yuki tsukumo loves sucking on milf!reader's tits ꒰ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ
even more when you're lactating!
cw: mdni, lactating kink, mommy kink, slight age gap (yuki is in her late 20s, reader in her mid/late 30s)
Yuki is going to be the death of you, with her boldness and charisma, somehow she manages to talk you into anything. She talked you into sitting in her face even if you felt insecure, she convinced you to spank her and she convinced you to let her call you mommy. Now, she’s in her way of sucking your heavy and full of milk tits.
“Pleaseuhhhhh,” she whines, burying her head in your neck, breathing your sweet scent. “Just a tiny sip. It’s going to feel so good.”
You bite your lip, trying to hold steady even as your heart hammers. Your breasts feel so heavy tonight, swollen and tender, the milk making them ache.
She lifts her head just enough to look at you, those pretty eyes all wide and pleading, cheeks a soft pink. Her fingers trace lazy circles on your side, slipping under the hem of your shirt. “Mommy, please. I can see how full you are. They look so pretty and heavy. Don’t you want me to help with that? I’ll be so gentle at first, sucking nice until it stops hurting.”
You shiver at the word mommy, heat pooling low in your belly. “Yuki… I don’t know. It feels kind of embarrassing sometimes.”
She smiles, pressing closer until her body molds against yours. Her voice drops into that coaxing tone she uses when she really wants something. “Baby, no. It’s beautiful. You’re literally making milk for me. Your body is being generous and I want to worship it. I bet it tastes sweet, just like you.”
Her hand slides higher, cupping the underside of one breast through your shirt, lifting it gently like she’s weighing it. You let out a quiet breath, nipples already tightening. Yuki notices right away.
“See? They want it too,” she whispers, nuzzling back into your neck, kissing the skin there with little open-mouthed presses. “They’re leaking a little already, aren’t they? Let me drink, mommy. I’ll make it feel so good for you. You’ll be all wet and throbbing while I nurse on these perfect tits.”
You hesitate, cheeks burning, but she keeps talking. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. Please? Just for a little while. I’ll switch sides so both of them get love. I’ll even clean up any spills with my mouth. No mess left behind.”
She looks up at you again, lips brushing your jaw. “You trust me, right? I made you feel good every time. Remember how you came so hard when I ate you out while you sat on my face? This will be even better. Your milk is part of you and I want all of you. Let me have it, mommy. I need it.”
Your resistance crumbles under her words. She sounds so earnest, so hungry for you, you swallow hard and nod. “Okay… yeah. Just a little, baby. Be careful.”
Yuki’s whole face lights up with pure joy. She doesn’t waste a second, helping you pull your shirt off so your heavy breasts spill free. They’re full, nipples already glistening with a few beads of milk. She stares for a moment, breathing faster.
“God, look at you,” she says softly, cupping both in her hands now, thumbs stroking just under the curves. “So beautiful and ready for my mouth.”
She leans in slow, pressing soft kisses all around one breast first, working closer and closer until her lips hover right over the nipple. “Thank you, mommy,” she whispers, then finally closes her mouth around it.
The first gentle suck pulls a moan from your throat. Warm milk flows into her mouth and Yuki makes this contented little sound, eyes slipping shut as she drinks deeper. Her tongue presses and swirls, drawing more out in steady pulls that send sparks of pleasure through your whole body. It feels intimate and so relieving, the ache easing as she nurses.
She keeps one hand on the other breast, kneading softly, encouraging more milk to leak. Every now and then she pulls back just enough to murmur praise against your skin. “Tastes so sweet… so warm. You’re perfect like this.”
You thread your fingers through her hair, holding her close while she switches to the other side, sucking just as eagerly. The room fills with the slick sounds of her mouth and your quiet gasps. It’s messy in the hottest way, a little milk slipping down her chin as she gets lost in it, but she doesn’t care, she just licks it up and latches on again.
“Mmm,” she hums around your nipple, the vibration making you gasp. Your hips start rocking a little on their own, thighs squeezing together. The pleasure builds so slowly, so intensely, just from her mouth on your tits.
Your breasts feel lighter, the ache turning into pure heat. You are dripping wet, panties soaked, but she never goes lower. It’s all her mouth, her hands holding your tits and her soft moans as she swallows. Every deep suck tugs right at something deep inside you. Your breathing turns into shaky gasps. Yuki notices but doesn’t stop, she just sucks a little firmer, tongue flicking faster.
“Yu… Yuki, wait—”
Suddenly, your whole body tenses, thighs clamping tight as a strong orgasm rolls through you. You come untouched, just from her nursing, waves of pleasure making you cry out softly and tremble against her. Milk flows even more freely as you peak, Yuki drinks it all down with eager little sounds.
You are catching your breath when she finally pulls off with a wet pop, lips shiny and a little milk dripping down her chin. She looks up at you with sparkling eyes, a playful grin spreading across her face.
“Did you just cum from that?” she asks, she licks her lips slowly, tasting you. “Babe, oh my god. You came just from me sucking on your tits? That’s so hot. I barely even started and you were shaking.”
“I-I wasn’t expecting it to feel that good,” you say breathless, head hiding in the pillow.
She giggles softly and nuzzles back against your chest, pressing a kiss to one sensitive nipple. “Mhm. I was. Can I do it again sometime? Please? I love making you feel this way.”
You know you will let her do this whenever she wants.
you’re not stupid. you know exactly what suguru is doing.
the first time, he does it so carelessly that you persuade yourself it's nothing at all. he’s carrying heavy grocery bags into the kitchen, veins bulging on his thick forearms that are currently straining against the plastic handles, and then, right as he passes your chair: “nnnhh—ahhh, fuck.”
it’s a soft, breathy purr, like he just couldn’t hold it back. you seize up, surprise and confusion hitting you at the same time as your face heats instantly. and he has the nerve to peek at you over his shoulder, mauve eyes wide and feigning surprise. “ah, sorry 'bout that. heavy bags.”
then there’s the mornings. he wakes up unrushed and lifts his arms above his head with a sluggish yawn, his back arching into a curve that hoists his shirt up ever so slightly, making him utter the most sinful sound has ever graced the earth.
“mmhh—ohhh god… yeahhhh.” and he does it without an ounce of shame too, as if a porn soundtrack in your bedroom at 8 a.m. is nothing extraordinary.
you choke on your breathe, clutching to the blankets a little too hard. when you glare at him, he only shushes you with a patronizing little tsk from across the pillows, cutting off your irritation before it can even start. “what? felt good to stretch. can't blame a guy.”
after that, it’s constant. sighs that sound just a little too much like wet moans, throaty hums when he pulls his raven hair loose from its man bun, even a breathless "ahhh—fuck” when he drops his bulky build onto the couch. each and every little sound is intentional and well-calculated. you can’t prove it, but god—he knows exactly what he’s doing.
the worst, though, is when you’re massaging his shoulders after a tiring day spent battling with curses. he’s sitting on the floor between your legs, head slumped forward to expose the long line of his neck, letting you release the thick knots in his back.
“oh-ohhh fuck, yes. right there—god, you are so good with your hands.” he drags the words out like they belong in a private bedroom, pitching into a whinier, petulant cadence which makes your pulse spike immediately.
you pause, your fingers paralyzed. “suguru. stop.” he turns his head for you to observe his lazy smile, his bottom lip jutting out just the tiniest bit in a petty pout. “whattt? i’m talking to them, not you. your hands just have a mind of their own, baby.”
you press harder into the muscle, trying to punish the smugness out of him, but the heel of your hand just forces another whimper out. “ahhh, mhhnn—yes, baby, harder... right there—”
that sly fucker.
“you're—you're doing that on purpose!”
“doing what?” he cranes his neck to look at you, eyes all wide innocence while he fights to maintain a solemn facade. “i can’t control how good it feels, no?"
his head tilts back into your lap, chasing the press of your thumbs like a curious puppy begging for attention; a satisfied, wet hum spilling from his throat.
“mnhm… don’t stop. they’re the only ones who are ever nice to me after a long day.”
his weight leans more densely into your hands, forcing your thighs to squeeze together to steady him, and that’s when you notice the tiny tilt of his hips. the thin cotton of his grey sweatpants is tenting just slightly, flimsy fabric straining with the pulsing outline of his cock. every touch of your fingers drags the material tighter, causing a dark patch to bleed across the cloth.
“you’re absolutely disgusting.” though, your voice lost all of it's footing already.
suguru lets out a throaty laugh at that as if it's the most funny thing he'd ever heard today, foxy eyes crinkling even further with humour. “am i, really? or are you just finally noticing?”
as though to back up his claim, suguru junior twitches violently beneath the thin cotton, a long ridge pressing boldly against his right thigh, to be exact. he tips his head all the way back, presenting you the elation of the smirk actively feeding his handsome face.
“don't interrupt my time with your hands now. i still wanna see what other things they can do."
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. romcom-esque meet cute. except it’s actually a meet embarrassing + satoru runs a strict program. cw. profanities as usual ˖ ࣪ . ࿐
in the grand scheme of things, this bet would be a piece of cake if your so-called friends had just let you do your thing. alas, every time you’d so much as tried to drift towards satoru’s corner of the room, they would block your path with flimsy excuses.
shoko needed help finding her phone; which was in her pocket the whole time.
utahime suddenly needed your help touching up her makeup.
and suguru just flat-out stood in front of you, arms crossed and expression grim. he’d also refused to answer your plethora of questions about satoru in an attempt to deter you from going through with this and lengthening his own life span.
by the end of the night, you’d managed to catch exactly zero moments alone with satoru. he’d left the party early, of course. probably to go study or do something that’s equally as boring. which was a shame because you’d thought of the perfect pick up line and everything.
( ‘according to newton’s law of universal gravitation, if i’m attracted to you then you’re attracted to me’. okay . . you didn’t actually think of it. you’d found it after searching up ‘nerdy pick up lines’ on google and you were certain it would’ve worked on him. maybe
shoko strongly felt otherwise and murmured something about how you should ask him to share his electrons with you instead, so you could finally have a stable relationship. how rude ?? )
so far you’ve had no luck with satoru, and suguru is determined to make sure things stay that way. unfortunately for him, you aren’t going to back down that easily. you know exactly how to get him to stop intercepting your every move: bribery.
instead of nursing your hangover in the comfort of your dorm room, you drag yourself out of bed and trudge to the cafe near campus. it has a partnership with jujutsu tech so you get discounts, which is a bonus. the pastries are great, which is another. plus, suguru is a complete and utter sucker for their vanilla bean cold brews – a fact you’re fully prepared to exploit.
so here you are, standing by the counter waiting for your order, one hand pressed to your throbbing temple while the other scrolls aimlessly through your phone.
the cafe is quiet for late morning – save for the soft hum of espresso machines, the murmurs of students half-heartedly revising for finals, and the clatter of dainty mugs against saucers. rays of sunlight shroud the cafe in a soft, hazy glow. the scent of roasted coffee beans and warm golden pastries lingers in the air, rich and soothing in a way that almost makes your hangover feel bearable. almost.
your head is pounding – a direct result of your questionable life choices – and you can still taste the ghost of last night’s cheap vodka on your tongue. every time you close your eyes you see the image of toji’s smug grin as he’d paraded his new sorority girl around the party.
you push the thought away, focusing on the task at hand. you’re halfway through reading shoko and utahime’s texts about how you’re definitely going to lose this bet and how they’ve started their own bet on how many days it’ll take you to give up, when something catches the corner of your eye. you look up. and there he is in the corner of the cafe, satoru gojo.
he sits by the window, surrounded by what can only be described as a fortress of textbooks. the titles alone make your head hurt. he’s hunched over his laptop, shoulders curved inward in concentration, fingers flying across the keyboard with a speed that’s almost inhuman. a pair of navy blue noise cancelling headphones are clamped over his ears, shutting out the rest of the cafe entirely.
he somehow looks even more intense than he did at the party last night. he’s like a different species to you, one that doesn’t belong in the wild of a psi bau rager™. he belongs here, in this quiet, sun-drenched corner, surrounded by books.
every now and then he pauses, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose with an irritated flick before returning to whatever it is he’s typing. the mellow sunlight filters through the strands of his pale hair, turning them almost silver, and frames his pretty features in a mellow glow.
you find yourself staring longer than you mean to. he’s so . . . focused. so unbothered. he’s living in a completely different world, a world of equations and theories and things you can’t even begin to understand, and he doesn’t seem to care that anyone else exists. it’s a level of self-assurance you’ve never encountered before. completely unlike the guys you usually date, who are all desperate for validation.
your name is called from the counter and you step forward automatically, grabbing the drinks – a disgustingly large black coffee for suguru and a ridiculously sweet caramel latte for yourself – without taking your eyes off satoru. he still hasn’t looked up. not once. if he isn’t going to notice you . . . you’ll just have to make him.
you stand there in the middle of the cafe for a moment, pondering. a smile slowly tugs at the corners of your lips. this is perfect. he’s completely unsuspecting, a perfect target. you can do this. you can totally do this.
you adjust your grip on the drinks and start walking towards his table, a plan forming in your mind. something that will force him to look at you, to see you.
closer now, you notice the faint crease between his brows as he reads something on his screen. you can also hear the faint rhythm of what sounds suspiciously like minecraft music seeping from his headphones. you have to suppress a giggle. of course he listens to video game music.
you’re practically hovering over him and he’s still oblivious to you, lost in his own little world.
you take one final step past his chair and let your foot catch the leg of it. your body lurches forward and your latte slips in your hand, a perfect arch of creamy coffee flying directly towards his laptop.
“oh my–” the gasp leaves your lips right on cue. a wave of caramel latte, complete with extra whipped cream, splashes across his table, narrowly missing his textbooks. you didn’t mean to spill that much. a few drops, maybe, to create a moment, a reason to talk. well shit.
to his credit, satoru reacts faster than you expect him to. his arm shoots out, shielding his keyboard as your drink splashes on the table, dangerously close to his belongings. the minecraft music in his headphones cuts off as he yanks them down around his neck, his head snapping up. his eyes, a startlingly bright blue, lock onto yours, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. they’re even more intense up close and are currently filled with a flicker of annoyance.
“careful,” he frowns. you feel your morale sink ever so slightly. that. . . was not the reaction you were expecting. no flustered stammering or no immediate concern for your well-being. he immediately begins inspecting his laptop to check for damages, his brow furrowed in concentration, long fingers carefully wiping away the droplets of coffee from the sleek black casing.
“i’m so sorry,” you apologize profusely, setting down suguru’s coffee and what’s left of yours on the sticky table. you grab a handful of napkins from the nearby dispenser and start dabbing at the lukewarm droplets, feeling your heat rise to your cheeks. this is not going according to plan. at all.
“it’s alright, it’s just coffee,” he finally looks up again, his bright blue eyes focused in a way that makes you feel like you’re being scrutinized under a microscope. it’s unnerving but he’s not angry, not really. you think ?
“i’m such a klutz honestly,” you sigh, trying to recover with a charmingly self-deprecating smile, one that usually works on guys. “i’m literally a natural disaster, i could’ve ruined your textbooks.”
his expression doesn’t change in the slightest. “technically,” he says after a beat of silence, his devoid of any emotion, “that would be more of an anthropogenic accident.”
“. . . what ?” you blink, momentarily stunned. did this guy just correct your metaphor ? who does that ?
“you’re a human,” he explains, as if that isn’t the most obvious thing in the world, “natural disasters occur without human intervention. what you’re describing is an accident caused by human error.”
silence settles between you as satoru watches you clean the table. you wish the earth would soften, open up and swallow you whole. but it doesn’t. you just stand there, dabbing at a sticky table with a handful of napkins, feeling like a complete and utter idiot.
“if you hold your cup closer to the middle,” he offers, tone still matter-of-fact, “it stabilizes the center of gravity.”
“huh ?” you’re completely bewildered by the peculiarity of this cursed interaction. this was not supposed to happen. you were supposed to have a cute, flirty meet-cute, not a freaking physics lesson.
“the middle,” he repeats patiently, gesturing towards your half-empty latte “gripping it higher makes it more liable to tipping. lower your grip, closer to the center of mass, and you’ll have more control.”
you stare at him. for a split second you think he’s joking. his expression says he’s absolutely not. he looks like he’s about to tell you to read a book because your stupid is showing
“. . . right,” you say slowly, feeling completely out of your depth. you’ve never been so thoroughly derailed in your life.
he sets his laptop back on the table once he’s positive his work is no longer endangered, his movements precise and economical.
“you won’t have as many accidents that way,” he murmurs, already turning his attention back to his screen, effectively dismissing you. you press the napkin flat against the table one last time, feeling utterly defeated.
“i’ll. . uhh. .keep that in mind,” you mumble, backing away from his table.
he nods, barely acknowledging you, and closes his laptop with a decisive click. he slips it, alongside his textbooks, into his bag before standing.
“sorry again,” you try one last time, desperate for some kind of. . .anything. but he’s already slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
“it’s no problem,” he says politely as he steps around you, “i have to go anyway.” he gives you a brief, impersonal nod before walking out the cafe without another word. the bell above the door jingles softly behind him. and just like that he’s gone.
you stand there in the middle of the cafe completely dumbfounded. the interaction lasted less than ten minutes and meant absolutely nothing to him. he didn’t even ask for your name. he didn’t even smile at you.
satoru is proving to be a difficult target. he really isn’t making this easy for you. you pick up your drinks again – carefully from the middle this time – and head toward the door. holy. fucking. airball. this is a million times harder than you’d anticipated.
“there’s no way you spilled your coffee on purpose” suguru splutters, clutching his stomach where he lies sprawled across his unmade bed. his body shaking with laughter as you recount the series of unfortunate events you’d endured this morning.
“i did ! and maybe i’ve watched too many movies but i thought he would at least help me clean it up or crack a joke or something. but no !” you lament, flopping onto a bean bag chair with a dramatic sigh. “all he did was give me a physics lesson. that was so freaking humiliating i’m never going back to the cafe again.”
shoko, who’s perched on the edge of suguru’s desk, wipes a tear from her eyes. “fuck, i wish i could’ve seen it.”
“shut up,” you grumble, burying your face in a pillow. “i lost so much aura and i’m starting to realize that this is genuinely impossible. he’s like a robot.”
“he’s not a robot,” suguru laughs, “you can’t just stumble into his life and expect him to be completely obsessed with you. you’ve gotta speak his language first.”
“and what language is that ? fucking javascript ??”
“ha, you’re funny,” suguru finally sits up and runs a hand through his messy hair. “you just need a legit reason to be around him. one that appeals to his genius brain.”
“like what ?” you sigh, lifting your head to look at him. “we have literally nothing in common, i fear. and he clearly isn’t big on conversations. . so unless i resort to contacting an etsy witch he’s not gonna give me the time of day”
“or just ask him to tutor you” shoko quips, eyes lighting up as she lights her cigarette, ignoring suguru’s protests about her smoking in his room.
you groan, sinking further into the bean bag. “in what ? we have absolutely zero classles together.”
“exactly !” she grins, taking a long drag from her cigarette. “because he’s in the honors college and he’s so wrapped up in his own world, he probably has no clue what you’re majoring in. so you tell him you’re struggling in something that’s a piece of cake to him–”
“why the hell are you helping her ??” suguru interjects, shooting her a well-meaning glare
“i bet utahime that she’d at least last a week” she shrugs, “i’m sitting on a decent pay day here”
“i hate all of you” you scoff. “and that’s not even going to work anyway, i’m pre-law and he’s into engineering and other confusing stem stuff that i wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole.”
“well, tough luck,” shoko murmurs, blowing a perfect smoke ring. “if you plan on asking for help in any other courses you might as well admit defeat right now and swear off men for the rest of college.”
“so what ? do i just pretend to be a stem major to trick him into spending time with me ?” you ask, the idea sounding more and more absurd the more you think about it. how would you even pull that off . . .?
“if you’re actually gonna go through with this nonsense,” suguru sighs, flopping back onto his bed, “you might as well fully commit to the bit. what’s one more lie on top of this whole clusterfuck ?”
you frown at him, but he’s right. if you want to get satoru to fall in love with you, then you’ll have to go about this properly. you chew on the inside of your cheek thoughtfully, you can’t think of any alternatives that would result in satoru really noticing you. so, reluctantly, you settle on the only option you have:
you’ll fake being a struggling physics major and hope he doesn’t see right through you.
the concept of reshaping yourself entirely to catch the attention of someone who’s practically a stranger sounds absurd the more you think about it. but it’s a little too late to back down now. the bet is made, the stakes are set, and your pride is on the line.
“fine,” you say, folding your arms over your chest. “i’ll do it. but you two,” you point at shoko and suguru, “if i go down, i’m taking you with me.”
suguru groans, dragging a hand over his face. “i knew i should’ve just walked the other way freshman year”
“it’s wayyy too late for that,” you grin, “now, tell me everything you know about physics, shoko, i need to sound convincing. oh and i’ll probably need to borrow your textbooks too. . . how heavy are they ?”
a wry smile spreads across shoko’s lips. “heavy enough to knock satoru out with, if you need a backup plan.”
“don’t give her any more ideas,” suguru pales visibly, his hazel eyes wide with horror that seems a little too genuine for your liking. just how little does he think of you ?
“hey, i got you coffee,” you pout, gesturing to the forgotten cup on his nightstand. “you’re supposed to be helping me now.”
“me . . help you . .? y’know souta’s room is right across the hallway,” suguru points out, his voice dropping to a whisper. “if he gets me in my sleep, what use will coffee be to me ?”
“he’s not actually going to kill you,” you wave your hand dismissively. “c’mon, shoko let’s ditch the drama queen. i wanna go look at your textbooks.”
with a solid plan in hand, you’re starting to feel a little more confident about winning satoru over.
you’re smart. you can totally fake your way through physics tutoring. sure, it’ll be boring. mind-numbingly, soul-crushingly boring. but it’s just a bunch of laws and formulas, right ? it’s not like you have to actually do anything except pretend to understand it. plus, you’re a fast learner. what could possibly go wrong ?
masterlist day zero ⇆ day one
── .✦ mimi’s notes: ^ the answer to that question is everything !! i mean what’s newton’s third law of motion ? don’t be deceived ( like nerdjo ) i hate physics passionately
theartofmadeline
titsay
discoholicmusic
stormborns
tangentwithtanner
kaledo-art
