tremble where they’ve settled for gripping at his sweatshirt. “no i’m not…” you huff shakily, a few hot tears slipping down your cheeks despite your effort to hide them from his gentleness.
“you are,” he practically coos.
you press your face into his chest, letting out a shaky breath. your fists clench the fabric of his shirt, your legs kicking restless against the mattress where they bracket his thighs. your body is tight with frustration, heat crawling up your neck, and every muscle aches from holding in hours of panic and exhaustion.
he finally realizes you’re crying and soothingly presses you more firmly into his chest.
your face burns, eyes wet, but you can’t stop squirming, twisting against him even as he holds you steady. part of you wants to shove him away, to get up and run, but another part can’t—not while the steady weight of him beneath you keeps you from tipping over completely.
your thighs clench together and that’s when you break.
“sukuna…” you whimper.
you don’t know what’s gotten into you.
“hm? tell me.”
you shake your head violently against his chest, tears soaking into his sweatshirt. “i don’t know— i just—”
he feels the way your thighs clench—the little tremors in your thighs—and something flashes behind his eyes.
“don’t fight it,” he murmurs, one hand sliding up to cup the back of your head like an anchor. “just let go for a second.”
your breath hitches as another hand starts moving slow circles at the base of your spine—the spot that makes you melt.
it’s too much… or not enough… but god does it feel good after days of tension coiled tight inside you.
another whimper slips out as instinct takes over. your hips roll weakly against his high thigh before freezing with sudden horror at what they’re doing on their own accord.
sukuna feels it.
he stills instantly beneath you—not pulling away from contact but stopping all movement with sharp control.
“...baby,” he grits out lowly under his breath.
“sukuna…” you repeat, more breathily, cunt pulsing against his hard muscle.
he groans—a deep, punched out sound that vibrates through his chest and into yours because he feels that too. feels it even though the fabrics separating you.
his thigh flexes.
you whimper yet again because it feels so good even though you’re shaking with frustration and tears still leaking down your cheeks.
“i can’t help it...” you say pathetically.
he scoffs darkly against the crown of your head before tipping it back just enough to make eye contact. your glasses are fogged up from crying against him and maybe something hotter.
“shoulda just told me what you wanted, huh?” he grunts, suddenly grinding you down harder onto him. “what you needed?”
you gasp but you’re too far gone to deny it, nodding shakily.
“want you… please… ‘kuna….”
he hisses under his breath your sweet words. your begging and that nickname that always slips out when you get needy—too gone to even get out his name.
he lifts your chin further, just enough to keep you fixed on him.
your lips are parted and shiny, glasses slipping down your nose now. your eyes are glassy, still pretty when you cry.
you make him feel drunk with desire, seeing you like this, frustrated and pent up. he knows he shouldn’t be this way. he should definitely comfort you. but… you want to feel better. and well, this was one way of doing it.
besides, who was he to deny you?
his voice drops even lower, almost dangerous. he’s had enough of holding himself back recently.
“yeah? you need me, baby?”
you pout without realizing it, humping his thigh with more desperation.
“y-yes— please—”
you pawing at his sweats, not even knowing what you’re asking for at this point, brain too muddled.
you know you’re not ready for sex yet. but god, you just want something. you want to feel something more.
sukuna hisses.
fuck that. he has to hold himself back for your sake.
“tch. none of that yet, baby. come on.”
your eyes widen and you shake your head, snapping out of it the same time he does. you try to come up with a quick excuse.
you wince, “i- i just meant— i wanna um… y-your thighs—? oh god. nevermind.”
his eyebrows shoot up. you’re not even sure how he understood what you wanted to say through your stuttering.
“you wanna ride my thigh without my sweats in the way?”
fuck. you shouldn’t have tried saying anything at all.
you gulp and hesitate—even though yes. yes that’s exactly what you want.
he leans in close, a hand coming up to grip your chin softly, “don’t go quiet again on me, baby. answer me.”
your cheeks heat even more than before. he’s always so patient with you, it feels like your heart is gonna burst.
you swallow and manage to squeak out a quiet, “y-yeah… i want that….”
he grunts. and then before you know it, he’s pulling you into a kiss. its slow, but messy and it makes you cling to him even harder as your wet mouths slide with one another.
you don’t even notice how you haven’t stopped grinding onto his thigh.
he pulls away first, just to breathe, and then he’s pulling you off of him just for a second in order to toss off his sweatpants.
finally.
your eyes go wide at the sight of him in just his boxers, cunt pulsing again in helpless need as you try to ignore how hard he looks. this is the first time you’re seeing him in just his underwear.
you can’t help but ogle at how big he looks under the fabric.
“sukuna...” you whine, moving back towards him.
“shh,” he soothes darkly as he pulls you back onto his bare thigh. with the rough fabric gone you can feel the warm, toned skin of his thigh pressed to your soaked panties. “just ride me like this.”
you clench around nothing at all and let out a broken moan.
he feels your cunt pulsing even better against him now, and he has to ball his hands into fists to stop himself from just grinding you against him to see you fall apart.
sukuna watches every little reaction on your face—the way your lips part with each shaky breath and how they wobble as you try to hold back more tears of frustration.
“fuck,” he mutters under his breath once you finally start rolling your hips. the sight of you on his thigh, trying to get off is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
you’re so gone. so perfect.
the next roll of your hips particularly sharp on purpose. you gasp as your swollen clit catches against his muscle, making you whimper and only speed up your movement.
he groans, “shit— take it easy, yeah?”
“mmh- yeah…” you breathe. but you don’t slow at all. it feels so good. just his thigh is relieving your stress so so well. “f-feels good—” you admit with a whine, gripping his shoulders.
“yeah? feel better already?” he grunts, thigh flexing, making you fall forward into the crook of his neck.
“mmhm!”
you nod frantically, pressing your forehead press against his shoulder.
he chuckles—a low, rough sound. he places both his warm palms onto your waist in order to keep you steady.
“good girl,” he murmurs into the shell of your ear before nipping it lightly with his teeth. “just like that… let go for me.”
you swear the praise is enough to make you cum.
your hips stutter a rhythm, desperate little circles grinding down onto him, every drag of sensitive flesh over his hard muscle pulling choked whimpers from you.
you’re lost in a haze before, without warning, sukuna’s hand slips under your panties—fingers sliding effortlessly through your soaked folds.
“fuck! sukuna!”
but he’s pulling away, just as quickly, sucking on his fingers and the slick he had gathered there. you watch him, jaw slack, eyes half lidded—panting yet not stopping your needy grinding.
“always tastes so good,” he grunts, eyes locked on yours.
your body is strung tight—every nerve alight from the friction of his thigh and the filthy sight of him licking your arousal off his fingers like a man starved.
he moves his hands to grab your hips with both hands again, except this time, he’s guiding you harder against him in rough circles as he watches your face twist with pleasure.
“gonna make you cum just like this,” he promises darkly, voice wrecked.
you’re close so fast it’s embarrassing—legs shaking around his thick thigh as wetness drips down onto where his skin meets your cunt.
he grunts at the noise you make in response, only grinding you against him harder, pupils blown black.
“look atcha… dripnin’ all over my leg.”
you hiccup wetly, completely out of control of your own body, letting your boyfriend manhandle you as he grinds you into his thigh hard.
he pauses just slightly, so momentarily you almost don’t notice it if it wasn’t for the way you ached from losing just a second of pleasure.
his touch is warm and heavy against the small of your back as he calls out your name, slowing the way he’s pressing you onto his thigh.
“baby?” he tries, voice rougher than before. “can i see you?”
your breath hitches.
you know what he means—the way his eyes flick down to your heaving chest for a split second too long before dragging back up to meet yours.
nervousness coils in your stomach… but so does something hotter.
he feels the tension in you instantly—his thumb brushes over the fabric covering one nipple as if soothing and begging all at once.
“...wanna look at you,” he pleads.
you bite your lip in hesitation.
even though you’ve already let him finger you and eat you out, letting him see your tits feel like a whole other realm of exposure. besides, what if he thought they were ugly? uneven?
your grinding falters just a little. but he notices immediately.
his hands brush your sides, soothing. “hey, don’t do that sweetheart. look at me.”
ugh.
he knows what that pet name does to you.
your eyes lift up to his and then he’s swallowing the worry on your face with a gentle kiss, his hands on your waist squeezing softly.
“you don’t have to be nervous. just you and me here, yeah?” he mutters against your mouth. “you don’t gotta do anything you don’t want to.”
you gulp.
your cheeks burn hotter but you manage to get the words out anyway.
“n-no… i- i want to…”
he smiles that warm and possessive look and it makes you feel a little braver.
he moves to pull the hem of your top—but not before making sure you absolutely want this one last time, pausing to ask, “this off then?”
your stomach does a little flip.
you chew on your lip as you nod. “yeah.”
once it’s off and you’re only in your bra, he looks up at you, one more time, making sure this is all okay. you nod shakily again. and this time, you’re the one reaching back to unclip your bra, pulling it off clumsily with shaky hands.
now your chest is bare in front of him for the first time.
his eyes drop immediately… then soften in a way that surprises even him.
“...fuck. you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he rasps out like an oath, like the words are ripped out of him. “all of you is so perfect.”
the uttered words send a searing heat through. your body can’t help but jolt on his thigh.
but when his warm, calloused hands finally cup your breasts gently?
you’re gone.
your grind even rougher against him. “ngh— ‘kuna!”
he fucking loves the way you moan his name.
he groans, thumbs brushing over your peaked nipples—watching you squirm with heat. “say my name again?”
your back arches into his touch as he pinches one gently between his rough fingers—and then leaning in to drag his tongue along the other before sucking hard enough to make you cry out.
“‘kuna! p-please!”
his hips jerk up involuntarily beneath you at that broken plea—your sweet sounds and the friction of you grinding your cunt his thigh almost too much for him too.
he pulls off with a wet pop and smiles down at where your sensitive tits are already swollen from his mouth. “fuckin’ beautiful… this all for me?”
“mhm!” you gasp, “all for you… please just—”
he cuts you off with a rough groan, pinching your nipple harder as he leans in to kiss the other one now, sucking until it’s peaked and puffy.
“hmmm? tell me,” he demands against your damp skin. “wanna hear you say it.”
your hips stutter, grinding faster on his thigh like a woman possessed—chasing that sweet friction while his hands and mouth work your chest.
“i- i wanna cum,” you sob out shamelessly, face burning but too far gone to care. “p-please let me cum…”
“fuckin’ hell,” he mutters—like you begging for him like this is ruining him faster than anything else could.
his hands slide down your body in one slow drag.
“c’mon,” he rasps darkly against your ear. “just take everything you want. use me.”
it wasn’t enough. you needed him to help. touch you—but you don’t want to admit that. you were close though. so close to cumming. you could feel it. perhaps you could do what he’s asking.
as if he can sense your internal debate, he encourages you again, “c’mon baby.”
so you finally do what your muddled brain tells you to.
you push him down onto his bed—you’re only able to do it because you catch him off guard. and then? you’re move to sit from his thigh to where his hard length is straining against his boxers.
sukuna groans.
it’s nasty. guttural. full of lust.
his eyes glazing over as he finally feels the heat of your cunt through the fabric of his wet boxers, onto his neglected cock.
he practically chokes—back arching off the bed as you grind down onto him.
“f-fuck!” his hands fly to your hips, grip bruising as he tries to stop you from moving again… but it’s too late.
the wet squelch of your cunt soaking through the fabric of his boxers stained in his precum is obscene—and so is how much more his cock swells, throbbing against you.
his face is twisted with pure agony when he looks up at you panting like a man who’s been starved.
the look on his face only spurs you on.
you reach for the hem of his sweatshirt, tugging, before he finally rips it off himself.
you immediately drool at the sight of him.
him underneath you in his muscled glory. cock twitching against your cunt. his pretty lips panting and his brows furrowed. it’s the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever seen in your life.
and you never want to stop seeing him like this.
fuck.
you’re getting greedy.
he looks up at you through lidded eyes, the intensity in them leaving you breathless. sukuna is completely at your mercy like this. he’s flushed red from the tips of his ears to his chest.
the thought of having this man so willingly beneath you, is dizzying. addictive.
you’re trembling with the urge to wreck him. make him cum.
you groan at the thought and roll your hips again—watching how his abs clench and a bead of sweat rolls down down down to his happy trail.
you’re practically drooling.
your tits are in his face now as you put your hands onto his chest to anchor yourself—but sukuna is only leaning onto his elbows to stuff himself between them—mouthing at the softness of your breasts and palming them.
you moan again, feeling his cock jerk against the constrains of his boxers.
and suddenly, you’re being hurled towards your orgasm.
you speed up every debauched grind against him, humping him like an animal in heat.
“g-gonna cum!”
he growls—lifting you up and off of him just enough to slap you and your practically see through panties back down onto his cock through the fabrics separating you. it’s almost as if you could be really riding him in that moment.
“do it,” he hisses. “wanna feel ya.”
your back bows as pleasure rips through you—eyes rolling back at the filthy sound of wetness soaking into his boxers while your body locks up in ecstasy.
you don’t even realize how hard you’re clenching around nothing until sukuna lets out a pained groan beneath you, hips jerking wildly like he’s chasing friction.
“fuck—”
his hold tightens on your waist as he forces you to continue humping him, chasing his own high.
“ohh! s’too much! ‘kuna!”
“haah—too much? fuck. shut up, baby…” he pants against your skin. “you feel too good… can’t stop.”
he’s a man on fire—hips stuttering almost embarrassingly as he grinds you down harder, his cock throbbing against your overly sensitive cunt, the fabrics between the two of you simply too soaked to be of use at this point.
your whimpers only make him lose it faster, hands squeezing your ass to keep you trapped in the mess of fabric and sweat between you both.
“you feel that? he rasps, dragging his nose up the column of your throat. “how bad i need you? how much i’m gonna ruin you and these pretty panties? how much they’re already ruined?”
you shake violently at the filthy words—body still pulsing from cumming and now dripping onto him.
he feels it. every gush and every aftershock.
your cunt still pulses from your orgasm when he drags you down to press a sloppy kiss onto your lips.
that kiss alone makes him snap. feeling your plush lips on his is what finally does him in.
he cums. hard. his cock twitching violently beneath you, leaking hot streaks into his boxers as pleasure rips through him.
he curses under his breath like it hurts—yet he’s shivering in delight because finally—finally he’s cumming with you after weeks of holding himself back.
“oh my god,” you whine as he finally stills, completely spent—face burning from the heat of the moment. your arms wrap around him, feeling the sweat against his flushed skin—and you slump forward to crash your lips back onto his.
his arms immediately circle you in a loose, tired hug as you both breathe heavily, trying to cool down.
after a long moment, you finally manage to breathe, enough to gather your thoughts and attempt to vocalize just how mind altering dry humping him was.
“that was... amazing.”
he hums—lazy and utterly satisfied, mouth twitching into a smile as he drags a hand up your back, pressing you tighter against his chest.
“damn right it was,” he mumbles into your hair, voice still rough.
his fingers trail down to grip the waistband of those soaked panties—giving them a slow tug just to hear you squeak. “aw… all ruined…”
you bury your face in his neck on instinct while sukuna chuckles darkly beneath you—the sound vibrating through where your bodies are still stuck together in the mess of cum and slick.
“we should get cleaned up, baby.”
you whine, snuggling into him more, eyelids suddenly heavy—sleepy already, just like the first time he had made you cum. “noooo… jus’ wanna stay here…” you mumble.
he pulls away slightly at that, just to look at your cute face.
he pats your backside, “nuh uh. you’ll yell at me tomorrow for bein’ unhygienic. come on, baby,” he murmurs as he lifts you up off him.
he picks you up, strong arms lifting you like you weigh nothing and carries you to the bathroom, kicking the door open before setting you down on the counter.
you’re too sleepy and much too content as he cleans you up like the gentleman he is. you end up completely forgetting why you were stressed out and at his dorm in the first place.
—
well… that is until the next morning when you scold him for letting you fall asleep—you could have gotten more studying in if it weren’t for him!
alas, he quizzes you on shit he has no clue about, just to make up for it. supposedly.
baratheonpilled
ellievsbear
titsay
stormborns
