synopsis: you have the hots for your tattoo artist
content: 18+, explicit language, mentions of needles (tattoo related), reader is horny, unprofessional behavior, dirty talk, pet names, p in v, creampie
wc: 2.5k
a/n: put my artist onto jjk (i showed her all of the men) during my appointment yesterday and she said Geto was her fave <333333
art by @/thatsallitchief
You step into the clean, minimalist shop. Plants are hanging from the ceiling and growing in pots, the gentle sound of music reverberates through the building, and the natural light from the high windows filters in.
It’s nice and cozy, the decorations are tasteful, and you notice each artist has their own station decorated with their personal style.
You sit on the velvet couch at the front, filling out a waiver as you wait for your appointment to start. You were getting a simple piece, something to fill in the blank spot on your forearm.
The artist you booked had the exact style you were going for, not to mention their work was amazing and they came highly recommended. It was an easy choice when you decided to move forward with them, paying your deposit as you counted down the days until you could finally sit in the chair again, feeling the needle against your skin.
It wasn’t until after you booked your appointment, when you mentioned it to a few friends that you discovered the artist you booked was a man, which was no problem at all, except for the fact he was absolutely drop dead gorgeous.
You remember your friends pulling up his personal social media account and you decided as you scrolled, it would be better to pass away than to sit in a chair silently for hours while he tattooed you.
But of course, your friends wouldn’t allow that, you had to report back all of your findings, after all.
So you waited silently after finishing your form, heart pumping as you fiddled with your bag, making sure you had your headphones and water for the thousandth time.
You were mindlessly scrolling on your phone when the honeyed voice of Suguru Geto came from behind you, your name never sounded better than when he said it.
You stood, offering him a polite smile, trying to hide your nerves. He gestured for you to follow, your heart racing as you studied him. Half of his dark hair was pulled back into a bun, a single strand of bangs falling in front of his eyes. His outfit was casual, a black band t-shirt, baggy jeans, and a pair of sneakers. He was relaxed, completely opposite of you, as he led you towards the side of the large room.
The shop was pretty empty today and you couldn’t decide if you were grateful for that or not.
He stopped at the station on the far wall, you took note of his small knicknacks. He had a few figurines, some you recognized, like No Face from Spirited Away and some you didn’t recognize at all. He had some pictures with who you guessed were his friends. There was one person who appeared in almost all of them, he had an entire head of white hair and was almost as gorgeous as Geto.
“You can set your things down there,” his calm voice broke you out of your nosiness. “I printed a few sizes so we can mess with the placement, but feel free to check out the design and let me know if you want any changes.”
You set your things on the small table next to a folding chair, shrugging your jacket off before picking up one of the cutouts resting on the tattoo chair. It was perfect, exactly what you wanted.
“The design is great,” your voice came out softer than you liked. You took a breath and forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, holding the cutout against your skin. You grabbed one of the smaller sizes, walking towards the mirror as you held it, twisting your arm to see if you liked the placement.
“May I?” He asked, stepping beside you as he gestured to the paper, the scent of spicy sandalwood and musk engulfing you. You nodded, silently handing it to him. He started playing with the angles, “If we angle it like this we could do the larger one, if you wanted.”
You hummed, noticing how much space was left if you used the smaller size, “Let’s see what it looks like.”
He grabbed the cutout, holding it against you, trailing his finger across the line work. Despite the barrier between your skin, his touch was electric.
“See how it tucks right in here. I think it meshes well with your other pieces too,” he commented.
“Yeah, definitely, I think that size is the one,” you nodded, when you met his indigo colored eyes, you quickly looked away.
“I’ll get a stencil printed and we can see it on the skin,” he stepped past you towards a work room, disappearing behind a door as you sat down on the small folding chair.
You counted your breaths, begging yourself to lock the fuck in. He’s a professional and you’re a client. You were acting like you’d never been around a guy before.
Except this guy was easily the hottest you’d ever seen. He was tall, covered in tattoos, had good style, and took care of his hair, which seemed like not a lot to ask for as you thought it through. You chalked it up to the fact he smelled divine and had the sexiest voice you’d ever heard. It was just those two things messing with your brain.
You took your headphones out of your bag, setting them on the table as you forced yourself to do something besides think of him, as you waited.
When he came back, he asked for you to stand in front of the mirror, “Relax your arm for me.”
You did as he asked as he shaved you before prepping your skin for the stencil. When he placed it on you, you waited patiently for his fingers to leave your skin. They didn’t, of course, because he had to press it down, making sure each part of it touched your skin.
“Check it out, let me know what you think,” he peeled it off, heading towards the trash as you twisted your arm around in the mirror.
“I love it,” you commented, keeping your eyes on the mirror as you studied the piece on your skin.
“Good, go ahead and sit down, I’ve got a bit more to prep and then we’ll get started,” his back was turned to you as he grabbed his ink bottles, glide, and needles.
You were acting so weird, you just knew he could tell how nervous you were, but still acted kindly towards you. You hoped he figured you were nervous about getting the tattoo, and not him. You sat down on the chair, realizing he would never think you were nervous about the tattoo considering your tank top revealed all the pieces you had on your upper body. Well, most of them.
You placed one earbud in, putting on your comfort playlist as you waited for your fate.
He sat in his chair, gliding over to you, everything prepped as he looked at you, “Ready?”
“Ready,” you nodded.
The first touch of the needle against your skin was hell. Not because it hurt, but because this gorgeous man was inflicting pain on you and your body had a fucked up way of reacting to pain.
You could feel your whole body flush as you stared up at the ceiling, trying to pretend it was someone else doing your tattoo. The part of you that enjoyed suffering didn’t let you look away for long, you glanced down at him, watching as his face remained steady and focused.
God he was so good looking. There wasn’t a word for it, hot, pretty, gorgeous, each lacked something when it came to him. Gorgeous was the best out of them all, but you could imagine how hot he would be angled over you as he whispered praises in your ear.
You looked away quickly, face warm as you grabbed your phone and opened up TikTok, letting the mindless scrolling block out everything around you.
The first break you took you quickly went to the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror and silently repeating that he’s a professional, and you’re being feral as someone does their job.
Luckily you were halfway done by this point, your self control was fraying as those last couple of hours droned on and on.
When it finally came time for the whites, you were practically bursting out of the chair at the increase in pain. Whites were always rougher than regular black, but it was a different kind of torture as Suguru Geto worked the needle across your skin.
By the time he took pictures and wrapped you up, you were ready to sprint for the door the moment you were done paying him. Until he stopped you, closing his hand around your wrist.
He glanced around the shop, it was empty except for the two of you, everyone finished up and left as the sun faded away, “I- uh, don’t normally do this, or ever for that matter, but can I get your number?”
You blinked slowly at him, replaying his words over in your mind as you struggled to process them.
“I’m sorry, that was-” he let go of your wrist, his widening eyes the only betrayal to his emotions.
“Are you serious?” Your brows were furrowed as you studied him.
“Ouch,” he laughed lightly, crossing his arms.
“No! That’s not- that’s not what I meant,” you were twisting the rings on your fingers as you met his eyes. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”
“You weren’t?” The corner of his mouth twitched as he held your eye contact. “I find that hard to believe.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You narrowed your eyes at him, gaining some of your confidence back.
“It means I could practically hear the thoughts in your head the entire time, you’re not exactly nonchalant,” he stepped closer to you, forcing you to look up at him. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he murmured, glancing at your lips.
“You’re not,” you whispered, losing yourself in the deep depths of his eyes.
“Thought so,” he hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before he traced your jaw with his fingers. “You gonna let me have your number, pretty girl?”
-
-
-
“Fuckkkk,” he groaned in your ear, slowly pushing his thick cock inside your soaking cunt. “Fuck- let me in sweetheart.”
Your nails were digging into his back as he stretched you impossibly wide. His long hair falling softly over his shoulders as you writhed beneath him, “Geto- you’re too big.”
You words caught in your throat as he slammed himself inside of you, his pelvis slapping against your hips as he bottomed out. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer to you.
His words were rough near your ear, “I told you what to call me, and it wasn’t that.”
“Suguru,” you whined, meeting his eyes, your gaze apologetic.
“There you go, sweetheart,” he cooed as he stayed completely still, tracing his fingers down your face before cupping your jaw. “That wasn’t so hard was it?”
“No, it wasn’t,” your voice was quiet as you watched him, waiting for him to move his hips.
He pressed his lips softly against yours, moving his mouth as he slowly stroked his tongue against yours. His hand moved from your jaw down your body, gently tweaking your nipple before settling between your legs. The first swipes of his fingers against your clit had you moaning and bucking your hips, searching for what you craved.
He broke your kiss, tsking, “I set the pace, you just lay there and look pretty, okay?”
You nodded, grabbing his face and bringing it closer to yours, desperate to kiss him again. He let you pull him down, stopping just before your lips touched, issuing a gentle command that had you obeying immediately, “Open.”
You opened your mouth watching as he let his spit slowly drip into your mouth as he rubbed gentle circles around your clit. When you clenched around him, more slick rushing between your legs, his breath hitched.
“Need something?” His voice was strained as he pressed his mouth to your neck, sucking and biting your most sensitive spots.
“I need you,” your words were breathless as he worked his mouth and fingers against you.
“You sure about that?” He murmured, nibbling softly on your ear.
“Yes,” you tried and failed to buck your hips as he settled more weight onto you, holding you still.
His face was hovering over yours, his pupils blown out as he stared down at you, “Beg for it.”
“Please, Suguru,” one of your hands drifted into his hair, the other curved around his back. “Please fuck me, please-”
He slowly rolled his hips back before slowly sinking back into you.
“Pleasepleaseplease-”
“You sound so pretty when you beg for my cock,” he settled both hands behind your knees, pulling your legs up higher, before pressing them into the mattress as he began to finally thrust.
Your hand in his hair tightened, yanking his face to your as you shoved your tongue into his mouth. He greedily swallowed your moans, letting your tongue sloppily work against his as he slowly sped up.
The stretch was mind numbing, his length hitting every sensitive spot inside you every time he rolled his hips back and forth. You broke the kiss, gasping for air as you moaned.
“Your pretty pussy is taking me so well,” he groaned, slamming into you roughly. “Like it was made for me.”
“Yes- Suguru- so good,” you could barely form words as his cock bullied every part of your poor pussy. You threw your head back, the pleasure overwhelming as you felt yourself getting closer to release.
“Gonna cum soon,” he warned, one his hands drifting between you again, finding your clit and rubbing maddening circles over it as he continued increasing the pace of his thrusts. “Where do you want it, pretty?”
“Oh god-” you choked out as he hit the deepest part of you, his circles against your clit growing harsher and harsher.
“Trust me, god isn’t here sweetheart, now answer the question,” he spoke through gritted teeth, his fingers working you roughly as you clenched around him.
“In me please, cum in me,” your words came out of you helplessly, your mind completely empty except for your approaching ecstasy.
“Such a sweet girl,” he murmured. “Now cum for me,” the moment he pinched your clit you exploded.
You cried out, your moans filling the room as your orgasm rushed through you. Your pussy was convulsing around him, completely at his mercy as he fucked you through every last wave of pleasure.
“Fuck,” his thrusts were erratic and fast as he buried his head in your neck.
“Suguru, cum in me,” you whined.
He came with a startled grunt, thick white ropes of cum filling you up so perfectly. His cock twitching as he slowly rolled his hips against you, working every last drop of cum out.
His body collapsed on top of yours, pinning your legs against you as you ran your fingers through his hair, his cum leaking out of your pussy and onto the bed.
You’d definitely have to leave out a few details when you told your friends about him.
a/n: don't fuck your tattoo artist, i did once 0/10 do not recommend
your nerdy husband helping you and your daughter with her math homework (requested!!) 𑣲 .✦ ݁˖ ۶ৎ
husband!megumi fushiguro x f!reader, girl dad megumi, probably ooc i’m sorry😓, megumi has glasses, fluff | wc 1.5k
"...um...so now what?"
you're sat at the kitchen table, half slumped over in your seat and exhausted from the past half-hour of helping or trying to help your daughter with her math homework. if you’re honest, you’re not even sure if you can call it helping. between the heavy flipping through your daughter's textbooks and the scattered mess of sheets across the table, the two of you have solved an embarrassingly small number of questions, and it's clear you're both at the end of your tether.
your daughter glances up at you, expression half-incredulous before bursting into complaint.
"why are you asking me what to do? you're supposed to be the one helping me!"
you chew at your lip in frustration. sure, maybe you're not that big of a math enthusiast but surely you have to have it in you to be able to do this level of math at least, you reason with yourself.
with a quick sigh, you pull your chair closer to the table to get a better look at the equation once more.
"...okay. so...maybe try multiply the root out...and then um...you should get….." you trail off. it’s obvious by now that you’re totally lost. that results in a wail from your daughter as she buries her face in her hands, a few stray sheets falling to the floor in the process.
“…what are you both doing up so late at night?”
you look up, and for the first time today, you think maybe there finally is some hope for your daughter to complete her math homework.
the hope himself — megumi fushiguro — is stood in the doorway, his expression unimpressed as he stares at you both through his glasses, taking in the chaos. textbooks are scattered haphazardly, worksheets and pages discarded and your daughter is currently half on the verge of tears.
unfortunately enough for your poor husband, this is definitely not an uncommon sight for him. in fact, it’s become a sort of routine for you and your daughter — every sunday evening, no fail, you both manage to wind up in the exact same situation.
it isn’t like you aren’t both aware of the issue, either. he’s scolded you both countless times, his features stern as ever as he’d lectured you on the importance of not procrastinating. but as always, his lecture seems not to have gotten through to either of you.
megumi simply sighs, too tired to even question it this time, before making his way to the table. you gratefully slip out of your seat so that he can take your place next to his daughter, allowing you to stand back and watch him. he reaches over the table to organise the mess of sheets and workbooks into a neat pile before picking up the pen.
it’s cute, really, and you can’t help but bite back a smile at the sight: your husband leaning over the worksheet, brows pinched in careful concentration and his slender hand moving fluidly over the paper as he demonstrates how to solve the next question, and to his left, your daughter, her own expression equally as serious as she tries to keep up.
you try — and fail — to stifle a tiny pleased sound at the sight, causing megumi to turn and raise a brow at you, unamused.
“what are you doing? sit, you need to pay attention too.” megumi taps the table, nudging his head in the direction of the seat opposite him. “how else are you going to help her next time?”
“…me? but can’t you just do it next time, megs?”
he looks up from the equation he’s solving to throw you an unimpressed look.
“okay, fiiine.” you huff out before sliding into the seat opposite him.
with your head resting against your palm, you watch as he works through the equations, his voice low and brows pinched in concentration as he explains each step to your daughter. it’s sweet, and you can’t help but cherish the evenings spent like this. not to mention, despite all his grumbling, you can tell that megumi likes the domesticity of it all too.
-
he’s always been like that — enjoying chores and seeing no problem in sitting through tedious tasks, never uttering a complaint. you’d teased him at first, finding it hilarious when he confessed that he actually looked forward to doing chores with you, solving the sudoku whilst curled up on the couch, or even just studying.
the first time the topic came up, you’d been washing the dishes with him stood by your side, neatly wiping them dry and placing them on the counter. you’d nudged him teasingly, throwing a quick glance in his direction.
“you know, megs, you’re such a workaholic sometimes..”
“…how so?”
“you always seem so content when we do chores or boring tasks. it’s almost creepy you know.” you had mumbled, looking up from the dishes once more to study his expression. he seemed unbothered by the observation, but you could see the way his mouth was just slightly parted, as though wordlessly questioning your words. “not to mention,” you continued, “i’ve never met somebody who enjoys solving math equations for fun until i met you.”
he didn’t reply, simply dropping his gaze back to the plate he’d been wiping before humming quietly in acknowledgment.
“if i didn’t know gojo, i’d have assumed he was reaaally strict with you as a kid, but we both know that’s definitely not true…” you trailed off — it had been just last week when satoru had visited and had absolutely spoilt your daughter upon coming to visit you both, after all.
after some quiet deliberation, megumi finally decided to speak up, voice softer than usual.
“…i guess it’s just nice to have a routine. it’s a nice change from all the chaos.”
you had smiled at that, studying your husband’s face once more.
“hm, yeah. i guess you’re right, megs.”
-
finally, megumi finishes explaining the last of the homework questions. your daughter jump ups from her seat with a relieved expression, holding up the worksheet and looking over it with a pleased expression.
meanwhile megumi stretches, cracking his neck and allowing his eyes to flutter shut for a second as he lifts his head towards the ceiling. you study the way his lashes graze his cheek slightly as he inhales before bringing himself to sit upright once more. he turns to face you and your daughter once more.
“next time,” he murmurs pointedly, tone firm but not harsh, “don’t save your work until sunday evening, okay?”
you both nod, though all three of you know that his words have definitely fallen on deaf ears as always.
megumi watches your daughter rush upstairs to get ready for bed before he finally lets himself relax a fraction, yawning and placing his head onto the desk. you stay sat in the seat opposite him, allowing your hands to run over the dark tufts and spikes of his hair before carefully lifting his glasses from his head, placing them on the table next to him.
“megs, you’re going to break your glasses like that.” you murmur softly, voice gentle and expression concerned. your eyes graze over his slumped form, the way the stray spikes of hair cling to the nape of his neck and the tired slump of his shoulders. “do you want me to make you some tea..?”
he shakes his head no before lifting his head once more, watching you through half-bleary eyes. he tries to rub the sleepiness away, attempting to focus on your face as best as he can without his glasses on as you frown at the glass lenses, trying to rub them clean with a cloth. you’d never really noticed just how dirty they’d gotten, and of course megumi being megumi, he’d probably never even considered taking the time to look after himself instead of others.
so you take it upon yourself to offer him this simple act of care, hands steady as you rub the glass clean in circular motions.
you both sit like that in silence for a short while longer, with you still gently cleaning his glasses lenses as he sits sleepily, cheek pressed against his hand as he watches you.
you eventually decide to speak, your voice tentative.
“seriously, though…thank you, megumi.”
he blinks at that, a little thrown off-guard, and for once the usual stoic expression seems to melt into something slightly softer.
“…it’s…nothing.” he sighs, sitting up and scratching his neck. “like i said though…next time, try not to leave it so late.”
you stifle a tiny giggle at that.
“…yeah, yeah — i won’t.”
you both know that isn’t true, but megumi decides not to comment on it. he’s completely content with things as they are, anyway.
author’s notes: agh i’m so sorry for taking SOO long to write this req but i enjoyed writing about nerd megumi & i loved the idea of him having glasses too so thank you!!
also i’m sorry that this is a little ooc💔 i tried ahh
taglist!
divider creds @/dividers-are-us and @/cursed-carmine!
synopsis. satoru is a bonafide genius. he’s got the perfect transcript and ten-year plan to prove it. he knows how to keep his head down and avoid the chaos his twin thrives in. so when the unofficial frat princess sets her sights on him, he knows there’s a catch. he just doesn’t figure out what it is until he’s already fallen for her
pairing. nerd! satoru gojo x popular! fem! reader. ✶ contents. sfw! college + gojo twins au ⇢ fratjo’s called souta. cw. alcohol consumption , i mean it’s a frat party. mentions of ex bf! toji + reader’s colorful dating history + therapy. charas may be a little ooc. sexual entitlement as college guys suck ˖ ࣪ . ࿐
you’ve never been in love. you’re thoroughly aware of the concept – how it makes people feel, how it shapes the universe in its hands and weaves strings of fate together – but you’ve never experienced it. not really.
not in the way people describe it in rom coms, ballads, and new york times best sellers. you’ve felt affection, certainly, in friendships and the bond that ties you to your parents despite their many flaws, in fleeting attraction that makes your heart beat a little faster. but true love ? the notion of it has never crossed your path. rather, it seems to hesitate, look both ways and dejectedly retreat to toeing the sidewalk.
you’ve watched your friends fall in love time and time again. you’ve dated people – your high school prom date, who tasted like spearmint and entitlement and tried to feel you up in the back of his dad’s bentley, summer flings that fizzled out and faded into nothing – but you’ve never been in love.
you keep people at arm’s length. you gravitate towards guys like toji who are just as emotionally unavailable as you are. who don’t actually care about you. who only see you when it’s convenient for them, when they think their persistence might finally tear your walls down.
they always, eventually, give up. they grow tired of playing the cat and mouse game, and toji is no exception. he was the most patient – you’ll give him that – he’s lasted longer than the others. but even his patience has its expiry date.
you tell yourself it’s because men are shallow and they only want one thing – a notion you’re positive has been scientifically proven – but a quieter, insidious part of you wonders if there’s something wrong with you. if there’s something missing that prevents you from connecting with people in that way. if you’re so scared of being used that you’ve forgotten how to let yourself be wanted.
tonight, the little voice in the back of your mind is not-so-little. not-so-quiet. you can hear it over the music blaring from the speakers – despite it being loud enough to rattle the oak floorboards and absorb the laughter erupting from every corner of the frat house.
souta’s fraternity throws the best parties on campus. that isn’t even up for debate, psi bau’s been famous for its ragers since the beginning of time. or at least that’s what the super seniors swear by.
if a party’s happening on a friday night, it’s here.
where bodies press together beneath flashing lights. the scents of cologne, fruit punch, and beer linger in the air. and red solo cups litter every flat surface. a psi bau party ™ is exactly what you need after toji fushiguro dumped you, very publicly, for a sorority girl.
the aftermath of your split tastes like cheap vodka and dregs of regret. sour and acrid on your tongue.
psi bau has enough alcohol to numb the prickle in your spine from the people staring at you. but it doesn’t have enough liquor to dull the subtle ache in your chest.
it’s an ache that persists despite the fact that you’re not even remotely heartbroken. you’re never invested enough for that. you weren’t in love with toji. not even close. what you’re feeling is something else entirely.
irritation. you’re irritated. irritated at the way eyes follow you with morbid curiosity, waiting for you to shatter. irritated by the whispers trailing after you from the kitchen to the living room. irritated, because your time’s been wasted. again.
“did you hear ? he already took someone else upstairs. poor thing”
‘poor thing ??’ please. you lean against the beer pong table and stare the girl down. she quickly pretends to be very interested in the contents of her solo cup.
you adjust the hem of your top and let your face settle into something more indifferent. across the room, toji emerges with the brunette in greek letters tucked under his arm like an accessory. she giggles, looking extremely pleased with herself. how cute.
“ignore them” shoko says, brows furrowing as she follows your line of sight, “he’s not worth it, and she certainly isn’t either”
you turn away, the sight of toji and his new plaything is less painful than the concern etched across shoko’s features. you don’t want her concern, you want another drink.
“sugu can you make me another dirty shirley ?” you sigh, fingers brushing against his as you hand him your empty solo cup, “please. and make it strong , i can’t deal with this sober”
“anything for our ‘unofficial frat princess’” he grins, disappearing off into the kitchen before you can throw anything at him
utahime shifts closer to you, her shoulder bumping yours “so what exactly happened with toji earlier ?”
you swallow. you could tell them about the argument you had in his car. about him calling you a prick tease because you still wouldn’t have sex with him – in your defense, you didn’t have to, and you certainly wouldn’t be getting it on in psi bau’s parking lot – or you could avoid another pity party. you choose the latter, “it’s really nothing, he wanted me to rush his sister sorority”
shoko lets out a snort, “you ? join a sorority ?”
“exactly” you scoff, “he wanted me to fully commit to being his plus-one at all the boring philanthropy events. he wasn’t very thrilled when i told him i’d rather shit in my hands and clap”
“that’s not grounds for a break up. . what are we ?twelve ?” shoko sneers, “i knew his ego was fragile but holy shit that’s pathetic”
“it wasn’t just about frats and sororities though” you add, weaving a half-truth into the lie “the fight started because he has some bizarre issue with my friendship with suguru”
“what a hypocrite” utahime says dryly, “he hangs out with his exes too and he was hooking up with half the girls in that stupid sorority every time you two were ‘on a break’”
you nod, “he was, but i couldn’t care less, it was never that deep”
shoko watches you over the rim of her solo cup “it’s never ‘that deep’ with you”
you frown slightly. “that’s not true”
“for someone who’s got history with like half the guys in this frat—”
“it was all casual” you interject sharply
“—suguru, souta, toji, and what was it . .? like three athletes ?”
“it was two actually” you correct, your jaw tight
she waves her hand dismissively, “have you ever been in healthy, fully-committed relationship ? ”
you open your mouth, a protest ready on your lips, and close it just as quickly. you have nothing tangible to say.
utahime presses, her voice softer “have you ever allowed anyone to be in love with you ?”
the music seems to recede, the thumping bass replaced by the erratic thudding of your heart. suguru hands you your dirty shirley. you thank him absentmindedly.
“well ?” shoko prompts, arms crossed over her chest
“well, stop interrogating me” you retort, taking a drawn out sip from your crimson solo cup. rum and sickly sweet grenadine seep over your tongue. “i could make anyone at this party fall in love with me if i actually wanted them to”
utahime nearly chokes on her drink “righttt. . . ”
“wanna bet?” you grit your teeth, “i could have anyone wrapped around my finger in like . . ten days”
silence falls around your little circle. shoko and utahime exchange a look that’s a mix of disbelief and intrigue.
“aren’t we too old for stupid bets ?” suguru splutters
“i’m not too old for anything” you scowl, “because i’m quite sick of you guys acting like i’m hard to love”
“are you serious. . .” shoko says, it’s more of statement than a question
“oh, i’m dead serious” you reply, a smile playing on your lips “ten days. . or less. i’ll have someone head-over-heels in love with me before you can say six-seven”
“you’ll get bored by day three and start looking for an out that doesn’t involve hurting their feelings, which will obviously hurt their feelings even more” utahime murmurs
“i’m not the one who gets bored” you scoff
“regardless, it’s a terrible idea” suguru groans, dragging a hand through his dark hair, “it might be your worst one yet, and that’s saying something.”
“if i win” you continue, eyes gleaming as you look at each of them in turn, “i get to use suguru’s car for a month. and you” you point at suguru, “are going to campaign for me. i want to be psi bau’s princess”
suguru looks physically ill. “my car ?! you drive like you have nine lives. . and you hate greek life ! isn’t that the reason why you and toji–”
“semantics” you cut him off, “imagine the look on toji’s face when he has to attend a meeting about me”
“i thought you didn’t care about toji” shoko raises a brow
“i don’t, but i love being petty” you say, “if i don’t get someone to fall in love with me then i’ll just stay away from guys for a bit. happy ? ”
shoko shakes her head, “you’re gonna stay away from guys for the rest of the year”
you groan, dragging a hand down your face, “that’s insane i’m only using the car for a month”
“three months then” suguru counters, “no dating and absolutely no stupid situationships”
“fine” you agree, perhaps a little too quickly, “but if i have to be a chud, i want your car for three months too, not just one and i’m not paying for your gas”
“fine” he groans, “but for the love of everything holy don’t crash my baby”
“oh, and no flirting with anyone if you lose” shoko adds, “if you’re looking at a guy for more than ten seconds, it counts”
you sigh, glancing back across the room. toji’s disappeared with the brunette again. “fine”
“okay” shoko says, leaning against the sticky beer pong table. her expression is solemn, like this is a board meeting rather than a frat party, “glad we’re all on the same page. pick your next victim”
you roll your eyes but you let your gaze sweep across the room. your vision swims throughout the sea of jocks, frat boys, and stoners.
“shiu ?” utahime suggests, “he’s not that bad”
“toji’s best friend ? absolutely fucking not.” shoko shoots that down immediately, “they’re practically the same person”
“not nanami” you murmur, spotting the tall blond man near the staircase, “we’ve got too many mutual friends,”
“ryomen ?” utahime offers, nodding towards the left side of the living room
sukuna is leaning against the wall, looking like he’s allergic to joy. you wrinkle your nose, “hard pass. he’s literally unc and he hates everything and everyone,”
“choso ?”
“absolutely not” you laugh, “yuki would never speak to me again”
“higuruma ?”
you shake your head, “he’s pre-law, he’d figure it out almost immediately, and we have so many classes together. it’s not worth it”
“been there, also been there. plus souta hates me”
“see ?” utahime says, gesturing vaguely at the collegiate crowd “everyone here knows you and your track record. you’ve already lost the bet”
your lips part, ready to argue but then you see him. and the words die on your tongue
across the room souta weaves through the crowd like he owns the place. his toned arm is slung over someone who looks like a carbon-copy of him. same snow-white hair. same bright blue eyes. same looming height. but where souta is all loose shoulders, cocky smiles, and chaos, this guy is . . . the exact opposite. his jaw is clenched and he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. cute
“toru c’mon” souta’s laughter carries over the music, “just one shot ! you’ve been doomscrolling that stupid interview script for hours”
“it’s not stupid” his twin snaps, adjusting his glasses with an irritated flick as they slide down his nose. “i have to prepare, the first round is tomorrow and i don’t want to smell like tequila during the selection process”
“you’re basically already dead inside, what’s a little liver damage ? ” souta groans, “live a little !”
“i’d rather live responsibly. unlike you”
“i’m plenty responsible” souta mumbles, but he finally gives up, throwing his hands in the air before slinking off to the kitchen. his twin retreats to the wall right across the beer pong table, completely out of place. he pulls out his phone, the screen’s blue glare reflects off his lenses.
“i didn’t know souta had a twin” you muse, setting your solo cup down on the edge of the beer pong table. a drop of your dirty shirley trickles down your knuckle. you absentmindedly lick it away. your friends follow your gaze across the room.
“uhh you had a thing with souta freshman year” shoko sighs, “how the hell don’t you know ?”
“souta and i never did much talking” you shrug, unable to tear your eyes away from the wallflower “so what’s the deal with his brother ?”
“that’s satoru” utahime quips, “the ‘other’ gojo. the one who actually uses his brain. he’s here on a full-ride even though their family’s filthy rich. perfect gpa, founder of the campus coding club and head of the debate team. your typical overachiever”
you study him as he frowns at whatever is on his screen. “he’s kind of cute” you admit, biting back a genuine smile.
“no” suguru says immediately, cadence firm and rigid “absolutely not, don’t even think about”
“please” shoko snorts into her drink, “you’ll have him questioning every single one of his life choices in seconds ”
“what ?” you whirl around to face them, arching a brow defensively “why the hell are you guys acting like i’m some evil man-eater ?”
“because” suguru says slowly, gesturing to where satoru stands, “that is souta’s identical twin brother”
“i’m aware of the concept of twins, suguru” you scoff, narrowing your eyes at him, “i’m not that stupid”
“and you” he continues, undeterred “are you.”
“what the hell is that supposed to mean ?”
“it means” utahime says, soft brown eyes pouring into yours, “you suck at relationships. you always end up really hurting people. and we know you don’t mean to–”
“i don’t suck at relationships” you huff defensively, folding your arms over your chest, “and i haven’t actually hurt anyone”
“you went out with souta for three weeks” suguru points out, “and then he spent the rest of the semester listening to juice wrld and xxxtentacion”
“we wanted different things !” you insist, though the memory of souta’s wounded puppy-dog eyes after you ghosted him flashes in your mind
“he wanted a girlfriend” utahime deadpans. “you wanted someone to go to parties with”
“and toji ?” shoko presses, “let’s not even get started on the last couple of months”
“toji doesn’t count.” you retort, “he’s a walking red flag ! he’s the one who’s avoidant. not me”
“i don’t think your therapist would agree with that statement” suguru snickers, “speaking of, when last did you see her because i think you should have a session as soon as possible”
( frankly, your therapist wouldn’t agree with any of this. she’d never approved of your love life anyway )
“okay, that’s enough” you look away before the irritation crawling up your spine can show on your face. you can’t believe this. your own friends, painting you as some heartless siren. it’s beyond insulting
( heaven forbid a girl isn’t the best at romance )
“look” suguru says, his tone softening as he follows your gaze back to satoru, “satoru isn’t like the guys you usually go for”
“and that’s the understatement of the century” shoko adds, “unlike the rest of these meatheads, he doesn’t care about popularity, or parties. hell, he barely cares about anyone who isn’t in the honors college.”
“he’ll be impossible to wrap around your finger” utahime agrees, “you didn’t even know he existed five minutes ago. plus, you’re literally polar opposites. you like partying. he likes engineering. it would never work”
across the room, satoru shifts against the wall. his discomfort is blatant even from a distance. someone tries to hand him a red solo cup and he declines with a barely perceptible shake of his head, his blue eyes never leaving his phone. he’s completely unimpressed by everything around him
you watch him a beat too long before murmuring, “exactly” you lower your cup slowly, glossy lips curving into a smile
shoko narrows her eyes suspiciously, “exactly what ?”
“exactly why it has to be him” you say, “the whole point of the bet isn’t to prove i can make some jock or frat boy fall for me. it’s to prove that i can make anyone fall in love with me. what’s the point of an easy win ?”
suguru lets out a long, pained groan “oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me”
“you said he’d be impossible” you continue, your gaze drifting back to satoru. your target is typing out something with an admirable degree of focus, thumbs flying across his sceen. his brows are slightly furrowed and his lips are pressed into a thin line. he exhales slowly, as if he’s counting down the seconds until he can leave.
“well, i think i’ll have him hooked in ten days” you grin
suguru pinches the bridge of his nose, “i’d rather call the bet off and let you drive my car for free”
“why ?” you ask, completely perplexed, “what’s the big deal ?”
“the big deal” suguru says, lowering his voice to a whisper, “is that satoru is actually a really good guy. and if you make him fall for you because of this stupid bet and whatever issues you still haven’t resolved in therapy and souta finds out. . . he won’t just be mad at you. he’ll murder me.”
“relax sugu” you murmur, “it’s pretty harmless. if he doesn’t fall for me, you guys are right and i’ll take a break from guys. if he does fall for me i’ll be with a good guy for once – which nitta will love! it sounds like a win-win to me”
utahime squints at you, “you’re not actually going to date him”
“why not ?” you counter, “he’s smart, he’s cute, and – no offence sugu – he’s definitely an upgrade from all my exes”
“because by all accounts satoru gojo is the most nerdy, boring person on this campus” shoko insists bluntly, “and you get bored very easily”
“i don’t get bored easily” you frown, “and i don’t appreciate this mischaracterization from my so-called best friends”
“that’s beside the point” utahime interjects, “a relationship built on deceit is good for nothing . .”
“i’m begging you” suguru pleads, digging his fingers into his temple, “just pick someone else”
you’re not sure if this impulsive decision stems from the liquor thrumming beneath your skin, or your infinite insecurities. but your mind is completely made up.
your gaze drifts back to satoru again. his eyes lift from his phone for a moment – sweeping across the room, passing over you like you’re just another person getting drunk by the beer pong table – before returning to the illuminated screen in his hand. you don’t even exist to him
“see ?” utahime says pointedly beside you, “he didn’t even notice you !”
you smile thoughtfully, you’ve never had to chase anyone before. you’ve never wanted to try, you’ve never had to but . . “now, i want this even more”
“that is the worst possible thing you could’ve said” suguru inhales sharply, “i’m a dead man, souta’s going to kill me . . .”
“he’s going to kill all of us” utahime sighs, “shoko, why the hell would you entertain this ?”
“i just asked a simple question, don’t throw me under the bus” shoko says, holding her hands up defensively, “ we, yes we, are all responsible for this”
satoru gojo stands by the wall, blissfully unaware that he’s just become the center of your very bad idea. he’s the only person who hasn’t looked at you twice tonight. and you are very determined to change that.
masterlist day zero ⇆ day one
── .✦ mimi’s notes: first chapter everybody twerk! going on the record to say that this series is nothing like the movie but i don’t wanna spill too much ( wink wink )
Suguru was always the jealous type, he was oddly patient about it though. He had a way of waiting until everything was exactly where he could see it, exactly where it belonged before he unleashed his silent fury. Tonight was the perfect example.
You were at a bar with friends, the kind of place that always felt a little too loud in the best way—music thumping through the walls, laughter ricocheting off glasses, everyone caught up in the warmth of the night. Suguru was with you, close enough to feel, relaxed enough to look harmless. You were only two drinks in when it happened.
A tall, sable-haired man approached. He didn’t loom like a threat; he came in smiling, bright and easy, like he already belonged in your orbit. His compliments were smooth, his flattery practiced, his questions delivered with the confidence of someone who expected answers.
You were courteous. You gave him the kind of simple, straightforward reactions people gave when they didn’t want to cause a scene. You answered his prodding questions—nothing complicated, nothing sharp—just enough to keep the conversation going without inviting trouble.
And all the while, you didn’t notice the way Suguru’s patience stretched a little thinner, like a thread being pulled slowly until it finally started to threaten snapping.
“What’s your name?” You asked him, “Choso…” he responded, flashing you a bright smile that seared into your eyelids. You could feel them. The pair of seething eyes on you. You shivered slightly and the raven haired man immediately said “you cold? Here— my jacket,” and draped over your bare shoulders his leather jacket.
You turned your head just enough to see Suguru reflected in the bar's dark glass windows.
He wasn't loud. He wasn't storming over. He wasn't moving.
That was what made it worse.
Suguru's smile; if it could even be called that, didn't reach his eyes, his soft crows feet not visible. He stayed where he was with your friends, drink halfway to his mouth, and watched you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Like whoever had approached you had just stepped onto a line he'd drawn.
The tall sable-haired man, leaned in again, too cheerful, too quick with his words.
"So," he said, bright as a blade, "you warmer now?" You swallowed. "I'm fine." "Mm." His grin widened. "You don't sound fine."
“Seriously I’m good, you can take this jacket back—“ you murmured as you slipped it off your body, and handed it back to him. Before you could turn around and walk away, a large palm slid around your waist and pulled you into their side—Suguru.
“Who’s your friend princess?”
“Oh, uh this is Choso… not really a friend I would say—“ you said, voice tight.
“Not a friend?” Choso’s voice slid out like a tease, bright and easy—his eyes practically sparkling as he wore that mischievous smile. “I’m hurt, darling… especially after the amazing conversation we just had?”
You kept your expression sharp as you glared at him, but the words barely had time to settle before something changed against your side.
Suguru’s grip tightened around your waist—grounding and possessive. It pulled you a fraction closer, enough to make your breath catch and your attention snap upward. When you looked at him, you found his eyes already locked in on Choso’s face.
No smile. No warmth. Just a steady, focused intensity that made it impossible to pretend this was friendly banter. Suguru didn’t blink; he didn’t look away. His attention felt like a hand around Choso’s throat.
Choso’s grin faltered just slightly at the way Suguru watched him, but he recovered fast, tilting his head like he could charm his way out of it. As if Suguru’s reaction was just another part of this silly little game.
But you could feel the tension humming under your skin—between Suguru’s hold and Choso’s too-bright confidence—a rope was held, waiting for someone to tug.
“So,” said Choso, voice light but eyes cutting, “is this a friend of yours, pretty?"
The word pretty landed with a deliberate sort of sweetness, the kind meant to sound harmless while it actually drew blood.
You could feel Suguru beside you shift, barely. Just enough to make the space between you feel smaller-like his patience had hit a limit and the rest of him was deciding what to do with it. Your breath caught in your chest when Suguru's hand at your waist tightened, firming into an anchor.
Suguru scoffed-low, sharp, and dismissive, as if Choso's little game bored him.
“Her lover,” Suguru said quietly, voice smooth enough to pass as control rather than emotion. His gaze never left Choso's.
“And you're just a stranger.”
Choso's smile flickered, but Suguru didn't give him time to recover. Suguru hooked his fingers around your hand, he held it firmly as he guided you away as if this had always been the plan.
Still, your attention kept snapping back towards Choso, toward what could’ve happened next, until Suguru's grip tightened around your hand like a warning.
“Come on,” he murmured, leading you deeper into the darker, quieter part of the place, where eyes couldn't reach as easily.
You were both in the single bathroom now, the door closing shut behind you with a click.
Suguru didn't waste time. The moment you turned toward him, his hand caught your jaw and tipped your face up with possessive force. Then his mouth came down on yours—mean and rough, less like a plea and more like staking a claim on your very being. Your lipstick smeared where his lips dragged, and he didn't slow, didn't soften, like he was punishing you.
When he finally pulled back, his breathing was uneven, tan skin flushed that pretty shade of pink. His eyes were fixed on your mouth, your nose, then eyes, as if he was checking that you were still there-still his to hold.
"You looked at him," he said, voice low and sharp. "Like he deserved you. You tried to speak, but his thumb pressed hard against your cheek, making you squeak softly, yet keeping you still and complaint.
"Next time," Suguru murmured, leaning in close enough that you could feel every word, his lips brushing against yours, "don't answer strangers. Don't entertain them.
You don't owe anyone access to you." His gaze dropped to your lips again, then lifted—darker now.
"Or else I'll have to just take my frustrations out on you-" he murmured darkly,
"You know how I get, doll," he said, voice rough with jealous need. "I hate it when filth like that even thinks about coming near something as precious as you; something that's mine." His hands drifted to your hips, pulling you flush against him.
He tightened his hold, definitely not gently, just more deliberate—like he was reminding you he could do worse, and had chosen not to.
"Suguru-" you gasped softly as his head ducked suddenly and his lips attached themselves to your sap-sweet skin. Sucking and biting at your neck. He was definitely leaving deep bruises and bite marks on you.
Your hands found their way to his long locks and tugged softly, a whine escaping your lips.
"Keep making those noises and I'm taking you home..." he says with a chuckle before pulling away.
He stood back and admired his handiwork before saying
"alright— let's get going before everyone starts worrying doll,"
You nodded and smiled softly at him before saying
"always such a jealous man-"
"Only for you."
A/N: this is really rushed, especially the ending but it was a request so I had to get it done! Honestly writing this gave me some more confidence to write even more so (●’◡’●)ﾉ also suguru is so hawt omfg
Tags 🏷️: @raven66551 @lilithkleia @epicderpface hope this is to ur liking bbg💋
all work belongs to @j1hxxn , do not copy, repost, translate or feed into AI !!
you didn’t set out to homewreck their relationship on both ends, really. if anyone were to ask you, it was a stroke of fate—you’d just happened across the both of them. suguru, who approached you at a bar and bribed you to the back with a drink. who brought you to the perfect line between drunk and tipsy, giggling endlessly and listing into his side, unable to hold yourself up fully. who took off his wedding ring and placed it on the nightstand before taking you to bed. who took you apart with the skill of a man with years of experience.
years he had; after all, you woke up the next morning to his phone buzzing, a call from ‘love’ blaring at you from the screen.
he winks at you as he leaves, securing a teasing promise that you won’t tell anyone. you don’t. instead, you smear a kiss at his collar. you ask to see him again, and when you do, you make a game out of trying to leave evidence behind—when suguru pulls you back by the hair, making filthy promises to fuck you in his husband’s bed, you moan and scratch your way down his back. when he ties you up, calling you his pretty little dove, you pull the skin of his neck into your mouth and suck until it bruises. when he gags you, telling you to be good, you whine and cry and hook your ankles around his hips, hoping this time it takes.
and when he finally, finally takes you home, fucking you on his bed like he promised, you just so happen to accidentally leave your g-string behind.
a week later, you see satoru while scrolling on hinge. older, beautiful, and clearly suguru’s husband. you’d seen him enough, stared down his picture while his husband fucked you in his bedroom. you’d imagined his face. daydreamed about the possibility of him walking in, of him watching you take his husband down your throat as he moaned your name.
this, you think, is better.
you match. of course you do. you start talking, you play it sweet, you act completely clueless. you have phone sex with him before suguru picks you up for another date. suguru takes you to bed, and you comfort him when he texts you about how his ‘roommate’ is taking a while to get home. when you finally meet, he doesn’t even bother to hide his wedding ring. suguru never does, either.
satoru fucks you angry. he keeps your hands clasped in one palm as he takes you from behind, panting heavily in your ear. when you turn your head to moan, he growls low in his throat and shoves your face into the pillow, smothering your whines. he makes you cry. fucks you until he’s done, uncaring of the way you writhe against him as it borders too much.
and when it’s done, he sits there, not even looking at you. he stares down at his hands, palms up, wedding ring still on. you run a hand down his thigh, lean into his side, and ask what’s wrong.
“i think my husband is cheating on me,” he tells you hoarsely.
you coo, bringing his head into the crook of your bruised neck. you run a hand down his spine, stroking your thumb back and forth. you press a kiss into his white hair. “it’s okay,” you murmur. “it’s okay. he’s not—he couldn’t be. who’d be willing to give you up?”
he texts you again a week later. you visit suguru at work, suck him off under his desk, then wipe your mouth and meet up with satoru for lunch.
▶︎︎ Southbound (starring . various jjk men & women)
synopsis . Mundane things you do that drive them craaaazy. pairings (separate) . Sukuna x f!reader, Gojo x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Toji x f!reader, Shoko x f!reader, Geto x f!reader, Yuki x f!reader.
content . afab!reader, some established relationships, modern au, dirty talk, pet names, feral men & women, creampies, pervy!choso, finger sucking, perversion, overstim, filth, spit, cock stepping, rough sex, they’re naaaasty & obsessed, jealousy here ‘n there, fingering, possessiveness, brat taming, oral sex, etc.
word count . 8.4k || author's note: based on a request i can't find (help lol)! (not proofread) & the banner art is by rororogi mogera <3
☆ Sukuna Ryomen — flipping him off.
The moment your finger flew up his way in an aggravated flare, you expected the usual annoyed grunt or two in response. Instead, Sukuna's entire attitude shifts and you think you see his eyes getting uncharacteristically softer on you. Well, not really soft but soft in the way that lets you know that man is not paying attention to a word you're saying anymore.
"—and I really can't believe you," You're continuing on, "It's the same shit every week, and I just don't think I can—are you even fucking listening to me?!" Your words seem to capture his attention for a second, but his eyes are mostly trained onto your hand.
A muscle in his jaw flexes ever so slightly before you spot the faint quirk in his lips, crimson eyes just barely managing to find your face again, "What?"
"Oh, so you weren't listening," You scoff, turning away from the man with a pronounced roll of your eyes. Then you flip him off a second time and attempt to walk away from him, "Yeah, I'm done with this. Fuck y—"
“How far down my throat do you think that finger of yours could reach?” Sukuna asks all too casually and too slowly for your liking.
To which you end up choking, the remainder of your tirade dying out in your throat with one stupidly dry swallow. Your hand steadily retracts from where it is in the air and you turn to look at him, “What.”
Yeah, you knew the guy had some… strange interest when you first started talking to him romantically but nothing could’ve prepared you for the boner he popped when your middle finger went waving his way.
That—paired with that weird ass question he asked—is exactly how you ended up watching your boyfriend suck those same fingers of yours with a dark look in his eyes while he fucked you from the side. He had a singular hand neatly perched against the curvature of your hip as his other held onto your wrist to keep your hand from falling away from him.
“Mmhmm, mmmph,” Sukuna purred deeply, lathering your shaky digits with a slicked glaze of his saliva and driving his long, aggravatingly hard cock in ‘n out of your leaky cunt.
Squelch after squelch after squelch and the man was an utter mess before you. You watched as sweat trickled all down from the pink tuffs of his hair, strands clinging to his forehead messily while he sucked at your hand.
Between your moans, you found your eyebrows scrunching up as you huffed, “Why are you into this—aanh-, shit. Right there… f-fuckin’ freak.”
He nearly swallows your fingers whole, sucking impossibly harder in reaction and letting your fingertips graze the very back of his throat like some deranged whore. Sukuna had always been one to kiss your hand whenever he was trying to be romantic with you but you didn't think that'd translate over to this.
“Sukuna,” You called out in a desperate attempt at tugging him out of that fucked-out state of his.
The mean smack of his balls against your skin echoed and bounced off the bedroom walls with loud plaps, mixing in and growing louder with the grunts he was letting out and your moans.
He suddenly drags your hand away from his mouth and lets his droopy saliva splatter out and fall onto the side of your exposed waist, “Fuck do you want? Can’t you see my mouth is busy, woman?”
Your lashes flutter lightly as an utterly appalled feeling wells up inside you, “I—“
Unfortunately for you and whatever complaints you were about to strew his way, you're promptly cut off by the sultry motion of his hips plowing on as if fucking you was too easy of a task for him to put all his attention into. Then Sukuna politely takes your fingers back into his mouth and you think you see a little gleam of satisfaction coating his ruby gaze.
You tried to go on and catch him off guard by curling your fingers, but that only earns a stingy spurt of cum from the head of his cock as he gags. Then his eyes fly back and he seems to suction his mouth to your fingers even harder. Almost like he wants you to keep doing that.
To which you crack a smile, “Y’like that, ‘Kuna?”
Your boyfriend nods his head in a near pathetic manner—a way of which only your eyes are meant to capture. His cock is still ploughing through your puffy folds, sure to leave your inner walls swollen and stuffed with him by the time he's done.
Especially if you continue to egg him on by tilting your head at him and barely pulling your fingers away from him so that his mouth could follow like some big, starving mutt. Shaking your head, “This is so gross. Hah, why are you drooling like that?”
Sukuna pulls your digits out of his mouth again but only to stick his freakishly lengthy tongue out and then give you a slutty display of him wrapping a bit of the muscle around your fingers. Then he plasters wettened kisses the tips of them, “You have a really pretty fuckin’ hand.” He unexpectedly compliments.
You watch as the man shifts to drag your saliva-coated digits down along the tense plane of his sharp abs, his hips having stilled for a mere second so you could feel how your touch caused his weeping cock to pump 'n twitch frantically all around your insides.
“Can’t expect me to focus when you go waving it around in my face," He explains through a shortened breath. You take it upon yourself to feel at more of his chest while he leans over and moves both of his hands to your leg, practically pinning your body in place so he can rapidly puncture his dick past the elasticity of your entrance. "All I can think about it how good you feel against me—any part of you.”
A smile is placed upon your lips just then, “Aw, that’s kind of romanti—“
“Especially when you start stroking the inches of my cock that haven’t made it inside you just yet," He groans at the memory of it and your hand had unintentionally met the firm dips of his v-line, causing every inch of his body to shudder violently against you.
Then you deadpan, “Okay, never mind.”
To which he flashes a smug smile your way, “Keh.”
What a weirdo.
☆ Gojo Satoru — sneezing.
This freak. When he’d muttered a strangely hoarse bless you after the sneeze you’d let out, you tried not to think much of it.
But it was a little difficult to do that when he started to stare at you afterwards, flaunting that look of his that explicitly tells you his mind has gone somewhere very dirty. You were lightly rubbing the back of your hand against the tip of your nose to ease the itching sensation that the sneeze of yours had left and yet your weird ass husband was spotted in the corner of your eye bitting his bottom lip.
You sneeze one time during sex and now the damn from you sound makes his dick stand up no matter the situation!
Apparently whenever you sneeze, you clench especially hard around him—hard enough to drive him absolutely insane.
The two of you were trying to do some late spring cleaning and ended up in your cozy little attic, the air tinged with dust due to the vacancy of this area of your home. So naturally you were prone to a sneeze or two.
Unfortunately for you, this gave Gojo the brightest idea of all time.
He now has you hoisted up in his large, grabby hands—fucking you stupid as he bounces you up and down the fidgety length of his flushed cock—and hoping that having sex in this specific part of your home will coax a sneeze or two out of you.
"You're so weird," The words muddled out of your mouth in an airless little laugh, your head falling forward against the firm plane of his shoulder as he readjusted the mean grip he had on your thighs.
Despite hearing you just fine and smiling, "Is there something you wanted to say, baby?" Gojo asks, breath coming out warm near your skin.
Your eyes roll. "I said-," His hips snap upward just to purposefully cut you off, his thickened shaft sprawling your weepy hole open all the more with his ever swift motion. "Nngh-, ‘said you're so weird."
His head turned just so that his lips could brush at the shivering shell of your ear, "And yet," Gojo's teeth bare out to graze over your skin teasingly, "You're the one squeezing my cock like you don't wanna let him go." He points out.
While that was more than true, you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of you admitting it when he's the same mane who got turned on from your sneezing.
The attic air was rather warm from the glowy sun outside, and dust particles floated around lazily through the slanted beams of warm rays creeping through the singular small window placed not too far away from where Gojo stood with you. Nearly every bit of forgotten furniture cluttered in the area was painted over with a thin layer of ashy gray.
It'd been quite some time since the two of you had been in here. Hell, you believe the last time you both visited your attic was back when you guys were still christening the house via fucking in every room.
Per his idea, by the way.
The wooden floorboards beneath Gojo's sturdy feet had creaked from the weight of both his body and you hauled up in his arms. Wet droplets of slick splattered down onto the floor just under you with his every other uneven thrust, and you found yourself holding onto him tighter as he suddenly picked up the pace.
The plan to clean the attic up flew out the window about three or so sneezes ago and now he was waiting for you to do the same while his dick was inside you. It shouldn't have been too hard.
"Y'know most h-husbands just say bless you 'n hand their wife a tissue when they sneeze," Your voice was a bit unsteady from the way he was moving inside you—balmy cockhead poking all around your cervix and just kissing at your inner sweet spot to get you all the more wet around him.
You felt his chest rumbling slightly against your tits as he chuckled deeply, "Mmmh, yeah. But most husbands probably aren't blessed with the—fuck, knowledge that their wife's pussy sucks on their cock every time she—"
"Ohmygod, don't say it," You whine, cringing slightly as you leaned away from him as best as you could to catch the expression he was making.
He looked far too proud of himself, "...lets out the cuuutest little—"
"Satoru." You cut off with a warning glare in your eyes.
He only ignores it to smile at you, hands shifting to hike your body up higher in the air. The sudden change in angle brought about stars behind your shutting eyelids, his cock dragging against that squishy spot inside you that had your toe curling.
It seemed as though this was a position he'd managed to perfect with the the way he had you perfectly suspended in the air as if you weighed nothing, your tits bobbing, and feet left to dangle uselessly as he used gravity and his freakish strength to fuck you exactly how he wanted.
Oh, he was getting that sneeze out of you again.
Your hands reached up a little to tangle your fingers into his hair, holding on and tugging at him sharply whenever his tip plucked into the tightest nook of your pussy.
Mouth left open and mixed breathy moans 'n pants pouring out of you, Gojo saw how he already had one part of his plan down so far—fucking you straight to tears like he always did.
"Admit it, sweetheart," His voice dipped a pitch lower and he sounded overly determined to get his way, "You love that I know this about you, that I pay attention."
"Mmph-, I think it's weird, 'Toru. I just said this," You counter, words lacking any sort of bite to them.
Gojo's lips quirk up and his lashes bat slightly as he feels your saccharine walls quivering around the base of his cock, his hips barely rocking your body up. "Riiight, and that's why you're drippin' all down my cock right now—because you think it's weird."
You pout at him, "You're so annoying."
"You love me, though. And you love this," He picks his pace right back up where he'd just barely left off, letting his the crowning tip of his cock swat nastily against your depths to tug something sluggishly slick out of you. "Love that your weirdo husband still thinks you're sexy even when you're blowing sno—"
"I'm gonna get dry if you keep this up," You lie as your fingernails slightly scrape against his scalp and you cling onto his body tighter.
His smile manages to get impossibly wider, "Hah, not with my cock inside you, you're not." Gojo says cockily. Then his brows scrunch up and his dick is felt twitching inside you, "Plus it's your fault I'm like this to begin with, you should've held your sneeze back when we were cockwarming that night."
With every thrust and every word that jumped out of his mouth, you were only finding yourself surprised by the things he was coming up with. Scoffing, "You're being ridiculous."
Gojo lets your little comment slide for the time being and begins to walk over towards one of the attic's dustiest corner. Your expression instantly begins to twist up and you could feel your breathing growing shallower as the prospect of a sneeze tickles at your nostrils.
You really didn't want to give him what he wanted just yet.
"Oh? Did your nose just twitch?" Gojo asks, tugging your body impossibly closer to his so that your tits were sandwiched against his firm chest.
His hips became relentless just then, making it even harder for you to breathe with the way he was mercilessly fucking the air right out of your lungs.
"N-No," You tried to gasp but he saw the way tears welled up in your eyes.
Smirking knowingly at you, "Nah, don't hold it back now. Let it out, sweet girl. C'monnn, I just wanna feel you clench around me again." His voice softens up on you and you let out a short breath.
"This is so weird 'n embarrassing," You're whining, cunt spasming around his jaggedly thrusting cock. He was getting more and more frantic with each second that passed.
"Is it?" Your husband taunted, eyes lighting up as he watched your face contort into an expression that told him you were on the verge of a sneeze. "Well, I think—"
He's cut off almost comically by his own body—the dust having gotten to his nose instead of yours and leading him right into a short sneeze. With it comes a harsh thrust from his hips as the crash against your skin and you feel his muscles clenching tightly before his balls begin to twitch.
And then he's cumming inside you like an idiot.
"Oh," You're gasping now as you smirk right back at him, "I think I'm starting to get the appeal now."
☆ Shoko Ieiri — putting on lipgloss.
It’s a simple thing you, and many other people in the world, do to add some shine to your lips and yet your perpetually overworked girlfriend can’t help but get worked up every time she sees you doing it.
Perhaps it’s because you’re hers that it drives her insane but fuck, something about watching that pretty translucent shade of gloss slip out across the gorgeous curves of your lips makes her mind run to the most sinful of places.
It always reminds her of her lips against yours—and no, not the ones on your face.
There's only one other thing she can think of that's as lustrous 'n pretty as your lips are after you put on lipgloss. And that other thing is the same thing she's spreading open now with the two meticulous pads of her thumbs.
Your pussy is quivering under her due to the way she's panting like she's on the verge of dehydration from not lapping at you fast enough. She watches the cute pucker and clench your hole makes around nothing as she does so—eyeing how slobbers of slick dribbles out of you and trails down to your other hole.
You always got so wet for her, she just couldn't get enough of it.
That, and what's better than eating out her pretty girl after a long day of work?
Shoko nearly moans after blowing some air over your cunt to watch the way it flinches in reaction. "So cute," She mutters gently, "And wet." Then she's sending a fat wad of spit towards your clit and letting it trickle downward to mix with the rest of your soaked glory.
You don't even get to say anything before she's diving right in. Hell, you're not sure what got into her in the first place. You were supposed to be heading out to do some shopping but in the midst of your getting ready, Shoko said she needed something from you beforehand.
You knew she was watching you get all dolled up but you didn't think she was getting turned on from it too.
Locking her lips onto your cunt, she darts the length of her tongue out and sloppily lathers the muscle with your taste before groaning. A moan of her name leaves your lips but she hardly hears it—the taste of you has her dazed already.
Truth be told, Shoko could eat you out for hours and never get tired. Which makes sense, of course. You were her favorite meal after all.
But one of the best parts about doing so now—after you'd recently applied lipgloss—is looking up to see the way your mouth flails open with drool slipping out to mix with it. She always had you a wet mess from every single hole and she loved it.
Considered herself obsessed with it, even.
You shoot a hand down to her hair and try to grab ahold of her, pathetically attempting to move or shift her mouth where you want it to be but ultimately failing. Shoko goes wherever she wants to, the area of desire being your clit at the current moment with the way she foes from those lengthy laps 'n licks to kissing and softly suctioning her mouth to your slobbering pussy.
"Fuck, I almost forgot how sweet this pussy gets," She comments gingerly, warm breath grinding out against your smeared-open folds. "All sensitive on my tongue, nnngh-, can't get enoughhh..."
Her eyes sealed shut for a moment and you saw how she smiled into your cunt, kissing and licking like she was drunk on you or something. Fairly enough, she always got like this when she ate you out but fuck if it didn't drive you just as crazy each time.
Shoko's lips cup around your clit and she pulls at the sensitive bundle of nerves, the tip of her tongue tickling you obscenely before she moans into you once more.
Your back arches up away from the bed and you're left gasping for the air that'd recently left your throat, "Sho—fuuuck, Shoko..."
Her smile widens slightly when she hears you moaning for her but that doesn't stop the nasty flicks of her tongue. Then it begins to twist in a sloppy manner and her hands maneuvered over to peel your pussy lips further apart. She only removes her mouth from you to glide it downwards and pluck her tongue directly into your hole.
A broken gasp jumps out of you and she watches the entire thing from in between your legs. Then her hips and thighs move to try 'n relive the ache she felt building up in between them, especially as she saw how much of a mess you'd been above her.
Your lipgloss had smeared down to your chin and the sight made her eyes widen. Then her mouth worked at your cunt harder, feasting on you like a woman absolutely and utterly starved. Something feral left her throat but you're not sure if it was a groan or a growl.
It was some type of husked sound that made you try to push at her head. Of which she shakes immediately, "Don't fuckin' push at me," Shoko demands, eyes glaring as they find yours, "Let me-, ah.. ruin you. C'mon, cutie, you can take it. S'just my tongue," She hums before dragging that very muscle around your entrance.
Your hands moved elsewhere and you instead tried to pull your body away from her, only to be cut off by her arms moving to wrap around your legs and yank you back towards her mouth.
She pops off of you and then spits meanly, following it up with a harsh smack to your cunt. "Try taking my pussy away from me again 'n see what happens," Shoko warns, "Don't move, take it—I only just started."
Gulp.
☆ Choso Kamo — putting on/taking off shoes.
No, he doesn’t have a foot fetish.
You had started to think your best friend was a little weird when he’d stare at your legs whilst you slipped out of or into your shoes. But, with the way he’s currently panting like some mutt against your thigh, you realize his odd staring had nothing to do with your feet specifically.
Instead, his unwavering gazes had everything to do with the jealousy he felt in his heart upon seeing you apply so much pressure onto your footwear instead of him. Weird, right?
Yeah, he’s aware. But fuck, sue him for wanting his best friend—who orders him around 24/7—to step on him a time or two!
Which you're finally doing now after catching the erection he managed to get just from helping you put your heels on.
In his defense, it was a gorgeous red pair of heels he couldn't wait to see you walking around in.
Also the same pair of heels he accidentally came on a week ago when he was jerking off in your closet...
But that part was besides the point, all that mattered in this present moment was how good your heel felt mashing into the thiiiick outline of his poor cock—finally applying all the pressure he’d been fantasizing about.
“Nnngh-,” Choso moans, head slumped against your thigh with wet pants splaying out over your skin. “More, p-please, more… mistress—“
“Excuse me?” You choke and your foot stutters in its stepping as that title hits your ears.
You figured he’d be pathetic once he got a taste of you like this but you were not expecting him to say that in the slightest. And the way he angles his head up to look at you with those charming brown eyes of his—all glimmered over with tears while his hips jerk to create more friction between your heel and his dick.
“You’re such a loser, Cho. How many times did you think about this, hm?” You ask in an unfairly demeaning tone that makes his heart skin multiple beats within his chest.
“So many fuckin’ times,” He gasps out as if his breath had run away from his lungs entirely. The warm skin of his cheek is felt rubbing against your leg and he looks rather deranged in the state he's in, “Fuuuck—do y’know how long I’ve been wanting you to step on me?” He asks in return.
You head tips in faux thought and you bring your free hand up to your chin, the other occupied with patting his head softly, “Mmm, I think I’ve got a pretty good guess.” Then you move your touch to his broad shoulders and force the upper half of his body away from your limbs—exposing all of his pathetic frame to you. “In fact, I want you to pull your cock out and show me how badly you’ve been wanting this.”
Choso’s never moved faster to do anything in his life.
His hands are a bit jittery as they slip beneath the thick band of his sweats, then his boxers, and soon his dick is quickly flying out into the air. The upper inches of it appear to be a flushing shade of red, and he looks like he'd cum if you blew at him.
You spot a thick pool of precum spilling out from his mushroomy head and find yourself biting at your lip, then you let the tip of your heel brush against his shaft and Choso whimpers.
“Y-Yes,” He mumbles, “More, fuck.. please-, step on me moreee.” His body moves about against the floor so that he could meet the motions of your heel with a few ruts of his own.
You roll your eyes at how desperate he is but let your foot do exactly as he’s asked and grind it against his cock, guiding his erection down in a way that looks like it should hurt.
And yet, Choso’s throwing his head back and moaning into the air. “Ohmygodddd,” He releases a hoarse grunt from the pressure you're gifting him, “That’s so fuckin’ hot. C-Can you tell me how.. hahh-, pathetic I am too?”
You blink. “What?”
“Please?" Choso's eyes get droopy and he pants leisurely while giving you the cutest puppy eyes he could manage, "Look at me—look at how m’leaking all over your shoes… isn’t that nasty?”
Clearly he was taunting you into giving him exactly what he wanted. And unfortunately for you, it was working.
“Yeah, really nasty…” You say in a soft spoken tone. The edge of your heel lifts up to his tip and you tap at it in short intervals, watching the way he squirms and sporting a smirk on your lips as you say, “Think you can be a good boy ‘n lick them clean for me after I let you cum?”
Choso nods aggressively enough to bring himself to a throbbing headache, but he doesn’t care.
Which makes you snort, “Wow, Choso. I mean pathetic is one thing but, you’re more like a slut for me, aren’t you? Rubbing yourself all over my shoes like that… what a needy boy.”
Only a few words out of your mouth and all his fantasies had been fulfilled tenfold. He couldn't stop his eyes from rolling back, lips wobbly from how many sounds were escaping them, “M’gonna cum."
Your foot presses down harder and adjusts his cock over to the left, forcing it to pulse against the skin of his waist. Challenging him as you snort, “Are you?”
“Please-, ohfuck.. pleeease let me cum,” Choso's a quick learner, he didn't need any more questions out of that mouth of yours to realize you wanted him to ask for it. “I’ll be good, I’ll lick it up when m’done, I’ll lick you up when I’m done—whatever you want, please.. let me cumm.”
You pretended not to hear the claim in between his pleas about how he'd lick you up, ignoring the throb it invokes from deep in between your legs. It was almost annoying how he was the one receiving pleasure here and yet you could feel your panties clinging to your folds from wet arousal already.
Then, with gracious eyes do you nod your head and hum, “Mmmh, fine. Go ahead.”
A throaty groan is ripped out of his throat as he does so. Choso’s body jolts, cum shooting out of his tip in creamy waves
“Fuuuhh-, fuck..” His breath sounds exasperated.
You’re left to watch his release come flying out, landing up along your shin and even a little higher than that. As it lands, you feel the way it sluggishly glides down and Choso’s busy trying to collect himself from where he is.
Once his panting comes to a stop and he manages to blink away those tears he’d been holding back—his eyes run down along your body and just when you try to pull your leg away from him, he reaches out for it.
His grip on you is sudden and rather rough, but you let it slide for the time being. Your composure falters for a moment in shock, and he decides to take things another step forward.
At first, he does as you said and starts to lick up his cum—cleaning it off your shoe and the lower end of your leg. Then he starts to take some of his seed up onto his thumb and lick it up that way, scarcely meeting eyes with you every now ‘n then.
You didn’t realize he’d schemed something up until it was too late.
Choso went to wipe up the second to last drop of his cum and paused before taking it into his mouth.
Noticing his hesitation, “Hey, that’s not all of—“
The man cuts you off via grabbing at the bottom of your dress, and pulling you to bend down towards him. You stumble from your footing and then choke on your own breath.
Within your gasp and while your mouth is open, Choso swipes his cum out across your lips and then pushes himself up on his knees to lick it off—tongue sneaking into your mouth right after.
“Mmph!” You moan against him, kissing him back but definitely cursing him out within your head.
When he pulls away, he’s got a smile on his face even as he whispers, “Sorry.”
To which you glare at him, “You’re not.”
His voice grows low and sheepish as his gaze darts off from yours, “I was jus’ following your instructions. You said to lick it all up.”
“Yeah, but—“
“And I think,” He leans away from your face and dips down towards your legs, “Some of it got in between your thighs…”
It absolutely did not, but with the way he was looking at you…
Your head turns away and you stand up straight before crossing your arms. “W-Well then… clean me up properly.”
Choso’s cock twitches faintly and he’s bubbling with his own excitement as he starts to move your legs apart, “With pleasure.”
☆ Toji Fushiguro — working out.
There’s nothing Toji loves more than seeing you sweat. You thought it was his normal way of being overly affectionate in the beginning of your relationship with him, but over time you’ve come to learn that your boyfriend actually has a thing for you exercising.
And it doesn’t matter how you do so either. You could go on a short walk around the neighborhood, do some yoga around the house, stretch as soon as you wake up from a nap—and that big perv is rubbing a hand over the fat cock stiffening in between his legs.
Ever the weirdo.
If only you’d known about his obsession with seeing you exercise prior to going to the gym with him.
You were doing some cardio, running on the treadmill and oblivious to his verdant eyes trained solely on you from across the way. You already warned him beforehand that if he couldn’t control himself during one trip to the gym then it wouldn’t be happening again.
Toji tried to keep his eyes away from you, but he saw one too many other people walking your way and throwing their gazes at you for him to ignore.
And by the time his attention landed on you, he was a goner. You were running rather fast and all he could focus on was the way your body looked in motion. There was nothing inherently sexual about watching you sprint, but you couldn’t tell that to Toji.
Only thing running through his mind was the multiple ways in which he could work you out afterwards.
He was only halfway through his workout before he saw you heading off towards the locker rooms. And what kind of man would he be if he didn’t follow after his wife?
Okay, technically he had no real reason to do so but he’s not about to explain that to you now—even though you’re cocking a brow at him and questioning him about it.
“Toji, I told you to behave,” You sigh as you turn around and bend over, reaching for the clean shirt that’d fallen down within your locker.
Rookie mistake.
Now he’s creeping behind you and putting his hands on your waist, coming over to your ear and whispering, “I’m so behaved, baby. Haven’t even done anything yet.”
Your head shakes as you stand up straight, “Yet?”
Your questioning is immediately answered when you shift backwards and feel the heavy bulge poking in between your ass cheeks. All you could do at this point was shut your eyes and exhale again.
Glancing back over your shoulder, “How long have you had that?”
“Since I saw you stretching,” He admits.
You wanted to laugh at the man since that happened almost an hour ago. Instead, you simply turn your head away and let your shoulders drop, “Perv.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Your husband grumps, “Tell me more about it while I fuck ya’.”
A cool brush of air meets your suddenly exposed thighs as your workout pants are tugged right off your body in one go.
“Toji!” You whisper-shout, feeling him apologetically nuzzle his face into your neck.
Then you feel that tender tip of his swatting its way in between your folds as wets himself with your arousal. “Shhhh, no one’s coming in here,” Toji insists.
Considering how you were equally as turned on as he was—with the way you’d been eyeing his beefy body work out all evening long—there wasn’t much of an argument on your end.
Though, you can’t say you expected him to be so animalistic with the eay he fucks you up against that locker. The poor thing is shaking and making all sorts of creaky, rickety noises while he pounds the meaty girth of his cock deep into your cunt.
You had to pull your shirt up and bite down on the fabric just to stop yourself from crying out too loudly.
Toji on the other hand didn’t seem to care one bit about the noises, nearly lifting your body further up against the lockers as he gruffed into your skin. “Love this fuckin’ pussy,” He praises, heavy balls hammering against your puffy folds as he stuffed himself in to the hilt of your cunt with each thrust.
“Hnngh-, hahhh—yeahh?” Your shirt falls out from in between your teeth, “H-How much?”
Your questioning taunt has his cock growing impossibly harder, and he sandwiches your frame against the cold metal ahead.
Each movement from his hips is accompanied by a sharp thwack of his chubby tip, streeetching you out from the inside and aching to pull something soaked from out of you.
“You know how much I love my pussy—nasty lil’ thing.” Toji huffs before wrapping one massive arm around your waist and towing your body back onto his to meet with him, “Always squeezin’ this dick like she wants every drop of cum I’ve got for her.” His thumb locates your clit and taps at it, “Ain’t that right, doll? You want me to cum inside ya’. Right here in this locker room, ‘n force ya’ to walk out with it drippin’ alllll down these pretty thighs?”
Your maw dangles open all dumbly and he grunts loudly at the way your walls convulse around him in a rather nasty fashion—as if to answer him or something.
Toji’s free hand moves out to slam into the locker as he holds onto it and you swear you see him dent it a little. Still holding you in one arm, you’re reminded of just how strong your husband really is.
He practically lifts you up a few inches off the ground and pins you to the locker, “Think you can still run on that treadmill after bein’ thoroughly bred?” He asks only to earn a gaping sound out of the pit of your stomach, “C’mon, talk to me, dollface. Wanna hear it out this slutty mouth of yours.”
Dropping you, your legs are left trembling once your feet hit the floor and you don’t even get to breathe properly before Toji’s moving his arm from around your waist and up to grab at your jaw.
Angling your face back to his, he’s just babbling on about all the things he plans on doing to you—leaving you little to no room to answer him with any words.
“I might hafta’ cum inside you before every workout—make sure you’re reminded of who this pussy belongs to each time you come here,” Toji’s tongue folds out to lick the sweat off the side of your neck. He saw some people in particular looking at you for a few seconds too long so you can’t really blame him for his suggestions, “Would ya’ like that?”
You told yourself right there at that moment that you’re probably not going to attend this gym with him again.
Especially since your trainer—a tall blonde named Nanami—comes walking in due to a noise complaint he’d received from one of the other gym-goers outside.
Shit.
☆ Geto Suguru — yapping.
Now, between the two of you, you’ve always been the talker. He made a habit of throwing out a topic he knows you like, just to get you to talk more and then fall silent as he listens.
You adored his attentiveness for a long time until you realized he’d only been that way for an ulterior reason. That reason being that hearing you ramble on about literally anything gets his dick unbelievably wet.
Mainly because he loves to mess up the flow of your speeches by touching you—as he currently finds himself grinding the long, curvy shaft of his cock up ‘n in between your pussy lips. It started out as dry humping while you told him about your hectic day.
But now…
“Keep talkin’, gorgeous. I swear I’m listening,” Geto claimed despite doing everything but. His eyes weren’t even at your face anymore—trained entirely on the way your lips got speared apart by the head of his cock each time he rolled his hips forward.
Your cunt was leaking all over him far too much for you to remain focused on whatever story you'd been most recently yapping about. Instead moaning, “Thought about you all-, hnngh—all day, Sugu.”
“Yeahh? I know you did, pretty girl.” Geto puffs out gently, as if his length wasn't being the exact opposite with each heave and drudge against your exposure. “Did you think about this too? About my dick slippin’ against you like this? Teasin’ you?” His voice gets breathy as he says that, falling victim to the same thing as you with the way he gets caught up in the not-so-dry humping.
“Uhuhh,” Your hips stag upwards and roll, forcing his cock to angle down and press a nasty smooch against your hole.
Geto's hand moves to sprawl out against your abdomen and he forces you to be flat against the cushions. Scoffing whilst taking his shaft into his other hand and angling it around your slavering hole instead of in, “Keep talkin’ then. Finish that story of yours. What happened with Satoru after he spilled that drink on you?” He asks.
He needed to get back on track here. After all, you only allowed him to grind against you if he promised to listen to your story properly.
“Suguruuu,” You started to whine though, as if it wasn't you who agreed to this in the first place. He then watches as you grab at his wrist and wiggle your body around below him, cutely trying to work that plump head of his past your desperate ring of resistance, “I-I can’t think about him right now,” You push his hand away next and reach further down to grab at his cock, “Jus’ put it innn. Pleaseee?”
Geto manages to smile but his breath hitches in your throat. While he loves hearing you all needy for him, he also wants to be good and abide by your prior request, “Hm… I could," He says playfully, nibbling on his lip once you begin to stroke the inches of his dick he refuses to put in you, “But I think I wanna hear you l-like—hah, shit... like this for a little longer.”
Purposefully, your mean boyfriend begins to fuck himself into the small hole your hand has created for him and you continue to feel him slide all his weight over your clit each time he thrusts forward. It was driving you inside since you could feel his many veins twitching to be shoved inside you instead.
“Fuck me,” You gasp, hoping your please would convince him to do so quickly, “Please Sugu, I need you inside me.”
His dick practically jumps against your hand and you watch how his chest rises and falls with the deep breaths he has to take to hold himself back. “Need me inside you?" He snickers, "Oh, so you want my fingers then?”
The prettiest pout appears on your lips and it makes his cock begin to drool excessively onto your skin. “N-No, I need your dick inside me. C’mon Sugu, don’t you wanna fuck me?” You say before holding your legs up ‘n open for him, “Can't you see how wet I am for you?”
Geto tries—he really does—not to look down, but when you're spreading your legs like that... he just can't help himself. His eyes descend your body and a pornographic expression is painted into his pretty features.
“Shiiit…” He mutters, moving his hips back and jerking himself off in a few, quickened strokes, before he places his swollen tip up against your cunt, “You always know how to convince me, huh?”
Not a second more is wasted before he's sliding into you with vigor, eyes locking onto the moans you let out, and head tilting over.
“Missed this dick inside you that badly? That moan was louder than normal," Geto teases, feeling your pussy let out a squeaky squelch around his thickness.
You meet his eyes with something sinful coating your own, “I missed you fucking me."
“Oh yeah?” His arms move out so that he could properly cage you beneath him, hips casually bucking into you to spread the translucent glosses of his precum all across your hugging walls, “How much, baby? Talk to me—talk to Sugu.” He mocks.
You're a mess under him already and he feels as though he's barely even done anything yet. Plus, he still hasn't let you finish that story of yours and it's gonna make him feel bad any second now. You seemed so excited to tell him what happened while you were out today and now...
“Nnngh-, aanh,” Moans were slopping out of your mouth and your body was easily being fucking up against the bed, the frame distantly thumping against the wall hard enough to leave multiple marks that you're sure to scold him about later. “S-Soo much, Sugu," You reply, "Thought about havin' you inside me all fuckin’ day.”
Geto truly couldn't get enough of your voice. He loved hearing you talk more than anything, so every time you moan for him it just drives him insane. His balls come slapping against your skin with each heavy rock of his slim hips, cock getting swallowed up so nastily by that gorgeous pussy of yours.
Hell, he can't help himself from pushing into you a little deeper, “Ohhh don’t tell me that. My poor girlll, did you rub one out before I got home?”
You nod helplessly and your hands are reaching up to hold onto his arms, leaving light scratches across his skin due to how rough he was getting with you. “Wanted to feel you," Your whines ring out and enter his ears the same way a loving kiss from you would.
“Awhh, did you?” He mocks you again and ends up tossing his hair back—long, dark locks flying with the motion all elegantly as he grunts. “Shit, you’re so cute when you’re like this. Couldn’t even finish that little story of yours.”
Your legs feel like jello underneath the large man once his pounding begins to slant—the crooked curve of his cock knocking around that spongey spot inside you, and earning gossamers of your arousal to squirt out in return.
Then he's got the nerve to grin, “Guess you’ll have to tell me about it later.”
As if that won’t lead to the same thing happening all over again…
☆ Yuki Tsumuko — eye rolls.
Now, your girlfriend has many joys in this world but one of her favorite things to do with you is be nice 'n close to your face while she's knuckle deep in your cunt.
Why? Because she loooves watching the way your eyes flock to the very back of your head each time she curls her precise digits into that spot she knows you so desperately crave for her to reach. Giggling, "Hear how loud my girl is?" She'd tease in a slightly hoarse mutter.
You'd let out a moan in response if it weren't for her lips latching onto your again to drown the sound out completely. Her tongue twirls and dances over yours the same way it typically does to your pussy and you try your best to keep up with her but it's no use.
Perhaps you should've known better than to catch an attitude with her. You only rolled your eyes once because of how much she'd been lecturing you about something and now she was punishing you for it.
You can't really say you were complaining, though.
She pulls away from your mouth simply to watch the way your face twists up into pure bliss. Her fingers are dragging out something far too sweet 'n delicious out of your weeped hole, and she's eyeing down the way whines of her name leave your pretty, spit-slicked lips.
"Y-Yuki, please," You gasp and attempt to lift your hips for a moment to breathe only to be tugged right back down by the grip she's got on you with her free hand.
Then she pouts as if to mock you, "Aw, you close, pretty?" She hums in that faux sweet tone that causes your stomach to churn with butterflies, thighs a trembly mess over hers. "Gonna cum for me? Make a nasty lil' mess on me like you always do? Hm?"
As she continues to taunt you, her fingertips are busy rubbing right against that angled spot inside you that has your eyes crossing with stars in them. You're trying to nod your dumb head, and wanting nothing more than to duck down and hide your expression from her greedy eyes.
You make a laughable attempt at doing so, trying to move your face into the crook of her neck only to be stopped by the searing grip of her hand coming up to your throat. Her thumb pushes at your chin to lift it up and she smiles when you're forced to look at her again.
"Tryin' to hide your face from me now? Seriously?" She gasps in an exaggerated manner. "Now, you know that's my favorite part of you." Her fingers pick up in pace all of a sudden and you could feel the pads of each one ramming into you as if to punish you. "Just look atcha', all teary eyed 'n pouty like you weren't asking for this."
Your eyes are quick to dart elsewhere but you feel your orgasm rapidly approaching, "S-Shut upp," You huff, "I hate it when you do that."
The knowing smile on her face only widens out before she tips her head to the side, thumbing at your puckered lil' clit to roll her name into it. "Do what?" Yuki puffs out in that soft tone once more, brownish eyes dilating fro the disorientated sight of you, "Watch you when you're about to cum? Smile at the way your eyes run to the back of your head 'cause it's too much for ya'?
Before you could even answer her, she was leaning forward and your body was easily getting unsteady with its hovering over her lap.
"Would you rather I watch her instead?" She taunts, pushing you over so that your back flops down against the mattress. "Cause' I can do that. It has been a while since I've seen my girl up close, after all. Wonder if she's got just as much of an attitude with me as you do."
With a heavy huff exiting your throat, you watch with wide, glossy eyes as she sits up over you and meets your thighs with her soaked hands. Internally you were dreading what was about to happen as Yuki was never one to be gentle with her tongue as it laid onto your folds.
She parts your legs open for herself, "Think she missed me just as much as I missed her?"
You're too busy trying to cover your face out of some sort of shyness, refusing to answer or look at your eager girlfriend. To which Yuki playfully rolls her eyes and repositions herself down in between your legs. Her eyes stay up on you and your heavily breathing chest for a moment before she pushes forward and presses a chaste kiss against the soaked slit of your pussy.
"Babyyyy," She purrs in that evil voice of hers, "Look at me, will you?"
Even though you know damn well she only wanted to tease you, you ended up listening to her anyway as you removed your hands from your face and lazily drag your eyes down to her.
God, the sight was nothing short of sexy.
Her blonde hair had been strung back into a messy ponytail, brown eyes set dead on you, and pretty pinked lips slipping upwards into that smile you know and love so much.
"Theree she is," Yuki coos, tipping her head to the side again as she flaunts a mocking pout at you, "Was that so hard?"
Your brows tangle upwards and just as you go to answer her, she slots her two fingers right back into you slooowly with a loud squelch emitting into the room. "No," You whisper, "But d-do you have to stare?"
She scoffs, "Of course I do! How else would I watch your eyes roll back while I fuck you?"
Summary: You're pregnant, hurray! But your father, Price, is furious with your baby's father. The only question is who is that, exactly?
1.2K
AN: I had a dream the other night that I was pregnant but I don't think that will come true anytime soon because I was also a fairy. Also while I do subscribe to the ‘Price is a shit dad mentality’ I cannot bring myself to write it.
The only reason you knew people couldn’t die of embarrassment was your own current experience.
Sat on an uncomfortable wooden chair in a stuffy office, head down, fingers clenched in your lap, cheeks burning red, throat tight, you were hoping the floor would just open up and swallow you whole. The protection your father believed he was offering you was doing little to help you relax. He stood like a barrier in front of you, hands actually on his hips, shielding you from the other men in the room who were undoubtedly feeling as uncomfortable as you, probably worse. His anger was visible from outer space, if the heavy breathing hadn’t given it away already. Your father had his back to you, choosing instead to face his team with whom he was furious.
“Which one of you?” He asked, his gruff voice unusually smooth, “Which one of you fuckin’ bastards,” You winced as his voice rose, “Got my daughter knocked up?” He was scolding these fully grown men as if they were five years old.
A meteor strike. Dinosaurs reanimating. Anything but this.
The rest of the team didn’t move an inch. They’d been through torture training, hell, the man in front of them had put them through it; but they were beginning to think that had only been a warmup compared to his rage. Each stood to attention before their superior officer, hands clasped behind their backs, with the unmistakable air of people who had been caught red-handed. Soap was uncharacteristically silent, his mouth, that was so used to moving, now bolted shut. Gaz was sweating up a storm, the heat of the small room, no doubt carefully curated by Price, not helping. Ghost was refusing to meet his captain’s eye. The captain he respected so much, whose orders he executed unquestioningly.
Clearly he didn’t respect him enough to refrain from sleeping with his daughter.
Price snorted rather like a bull. He paced slowly, menacingly, up and down in front of his men, assessing each one closely for weaknesses in turn before he returned to his original position in front of you. Whilst this could be viewed as protection, your father’s military past meant that it was also probably to keep you from making eye contact with any of them, preventing you from silently communicating to the guilty party.
Earlier that day you had confessed; gone tearfully to your father’s office and told him, through sniffles, that you were pregnant and he had gone so still you thought he was having a heart attack. He only moved after a whole minute having fully assessed the situation. He took off his hat, rubbing his jaw ruefully, you were sure you had just put a few more grey hairs into his beard, before rising and encasing you in a hug, asking you gently if this was what you really wanted, were you truly happy?
“‘Cuz if you ain’t, darlin’, you have options, yeah?”
You yourself had found out the day before which had given you time to ponder that exact question and come up with an answer, which was yes, you were. Having graduated from university a year ago you had found yourself a little lost; no job seemed to be calling out to you. Of course dad offered to get you a job through nepotism but the army had never been your calling and besides, you didn’t want to work for the sake of working. But now there was a real little life growing inside you, protected and cared for and loved by you that you realised, sat on the toilet seat in that dingy bathroom stall, that you no longer felt lost.
You had found a purpose. You wanted to be a mother.
You told dad all this and you felt him slowly process and accept your words, the future you saw for yourself. You were happy. That was all that mattered. He stroked your hair tenderly, quietly reassuring you that the two of you would figure this out, you were in it together, that he wanted to be there for you, - and that was when he drew back again.
“Will the, uh, father be there for you too darlin’?”
That gave you pause to consider the question grating on the back of your mind. The one that made your insides burn whenever you dared think of it. John mistook your silence to mean something else entirely, which was why he had lined up his team and was drilling them ferociously. You were not happy with what you viewed as this macho show of overprotection. You thought you might die if he pulled rank on them.
“Dad?” You said tentatively, not wanting to make things worse.
“No, no darlin’, ‘s alright, I’ll make a man out of ‘em soon enough.” He growled taughtly, agitated. “I’ll get some responsibility going.”
You visibly winced. The three of them saw and you watched as their faces twisted in concern, which made John whirl around to face you too. Your hand instinctively moved to cover your abdomen. His eyebrows contracted. “You alright?” He asked, worried. You swallowed hard, knowing what you had to do but hating every second of it. All this panic could not be good for the baby but you had to save them from this.
“Dad,” You began gently, “It’s not that they don’t want to be part of this, it’s not,” You added at his disbelief. You explained quietly, “They don’t know.” You let that hang in the air, watching everyone in the room digest it. Dad looked confused. “Whadda you mean they don’t know?” He repeated, “You haven’t told him yet?” You shook your head.
John’s shoulders dropped a little in relief. “‘S alright darlin’, it’s alright,” He soothed, “You can tell us now, yeah?” He didn’t have to add ‘tell us know so I can beat the shit out of him’, but everyone knew it was there.
You took a deep breath, ready to seal your doom. “I can’t tell them Dad,” You said, barely louder than a whisper, unable to meet his eyes, “Because I don’t know whose it is.”
John’s eyes widened, his head whipped around, tracing the three of them like a sonar as your bomb exploded. Soap’s eyebrows shot up so high on his forehead they got lost in his shaggy mohawk before his head fell forwards as though in prayer. Gaz’s breath caught in his throat as he went dangerously pale, his eyes raking over your scared face, hands shaking slightly. Ghost let out a small choking noise that could be passed off as a cough, shifting his weight uneasily. One thing was for certain; all eyes were on you. A tear or two escaped as you quivered in your chair, shrinking into yourself, still cupping your abdomen protectively as if one of them was going to strike you. If someone had told you three months ago that you’d be in this position you might have exercised a little more restraint when it came to your father’s men.
Soap bravely opened his mouth to speak, or perhaps only to laugh, but was quickly distracted by Price’s small moan of shock before the clattering sound of his body meeting the floor echoed around the boxy room as he fainted.
“Dad!” You wailed in horror, springing up. Gaz flinched at you moving so quickly but it was Ghost who caught your eye, his own expression unreadable under his mask, “Now yeh’ve gone an’ done it.”
♡ sukuna realizes that he does get jealous after all. . .
series masterlist
sukuna will say this very seriously, he does not get jealous. the emotion itself is beneath him.
that is until yuji coming home from school, jumping in place.
“i made a friend today!!”
“you did?” you ask. “so what are they like?”
“his name’s megumi and he likes dogs and dinosaurs too and he traded me his pudding because i gave him my chocolate!”
yuji keeps talking without stopping.
“and he’s really quiet but he laughed when i scared a pigeon away and megumi said maybe we can go to the park together and can we please please please—”
“ji— okay, okay,” you laugh. “slow down.”
his eyes widen instantly. “really?!”
“if megumi’s dad says yes, sure.”
yuji cheers.
later that week you end up exchanging numbers with megumi’s father after pickup.
toji fushiguro, he introduced himself— pretty tall, scar across his mouth, seems normal enough, though.
the playdate gets set for saturday afternoon, and sukuna seems pretty indifferent to it or at least he pretends to.
“you’re taking yuji to the park?” he asks while scrolling through his phone.
“mhm.”
“so, who’s the kid— or more like, you know their parent?”
“well.. a little?” you say thoughtfully. “toji fushiguro.. i think?”
“…fushiguro?”
you blink. “hm? you know him?”
“used to run in similar circles.” sukuna looks deeply annoyed already. “guy’s a pain in the ass.”
“well.. he seemed nice?”
“that’s because the guy likes pretending.”
you snort. “you’re dramatic, it’ll be fiiine.”
“i’m serious.”
“baby, i’m going to a playground. not a nightclub.”
sukuna looks at you for a long second, then sighs.
“fine, do what you want.”
which, surprisingly, he actually means— he fully intends to let you have your little park day in peace.
because really.. what could happen?
apparently a lot.
because now sukuna’s standing outside a convenience store a few minutes away while staring at his phone with growing irritation.
he just cannot stay at home while knowing you’re out with that damned black-haired man, so he lasts another three minutes before getting back in his car.
meanwhile, you’re sitting at the park bench while yuji and megumi run toward the playground together.
“be careful!” you call after them.
toji sits beside you a second later holding two juice boxes and an iced coffee.
“kid asked me to bring extras,” he says, handing you the iced coffee.
“thanks!”
“don’t mention it.”
for a while it’s easy and comfortable, you talk while the boys play. mostly about school— how both boys have been doing, how megumi apparently refuses to sleep without his stuffed wolf, how yuji always has endless energy no matter what.
“so.. that your kid, right?” toji asks eventually, nodding toward yuji.
you smile. “well no.. but technically my nephew.”
“could’ve fooled me.”
you shrug slightly. “he does feel like my own, though.”
“clearly.”
talking to toji is surprisingly easy, the guys laid back, which is probably why the next thing out of his mouth makes you second guess.
“you single?”
oh..
but before you can even answer, another voice cuts in.
“no, she‘s not.”
you look up immediately.
sukuna stands there behind both of you wearing all black with sunglasses pushed into his hair.
he looks weirdly calm, which means he definitely heard enough to annoy him.
toji glances between both of you once before leaning back slightly.
“oh! what are you doing here?” you say surprised.
“was just getting something to drink.”
“from the park..?”
“eh, crazy coincidence.”
toji snorts quietly beside you— big mistake, because sukuna’s eyes immediately slide toward him.
“fushiguro.”
“ryomen.”
you can absolutely feel the tension in the air.
you look between them slowly. “oh my god.. you actually know each other.”
“unfortunately,” they say at the exact same time.
yuji spots sukuna from across the playground and immediately lights up.
“UNCLE KUNA!!”
he abandons megumi and runs across the grass at full speed before slamming directly into sukuna’s legs.
sukuna just rests a hand on yuji’s head. “now get off me brat, you’re sweaty.”
“we were racing!”
“that so?”
“i won!”
megumi finally walks over, hands shoved into his little pockets.
“yuji cheated..” he says quietly.
“did not!”
“you pushed me!”
you’re trying not to laugh while yuji now clings to sukuna’s arm, and you get up to approach both.
toji watches the interaction for a second, then he looks back at you.
“…damn my bad,” he says finally. “cute little family you got there.”
sukuna goes quiet for a second, then his arm hooks around your waist possessively.
“exactly,” he says. “know where you stand, fushiguro.”
( ꈍᴗꈍ) teen!suguru and kyoto jujutsu high!reader he has a crush on
you knew about geto and gojo from utahime's stories, your best friend from tokyo jujutsu high, and encountered them yourself multiple times during goodwill event every year. satoru gojo always teased you, it wasn't new. it's been always like this since you met him at the age of 12 for the first time. you knew each other, but never were actual friends.
suguru geto though…
he was an idiot in your eyes too. trouble-maker and obnoxious, yet he's calmer than his best friend, who was a bigger idiot.
but there was another thing.
he liked you, a lot. like in love or something.
no one told you this as a secret. not shoko, not nanami.
in fact, he confessed it himself.
it was second year. you visited utahime on summer weekends in tokyo, planning to go shopping in shibuya, maybe inviting shoko as well.
you were standing near subway, in your casual clothing, looking through your flip phone. when you noticed them, approaching you, you frowned. shoko looked as usual, relaxed, cigarette between her lips, but now she looked amazed. curve of your lip upward betrayed her good mood, like something made her laugh.
utahime, on the other hand, looked mad. eyes soothed, puffing over something and holding something in her hands in a tight grip, almost squishing it.
"what's wrong?" you ask glancing between both of them.
utahime grunted, shoko chuckled. "we were asked to deliver something for you." ieiri replies lightly, lightening her cigarette.
you frown deepens, when utahime shoves something in your chest. is it… chocolate box?
"what did you even do? did you talk to him and put charm on him. he's an complete idiot!" utahime explaims.
shoko chuckles again. "relax, it's just a gift. maybe it will pass." pause. "but i agree, he's an idiot and not really boyfriend material."
you listened to them with half an ear, opening the chocolate box and seeing a letter inside. "who the hell are talking abo…?"
suguru's handwriting.
your eyes get wider and wider as you read, what he wrote. he calls you pretty, says you have nice laugh and that he likes you and wants to go out with you. "what?! is this a joke. how…?"
girls curiously looked over your shoulder, reading the letter.
"who taught him to be so romantic?! did geto actually write it?" utahime couldn't hide her surprise.
shoko rose her eyebrows. "huh, suguru for real has a crush on you."
"you don't help right now!" you say with high-pitched voice, pressing palms against your cheeks, absolutely flustered.
what did he find in you? almost your interactions contained you being mad at him because of his behaviour. yes, a few times you talked a little bit normally during goodwill event in the first year and then when you met them in tokyo, but that's it. nothing much.
that to be said, you didn't give any reply. but you didn't throw away his letter and chocolate either. sometimes, late at night, when you were in your dorm in kyoto jujutsu high, you opened the letter reading it all over again.
you had to admit suguru's handwriting was pretty, his kanji are drawn out neatly. like he took his time writing it for you. you also couldn't help, but think how romantic the gesture is.
you didn't know how you felt about him. he was still obnoxious in your eyes. still loud and snarky. but then there were moments when he looked cute with strand of his raven hair falling on his face or they he was smiling last time you saw him on a combined mission.
realising you think about him too much, you hide your face in a pillow, groaning. your feet is kicking the mattress under the blanket.
despite that, you tried to avoid him on the next goodwill event, running away as soon as you were getting a chance to. suguru was frowning, confused with your actions, but said nothing, patiently waiting for you speak up first. he even left a few flowers for you under your door, where you were staying.
and when he noticed you keeping them in your bag, he smiled to himself quietly, blushing a little bit.
✯
it was raining in tokyo, when you accidentally got lost. it wasn't just a rain, it was straight up downpour.
and you forgot your umbrella.
sneakers were soaked, backpack is wet, your hair is clinging to your skin.
you felt helpless, when suddenly you saw transparent umbrella above you and then its owner.
suguru was smiling at you softly, trying to hold his laugh. you bet you looked like a sad wet cat right now.
"got lost?" he asks, looking down at you. you simply nod, not trusting your face. "come on, we can still hit the subway."
his casual optimism worked on you as an anti stress, like suguru shared with you a little bit of his calmness.
as you two were sitting on station he kept asking about your state, making sure you didn't feel cold or too disturbed by the feeling of wetness.
the conversation went further, you talked about almost everything, still teasing each other, but now it felt lighter more wholesome.
at some point you found yourself laughing at something he said, holding your stomach and then you noticed his fond look
maybe suguru geto wasn't an idiot you always portrayed him to be, maybe your feelings towards him were as tangled as you thought.
maybe you actually admit that you did like him back.
"so uhm… is your offer to go out still up?"
a/n: it was supposed to be shorter, but i got carried away. oops
it had been way too long since gojo left. you knew he was busy with work, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. so when you heard the sound of your front door opening, you practically sprinted across the room.
“toru!” you called out, eyes lighting up as you saw that stupid white hair and those stupidly pretty eyes behind his even stupider sunglasses.
but just as you reached out, you smacked into something. something very solid. you recoiled, blinking in surprise.
oh. infinity. you should’ve known.
“uh-uh,” gojo wagged a finger, smirking. “password first.”
you sighed dramatically, crossing your arms. “seriously?”
“do i look like i’m joking?”
“you always look like you’re joking.”
“that’s because i’m a funny guy.”
“you’re something, alright.”
“aw, babe, you’re so in love with me,” he cooed, placing a hand over his heart.
you rolled your eyes, but the way your lips twitched betrayed your amusement. still, you weren’t about to let him win that easily. so, instead of giving in, you decided to be difficult.
“fine. password is… gojo sucks.”
his smirk widened. “mm, wrong answer.”
you tried again. “password is… my boyfriend is a menace and i should’ve found someone else by now.”
“cold. so cold,” he said, feigning a dramatic shiver.
“password is…” you trailed off, tapping a finger to your chin, “satoru gojo is a loser.”
gojo gasped, pressing a hand to his chest like you’d physically wounded him. “okay, now you’re just being mean.”
“oh, now i’m being mean?”
he gave you a pointed look. “say the real password and i’ll think about forgiving you.”
you huffed but finally relented, stepping closer to his barrier with a playful smile. “i love you, toru.”
in an instant, infinity dropped. before you could blink, he had you wrapped up in the tightest hug ever, lifting you off the ground as he spun you around.
“toru!” you laughed, gripping onto his shoulders.
“i missed you,” he groaned into your neck, refusing to let go. “so, so much.”
“you were gone for two weeks.”
“might as well have been forever.”
you rolled your eyes, but your heart melted at the way he clung to you, like he was never going to let go. you ruffled his hair, chuckling when he leaned into your touch.
“next time, just let me hug you,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple.
“hmm.” he grinned against your skin. “nah. making you say ‘i love you’ first is way more fun.”
this is a drabble archive account for creamflix - this is a repost and not something stolen. i am not exclusively active on this account, nor do i take requests on here. if you want to use this idea for a fic or series, please ask for permission first.
not realizing you’re talking to your ex-boyfriend!sukuna while drunk !
you were way too drunk and the sigma chi house was spinning.
the music thumped through the walls and your head felt light and fuzzy, but you were smiling anyway, red cup dangling from your fingers as you leaned against the wall for balance. your friends had disappeared ages ago and you didn’t really mind.
that’s when you saw him.
tall. pink hair. tattoos crawling up his arms. he looked really familiar but your drunk brain couldn’t connect the dots. you just knew he was stupidly hot standing there by the stairs with his arms crossed.
you stumbled over with a bright smile.
“hi,” you said, voice soft and sweet. “you have the prettiest eyes. like… scary pretty.”
sukuna looked down at you and his eyebrow raised, but he didn’t move away. the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.
“yeah?” he asked, voice low.
you nodded, stepping closer until you were leaning into his space. he smelled so good. warm and a little sweet, just like someone you used to know.
“mhm. my ex had eyes like yours,” you mumbled, resting your forehead against his arm because the room wouldn’t stop tilting. “he was mean looking but really nice to me. i miss him a lot actually.”
sukuna stayed quiet, one big hand coming up to steady you by the waist so you wouldn’t fall.
you kept talking, words spilling out easily now that someone was listening.
“we broke up because i thought he didn’t care enough but… he used to do the sweetest things. like bringing me coffee before class or letting me play with his hair even when he acted all tough about it.” you sighed softly. “i think i messed up. i still wear his hoodie to sleep sometimes.”
his grip on your waist tightened just a little.
“you’re drunk,” he murmured.
“super drunk,” you agreed with a little laugh, tilting your head up to look at him again. “but i mean it. he was the best. made me feel safe even when he was quiet and scary. you kinda look like him, it’s weird.”
sukuna let out a quiet breath that sounded almost like a laugh. he guided you through the crowd with a hand on your lower back, taking you upstairs without saying much. you didn’t even question it. his room felt familiar but everything was blurry.
he sat you on the edge of his bed and grabbed a bottle of water, crouching down in front of you so you could drink it. his hand rested gently on your knee the whole time.
“you’re really nice,” you whispered, eyes half closed. “my ex was nice like this too. when nobody else was looking.”
he didn’t answer right away. just brushed some hair out of your face with careful fingers and helped you lie down. when you reached out and grabbed his hand he paused.
“stay?” you asked softly.
sukuna sighed, but it was the soft kind. he sat on the edge of the bed and let you keep holding his hand, thumb rubbing slow circles over your knuckles while you drifted off.
“yeah,” he said quietly, watching you fall asleep in his bed again. “i’m not going anywhere.”
sukuna cracks open his wallet as the waitress shimmies away with the bill, licking over the thick pad of his thumb as he unfolds and cards through the stack of bills all nestled in the back of the leather. you watch him with low, shadowed eyes, pretending not to notice the giddy shake in your knee as he sums up the worth of your presence.
much to your dismay, he pulls out $100.
that’s it.
“here, baby doll.” he hums, voice a low growl in the back of his throat. you shiver against it, biting your lip as he lowers the bill between your thighs. “open up.”
you do, parting your knees, letting him get under your skirt and under your thigh-length socks, slipping the money under the elastic, dark waistband. his touch lingers unapologetically — you two are exposed, but he doesn’t care. the entire place should know you’re his.
bravely, you whisper, “that’s it? just a hundred?”
“i’m not taking you home, am i? told me you had a big test to study for. so… yes, only a hundred for tonight.”
you scoff, painted lips parting as the server draws near, smiling to secure her final tip from the elusive, older man. “sir… that simply will not do.”
sukuna turns his nose up at you, dark eyes low, and grey-stubbled chin high. he’s beckoning you to the ground with words unsaid, and you’re not bending. not when your money comes down to it.
“there you go. arch that back like you’re worth something.”
sukuna’s got you restrained in a shiny pair of cuffs, wrists crossed at your back as you work yourself on his cock, whining from how hard it is when you don’t have the stability of your hands. right now, there’s only a $100 bill on the bed — that same bill that he slid between your thighs earlier, and is expecting you to work yourself up to a higher prize.
of course, under his conditions.
your sugar daddy has always been a cruel, old man, but what’s more cruel right now is the obscene stretch of his cock splitting you open.
you’re on fire, face all sweaty and flush, eyes leaking more tears than your needy cunt, taking him in like he never left. the lack of control is overwhelming, but your man is a stickler for perfection — for trust and respect. sensory deprivation is only a tool, and he’s the one holding the screw.
wad of cash in-hand, sukuna stands on his knees, shirtless, thick hair-covered chest catching the shadows of the dull room lights. “all the way… that’s another two hundred.” he throws down another couple of bills, letting them flutter over your back and tumble away.
“it…. ‘s too much.”
“so you tell me often.” he tries to cover the shake in his voice with a hum, but you catch it. your knees go weak, sending you face-first into the sheets. “ach— now you’re down fifty.” sukuna leans over you, huge body covering yours as he snatches your prize right back in his huge fist.
you whine as the new position pushes the rest of his grueling length inside of you, voice gone and shaking as you cry into the mattress, begging with words unsaid and useless little noises that you know he needs to hear.
your body sucks him up like you're made for him, lewd, wet noises creating a song between your heated bodies as he sits back up, grinding into your ass, hands on your hips. "there you are... you just earned it back."
"p-please," you cry, hips absentmindedly bucking back into his hard pelvis, rocking with the weight of his being.
"please, what? who?" he lets you toy with him as he fingers through another stack of two bills, oddly underwhelmed and so focused on the task at hand that he's not even watching the way your eager cunt swallows him up, fluttering and begging for more that he can't give.
"please... sir... need you..."
"like it when you beg." he hums, strong hands on your hips, massaging the flesh as he rocks in and out, slowly, maddeningly.
and when you cum, you're covered in it — his money. at the end of the night, you're a thousand dollars richer, and weak in the knees as he helps you to your feet, silent and stern, yet caring in the only way he knows how to be as he cleans you up... until next time.
‧₊˚ ꒰ cw: smut :: reader has a tattoo fixation :: p in v :: unprotected sex :: cr**mp** (i fucking HATE this word.)
a/n: secretly sensitive sukuna u have my heart❤️🩹
The room is thick with the smell of sweat and sex, the air punctuated by your gasps and the wet sound of his cock driving into you. Sukuna’s thrusts are relentless, his hands roaming your body like he’s mapping every curve of it all over again, his lips on your neck, peppering kisses and occasionally biting enough to leave a mark—not that you mind anyway.
His words hit your ear, a low rasp that vibrates through your core. “Takin’ me so—ah—so good, baby. Fuck,” he pants out, his warm breath against your neck sending a shiver through you. His hands rest on your hips, massaging them—surprisingly gentle, despite the rough motions of his hips. His tip kisses your cervix perfectly with every sharp snap of his hips, little moans and mewls leaving your lips every time.
He leans over to grab a pillow, lifting your hips and placing it underneath them. You scramble for purchase, the new angle making you squirm under him as he’s somehow even deeper now, your hands reaching for anything in your reach.
“Fuck—Kuna, ‘s too much,” you whimper, grabbing onto his shoulders, your fingers tracing circles on his inked skin. He tenses slightly under your touch, the muscle shifting under his skin, his hips faltering.
“Shit,” he whispers, dropping his head to your shoulder. “Don’t do that, I’m gonna—fuck!” He cuts himself off with a loud groan as you dig your nails into his skin after a particularly deep thrust.
Your fingers begin to trace the lines of black ink etched into his skin. Your touch is featherlight at first, a careful exploration. Sukuna’s rhythm stutters. His hips slow, the relentless pounding easing into a deep, languid grind.
"Fuck…" he breathes, his voice tight. "Keep doin' that and I'm not gonna last."
But you don't stop. You can't. The tattoos draw you in like a magnetic pull. You trace the sharp lines on his ribs, following it down toward his hip. His cock twitches inside you, and he lets out a low, guttural groan.
His hips falter, and he grinds against you instead of thrusting, trying to regain control. "I’m serious. That touch… it does somethin' to me."
You look up at him, eyes half-lidded, a wicked smile curling your lips. "Does it?" You drag your nails lightly over a cursed mark just below his collarbone, and he jerks, a broken moan escaping his throat.
"Fuckin' hell—" His hands fly to your hips, gripping hard, but he's trembling. A bead of sweat drips from his brow onto your chest. "Nobody's ever… touched 'em like that. Makes me lose my goddamn mind."
Your heart races. You press your palm flat against the largest tattoo on his chest and you can feel his pulse hammering under your hand. You start to rub slow circles into the ink, watching his expression shift from dominant to desperate, his eyes glazing over.
"Kuna," you purr, "let go. I want to feel you come apart."
That's all the permission he needs. His hips snap forward, a sharp, wild rhythm that shoves the air from your lungs. He buries his face in your neck, his breath hot and ragged, and you keep your fingers moving—circling the ink. Every caress draws a choked groan from him, his thrusts becoming erratic, his body tensing.
"Cumming—fuck, I'm cummin'—" His voice breaks on a desperate cry, and he drives into you one last time, deep and hard, his cock pulsing as he spills inside you. His whole body shudders, and he collapses against you, panting, his lips pressing weak, sloppy kisses to your shoulder.
You hold him, still tracing lazy patterns on his tattoos, and he whimpers—actually whimpers—against your skin.
"Don't stop," he mumbles, his voice wrecked. "Touch 'em more. Please."
Your grin widens. Oh, you're going to have so much fun with this.
a/n: pushing the secret!sub!kuna agenda🧎♀️➡️
special thanks to @reesierooooo for giving me the idea to make him get out-dommed. tysm!
about your first big movie just so happens to be in the streets of nyc. in a city that often does not offer solace, you try to find yourself in the loudness it lives in — between rainy taxi drives down the west side highway, late night train rides where you're the only one on the train, and the ‘celebrity life’ with your cast mates. in the middle of it all sits, sukuna; drenched in special access to the top clubs, crimson lights, powdery white lines, and secrets he’d never tell you — offering you a version of the city that feels more like a fever dream than reality. what starts as fascination quickly spirals to a skyscraper of addiction. addiction to the drugs, the toxicity, the chaos, and to each other. you’re not sure you can act your way out of his grip. you’re not entirely sure that you want to.
warnings modern/non canon au, nsfw, power dynamics, toxic relationship, jealousy, drug use, alcohol intake, violence (not towards reader), smut, nightlife/club scene, celebrity life, religious imagery, city life, death, angst/no comfort, each chapter will have its own list of warnings.
note he is here and he is yours, @eraserbread! i hope you find yourself in the rain streaked taxi windows and the trains that rumble under their feet. thank you for loving them just as much as i do. their story is a pretty hard one, it’s painful and unforgiving at times — but it’s raw and real. and i want to use this time to put out a serious disclaimer; nothing here is meant to be romanticized. i am not romanticizing addiction, drug use, toxic relationships, anything. so, please step into their world with an open mind. i hope you treat them, and yourself, with care!
welcome to the #phellymultiverse sukuna. we’ve been waiting <3
one silver girl
two tba
three tba
four tba
five tba
six tba
seven tba
eight tba
nine tba
ten tba
behind the scenes (drabbles/one shots/series where you'd see more of the characters from here) club classic, passion play, charm, promoter!sukuna and his mouth kink
want vip? → comment to be added to the taglist!
art cred: @to00fu for kuna fanart/@saradika-graphics for dividers
husband!simon riley when you've gotten comfortable
before you got married, you always demonstrated the more polished side of yourself. dolling yourself up for dates, wearing the prettiest outfits, and doing your hair in your favorite styles. you kept lipgloss on you at all times, the plumping kind so you'd always figure out when simon got to curious and tried it for himself (he always had to pocket it for you).
simon loved that side of you. the soft, feminine and put together side of you. the one that simon wanted to protect because more often than not, he looked more like a guard dog rather than your boyfriend.
but things changed when you married and moved in, and you weren't put together all the time. you wore baggy clothes you'd stolen from simon, your figure lost in the fabric that fell to just above your knees. your hair tied lazily, or most of the time just a straight mess. your skin void of any makeup, and you just lounged around the house because simon paid all the bills.
and simon fucking loved it. seeing you in a natural state that you trust him with turns him on more than he can admit. he's the type of guy to pause as he passes the couch, shake his head with an accusatory finger jab, mumbling "you tempt me," and walks off like nothing happened.
more often than not, he's taking you to bed. splitting you apart on his cock while you wear his shirt, hair getting even more mussed against the bedding. all while grunting and groaning about how you tempt him every time he enters the house, resisting the urge to bend you over every available—like he doesn't already.
captain john price who bangs his pretty cute girlfriend over his desk while the rest of his team sits awkwardly on the other side.
“open your eyes,” he commands you, his voice deep and rough. “I said, open em. are ya gonna piss me off too?”
and so you find it in you to open them despite the embarrassment that sits low in your gut as he ruts himself into you. It’s not hard to make out who’s in front of you. his warm skin and signature hat makes him easy to identify and as your vision focuses, you can make out the crimson on his cheek and the sweat building on his neck.
you look at him, almost apologetically, as if saying “I’m sorry you have to see me like this,” because Kyle truly is an angel and the idea of his knowing what your eyes looked like when all fucked out seemed like a sin on its own.
first, he calls out soap for texting you late at night. john fists the hair on your head till you’re facing the scot who’s not looking at your eyes, but somewhere lower. “y’know what couples do at night, Mactavish? I’ll give you a hint.” price snakes his arm between your legs, pinching and rolling your clit to which you let out a pained and delicious mewl.
and next in line is gaz, whose gesture of buying you your favorite foods has gone unliked by price. luckily, Gaz is sitting right next to soap so you don’t have to strain yourself to find him. Gaz knows he shouldn’t stare…but he can’t help himself and surprisingly, the captain hasn’t told anyone to stop so he swallows the lump in his throat, and commits the sight before him to memory.
then there’s ghost, who refuses to acknowledge he has actively done anything. “bullshit. wanna tell me why you’re always staring at her ass?” which shuts the brooding man up immediately.
your orgasm comes quick, as it always did. your words come out broken and desperate but they barely register to your boyfriend who has his own agenda.
your eyes roll back as you climax, the euphoria sending you into a blissful state of haze. but john doesn’t stop, not when he has a point to prove.
so he fucks you through your high, and then he fucks you more. your hand presses against his thigh with no real pressure, sobbing cries of overstimulation.
“after today, i want no more foolery from any of you. I’d suggest you take today for all it’s worth because after tonight, you can all go to your beds and jerk off your pathetic cocks to the memory of this and. nothing. else.” he punctuates each word with a sharp thrust, willing either your legs or the desk legs to give out.
“do i make myself clear?”
and the answer all comes in unison. “Yes, Captain.”
You leaned back against the bed, tears on your eyes, they fixed on the photo of the Tinder profile on your phone, you read Gaz's profile.
Was all what was on his profile plus a blurry photo of him.
tall, military man, loves pancakes
His hands were also on the photo, flexing perfectly to draw any women's eyes.
But there wasn't one thing.
The expensive wedding ring that matched yours, which was on your wedding finger.
The same ring he held in that private mission, right after the kind of missions that makes you remember you aren't eternal.
"I promise to be with you, next to you, till the day I die, there's nowhere else I'd rather be whew I would be half as happy as I am with you"
Those words, the sweet memory of them made an ugly sob leave your throat and you threw the phone to the side carelessly.
Vs
Gaz who snatched the phone from Soap's prying hands
"Fuck off mate!, I hate those dating apps shit, and I'm married!, don't you get it?, MARRIED!"
Gaz practically yelled to a laughing Soap, frustrated, he tried to delete that profile, but he was old, and that was noticeable on the weird way he was holding the phone and the even weirder match he had with "Melissa" that sounded a lot like your best friend's name.
It was Ghost who finally hit the back of Soap's head, which made the Scottish yelp, and said coldly
"Not all of us has a wife and kids to go home, Johnny, delete that shit from his phone"
With a terrifying glare that made Soap gulp awkwardly, and take Gaz's phone.
"M', sorry mate, Ghost's right"
Before he could do anything,a small ping was heard from an upcoming notification, Roach read the phone silently before he got a little pale.
"What?" Gaz asked with dread.
Roach cleared his throat, reading out loud the most recent message from Melissa.
"You're a fucker, asshole I'm sending this to your wife"
Before getting blocked.
They all stood frozen as Ghost's eyes fixated on how Gaz's expression crumbled, but before letting the tears fall off he snatched his phone, muttering a curse, grabbed his jacket and left the pub, heart shattering into a million pieces at the thought of you crying in your shared bed.
