“C'monnn, what do you even do in your house on a saturday evening??!” your best friend whined, forcing you, yet again, to go out with her.
“Hmmm let me think… oh I know! I rest! Like what a normal person would after five days of being a work slave” you sarcastically reply, making her pout.
“That's so unfair, we have the same work y'know. You really gotta loosen up. When's the last time you got laid since you broke up with your good-for-nothing, lying, bastard of an ex? Oh I know! 10 months ago!” she counter attacked, prompting you to cross arms and roll your eyes at her.
“If I go with you tonight, are you gonna leave me alone for the next three weeks?”
“Make it two and it's a deal!” She squealed.
You sighed. “Ugh fine. Where do you wanna go anyway?” clasping her hands together at your question, eyes sparkling.
“Before I tell you, promise you won't back out”
She said, squinting her eyes.
“I don't really have a choice now do I. Yeah, fine whatever. Where?”
“There's a newly opened strip club in town. I heard the men are smoking hot. Plus the drinks and food are yum yum too. We shouuuuld check it out” she replied, grinning from ear-to-ear.
“No fucking way. I'd rather sleep” you shrugged.
________________________________________
“Oh. My. God.” your best friend said, jaw dropped to the floor as she squealed your name like there's a fire. “You look sooooo absolutely hot!!” you can't help but smile at her remarks. It really has been a while since you got ready except for work.
“You're just saying that so I don't stay home” you teased her.
She glared at you and says, “I'd literally fuck you right now”
“Don't threaten me with a good time” you say, biting your lip. Then you two bursted out laughing.
“Thanks babe, I'd fuck you too.” You said, returning her peculiar compliment.
Looking back again in the mirror, you admire yourself. You're wearing a black miniskirt, with a deep plunge top, your cleavage out and about, black tights, and red bottoms to finish the look. “Damn, I do look good” you whisper to yourself. Fixing your hair and makeup one last time.
“You ready, hottie?” your best friend asked.
“Yep, let's get this over with.”
________________________________________
Loud music entered your senses as you and your best friend walked in the club. You squint your eyes as the lights hit your eyes. It wasn't packed but not empty either, the perfect amount of people for you. “We're lucky, there's literally no people” she said, making you look at her in disbelief but she just laughs anyway.
“Let's get drinks first” you suggested, pointing at the bar.
“Good idea” You guys headed over the stools to sit, waiting for the bartender to take your orders as he fixed someone else's drink.
“Good evening ladies, what can I get for you?” the bartender finally walked up in front of you.
“I'll have a martini, please” you say, giving the bartender a slight smile.
“What about you, miss?” he asked, turning to your friend.
“Cosmopolitan for me!” she exclaimed.
“Impeccable taste, ladies. I'll get it done in 3 minutes” the bartender said as he started to make your drinks.
“This is a strip club, right?” you ask, looking around.
“That's what I told you, yeah” your friend bluntly responded.
“I don't see any of those men” you say, not intending to sound disappointed.
“Ooohh someone's hungry for some good ol' dick I see” she teased, nudging her elbows at your side. “I think they'll come out in a bit, don't worry.”
“I'm not hungry for some dick. I just expected them to be dancing on that stage like right now.”
“Yeah yeah, whatever you sayyy” her tone sounding mischievous.
________________________________________
After a few laughs while you two finished your drinks, the stage lit up in red light, matching the red background, white spot lights moving around, and the lively music got switched to a sexy one.
“Oh my god, here they come!!” the girl beside you yelped as she stood from the stool, dragging you to sit in front of the stage.
You sat on the left side of the stage, as the other people occupied the other ones with a better view. Making your best friend pout. “Damn it, we literally got the worst seat. I bet the men in front would be the hottest” she said, shaking her head as you hummed in response.
Or so you thought.
Once the men came out, the one in front of you got your mouth watering. They were all shirtless but he's so distinct. His physique is unbelievably human. He's tall, biceps looking like it can crush your skull, his abs sculpted, big chest, and you can tell his legs are just as big as the rest of him, because his pants are clinging ever so tightly.
Oh, and that fucking face. Green eyes glowing in contrast to the red background as the white party lights hit his face. The visible scar on his lip, making him even more sexy.
You pressed your legs together, silently whimpering only you can hear. “What a man” you mutter to your friend, eyes glued to him.
“Damn, you got your target already. Not my type tho, he's too big for me. I like slanky ones. I'mma go there, you stay here with your man.” she said, pointing at the other man.
“What? No don't leave m—” And she did, leaving you alone on that section of the stage. You smiled a bit at the thought of him being all “yours”.
Once they got into their formation, they started to dance. Their bodies move in rhythm with the music. People started to throw money on stage. Some whistled and shouted, “Take it all off!”
Your eyes, still glued to the man. As he got closer to you, still moving his body to the music, his eyes bore into yours. You panicked and looked away. “You getting all shy on me now, doll? After looking at me like you'll eat me whole?” your eyes snap back, glaring at him. He let out a deep chuckle, making your pussy throb.
“Hmm you got wet, didn't cha?” he said, as he got off stage, along with the other men. The people absolutely loving it, making them squeal like a bunch of teenagers seeing their crushes. Some grinded on them, as they put money in the men's pockets.
“What the fuck? You don't say that to a woman” you said while raising an eye brow
“I know, but we're in a strip club aren't we? And ‘yer obviously enjoying the view as we speak” he said, grinning, your body tensing when he finally got in front of you. His body, rolling to the music, causes his muscles to flex in every movement he executes. “I'll stop if you don't throw me some money” he coos.
You immediately reached for your wallet in your bag, grabbing a few paper bills and handing it to him. “Put it in my pocket” he says, as he grinds his upper body on you, making you feel so small by how massive he is. You put the money in both of his pockets, earning a smile from him. Your heart skipped a beat at his gesture.
“The name's Toji. What ‘bout you, doll?” He said, going behind you, rubbing his toned front on your cold back. You hissed a little from the sudden feeling of warmth from his body, turning your head to look as you told him your name. “Hmm pretty name for a pretty girl”
A few more minutes, then the music stopped. The men halted their dancing. The people groaned and complained for more. Which you did too, internally, at least. Some men stayed on the tables, mingling with the customers, while some went backstage. “Time's up” he said, clicking his tongue.
Toji was about to walk out, but he stopped his tracks when you said, “How much for a night?”
He turned his head to look at you, smirking the fuck out, his scar rising on his face. “I don't fuck customers, sweetheart” Your brows frowned at his response.
“Why not?” you try to sound composed, in which you failed.
He walked back, now standing in front of you. “Cuz I'm a stripper and not a prostitute” he said, tilting his head as his eyes stared deeply into yours.
“Hmm fair enough” you got up from your seat, and straightened yourself. Your face meeting his pecs. Toji backed up a little. “Have a good night, then” you finally say, walking away from him, finding your best friend.
He stayed in his place, his eyes following your figure moving along the crowd, denying the fact that his cock got hard at the sight of you. Toji shook his head and turned his heel as he walked backstage.
________________________________________
You've been searching the whole place for your best friend, but she's nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, your phone chimed.
twin <3 : hey babes, sorry for running on you. I didn't wanna disturb you since it looked like you were having the best time of your life ;)) I'm ‘bout to have some myself. love you, be careful! ♡
You sighed at her message and exited the club to find a taxi.
You walked along the road, the city still alive. Lights flickering on shops, people all dressed up for night out, having the best time of their lives. You sneered at yourself, remembering the embarrassing moment.
You spotted a taxi. You signal the driver as you wait on the road side.
Unexpectedly, before the taxi could even park in front of you, a man held your arm from behind. You quickly turn your body to face him, ready to throw some hands. But– “Toji?”
“Fuck, how the hell did you get so far already?” he said, his chest panting from running. He then went to the taxi driver and apologized for being called, handing a 10 dollar bill. The driver only scoffed.
“Okay, what the fuck is happening?” you ask him, aggravated.
“Your place.”
________________________________________
“Ahhh f-fuckk!” his fingers slid and moved past your panties. Your back against the front door, holding on dearly to his shoulders, your other leg held up by his arm, as he fucks you with his thick digits.
“You're taking my fingers so good, doll. Gotta make sure ‘yer all nice and ready to take my cock, hmm?” he coos, looking down at your whimpering figure. Rubbing his bulge against your leg.
Everything happened all too fast. After giving him your address, the ride was quiet. Toji's eyes glanced at your exposed chest and thighs every now and then, as you nibbled on your lower lip, contemplating whether this situation is a good idea or not. But one thing's for sure.
You need to get fucked.
By him.
“Aughh r-right there!” his finger curled inside your walls, making you arch your back.
“Yeahh? You gonna cum for me, baby?” he said with a grin, then smashed his lips into yours. You nodded your head as you kiss each other desperately. His fingers go iiiin and ouuut of you so easily, making his pace even faster.
“Hmmpp!” you moaned in his mouth, feeling your stomach tighten at the long lost familiar feeling. You held his face and pulled away from the kiss, “T-tojiii I'm gonna— ohh fuckkkk” you cry out, reaching your orgasm.
He bit his lip at the sight of you— mouth in a silent o, chest rising and falling, your eyes going to the back of your head, and your nails digging on his shoulders which will likely leave marks. “Good girl. Let it all out, baby” Toji encourages you, causing your orgasm to last longer.
This is the feeling you've been desperately aching for. No matter what facade you put on, acting like you're not touch deprived. Deep inside, you've been tired of just touching yourself.
“You all right, doll?”
Your eyes fix themselves and look into his green ones. “Y-yeah. I'm fine, it's just that it's been a while since I last— ah!” your words got cut off when he flashed you a grin. His other arm held onto your standing leg, making you straddle his waist.
“Where's your room?” he asked, tightening his hold on you, your chests pressed together. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned into his ear, biting it.
“Upstairs, first door on the left.” he hummed as he took heavy and quick steps towards your bedroom. Your mouth moves from Toji's ear to his jaw, giving him soft kisses.
As you take your sweet time kissing his face, you didn't even notice him open the door. Toji slammed both of your bodies onto your soft mattress, his massive body caging you as you're helplessly underneath him. “Look at you, so fucking needy for me. Did ‘ya instantly get wet when you saw me on that stage?”
“Urgh, just fuck me already” your tone sounding infuriated. He chuckled.
“Answer my question first. C'mon, let me hear you say it” you look at him with annoyance.
“Well… y-yeah” you say to him, your eyes avoiding his stare.
“Theeeeeere you go. Besides, a pretty doll like you ain't taking my cock unless I have a taste first.” Toji's hands quickly yanked your top off, releasing your breasts making them bounce off. His eyes glimmer at the sight, mouth going to your boob as if there's magnet to it. Your other boob's not left neglected, toji's hand massaged it, feeling his calloused fingers rub against your soft skin. His mouth goes back and forth on your boobs. Tongue licking your nipple and slightly biting it, provoking you to yelp from the pleasurable pain.
He lowers his mouth to your sternum, eyes locking with yours as he makes his way all the way dooooown. Toji stopped when he came face to face with your clothed cunt. You closed your legs, feeling embarrassed.
“Open up, baby. Let me see you” Toji's hands grabbed both your thighs, parting your legs apart. You then shivered when you felt his breath on your cunt. He smirked when you tensed up, hooking his fingers on your lace panties and taking them off nice and slow. “Eaaaasy baby, I'm not gonna eat you— That's what I'd say if I was lying” he said as he dove right in.
“Mnghhh! ” your hand grabbed his hair when the flat of his tongue lapped up and down your dripping pussy.
“Fuck, doll. You taste so fucking sweet” he says pulling his majestic face away, slightly. Then, both of his hands grabbed the back of your knee and pressed them into your body, exposing your pussy more for all his glory, giving him a nice view of how you clench around nothing. He grunted at the sight as he went back for more.
His tongue circles your puffy clit begging for attention. “T-tojii ahhh!” you cry out when he sucked it.
“Mhmm sho fucking goood” he babbled against your pussy, his eyes never leaving yours. The lewd sounds of licking and slurping echo around your bedroom as he eats you like a man starved for five years. He slides in a finger, continuing to nibble on your clit.
“S-shittt yes! Feels so good— ‘ji ahh” this might just be heaven. Toji adds another finger in, making you completely lose your damn mind. Your legs shake as you can feel your climax build up, for the second time. He curled his fingers inside you again and again, his mouth still glued to your clit as you finally reached your high. ‘Ohhhh! Keep goingggg”, your hips buck around his face, as he licks up every drop of your sweet juices.
Your body calms when he moves away from your pussy, sitting up on his knees. Not long enough, when his thumb rubbed with your now sensitive nub. You flinched when he pressed harder as he drew circles. “T-too muchhh!” you sobbed, eyes watering from overstimulation. Your quivering legs quickly shut, but his hand is still on your pussy. He continued to torture your clit, urging you to cry. “P-pleaseee no more” you whimpered, fighting the strength of his hand.
With a satisfied sneer on his face, he lets go of you. “You're already such a fucking mess and you haven't even seen my cock yet” he shakes his head teasingly, his unused thumb wipe away your tears. He leaned into your body, catching your trembling lips. The kiss he's giving you this time is soft, as if he's soothing your exhausted body.
Your hand reached for the hem of his shirt, tugging it. Toji took the signal and removed his shirt. Your hands explore every crevice of his upper body. When he pulled away from the kiss, you admired the perfect body on top of you. It's not the first time you saw him shirtless, but fuck. He looks so much hotter right now. A drool shamelessly escaped the corner of your mouth.
“Awww ‘yer drooling, doll. Like what you see?” he snickered, while wiping it off.
“I want you inside me, toji. Need your dick fill me up. Please.” Your eyes look at him in pure desperation, hand moving down from his abs to his bulge being covered still by his tight pants.
“Shiiit, baby.” his head lulled back at your touch. Toji stood up and began to strip off. He removed his pants along with his boxers. Your eyes widen. What you didn't prepare for is that one hell of a monster between his legs. Thick, long, and heavy. It even swung when he walked back to the bed. Your expression earned a smug smirk from him.
“No fucking way that's real. You got it done, didn't you? Be honest” you blurted out, eyes still opened wide.
Toji laughed hysterically at your comment, getting on bed and walking with his knees, and positioned himself between your legs. “Fuck you mean I got it done? This is all organic, doll” he says, whilst providing himself a stroke. His tip is glistening with beads of precum, all red and puffy. You licked your bottom lip and reached for his cock, making it throb. Toji hisses at your touch.
“It's so big,” you big your lip. “I don't know if it can fit,” you hesitantly say to the man.
“Oh sweetheart. ‘Course it'll fit. I'll stretch you nice and good, make you feel just how fucking real my cock is” He placed his tip at your entrance and rubbed it on your clit. You both moaned in unison. He leaned down your body and kissed your forehead.
“Hold onto me, baby. ” He says, aligning his length to your hole. You wrap your arms around him, as his face rests on the crook of your neck.
“Oh fuckkkk!!” you yelped, when he finally entered you. Although he slid in pretty easily from your slick, it still hurt ‘cus of how big he is.
“Fuck, you're tight, ” he hissed on your neck. “Easy now. Relax for me” he starts to penetrate his cock into yours, going in and out. A few strokes and the pain is completely replaced by pleasure.
“Mnghhh— feels good now, toji” your nails scratch his back. With your words, he pounds into you at a quickened pace.
“That's fuuuucking it. There you go, doll. ‘Yer taking me so fucking good” he praises you. “Holy fuck you got even more wet. You like being praised, huh? How ‘bout I call you a slut? ‘Cus that's what you are, aren't you? Throwing yourself at me like a fucking whore in heat.” you moaned at his words, mind scrambled. The praise and degradation riling you up. Completely dumb fucked.
“D-deeper tojiii” you whimper against his neck.
“Deeper, huh?” and god, you wish the words didn't come out of your mouth. Because his hands grab the back of your thighs, and pressed them on your upper body, as he throws himself over, making you feel all his weight. Forcing you in a mating press, folding you in half.
“A-ahhh!” you cry out, as you feel him reach a spot that had you seeing stars. Toji's tip is kissing your sweet sweet spot in every thrust. Your boobs bouncing in every move he gives you.
“Oh yeeeahhh. Feel how deep I am now, baby?” he looks at you, grinning like a motherfucker. His hand presses on your lower tummy, “Look. That's how—fuck! nghh deep I am in you, doll” he says looking down, making you do so too. You notice an evident bulge make its mark on your tummy in every thrust.
He's pounding into you so deep, his balls clap against your ass. You're both a moaning mess. He groans your name as he fucks your pussy relentlessly. A white ring forming on his base from your mixed juices.
“Come on, baby. Cum for me” Toji says, as he kisses your lips sweetly— completely in contrast by how mean he's going to your other lip.
You feel a knot in your stomach. “Mhmmpp,” you broke away from the kiss. “T-toji I'm c-close— ahh! Keep going!” he continues to pound into you. A few more of those and then you came undone. Legs shaking, your pussy dripping from your slick, your hands tugging on his hair, as you orgasm. You moaned and moaned and moaned. Which he did, in return. Your name came out like a sweet melody from his mouth.
“F-fuckk. I'm close, baby. Don't you give up on me— ahh take me” his brows furrowed, trying to chase his high.
“Shit shitttt. Toji I feel like I'm gonna pee— stopppp” you cry out. He didn't listen and proceeded to reach his orgasm.
“Mnghhh, ‘s okay. Let it out, baby. Put on a show f'me.” not taking you seriously, he even starts to rub your perked clit with his thumb. You couldn't hold it in—
“Fuuuuuuckkk!! Tojiiii” you shrieked, squirting on his stomach. Your eyes are spilling tears from the overwhelming pleasure. Not long, the sight helped him cum.
“Ohhhh fuck.” He grunted, finally reaching his orgasm. His cum shoots, warming up your insides, some spilling out. He stopped his movements and looked down at you, before pulling his cock out. Upon laying his eyes on you, he couldn't help but smile. “Look at the mess you made. You did so good for me, doll” he kissed your lips.
Your body is totally worn out. You can't even speak, or think straight. He finally got up and asked, “You got any towels here?” his voice sweet.
“Mhmm bathroom” you say, his head nodding in response. After a while, he came back with a towel. He cleaned himself up prior as you can tell by how the glisten on his stomach is gone, as well as the mess on his cock and thighs. Toji reached over to wipe you down with the damp cloth. You yelped when he ran over your pussy, still overstimulated. He chuckled.
“My bad, sweetheart. Damn, you okay?” he asks, now concerned.
“You fucking with me?” you retort, while scoffing.
“I mean, I just did. Hard and good too, mind you.” he continues to tease you. You didn't have any more energy left in you, so you just rolled your eyes at him. He tossed the towel somewhere on the floor before going to bed and lay down with you.
"Thought you didn't fuck customers"
"Hmm you weren't in the club when I approached you, doesn't make 'ya a customer" he bluntly replied, shrugging his shoulders.
His hands slip on your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your back pressed against his chest. Once you feel his warmth creep onto yours, you melt away and drift to sleep.
________________________________________
You got woken up by the sunlight blinding your eye. Your body is sore. Especially between your legs. You look over your side, hoping to find the one hell of a man.
But, you are left all alone on your bed. You grunted and laid flat on your back. “Shit” you muttered to yourself. After mustering all your strength, you finally got up. As you stood by the bed, you saw a piece of paper on your bed side table.
Hey doll, last night was amaaazing ;) Unfortunately, I have to leave early. My babysitter is threatening me that he'll cut my head off if I don't come home right this instant. Nice house btw.
His number was written at the back with a matching “Call me if you want ;))”
You sighed and crumpled the paper, throwing it in your bin. “Yeah, as if. This will never fucking happen again” you say to yourself.
________________________________________
I took down my first post, cus I thought it'd be better to just include the smut lmao. Although, I think I won't be posting the other chaps here. If you're interested how it goes, you can read it on ao3!! (I'll only be posting oneshots here)
thanks for reading! hope you liked it <3
also, don't forget to support ur writers! likes and reblogs are much appreciated :)
What happens when you're on a 4-day work trip, out of town?
Well... Let's just say your husband, Nanami Kento misses you so much that he steals your panty from the laundry basket and fucks himself while inhaling your scent.
contents. heavy on the scent kink, nanami masturbating, pathetic husband, pervert nanami, oral sex(f receiving), praise kink, light bondage, spitting, mating press, aftercare <3
wc. 4.6k
this is heavily influenced by the fragrantica trend on tiktok ;)
_________________________________
You and Nanami Kento have been married for 3 years now, 2 years dating prior.
It was a rainy morning and it's your routine to have breakfast at your favorite cafe. Luckily for you, it's near your workplace. There was no available table at the time, the others were occupied by pairs or groups of people.
Except one.
You mustered all your courage to ask the man, and if I may add... The man was handsome. Like jaw-dropping, flabbergasting, fucking handsome. His brows were crunched and he's typing on his laptop like his life depends on it.
You walked to the table nervously, "Umm hi, I'm sorry to interrupt you sir. May I sit here?"
He looked up through his glasses, his brows softening just a little. "There are no more available seats and I really want to enjoy the ambiance here in the cafe, hence it is my favorite and I don't really wanna go to my office because it's still earl–"
"Yes. You may sit, ma'am" He interrupted you before you could even finish your sentence.
"Thank you, Mr. ? "
"Kento Nanami"
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Nanami" Then you introduced yourself as well.
And the rest is history..
________________________________________
The first time you made love with each other was in his apartment.
He invited you over for dinner and presented that he'll cook. Which you gladly accepted.
Nanami fixed the two of you some shrimp pasta, steak, mushroom soup, and créme brulee for dessert.
Your stomach was full from all the yummy food he prepared. But tonight… your stomach's not the only one getting full.
As the night went on, the both of you grew hot from the wine he took out of his cellar. A very good, aged, fine wine.
Time-to-time, you catch him looking at your lips when you talk. Tipsy, you say to him, “If you want to kiss me, you can ask y'know” your eyes squinting at him a little.
“May I kiss you then, sweetheart?” He finally asked, taking off his glasses.
You placed your glass of wine on the coffee table and crawled towards him. Pressing your hands on his chest squeezing the plush of his muscles underneath his thin shirt. Looking at him straight in his eyes, dying to kiss him just as much.
His hands found your waist and guided you to sit on his lap. His right hand coming up to cup your face, you leaned in against his touch, earning a ‘Hmm” from him. Then, Nanami's thumb moved to your lips, rubbing his calloused pad against its softness and plumpness.
“You're so gorgeous. I'm so lucky to have you, darling.” He pecked your lips. Then stared at you once more. “All to myself” He grunted, before crashing his equally soft ones to yours.
The first 10 seconds of the kiss was slow and passionate. Quickly escalating, he tilts his head gaining more access to your mouth. “Hmmph!” You moaned as he slipped his tongue inside. Your tongue met his, exchanging spit and some drool slipping out of your mouths.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands playing with his soft, blond hair. Nanami's hands slipped inside your shirt, rubbing your back and waist.
Both of you broke from the kiss, breaths uneven. A strand of saliva connecting your reddened lips.
He picked you up like you weigh nothing, flexing his strong muscles and carried you to his bedroom. Although.. After he laid you on the bed, "Hold on, sweetheart" he said, panting from the heated kiss earlier.
You watched him go to his closet, which is connected to his room. His movements were frantic. He rummaged through his things, as you can hear, because some of his stuff is dropping by how uncareful he's moving, which is unlikely, knowing him.
"Ah hah" he exclaimed. He went out and revealed himself with a scented candle and match on his hand.
Your brows furrowed, confused as to why he's holding those. "Ken, what are those for?" You asked, sitting up on the bed.
After the candle is lit, he removes his button-up shirt and hovers over you, caging you in between his big arms, making your back press on the bed again.
"What else for my love? To set up the mood of course." He proclaimed, crashing his lips into yours once again..
______________________________________
"Honey, you're gonna be late for your flight. Your things are complete. I checked everything last night." Your husband said hugging you from behind, his chin on your head while you're stressing if you've brought everything that you'll need.
You've never been away from your home in 3 years since marrying. And it's gonna be 4 days, that's why you're kinda frustrated and paranoid you almost packed the whole house in your baggage. Including your husband.
You turned to face him, hugging him tightly. "I am so gonna miss you, love. Like really really really miss you." You mumbled on his chest.
"Oh darling, imagine how I'll feel. I will miss you more than you can comprehend." His hands cupped your face, making you look up at him. He leaned down to your face and kissed you.
The kiss was slow. Like he's so afraid it's gonna end.
You break the kiss and say, "Welp, I think it's time to go." He gave you kisses on your cheeks "Mhmm just a little more" he says in between his smooches, making you giggle.
He carried all your baggage in his car and drove you to the airport.
You hugged each other tightly one last time before you checked in.
________________________________________
Day 1
Nanami drove back home with a lump on his chest. He played your playlist in the car. He even shed a tear or two when your favorite song came up. I think he's mixing up you dying and you going on a work trip, by how dramatic he is.
But who's he to blame? You are absolutely amazing. Beyond amazing even. You're everything he has dreamed of, and he wouldn't trade anything in the world for you.
He finally arrived home and looked at his watch. 7:00 am. It is a Tuesday, so he still has to go to work at 8 am.
The thought of him going home tonight, without you, greeting him with your oh so loving tone he loves dearly, is enough to make him crazy.
Before getting ready, he decided to do some laundry first. Going through your basket, he smelled your shirt you wore last night. He took a long sigh. "I'm gonna miss you so much" He said, whispering to himself.
One by one, he put your clothes in the wash, not until... your favorite panty was in his hand. He bit the inside of his cheek. Contemplating whether or not he should put it or not.
After 3 minutes of deep thinking... he set aside your underwear and continued to load the washing machine.
Day 2
Nanami woke up and immediately reached for you. When he felt nothing, his eyes snapped open and got nervous. Then he remembered you were away. He sighed to himself.
He decided to call you.
"Good morning, babyyy" You blabbered through the phone, your voice husky, signifying that you had just woken up as well.
His cock twitched at your voice, making him groan. Which you heard. "What's wrong, Ken? Did something happen?" You asked, voice now concerned.
"Oh n-nothing, my love. Good morning, how was your sleep? " His hand reached for his boxers. Slightly palming his growing bulge.
"Are you sure you're okay?" You asked one more time before answering his question. "Yes, my love. I'm sorry if I made you worry.”
You sighed. "It's alrighttttt. I didn't sleep well last night" You said, pouting your lips.
"Why is that, sweetheart?" He questioned, his tone a little bit teasing.
"Oh you know why! It took me three freaking hours before I actually drifted to slumber land. I wanted you by my side..." Your words drove him mad. His hands, now in his boxers as he gives it a few slow strokes. He bit his lips from pleasure.
"What about you? I bet you slept well without me blasting my phone volume by your side huh?" You said while giggling.
"I think I only slept for two hours" Eyes closed, he tried his best to make his voice normal, not making you suspicious of what he's doing now. At your voice alone.
"Tell me more, darling." He uttered, dropping the phone beside him, and putting it on speaker. He reached for your pillow.
Nanami brought it to his face, the smell of your shampoo and natural scent completely flooding his mind, making him dizzy and even more horny.
You continued to blabber about how everything went yesterday. While he continued to fuck himself with his hand. His responses being short, just a few "Yeah" or "Mhm"
Then, you had to excuse yourself and end the call.
His moans can be heard now. His strokes are becoming faster. He tightens his grip on his cock, coercing him to moan your name. "Ahh yes darling— T-take my cock" His hips thrusting upwards, matching the speed of his hands.
The wet sounds of his dick filling the room, along with his moans and groans. "Mnghh fuuck" He moaned, his head tilting back. His pace became slopier, then came shooting his load on his stomach and hand.
“This is gonna be the longest 4 days of my life” he muttered, staring at the ceiling.
Day 3
The day went on incredibly slow. On Nanami's head at least. The both of you called each other every free time the two of you had.
He got food on the way home as he didn't feel like cooking at all. Now, he's kicking off his shoes and carefully placing them on the shoe rack by the front door.
After working out for an hour in your home gym, he then freshened up.
Now, he's all ready for bed.
As he was passing by the laundry room, he saw a piece of clothing hanging on one of the hooks.
He went inside to put it in a basket or something. His eyes widened upon realizing that it's your underwear.
"Shit" He bit his lip, picking it up from the hook. Unashamed, his hand put it on his face. Inhaling your scent like an animal in heat.
Well he is…
He went to your shared bedroom, took out the vanilla jasmine scented candle from the shelf and lit it, then placed it on his bed side table.
He began to unravel his throbbing— thick, long cock from his underwear. He groaned. His curved dick slapping his toned abs. He wrapped his hand on his tip, smearing precum on his thumb. “Fuck”
The natural aphrodisiac in the jasmine makes him even more riled up. He brought your panties up on his lower face. Inhaling and tasting you all at once.
He pumped his long shaft as he's imagining you. The way your pussy easily gets wet with just his faint touches. The way you clench around him. Your warmth driving him to the edge.
All his thoughts lead to you.
"Shiiit. Oh fuck" He pumps his dick faster. He widens his thick thighs as if you're in between them.
"Yes, darling. Suck me just like that. So fucking— hahh good" Nanami closed his eyes. Head thrown back, his adam's apple bobbing from the constant moaning of your name. He's working his hand so fast that his breathing is ragged.
He put your undies away from his face, still stroking his cock. After five seconds, he inhaled you again.
"Ahhh fuckk– I'm so close, keep going" He muttered through the fabric. The room, now humid because of the scented candle, and him.
fwap fwap fwap "Mnghh y-yeahh" Nanami moaned as he released his warm cum all over himself as he reached his climax.
Still providing himself a few, slow strokes as post orgasm hits him.
"Hah– one more fucking day" He said, before finally getting up and cleaning after his mess.
Day 4
“Love, which one do you like?” you asked, holding a black and blue shirt, through the video call. You woke up early to go shopping for some things to bring home. “I like whichever you think is nice, honey”
“Oh my god. Kennnn just choose” You replied, completely aggravated. He only chuckled.
“Okay, okay. I like the blue one”
“Hah! I knew it. Now a matching tie. This one or that one?”
“That one.” he said pointing at the other tie. “Good taste, love.” you said, with a matching wink. His heart skipped a beat and smiled at your playful attitude.
“I'm gonna go shopping for some more souvenirs. I'll talk to you later, baby”
“Okay, sweetheart. Don't buy heavy things, you'll hurt yourself.”
“Yeah yeah, bye now. I love youuu” you bid goodbye, kissing through the camera.
“I love you more. Be very careful, okay?” you simply nodded at his words, and ended the call.
The day went on as per usual for Nanami. Getting ready for work, leaving the house 10 minutes early so he's not late, finishing his paperworks, blah blah blah.
And there goes lunch time.
As he finishes eating, he tries calling your phone but you're not answering. “Must be busy” he said to himself, looking at your profile on his contacts.
But goddamn. The man misses you so fucking much.
Little did you know..
Before leaving the house, he grabbed one of your favorite shirts, then sprayed your favorite perfume on it. Luckily, when he was finally satisfied by how much he sprayed, it ran out. Which you thank him for because he switched the new bottle of perfume and the old one in your baggage.
He took your scented shirt out of his briefcase. Feeling the softness of the fabric on his hands, he brought it closer. His eyes closed as he's smelling it.
He didn't plan to bring your shirt to jerk himself off in his office, no.
Or did he…
Nanami grunted as he could feel his cock grow in his tight pants. He tried to repress it, he really did.
Until he couldn't. “Shit”
He unbuckled his belt and zipped his pants open. He reached for his boxer's waistband and freed himself of misery.
His fat cock already glistening with beads of precum at his red-pink mushroom tip. He made sure that the windows and doors were locked before attending to his business.
Your shirt is still in Nanami's hands, smelling it as he pumps his desperate dick, releasing a quiet groan in response. His moves became faster, squelching sounds echoing in his office.
He wrapped your shirt around his dick. Feeling the friction, his hips thrusted upward. “Mnghh— yesss” he moaned, his pace becoming more vigorously fast.
He bit his hand as he's reaching for his high. Not a minute later, he choked on his saliva as he orgasmed. He whispered your name. All in desperation. His cum, all over your clothes. “It's ruined, I'm gonna buy another one. Apologies, my love.” he mumbled to himself, as he displayed a satisfied grin on his face.
D-day
At last, it's Saturday. You told him to pick you up at the airport around 5:30 pm.
So here he is at the airport. At 4 fucking pm. You scolded him for being too early and that he'll get bored. But he simply replies, “I know, sweetheart. But I don't want to miss even a minute upon your arrival.” you couldn't help but melt at his remarks, and say “Awww baby. I love you so much I'm gonna give you a bunch of hugs and kisses”
“Hugs and kisses only?” he asked, raising a brow.
“Hmm I don't know, depends” you responded, playing along.
Time check: 5pm. Nanami got out of his car, finding a cafe or bakery in the airport. He bought hot coffee for himself, and your favorite drink as well, along with some pastries and breads to eat on the road and bring home.
As you walked out, his back was facing you leaning against one of the airport rails. His phone is on the side of his face, trying to call you. Luck on your side, it died just after the plane landed. You sneaked behind him and put on a beanie, trying to look like a stranger. You bumped into him, then turned to your shoulder for a second and said, “Sorry”. It was a split second but you did catch a glimpse of his brows crunching together. You walked fast. But he's faster. He called your name, shouting just a tiny pitch higher than his normal voice. You couldn't hold it in anymore and burst laughing while opening your arms as you met his long strides.
“I missed you so much, my love” Nanami says as he's now embracing your smaller figure against his warm and big body. Hugging your waist so tightly, but not tight enough to make it hurt. Your arms automatically wrap around his neck, making him crunch lower towards you. You kissed him. He accepted your gesture and exchanged it passionately. Your lips fully in sync, not caring about PDA because you just longed for each other that much.
Pulling away from the kiss, you say, “I missed you too, Ken. I missed you so much”, as you stare at his hypnotizing, beautiful, hazel eyes.
His face lightened with his smile. “Are you ready to go home, sweetheart?” he asked sweetly. “Yuppppp let's gooo”
He took your baggage from you and carried it toward his car, your arm intertwined with his muscly one. He opened the car door for you and kissed you before closing it.
On the way home, an unending smile is plastered on his face. Holding your hand while the other on the wheel, he kisses the back of your hand at least every minute, making your chest flutter at his affection.
As you opened the front door. Nothing could've prepared your sanity on the sight in front of you. There's a "Welcome Home!” banner and a bunch of flowers on the foyer, the house smelling like roses and food he cooked for you. You turned to look at him, eyes teary. “ You didn't have to do this, honey. Coming home to you is more than enough, y'know” He closes the distance between the two of you, your husband’s thumb glides on your face to wipe a tear that escaped.
“Oh honey, this house felt so empty without you. It's just as happy to have you back. Of course we had to welcome you back properly.” you beamed at his sweet words.
________________________________________
“Oh my goshh! It suits you perfectly!” you exclaimed, putting on the tie you bought for him as he sat on a stool bar, your body in between his legs and Nanami's hands resting on your hips. His eyes boring into yours as you blabber on the other things you bought for him.
And then…
He smashed his lips into yours, making you jolt in surprise. Still, you kissed back. He pulled you closer, his legs caging your frame. “You talk too much sometimes, darling. I wanted to kiss you so bad” he said, letting go of the kiss. His eyes filled with desperation and want.
He stood up from the stool. With swift moves, his arms are under your legs and the other on your back, carrying you bridal style. He makes a beeline to your bedroom. As you entered, your eyes widened.
Oh.
The room was filled with rose petals, slightly dim, the moonlight providing the only source of light. He carefully laid you on the soft mattress. You grabbed the tie you were making him try on earlier, and kissed him. He grunted in your lips, opening his mouth so you can gain access to his tongue. You rolled yours against him, making your husband lose his mind completely.
He breaks the kiss. “Which candle would you like for tonight, my love?” His voice husky and needy. “Vanilla coconut” you responded, biting your lower lip. He smirked as he got up and lit the candle.
Nanami gets on top of you and starts to kiss your neck. “Mgnhh! ” Your head tilts from pleasure, giving him more access to nibble and suck on your exposed skin. He then removed your shirt and bra. Like a magnet, his face came right down on your tits. He sucked them back and forth, giving both equal attention. “Ohh f-fuck!” you yelped as his thumb and index finger pinched on one of your nipples, the other one being licked and sucked by his mouth.
His lips trails kisses down your sternum, and reaches your stomach. He looked up at you waiting for your consent, his fingers on your waistband. After giving your husband a nod, he pulled down your pants leaving you only in your panty. He licked his lips and dove right in. “Mnghhh!! yes ugh— right there, ken!” you cry out. His mouth lapping at your clothed pussy. The fabric, completely soaked from your juices and his spit.
“Hah— I missed you, I missed this so fucking much” he says whilst sucking on your pussy. Unsatisfied with the barrier of your panty, he yanked it down your legs.
“Look at you, all pretty for me. Wanting to be fucked, hmm?” he teased. Your head nodded quickly and he chuckled at your needy gesture.
Nanami kissed your calf, moving up to your thighs, and inner thighs. Finally, his face is in front of your throbbing pussy. He pressed his face against it and took a loooong inhale, your smell engulfing his senses. Driving him mad. “Fuuuuck. You have no idea how much I've been wanting this, darling. Your pussy in my mouth.” He flattened his tongue on your cunt, “Aughhh K-ken, keep going” you moaned as pleasure took over you.
“You taste soooo sweet, my love” he kissed your clit. “Smells so fucking good too” he added as he starts to really eat you out.
Nanami's tongue swiping up-and-down your pulsating cunt. Your head turned to the side, eyes closed, hands gripping the sheets. “Look at me as I eat you, sweetheart. See how good I am licking your sweet juices”
Your eyes snapped open and looked down. His eyes already devouring you, as he feasts his mouth with your pussy. slurp slurp “A-ahh!! R-right there, Ken!” you moaned loudly as he sucked on your sensitive nub.
He inserts two of his long and thick fingers, making you whimper and your hips jolt upward. He curled his digits inside as he continued to work on your clit. “Mgnhhh— I'm close. Ahh!” You're a moaning mess.
He pumps his fingers faster and deeper, chasing your climax. “Oh f-fuckk!” you yelped as you orgasmed, eyes rolling back. His tongue licks up every single drop of your juices. He hums in satisfaction.
He hovers over you and says “Open your mouth” which you obeyed. You opened your mouth, tongue sticking out. He spits on it making you taste yourself, then he proceeds to catch your lips, kissing you hard and greedy. You tugged at his shirt. Nanami took off his tie.
Then… he held both of your wrists above your head tying them up. You looked at him doe-eyed. He grins at your reaction. “Be a good girl now, hmm? Tell me you want me, sweetheart. Tell me how much your pussy wants to be filled up by my cum”
“P-please kennn. Need your cock in me soooo bad—*hic* fill me up. Please” You begged. He can't help but to admire you right now. Your tied wrists, perked tits, your legs wide open, and your cunt glistening in wetness.
“You look so beautiful like this, my love. So perfect for me.” he praises as he removes his shirt and pants, leaving him naked.
The sight of his thick, long, and veiny cock making your mouth and pussy water. “You got bigger, love” you say, eyes slightly widened.
“Well, you weren't here to take care of me for four days,” he replied. He rubs his tip at your entrance making the both of you moan. “Relax, darling. You're squeezing me too hard.” he said as he inserts himself
“Fuck! You're t-too big— ahh!!” he slid all the way inside. “Mnghh shhh. I know, darling” he said, kissing your forehead.
Nanami's hands grabbed the back of your thighs, folding you in half, putting you in a mean mating press. His weight crashing you down. Then he begins pounding into you making you arch your back. He groaned at how your pussy is deliciously wrapping around him. His face scrunches as he thrusts in you. “Mnghhhh feels soooo good” You lolled as he fucks you with all his might.
“F-feel how deep I am, darling? You're taking me so good”
“I want to– ahh! touch you, love. Pleaseee” You plead. He smiles at you and quickly removes the tie on your wrists. Your now freed hands reached his back, digging your nails through his skin, making him groan from the sensation.
“M-moreeee!! Fuck me faster—Ahh!!” Taking your words, he did fucked you faster. And deeper. Your pussy walls clenching every inch he has to offer, his reddened tip kissing your cervix in every pound he gives you. His pace becomes inhuman as the best creaks from every thrust he makes. Your moans in harmony.
“Yeah? Mnghh— you like that, my love? You like it when I fuck you like this?”
“Y-yes!! Oh my god, I'm gonna cum!” you say as your mouth shapes into a silent O, your brown knitted together, as you orgasmed. “A-ahh, I'm close too” he said, his pace becoming sloppy.
“Fill me up, Ken. Want your cum in m-me” your voice trembling and legs shaking, as you begin to feel overstimulated. His cock forming a ring at the bottom from your juices.
A few more thwap thwap thwap, and “O-ohh fuuuck!!” Nanami tilted his head back and his cum painted your walls white.
The feeling of his warm and thick cum making you orgasm again. You bit your lower lip from how good it feels. His moves came to a halt, releasing your legs, his cock still inside of you.
The candle he lit earlier, covering the room in its sweet and calming scent, along with the smell of sweat, musk, your mixed perfumes, and the linens underneath you. All this makes Nanami's and your head hazy.
He presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. Then he pecked your cheeks, your forehead, and finally your lips. “I love you so much, sweetheart. Don't you ever agree to another work trip.” You laugh coarsely, your throat sore from all the moaning.
He took his cock out with a sounding pop! your pussy lips smacking together again from the fullness earlier. Your husband went to the bathroom and came back with a damp and dry towel in both of his hands. He reached down to you and cleaned up all the dried and wet fluids on your skin. He goes back to put them in a laundry basket.
“Are you hungry, sweetheart? I can fix you some pasta I cooked earlie–” His words were taken aback as he sees you, eyes closed and in deep sleep. He smiled at your vulnerable state and covered you in a blanket as he got to bed as well. Your husband kisses your forehead one last and then he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
_______________________________________
Inspired by the fragrantica trend on tiktok. It got me feeling things, okayy???😫 I had so much fun writing this!
You were supposed to go with your family to attend a family reunion held at your grandparents' estate. Although, since finals is coming up, you decided to stay at home and grab the chance to have the house all to yourself to "study in peace".
Until... you got so horny and asked your boyfriend, Ryomen Sukuna to come over.
"Urghh finally some peace and quiet." You say aloud setting up your notes from class, bunch of books and some snacks you prepared. And so, the study grind began..
Today's saturday and it's currently 5:30 in the afternoon. You've been studying since 1pm, making your brain and back hurt from sitting four hours straight. So, you decided to fix yourself a nice, warm, bubble bath after taking an everything shower.
Music playing in the background, your body relaxed from the warm, bubbly bath.. Then suddenly, the thought of your boyfriend slid your mind. You just saw him yesterday but you miss him so much already. Way too much, honestly.
The thought of him fucking you relentlessly until you're sobbing and crying, but still wanting more.
The way he praises you for taking his huge cock. You couldn't help it but part your thighs and rub your clit. "Mhmm" a silent whimper escaped your lips from the sensation.
You started to insert your two digits and mimick the way he fucks you using his long and thick ones. "Fuuckk ahh" You wanted to cum. But your fingers weren't enough, they never were after being with Ryomen. So you called him.
The phone only rang once before his voice was heard through the speaker.
"Hi baby, I just got off the gym. How's study? " He asked in an oh so loving tone.
"I'm home alone. Come over"
"Is everything all right, love? You sound.. Umm out of breath?" You can't help but moan at his voice, your thumb rubbing circles at your sensitive nub. No, you couldn't take it anymore. "Oh. That's how it is. I'll be there in five"
"Mhmm I'm in the tub" He chuckled through the phone at how needy you sound. "Drive safe, love I don't want you getting in an accident and your dick being split in half" He bursted laughing from your words.
"I will baby, you can stop touching yourself now. We both know you're not gonna cum if I'm not the one doing it." You rolled your eyes and ended the call.
_________________________________________
Five minutes passed and you can hear keys rattling at the front door followed by heavy footsteps, getting closer and closer.
The bathroom door swung open, revealing a sweaty, panting, sukuna making your pussy throb. He took off his compression shirt leaving him only in his grey sweatpants with an obviously massive tent growing beneath the fabric.
"Fuck baby, I love it when you get desperate for me"
You motioned your index finger, signalling him to come closer. With just three long strides, he's already standing in front of you.
You adjusted your position in the tub and sat on your knees, making you underneath his figure. His hands found your head and started rubbing your scalp.
"My baby's brain is so tired she needs to be dumb fucked huh. " You nodded, eyes glistening with desperation. Your hands slowly reached for his sculpted abs before going for his waistband. All while staring at him, doe-eyed. He can't help but to let out a smug grin by how fuckable you look.
You pulled down his sweatpants, leaving his boxers on. You inhaled through his boxers, his laundry detergent and musky scent from working out making you even more horny.
"You dirty woman. You like my smell?" He groaned, tightening his grasp on your hair, making you whimper in response. "Yes, smells so good Ryo" You jerked him through the thin fabric, earning a guttural tone from him.
"Fuuuuckk, don't tease me now. Suck me like the good little slut you are" You obeyed, finally pulling his boxers down. His huge fat cock slapped your face smearing some precum, with a few kitten licks, you deep throated him. His head tilted back from the sudden pleasure.
You sucked his dick back and forth until drool escaped the corners of your mouth. Your right hand helping your mouth with what it can't reach, and your left hand on his thigh for support.
"Ahh I'm close, yes keep going. Just liiiike that" His moans became more frantic and now his two hands are grabbing your head. He thrusted into your throat making you gag. "Your mouth is taking me so so good, baby."
A few more, then loads of his cum came shooting on your tongue. You swallowed what all he has to offer and licked some that was dripping on his length.
"Open your mouth" You opened your mouth, confirming that you swallowed. "Good fucking girl" He said with a smirk before going in the tub.
He sat and pressed his back on the cold surface. You crawled to him and straddled his waist. His big muscular arms found your waist making you closer to him, your glistening boobs pressed against his chest.
He leaned in and kissed you. Hungrily. His tongue exploring your mouth like there's no tomorrow. You fought back and now both of your tongues are eagerly dancing with each other. He gave in and you sucked his tongue making him hum in response.
The heat between your legs is yearning to be tended. You rubbed against his cock. The two of you moaned. Your lips parting, string of saliva connecting it. "I need you, Ryo. Pleaseeee fuck me" You sobbed.
"Tell me how bad you want my cock in that pretty little pussy of yours" You whimpered at his teasing, but still replied "Need you soooo bad, baby. I've been thinking of you since I was studying— hahh imagining how you should be fucking me instead of reading those boring lessons. " You said panting, grinding faster on his dick.
"Then my baby deserves to be filled up since she asked so nicely hmm" He lifted you up and positioned his tip at your entrance.
After being aligned, you started to take him in. With just the tip, you're already a moaning mess. "Shiiit baby, relax. You're squeezing me too much, fuckk ahh" You grabbed on his shoulders, your nails digging on his skin.
"Ohhh I swear you get bigger everytime we do it. F-fuckk!" He hummed while putting your wet hair out of your face.
His impatience was taking over. He planted his feet on the tub, and thrusted deep into your pussy until you felt his balls on your ass. You gasped and before saying anything, he crashed his lips into yours.
Your hips started to move and began bouncing on his dick. You're both moaning into each other's mouths. You quicken your pace making him pull out from the kiss, throwing his head back from how deliciously you're wrapping your clenched walls around him.
"Admit that you only stayed home so I can fuck you" He hissed, grabbing the plush of your hips guiding your movements. "Mhmm" You hummed, eyes closed and brows knotted.
Unsatisfied with your answer, he grabbed your throat and choked you just enough to make you gasp for air a little. "Nahh, use your words now baby. Tell me how you get so slutty for me." You opened your eyes, his already looking at you like he's gonna devour you any second now.
"Ahh y-yeahh, I only stayed home so you can fuck me. You just make me so horny, Ryo. I can't stop thinking about your cock." Yep. Your response made him even more hard and bigger, if that's even possible.
The water is splashing everywhere from the movements you're making in the tub. "Look at you, making such a mess" He released his hand on your throat, now grabbing your boobs which are begging for attention with the way they bounce while you do so on his dick.
He pinched both of your nipples, you pulled his hair. "I'll never get tired of this view, you look so beautiful being ruined like this, baby"
"It's your fault-ahhh!" He thrusted upwards. "I'm gonna cummm" You said, mouth open. Drool slipping. "Yeahh cum for me baby. Let me make you feel good"
His thrusts became faster and deeper, your pussy hugging every inch, every vein on his fat cock. You're basically a moaning mess now. Mumbling inaudible words by how good you're feeling.
He sucked your nipple and that was your last straw. That knot in your stomach untied and you came. Your legs shaking, eyes at the back of your head. A few more thrusts and he became undone as well.
His strokes became sloppy and his lips parted from your boob, groaning his orgasm away. "Fuuuckk yeah, just like that. So fucking good" His hands, now caressing your back. You rested your head on his shoulder.
You're both out of breath.
You leaned in for a kiss and he gave in. "I'm gonna be honest with you, I've been dreaming of bending you over on your kitchen isle but your lil sisters are always around." He confessed, breaking the kiss. "Buttt, now that they're gone, wanna do it? Later, if you're not too tired. Hmm?
You chuckled at his words and nodded, pressing your forehead on his and you both smiled.
__________________________________________
This is my first fic ever, pls be nice. I've been daydreaming about this and I wanted to get it out of my head lmao.
You’ve worn your boyfriend Sukuna to the bone, so your other boyfriend Toji takes over.
warnings. fem!reader/tojikuna, threesome, multiple orgasms, piv, kissing, creampie, overstim, ovulation, switch!toji if you squint, dom!sukuna. nsfw 18+ mdni.
──── ୨୧ ────
The first thing Toji noticed when he stepped through the front door was the heat. A subtle humidity lacing the air like the sweet lingering remnants of perfume. There was your lotion, sweet and familiar, and the smell of fresh sweat, layered with something primal and musky - the smell of sex.
The second thing he noticed was Sukuna, splayed over the couch like he’d just run a marathon. Tank top soaked through and sweatpants riddled with little damp patches, dotted across the fabric like stray petals. Toji’s gaze dipped without bothering to hide the way he was blatantly staring at Sukuna’s chest, at the heaving pecs peeking out from his neckline, eyes tracking the little bead of sweat beginning to trail a hot path down the center.
“What’s your problem?” Came Toji’s eventual greeting as he paused by the door, tearing his eyes away just to sling his gym bag over the hook there before continuing into the room, water bottle clasped in his hand.
Sukuna glared in reply, and if Toji were anyone else he might have actually felt intimidated by the sight. But with the way the other man was panting, pink tufts of hair stuck every which way and slicked with sweat, he didn’t paint a particularly scary image. In fact the only sensation the sight triggered within Toji was a mild amusement, alongside a tiny spark of heat low and betraying in his belly.
“I’ve already had her four times,” Sukuna grunted, “the brats insatiable.”
Toji snorted mid sip of water, eyes leaving the couch to instead peer through the half opened doorway to the bedroom, where he managed to catch only a glimpse of your bare leg through the crack. From the looks of it you were naked - splayed over the sheets, hair probably still a little damp from the shower, skin lacquered with lotion, half washed away with sweat by now.
“What, she ovulating or something?” Toji wondered aloud, lowering the bottle to once again catch Sukuna’s gaze over the metal rim.
The other man crossed his arms unceremoniously across his chest, and Toji watched the tendons jump in the winding muscle of his forearms as he shrugged.
“That or she’s in heat, damn near milked me dry.” He grumbled, brows knitted, working a mean line between them. If you were here you’d reprimand him for such an expression, crawl over the couch and run your thumb between his salmon brows until the lines wore smooth, or until Sukuna grew bored and wrapped a hand around your wrist to flip you onto the cushions instead.
Toji laughed then, the sound rough and graveled like tattered velvet.
“Seriously?” He scoffed, lips spread into a sly grin as he licked stray droplets from them, “had to tap out did ya’ Ryomen?”
Sukuna’s scowl only deepened, soured now with genuine irritation.
“Just be grateful I wore her out for you,” he spat, “and watch your tone, or it’ll be you spread eagle and whining for more cock next, Fushiguro.”
Toji chuckled again as he screwed the lid of his bottle on tight, the motion accented with a metallic ‘squeak!’ before he tossed it toward Sukuna, hard enough that he heard the fleshy impact when the other man’s hand shot out to catch it.
“Yeah yeah,” he mused, moving past the couch to instead push through the bedroom door, which creaked beneath the effort, “drink some fuckin’ water and get outta my way.”
If he were being honest, when he’d left for the gym that morning he’d been hoping for this exact scenario. Toji knew you - or at least your cycle - well enough to know that you’d wake up needy and leaking, and he knew Sukuna well enough to know he wouldn’t be able to resist the sight of you humping his thigh like a dog in heat for very long. So he’d left without a word just as the sun kissed the horizon, and he’d been half hard in his sweats since his second rep just thinking about it.
If the living room was warm, the air within the bedroom was stifling. But it wasn’t the heat or the sticky sweet scent that knocked the air from Toji’s lungs on entry, no. It was the sight of you - limbs splayed over the mattress, hair messed and wild where your head was tucked between the pillows. Your jaw lifted back far enough to expose the long column of your throat, giving Toji a stellar view of the dark sucking marks peppered there, indents of teeth that he was sure would melt into bruises by the evening.
Toji took in the sight indulgently - paused in the doorway, a lone hand already trailing its way down the curve of his stomach, teasing until his fingers curled over the bulge forming there. He squeezed once and shivered, reveling in the immediate relief that sizzled over his body like a splash of ice water.
He could feel the weight of Sukuna’s gaze piercing into the back of his skull like the promise of a snipers sight. He didn’t indulge the urge to peer over his shoulder and meet that heated gaze, instead he let his hand drop to his side and pressed a knee into the mattress.
You didn’t move, didn’t speak or even open your eyes when he crawled over the sheets, crowding your space like a panther sliding atop its snagged prey.
His hand met the curve of your waist, skin soft and warm beneath his palm, layer of sweat sticking you lightly to him. He trailed one hand downward over the curve of your belly, the other grazed feather-soft over the slopes of your breasts, pausing to pinch gently at either nipple, perked and willing in his hands.
“You’re soaked sweetheart,” he mused when his fingers finally dipped between your thighs, which gave way to him easily, spreading to make room for his forearm to slot between. He moved slowly, palming soft and teasing over your mound and listening to you mumble mindlessly below him.
You whined something unintelligible in reply, voice nothing but a high pitched whimper, crackled like shattered glass.
With a chuckle, he leaned down and craned his head until his ear rested level with your mouth.
“What’s that sweetheart?” He questioned, head tilted to listen.
You swallowed, hard and dry, and licked your lips before you spoke again. Another croaked string of words hit his ear, a touch clearer this time. He realized then that you weren’t mumbling gibberish at all, you were begging.
“More, more, need more, please ‘kuna, please jus’ one more…”
Toji chuckled and lifted his head back to study you again - he found your eyes still closed, brows now knitted into an expression that was decidedly desperate.
“Old Ryo’ couldn’t keep up, huh?” He mused, hands lifted from your body to instead press into the mattress either side of your head, leveraging the weight of him as he slotted himself properly between your thighs.
You offered a gentle huff in reply, eyelids feeling much too heavy to bother opening. Your limbs felt numb, tingling with residual little sizzles of pleasure.
“Don’t worry doll, ‘m here now.”
Toji didn’t waste time working you open or teasing you with the brush of his lips or gentle caresses, no. He simply slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it sideways. His thumb hooked over his waistband, tugged down to let his length spring free and slap hard and raw against you.
The sensation was enough to have his lips parting around a shuddered breath. You felt like heaven - like slick molten silk kissing each bumped ridge as he rutted through your swollen folds. You jolted when he shifted, hard inches rubbing over your clit, still singing with over stimulation.
He grinned and lowered a thumb to pet at your entrance, leaking slick and dribbles of what he was sure was Sukuna’s spend. He traced your rim beneath the head of his cock slowly, smearing the milky little pearls gathered there and wondering just how many loads Sukuna had managed to stuff inside you before he’d finally tapped out. The thought made his breath catch, and sent another sizzle of heat straight to his throbbing cock.
“C’mon, look at me now,” Toji cooed, watching the way any semblance of coherency on your face melted away when he finally pressed down, sinking inside with a single dizzying press of his hips - testament to just how soaked and used you really were.
It was enough to make your eyes roll behind your lids, fluttering with the delicious sting of being stretched open again. Toji treated you with shallow little thrusts. The hair at his base tickling your clit, thick veins pulsing against your rubbed raw walls where Sukuna had pounded you until you cried, until you bruised. And yet despite the pain, the ache - that needling little bud of desire still burned just as hotly as when you’d first awoken that day, stoking the fire in your belly and dribbling lava hot between your aching thighs.
“Oh, oh…” you moaned dumbly, lashes twitching as you finally lifted them and tried to blink away the layer of hazy film that had settled there. Your mind felt fuzzy, vacant. Drunk on the sensation of being stuffed utterly full once again.
“There she is,” Toji soothed.
“‘Ji, it’s you…” came your delayed greeting, nothing more than a breathy whine, “need’t cum, need to cum again, please…”
“Again?” Toji echoed in faux surprise, hips lowing to a torturous roll, “that’s a little greedy of you, don’t you think?”
“Incredibly greedy,” a distant voice interrupted, flat and deep and utterly serious.
Toji tilted his head back just enough to catch sight of Sukuna’s broad form filling the doorway, looking more like the hired security than someone who actually lived there. Toji peered through strands of ink black hair at the big hand that was beginning to dip beneath the waistband of Sukuna’s sweats, palming lazily at the considerable bulge there. Sukuna’s gaze was equally heavy and heated, lowered past the curve of Toji’s spine to track the way your hole was stretching around his thickness.
Toji swallowed, took a final glance at the sight of Sukuna beginning to work his length free from his boxers. His eyes stuck on the exposed slip of tan skin where Sukuna had tugged his shirt upward, the spatter of hair dusted there, before he turned his attention back to you.
“Haven’t even asked how my day was yet, and here you are begging me to make this needy pussy cum,” Toji teased, “and after Ryo’ took such good care of you too.”
“Please,” you cried, shaking your head furiously against the damp pillows crumpled either side of you, “please don’t tease me.”
“Aw I’m sorry sweetheart,” Toji cooed, voice dripping thick with mock concern, “you just need it real bad, huh?”
The delicate shallow thrusts he had been nursing you with suddenly shifted, turned to long pulls smacked back inside hard enough that you felt the tip of him kiss somewhere deep and delicate. Each buck had your legs quivering, and a sharp little shock of pain and pleasure in equal measure sizzling over your skin.
You were lucid enough only to know that he was moving, slow methodical thrusts that felt achingly tender. Each twitch of his worked muscle was purposeful, each motion entirely controlled and aimed to break you apart.
“Shh, just feel it. You feel me, right baby? Nice ‘n deep.” The words were sin incarnate, purred right into your ear.
You were nodding before you could think, slurring a string of unintelligible words alongside breathy cries of his name, strung together like a prayer.
“Deep… deeper…”
The scent of him was intoxicating, dizzying. The sharp sting of fresh sweat and his own familiar woody musk was enough to have you lifting your trembling legs just to hook a heel over his hip and tug him closer.
“Finally knocked all the brains outta you, huh?” Toji teased, “That’s alright, don’t need to think. Just keep squeezin’ this pretty little pussy around me, yeah?”
One of your hands fled the sheets to instead grasp at one of Toji’s bare shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle there.
“Kiss me,” you panted, blinking up at him with wide wet eyes, blown black and glossy with need, “oh, hng-… please Toji…”
Toji didn’t bother with a reply, instead he simply dipped his head and captured your lips in a kiss so sudden you barely had the wherewithal to suck in a lungful of air before he was swiping any lingering thoughts away with the hot slide of his tongue.
You melted into the touch, letting the roll of his jaw guide your movements - moaning in surprise when his teeth nipped at your cracked lower lip, your grip on his shoulder tightening when his tongue met yours.
When you finally split apart you were sufficiently softened by the blend of his sweet kisses and the steady rock of his hips, brain humming quietly like the static of a tv set to a dead channel.
“Good?” Toji questioned, head tilting.
You just nodded, struggling to keep you gaze affixed on the inky strands of hair slipping over Toji’s forehead, that was until a sudden blur of colour crept into the edge of your vision.
“Oi, what are you?-…”
You watched, motion a little delayed, as Sukuna’s hand slid across the back of Toji’s neck. Toji’s eyes widened an inch, looking genuinely shocked for just a moment before Sukuna’s grip tightened, firm hand forcing his head upward until they finally met in a rough crashing of lips.
Peering up you simply watched, entranced, at the slide of pink tongue between sticky sweet flutters of your lashes. Eyes caught on the way Toji’s brows lifted and his hips stuttered just a little when Sukuna’s hand tightened into a fist at his nape, strands of silky black hair sticking wayward through his thick fingers.
Toji grunted into the kiss, rougher now - a tumble of teeth and tongue in stark contrast to the slow rhythm of the embrace you had shared. One of Toji’s hands curled over your hip, thumb mindlessly tracing the bone there. The other found Sukuna’s chest, grasping a handful of fabric before he was shoving the other man backwards.
You watched a glittering thread of spit link them for a moment before it split, and you must have clenched at the obscene sight because Toji made a choked sound above you, falling into the sensation a little like he were suddenly made of jelly.
“Fuck sweetheart,” he panted, lips glossed as he dug a fist into the mattress beside your head, “that’s it, just like that.”
His thrusts didn’t slow or soften, but they felt sloppier somehow, and when you blinked upward you realized why. Sukuna had stepped in behind Toji, plump chest pressed to his back, massive hand still curled around his nape, thumb rubbing soothing little shapes there. His head turned inward, lips pressed to the delicate little strip behind Toji’s ear, breathing so close you could see the speckle of goosebumps begin to prickle over Toji’s skin.
“C’mon Fushiguro,” Sukuna purred, quiet enough that you could barely hear the sweet syrupy words, “don’t get soft on me now.”
Dazed, you watched Sukuna raise a spare hand to his lips, thumb pressed against tongue beneath the glint of pearly canines before he reached past Toji’s hips and tucked it between your thighs. You jerked at the sudden contact, the searing heat of his slick thumb, calloused and rough and perfect against your abused clit.
“Bastard…” Toji gritted, breaths coming ragged now, panting between barely masked grunts of pleasure as his head dipped beneath the weight of the palm at his nape. His gaze was glassy, glued to where you were clamping around him, where your slick was painting the dark curls at his belly white.
Sukuna only grinned in reply, and you could hear the lazy glee lacing his tone with his next words, thumb still rolling over your twitching nub as you writhed beneath his touch.
“Go on now,” he rumbled, low and filthy over the shell of Toji’s ear, and you swore you felt Toji twitch in response. “make the pretty girl cum.”
You could feel it, the looming buzz of your orgasm, curling like the crest of a wave, hot and tight in your belly like the slow cinching of a knot.
“Close ‘ji…’m close,” you slurred, “gonna… hn!- ‘m gonna…”
“I’m right here sweetheart,” Toji was groaning now, shivering a little as the hand at his nape tightened once more. His thrusts were wild - wide sloppy pumps driven haphazardly into the slick mess between your thighs. Sukuna’s thumb continued its assault, drawing steady heart shapes over your clit, right above where Toji was busy splitting you open.
“C’mon princess,” Toji pleaded, words accented with a kicking throb that you felt all the way in your gut, “give it to me.”
You let your eyelids fall shut, squeezed tightly against the way your vision was beginning to blur at the edges. Senses dulled, sounds and scents becoming more and more distant with each second of rising pleasure until suddenly the knot snapped, and you were unraveling along with it.
Toji cursed somewhere beyond the numbed blackness of your senses, and alongside it you felt a flood of heat and the familiar twitching pulse of him as he filled you. Firm hands gripped your waist like an anchor, holding you in place as you squirmed against his final stuttered humps, wracked with unending wave after wave of white hot pleasure.
“Shh, that’s it, that’s a good girl…” Toji was cooing into your ear, forehead pressed to the pillow, only hair tickling your cheek.
The words were a salve, a balm smoothed over your mind until all that was left was the honeyed buzz of pleasure.
You sucked in a shaky breath and realized along with it that you were crying, cheeks soaked and salted with fresh tears. You let your limbs fall, limp and exhausted against the sheets. A subtle ache was beginning to settle in your muscles, in your bones, and yet beneath it all you still felt it - that itch deep inside, like an unending, desirous pit.
“More…” you croaked, voice utterly broken despite your pleading.
Toji scoffed somewhere above you - sounding equal parts shocked and proud at your incessant appetite. You heard the distant thump of approaching footfalls, followed by the telltale creak of a knee digging into the mattress before the bed was dipping beneath a considerable weight, and you felt Toji slip out with a slick sucking sound.
“Move Fushiguro, think I just got my second wind.”
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a/n: kinda ahhh drabble while I work on longer fics bc I’m stuck thinking about tojikuna, hope you enjoy anyway <3
tags — nsfw, dad toji, unprotected, spit kink, creampie, size kink, dumbification, blowjob, breeding, cum dump, protective toji, pet names, spanking, toji cums a lot :p, needy toji, toji misses his wife, unexpected edging, daddy/mommy kink
notes — links are informational NOT nsfw links! OPEN THEM!!
the kid definitely hates him. he didn’t even have to say anything, toji knew. and don’t worry, it was reciprocated. toji would be deep inside you, kissing your lips, driving himself even further into your squelching pussy…
“feels so good ngh, good fhuck,” his grunts against your lips only spurring your whines.
“more, ah ah, t-uh-ji!” his dick was practically melting at your cries. he couldn’t stop, you felt so fucking good. especially with your tits bouncing with each thrust as you desperately whined trying to hold them still, they were still so sensitive.
“keep y’r eyes on me,” toji bites your lip, watching your lashes flutter open, coated in wet tears. fuck.
you were so beautiful. your nails racking down his back, shamelessly digging into his skin as you felt yourself getting closer and closer.
beep! beep!
the baby monitor going off had your breath hitching as toji grunts. he buries his face close to your ear. he doesn’t stop rocking his hips into your warm tight hole.
“let him cry it out…” his jaw clenches as your pussy squeezes him. your neck craning to look at the monitor on the nightstand.
“I think he’s hungry.” fuck, you were so beautiful, he was practically trembling as you gave him a very sympathetic smile. “I didn’t pump, so it hurts…”
his stomach tightens, he never wants to hurt you so of course, he slowly pulls out, dropping his head to your shoulder, as you apologize. your thighs tremble from being edged so close, same for him. hand falling down to his base to calm himself. your lips part—
“don’t say sorry,” he kisses your neck, rolling off you. “go take care of the brat.” you hit his shoulder as he watches you throw on a robe and clean yourself with a towel. his eyes gaze up to the ceiling, dick hard as rock and still covered in your essence. the froth at his base making him ooze more from his tip.
with a sigh he pushes up, and annoyingly finishes himself in the bathroom. washing off, he grabs a pair of sweats and heads over to megumi’s room.
yes it was frustrating, but he still could never be mad at you. watching you feed your baby, your pretty hands stroking the messy spikes of his son’s hair. lucky bastard.
however, toji wished he can go back to those days. the days were at least he could fuck his wife where ever, whenever, since his kid still couldn’t walk and slept for most of the day. it was easy. he could come up behind you in the kitchen and rub himself shamelessly, because megumi is sleeping in the crib in the living room.
at least he could get some very needed relief after training. getting the most of your bigger than usual tits which he loved to handle making you flush with embarrassment because you were insecure about how big and sensitive they got.
bending you over as he pushed his pants down and tugged your own so he could fit his dick deep into your hole. your eyes rolling back as you grabbed the counter, a hand on your mouth to hold back the drawn out moan from the big stretch you’ll never get used too.
“what’s a pretty little slut doing in my kitchen?” he coos in your ear, making you glare at his stupid joke, just for him to give a sharp thrust up, sending a cry into your muffled hand which he easily secured around your mouth.
he didn’t stop until you were trembling and creaming around him and the little baby was still fast asleep.
in other words, it’s been perfectly fine, until you both hit a stump. and that specific stump was megumi’s very needy phase. the kid just turned five when he suddenly caught the biggest attitude known to man, and for some reason he could not leave you alone.
“what happened?” toji was on the phone, drying himself off with a towel.
he could already hear the concern in your voice. “the teacher called and said he’s in the nurses office’.”
“he alright? his cold passed already.” toji shifts the phone from his shoulder to his hand, now more attentive.
“they said he’s okay, but I’m gonna pick him up—“
“I’ll pick him up, it’s okay,” he knew today was an important day at work. it was difficult for you just to leave like that when you were going to pitch a new script in an hour.
“you have a match this weekend, you should finish your train—“
“I’m already in the car,” he lies, but still he’s grabbing his bag. you bite your lip, humming on the line, relieved toji can handle it.
of course, toji has been around megumi’s little school. he usually did drop off in the mornings, since it was on his way to the gym while you were in the other direction. but in other words, toji realized he’d never really been inside the school. he’d only done a tour with you early on, but drop off was just stopping outside the school with his car and megumi hopping out. the teachers already waiting outside to bring the students in since they were so young—
“where’s the nurses?”
the front desk lady almost had a heart attack. the sight of the big dark haired sweaty man, completely had her shaking. the hoodie tossed over his head and his wide shoulders was more than intimidating to anyone. the aura that surrounded him was unlike any other kindergarten parent.
“w-who exactly are you here for?” her voice was very meek and shaky. desperately trying to avoid eye contact.
“megumi.” he noted in his head the reason why you both chose this elementary school. it definitely was better secured than others. after checking his id, she immediately apologized for not recognizing him. everyone in the office spoke about the mma fighter. she just wasn’t expecting him to look like that.
“he has a cold or something?” toji asked the nurse.
“he came in saying his stomach was hurting, wouldn’t go back to class without groaning from the pain.”
….odd.
he took the two steps until he reached the curtain and pulled them back. a yelp escaped the little boy, dropping his Nintendo on his lap.
“where’s mommy?” the distaste was itched in his voice.
toji picked up megumi’s bag. “stomach hurts?”
“ya…” megumi sat up. looking around the room. “mommy picks me up…” he mutters.
“she’s still at work, caught her at a bad time kid, let’s go,” toji grabs megumi, lifting him easily with one arm. the boy pushes his father’s face back.
“I can walk!”
“thought your stomach hurt?” megumi falls silent, still holding toji’s face away until the man plops the kids back beside him and allows him to follow him out the nurse’s office. he stays a couple steps behind his father, a small pout dusting his lips.
“woah is that megumi’s dad!?”
“he’s so big!”
“his muscles are bigger than my head!”
megumi’s brows pinch as he hears the kids in the hall whisper and gush around him. he never understood what it all meant. all his dad does is stay in a gym all day then come back all bruised up, and you would have to get up and clean his bandages every day. he also latched onto you most of the time he comes back home. he felt like a parasite, megumi could never snuggle with you because his dad was always plopping himself beside you and pull you in.
but unlike his father, you actually work all night. typing and typing, megumi loved listening to the stories you’d make. your food was always the best. you picked out new clothes for him. bought him books you knew he’d like. but his dad….megumi has never seen him work a day in his life, and all he can cook is mac n’ cheese and other frozen stuff—
“you listening kid?” toji’s voice snapped him back to the present.
“huh?”
“you get into a fight or something?” toji looks at megumi through the front mirror. the kid looking out the window, arms crossed.
“no.”
“your stomach doesn’t hurt?”
“yes.” megumi snaps his head forward. “no it does hurt.”
“yes it doesn’t hurt?” toji raises a brow.
“no! it does!—“
“because you miss mommy?” megumi’s face goes pale. jackpot. “I won’t tell her.”
megumi does not find this funny. even as toji’s laugh rattles the car. instead he stays quiet as his father unbuckles his seatbelt and helps him out of the car seat. the two entering the large house as toji drops his bags at the side watching megumi wander off.
only an hour or so passes, when you finally arrive. bending down to kick your shoes off. the pattered sounds of running footsteps alarms you as you look up to see megumi already jumping on you.
“missed you,” he mumbles into your neck as he squeezes you close, standing up with him in your arms.
“I heard your tummy hurt?” you coo, brushing his unruly hair. megumi hums, holding you closer, only to spot his father leaning against the counter with a shit-eating smirk.
“how bad did it hurt?” toji taunts, catching your attention. instinctively heading to him, as you lean up, smiling once his lips connect with yours. eyeing megumi who has a deep death stare.
“it hurt a lot,” megumi glares. you round the counter to sit megumi on the chair.
“how’re you feeling now? did daddy give you medicine already?” you look over your shoulder to see toji biting his cheek to contain his smile. “what?-“
“yes I took medicine!” megumi snaps your attention back to him. “I’m hungry.”
“when you had a stomach ache last time, you couldn’t eat a thing?” toji questions. megumi feels like screaming, his cheeks steaming with embarrassment.
“this means you’re feeling better! I’ll get something started,” you kiss the little boys cheek, turning around to make eyes with your husband, a look that gave, what’s going on? he only gave you a wink in response.
“ahh, fuck toji,” you’ve gotten better at controlling your moans. but toji only found your breathy gasps and mewls against his ear even more attractive.
“deserve a reward for—shit—“ you’d spent hours up, writing your script and when it came time to pitch it to producers; you had to practice it over and over in front of toji and megumi. so when producers actually loved it and signed you on, you were beyond ecstatic. you were worried about megumi all day though which made you feel anxious.
“what’s with gumi today?” you remember, wondering what toji’s teasing was all about.
toji grunts, almost laughing. “he didn’t have a stomach ache. he just ungh missed you,” his lips press to yours. “I missed you too.” he bites your lip, your eyes fluttering. your heart warms at your son’s embarrassment.
“don’t tease him,” you pant, making toji chuckle.
“yes, mommy.” toji knew every single thing about your body, and he loved playing with you.
“wanna c-cum—fuck me…harder t…wan’ it!” you cry out, begging toji to get rougher. he bites your neck, pulling out with a small cry from you, you reach out to slip it back in, but his grip tightens around your waist, flipping you on your stomach.
“greedy today,” toji slaps your ass, watching it ripple against his big palm as he kneads the flesh, pulling your hips back as he grabs his cock. “tight fucking cunt—“ his grip tightens as he pulls your hips back to meet his. you bury your mouth into the pillow to conceal the scream-like moan. “fuck, ungh, dirty fucking girl, beggin’ f’r me,” his lips curl as you reach behind you. immediately understanding his pretty wife as he drops his hand over yours. you squeeze his fingers as he leans his face.
“kiss me,” you’re looking back with tears in your eyes, and he almost busts a bit too soon. he’ll never understand people who fall out of love, because he could never imagine not wanting you. touching you. kissing you—
“my pretty puppy,” he lifts your body up, arm wrapping around your torso as your head falls back to meet his wet lips. his abs clench as he feels your pussy squeeze him. your tongue hanging out, a tell tale sign of how close you’re getting.
“ah, t-ji…ah ha…cumin’” fuck, you still get so dumb on his dick. your stutters and empty head driving him to his peak. his hand slides down your torso to rub your puffy clit, so close to—
KNOCK knock KNOCK knock—
you gasp startled as you and toji fall forward, he holds a hand to your mouth as you unconsciously let out a whine. “fucking brat,” toji grunts as he pulls out.
“mommy?” megumi jiggles the door handle. “mommy—“
“yes baby?” you call out, voice hoarse and head foggy as toji kisses your cheeks, gently rubbing across your torso getting you back to your senses. you push forward, only for toji to grab you pulling you back to his chest.
“tell him to go back to sleep,” his hand falls between your legs, making your hips buck— you to pull away.
“he gets nightmares,” you grab a towel, cleaning yourself quickly before slipping on shorts and one of your husband’s shirts.
“he’s doing this on purpose,” toji aggressively grabs the sheets covering the not so PG rated scene. his dick was throbbing painfully. he’s never been fond of edging.
“he doesn’t know anything,” you scold him, not before rushing over to him, kissing his lips. his hum makes you smile as he rubs the back of your neck, his grip tightening only for you to pull away with a guilty smile. he sighs dropping his head back watching you open the door to find megumi with a hand over his eye, yawning.
“why aren’t you sleeping?” toji leans on his arm, watching you coddle the boy.
megumi pouts at his fathers comment. “b-because….”
you stand up with megumi in your arms as you walk back to his room. your hand brushing his hair.
toji falls back on the bed. eyes piercing the ceiling.
“he’s in one of his moods again…” gojo, toji’s sparring partner, mumbles to shiu.
“what happened?” shiu looks at gojo icing a cut on his lip while toji tightens his gloves with his teeth, pounding them together.
“let’s go!” his roar startled the other trainers on his team.
it wasn’t uncommon for toji to be in his “moods”. I mean it used to be a very common thing a couple years ago. however, no one will say it to his face, but he’s definitely gotten much softer and calmer after marrying you. he’s thrown some fits when megumi was a couple months old, but he’s been calm since then.
“toji!”
your voice suddenly had the fighters eyes brightening. holding your hand tight was megumi. his eyes wandering around the punching bags. he’s been to the gym before, but only with you.
toji used to bring megumi frequently when he was a baby, but after he started registering things, you didn’t want him around all that fighting, afraid it’ll rub off on him—
“megumi!” gojo rushes over, the entire gym flipping over at your son’s appearance. the spitting image of their grumpy idol, but a cuter more innocent version. gojo having a very annoying way of pampering the boy.
“how’s it going?” you ask toji, climbing into the ring as gojo watches (bothers) megumi, along with shiu.
toji meets your lips. “good.”
you lean back, fingers brushing the scar on his lip, noticing the distance in eyes. that’s when you notice he’s looking at a certain little boy. “toji?”
“he’s got it out for me,” he whispers to you, megumi was looking at toji curiously. you hit the man’s shoulder with the back of your hand.
“he’s a kid, he doesn’t know anything. and about last night—“
“don’t bring it up,” he drops his head on your shoulder, sighing as your fingers brush his nape, gently scratching it just the way he likes. “fuck, you felt so good.” he groans, “definitely would’ve knocked you up with the load i was gunna give ya.” your ears sting at his vulgar confession. “left me in the dust.”
“not my fault,” you murmur, surprised your voice was leveled.
“i know,” his big arms, are wrapped around your waist and shoulders completely. hugging you close as his glare settles on the urchin haired kid.
meanwhile, shiu, gojo, and the others are huddled around megumi talking about none other than.
“my dad is not cool,” megumi rolls his eyes, arms crossed as gojo is kneeling in front of him, ice pack on his lip.
“he most definitely is, the guy is superhuman! he moves so quick!” one of the other fighters gush, other agreeing. they all talk about toji as if he’s some super celebrity, like the way his friends also talk about him. megumi isn’t an idiot, he knows toji is a famous fighter, but that doesn’t mean he knows how good.
the more his father’s team praises his dad, the more megumi’s curiosity peaks.
you look over to smile at megumi, who obviously is growing very annoyed at gojo, shiu and the other team who are now coddling him. after wiggling his way out, he makes his way over to you, only for toji to be the one to left him up. megumi frowns, leaning his arm on his father’s shoulder propping his big cheek on his hand with a pout.
“you hungry?” you joke at his expression.
megumi looks away from you, odd, over to toji, who’s laughing at the boys reaction. “can I go to your match tomorrow?”
huh?
you and toji immediately exchange looks.
“you wanna see your old man fight?” toji’s lips curl up into a teasing smile.
megumi nods, “ya.”
you bite your cheek, contemplating. he was older now, albeit still a kid. your eyes shift to toji unsure.
“if the kids wants to go, then…” toji definitely was not the man he used to be. you could read him like a fucking book. as much as he was complaining, and mumbling how pent up he’s been these past weeks because of “the brat”, he most certainly cannot hide the simple truth that he wants megumi to see his match.
“then i guess we’ll have to go to sleep early tonight,” you smile, noticing megumi’s small smile, not too obvious.
megumi stayed close beside you. shifting from holding him in your arms, to letting him walk beside you. his cute ears were covered with headphones because of how loud the stadium is. along with some guards to watch over you both.
toji was warming up when you both walked into the lockerroom. your hand stayed in megumi, not letting him go over to his dad, knowing not to disturb his mindset right now.
megumi tugged on your hand, ushering you to his level so he can whisper in your ear. “why is daddy angry?” however, because of the headphones, his whisper, was more of a shout.
you stifled a laugh, especially when everyone in the room, including toji, heard.
“gumi!”
the boy jumped at the booming voice. looking over at his father waving a hand to come over. megumi cocked his head up at you, but ultimately let go and made his way over. toji grunts as he lifts him up, sitting him on his lap.
“getting heavier kid,” he smiles when megumi looks away trying to hide his own smile. “don’t cry when i prove to ya how strong i am.”
you roll your eyes at toji, as does megumi who crosses his arms as well. either way toji ruffles the kid’s unkept hair before standing up. megumi’s eyes gaze up, noting how tall and big his father is. and he remembers what his friend yuuji said to him in class today.
your dad looks like he’s the strongest person ever! my dad always watches his fights and he also says your dad is crazzzy strong! I’m training to be super strong too! I’ll be the next best fighter ever!! megumi also recalls the way yuuji was flexing his nonexistent bicep muscles, slapping them with the other hand as if their huge.
you come up, holding megumi’s shoulders as your eyes meet toji’s dark ones. his fingers tilt your chin up, megumi staring up from the middle as his father leans closer, lips brushing your ear.
“I’ll earn my reward tonight.”
your cheeks sting as he comes back, pecking your lips, before his hand falls over megumi’s head, ruffling his hair even more, distracting the kid from toji deepening the kiss for a moment, satisfied enough to pull away , teeth pulling at your bottom lip. he tilts your chin up again, lips curled up at the lustful eyes you give him. thumb tapping your bottom lip.
toji averts his attention back to his son. “wish me luck.”
megumi is silent as he watches toji’s teams crowd him as they lead him out to the stadium. shiu stays back with you and megumi and has you both escorted to your seats. gumi’s small hand grips yours tightly as you watch the stadium cheering and clapping.
you like taking pride in being megumi’s favorite, especially when toji’s trying to win an argument and you ask megumi who’s right and he’ll always point to you, not even bothering to look up from the tv screen.
nonetheless, you can’t help but smile when you notice megumi’s eyes light up when the stadium lights start to dim and dark blue flashes start to flicker. your heart is definitely very warm because you know how toji’s entrance usually is accompanied by red lights, but i guess when he asked you this morning if megumi’s favorite color was still blue, this is what he meant.
megumi was standing on his seat, next to you, arm around your shoulders as you kept and arm around him for stability, letting him get a better view as his father stepped into the stadium. loud music ensuing as the crowd got riled up.
your heart was beating fast, cheeks slowly crawling with heat as you watched your husband. he always looked like someone straight out of a movie. but then he’d casually glance over. his deep green eyes meeting yours and looking at megumi. the little boy felt chills at his father’s gaze. he’s never understood what people meant when they called his dad cool, but maybe that’s what it’s like. seeing the entire stadium cheering for him even before the match has started. how the crowd is split between his fans and his opponents fans.
“how good is daddy?” megumi leaned down to you. your hand holding his tummy, so he doesn’t fall forward.
“he’s very good!” you could tell megumi was scared, especially when his opponent was some guy with crazy pink hair and vicious tattoos that littered his entire body. even his dad didn’t have face tattoos!
was he scared that maybe his dad wasn’t that cool? maybe he really was just the dad that drops him off at school, and teases him all day….megumi felt his heart beating faster when his opponent threw a vicious first punch, immediately putting distance so he can throw a powerful kick straight into toji’s ribs.
you could feel megumi’s hand tighten around your shirt, his other hand balled into a fist as he watched toji take a direct punch to the face.
toji had been preparing for this fight for weeks. someone challenging his title always had a big publicity boost. and sukuna was not just any old player.
so when toji was placed into a headlock, you almost felt your stomach coil, and megumi bit his lip. his eyes welling up as he inhaled sharply….
“DAD! i said good luck!” megumi’s loud scream only seemed to echo even louder since your seats were near the cage.
toji couldn’t help his shit-eating grin, blood coating his chin. first time he’s heard the kid that loudly, he shouldn’t disappoint.
megumi felt his hair fly up when his dad gave him a wink, and like a switch happened, he immediately turned the tables on his opponent. you hadn’t seen megumi so worked up…ever. he was jumping on his seat cheering, as you stood up. toji held his opponent to the mat, after a couple seconds sukuna finally submitted.
the crowd was on it’s feet, creating echos of noise as they cheered for their victor! megumi was clapping as he looked at you.
“dad was so cool!!! he was moving so fast!” he was definitely worked up, his little cheeks flushed and eyes bright.
“well I’m not someone that likes to brag,” toji appeared before you as megumi immediately jumped up. catching the both of you so off-guard. he only did that to you, but toji took it. lifting the kid in his arms as megumi gushed to him. i guess he did have some of your traits, the way he babbled on and on, and made crazy gestures with his hands.
the cameras had a field day as megumi sat on toji’s shoulders as he answered a couple questions.
by the time you arrived home, megumi was completely knocked out.
toji carries him to his room. you’re in the kitchen when he comes back, you made a protein shake for him, after exerting so much energy.
“he was screaming the entire time,” you hand him the cup, watching as he chugs it. “never thought I’d see him so loud.”
“had to make him like me somehow. he never leaves you alone,” toji saunters over to you, his hands trapping you against the counter, leaning down. “needed mommy to give me a reward, didn’t i?”
you scoff, “don’t act like you didn’t want his approval.” toji doesn’t respond. “the blue lights?”
“sukuna’s entrance also had red, so i needed to stand out,” he gaslights, making you laugh.
“you’re such a softie you know that?” the little jabs you give him never gets old, especially when it’s about your kid.
“if i say yes, can i finally cum in ya?” he licks your lips, smiling at the flustered daze in your eyes. “had to cum on myself for weeks,” he groans, remembering how he’d finish himself off every single time.
“ ‘s not my fault,” you sigh as he kisses down your neck, his own hand falling between your bodies.
his voice vibrates against your skin, as he picks you up, placing you on the counter. “you baby him.”
“I do not!” you do.
he pulls away, a deadpan expression so clear he doesn’t even have to say it. you bite your cheek, looking at the kitchen wall. but toji returns to your lips nibbling at the skin as his hand pushed up the pretty top you wore for his match.
“mmm, toji?” your lips pull away, he hums tongue licking at the cut on his lip. he’s definitely gotten used to kissing you after matches, the stinging now adding to his own pleasure. he waits patiently for you to keep going. your hands gently holding his face as you look over the deep bruise on his cheekbone. “I’m sorry about last night, and the nights before.”
his green eyes settle, gently. hands coming up to pull your shirt over, arm snaking back to unclasp your pretty bra, his hand situated under your jaw as he tilts your head up. “now why’re you apologizing?”
“well because……i feel bad,” you murmur, embarrassed that this man can still make you blush like an idiot. exposing you so openly to his eyes. your nipples perking up from the cool breeze.
“don’t,” his thumb slides up to your bottom lip, massaging your adorable pout away.
“you were literally complaining about it,” you roll your eyes, unconsciously arching up when he lifts your chin higher.
“when did you start taking my jokes so seriously? is my princess forgetting who I am?”
“yes she is,” you cock your head. “I think she needs a reminder.”
his lips curl up along with a brow. “fucking tease.” he captures your lips, tongue wet as he licks your lips, smiling once you part them to allow the kiss to go deeper. his grip behind your neck warming your skin. “missed you so much,” he groans, feeling your hand rub over his sweats.
“I know,” you bite his lip, making him wince at the pain, the stinging of the cut sending blood rushing south. you knew him too well. “I’m all yours,” your palm rubs a little harder around his tip, making his hips jolt. “daddy deserves attention.”
the stupid nickname was something you only used to address him around megumi, but hearing the name right now, suddenly sent a different feeling coursing through his head. “fuck.” he grabs your hand, rocking his hips against your palm as he leans down, kissing and biting at your tits.
“you like that?” you taunt, “daddy wants his reward,” you coo, petting his hair as he kisses your nipples, sucking one into his mouth, he’s so rough. his bite making you yelp. “want something for being such a good boy—wha!—“
you were suddenly on the ground, heart beating fast because toji had moved in the blink of an eye. you hate how fast he is sometimes, especially when he scares you like that.
“getting all cocky after edging me for weeks?” his pants were pushed down, along with his shorts and boxers. allowing you to be face to face with the familiar length. a blush immediately spreading across your cheeks at how worked up he is.
“barely touched you,” you kiss his tip, not without your shit-eating grin making his abs clench. why are you so fucking hot?
“open up,” he grabs his base, slapping his heavy dick on your cheeks, something he only did when you were…well acting like this. you can’t stop now, your smile spreading even more when you give him a look.
“you haveta say please.”
“what happened to reward?” his jaw clenched, tip oozing only for you to press a thumb across his slit licking the bitter taste. “fuckkk, please—now open up-ah fuck!” toji grabs your head as you lather his cock with your spit. “fuck.” kissing his base, just to get him even more worked up, knowing how much he loves seeing how big his dick is laying across your face.
“my wife’s so slutty,” he sighs, brushing your forehead where his tip oozes a little on your face. you come back to his tip, grabbing his base as you take him into your mouth. “good girl.”
your stomach is full of butterflies. you love giving toji head, he always looked so hot from this position, especially post-match, his bruises still prominent and he was more needy. letting you baby him and give him head first.
a few tears slipped down your cheeks as toji held your head, cooing everytime you hum around him. “look at me, mommy,” he grunts, balls swinging as you curl your hands around them, playing with his sack making his hips jerk. “shit,” you edge him closer, his heart beating quicker as you gaze up with your big tear filled eyes. the love of his life, the mother of his child, the most beautiful girl in the world—
“fhuckk,” his grip is tight on your head as the knot in his stomach snaps, blowing his load into your mouth. you pull away to catch your breath for a second, but he’s still cumming, ruining your face. you open your mouth again and milk his cock for more. “atta girl, fuck just like that….swallow all of it,” he sighs, brushing your hair as you swallow so much of him. unbothered as it falls on your tits, your free hand collecting the mess and spreading it on his happy trail making him shudder. dirty girl.
your breathing heavily as he bends down, capturing your lips, smiling even bigger because your mouth is empty, having swallowed every single drop.
“miss my cum?” he pulls away.
you nod, throwing your arms around his neck, hugging him close so he was just inches from your face. “that’s not all, right? baby boy wants to cum inside me?”
“fuck,” he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. “you like talking, huh? being a dirty fucking slut?“
“i know you like it,” you make the man laugh, a blush coating his cheeks. you always surprise him. “wait the clothes,” you shuffle away, trying to grab the clothes before you head upstairs, but toji keeps a tight grip. slapping your ass.
“i got it, stay still,” he bends down to grab his pants and your things. he starts making his way upstairs, your tongue kissing and licking his face. the door quietly closing behind him, as you continue falling deeper and deeper into your head.
“mommy all horny now?” he coos, laying you on the bed as you buck your hips up.
“take care of me,” you whine. there’s his wife, so whiney and bratty. his lips meet yours, teasing you with his knee, watching you buck your hips against it.
“thought this was daddy’s reward, not mommy’s?” he pulls away, making your mouth open, they were all wet and puffy from how much you’ve been kissing.
“you like it when i cum,” you hold his face, using the biggest doe eyes that always have him twitching, your pretty tits squeezed together as you brush his raven hair back. “wanna cum for daddy….uh I’m so wet.” fuck, since when does role-play work so well on him?!
“fer daddy, aye?” he pulls your pants down, easily maneuvering your legs up so he can pull them off, your little thong soaked completely through. “you came already?”
your finger plays with your bottom lip, a tell-tale sign of your guilt.
“missed tasting you,” you lean up, wrapping your arms around the man, arching into him as you kiss his cheek. “you came so much….want you to cum inside me now,” your hand held his, pressing it between your legs making him groan at the slick that slips down his fingers easily. “want you inside me, daddy.”
his cheeks were stinging so unbelievably turned on by you. “ y’r fuckin’ killing’ me,” he groans as you slide your adorable panties to the side, head dropping against his as you watch his fingers sink inside you, more slick oozing down as you rub your hands up his neck. his deep green eyes half-lidded as he watches your face twist in pleasure. “look at me.”
his heart skipped a beat at your pretty lashes fluttering up to meet his. “gun….cum,” you pant, jaw dropping as toji holds your waist up, already feeling your body shake as he quickens his fingers inside you, feeling you squeeze around him.
“there ya go,” he praises, rubbing your clit in vicious circles, until you’re falling over. “shh baby, inside voices,” he coos, grunting once he feels your face press into his shoulder, cumming around him with a muffled cry. soaking his hand.
you barely have time to catch your breath, as he lays you down across the bed, tossing the drenched panties aside. his face between your legs making you cry out.
“what’d i say?” toji snaps, pulling away.
“I’m sorry,” you hold a hand to your mouth, put toji notices the way you clench around nothing. so he rubs his fingers through your sticky folds, and decides to do something he hasn’t done in awhile. pinch your clit.
you couldn’t stop the cry for escaping this time. tears filling your eyes as the man’s face sinks.
“not gun’a listen now?” his body flips you over. “show ‘me y’r pussy,” he demands. tongue peaking out to touch his scar.
“it’s embarrassing, toji,” you blush, breaking the little roleplay, because you really didn’t mean to moan that loudly. it’s been a few years now of toji training you to only get loud when he’s got his lips around yours. but you were acting like his little slut again—
slap!
your body jolts, pussy stinging at the slap he just gave you.
“embarrassed to show daddy your hole?” he rubs your pussy, his mannerisms so clearly inviting that you can’t help but sink your body lower, arching your back further and spreading your legs even more. “there we go, mommy’s so good,” he praises, making you whine.
“fuck me now,” you wiggle your hips, smiling when you feel his bruised knuckles brush your sopping pussy, playing with your clit.
“ya gonna stay quiet?” he leans over, kissing your lower back, his face lowering to lap at your pussy. you whine, rolling your hips as toji sucks your slick into his mouth. “ah fuck, need ya,” he suddenly looms behind you, pumping his dick aggressively.
you’re eyes are looking back, complete drool escaping your lips once his big hands splay over your back, lining his tip to your pulsing hole.
his tip pushes past your slick, you were so ready for him to thrust his full length into you, but this slow sinking in was much more mind numbing. your eyes slowly roll back as he fully bottoms out.
“take me so well,” he groans, leaning over to kiss your shoulder over and over, fingers lacing around yours as he slowly pulls his hips back and going back in.
“toji,” you turn, lips falling open as he groans. his dick was fucking melting at how good you are. the slow pace was tantalizing.
“baby?” his fingers curl around your face, leaning down so his lips are close to your ear. his voice was deep and filled with heavy pants, “gunna fuck you like ya want, so don’t wake up gumi, kay?”
you nod quickly. “kay.”
your eyes completely cross and toji was so unbelievably ready to fuck your brains out. all his pent up sexual frustration and his longing for you was so strong and overwhelming. he was fucking you so roughly, not just piercing your deepest spot, but sliding through your walls as his head went back.
his hand closed over your mouth as you came around him. a babbling mess when he pulled away and turned you over on yer back.
“toji,” your mind was foggy as you reached out for him, legs pressed to your head as he gave you a toothy grin.
“what happened to daddy?” he slipped his tip back in, holding your sweaty thighs down as he pulled back and slammed into you. the position always making him reach the deepest parts of you. he pressed into your tummy as he kissed your cervix too many times.
“da—ddy,” your lips fell open, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he leaned down, lips melting into yours. you sucked on his tongue, as his spit collected in your mouth, always his little puppy. his chest pushed you into a deeper mating press.
“mommy likes daddy’s dick that much?” he grunts feeling you clench around him, it was getting easier to make you cum tonight. he felt a bad for making it seem like he was the only one that missed you, when it was so obvious tonight how much you also missed him.
he picks up the speed. his heavy balls slapping your ass making the room echo of fwap-fwap and your beautiful cries. “tell daddy how much ya want it, fuck cmon,” your eyes were filled with bubble tears.
“want it so much….want daddy’s cum! want my tummy full— ah ah toji!” your eyes slowly cross as he watches you get closer and closer, nails digging down his biceps.
“gunna fuck make mommy have another b-ungh baby.” the role play was getting into his head, reminding him of how fucking beautiful his wife is, solidifying the image that yes, he’ll fuck her until the day he dies and give her as many fucking babies as she wants.
the moment your eyes crossed, his hand fell over your mouth, completely loosing all sense as you came, crying into his hand pushing toji immediately too. his dick was pulsing, dumping ropes and ropes and ropes of his cum. head falling to your shoulder as he fucked your pussy through his high.
his body was on autopilot, lazy thrusts following his desires. he couldn’t stop cumming, the squelch and oozing that slipped out only had more spurts shooting out of his tip. completely coating your insides in white warmth. “to..ji,” your soft call had him sliding your legs down to his waist, lifting his head so gently, his own head going dizzy just by your expression and the amount he’s spilled inside you. you were the most beautiful, precious soul in the world.
“love ya, baby,” he whispers, kissing you. you sigh, combing his hair as he gives a full body shudder, staying still for longer than usual before pulling out. he takes a moment to peck your lips before huddling over to the bathroom, cleaning himself off and returning to wipe you down.
tossing the towel aside, making you huff, he falls beside you. you roll over brushing his hair, as your eyes grow heavy. his hand coming up to caress your adorable cheeks. he guesses he really did a number on his pretty wife. smiling to himself for the victory.
knock. knock. knock!
your heart jumps into your throat. “why is he awake?” you whisper yell, toji rubs the bridge of his nose, only to wince remembering the bruise there.
“as if you weren’t screaming yer head off,” he deadpans. your cheeks flare, annoyed at yourself, but then again—
“well—“
knock, knock knock!
you wince when you try to sit up. fuck, toji didn’t hold back at all. his brow quirks, only to grin mischievously—
“dick, go answer the door!” you shove him back, still struggling to sit up when toji cackles, grabbing a pair of clean pajama pants and tshirt (to hide the new scratches) heading to the door. you’re able to sit up and toss on a shirt once he opens the door.
“what’s up?” toji looks down at the kid, his little head tilted up as he rubs his eye, stuffed animal in his arm. megumi is silent.
your brows pinch, noticing megumi holding onto toji’s pant leg. the fighter, places a hand on the boy, before kneeling down, his thumb brushing the kid’s bangs from his forehead.
“still having those nightmares?” megumi nods.
“sum monster was screaming,” he explains. you hold your breath, cheek flaring.
“ahh ya those monsters are real loud sometimes,” toji has to do everything in his power not to laugh because he can already feel the embarrassment and anger coming from you. “but they’re not real, so it’s all good.” he pats the kids head. but that doesn’t help.
“can you sleep with me?” megumi is looking at the ground when he asks.
“mommy isn’t feeling—“
“not mommy…you.” the simple, quiet muttered words do a little too much for toji. his eyes so wide and his lips falling open. megumi looks back at his dad after the silence gets too long. “what—“
“nothing!” toji grabs the kid, lifting him up. megumi automatically sinks into his father’s arm resting his head on his shoulder, unconsciously feeling very safe. his dad is a superhuman after all.
toji doesn’t hold back when he looks over his shoulder at you and sticks his tongue out.
once the two disappear down the hall, you’re left alone. stuck to the bed. head hitting the pillow as you gaze up at the ceiling.
so this is what toji felt like.
it’s important to educate others, to learn more, and to stay updated! they want us to stop talking, but we won’t be silenced!!!
OPEN THESE LINKS 🔗 follow these acc + reblog/repost so it can reach others and ppl can stay informed! that’s what we need, a UNITED FRONT! and if u think it doesn’t work LOOK AT CHICAGO!!
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tags — nsfw, dad toji, unprotected, spit kink, creampie, size kink, dumbification, blowjob, breeding, cum dump, protective toji, pet names, spanking, toji cums a lot :p, needy toji, toji misses his wife, unexpected edging, daddy/mommy kink
notes — links are informational NOT nsfw links! OPEN THEM!!
the kid definitely hates him. he didn’t even have to say anything, toji knew. and don’t worry, it was reciprocated. toji would be deep inside you, kissing your lips, driving himself even further into your squelching pussy…
“feels so good ngh, good fhuck,” his grunts against your lips only spurring your whines.
“more, ah ah, t-uh-ji!” his dick was practically melting at your cries. he couldn’t stop, you felt so fucking good. especially with your tits bouncing with each thrust as you desperately whined trying to hold them still, they were still so sensitive.
“keep y’r eyes on me,” toji bites your lip, watching your lashes flutter open, coated in wet tears. fuck.
you were so beautiful. your nails racking down his back, shamelessly digging into his skin as you felt yourself getting closer and closer.
beep! beep!
the baby monitor going off had your breath hitching as toji grunts. he buries his face close to your ear. he doesn’t stop rocking his hips into your warm tight hole.
“let him cry it out…” his jaw clenches as your pussy squeezes him. your neck craning to look at the monitor on the nightstand.
“I think he’s hungry.” fuck, you were so beautiful, he was practically trembling as you gave him a very sympathetic smile. “I didn’t pump, so it hurts…”
his stomach tightens, he never wants to hurt you so of course, he slowly pulls out, dropping his head to your shoulder, as you apologize. your thighs tremble from being edged so close, same for him. hand falling down to his base to calm himself. your lips part—
“don’t say sorry,” he kisses your neck, rolling off you. “go take care of the brat.” you hit his shoulder as he watches you throw on a robe and clean yourself with a towel. his eyes gaze up to the ceiling, dick hard as rock and still covered in your essence. the froth at his base making him ooze more from his tip.
with a sigh he pushes up, and annoyingly finishes himself in the bathroom. washing off, he grabs a pair of sweats and heads over to megumi’s room.
yes it was frustrating, but he still could never be mad at you. watching you feed your baby, your pretty hands stroking the messy spikes of his son’s hair. lucky bastard.
however, toji wished he can go back to those days. the days were at least he could fuck his wife where ever, whenever, since his kid still couldn’t walk and slept for most of the day. it was easy. he could come up behind you in the kitchen and rub himself shamelessly, because megumi is sleeping in the crib in the living room.
at least he could get some very needed relief after training. getting the most of your bigger than usual tits which he loved to handle making you flush with embarrassment because you were insecure about how big and sensitive they got.
bending you over as he pushed his pants down and tugged your own so he could fit his dick deep into your hole. your eyes rolling back as you grabbed the counter, a hand on your mouth to hold back the drawn out moan from the big stretch you’ll never get used too.
“what’s a pretty little slut doing in my kitchen?” he coos in your ear, making you glare at his stupid joke, just for him to give a sharp thrust up, sending a cry into your muffled hand which he easily secured around your mouth.
he didn’t stop until you were trembling and creaming around him and the little baby was still fast asleep.
in other words, it’s been perfectly fine, until you both hit a stump. and that specific stump was megumi’s very needy phase. the kid just turned five when he suddenly caught the biggest attitude known to man, and for some reason he could not leave you alone.
“what happened?” toji was on the phone, drying himself off with a towel.
he could already hear the concern in your voice. “the teacher called and said he’s in the nurses office’.”
“he alright? his cold passed already.” toji shifts the phone from his shoulder to his hand, now more attentive.
“they said he’s okay, but I’m gonna pick him up—“
“I’ll pick him up, it’s okay,” he knew today was an important day at work. it was difficult for you just to leave like that when you were going to pitch a new script in an hour.
“you have a match this weekend, you should finish your train—“
“I’m already in the car,” he lies, but still he’s grabbing his bag. you bite your lip, humming on the line, relieved toji can handle it.
of course, toji has been around megumi’s little school. he usually did drop off in the mornings, since it was on his way to the gym while you were in the other direction. but in other words, toji realized he’d never really been inside the school. he’d only done a tour with you early on, but drop off was just stopping outside the school with his car and megumi hopping out. the teachers already waiting outside to bring the students in since they were so young—
“where’s the nurses?”
the front desk lady almost had a heart attack. the sight of the big dark haired sweaty man, completely had her shaking. the hoodie tossed over his head and his wide shoulders was more than intimidating to anyone. the aura that surrounded him was unlike any other kindergarten parent.
“w-who exactly are you here for?” her voice was very meek and shaky. desperately trying to avoid eye contact.
“megumi.” he noted in his head the reason why you both chose this elementary school. it definitely was better secured than others. after checking his id, she immediately apologized for not recognizing him. everyone in the office spoke about the mma fighter. she just wasn’t expecting him to look like that.
“he has a cold or something?” toji asked the nurse.
“he came in saying his stomach was hurting, wouldn’t go back to class without groaning from the pain.”
….odd.
he took the two steps until he reached the curtain and pulled them back. a yelp escaped the little boy, dropping his Nintendo on his lap.
“where’s mommy?” the distaste was itched in his voice.
toji picked up megumi’s bag. “stomach hurts?”
“ya…” megumi sat up. looking around the room. “mommy picks me up…” he mutters.
“she’s still at work, caught her at a bad time kid, let’s go,” toji grabs megumi, lifting him easily with one arm. the boy pushes his father’s face back.
“I can walk!”
“thought your stomach hurt?” megumi falls silent, still holding toji’s face away until the man plops the kids back beside him and allows him to follow him out the nurse’s office. he stays a couple steps behind his father, a small pout dusting his lips.
“woah is that megumi’s dad!?”
“he’s so big!”
“his muscles are bigger than my head!”
megumi’s brows pinch as he hears the kids in the hall whisper and gush around him. he never understood what it all meant. all his dad does is stay in a gym all day then come back all bruised up, and you would have to get up and clean his bandages every day. he also latched onto you most of the time he comes back home. he felt like a parasite, megumi could never snuggle with you because his dad was always plopping himself beside you and pull you in.
but unlike his father, you actually work all night. typing and typing, megumi loved listening to the stories you’d make. your food was always the best. you picked out new clothes for him. bought him books you knew he’d like. but his dad….megumi has never seen him work a day in his life, and all he can cook is mac n’ cheese and other frozen stuff—
“you listening kid?” toji’s voice snapped him back to the present.
“huh?”
“you get into a fight or something?” toji looks at megumi through the front mirror. the kid looking out the window, arms crossed.
“no.”
“your stomach doesn’t hurt?”
“yes.” megumi snaps his head forward. “no it does hurt.”
“yes it doesn’t hurt?” toji raises a brow.
“no! it does!—“
“because you miss mommy?” megumi’s face goes pale. jackpot. “I won’t tell her.”
megumi does not find this funny. even as toji’s laugh rattles the car. instead he stays quiet as his father unbuckles his seatbelt and helps him out of the car seat. the two entering the large house as toji drops his bags at the side watching megumi wander off.
only an hour or so passes, when you finally arrive. bending down to kick your shoes off. the pattered sounds of running footsteps alarms you as you look up to see megumi already jumping on you.
“missed you,” he mumbles into your neck as he squeezes you close, standing up with him in your arms.
“I heard your tummy hurt?” you coo, brushing his unruly hair. megumi hums, holding you closer, only to spot his father leaning against the counter with a shit-eating smirk.
“how bad did it hurt?” toji taunts, catching your attention. instinctively heading to him, as you lean up, smiling once his lips connect with yours. eyeing megumi who has a deep death stare.
“it hurt a lot,” megumi glares. you round the counter to sit megumi on the chair.
“how’re you feeling now? did daddy give you medicine already?” you look over your shoulder to see toji biting his cheek to contain his smile. “what?-“
“yes I took medicine!” megumi snaps your attention back to him. “I’m hungry.”
“when you had a stomach ache last time, you couldn’t eat a thing?” toji questions. megumi feels like screaming, his cheeks steaming with embarrassment.
“this means you’re feeling better! I’ll get something started,” you kiss the little boys cheek, turning around to make eyes with your husband, a look that gave, what’s going on? he only gave you a wink in response.
“ahh, fuck toji,” you’ve gotten better at controlling your moans. but toji only found your breathy gasps and mewls against his ear even more attractive.
“deserve a reward for—shit—“ you’d spent hours up, writing your script and when it came time to pitch it to producers; you had to practice it over and over in front of toji and megumi. so when producers actually loved it and signed you on, you were beyond ecstatic. you were worried about megumi all day though which made you feel anxious.
“what’s with gumi today?” you remember, wondering what toji’s teasing was all about.
toji grunts, almost laughing. “he didn’t have a stomach ache. he just ungh missed you,” his lips press to yours. “I missed you too.” he bites your lip, your eyes fluttering. your heart warms at your son’s embarrassment.
“don’t tease him,” you pant, making toji chuckle.
“yes, mommy.” toji knew every single thing about your body, and he loved playing with you.
“wanna c-cum—fuck me…harder t…wan’ it!” you cry out, begging toji to get rougher. he bites your neck, pulling out with a small cry from you, you reach out to slip it back in, but his grip tightens around your waist, flipping you on your stomach.
“greedy today,” toji slaps your ass, watching it ripple against his big palm as he kneads the flesh, pulling your hips back as he grabs his cock. “tight fucking cunt—“ his grip tightens as he pulls your hips back to meet his. you bury your mouth into the pillow to conceal the scream-like moan. “fuck, ungh, dirty fucking girl, beggin’ f’r me,” his lips curl as you reach behind you. immediately understanding his pretty wife as he drops his hand over yours. you squeeze his fingers as he leans his face.
“kiss me,” you’re looking back with tears in your eyes, and he almost busts a bit too soon. he’ll never understand people who fall out of love, because he could never imagine not wanting you. touching you. kissing you—
“my pretty puppy,” he lifts your body up, arm wrapping around your torso as your head falls back to meet his wet lips. his abs clench as he feels your pussy squeeze him. your tongue hanging out, a tell tale sign of how close you’re getting.
“ah, t-ji…ah ha…cumin’” fuck, you still get so dumb on his dick. your stutters and empty head driving him to his peak. his hand slides down your torso to rub your puffy clit, so close to—
KNOCK knock KNOCK knock—
you gasp startled as you and toji fall forward, he holds a hand to your mouth as you unconsciously let out a whine. “fucking brat,” toji grunts as he pulls out.
“mommy?” megumi jiggles the door handle. “mommy—“
“yes baby?” you call out, voice hoarse and head foggy as toji kisses your cheeks, gently rubbing across your torso getting you back to your senses. you push forward, only for toji to grab you pulling you back to his chest.
“tell him to go back to sleep,” his hand falls between your legs, making your hips buck— you to pull away.
“he gets nightmares,” you grab a towel, cleaning yourself quickly before slipping on shorts and one of your husband’s shirts.
“he’s doing this on purpose,” toji aggressively grabs the sheets covering the not so PG rated scene. his dick was throbbing painfully. he’s never been fond of edging.
“he doesn’t know anything,” you scold him, not before rushing over to him, kissing his lips. his hum makes you smile as he rubs the back of your neck, his grip tightening only for you to pull away with a guilty smile. he sighs dropping his head back watching you open the door to find megumi with a hand over his eye, yawning.
“why aren’t you sleeping?” toji leans on his arm, watching you coddle the boy.
megumi pouts at his fathers comment. “b-because….”
you stand up with megumi in your arms as you walk back to his room. your hand brushing his hair.
toji falls back on the bed. eyes piercing the ceiling.
“he’s in one of his moods again…” gojo, toji’s sparring partner, mumbles to shiu.
“what happened?” shiu looks at gojo icing a cut on his lip while toji tightens his gloves with his teeth, pounding them together.
“let’s go!” his roar startled the other trainers on his team.
it wasn’t uncommon for toji to be in his “moods”. I mean it used to be a very common thing a couple years ago. however, no one will say it to his face, but he’s definitely gotten much softer and calmer after marrying you. he’s thrown some fits when megumi was a couple months old, but he’s been calm since then.
“toji!”
your voice suddenly had the fighters eyes brightening. holding your hand tight was megumi. his eyes wandering around the punching bags. he’s been to the gym before, but only with you.
toji used to bring megumi frequently when he was a baby, but after he started registering things, you didn’t want him around all that fighting, afraid it’ll rub off on him—
“megumi!” gojo rushes over, the entire gym flipping over at your son’s appearance. the spitting image of their grumpy idol, but a cuter more innocent version. gojo having a very annoying way of pampering the boy.
“how’s it going?” you ask toji, climbing into the ring as gojo watches (bothers) megumi, along with shiu.
toji meets your lips. “good.”
you lean back, fingers brushing the scar on his lip, noticing the distance in eyes. that’s when you notice he’s looking at a certain little boy. “toji?”
“he’s got it out for me,” he whispers to you, megumi was looking at toji curiously. you hit the man’s shoulder with the back of your hand.
“he’s a kid, he doesn’t know anything. and about last night—“
“don’t bring it up,” he drops his head on your shoulder, sighing as your fingers brush his nape, gently scratching it just the way he likes. “fuck, you felt so good.” he groans, “definitely would’ve knocked you up with the load i was gunna give ya.” your ears sting at his vulgar confession. “left me in the dust.”
“not my fault,” you murmur, surprised your voice was leveled.
“i know,” his big arms, are wrapped around your waist and shoulders completely. hugging you close as his glare settles on the urchin haired kid.
meanwhile, shiu, gojo, and the others are huddled around megumi talking about none other than.
“my dad is not cool,” megumi rolls his eyes, arms crossed as gojo is kneeling in front of him, ice pack on his lip.
“he most definitely is, the guy is superhuman! he moves so quick!” one of the other fighters gush, other agreeing. they all talk about toji as if he’s some super celebrity, like the way his friends also talk about him. megumi isn’t an idiot, he knows toji is a famous fighter, but that doesn’t mean he knows how good.
the more his father’s team praises his dad, the more megumi’s curiosity peaks.
you look over to smile at megumi, who obviously is growing very annoyed at gojo, shiu and the other team who are now coddling him. after wiggling his way out, he makes his way over to you, only for toji to be the one to left him up. megumi frowns, leaning his arm on his father’s shoulder propping his big cheek on his hand with a pout.
“you hungry?” you joke at his expression.
megumi looks away from you, odd, over to toji, who’s laughing at the boys reaction. “can I go to your match tomorrow?”
huh?
you and toji immediately exchange looks.
“you wanna see your old man fight?” toji’s lips curl up into a teasing smile.
megumi nods, “ya.”
you bite your cheek, contemplating. he was older now, albeit still a kid. your eyes shift to toji unsure.
“if the kids wants to go, then…” toji definitely was not the man he used to be. you could read him like a fucking book. as much as he was complaining, and mumbling how pent up he’s been these past weeks because of “the brat”, he most certainly cannot hide the simple truth that he wants megumi to see his match.
“then i guess we’ll have to go to sleep early tonight,” you smile, noticing megumi’s small smile, not too obvious.
megumi stayed close beside you. shifting from holding him in your arms, to letting him walk beside you. his cute ears were covered with headphones because of how loud the stadium is. along with some guards to watch over you both.
toji was warming up when you both walked into the lockerroom. your hand stayed in megumi, not letting him go over to his dad, knowing not to disturb his mindset right now.
megumi tugged on your hand, ushering you to his level so he can whisper in your ear. “why is daddy angry?” however, because of the headphones, his whisper, was more of a shout.
you stifled a laugh, especially when everyone in the room, including toji, heard.
“gumi!”
the boy jumped at the booming voice. looking over at his father waving a hand to come over. megumi cocked his head up at you, but ultimately let go and made his way over. toji grunts as he lifts him up, sitting him on his lap.
“getting heavier kid,” he smiles when megumi looks away trying to hide his own smile. “don’t cry when i prove to ya how strong i am.”
you roll your eyes at toji, as does megumi who crosses his arms as well. either way toji ruffles the kid’s unkept hair before standing up. megumi’s eyes gaze up, noting how tall and big his father is. and he remembers what his friend yuuji said to him in class today.
your dad looks like he’s the strongest person ever! my dad always watches his fights and he also says your dad is crazzzy strong! I’m training to be super strong too! I’ll be the next best fighter ever!! megumi also recalls the way yuuji was flexing his nonexistent bicep muscles, slapping them with the other hand as if their huge.
you come up, holding megumi’s shoulders as your eyes meet toji’s dark ones. his fingers tilt your chin up, megumi staring up from the middle as his father leans closer, lips brushing your ear.
“I’ll earn my reward tonight.”
your cheeks sting as he comes back, pecking your lips, before his hand falls over megumi’s head, ruffling his hair even more, distracting the kid from toji deepening the kiss for a moment, satisfied enough to pull away , teeth pulling at your bottom lip. he tilts your chin up again, lips curled up at the lustful eyes you give him. thumb tapping your bottom lip.
toji averts his attention back to his son. “wish me luck.”
megumi is silent as he watches toji’s teams crowd him as they lead him out to the stadium. shiu stays back with you and megumi and has you both escorted to your seats. gumi’s small hand grips yours tightly as you watch the stadium cheering and clapping.
you like taking pride in being megumi’s favorite, especially when toji’s trying to win an argument and you ask megumi who’s right and he’ll always point to you, not even bothering to look up from the tv screen.
nonetheless, you can’t help but smile when you notice megumi’s eyes light up when the stadium lights start to dim and dark blue flashes start to flicker. your heart is definitely very warm because you know how toji’s entrance usually is accompanied by red lights, but i guess when he asked you this morning if megumi’s favorite color was still blue, this is what he meant.
megumi was standing on his seat, next to you, arm around your shoulders as you kept and arm around him for stability, letting him get a better view as his father stepped into the stadium. loud music ensuing as the crowd got riled up.
your heart was beating fast, cheeks slowly crawling with heat as you watched your husband. he always looked like someone straight out of a movie. but then he’d casually glance over. his deep green eyes meeting yours and looking at megumi. the little boy felt chills at his father’s gaze. he’s never understood what people meant when they called his dad cool, but maybe that’s what it’s like. seeing the entire stadium cheering for him even before the match has started. how the crowd is split between his fans and his opponents fans.
“how good is daddy?” megumi leaned down to you. your hand holding his tummy, so he doesn’t fall forward.
“he’s very good!” you could tell megumi was scared, especially when his opponent was some guy with crazy pink hair and vicious tattoos that littered his entire body. even his dad didn’t have face tattoos!
was he scared that maybe his dad wasn’t that cool? maybe he really was just the dad that drops him off at school, and teases him all day….megumi felt his heart beating faster when his opponent threw a vicious first punch, immediately putting distance so he can throw a powerful kick straight into toji’s ribs.
you could feel megumi’s hand tighten around your shirt, his other hand balled into a fist as he watched toji take a direct punch to the face.
toji had been preparing for this fight for weeks. someone challenging his title always had a big publicity boost. and sukuna was not just any old player.
so when toji was placed into a headlock, you almost felt your stomach coil, and megumi bit his lip. his eyes welling up as he inhaled sharply….
“DAD! i said good luck!” megumi’s loud scream only seemed to echo even louder since your seats were near the cage.
toji couldn’t help his shit-eating grin, blood coating his chin. first time he’s heard the kid that loudly, he shouldn’t disappoint.
megumi felt his hair fly up when his dad gave him a wink, and like a switch happened, he immediately turned the tables on his opponent. you hadn’t seen megumi so worked up…ever. he was jumping on his seat cheering, as you stood up. toji held his opponent to the mat, after a couple seconds sukuna finally submitted.
the crowd was on it’s feet, creating echos of noise as they cheered for their victor! megumi was clapping as he looked at you.
“dad was so cool!!! he was moving so fast!” he was definitely worked up, his little cheeks flushed and eyes bright.
“well I’m not someone that likes to brag,” toji appeared before you as megumi immediately jumped up. catching the both of you so off-guard. he only did that to you, but toji took it. lifting the kid in his arms as megumi gushed to him. i guess he did have some of your traits, the way he babbled on and on, and made crazy gestures with his hands.
the cameras had a field day as megumi sat on toji’s shoulders as he answered a couple questions.
by the time you arrived home, megumi was completely knocked out.
toji carries him to his room. you’re in the kitchen when he comes back, you made a protein shake for him, after exerting so much energy.
“he was screaming the entire time,” you hand him the cup, watching as he chugs it. “never thought I’d see him so loud.”
“had to make him like me somehow. he never leaves you alone,” toji saunters over to you, his hands trapping you against the counter, leaning down. “needed mommy to give me a reward, didn’t i?”
you scoff, “don’t act like you didn’t want his approval.” toji doesn’t respond. “the blue lights?”
“sukuna’s entrance also had red, so i needed to stand out,” he gaslights, making you laugh.
“you’re such a softie you know that?” the little jabs you give him never gets old, especially when it’s about your kid.
“if i say yes, can i finally cum in ya?” he licks your lips, smiling at the flustered daze in your eyes. “had to cum on myself for weeks,” he groans, remembering how he’d finish himself off every single time.
“ ‘s not my fault,” you sigh as he kisses down your neck, his own hand falling between your bodies.
his voice vibrates against your skin, as he picks you up, placing you on the counter. “you baby him.”
“I do not!” you do.
he pulls away, a deadpan expression so clear he doesn’t even have to say it. you bite your cheek, looking at the kitchen wall. but toji returns to your lips nibbling at the skin as his hand pushed up the pretty top you wore for his match.
“mmm, toji?” your lips pull away, he hums tongue licking at the cut on his lip. he’s definitely gotten used to kissing you after matches, the stinging now adding to his own pleasure. he waits patiently for you to keep going. your hands gently holding his face as you look over the deep bruise on his cheekbone. “I’m sorry about last night, and the nights before.”
his green eyes settle, gently. hands coming up to pull your shirt over, arm snaking back to unclasp your pretty bra, his hand situated under your jaw as he tilts your head up. “now why’re you apologizing?”
“well because……i feel bad,” you murmur, embarrassed that this man can still make you blush like an idiot. exposing you so openly to his eyes. your nipples perking up from the cool breeze.
“don’t,” his thumb slides up to your bottom lip, massaging your adorable pout away.
“you were literally complaining about it,” you roll your eyes, unconsciously arching up when he lifts your chin higher.
“when did you start taking my jokes so seriously? is my princess forgetting who I am?”
“yes she is,” you cock your head. “I think she needs a reminder.”
his lips curl up along with a brow. “fucking tease.” he captures your lips, tongue wet as he licks your lips, smiling once you part them to allow the kiss to go deeper. his grip behind your neck warming your skin. “missed you so much,” he groans, feeling your hand rub over his sweats.
“I know,” you bite his lip, making him wince at the pain, the stinging of the cut sending blood rushing south. you knew him too well. “I’m all yours,” your palm rubs a little harder around his tip, making his hips jolt. “daddy deserves attention.”
the stupid nickname was something you only used to address him around megumi, but hearing the name right now, suddenly sent a different feeling coursing through his head. “fuck.” he grabs your hand, rocking his hips against your palm as he leans down, kissing and biting at your tits.
“you like that?” you taunt, “daddy wants his reward,” you coo, petting his hair as he kisses your nipples, sucking one into his mouth, he’s so rough. his bite making you yelp. “want something for being such a good boy—wha!—“
you were suddenly on the ground, heart beating fast because toji had moved in the blink of an eye. you hate how fast he is sometimes, especially when he scares you like that.
“getting all cocky after edging me for weeks?” his pants were pushed down, along with his shorts and boxers. allowing you to be face to face with the familiar length. a blush immediately spreading across your cheeks at how worked up he is.
“barely touched you,” you kiss his tip, not without your shit-eating grin making his abs clench. why are you so fucking hot?
“open up,” he grabs his base, slapping his heavy dick on your cheeks, something he only did when you were…well acting like this. you can’t stop now, your smile spreading even more when you give him a look.
“you haveta say please.”
“what happened to reward?” his jaw clenched, tip oozing only for you to press a thumb across his slit licking the bitter taste. “fuckkk, please—now open up-ah fuck!” toji grabs your head as you lather his cock with your spit. “fuck.” kissing his base, just to get him even more worked up, knowing how much he loves seeing how big his dick is laying across your face.
“my wife’s so slutty,” he sighs, brushing your forehead where his tip oozes a little on your face. you come back to his tip, grabbing his base as you take him into your mouth. “good girl.”
your stomach is full of butterflies. you love giving toji head, he always looked so hot from this position, especially post-match, his bruises still prominent and he was more needy. letting you baby him and give him head first.
a few tears slipped down your cheeks as toji held your head, cooing everytime you hum around him. “look at me, mommy,” he grunts, balls swinging as you curl your hands around them, playing with his sack making his hips jerk. “shit,” you edge him closer, his heart beating quicker as you gaze up with your big tear filled eyes. the love of his life, the mother of his child, the most beautiful girl in the world—
“fhuckk,” his grip is tight on your head as the knot in his stomach snaps, blowing his load into your mouth. you pull away to catch your breath for a second, but he’s still cumming, ruining your face. you open your mouth again and milk his cock for more. “atta girl, fuck just like that….swallow all of it,” he sighs, brushing your hair as you swallow so much of him. unbothered as it falls on your tits, your free hand collecting the mess and spreading it on his happy trail making him shudder. dirty girl.
your breathing heavily as he bends down, capturing your lips, smiling even bigger because your mouth is empty, having swallowed every single drop.
“miss my cum?” he pulls away.
you nod, throwing your arms around his neck, hugging him close so he was just inches from your face. “that’s not all, right? baby boy wants to cum inside me?”
“fuck,” he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. “you like talking, huh? being a dirty fucking slut?“
“i know you like it,” you make the man laugh, a blush coating his cheeks. you always surprise him. “wait the clothes,” you shuffle away, trying to grab the clothes before you head upstairs, but toji keeps a tight grip. slapping your ass.
“i got it, stay still,” he bends down to grab his pants and your things. he starts making his way upstairs, your tongue kissing and licking his face. the door quietly closing behind him, as you continue falling deeper and deeper into your head.
“mommy all horny now?” he coos, laying you on the bed as you buck your hips up.
“take care of me,” you whine. there’s his wife, so whiney and bratty. his lips meet yours, teasing you with his knee, watching you buck your hips against it.
“thought this was daddy’s reward, not mommy’s?” he pulls away, making your mouth open, they were all wet and puffy from how much you’ve been kissing.
“you like it when i cum,” you hold his face, using the biggest doe eyes that always have him twitching, your pretty tits squeezed together as you brush his raven hair back. “wanna cum for daddy….uh I’m so wet.” fuck, since when does role-play work so well on him?!
“fer daddy, aye?” he pulls your pants down, easily maneuvering your legs up so he can pull them off, your little thong soaked completely through. “you came already?”
your finger plays with your bottom lip, a tell-tale sign of your guilt.
“missed tasting you,” you lean up, wrapping your arms around the man, arching into him as you kiss his cheek. “you came so much….want you to cum inside me now,” your hand held his, pressing it between your legs making him groan at the slick that slips down his fingers easily. “want you inside me, daddy.”
his cheeks were stinging so unbelievably turned on by you. “ y’r fuckin’ killing’ me,” he groans as you slide your adorable panties to the side, head dropping against his as you watch his fingers sink inside you, more slick oozing down as you rub your hands up his neck. his deep green eyes half-lidded as he watches your face twist in pleasure. “look at me.”
his heart skipped a beat at your pretty lashes fluttering up to meet his. “gun….cum,” you pant, jaw dropping as toji holds your waist up, already feeling your body shake as he quickens his fingers inside you, feeling you squeeze around him.
“there ya go,” he praises, rubbing your clit in vicious circles, until you’re falling over. “shh baby, inside voices,” he coos, grunting once he feels your face press into his shoulder, cumming around him with a muffled cry. soaking his hand.
you barely have time to catch your breath, as he lays you down across the bed, tossing the drenched panties aside. his face between your legs making you cry out.
“what’d i say?” toji snaps, pulling away.
“I’m sorry,” you hold a hand to your mouth, put toji notices the way you clench around nothing. so he rubs his fingers through your sticky folds, and decides to do something he hasn’t done in awhile. pinch your clit.
you couldn’t stop the cry for escaping this time. tears filling your eyes as the man’s face sinks.
“not gun’a listen now?” his body flips you over. “show ‘me y’r pussy,” he demands. tongue peaking out to touch his scar.
“it’s embarrassing, toji,” you blush, breaking the little roleplay, because you really didn’t mean to moan that loudly. it’s been a few years now of toji training you to only get loud when he’s got his lips around yours. but you were acting like his little slut again—
slap!
your body jolts, pussy stinging at the slap he just gave you.
“embarrassed to show daddy your hole?” he rubs your pussy, his mannerisms so clearly inviting that you can’t help but sink your body lower, arching your back further and spreading your legs even more. “there we go, mommy’s so good,” he praises, making you whine.
“fuck me now,” you wiggle your hips, smiling when you feel his bruised knuckles brush your sopping pussy, playing with your clit.
“ya gonna stay quiet?” he leans over, kissing your lower back, his face lowering to lap at your pussy. you whine, rolling your hips as toji sucks your slick into his mouth. “ah fuck, need ya,” he suddenly looms behind you, pumping his dick aggressively.
you’re eyes are looking back, complete drool escaping your lips once his big hands splay over your back, lining his tip to your pulsing hole.
his tip pushes past your slick, you were so ready for him to thrust his full length into you, but this slow sinking in was much more mind numbing. your eyes slowly roll back as he fully bottoms out.
“take me so well,” he groans, leaning over to kiss your shoulder over and over, fingers lacing around yours as he slowly pulls his hips back and going back in.
“toji,” you turn, lips falling open as he groans. his dick was fucking melting at how good you are. the slow pace was tantalizing.
“baby?” his fingers curl around your face, leaning down so his lips are close to your ear. his voice was deep and filled with heavy pants, “gunna fuck you like ya want, so don’t wake up gumi, kay?”
you nod quickly. “kay.”
your eyes completely cross and toji was so unbelievably ready to fuck your brains out. all his pent up sexual frustration and his longing for you was so strong and overwhelming. he was fucking you so roughly, not just piercing your deepest spot, but sliding through your walls as his head went back.
his hand closed over your mouth as you came around him. a babbling mess when he pulled away and turned you over on yer back.
“toji,” your mind was foggy as you reached out for him, legs pressed to your head as he gave you a toothy grin.
“what happened to daddy?” he slipped his tip back in, holding your sweaty thighs down as he pulled back and slammed into you. the position always making him reach the deepest parts of you. he pressed into your tummy as he kissed your cervix too many times.
“da—ddy,” your lips fell open, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he leaned down, lips melting into yours. you sucked on his tongue, as his spit collected in your mouth, always his little puppy. his chest pushed you into a deeper mating press.
“mommy likes daddy’s dick that much?” he grunts feeling you clench around him, it was getting easier to make you cum tonight. he felt a bad for making it seem like he was the only one that missed you, when it was so obvious tonight how much you also missed him.
he picks up the speed. his heavy balls slapping your ass making the room echo of fwap-fwap and your beautiful cries. “tell daddy how much ya want it, fuck cmon,” your eyes were filled with bubble tears.
“want it so much….want daddy’s cum! want my tummy full— ah ah toji!” your eyes slowly cross as he watches you get closer and closer, nails digging down his biceps.
“gunna fuck make mommy have another b-ungh baby.” the role play was getting into his head, reminding him of how fucking beautiful his wife is, solidifying the image that yes, he’ll fuck her until the day he dies and give her as many fucking babies as she wants.
the moment your eyes crossed, his hand fell over your mouth, completely loosing all sense as you came, crying into his hand pushing toji immediately too. his dick was pulsing, dumping ropes and ropes and ropes of his cum. head falling to your shoulder as he fucked your pussy through his high.
his body was on autopilot, lazy thrusts following his desires. he couldn’t stop cumming, the squelch and oozing that slipped out only had more spurts shooting out of his tip. completely coating your insides in white warmth. “to..ji,” your soft call had him sliding your legs down to his waist, lifting his head so gently, his own head going dizzy just by your expression and the amount he’s spilled inside you. you were the most beautiful, precious soul in the world.
“love ya, baby,” he whispers, kissing you. you sigh, combing his hair as he gives a full body shudder, staying still for longer than usual before pulling out. he takes a moment to peck your lips before huddling over to the bathroom, cleaning himself off and returning to wipe you down.
tossing the towel aside, making you huff, he falls beside you. you roll over brushing his hair, as your eyes grow heavy. his hand coming up to caress your adorable cheeks. he guesses he really did a number on his pretty wife. smiling to himself for the victory.
knock. knock. knock!
your heart jumps into your throat. “why is he awake?” you whisper yell, toji rubs the bridge of his nose, only to wince remembering the bruise there.
“as if you weren’t screaming yer head off,” he deadpans. your cheeks flare, annoyed at yourself, but then again—
“well—“
knock, knock knock!
you wince when you try to sit up. fuck, toji didn’t hold back at all. his brow quirks, only to grin mischievously—
“dick, go answer the door!” you shove him back, still struggling to sit up when toji cackles, grabbing a pair of clean pajama pants and tshirt (to hide the new scratches) heading to the door. you’re able to sit up and toss on a shirt once he opens the door.
“what’s up?” toji looks down at the kid, his little head tilted up as he rubs his eye, stuffed animal in his arm. megumi is silent.
your brows pinch, noticing megumi holding onto toji’s pant leg. the fighter, places a hand on the boy, before kneeling down, his thumb brushing the kid’s bangs from his forehead.
“still having those nightmares?” megumi nods.
“sum monster was screaming,” he explains. you hold your breath, cheek flaring.
“ahh ya those monsters are real loud sometimes,” toji has to do everything in his power not to laugh because he can already feel the embarrassment and anger coming from you. “but they’re not real, so it’s all good.” he pats the kids head. but that doesn’t help.
“can you sleep with me?” megumi is looking at the ground when he asks.
“mommy isn’t feeling—“
“not mommy…you.” the simple, quiet muttered words do a little too much for toji. his eyes so wide and his lips falling open. megumi looks back at his dad after the silence gets too long. “what—“
“nothing!” toji grabs the kid, lifting him up. megumi automatically sinks into his father’s arm resting his head on his shoulder, unconsciously feeling very safe. his dad is a superhuman after all.
toji doesn’t hold back when he looks over his shoulder at you and sticks his tongue out.
once the two disappear down the hall, you’re left alone. stuck to the bed. head hitting the pillow as you gaze up at the ceiling.
so this is what toji felt like.
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𝜗𝜚 Since fucking Gojo, you’ve momentarily forgotten about the mysterious other surfer next to him. You’re far too preoccupied with your camera and the chilly popsicle in your mouth, obviously! Unfortunately, Suguru Geto seems slightly too fascinated with your mouth too. At least your throat is already numbed?
“Try... angling it differently.” Nobara’s voice crackles over the phone balanced against your ear, the sound cutting through the soft noise of the waves on the beach in front of you.
“I’m trying!” You groan, “seriously, I’m not leaving until I have this.”
The coast looks tantalisingly gorgeous tonight, with the sun being lulled down behind the glimmering froth of sea foam; the sand is soft, people’s footsteps littered across the pale grains. But you aren’t on the beach this time, you’re desperately trying to take a picture of the view with Nobara instructing you.
“Move to the side.” She suggests, “maybe cover it with your hand?”
“It’s not working!” You groan, “the sun keeps shining into the lens and there’s an annoying seagull that keeps flying into the shot.” The bird squawks in the distance mockingly and your eyes narrow in annoyance.
She sighs. “I don’t wanna ditch you, but there’s a pint of ice cream waiting for me- wanna come over and share? I have spoons.”
“I will soon, but lemme take this photo, okay?” You protest, camera whirring as it spits out another failed shot. “I might be a while, but I’ve got a popsicle to tide me over, at least.” You side eye it as it rests beside you, ice crystallised onto crinkly plastic. It’s not quite ice cream, but it’ll have to do for now.
“Okayyy… but if it’s all gone when you get here, don’t get all mad.”
You giggle as you tap the ‘end call’ button. “Byeeee.”
Your fingertips are cold in contrast to the warm air as you wrap them around the treat, cheap wooden stick light in your hands while you absentmindedly suck. It’s supposed to be strawberry, you think, but it’s so freezer-burnt from the nearby store it tastes more like vaguely sweet ice and the inside of a fridge.
The camera sits heavy in your palms, the rounded corners of the plastic casing smooth on your skin as you raise the camera and adjust the angle. The popsicle is held inside your mouth, sticking numbingly to your tastebuds.
You’re going to fill this scrapbook if it kills you, you scold yourself internally, thinking about the ways you can use up the failed attempts as background filler while you ready yourself to try again.
You’ve already assembled a page at home, pens scattered across your bedspread while you work on dating the caption; it’s all blue sea and white sand (and whiter hair, if you count the tufts poking into the frame) but you wanted something a little calmer.
You hear footsteps- nothing out of the ordinary, you are sat near a public beach after all- but they stop by you and you sit up properly, swivelling around to stare at the source.
“Hey.” There’s a man stood beside you, eyes flitting just slightly over the way your lips part around the ice before they come to rest on your face. He’s gorgeous, you’ll give him that- long reams of black hair, spilling like watery ink across his sunlit and tanned shoulders.
“Uh, hey.” You respond blankly, words muffled as you withdraw the popsicle, “do I know you?”
“Not… particularly. I’m Suguru Geto, by the way.” He announces, propping the purple surfboard up against the bench you’re sat on. Purple… you recognise it, the way it glinted in the sunlight next to a certain blue-eyed man’s body as they chatted on the sand. Fuck! “But I could hear you complaining from the beach.”
“Oh, sorry-“ you cringe, cursing Nobara’s lack of volume control, and your own inability to stay quiet, “I’ll go, if you’re trying to relax-“
“There’s nothing wrong with being a little loud. And you definitely are.” Geto’s voice is quiet, as calm as the waves lapping gently at the horizon, but an element of deeper innuendo rests in the lower part of his tone.
Your face warms. So he did hear you and Gojo, then; and now he’s stood in front of you, arms folded across the damp plane of his chest and staring through dark irises as you slowly flatten your tongue across the popsicle. It doesn’t really cross your mind if you look deliberately slutty or not, too focused on eating.
Unfortunately- or fortunately- Geto definitely notices. The way liquid pools on your pouted lips, sparkling in the sunset, and the way you eagerly swallow- it has his mind drifting in ways he isn’t particularly opposed to.
“You, um- you heard… us?” You say nervously.
“I did.” He smiles serenely, bicep tensing as he raises a hand to tuck a lock of sleek hair behind his pierced ear. The sun glints off his other piercings, one studded near his eyebrow, two silver hoops linked across the pinkness of his soft lips.
You briefly wonder if he has any that you can’t see.
“Satoru isn’t quiet either, though.” Geto continues casually, “so I suppose the fault isn’t entirely yours- but do you always squeak like that?”
You gasp around the icy sweet in your mouth, eyes widening. “You-“
He puffs out a laugh, his face drawing in closer to yours- close enough for your breath to mingle, for the piercings on his lips to brush against yours if you leaned in a little.
The popsicle in your mouth melts a little more, artificially flavoured water tracking down from your lips onto the thumb he presses the drops away with. Slowly, without looking away from your flustered face, Geto raises the digit to his mouth and sucks.
“I could think of a few ways to keep you quiet.”
That’s exactly what he does, your knees pressing into cushiony sand and your hands braced against his thighs; Geto’s hand fists in your hair, tight on the back of your head as you gawk up at him.
A shadow stretches across your face- the length is intimidating, sure, but that’s not why you’re gaping. A fraction of your shock may stem from it, from the veins dragging across his dick, from the pearly sheen of pre coating the shimmery tip- but it’s what else you see that shocks you.
“Never seen one before?” Geto asks, tilting his head cockily. You both know he isn’t just talking about his dick, but the tiny metal orb nestled right at the tip and gleaming in the slowly dipping sunset.
You gaze, transfixed, hand wrapping around his base and relishing in the way his head clunks against the secluded rock with a groan- it’s awfully familiar, and you grin as you start to move your fist.
“Do you and Satoru take all your hookups here, or just each other?”
He laughs breathily, guiding your spit-slicked lips to his tip by the fingers fisted roughly in your hair. “Just the hookups. It’s convenient, what can I say?”
Fascinated by the piercing, you only apply a little kiss to his tip before pulling back and gazing at his length. Just like the rest of him, it’s unfairly pretty for a man- rosy tip dribbling pre down to his base, the redness at the top blending seamlessly into a darker shade of tan.
Your hand slicks up easily, thumbing curiously over the silver orb. You expected it to be sensitive, but Geto throws his head back and moans like he’s about to cum already.
“Fuck,” he groans, hips jerking up into your closed fist with little squelching noises. You smile coquettishly up at him and only work your hand faster.
A generous slather of pre sheens on your fingers as you pump slowly, using your tongue every so often to keep the piercing as shiny as possible. Geto thinks he’s about to lose his mind, or at least have the corners unravel a little; every time he thinks you’re about to put him in your mouth, you stop just shy and begin the ritual again.
“Don’t be a tease.” He grits out. You stay quiet, enjoying having him wrapped around your finger like this. And then there’s tears springing to your eyes as he digs his fingers into your hair tighter, tugging at the roots just enough to get you to gasp.
“I told you not to tease, sweetheart.” He says lowly, hand still gripping your hair. “Now, listen to me.”
You hum, nod obediently, and seal your mouth around him, tongue kitten-licking at the tip as salt smears across your tastebuds. “Good girl.” Geto moans low in his throat when you take him deeper, throat constricting around the length while the texture of your tongue patters lightly at the flesh.
You drag the muscle up and down, lavishing attention onto the prominent vein studding the underside of his considerably thick cock. You gag just a little as he breaches your throat, spit pearling at the corners of your mouth, and it only makes Geto harder.
“You’re- shit- gorgeous like this-“ he sucks in through his teeth, cock bucking into your warm mouth and seeking purchase right at the back. Tears bead in the corners of your eyes as Geto fucks your face, streaming messily, but it makes you wonder how he’d feel doing the same inside you.
“You know-“ he groans, scraping your messy hair back further to reveal your eyes, “when me and Satoru were in the sea, we both wanted to fuck you." You cock a curious brow. "No, not at the same time, he’d be far too selfish.” He laughs breathlessly, pushing your mouth down further.
“I was jealous, I’ll admit-“ Geto pants, “but he didn’t see you like this, did he?”
You fervently shake your head as well as you can. “That’s what I thought.”
The piercing lightly scrapes the roof of your mouth every time you pull back, the small orb digging into your tongue in a way that isn’t entirely unpleasant. In fact, it’s almost satisfying, feeling the ball warm under your spit.
You don’t even realise you’ve slipped a greedy hand from his thigh into your panties until he comments, voice low and thick with arousal. “That feel good?”
“Mmm.” You agree, lashes fluttering while your fingers greedily circle your clit; you try to nod, since you can’t verbalise anything- but the action only sends more light vibrations along Geto’s cock, and his fingers tangle harsher in your hair.
You almost can’t believe you’re getting off on being face-fucked, but then again, how could you not when he looks like that?
Hair curtaining his face in loose strands as they slip unbidden from their tie behind his head, Geto’s lip caught between his teeth as his struggles not to moan too loudly. His cheeks are warmed, flushed with the blatant evidence of his arousal.
“If I was wearing- hah- my rings…” he groans suddenly, snapping you out of your reverie as both hands get used as leverage to tug your skull forwards and backwards as he likes, “I could use my fingers on you properly, not just grab your pretty head.”
“Yeah?” You ask, muffled and teary around his cock.
“Yeah. I could wear the chunky ones too, wouldn’t you like that?” The gritted tone he’s been fashioning wraps around the dirty little question. “They’d be cold, sure- fuckkkk, do that again, baby- but you’d get them warmed up, wouldn’t you?”
You nod vehemently, mascara tracking down your flushed cheeks, fingers still buried knuckle deep inside your weeping cunt. You’re almost shocked at how close you are, sopping all over your hand just at the feeling of being face-fucked.
Geto notices, eyes glimmering and quirking up into a breathless little smirk that doesn’t seem too promising for your throat. “Fuck, you’re gonna cum? From this?”
“Mmfh-“ you moan, hips rocking down onto the heel of your awaiting palm as your orgasm splits freshly open inside you, starry pops of energy bubbling up in your body as you twitch through it.
Geto finishes with a low, cracked moan, pressing your throat down so far your nose brushes his happy trail and you gag. When he harshly yanks you back, there’s an obvious sticky trail of saliva-coated slick dribbling from your mouth.
You cough and the strings snap, disconnecting your abused mouth from his cock while you struggle to wipe your lips with the shaky back of your hand.
“Gorgeous.” He breathes again, tucking himself away before helping you to your wobbly feet on the grainy sand below with a slight hint of a smirk on his face. “I hope it didn’t hurt too much.”
“No-“ you rasp, throat sore, “but I can’t speak properly.”
“It’s a shame, you have a pretty voice.” He replies, smirking a little behind his hair when you blush. He holds the hairtie in between his teeth to knot his hair back properly, and the little action makes you feel just a few degrees warmer.
You cough again, throat just a little bruised, and he tilts his head. “Sorry.”
Geto’s clearly not sorry at all as he walks with you to the bench from earlier. “See you around?”
“Yeah, maybe…” you muse, fiddling with your camera. The horizon has darkened now, glorious strips of pink and orange melting into darker tones of navy in preparation for the stars to make their appearance.
You wave him goodbye, noting the newfound spring in his step with a laugh. “Now…”
The picture is almost perfect, capturing the way the sea sparkles prettily beneath the diminishing glow of the sun. There’s a proud smile playing on your face as you waft it around and wait for it to come into total focus, beaming at the final result while you dial in Nobara’s number.
“Hey! Is there still ice cream?”
“Your voice sounds awful, maybe you need something cold more than I do.” She deadpans, “what did you do?”
A grin spreads across your lips. “I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell the others, okay?”
“Deal.”
series masterlist | check out the photo album! | regular masterlist
a/n: thank you for reading :p!! comments/reblogs are super appreciated <33
𝜗𝜚 You’re still incredibly embarrassed about Toji Fushiguro seeing you leave his son’s bedroom. The sweater in your tote is supposed to be returned directly to the person who lent it to you, but the universe has different ideas, trapping you in a kitchen filled with awkward silence and a pair of scarred lips that would look just so pretty between your thighs…
content: smut, mentions of male masturbation, age gap, thigh riding, squirting, oral (f. receiving), fingering, brief aftercare
wc: 2.2k
series masterlist
part four | part five | part six (coming friday <3)
The summer shower from the night before puddles along the concrete as you trudge towards the Fushiguro house. Megumi’s sweater, freshly washed and scented like the fabric softener you added to be nice- he did let you borrow it a few days ago, after all- sits in a cosy bundle in your tote.
The fabric brushes against the other contents of your bag- namely, two lipglosses, a tube of SPF, and a pair of sunglasses you don’t really need. It isn’t too bright, after all, clouds still dotting the horizon after last night’s storm. At least it cuts through the humidity, you suppose begrudgingly.
Your knuckles rap the door just a few times before it swings open- and instead of the spiky haired, quiet Megumi you were expecting, you get somebody entirely different.
“Oh. Hey, Mr Fushiguro.” You say, surprise clouded over by the lingering embarrassment from the last time you spoke to him- hungover and barely clothed in his hallway.
“Hi.” He says, leaning against the entryway. There’s a smirk playing across his scarred lips, and you wonder briefly if he’s thinking about the last time he saw you.
He is. Toji spent the last few days thinking about it, hand pressed callously to his cock in the shower as he imagined how your soft palms would feel instead. He can’t stop thinking about the way you’d looked up at him, doe-eyed and slightly mortified as you bolted out of his house.
He still can’t stop thinking about the way your thighs looked pressed together under your skirt, like you were trying to hide the bare skin from him. As if you could- not when he’s so perceptive to anything concerning his son’s pretty friend.
Not when Toji secretly inhales just a little deeper as he walks past you to open the door for Yuji, the smell of your perfume lingering on his mind long after you leave to go home. Not when he’s seen you and Nobara giggling in the kitchen over pre-drinks, your soft cleavage ostentatious in your top as you hand your best friend her bag.
Although, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t ogle him back- gazing a little over the rim of your sunglasses as you lounge on Megumi’s back lawn, grass tickling your legs as you stare at Toji’s arms while he weeds the flowerbeds.
Now, Toji looks dangerously good; faded grey sweats hung just low enough on his hips to expose a scratchy happy trail, shirt compressed to his body. “Megumi’s out.”
Yeah, no shit. “I’ll, uh… can I just give you this-?“
“Come in.” He says, already turning to walk int the kitchen. You panic briefly, but refusal doesn’t seem like an option, not when he speaks to you like that.
You end up standing awkwardly in the kitchen, staring aimlessly at the ceramic bowls dripping suds from the draining rack beside the sink. “Can I, uh…” you say nervously, fumbling with the camera in your tote, “can I take a picture of your window?” You cringe immediately as he stares at you like you’ve just grown a second head. He probably thinks you’re missing at least a good handful of screws.
“I just- I’m trying to make a photo album, to look back on,” you ramble, trying to salvage Toji’s image of you as fully sane, “and the light makes the room look kinda pretty, that’s all, and-“
Toji snorts, eyes glinting with something you can’t quite place, and nods slowly. “Knock yourself out, kid.”
The camera snaps, and the Fushiguro kitchen is immortalised forevermore on the sleek photo in your fingers- sunlight paints bright strokes through the glass, catching on the overgrown (and mildly neglected) pot plant resting on the windowsill.
In the corner sits a few drying bowls, ceramic coated with a frothy layer of soapy suds. “Thanks.” You mumble, tucking it away for safekeeping.
Toji leans on the counter, mug of dark coffee resting lazily in his huge hand before he sets it down and laughs to himself. “Cute.”
“What?”
He doesn’t clarify or even respond, just reaches for the little plastic lighter strewn somewhere on the counter.
The lighter clicks when he thumbs at it, a tiny flame sparking at the end of the cigarette he plucked from the discarded packet; smoke curls immediately, snaking in pretty spirals through the sunlight eating into the shadows of the kitchen.
“I thought you quit smoking.” You offer lightheartedly, praying he’ll let you leave soon before your self control implodes and you start drooling over the shape of his biceps. Oops.
“Yeah, well-” Toji replies, voice low as a smirk pulls at his mouth, “-I needed one after seeing you walk half naked outta my son’s room.”
You feel the blood rush to your face, the way your skin prickles and warms then goes pale in horror. “I…me and Megumi- you shouldn’t-“
Toji just watches as you stammer, cigarette glowing between his scarred lips. He’s not making it easy for you; it’s bad enough to ask about your hookup with his son without bringing up the way you left afterwards, and especially not looking at you like that.
Toji laughs around the cigarette and your palms get clammy.
“We didn’t have sex!” You shrill suddenly, eyes widening when he just raises an unimpressed eyebrow and keeps tapping excess ash into the little tray beside him. “We didn’t even take off our underwear-“
That gets Toji’s attention, and somehow having his eyes locked on you is worse. His gaze feels like it’s trying to see past your clothes and to the underwear you didn’t take off for his son, perhaps wondering what shade of lace or cotton you’ve gone for.
“I’m… gonna leave now.” You mumble abruptly, embarrassment coursing thickly through your veins as you fumble in your tote for Megumi’s sweater and pile it on the counter.
“Nah, you’re not leaving that easily.”
Fuck, he’s grabbing your wrist.
You turn slowly, the loose grip on your skin making you pause. “What?”
Toji tightens his hold and pulls you towards the couch, where he unceremoniously drags you down to rest beside him. The cushions dip below you, plush fabric curving against the thighs Toji wishes he didn’t want to touch so badly.
Your thighs brushes against his, soft skin meeting rough fabric, and your breath hitches when you turn to face him. Eyes travel over his shoulders, to the ridged outline of his abdomen through his shirt, to where you’re sure you can see the imprint of his cock if you squint at the fabric hard enough-
“Somethin’ you want, sweetheart?” He snickers, adjusting his position so his thighs spread out wider. When he notices you’ve gone rigid, he sighs and pats his thigh. “C’mere.”
You obey immediately, swinging your thighs to bracket his, the clothed warmth of your cunt separated from him by little more than the denim of your shorts. He flexes the muscle once, just experimentally, and you gasp. “Oh!”
“Ohhhh.” He mimicks, big hands already rubbing slow circles along your waist. “So, pretty… how’s your summer been?”
You stare at him- seriously? You’re straddling his thigh and he’s asking about your summer break? “Huh?”
Clearly, Toji sees the shock painting your features and takes it upon himself to start pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck. Saliva glimmers across your skin as his teeth graze your jugular, but he doesn’t bite down. “Yeah, doll, it’s nice to keep in touch with my son’s friends.”
You shift on his lap at the mention of Megumi’s name, but you can’t bring yourself to feel guilty when the seam of your shorts presses up against your clit and you whimper. “I- um- I’ve been to the beach a few times…” you begin nervously, rocking your hips forwards.
“Go on.” Toji mutters, his hands creeping below the hem of your shirt to thumb at the skin below your bra. He’s pretending he isn’t hard over the thought of you in a bikini.
“And… I’ve worked on some stuff for college, ordered a few textbooks…”
His mouth sucks gently at your neck, “keeping up with it all. Good girl.”
You can’t help it- your hips jerk involuntarily against him, another whine tearing itself from your lips as your panties cling to you. You physically can’t take it; Toji’s holding you in place with strong hands, controlling the amount of pressure afforded to your dampening body.
“Please-“
“Please what?” He grins, “ask nicely.”
“Anything-“ you whisper despairingly, grinding yourself into the solid, immovable pressure of his thigh, “I can’t-“
Toji manhandles you so quickly it almost gives you whiplash, the light in the room spiralling as you flip over onto your back. You look down, and where you’re expecting to see your legs dangling from the couch, you’re met with the sight of Toji Fushiguro on his knees and wrenching your shorts down.
“Jesus,” he laughs roughly, “you’re so wet. This all from grinding on my thigh?”
You nod, embarrassed. “Please.” The beg comes out more desperate, more wobbly than you intended, fuelled by the way his eyes look fixed directly onto your sopping pussy while he sucks light marks onto your inner thighs.
Toji groans when he puts his mouth on you, sliding your underwear to the side before licking one firm stripe through your slick.
“Fuck-“ you moan, fingers tangling in his dark hair when his lips suction tightly around your clit. You know you should feel bad about fucking your friend’s dad, but as it stands he’s giving it to you so good nothing can permeate the little bubble around you.
“You taste good.” He murmurs, pulling away just for a moment to see the way you squirm. The loss of his touch is painful, cold air snaking across your sensitive skin and leaving goosebumps.
You know the air isn’t really cold- it’s warm outside, it’s warm in here, but nothing compares to the heat of Toji’s mouth. “Don’t be- fuck- mean,” you groan, head falling back with a soft thud! against the couch.
“Who’re you asking?” Toji muses, thumb torturously circling your clit just wide enough to provide no real pressure.
“You?” You reply confusedly, mind hazy through the need bubbling in your lower body.
“And who would that be, sweetheart?”
You blush, squirming as he locks eyes with you. “Mr Fushiguro?”
“Nah,” he sighs theatrically, thumb completely removed from your clit. Whining exasperatedly, nails digging into his scalp, you pout. “Try again, pretty.”
A sigh rolls from your tongue, eyes screwed up in embarrassment. “…Toji.”
“Yeahhh,” he grins, “s’right.”
His mouth is back on your neglected pussy before you can say anything more, tongue flicking meanly across your clit; your breaths come out staggered around the shape of his name, octaves higher than you would’ve expected.
Higher than Toji expected, as he grins smugly and thwacks his fingertips over your clit in a form of twisted reward. His cock throbs annoyingly in his sweatpants, but Toji’s more focused on the way your empty cunt keeps sloshing out more waves of slick onto his awaiting mouth instead.
“Toji- shit, ohmygod-“ you cry, pelvis twitching when he curls two fingers inside you. The stretch alone is enough to make you gasp, but when his calloused fingerpads brush past that one specific spot?
He keeps going, licking at your glossy cunt and angling his fingers. The fullness is incredible, winding something tighter and tighter in your abdomen that immobilises all thought; you can hear your voice getting louder, the way it makes Toji groan against you, the way it gets so desperate you wish you’d just shut up, but you can’t.
“To-ji-“
The shattered syllables are the last thing your body squeezes out before you’re soaking his palm, the man between your legs eagerly drinking up everything you give him. His scarred maw stretches out obscenely.
You go limp against the couch, chest heaving as you suck in shaky breaths through burning lungs. You’re brought back to reality at the feeling of something cool flattening against your thighs and you jolt.
“Stay still.” He huffs hoarsely, “cleaning you up.” It’s bizarre- he was so mean just minutes ago, mouth clamped over you, and now Toji’s dabbing carefully at your sweaty skin with a damp cloth. You let it happen.
“There.” He says eventually, sliding your ruined underwear back into place and fastening your shorts while you focus on standing up properly, legs shaky.
“Don’t, uh…” you mutter, “don’t you want help?” You gesture vaguely down to the sizeable, painfully obvious bulge straining against his sweats.
Toji deliberates for a second, tongue pressing thoughtfully against his teeth. “Nah, you can go home. I’ll give Megs his shirt back.”
“Sweater.” You correct him. It’s all very casual for somebody who just soaked his face between your thighs, but you aren’t one to comment.
Toji shrugs and pats you on the shoulder, watching as you turn the sunny corner and walk home; but after the door swings shut, he’s left with an empty house and a stubborn erection. “Shit.”
series masterlist | check out the photo album! | regular masterlist
synopsis ~ months of longing. a week at a beach house. one shared bed, too much tension and too little self control. suguru geto has spent far too long wanting his friend’s roommate. far too long trying not to ruin her. unfortunately for him, when she shows up to spring break looking at him like that, he fails spectacularly.
tags ~ 18+ mdni !!! idiots in fucking love, yearning yearning yearning, geto's a masterclass yearner, lowkey slowburn? friends to lovers-ish, mutual pining, praise kink, dirty talk, pet names, oral fixation, piv sex, creampie, marking, size difference, belly bulge, light possessiveness, aftercare, geto's just down bad and i love him and i love this
a/n ~ gosh this was toooo much fun to write. decided to make this one a long(er) oneshot compared to the multi parts i had for choso n gojo, bc it made more sense with the plot i had in mind! hopefully all of u lovelies enjoy ;) and sorry for the wait <3
w/c ~ 17.4 k (youch i got carried away)
access the frat verse here!
your roommate brings it up three days before finals week officially starts, which already tells you the idea is terrible. the two of you are sitting cross-legged on the floor of your apartment living room surrounded by open textbooks, half-folded laundry, and empty instant noodle containers.
she’s supposed to be writing a paper. instead, she’s online shopping for bikinis. “i actually can’t do this anymore,” she announces dramatically, laptop balanced on her thighs. “if i read one more discussion post i’m walking into traffic.”
you hum absentmindedly, highlighting a paragraph without processing any of it.
outside, rain taps against the windows in soft uneven bursts. campus looks gray and muddy and exhausted. even the frat houses have gone quieter this week. everyone’s studying, or pretending to.
your roommate suddenly gasps. “spring break,” she says.
“what about it?”
“we should go to your beach house.”
that gets your attention. you look up slowly from your laptop. “we?”
“yes, we.” she tosses a sock at you. “like. everyone.”
“everyone…us girls? or—”
“no, the frat too,” she says, smiling. “i want choso to be there.”
you roll your eyes, focusing back on your notes. she’s been glued to her boyfriend’s hip ever since they got together. it’s almost sickening, if they weren’t so perfect for each other. you’re rarely in the house alone anymore.
“dunno if that’s a good idea,” you say, because your brain immediately supplies the image of suguru geto.
it’s geto. always geto.
your roommates notices your change in expression instantly. the grin that spreads across her face is immediate and evil. “oh my god.”
you narrow your eyes. “don’t.”
“you thought about him first.”
“i literally didn’t,” you mumble, pushing your glasses up your nose.
“you literally did.”
you throw the sock back at her head and she dodges it, laughing. “you’re soooo weird about him.”
and she’s right. you are weird about him. not in an obvious way, no. whatever thing between you and geto occurs in fragments. in pauses and glances held half a second too long.
eye tag.
that’s what gojo called it once after catching the two of you staring at each other across the frat kitchen while everyone else argued over beer pong rules. “you guys do this every time,” he’d said.
you’d denied it immediately. geto had just looked away.
your roommate clasps her hands together. “please invite them. choso already said yes if you say yes.”
“you asked him before asking me?”
“well, yes.”
you sigh, rubbing your forehead. “the house isn’t huge.”
“it has four bedrooms.”
“one of them barely counts,” you point out.
“we can make it work.”
your parents are never at the beach house this time of year, anyways, and know you’re responsible enough to handle it on your own.
it’s few hours from campus along a quieter part of the shoreline. you haven’t been in almost a year.
the thought of ocean air instead of stale lecture halls makes you exhale slightly.
“aha,” your roommate says, pointing at you. “that was a considering face.”
“it was not.”
“come on. it’ll be fun.”
“it’ll be loud.”
“only a little.”
“imagine bonfires,” your roommate says dreamily.
“imagine property damage.”
“imagine volleyball.”
“imagine bail money.”
you already know you’re going to cave. despite everything the rest has somehow become tangled into your life over the past semester. in the middle of late-night food runs and campus events and parties is geto’s face and how you notice him before he notices you almost every time.
at parties, he’s usually tucked somewhere quieter while everybody else spirals around him in chaos. sitting on kitchen counters, leaning against walls with a drink untouched in his hand. watching. and eventually his eyes find yours, every single time.
the first few times it happened you thought you imagined it. you? nerd you? suguru geto looking at you?
but it kept happening. across crowded rooms and across lecture halls.
“you’re thinking about him again,” your roommate says.
it’s his deep voice and calmness and the way he rolls his sleeves to his elbows when he’s focused. the exhaustion constantly sitting beneath his eyes lately because he’s balancing classes and internship applications and responsibilities and everybody else’s problems too.
“shut up,” you say weakly.
“i’m texting choso. this is happening.”
you sigh, knowing that once your roommate wants something to go her way, it’s happening.
how bad can the trip really go, anyway?
“gojo’s already asking if the beach house has speakers.”
“tell him yes, but the neighbours don’t like noise past 10pm.”
“geto says he can drive.” your roommate looks up at you, chewing her lip, and you’re suddenly very interested in the notes you’ve been trying to read over.
now you’re imagining geto driving, one hand on the wheel, ocean air and his stupid rings glinting under the dashboard lights
you stand abruptly, gathering your notes before your imagination gets worse.
thursday - eight days from departure
geto realizes he’s in trouble on a thursday night while half-drunk freshmen scream-sing nextdoor to music that sounds like somebody attacking a speaker with a hammer. he’s sitting at the frat dining table with an untouched beer beside his laptop, trying to finish an internship application before midnight.
keyword : trying.
because you’re here. you’re not even doing anything particularly distracting either. you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch in one of those oversized university sweaters, glasses sliding slightly down your nose while you argue with choso’s girlfriend over how many bags of chips are too many for one week at the beach house.
you shouldn’t be this difficult to ignore, and yet geto’s cursor has been blinking on the same sentence for six minutes.
gojo and toji yell something at each other from across the room. everyone starts talking over each other, except for choso, who’s curled into his girlfriend’s side, and you.
you stay focused, tapping at your laptop with concentration pulling your brows together slightly. geto watches your mouth move while you talk.
that’s becoming a problem too. noticing little things. the tiny crease between your eyebrows when you’re annoyed. the way you tuck your legs underneath yourself without thinking.
it’s gotten worse recently, or maybe he’s just stopped pretending it hasn’t been happening. for months now, every room he walks in feels altered slightly if you’re there.
he hates how aware he’s become of you. worse, you notice him too.
geto’s not stupid. he sees the way your eyes snag on him before flicking away. the pauses, the tension, that look you get when he stands too close.
it’s there constantly, like static humming between you both.
“geto.” your voice cuts clean through his thoughts.
he looks up immediately. you’re staring at him from across the room now, brows raised slightly. his stomach does something deeply irritating. “yeah?”
“you haven’t answered a single thing we asked.”
gojo grins instantly from the kitchen island.
“he was staring at you.”
geto doesn’t react outwardly. years of dealing with satoru have made his self-control nearly supernatural.
you, unfortunately, do react. irritation flashes visibly across your face before you glare at gojo. “oh my god, shut up.”
“am i wrong?”
“yes,” both you and geto say at the exact same time.
toji starts laughing so hard he nearly chokes. “jesus christ,” he mutters. “you two are painful.”
geto drags a hand down his face slowly. you’re suddenly very interested in your spreadsheet.
cute.
“i made categories,” you explain, stuttering over the last word as you regain composure. “colour coded. it’s a shared excel sheet so you can all access it too.”
geto smiles softly. you’re focused and bossy and pretty. he thinks he should probably stop looking at you like that.
“okay,” you say, tapping the couch. “can everyone e-transfer me their share tonight so i can book groceries in advance?”
gojo raises a hand. “no. actually, toji and i pass.”
you run a hand down your face. “what?”
“we’re the entertainment,” he explains, like it makes total sense.
“eighty dollars, each of you, please,” you say, tilting your head back. “i hate all of you.”
“that’s not true,” gojo says. “You like suguru.”
the room goes quiet instantly. choso coughs into his drink. gojo’s girlfriend physically turns away to hide her smile.
gojo points between the two of you lazily.
“the vibes are crazy.”
“there are no vibes,” you say immediately.
“you look flustered,” toji notes helpfully.
everybody starts talking over each other again while you try defending yourself with rapidly deteriorating success. geto says nothing, because while the others laugh and argue his eyes stay on you.
you can feel it too. he knows you can. that tension pressing tighter every time your gazes meet.
your eyes lift to his and his gaze flicks to your mouth for one brief, horrible second.
you both look away just as fast.
sunday - five days from departure
your bedroom looks like a clothing store exploded. bikinis draped over desk chairs, shorts hanging off your bedframe, three different pairs of sandals abandoned in the middle of the floor. “i hate everything,” you announce.
your roommate barely glances up from where she’s laying across your bed with choso half beneath her like a human mattress. “dramatic.”
“none of this looks right.”
“you’ve changed outfits six times.”
“because i look weird.”
“you literally don’t.”
you turn sideways in the mirror, scrutinizing yourself harder. the dress is just soft black fabric that skims your body, thin straps, lower neckline than what you normally wear. you bought it for some finance networking event your department hosted last month because your mom said you needed “staple outfits.”
your roommate sits up on her elbows finally, exasperated. “you know most people going on beach trips are worried about, like, sunscreen?”
“i am worried about sunscreen.”
“i forgot you made a spreadsheet for sunscreen.”
“uv rays are serious.”
choso laughs quietly from beneath her, hands resting loosely on her thighs. you point at him immediately. “don’t encourage her.”
“i didn’t say anything.”
“the laugh felt judgmental.”
your roommate rolls her eyes before looking back at you properly. “you look hot,” she says flatly. “actually annoyingly hot. if you don’t pack the dress i’m stealing it.”
you scoff softly, turning back toward the mirror. “it’s too much.”
“for who?”
you shrug. some part of you already knows exactly who you’re thinking about, which is ridiculous. you’re literally standing in your bedroom overanalyzing a dress because suguru geto might see it.
your roommate seems seconds away from teasing you about exactly that when choso speaks absentmindedly from the bed.“geto likes that one.”
the room goes silent and you slowly turn around. “…what?”
choso freezes and his eyes widen slightly like he physically felt the mistake leave his mouth in real time.
your roommate lifts her head immediately. “what do you mean geto likes that one?”
“nothing,” choso says too quickly.
“choso,” she says.
“i’m serious.”
you narrow your eyes at him. “how would he even know this dress?”
another pause then choso makes the fatal mistake of hesitating. your roommate gasps dramatically. “OH MY GOD HE DOES KNOW THE DRESS?!”
“baby,” choso says weakly.
“no, no, come back.” she grabs his arm before he can sit up. “what do you mean he likes the dress?”
“i wasn’t supposed to say anything.”
you cross your arms slowly. “that’s an insane sentence.”
choso looks deeply distressed now. your roommate softens instantly though, because unfortunately for choso, she knows exactly how to handle him. she cups his face gently, pressing a tiny kiss against his jaw. “please?” she asks sweetly.
choso exhales heavily through his nose, cheeks going pink. weak man. he folds almost immediately. “okay but you cannot tell geto i said any of this.”
you and your roommate both nod way too fast and he points at both of you suspiciously before continuing. “you wore that dress to the frat one night.”
your brows pinch together slightly. “…when?”
“when you came to pick her up after that finance networking thing.”
oh.you remember that night.
you’d stopped by the frat around midnight because your roommate was too drunk to uber home alone. you were still dressed up from the event downtown. heels hurting. hair done. tired and irritated because gojo had answered the door already yelling.
you hadn’t stayed long, just long enough to drag your roommate upstairs to collect her stuff while half the frat stared at you like they’d never seen a woman before.
apparently including geto.
“what happened?” your roommate asks immediately.
choso rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “nothing happened exactly. some guy made a comment after you left.”
your stomach tightens slightly. “what kind of comment?”
“just saying you looked good or whatever.”
“and?” your roommate presses.
choso sighs. “and geto got weird about it.”
heat crawls instantly up your neck. “weird how?”
“he just…” choso pauses, visibly trying to decide how much to say. “he looked annoyed.”
your roommate’s jaw drops. “he got jealous?”
“well, I dunno, not—”
“choso.”
“i’m serious.”
“what did he say?”
another long sigh. “he said you don’t even realize how pretty you are.”
your roommate physically collapses face-first into the bed, laughing into a pillow. you just stand there your heart suddenly beating way too hard. “that’s not…” you clear your throat softly. “that’s not that serious.”
both of them look at you. your roommate lifts her head slowly. “you are genuinely the dumbest smart person i know.”
“i’m not dumb.”
“he said you don’t know how pretty you are.”
“people say things.”
“not like that.”
choso looks like he regrets existing and unfortunately for him your roommate isn’t done. “what ELSE has he said?”
“nothing,” choso mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.
“liar.”
“baby.”
another soft kiss against his jaw, pretty doe eyes, and you watch the fight leave choso’s body. he groans quietly. “he just asks about you sometimes,” he mumbles, glancing up at you.
your stomach flips again. “asks what?” your roommate says immediately.
“normal stuff.”
“define normal.”
“like if she’s seeing anybody.”
your eyes widen slightly.
“or what her type is,” choso admits.
your roommate grabs your arm so hard you almost lose balance. “i knew it.”
“stop saying that,” you hiss, feeling too warm and out of place in your own body now.
choso keeps talking now that he’s doomed anyway. “there were these guys talking to you outside one of our econ buildings a while ago and geto asked after if you knew them.”
you blink. you remember that too. two business majors from another frat trying very hard to impress you after class. geto had walked by while you were talking to them and you hadn’t thought he even paid attention.
apparently he had.
“and,” choso adds carefully, “he asked if they were bothering you.”
something warm and dangerous and twisting settles low in your stomach, and your roommate looks one second away from planning a wedding. “this is insane.”
“it’s not insane,” you say weakly.
“he likes you.”
“you don’t know that.”
“y/n,” she says flatly. “be serious.”
you sit on the edge of your bed, the black dress clinging to your skin, and now all you can think about is geto noticing it. remembering it. liking it enough to mention it after you’d already gone.
your roommate watches your expression carefully from the bed and then smiles slowly.
friday - day of departure
departure day starts at eleven in the morning and immediately feels cursed. gojo is late, even though the meetup spot is outside the frat. toji's holding an iced coffee and is directing where bags are to be put instead of actually helping. somehow, your roommate's lost one of her sandals already. choso's carrying about fourteen bags (thirteen of which are his girlfriend's) and you?
you're standing in the driveway trying to figure out how seven people accumulated this much luggage for a beach trip. a seven day beach trip. “why do you have three suitcases,” you ask gojo’s girlfriend.
"two of them are satoru's," she says, patting her boyfriend's head, and he grins like a lovesick puppy. "i don't know why he has so many clothes."
geto’s car sits at the curb behind gojo's girlfriend's car - the two drivers for the trip. geto's leaning against it, typing on his phone, and of course the fact that he looks good pre-noon makes your heart pang. you can only imagine what you would look like standing beside him, what with your frizzy hair and crooked glasses.
he's wearing a dark hoodie and shorts, sunglasses pushes up into his hair while choso helps him load luggage into the back. you try not to stare but your brain seems to enjoy self-destruction.
because watching geto lift heavy bags with one hand while calmly reorganizing everybody’s mess should not be attractive.
getp closes his trunk with a final solid thud. "my car's got the most space," he says. "why don't you transfer all the luggage over from the other car?"
your roommate perks up immediately. "perfect."
"there'll be room for one person up front too," geto adds casually. then he looks directly at you. your stomach flips so hard it almost makes you angry.
you glance away first. before you can say literally anything, your roommate beams. "great! y/n'll go with you."
you whip around instantly. "what?"
"you get carsick in crowded backseats," she says innocently.
which is true. unfortunately. “i can survive.”
“and i want leg room,” toji says. "no fuckin' way am i cramming in the back with the lovebirds," he grumbles, pointing to choso and your roomate, "with this fucker in the front." he points his thumb to gojo, who's smiling happily.
"then you can go in the front with geto," you say.
your roommate gives you a deadpan look. gojo's girlfriend sighs.
"toji, just sit in the back, please," choso says quietly. "it's only a two and a half hour ride."
he opens his mouth to retort an excuse but gojo's girlfriend promptly elbows him in the chest. he grumbles but settles in the back of gojo's girlfriend's sedan anyway.
geto looks almost relieved, but he quickly masks it with his typical aloofness.
your roommate grabs your shoulder, grinning ear to ear. "have fun!"
you narrow your eyes at her. “i hope your phone charger breaks.”
gojo leans out the passenger window of the other car. “pee break every forty-five minutes!”
“absolutely not,” both you and geto say simultaneously.
gojo points between you both immediately. “they’re married already.”
you ignore him completely, mostly because geto is already walking around to the passenger side of his car and opening the door for you. which should not affect you this much.
it’s basic manners. normal behavior. except when you pass him, the scent of his cologne mixes with cool morning air and coffee and suddenly your thoughts short-circuit for half a second.
annoying. very, super annoying.
you settle into the seat while geto finishes loading the last bag.
the car smells clean, like sandalwood and detergent and something distinctly geto. you hate that you know what he smells like.
the second he slides into the driver’s seat beside you, the space feels smaller. you feel him glance at you before putting the car into start, and you're driving off, leading the other car behind you.
your phone buzzes immediately.
roomie: have fun on your first date ❤️
you: i’m going to kill you with my bare hands
you shove your phone away quickly before geto can accidentally see. “you have the address?” he asks quietly.
“yeah.” you pull up the map. “did gojo’s girlfriend save it too?”
“i sent it to her twice.”
“good.”
“you don’t trust them?”
you stare out the windshield where gojo is currently hanging halfway out the car window yelling something about his spring break arc. “…should i?”
geto laughs quietly beside you and the sound makes your head spin happily. you don't hear him laugh often, unless he's mocking gojo. this quiet, real laugh is something you notice every single time.
after twenty minutes you hit the highway and you sink back into your seat with a sigh. “finally.”
“you stressed?” geto asks lightly.
“i like plans.”
“i noticed.”
you narrow your eyes slightly. “that sounded judgmental.”
“it wasn’t.”
“mhm.”
he glances at you briefly while turning onto the highway. sunlight catches against the rings on his fingers resting on the steering wheel. your brain immediately decides to become unhelpful so you look out the window instead.
for another few minutes, it’s quiet except for road noise and the distant bass vibrating from the other car behind, then geto taps the screen on the dashboard. “you want music?”
“i don’t mind.”
“you sure?”
“...yeah? why?” you glance over at him.
“because now if you hate my music taste you'll have to be super polite about it and the car ride will be awkward.”
you laugh softly. “i promise it won't be bad. i won't be that harsh.”
his mouth curves slightly before he scrolls through his phone. music fills the car a second later and you recognize it almost instantly.
your head turns before you can stop yourself. “wait,” you say. “is this the smiths?”
geto glances over briefly. “…you listen to the smiths?”
“obviously.”
“obviously?”
“what’s that supposed to mean?”
“nothing,” he says, clearly amused now. “i just didn’t expect it.”
you scoff. “what did you expect?”
he thinks about it for a second. “something old. like classical music.”
"i don't mind classical, but the smiths have always been one of my favourites."
he flashes you a genuine smile, fingers gently tapping the rhythm of the song on the wheel. "i'm glad."
after that, conversation begins to flow easier. favourite albums, worst profs, gojo. (lots of gojo). he says something that makes you snort and that same small, real smile etches onto his lips and god, this is dangerous.
you watch the highway stretch under the pale morning sunlight while trees blur at the edges of the road. after a moment you steal another glance at him. he's relaxed, one arm resting near the window, sunglasses low on his nose.
he's so...pretty.
the thought hits so fast and hard it almost embarrasses you. as if sensing it, geto looks over suddenly. your eyes meet instantly and there it is again. that thing. that horrible, suspended moment where neither of you looks away fast enough.
his gaze flicks down briefly to your mouth then back up. your pulse stutters.
behind you, gojo’s girlfriend's car suddenly swerves slightly as gojo sticks his head out the sunroof, shouting something imperceptible.
the moment breaks. you clear your throat quickly, looking forward again. “they’re going to die before we even get there.”
geto’s laugh rumbles low beside you. “probably.”
gojo’s girlfriend has both hands gripping the steering wheel like she’s transporting explosives. “if you scream one more time,” she says flatly, eyes locked on the road, “i’m pulling over and leaving all of you on the highway.”
“that feels hostile,” gojo says from the passenger seat.
“you barked at a motorcycle.”
“it barked first.”
from the backseat, toji groans dramatically as choso’s girlfriend shifts closer into choso’s side again. “i’m in hell,” he mutters.
“you’re just bitter because nobody wants to cuddle you,” she says cheerfully.
“wrong. women love me.”
“do they?” gojo says from the front, shit-eating grin on his face.
“historically. your mother would know.”
“you don't know shit about my mom,” gojo laughs. “she doesn't have your fucking number.”
“that's cause she gave it to me.”
choso quietly adjusts his arm around his girlfriend’s waist so she can lean more comfortably against him. toji gags loudly. “there they go again,” he says. “the world’s most nauseating couple.”
"you're just single. quadruple-wheeling the trip. us, choso and his girl, and whatever the fuck is going on in geto's car."
toji kicks the back of gojo’s seat and the car swerves slightly.
everyone yells immediately. “if we die,” gojo’s girlfriend says through gritted teeth, “i’m haunting all of you.”
“you’d look hot as a ghost,” gojo says instantly.
she snorts despite herself. from the backseat, choso’s girlfriend glances down at her phone.
“they’re probably having the most awkward car ride ever right now.”
gojo twists around immediately. “you think they’ve kissed yet?”
“it’s been thirty minutes,” choso says.
“exactly.”
“they’re not kissing,” his girlfriend says, though she sounds deeply unconvinced.
toji stretches his long legs out miserably. “they do have weird tension though.”
choso’s girlfriend smiles to herself a little, gaze drifting toward the road ahead where geto’s car moves steadily a few lengths in front of them. “i think they’re both just nervous,” she says softly.
“geto?” gojo laughs loudly. “nervous over a girl?”
if only they saw how bright geto's smile was right now as you talked animatedly about how well your finals went. with you and your legs propped up on the dash, smooth and perfect and he couldn't stop staring without seeming weird. how his heart skipped a beat every time one of your perfect smiles were directed to him.
if only they knew how gone for you he really was.
the second the beach house comes into view, everyone in the other car completely loses their minds. your phone starts vibrating before geto’s even finished pulling into the driveway.
SPRING BREAKKUHH
gojo: HOLY SHIT???
gojo: WHY IS IT HUGE
roomie: i warned u
you laugh softly under your breath as the other car practically screeches to a stop beside you. the house sits glowing gold in the late afternoon sunlight, all warm cedar and giant windows overlooking the water below. dune grass sways softly around the edges of the deck while waves crash faintly in the distance.
home.
you hadn’t realized how badly you needed this until now. gojo launches out of the car first. “BEACH ARC!” he screams.
“inside voice,” you call automatically.
“we’re outside.”
“future inside voice.”
toji steps out next, stretching dramatically. “thank christ. my knees were touching my organs back there.”
everyone starts unloading luggage in a blur after that. bags thumping against the deck, music already blasting from someones speaker, and of course, gojo attempting to carry six things at once before immediately dropping half of them.
you’re hauling one of the grocery bags up the front steps when your roommate appears beside you wearing the smuggest expression imaginable. “so,” she says casually.
you already know. “don’t.”
“you and geto looked cozy.”
“we were in a car.”
“alone.”
“with seatbelts.”
gojo’s girlfriend appears on your other side immediately. “the sexual tension was visible through the windshield.”
you nearly trip over the doorway. “there is no sexual tension.”
both of them stare at you and you adjust your glasses defensively. “there just objectively is not.”
“you’re doing the nerd thing,” your roommate says.
“what nerd thing?”
“the glasses push.”
your hand drops instantly away from your frames. traitors, the both of them. behind you, geto lifts two suitcases from the trunk effortlessly while listening to choso say something beside him.
he glances toward the front porch, toward you, and your stomach does the stupid thing again. once inside everybody immediately scatters to explore the house.
gojo runs directly toward the back windows dramatically. “the back deck is is insane.”
“don’t break anything,” you warn.
“you say that every time.”
“because every time you almost break something.”
toji opens the fridge. “this thing is bigger than four of the fridges at the frat.”
you kick your shoes off near the entryway while everybody talks over each other around you. the house smells faintly like cedarwood and ocean air, comfortable and familiar.
comfortable.
familiar.
geto pauses beside one of the windows quietly, gaze moving across the living room and you watch his expression shift slightly. he looks good, his hoodie sleeves pushed up, hair loosened slightly from it's usual knot, sunlight catching against his skin through the windows.
you look away before your brain gets worse.
eventually everyone gathers in the living room surrounded by luggage and grocery bags while you attempt to regain control of the chaos. “okay,” you say, clapping once. “room assignments.”
immediately, “dibs,” both gojo and choso say at the same time.
their girlfriends laugh. “obviously,” gojo’s girlfriend says. "we can take the upstairs bedroom, if you don't mind? the one on the side?"
“don’t be loud,” you say, and gojo flips you off. within seconds choso and your roommate have claimed one of the downstairs bedrooms, which leaves you, geto and toji, and two remaining bedrooms.
the master, upstairs. the guest room, downstairs, which has a double bed.
you’re mentally calculating sleeping arrangements when geto speaks first.
“y/n should take the master.”
your head lifts. geto’s leaning back slightly against the kitchen island now, arms folded loosely. “it’s her house,” he says simply.
heat flickers low in your stomach at how immediate the answer was. before you can respond, toji lets out a deeply offended noise. “what,” he says flatly.
everyone turns toward him. he gestures broadly at himself and geto. “so your solution is to cram two six-foot-plus men into a queen bed?”
“you survived the car,” gojo calls from halfway down the hall.
“barely. my spine compressed.” toji points accusingly at you. “i already sacrificed circulation for this trip.”
your roommate’s eyes flick between you and geto so fast it’s almost cartoonish. “easy fix,” she says. “geto and y/n share.”
silence, and your heart drops to your ass. nobody says anything immediately because apparently every single person in this house has collectively decided to make your life harder.
you stare at your roommate. she grins back innocently. beside him, gojo's girlfriend physically bites the inside of her cheek trying not to smile.
toji shrugs instantly. “works for me.”
“of course it does,” you mutter.
your roommate looks dangerously delighted now. “i mean…”
you whip around. “okay, that's--that's enough.”
“it makes sense.”
“does it?”
“logistically?”
you narrow your eyes. she smiles sweetly. geto has gone suspiciously quiet beside the kitchen island and when you risk one glance towards him he's already looking at you completely unreadable except for the faintest pink creeping up his ears.
your pulse stutters embarrassingly hard. “i can sleep on the couch,” you say quickly.
“absolutely not,” geto says immediately. too fast. the room goes quiet again and you feel every single person notice the tension. especially when geto clears his throat softly afterward. “i mean,” he adds more evenly, “it’s your place.”
gojo looks one second away from exploding with laughter.
toji stretches lazily against the armchair. “well i’m not sharing with him.”
your roommate suddenly stands. “perfect! problem solved.”
you stare at her in horror. “you didn’t solve anything.”
“you and geto get the master.”
your brain short-circuits. you open your mouth to protest then glance toward geto again. his eyes meet yours instantly, and you both look away.
biggest coward of all - your one and only, y/n.
everyone disperses after that. gojo immediately starts trying to connect his phone to the speaker system downstairs, toji disappears toward the back deck with a beer already in hand, choso and his girlfriend vanish into their room carrying bags and giggling like a disease.
you flee upstairs before your friends can torment you any further. your heartbeat still feels weird - you hate that.
the master bedroom sits at the end of the hallway overlooking the water, all soft linen and huge windows glowing gold from the lowering sun outside. you’ve always loved this room, not that you were in it often. throughout your childhood, it was occupied by your parents.
you especially love it at sunset. usually it calms you down.
usually.
right now all you can think about is the fact that suguru geto is sharing this room with you for an entire week.
it's insane and horrible and slightly thrilling in a way you refuse to examine too closely. you drop your bag onto the bed with a sigh before digging through your suitcase for something more comfortable. the drive left you sticky and overheated so you tug your shirt over your head absentmindedly, tossing it onto the bed before reaching behind yourself to unclasp your bra.
finally. freedom.
you’re halfway through pulling on a loose tank top when the bedroom door suddenly opens. you turn automatically.
geto walks in mid-sentence. “i was just gonna leave my ba—”
he stops completely. so do you.
silence detonates through the room because your bra is currently halfway off your arms and your tits are fully out.
oh my god. you yelp immediately, clutching the tank top against your chest. geto looks genuinely horrified. not in a bad way but shocked, like his brain physically short-circuited. his eyes flick upward instantly but it’s too late because the image is already there now, permanently burned into his consciousness forever.
“fuck,” he blurts immediately. “shit. fuck, sorry. jesus christ.”
you make another strangled noise while trying to cover yourself and pull the shirt on at the same time. geto turns around so fast he nearly walks into the doorframe. “i’m sorry,” he says again, voice suddenly rougher than usual. “i thought you were downstairs.”
“it’s okay,” you squeak.
it is not okay. your face feels approximately one million degrees.
geto grabs the doorknob blindly. “i’m gonna— yeah. sorry.” then he practically slams the door shut behind him.
you stand frozen in the middle of the bedroom clutching your shirt to your chest while your nervous system completely implodes.
oh my god.
OH MY GOD.
geto descends the stairs with a flushed face and rigid expression - the kind of forced composure that immediatley attracts attention in a house full of idiots.
gojo looks up from the couch instantly. “…the hell happened to you?”
geto keeps walking toward the kitchen. “nothing.”
“you look like you saw a ghost.”
“something like that,” geto mutters.
friday - 7 pm
by early evening, the house finally settles into something softer. the unpacking chaos dies down, most of your group is watching the ocean from the back porch. you’re cleaning up dinner dishes with choso, who keeps (politely) asking why you’ve got a weird look on your face.
it’s been four hours since that disaster upstairs. the awkwardness still hangs between you and geto, who can’t look you in the eye.
you change into one of your bikinis eventually, tugging an oversized button-up over it before heading downstairs with your glasses perched back on your nose. the second you appear, gojo grins. “beach time.”
“beach time,” you confirm with a small smile.
outside, the air smells like salt and warm cedar as everybody trails down the private wooden path toward the shoreline. the beach stretches mostly empty around you, pale sand glowing gold beneath the lowering sun while waves roll lazily onto shore. your roommate immediately grabs your hand and drags you toward the water. gojo sprints in after you both screaming for no reason. toji lights a cigarette. gojo’s girlfriend seems reluctant to put her feet in the water but she explodes into giggles when the white-haired man hauls her over his shoulders.
geto hangs back slightly. he still can’t think normally, not after upstairs. not after accidentally walking into the bedroom and seeing you half-dressed with your tits out looking shocked and all cute and soft beneath afternoon light.
jesus christ.
he’s trying very hard to be normal about it but the image keeps replaying against his will. the gentle curve of your chest and your startled expression and the way you scrambled to cover yourself.
he feels insane.
“you good?”
geto blinks. choso stands beside him now holding a cooler in one hand.
“fine,” geto says immediately.
choso hums, not believing him at all. ahead of them, you’re standing ankle-deep in the water now while your roommate splashes at gojo nearby. the ocean catches sunset light in shifting ribbons of gold and blue around your legs and fuck, geto’s pulse jumps instantly.
your oversized shirt hangs open slightly over your swimsuit whenever the wind catches it. your hair glows warm at the edges beneath the fading sun while you laugh at something gojo yells from farther down the shoreline.
pretty doesn’t even feel like the right word anymore.
it’s worse than that now. every time geto looks at you lately, something low in his chest tightens painfully. beside him, choso watches quietly for about three seconds. “you should probably stop staring.”
geto tears his eyes away immediately. “i wasn’t.”
“mhm.”
annoying.
they walk farther down the beach together while the others spread out ahead. waves crash softly nearby, the wind cool against their skin. “you know,” choso says after a minute, “she likes you too.”
geto nearly chokes. “…what?”
choso shrugs lightly. “i’m just saying.”
“you shouldn’t say anything.”
“okay.”
barely a pause before geto blurts, “does she actually?”
choso laughs quietly while geto rubs a hand over his jaw with a sigh.
this whole situation feels increasingly impossible to manage. before this trip, there was distance. space and campus distractions. now there’s shared car rides and a shared room and seeing you every five minutes. and apparently accidental nudity.
and of course there’s the fact that geto genuinely likes being around you. he likes talking to you. likes the way your brain works. the way you explain things when you’re excited. the little irritated face you make whenever gojo says something stupid.
it’s becoming a real problem.
“you’ve spent six months pretending you weren’t obsessed with her,” choso observes quietly.
geto glares at him. “i’m not obsessed.”
choso looks unconvinced. fair enough.
the sound of you laughing (at something toji or gojo did, likely) hits geto square in the chest. there’s something different about you here already. you’re lighter, less tense than you are on campus. he watches you push your glasses back up your nose while smiling toward the ocean, sunset washing warm gold across your skin.
beautiful.
the thought arrives with startling clarity this time, like he could spend an entire lifetime memorizing moments exactly like this. you glance back toward him suddenly and your eyes meet across the beach.
there it is again, that pull.
that awful suspended feeling like the rest of the world drops slightly out of focus whenever you look at each other too long.
friday - 9 pm
it's properly evening when you all head back to the beach house. the sky's a pretty shade of dark blue, stars shining little dots above your head. you all file into the house and you say something about not trailing any sand in, looking very pointedly at gojo.
salt clings faintly to your skin, your hair's a mess from the wind, and your brain still hasn't recovered from the way geto looked at you on the beach. you slip into the kitchen first to grab water, hoping for approximately thirty seconds alone to regain your sanity.
so, naturally, geto walks in immediately after you. of course he does.
you busy yourself with the fridge while he moves toward the sink beside you, sleeves pushed up again as he washes sand from his hands.
silence stretches, and it's not uncomfortable, exactly. it's worse - aware. you can feel him there without even looking. the heat of him beside you, the sound of water running over his hands. your pulse does something deeply irritating when his shoulder brushes yours accidentally reaching for a dish towel.
“sorry,” he murmurs.
“you keep saying that this trip.” you regret the words as soon as they come out. why would you bring up that incident?
his mouth twitches slightly.
before either of you can spiral further or say anything else gojo’s voice erupts from the living room.
“movie night?!”
you close your eyes briefly. saved by the idiot.
everybody migrates downstairs afterwards where the basement living room is. it's cozy and there's a huge projector setup against one wall, and an entire cabinet full of old dvds your parents collected over the years.
gojo kneels in front of it like he’s discovering sacred texts. “this is so fucking cool.”
“don’t touch them with your greasy hands,” you warn.
“snob.”
he ends up carefully plucking the first indiana jones movie from one of the shelves and hands it to you. "good pick? i've never seen it."
"great pick," you approve. you crouch down to the dvd player, fiddling with the wires to connect it properly to the projector. behind you, everyone's already claimed spots on the couches.
you don't think much of it until you finally turn around and freeze. one end of the sectional is occupied by toji's giant limbs. the rest has a very comfortable looking choso-and-roommate combo who are already curled into each other. the beanbag has gojo and his girlfriend squished onto it.
the only open spot left is beside geto on the loveseat.
your roommate suddenly becomes very interested in not making eye contact and gojo's girlfriend looks seconds away from laughing. you narrow your eyes at both of them before trudging toward the loveseat.
you sit as far from geto as physically possible, which on the loveseat is not very far. there's maybe a foot of space between you both ,close enough to feel hyperaware of each other's presence.
as the movie starts gojo's already stealing popcorn from his girlfriend and your roommate is practically asleep against choso's chest within minutes. geto's still infuriatingly still beside you, one arm draped along the back of the couch. not touching you, just there, and your heartbeat won't calm down.
you manage to balance this thin line of whatever-this-is between you and geto for half the movie, hardly paying attention to the plot, though you've seen the flick a dozen times. you keep gettind distracted by his arm (it's right there) and how if you inched just a liiiitle bit over, you'd basically be pressed against geto.
your bubble's interrupted by gojo bolting up from the beanbag, shouting about about a plot twist he 'totally saw coming,' and the volume of his screaming is so aggressive you jolt slightly.
your thigh brushes geto's. the rush that flows through you is electric and you both go still instantly. the contact lingers half a second too long before you shift subtly back except now geto's arm behind you lowers slightly. closer. his fingers brush your shoulder lightly and your pulse spikes so hard it hurts.
you stare very intensely at the movie screen pretending your entire nervous system isn’t imploding, then his thumb moves - small absentminded circles against your shoulder through the thin fabric of your shirt.
oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god -
you stop breathing for a second and beside you, geto’s voice drops low enough only you can hear. “…this okay?”
your throat feels weirdly tight. you nod once, his arm sliding lower around you slowly, careful enough to give you time to pull away if you want.
you don’t.
so instead he gently pulls you against his side, warm and solid, your brain short-circuiting instantly. somehow curling against him feels natural already. your head settles near his shoulder while his arm stays firm around your waist now, thumb still tracing slow patterns against your side.
the movie disappears completely and all you can think about is him. his cologne and the warmth radiating through his hoodie and the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek.
your heart feels seconds away from exploding.
geto feels equally doomed. having you tucked against him like this is significantly worse than he imagined. you fit there too easily. soft against his side and warm beneath his arm. he can smell coconut sunscreen faintly lingering on your skin from the beach and it’s actively destroying his ability to think. he's also trying very hard not to tighten his grip every time you shift closer unconsciously.
from across the room, toji announces, with zero social awareness, “i’m cold.”
toji’s voice cuts through the moment like a gunshot. you pull away instantly and geto’s arm drops from around you immediately like he touched fire.
“i can get blankets,” you say quickly, already standing.
“i’ll help,” geto says, glancing at you.
“you don’t have to—”
“it’s fine.”
you swallow thickly and nod, walking up the stairs, legs feeling like jello, geto right behind you.
from the couch, choso's girlfriend grabs a pillow and hurls it directly at toji's head. “what the fuck is wrong with you?”
toji catches it midair, deeply offended. “what?”
“they were having a moment.”
“how was i supposed to know that?”
“because everyone with functioning eyes knew that.”
gojo starts cackling.
when you make it upstairs, the silence between you and geto feels heavy and sharp and you move the hallway quickly trying to regain control of your heartbeat while grabbing blankets from the linen closet.
geto stands too cloise behind you that when you turn accidentally, you nearly walk straight into his chest.
your breath catches. his does too.
for one suspended second neither of you moves.
the hallway feels narrow suddenly and you're focused on warm, dim light spilling softly across his face and his dark eyes fixed on yours. your pulse pounds violently as geto's face flicks briefly to your mouth, then back up.
you think he’s going to kiss you.
you really think he’s going to kiss you.
instead, he quietly says, “…you don’t have to feel weird about downstairs.”
the words feel strange and your stomach drops slightly. “…weird?”
his expression shifts instantly like he realizes too late how that sounded. “no, i just meant—”
“right,” you say quickly.
humiliation flashes hot beneath your skin. he thinks you misread things, or worse, that he did. you step back first, push your glasses up too quickly. “no yeah. obviously.”
geto looks frustrated suddenly. “that’s not what i—”
“it’s okay,” you interrupt softly. “really.”
the tension curdles painfully into awkwardness as you grab as many blankets as possible before he can say anything else, then practically flee downstairs.
everyone looks up when you return. you toss blankets at people mechanically before settling onto the far end of the loveseat, as far away as you can from geto.
your roommate notices immediately. so does choso. so does gojo. gojo's girlfriend would've, too, if she weren't out cold asleep.
geto comes downstairs a second later quieter than before and he hesitates briefly looking toward you, then sits separately too.
on the floor.
distance stretches cold and strange across the room now. your chest aches and you tightly pull a blanket around yourself, staring at the movie screen without really seeing it.
geto watches the side of your face in silence from his spot on the floor and from that point on the rest of the movie feels wrong. nobody says anything outright but everybody notices, because thirty minutes ago you'd been curled into geto's side looking soft and shy while he stared at you like you painted those stars in the sky over the ocean.
now you're curled up like a hermit and geto's face seems almost painful as he stares at his feet.
gojo's eyes flick between the two of you every few seconds with all the subtlety of a car accident. his girlfriend, now awake, elbows him every time
choso notices too, though he’s more discreet about it. he just keeps glancing toward geto occasionally like he’s trying to figure out which one of you panicked first.
(toji remains blissfully clueless.)
you stay tucked beneath your blanket staring blankly at the projector screen while the movie plays out in blurry colors you barely register.
geto looks equally miserable. worse, actually, because now that he's replaying the conversation upstairs in his head, he realizes exactly how badly he phrased it. 'you don't have to feel weird about downstairs'. god. he sounded like he regretted it, like he was trying to backtrack, which is the opposite of what he meant.
he’d only wanted to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable. that you didn't feel pressured and that he hadn't crossed a line. instead he'd watched your face fall in real time. idiot. he's an idiot.
when the credits finally roll, everybody starts talking at once again. gojo arguing about the ending and toji asking if there's leftover chips and your roommate whispering something to choso while glancing at you.
you quietly push the blanket aside and stand. “i’m gonna go to bed,” you mumble. you’re not even sure anyone hears, but geto does. his head lifts immediately but you don't look at him, disappearing upstairs before anyone can stop you.
you trudge to your bedroom, straight to the en suite. the shower helps a little. the warm water and the silence as you scrub salt from your skin and try very hard not to think about how close geto had been in the hallway upstairs. or how badly you wanted him to kiss you.
humiliating.
by the time you finish changing into your university sweatshirt and tiny sleep shorts, exhaustion finally starts creeping in around the edges. the bedroom is dark when you return except for moonlight spilling silver across the floor through the giant windows.
geto isn’t there yet. your stomach twists at the thought but you climb into your side of the bed anyway, pulling the blankets up to your chin while ocean waves crash softly somewhere outside.
you tell yourself not to care, then eventually fall asleep anyway.
when you wake up again, the room is still dark. for one disoriented second you don’t know why your chest feels strange then you glance toward the other side of the bed.
empty. empty?
your brows knit together immediately. the digital clock beside the bed reads 4:07 am. you push yourself upright slowly. “…geto?”
nothing, and the bathroom’s empty too. confused now, you slip quietly out of bed and head downstairs.
the house is silent, dark except for one of the kitchen lights left on.
and there he is. geto's asleep on the downstairs couch, or at least attempting to be. one arm thrown over his eyes, long legs awkwardly cramped against the cushions because the couch is way too short for him, a blanket half falling onto the floor.
your chest tightens. he thought you didn't want him upstairs and guilt floods through you instantly. you carefully walk closer. “geto,” you whisper.
he wakes almost immediately. years of frat-house living apparently killed deep sleep permanently. his arm drops from his face slowly when he realizes it’s you standing there. his hair’s messy, voice rough with sleep. “…hey.”
you hesitate, suddenly nervous again. “why are you down here?”
his eyes flick away briefly. “didn’t wanna make things uncomfortable.”
your heart sinks. “you weren’t,” you say quickly. “i just thought…” you trail off awkwardly.
geto pushes himself upright slowly, watching you carefully in the dark. “thought what?”
you fiddle with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. “that maybe you regretted it. when...we were on the couch.”
his expression changes instantly, softens to something almost confused. “what?”
“upstairs,” you mumble. “when you said i didn’t have to feel weird.”
geto exhales quietly through his nose then drops his head back against the couch cushions. “that is not what i meant.”
heat creeps into your face again. “oh.”
he looks up at you then, eyes all sleepy and honest in the dim blue light. “i was trying to make sure you were okay,” he says quietly. “because i wanted to kiss you.”
your breath catches hard. silence fills the room save for the hum of the fridge, ocean waves somewhere outside and your heartbeat going completely feral.
geto's gaze stays fixed on yours. “and i wasn’t sure if you wanted that too.”
you stare at him for one suspended second. “i thought you were going to.”
his mouth parts slightly, something warm flashing through his expression. “yeah,” he says softly. “i was.”
your pulse feels violent now and you shift your weight nervously. “you should come upstairs.”
geto studies your face carefully for another second like he’s making absolutely sure, then stands. the couch blanket slips forgotten onto the floor while you both just stand there in the dark living room breathing the same air.
when geto’s hand brushes lightly against yours heading toward the stairs, neither of you pulls away. walking beside him somehow feels more intimate than the almost-kiss downstairs. your hand brushes his once on the staircase and suddenly your pulse is trying to escape your body.
neither of you talks much once you reach the bedroom either. it’s painfully awkward now in that fragile post-confession way. you hover near your side of the bed, and geto stands near the dresser rubbing the back of his neck.“…sorry again,” he says quietly.
“for what?”
“all of this being weird.”
you blink at him then laugh softly despite yourself. “you saying that is making it weirder.”
his mouth twitches. “right.”
when you both scramble into bed you face opposite directions, approximately three feet apart. you can physically feel the tension across the mattress. as you stare at the ceiling you're trying very hard not to think about the fact that geto is right there.
same bed, same room, close enough that you can hear his breathing if you focus.
saturday - 10 am
you stir faintly as the sun wakes you up, bright enough to peek through the edges of the blinds. you stir faintly, something heavy resting around your waist. your brows pinch together sleepily.
wait.
you blink your eyes open slowly and realize with immediate horror that sometime during the night, both of you migrated completely across the bed. you’re practically tangled together now, your head tucked against geto’s chest, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist beneath the blankets, one of your legs halfway thrown over his.
before you can even process it fully, geto shifts too, his arm tightening instinctively for half a second before he wakes up enough to realize.
you both freeze then very slowly, geto looks down at you. his hair is completely loose from sleeping now, dark strands falling around his face messily and eyes still heavy with sleep.
his voice comes out rough and groggy when he finally speaks. “...morning.”
his voice sounds unfair, deep and sleepy and warm against the quiet room. you want to choke. instead you stare at him for one embarrassingly long second before scrambling backward so fast you nearly fall off the bed. “good morning!”
too loud. way too loud.
geto pushes himself upright slowly, clearly trying not to laugh.
you’re suddenly acutely aware now of your oversized university sweatshirt riding up slightly from sleep and the tiny shorts you forgot you were wearing. you can feel oil slicking to your skin and you probably look horrible, meanwhile geto looks basically offensively attractive for a man who literally just woke up. dark pools of hair fall over his shoulders, features softened
your nervous system cannot survive this week. “i’m gonna change,” you announce suddenly.
geto blinks once. “…okay.”
you point at him very seriously while backing toward the bathroom. “do not come in there.”
that finally gets a real laugh out of him, low and sleepy. “wasn’t planning on it.”
“good.” you disappear into the bathroom before your dignity can deteriorate further and once inside you stare at your reflection while trying to regain basic human functionality.
you slept wrapped around suguru geto. comfortably.
eventually you change into denim shorts and a fitted tank top before putting your hair up and emerging from the bathroom again.
the bedroom’s empty and for a confusing second you think maybe geto left downstairs already, before movement catches your eye through the balcony doors.
geto’s outside stretching in the early morning sunlight. shirtless. warm golden light spills cross his skin while he stretches one arm over his head lazily, back muscles shifting beneath the sunlight. his sweatpants hang low enough that the sharp v-lines disappearing beneath the waistband are very visible.
extremely visible.
you feel warm all over immediately because sure, you knew geto was attractive. obviously. but this feels actively engineered in a lab to ruin your life specifically.
outside, he rolls his shoulders once before turning slightly and immediately catches you staring. your soul leaves your body as geto pauses then very slowly raises a brow. “…morning again.”
heat floods your face so fast it’s almost violent. you look away instantly.
“you could warn people.”
“about what?”
you gesture vaguely toward him without looking directly.
“that.”
his laugh drifts softly through the open balcony door and when you glance at him again you see how prettily the sun catches against the winding tattoos along his arms.
geto watches your expression carefully and smirks slightly.
you swear you'll die before noon.
the house is (unfortunately) wide awake as you and geto walk downstairs. gojo’s voice echoes through the kitchen before you even hit the last stair. “WHY IS IT SMOKING?”
you immediately close your eyes. “what did you do,” you say, voice dangerously low.
“nothing!”
you walk into the kitchen to find everyone gathered around the coffee machine like it’s a bomb squad situation. steam hisses violently from the side of it and gojo stands there holding the glass pot. “i pressed brew,” he defends.
“with no water in it,” his girlfriend says.
toji looks half asleep at the island. “natural selection should’ve taken him years ago.”
your roommate's eyes narrow immediately as she sees you and geto walk in. her gaze drifts to the living room, specifically the blanket crumpled on the couch and the pillow on the floor.
you grab a mug to avoid eye contact with her, geto moving toward the counter beside you like this is a completely normal morning.
gojo squints suspiciously. “…you two look weird.”
“you always look weird,” you mutter into your juice.
“true but irrelevant.”
“the coffee machine’s dead by the way,” toji interrupts.
“i figured as much,” you sigh, examining the machine with a frown.
“he killed it,” gojo's girlfriend says.
“it was weak,” gojo argues.
“it was a twelve hundred dollar espresso machine,” you say, rubbing a hand over your eyes. "my parents are so going to kill me."
gojo freezes. “it was how much?”
you groan softly, dropping your forehead against the counter. “i’m going back to bed.”
beside you, geto laughs under his breath, low enough only you heard it. your stomach flips and you glance at him accidentally and immediately regret it because his hair's tied loosely back and he's in a fitted black t-shirt that does nothing helpful for your concentration.
plus you know what's under it. worse - you know what it looks like first thing in the morning sunlight.
your brain needs to be chemically sterilized.
everyone slowly migrates toward breakfast eventually while arguing over plans for the day. gojo offers to toast bagels (provided he doesn't break the toaster, too) and your roommate keeps kicking your ankle beneath the island every time you look at geto too long.
“stop that,” you hiss quietly.
“make me.”
you’re still groggy as hell from waking up at four in the morning and emotionally spiraling before sunrise so eventually everyone starts looking at you expectantly when discussion turns toward plans.
“what’s the weather?” choso asks.
you glance out the giant kitchen windows toward the water. clear skies, barely any wind. perfect.
“it’s gonna be a good beach day,” you say, wrapping your hands around your mug (yes, still full of juice. you'd kill for coffee right now). “we can stay down there most of the afternoon.”
gojo pumps a fist. “beach arc continues.”
“then maybe head into town this evening,” you continue. “there’s a boardwalk and some restaurants by the marina.”
“shopping?” your roommate perks up instantly.
“you don’t need more clothes.”
“counterpoint, yes i do.”
“we can do dinner there,” you say. “then come back for the sunset.”
everyone nods along pretty quickly after that but geto’s not really paying attention anymore, because while you’re talking, sleepy and slightly disheveled in your little tank top with your glasses sliding down your nose, sunlight catches against your skin through the kitchen windows.
all he can think about is waking up with you curled against his chest.
you look over toward him mid-sentence.“does that sound okay?”
geto realizes a full second too late that everyone’s waiting for his answer. “…yeah,” he says quietly, eyes still on you. “sounds perfect.”
after breakfast, the second you head upstairs, your roommate and gojo’s girlfriend follow immediately with excited little grins. you barely make it into the bedroom before your roommate shuts the door behind her dramatically.
“spill.”
you blink. “about what.”
both of them stare at you. “y/n,” gojo’s girlfriend says flatly, “there was visible yearning at breakfast.”
“there was not.”
you move toward your suitcase quickly before they can corner you properly. “nothing happened.”
“liar,” your roommate says instantly.
“nothing serious happened.” you push your glasses back up your nose. you ignore their little comments and start sorting through your bikinis instead. “we’re focusing on beachwear now.”
“avoidance,” your roommate whispers solemnly.
“coping mechanism,” gojo’s girlfriend agrees.
you throw a swimsuit at both of them and eventually the three of you end up sitting cross-legged around the open suitcase debating bikini options. “this one’s cute,” your roommate says, holding up a blue floral set.
“i dunno why i packed that one.”
“this one?”
“too bright.”
gojo’s girlfriend suddenly digs deeper into the suitcase before pausing. “…wait.” she lifts a black triangle bikini from the pile. sleek black fabric and a tiny gold charm dangling between the cups.
you laugh nervously. it's smaller than what you typically wear - you prefer more full-coverage, something that doesn't let the plush of your stomach and thighs fully exposed. the top'll push up your tits way more than anything you normally wear.
both girls stare at it reverently like archaeologists uncovering forbidden treasure. “THIS one,” your roommate breathes.
“absolutely this one,” gojo's girlfriend agrees.
you snatch at it immediately. “that’s too...much. i don't -”
“y/n, you're going to look amazing in it, no matter what comments you have to say about yourself or your body,” your roommate says. “you're hot. it's hot. you're going to look good.”
“i’m literally not wearing dental floss to the beach.”
“y/n.”
“what.”
“put it on.”
five minutes later you emerge from the bathroom already regretting every life decision that led here. the bikini really is tiny.
the black fabric contrasts sharply against your skin while the gold charm rests perfectly between your chest. the top pushes everything up unfairly well and the bottoms sit low against your hips with thin strings at the sides.
you instinctively cross your arms slightly. your roommate’s jaw physically drops and gojo’s girlfriend just stares.
“…holy shit,” she says softly.
“you HAVE to wear that.”
“i look insane,” you say, glancing at your feet. "bad insane."
“you look hot.”
heat crawls across your face instantly, and you glance toward the mirror again. okay. maybe it does look good. “it’s more revealing than what i usually wear,” you mumble.
“and you rock it.”
eventually they encourage you to keeping it on and you throw on a loose white cover dress afterward at least, something soft and flowy enough to hide most of the bikini beneath it.
then you start filling your beach bag. book, sunscreen, waterbottle, lip balm, portable charger.
your roommate watches with deep affection. “you pack for the beach like a divorced father.”
“preparation prevents suffering,” you say wisely, and gojo's girlfriend laughs while you shove sunglasses into your hair.
the three of you head downstairs together where the guys are still getting ready. gojo's already shirtless and toji's hoarding chips and choso nearly walks directly into a wall when his girlfriend appears in her bikini.
geto looks up from the kitchen counter when you enter. you feel his gaze drift down your face, down the cover dress you're wearing, and your pulse jumps instantly.
gojo ruins the moment by throwing sunglasses at him. “beach.”
everyone starts heading outside after that. the walk toward the shoreline is warm and breezy, sunlight sifting through dune grass while everybody talks over each other around you. you’re halfway down the road when somebody calls your name suddenly.
you turn instantly, recognizing the voice with a smile. “aaron?”
geto watches as a guy about your age jogs over from the neighboring property, grinning broadly. he's tall, sun-bleached hair, and apparently he knows you very well because he immediately pulls you into a quick hug.
“holy shit,” he laughs. “when’d you get here?”
“yesterday! i didn’t know your family was coming down this week.”
“mom wanted the boat out, even though it's kinda early.”
you smile easily at him - you did practically grow up together, summer after summer.
behind you, your friends have gone suspiciously quiet.
“oh, these are my friends,” you say, gesturing to your group. aaron shakes everyone’s hands easily while you chatter beside him naturally, smiling more openly than you usually do around new people.
geto watches the entire thing in silence and immediately dislikes this guy. he knows it's irrational but you look happy talking to him. not nervous or flustered, just easy and warm and familiar. aaron says something that makes you laugh and geto's jaw tightens.
logically, this means nothing. he knows that, but still. he watches aaron’s hand brush briefly against your arm while talking and suddenly feels the deeply primal urge to throw him into the ocean.
gojo notices instantly, of course, despite being a bumbling oaf most of the time. his eyes slowly widen behind his sunglasses. “he’s jealous,” he whispers as he leans towards choso.
“obviously,” choso whispers back.
the second aaron finally heads back toward his family’s place, the group starts moving again. something's shifted now, though. you notice it almost immediately walking beside geto down the sandy path toward the beach.
he’s quieter. thinking.
gojo notices too, his grin getting increasingly more dangerous every few seconds. eventually he speeds up to walk backward in front of you both. “so,” he says brightly. “beach boyfriend.”
“don’t start,” you sigh.
“he looked rich.”
“his parents are both lawyers and they own three beach houses here.”
“shit, well -”
gojo’s girlfriend drags him away by the arm before he can get worse. bless her.
for a minute it’s just you and geto walking side by side while the others move ahead laughing about something. ocean wind catches softly at your cover dress, your sunglasses rest pushed into your hair.
geto finally speaks. “…you two close?”
you glance over. his expression’s careful, casual sounding. “kinda,” you say. “i only really see him in summers though. it's been a while.”
geto hums once. silence stretches another few steps then before he can stop himself, he asks, “you ever date?”
your brows lift slightly.
geto stutters, “i just mean—”
“no, i know what you mean.” you laugh softly under your breath a little awkwardly now. “not seriously. we messed around a little as teenagers.”
geto goes still. you say it so casually, like it means nothing, and his brain instantly starts supplying images he absolutely does not want. you younger, laughing with that guy at bonfires, swimming together at night.
that guy touching you.
“oh,” he says evenly.
you glance at him sideways. “…you okay?”
“fine.”
liar. he’s absurdly jealous which is insane because he knows he has zero claim over you whatsoever. (and yet he thinks about last night and how you almost kissed and that soft look in your eyes and he feels waves of jealousy wash over him again.)
the thought of anyone else having touched you makes something dark and unpleasant twist low in his stomach. the walk to the beach is silent and the shoreline opens wide before all of you again.
everyone starts setting up camp and the warm sand burns pleasently beneath your feet. umbrellas, chairs, coolers, towels are all placed in motion
toji tries to ram an umbrella into the sand with zero clue what he's doing and you laugh softly, setting your beach bag down near one of the chairs.
geto watches you from a few feet away while pretending to unfold a towel as you reach for the ties of your cover dress.
his brain short-circuits instantly, watching the thin fabric slip from your shoulders. jesus christ, that bikini is devastating.
sleek little triangle top, gold charm catching sunlight perfectly between your chest, tiny straps against your skin. the bottoms sit low on your hips with those little thin side ties and geto physically has to look away for a second because blood rushes south immediately.
fast.
he’s actually in hell because now not only does he remember accidentally seeing your chest upstairs yesterday, but he also has visual confirmation that your body is genuinely engineered to ruin his life specifically.
nearby, your roommate whistles. “see?” she says smugly. “told you.”
heat creeps across your neck while you shove your sunglasses on quickly. “stop making announcements.”
toji glances from you to geto and laughs under his breath. “…dude.”
geto doesn’t answer. he's still staring until toji smacks his shoulder hard enough to jolt him back to reality. “get in the ocean.”
geto blinks. “…what?”
“cold water.”
realization hits instantly and his ears turn red immediately.
“shut the fuck up,” geto mutters. gojo walks by and smirks, shouting no way at the top of his lungs with absolute glee.
you look between all of them confused. “what’s happening?”
“nothing,” geto says too quickly.
toji’s grin turns downright evil. “he just really likes the scenery.”
your face burns alive instantly.
geto looks seconds away from committing homicide. he starts trudging towards the ocean, following everyone who's running towards the water.
choso's girlfriend stops him, pausing with the slyest smile you've ever seen in your life. “y/n needs someone to put sunscreen on her.”
geto stares at her blankly. “…okay?”
your roommate glares at him pointedly. “you dumbass.”
when realization hits, geto goes still, cause you’re standing there in that tiny black bikini looking suddenly very interested in literally anything except him, and now he’s imagining touching sunscreen onto your skin for an extended period of time while already painfully hard.
cool.
great.
awesome.
gojo’s girlfriend physically drags your roommate toward the lake before either of you can escape.
“have fun!” she calls sweetly.
silence settles immediately afterward except for distant waves and screaming from the water where gojo’s already drowning dramatically. you stand awkwardly beside the chairs clutching the sunscreen bottle and geto pushes a few loose strands of hair back from his face slowly before reaching for it.
his fingers brush yours. your pulse jumps. (his does too.)
“…so,” he says.
“mhm.”
“…where do you want it?”
you choke, brain interpresting that in the worst way possible.
geto's eyes widen slightly. “i didn’t mean it like that.” his ears are turning red again.
“right,” you mumble weakly. god, the tension between you lately feels actively lethal.
geto clears his throat once. “i just meant sunscreen.”
“i know.”
“okay.”
you very quietly mumble, “…just put it everywhere.” you realize how that sounds approximately one second too late.
geto shuts his eyes briefly like he’s asking the universe for strength then gestures toward the towel laid out beneath one of the umbrellas.
“you can, erm, lay down. or stand. dunno.”
you nod quickly, and the sand's warm beneath the towel as you settle carefully onto your stomach. geto kneels beside you, close that you can hear the bottle of sunscreen click open. your heartbeat pounds harder instantly.
“tell me if i’m using too much,” he says quietly.
“okay.”
cool sunscreen hits your shoulders first, then his hands. geto’s fingers spread the lotion slowly across your skin, warm palms gliding carefully along your shoulders and upper back.
he’s trying very hard to stay normal about this but your skin’s warm from the sun and soft beneath his hands and when you shiver slightly when his thumbs press near the base of your neck it certainly doesn’t help his…situation.
geto swallows hard. “…cold?”
“no.” your voice comes out quieter than usual.
you hear him exhale softly through his nose and his hands move lower slowly, fingers spreading sunscreen across the middle of your back now, dragging lower and lower inch by inch. it feels intimate, the kind of slow touch that settles beneath your skin.
you wonder, briefly, what your roommate, or gojo’s girlfriend, or choso, or any of them really, think of the sight (if they’re looking) geto leaning over you beneath the umbrella with his hair falling loose around his face slightly while his hands move slowly across your skin like he’s memorizing it. you lying there visibly tense every time he touches you.
“you missed a spot,” you mumble weakly, pointing toward your side mostly just to say something.
mistake. big huge mistake because you throb as geto’s hand slides carefully along your waist, thumb brushing just beneath the curve of your ribs. as your breath catches so does his and his hand lingers one dangerous second too long against your side before pulling away.
“…done,” he says roughly.
you sit up slowly, face to face with him at extremely close range. his hair’s falling into his eyes slightly from the wine, jaw tight, expression unreadable except for the very obvious tension simmering beneath it.
the moment snaps apart before either of you can do something catastrophically stupid. “y/n!” gojo’s voice echoes from the water.
you jerk backward slightly like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t and geto clears his throat immediately and pushes to his feet a little too fast. “…i’m gonna get in the lake.”
“okay,” you say too quickly.
he nods once before practically escaping into the water, leaving you sitting there afterward feeling completely disoriented. your skin still tingles everywhere he touched so to attempt to distract yourself you grab your book from your beach bag.
it doesn’t work. you read the same sentence six times in a row without processing a single word because all you can think about is the feeling of geto’s hands slowly sliding over your waist.
you’re hopeless.
your roommate and gojo’s girlfriend eventually wander back up from the shoreline dripping water everywhere and both immediately clock your expression.
“wow y/n,” your roommate says sweetly.
“don’t.”
“your sunscreen is blended sooo thoroughly.”
gojo’s girlfriend nods solemnly. “very even application.”
you close your book dramatically over your face. “i hate both of you.”
“he looked one touch away from cardiac arrest.”
“i’m serious,” you say, voice muffled from beneath the pages.
“and you looked like you were gonna melt into the towel,” your roommate adds wisely. you groan into the book.
out in the lake, geto’s standing waist-deep in freezing water, mind still scrambled, because shit, he can still feel the shape of your waist beneath his hands. he can still remember the tiny sound you made when he touched your side.
he thinks you might have noticed his situation downstairs. the water helps a little, at least, and beside him, gojo suddenly appears floating on his back. “you know,” he says conversationally, “you were sporting a fucking hard-on.”
geto nearly drowns him. “what the fuck is wrong with you.”
“you could see it from across the beach.”
“why were you looking, you piece of shit.”
“because you looked stupid.”
toji barks out a laugh nearby. “i’ve never seen you this bad over anybody.”
geto drags both hands through his wet hair with visible frustration. he knows they're right. this is bad. worse than bad. you're going to be upstairs sharing a bed every night walking around in tiny little outfits and looking at him with those shy nervous eyes whenever he gets too close.
from your spot in your chair on the beach you glance to the shoreline again over the edge of your book. you make the mistake of seeing geto standing waist-deep in the water with his wet hair pushed back.
by late afternoon, you're all making your way to the marina, everyone sun-kissed and buzzed off coolers. there's cute little boutiques with sun-faded signs, ice cream stands, tourists wandering around with shopping bags, boats bobbing against the docks while seagulls scream overhead.
it should be relaxing but instead, everyone’s acting weird. well, not everyone - gojo is still normal, unfortunately, which means he’s being loud as shit and trying on ugly sunglasses in every store while his girlfriend tells him he looks like a divorced dad. toji's carrying everyone's bags very bedgrudgingly and choso’s girlfriend keeps linking arms with him and dragging him into little souvenir stores.
meanwhile you and geto keep ending up next to each other by complete accident, which is to say, absolutely on purpose by everyone else. you’re walking along the docks eating gelato at one point when your roommate suddenly grabs your arm. “come into this store with me.” before you can respond, she’s already yanking you inside.
you blink, looking back where geto’s left standing outside with gojo and toji before you get tugged into a store.
gojo smirks immediately. “you gonna keep staring at the door like that?”
geto doesn’t even look at him. “shut up.”
“bro.”
“satoru.”
“you’ve had the expression of a war widow since sunscreen.”
by dinner, if possible, things have gotten even weirder. you all end up at this marina-side restaurant right on the water, string lights overhead and music drifting faintly from somewhere nearby.
the seating arrangement was personally made to ensure you don't survive the meal, obviously, what with gojo and his girlfriend together, choso and his girlfriend together, toji sitting like he’d rather die, and you and geto next to each other. close enough that your knees almost brush beneath the table.
drinks come, everyone's talking about the beach tomorrow and whether they should rent paddleboards. "we have the budget, but everyone has to pitch in," you say, which makes toji groan.
gojo says, "i saw that you can get a boat tour? we could go fishing or something."
you're all talking animatedly (save for geto, who's oddly quiet and keeps looking at you from the corner of his eye) then the waiter comes over. he's probably around your guys' age, eyes skimming over gojo's girlfriend tucked under gojo's arm, choso's girlfriend pressed against choso's shoulder, then you.
sitting alone, or rather alone-adjacent. “and what can i get for you?” the waiter asks you with a smile that lingers a little too long.
you look up awkwardly. “um…”
“good choice on the drink,” he says after glancing at your glass. “not everybody appreciates taste.”
your roommate nearly chokes on her water and you stare at the waiter awkwardly. “thanks?”
the waiter grins. “you guys visiting?”
you can physically feel everyone at the table stop listening to their own conversations. geto’s gone silent beside you, more silent then earlier. “yeah,” you say after a beat.
“nice,” the waiter says, leaning slightly against the table. “hope someone’s shown you the good spots around town.”
you laugh weakly because what the fuck do you even say to that. “uh…”
“hey, if you need someone to show you around, i get off at ten.”
“i think i'll get the chicken parm?” you say, laughing nervously. “please.”
“or maybe i could just give you my number,” the waiter says with a smile that makes your toes curl in disgust.
geto finally looks up, slowly, expression completely unreadable except for the fact that he looks deeply unimpressed. “she’s very clearly not interested.”
silence. complete silence. you even stop breathing, and the waiter blinks, looks between you and geto. “…sorry, man,” he says with an awkward little laugh, hands up. “can’t blame me for trying.”
geto doesn’t even smile. “yeah.” he pauses before saying, coldly, “just get the food and go.”
the waiter straightens. “alright.” he scribbles something on his pad quickly, then mutters, “didn’t know your boyfriend was so serious,” and walks away.
the silence is nuclear. nobody says anything, nobody moves, and your face is so hot you think you might actually die.
because boyfriend.
because geto didn’t correct him.
because nobody corrected him.
gojo is staring at his plate so hard his shoulders are shaking. your roommate won’t look at you. choso’s girlfriend is chewing on her straw like she’s witnessing live television and toji actually says nothing for once in his miserable life.
you risk one glance sideways to see geto staring straight ahead, jaw tight, ears slightly red.
you immediately look away.
dinner proceeds in the most painful silence known to man.
conversation starts back up eventually, but it’s all stilted and everyone keeps exchanging looks when they think you and geto aren't noticing.
you barely taste your food. geto says maybe twelve words the entire meal.
when the bill comes everyone’s kind of ready to leave purely to escape the tension. checks get split, gojo grabs his and his girlfriend’s without looking. choso pays for his girlfriend’s too.
toji stares at his own bill like it insulted his bloodline.
“why the fuck is grilled salmon thirty dollars.”
“because you ordered grilled salmon,” gojo says.
you reach for your wallet quickly.
“i got mine.”
“same,” geto says at the exact same time.
your fingers brush awkwardly near the bill tray, both of you jerking back like you touched fire. chairs scrape back and everyone starts filing out onto the marina walkway under the string lights and the tension between you and geto follows like a third person walking right between you.
saturday - 10 pm
on the drive back to the beach house, gojo’s girlfriend controls the aux while everybody talks intermittently about dinner and shopping bags and whether toji could survive prison after complaining about restaurant prices loud enough for the waiter to hear.
but underneath all of it sits that awful electric awareness between you and geto. every glance feels more loaded than before now, especially after the boyfriend comment. especially because a small part of you didn't want to correct it.
you stare out the window most of the drive pretending the cool night air coming through the cracked glass is enough to settle your heartbeat. (newsflash - it isn't).
when you finally pull into the driveway, the sky’s gone deep navy overhead, stars scattered bright across the water beyond the dunes. gojo stretches dramatically exiting the car. “i feel alive. this was a good day.”
“you screamed at a seagull today,” his girlfriend says.
“well, it was disrespectful. did you see how it took the hotdog out of my hand -”
everyone slowly filters toward the back deck unloading leftovers and drinks while the ocean crashes softly somewhere below. you’re halfway through carrying cups into the kitchen when gojo’s girlfriend suddenly says, “bonfire?”
you all immediately agree and you're honestly grateful for the distraction, because if you had to go straight upstairs right now and exist in a quiet bedroom with geto after today, you think your nervous system might actually collapse.
outside, the fire crackles warmly against the cool night air while everyone settles into chairs scattered around the pit.
you end up directly across from geto. the flames flicker gold across his face while he leans back slightly in his chair listening to gojo argue about horror movies beside him.
he’s not really listening, you can tell. every few seconds his eyes drift back to you again, and the look in them makes your stomach twist painfully.
yearning.
there’s genuinely no other word for it anymore. it’s there in every glance and every pause and every second too long his eyes stay on your face. you feel warm all over despite the ocean breeze.
around the fire, conversation drifts lazily between everyone else toji and gojo arguing and your roommate curled against choso’s side and music humming faintly from someone’s speaker. nobody comments on the way you and geto keep looking at each other. they just quietly notice, giving you both space.
across the fire, geto feels like he’s losing his mind a little.
you look beautiful tonight, your hair slightly windblown, oversized hoodie on, firelight dancing warm across your skin while you smile softly at something choso says.
he can’t stop looking at you and doesn’t really want to. his chest physically aches with it now, this awful wanting.
god, geto’s never been this gone over anybody before.
when yawns start appearing, everybody heads inside. gojo drags his girlfriend upstairs and your roommate shooting you one deeply knowing look before disappearing too.
it’s just you and geto left outside.
you crouch near the firepit gathering empty bottles quietly while embers glow soft orange against the dark.
geto watches you for a second.“…wanna walk to the beach?”
your heart stumbles immediately. “sure.”
the shoreline’s almost completely dark except for moonlight silvering the waves. sand cool beneath your feet, wind soft against your skin. you walk side by side in silence at first. comfortable silence this time. above you, the stars stretch endlessly bright across the sky untouched by city lights.
you stop eventually near the waterline where waves curl around your ankles gently before retreating again.
geto looks at you like he’s trying to memorize something. like his chest hurts with it. like every glance all semester somehow led here, to you, moonlight catching softly against your face when you tilt your head upward to the stars.
beautiful.
the thought, though not new, hits him so hard it almost steals his breath. “…you know what the worst part is?” he says quietly.
you glance over. “what?”
geto laughs softly once, self-aware and helpless. “i spent months trying not to want you this bad.”
your breath catches yet his eyes stay fixed on yours, steady and honest in a way that makes your pulse pound harder. “and now i don’t think i’ll ever stop.”
something in your chest melts completely. there's no teasing in his voice, just aching sincerity. geto looks at you like you're something precious and terrifying and like you're everything all at once, and suddenly you can’t stand the distance anymore.
so you kiss him.
his breath catches sharply against your mouth before he melts instantly, completely. one hand slides gently against your waist while the other cups your face like he can’t believe you’re real, kissing you back slow and deep beneath the stars. warm, careful for approximately two seconds before all that pent-up wanting finally cracks open.
you feel him exhale shakily against your lips. it feels a lot like relief.
you kiss him back just as deep, hands sliding up into his hair you've been aching to hold for months now, tangling your fingers there, and he groans into your mouth, pulling you more flush against him.
your toes curl from the sand when you feel his hardness poking against the top of your stomach.
from one kiss?
when he pulls back it's reluctant, his hands cupping your face and staring into your eyes like you're the only person he's ever seen.
"should we go back?" you ask softly, and he nods immediately. your lips are tingling, geto's hand laced tightly with yours like he physically can't let go now that he finally has you. every few steps he glances at you again with that same dazed expression that makes your stomach flip violently.
like he still can’t believe you kissed him first.
the house is dark when you slip inside, quiet, everyone asleep in their rooms already. you barely make it through the kitchen before geto pulls you gently against him again, kissing you hard enough to steal the breath from your lungs.
you laugh softly into it, hands catching against his chest while he kisses you like he’s trying to memorize the feeling.
months of tension finally snapping all at once.
you nearly stumble into the staircase together trying to stay quiet and by the time you reach the bedroom, both of you are flushed and breathless and grinning a little helplessly.
the door clicks shut behind you and suddenly geto’s hands are on your waist again and your back hits the wall softly beside the door while he kisses you deeper, warm and hungry. your fingers slide automatically into his hair again and he makes this low sound against your mouth that nearly destroys you.
“fuck,” he murmurs quietly against your lips. you can feel how nervous he is underneath it too though, how his hands careful despite how badly he wants you. you tug at the hem of his shirt first and geto pulls back just enough to drag it over his head quickly before immediately kissing you again.
shirtless in the dim moonlit bedroom, he looks unfair. your eyes stare at the tattoos winding along his arms and chest, dark hair loose around his face from the beach wind.
you stare for half a second too long because geto's cheeks flush slightly. (this, of course, makes him infinitely more attractive.)
“don’t look at me like that,” he mutters.
you laugh breathlessly while your hands slide down his chest, his muscles tensing beneath your touch instantly. his fingers hook gently into the hem of your hoodie, hesitation flickering briefly across his face. you nod softly, and that's all he needs.
geto pulls the hoodie over your head slowly and when it drops to the floor he just stares quietly. his eyes drag across your skin with open awe now, nothing hidden in his expression anymore.
this is how he wanted to see you. not startled or accidental. wanted.
heat blooms across your entire body under that look and geto steps closer again slowly, one hand settling against your waist while the other brushes lightly up your side like he’s still convincing himself you’re real. “…pretty girl,” he says softly.
you kiss him again immediately because otherwise you think you might combust, your fingers fumbling with the button of his pants while geto's lips start to press kisses down your jaw.
your back eventually hits the mattress gently as you both stumble toward the bed, and for one second he hovers over you breathing hard while moonlight spills silver across the sheets behind him. he's gazing at you with those lidded eyes, his boxers strained as his hands run up your stomach slowly, savouring, until he's cupping your tits in his hands, squeezing with gentle reverence.
“…i wanna take my time with you,” he says quietly. one hand moves to slide up your thigh while he properly settles over you, his other elbow braced beside your head. one of his legs slips naturally between yours and the pressure makes your breath catch immediately.
a faint smugness flickers briefly through his expression now, that quiet confident energy finally surfacing. “there she is,” he murmurs softly.
heat floods your face instantly and geto kisses you again before you can hide from it. your lips, deeply, tongue sliding against yours, brushing along your mouth. then your jaw, then your neck. his mouth lingers just beneath your ear, sucking gently, while his hand drifts carefully along your waist, thumb brushing slow circles into your skin.
“fuck,” he mutters quietly against your throat. his voice sounds wrecked already.
your fingers slide through his hair, tugging lightly without thinking, and geto exhales sharply against your neck before lifting his head to look at you. dark eyes and flushed cheeks and hair falling loose around his face.
he looks gone.
completely gone for you.
his hand smooths slowly along your waist again before drifting higher, fingertips tracing along your side with almost unbearable patience. your breathing stutters when he holds your tits again, kneading them once before rolling your stiffened nipples between his fingers.
“you okay?” he asks softly.
you nod quickly and he kisses you again while his thumbs slowly brush over sensitive skin, drawing another shaky breath from you. the sound goes straight through him - geto's spent months imagining this. wondering what you'd sound like, how you'd react to him touching you.
(the little, jealous part of his brain remembers aaron. he shoves the thought away immediately.)
reality is infinitely worse for his self control. you squirm slightly beneath him and his leg presses more firmly between yours automatically.
your breath catches harder this time and geto looks at you, something a little darker simmering beneath his eyes. “that feel good?” he murmurs quietly.
you hide your face briefly against his shoulder. “…maybe.”
his laugh comes soft against your hair. “maybe?”
heat floods your face when he tilts your chin back toward him gently. “use your words, pretty girl.”
your stomach twists and you nod once. “yeah.”
“yeah what?”
you stare at him in disbelief. “you’re annoying.”
he grins properly for the first time all night. “and you’re avoiding the question.” before you can answer, he kisses you again, swallowing the tiny embarrassed sound you make while his hand drifts lower along your thigh slowly.
your fingers curl against his shoulders when his mouth returns to your neck again, kissing lower this time while his hand squeezes gently at your thigh. when his hands defly dip into the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down, you moan quietly, head turning to the side.
he makes you so nervous and excited your heart feels like it's going to lurch out of your chest.
"can i touch you here, pretty girl?" he murmurs, fingers sliding along your inner thighs until they ghost over your cotton panties. if you'd known you'd end up like..this tonight, youd've chosen a more tasteful pair of underwear.
"please," you whisper, pulling him to your mouth as his fingers press against your clothed cunt, applying just enough pressure to make you mewl into his lips. you feel him smile, pushing your panties to the side before running a finger through your folds.
"you're wet," he chuckles before pushing his finger in, crooking it against your spongey insides. your head falls back against the pillow, hands digging into his back.
"oh my god, geto," you whimper, lips parting.
"suguru," he corrects, pushing another digit in, curling them deep enough to find the gooey spot that has your nails making crescent against his arms.
"suguru, please, 's so good," you babble, thrusting your hips to meet his hand.
he stills for a moment at the sound of his name on your lips. how you moan his name so prettily, begging for more. he leans down, kissing you hard, fingers moving faster and faster inside you, the sound lewd and so dirty and buzzing right to his crotch.
geto feels how you clench around his fingers, and he swallows thickly at the thought of how you'll take his cock. he groans, low and wrecked, capturing your nipple between his lips, teeth grazing along it slightly.
your head's dizzy, stars behind your eyes, gazing at geto and how he's sucking little bruises along your tits, up your neck, down your stomach. constellations of bite marks across your body.
"suguru, i—i'm close," you say, voice breaking. his eyes darken and he thumbs tiny circles over your clit, his two - no, three - fingers curling against all the right spots inside your core.
when you cum, body pulsing hard and hot in waves that make you tingle all over, geto groans, fingering you slowly until your breathing evens. the sight of you coming undone for him has him hardening impossibly more in his boxers, now damp at the front with precum.
you're panting below geto and your hand inches to his boxers, itching to tug them off. "you sure?" he asks quietly, restraint obvious in his voice.
"i'm sure, suguru," you say softly, kissing him again, palming over his boxers. he lets out a strained sound as you reach to pull them down and he quickly obliges, shrugging them off.
suguru geto, in all of his naked glory, is the most beautiful man you've ever seen.
you're rather partial to his pretty, leaking cock, too.
your eyes trace over the vein that runs along one side, the flushed, mushroomed dip, slick with precum, the thick shaft. how it twitches slightly under your gaze, hard and angled up towards his abs. you watch in a daze as he pumps himself slowly, his lips parted, watching you sprawled out so prettily for him, your hair like a halo around your head as you lay there.
you watch his gaze drift down your body, down past your tits, down past the splattering of marks he's left across practially every square inch of your skin. down to your pussy, still slick from your orgasm.
you squirm under geto's face and he tuts, leaning down and pressing his tip to your core. "don't have to be nervous, pretty girl," he says, kissing the side of your neck. his cock brushes against your folds and you both moan quietly.
geto's forehead drops to yours as one of his hands hooks through your thighs, pushing it up as he pushes in slowly. you wince at the pressure, eyes watering slightly - none of the men you've been with have been this...proportionate. he's quick to wipe the tears from your eyes, kissing your cheeks softly, jaw tight as he pushes in more, and more, passing each wall of muscle with a grunt.
"you're squeezing me, y/n, shit," he manages, pushing your thigh higher to deepen the angle. when he finally bottoms out his eyes roll back and you whine.
loud.
geto pushes his thumb into your mouth, his hand cupping your face, and you suck on it gently, face contorting with pleasure as he starts to thrust slowly, struggling to fit his cock back in when he pulls out.
"so tight," he groans raggedly, and all you can do is moan in response, his thumb still in your mouth, his other hand still warm against your thigh, sliding up to squeeze your waist. when geto manages to set a slow, steady pace, he's grunting every time he thrusts in fully, watching your hands grip the sheets desperately.
"right there, suguru," you moan, muffled against his thumb.
"here, pretty girl?" he rumbles, pistoning his cock deep and faster now, brushing your cervix with every thrust.
you nod, babbling incoherently, tugging his hair, holding his biceps, wrapping around his neck, touching everywhere you can and he lowers himself, chest pressed to yours. your tits soft against his skin, your tongue swirling around his thumb.
he holds you reverently, kneading the plush of your thighs as you clench around him, chasing another orgasm. you pull his thumb out of your mouth with a pop, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the digit. "suguru," you whimper, "suguru, suguru, suguru—"
"yeah, i know," he coos, thrusting so deep inside you you can see where he pokes at your stomach, the bulge bumping against your skin every time his cock presses deep in your cunt. "look at that, pretty girl. taking me sooo good, yeah? so good for me."
blood rushes hot through your body, liquid heat coursing through your veins, and your back arches off the bed, pulling geto impossibly closer to you as you moan softly into his ear, biting his neck as you feel your climax build and build and build.
"are you close? 'm gonna cum," he says, voice rough and eyes blown wide. "you feel me here?" he presses his hand to where his cock bulges against your stomach, the pressure stealing the air from your lungs.
"inside," you breathe, panting now. "cum in me, suguru."
and so he does, seconds later, because your voice saying those words along with his name fully break him. he holds you against him as he cums, pulsing thick and hot spurts of release, coating your walls. he rubs circles over your nipples as you climax, too, with a cracked moan of his name and your hands tangled in his hair.
after, you’re both a little breathless, tangled in rumpled sheets with the balcony doors cracked open enough for the ocean air to drift in. geto just stays close, one arm wrapped around your waist while his fingers lazily trace little patterns against your skin like he doesn’t quite know what to do with all this softness in his chest. you’re tucked against him, cheek pressed to his shoulder, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat finally slowing down. “…you okay?” he asks after a while, voice low and sleep-rough now.
you tilt your head to look at him, how pretty he looks with his pink lips and flushed cheeks. you smile softly. “you’ve asked me that like eight times.”
“i know.”
“paranoid?”
he huffs a quiet laugh, looking at the ceiling. “a little.”
your heart squeezes and you lift yourself enough to kiss him softly. geto smiles into it, eyes closing briefly. "you like me," he murmurs, and you bury your face in his shoulder so he can't see you smiling.
he helps you clean up, gently rubbing a warm cloth along your inner thighs where his cum's dried, hands you your hoodie, tucks blankets around you when you both collapse into bed. when you instinctively curl toward the far side like you did the first night, geto just blinks at you. "...seriously?"
you look over. "what?" and he wordlessly lifts an arm. your stomach flips and you slide back over, letting him pull you into his chest. his chin rests lightly on top of your head, one hand smoothing once down your back.
sometime in the middle of the night, you both fall asleep smiling.
sunday - 8 am
the next morning feels surreal. when you wake, blinking sleepily, you realize two things immediately. one: you're basically half on top of geto. two: he's already awake, watching you. the second your eyes meet, he smiles, small and sleepy and completely soft. "...hi," you mumble.
"hi." his voice is still rough with sleep and you both just stare at each other for a second like idiots then start laughing quietly for no reason at all.
everything feels weirdly giddy, soft. you brush hair out of his face, he catches your wrist and kises your palm. as you both get dressed you exhange stupid little smiles the entire time.
however, when you both head downstairs together, something awful starts to creep into your brain. there's no way anyone heard, right...? gojo's girlfriend is a notoriously heavy sleeper, though you don't know much about how gojo sleeps...toji and choso and your roommate, being downstairs, couldn't have heard anything at all. and you weren't that loud.
the living room comes into view where choso's sitting drinking coffee (from a new, temporary machine you bought at the marina yesterday). when he sees you and geto walk down the stairs he goes tomato red and your soul leaves your body. beside you, geto's trying so hard to act normal.
"morning," he says in the most suspiciously casual voice ever.
choso makes a sound that is not a word. "...morning." he looks away so fast he nearly spills coffee on himself. you stare at him, horrified. there is no way. there is absolutely no way they heard anything. they couldn't have.
before you can spiral further, gojo strolls in from the kitchen, looking smug for no reason. "good morning!" he says brightly. you narrow your eyes immediately. never trust that tone. he starts making coffee, chatting casually about breakfast plans like a completely normal person. too normal.
geto relaxes as gojo stirs sugar into his cup. takes a sip, then says, "so."
you feel the danger immediately. gojo glances over with the smile of a man about to ruin lives. " 'cum in me , suguru'?" he says thoughtfully. "that's the best you got?"
you swear time stops. geto goes completely motionless, full red ears to collarbone. your body leaves this earthly plane. choso coughs so hard he nearly dies on the couch. from the back porch, where you now see your roommate, gojo's girlfriend, and toji watching with rapt attention, they all burst laughing.
which means. oh my god.
you stare blankly at the wall in front of you and geto slowly turns toward gojo. "i'm going to kill you."
gojo raises both hands, grinning. "hey, don't shoot the messenger. walls are thin, lover boy."
you make a strangled noise and bury your face into your hands. somehow, impossibly, gojo makes it worse. "also," he says, taking another casual sip, "the name thing was kinda hot. personal fave detail."
"SATORU."
"WHAT? i'm being supportive!"
a/n ~ did u cry when they kissed? no? just me blubbering like a baby writing this? ...
▶︎︎︎ Feelin' On My Body (starring . various jjk men)
synopsis . In which you and your partner finally agree to free use. pairings (separate) . Sukuna x f!reader, Geto x f!reader, Gojo x f!reader, Nanami x f!reader, & Choso x f!reader.
content . afab!reader, free use, somnophillia, modern au, oral sex, pussydrunk men, fingering, established relationships, dirty talk, manhandling, rough sex, degrading, unprotected sex, begging, choking, size kink(s), exhibitionism, throat fucking, pussy slapping, desperate men, thigh fucking, pervertedness, whining, them being overlyyy obsessed, praise, a bit of nipple play, filth, implied cum eating, etc.
word count . 8.8k || author's note: a singular twt vid inspired this post (technically sukuna’s part but eh) and i got a lil carried away in some bits (gulp)! banner art from "hachisuka's family kotoriboko" <3
☆ Sukuna Ryomen
He’s woken up to his cock engulfed in something all warm ‘n wet, a sinfully slick tongue lathering up the side of his shaft—decorating his most throbbing vein in a sheeny gloss of saliva.
The thick pink of his brows begin to furrow as his brain struggles to depart itself from sleep, groggy eyes peeling open, and ears picking up on the nasty gagging ‘n swallowing coming from below.
When Sukuna looks down, he sees a head under the covers bobbing back and forth and back ‘n forth. Then he feels your mouth swallowing up his cock, the tip knocking into the very depths of your throat with the way he wastes no time in thrusting his hips forward.
A big hand comes to the back of your head over the thin sheet covering your face and you feel him hold you still as he instantly starts fucking your mouth.
“Why didn’t we agree on this sooner?” His bellowing morning voice breaks out into the wet silence, “Fuck, what a slutty tongue. Do you always wake up like this? All hungry for some cock?”
“M-Mhmm,” You squirm, throating his length with great fervor as his sudden thrusts take you by surprise.
Although you can’t see it, Sukuna flashes a wide grin before pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth and letting his brow furrow.
“Yeahh, I bet you do.” The man rasps, fingertips pressing into your head a little firmer, “You’ve probably wanted me to fuck your mouth first thing in the morning like this so many times, hm?”
Your throat tightens around him before you try tugging your head away, only to be stopped by a low grunt rumbling out of him.
“Ohhh, don’t take this away from me now. Come closer, let me give my wife’s throat a proper stretch.” Sukuna rasps heavily, a wet slick of precum dribbling out against the center of your tongue. You then swirl the oral muscle around his cock and feel it twitch in reaction. “Mhmm, love it when you spoil me like this.”
You can’t see it but your husband’s got the biggest grin on his face, cheeks tinted in a rosy hue and breath growing heavier by the second. His hips buck a bit harder and you could feel his rhythm steadily growing erratic as his cock swells further against the tight walls of your throat.
Thick spurts of salty precum flood into your mouth as you happily slurp over every ridge and vein pulsing down his dick. As your lips kiss his base, your nose is quickly left buried into the coarse hairs of pink at his groin. Your eyes roll further back into your skull and you release a moan in between your desperate sucks.
A guttural groan is ripped straight from his chest as his fingers begin to twist into the sheet over your head, anchoring your mouth in place just to feel the way your throat struggles around the thick girth of his cock. His tip smooches a little deeper and you're left to gag softly as a breath gasp jumps out of him.
Sukuna has always looved head, so to have you waking him up like this was nothing more than a wet dream come true.
One last thrust into your mouth takes place before there's a rope of warm cum pouring down your throat. His hand gets impossibly heavier against the back of your head and you swear you hear him choke before uttering, "Milk me, y-yes. Fuck, s'good."
Then a slight arch forms in his back as you swallow everything flooding into your mouth, earning a sinful purr out of his throat just before the thin sheet yanked away in one swift motion. Your flushed face and swollen lips are left exposed to his gaze and you try not to smile at how flushed his face is.
"Show me," Sukuna murmurs with a carefully cocked brow.
You obediently open your mouth and lull your tongue out flat to display the emptiness on it—no evidence of him ruining your throat left aside from the glistening traces of spit sheening over your lips.
The sight of you like this first thing in the morning doesn't fail in the slightest to have his cock twitching right back to life as if you'd never sucked him off to begin with. Sukuna's never had a long refactory period but fuck, you didn't think his cock would be curving up for your attention that quickly.
With a brash grin on his face, your husband casually gestures his hand your way as if to tell you to take care of him again. He's sure your mouth and throat are already tired but it'd be cute to actually see you struggle on his—
You're cutting off his train of thought by swallowing up his dick without the slightest bit of struggle. The way your mouth slops past his thick tip and suctions his length in to the deepest corners of your throat has Sukuna choking.
The moment you hear him do so, you flick your eyes up at him and let your tongue slather against the prominently throbbing vein resting at the left underside of his cock. Sukuna's hand curls into the sheet he'd pulled off of your head just moments ago and he weakly pushes his hips up and then tips his head over to the side.
In doing so, he just barely catches sight of how his dick is outlined against the clenching muscles of your throat.
"Fuckkk, that's it." He praises hoarsely before moving his shaky hands to the sides of your face. Then he steadies you completely and maintains eye contact with you for a couple seconds, smirk widening out across his face. "Swallow my cock juuust like that," Sukuna coos in between the next few slow rolls of his hips.
His hands tighten against the your face before he starts fucking himself into your mouth again, quickly picking up his once shallow pace, and letting his brows furrow at the sight. He watches closely as your eyes gloss over and specifically waits for you to gag loudly around his dick before he smiles.
Then Sukuna starts nodding as if to let you know he's about to cum and you don't think there's anything sexier than the face he makes every time he does. His brows would twist upward and his jaw falls open, bottom lip quivering ever so slightly while a louddd groan bellows out of his throat.
The feel of warm cum flooding down your gullet is just enough to serve as some form of breakfast for the morning and you're entirely content with that. Your husbands hips are relentless as he fucks his second load das deep as he can and you try your best to swallow every drop just as you did the first time.
Once Sukuna pulls out, you're finally allowed a moment to gasp and cough a couple times while he slumps back against the pillows.
It's quiet for only a few seconds before his head rolls over to spare you a glance and then his hand reaches out to cup your jaw and tilt your face up. Your lips are all swollen and slick, throat still tensing from the proper stretching he just gifted you with.
He thumbs at your bottom lip and then parts it to inspect the insides of your mouth again.
Making sure to whisper, “S’pretty,” as if to not let that go to your head and then moving to haul you up by your arm so he can lean in and kiss you—shamelessly licking at the corners of your mouth and capturing the few drops of his cum that somehow failed to run down your throat.
After quickly devouring your mouth to replace the taste of his cock with his tongue, his hands are felt at your waist, and he tugs you impossibly closer before hugging you. The gesture is unexpected—despite your many years of marriage—but his next few words make it all make a lot more sense to you.
“Next time, I should like to wake up and see you on top of me," Your husband demands.
You stare at him all innocently, “I dunno about all that, Sukuna.”
His somewhat affectionate stare quickly fades into a sharp glare, “I wasn’t asking.”
“Oh.”
☆ Geto Suguru
As soon as you sat up one morning, something thick ‘n sticky began to ooze out of you, warm rivulets of cum trickling down your inner thighs. The panties you had on the night prior? Gone, vanished without a trace. Your boyfriend of many years? Sound asleep next to you!
Just as you shift slightly, feeling the slick mess between your legs, the man in question begins to stir awake and releases a soft hum just as his eyes flutter open. Your gazes meet once he props himself up on one elbow, his eyes dropping before yours get the chance to as he catches the evidence of his indulgence seep out of you.
"Morning, sweet girl," He hums rather innocently before leaning up just to kiss at your cheek and whisper, "I left a little something inside you while you were sleeping.” Geto points out casually, “Hope you don’t mind.”
Truth be told, part of him hoped you would mind. He hopes you’d scold him for being soo perverted, despite the fact that you’re the one who told him you wanted him to use you whenever, even if you were asleep.
He hardly waited two days after receiving that consent of yours before he was fucking you while you dreamt of god knows what.
Even seeing you under the gentle glow of the morning's light, it's all he can think about. The way he'd spread your legs apart with insistent hands, feeling your unaware frame fall exactly how he needed it to whilst he positioned himself between your thighs.
Geto stuffed the thick head of his cock into your sleeping pussy, letting each inch stretch you out nice 'n slowly, your welcoming walls hugging him with a sloppy heat that made his breath hitch. Drool seeped from the corner of your lips as you readjusted yourself in your sleep, eyes remaining closed, and lashes fanning slightly against your cheeks.
The first thrust into you almost made him feel bad, considering how your body had rocked forward and your cunt clenched ever so sweetly around him as if to gasp.
“You’re s’good to me,” Geto mumbled into the dark room, “F-Fuck, look at you…” His hand went caressing across the side of your face before he tilted his head, “Don’t even know I’m inside you right now, huh?”
He couldn’t help but reel his hips back as he caught the faintest scrunch in your nose. Then he leaned over your body a bit, caging you underneath him and doing his best to hold back from fucking you like he really wanted to. Even though you weren’t awake to make fun of him for it, he still didn’t wanna cum too soon.
Geto’s cock plunged in a little deeper—slathering right against that spot he knows normally has your body arching away from him as if you couldn’t take it, “Would it be bad if I kept going til’ you woke up? Mngh.. you’d probably like that too much.”
Just then, your pussy decides to respond with a ringing squelch! around his cock as he bottoms out. You’re so wet around him that even the dark silks of hair decorating the skin just above his base is shimmering over from your slick. The bed below your bodies is already soaking and Geto nearly feels worse for knowing he’s doing all this to you and you’re missing it.
A pout pulls out his bottom lip for a moment before he shoots his gaze down some more just to watch your juices spill out all around his cock as he slowly rolls his hips back ‘n forth in a languid motion.
“Mmnh..” You’re grumbling in your sleep, but to him the noise sounds mostly like one of pleasure.
One warm breath falls from his mouth as he looks back up to your face, “Moaning in your sleep,” Geto whispers, stilling his hips a moment so that he doesn’t wake you. “So cute.”
While part of him wished you were awake to react and be in the moment of sex with him, the other part of him relished in having you so pliant. None of those whines you spew his way when you swear he’s going too fast or too hard or too slow or whatever-the-fuck. The list of complaints you teasingly throw your boyfriend’s way just to irritate or taunt him while he’s got his dick inside you is quite endless.
You once spent thirty minutes begging to suck him off just to complain about him “bruising your throat” the following morning.
Did you show all symptoms of having a bruised throat that morning? Perhaps. Is that his fault? Nooo, of course not!
Either way, Geto’s appreciating being able to fuck you while you’re sleeping. It’s a little surreal here ‘n there—considering how he’s talking to himself instead of talking you through it—but it’s enjoyable nonetheless.
Especially when your cunt seems to be wide awake as his pace picks up a little. You’re squeezing around him just how he likes it and it’s pulling the oxygen right out of his lungs, leaving him a panting mess above you within mere minutes.
Geto finds it moderately unfair how perfect you are for him even while you’re sleeping.
“Nngh-, shit. I’m gonna cum,” His brows furrow tightly, hands having found security on your hips in a neat fashion to keep your body a bit more steady for the way he rocks his lengthy dick into you. “You want that? My sleepy girl, you’re gonna wake up s’full of me.“
His rambles continue on as he grows closer to something creamy gushing out of his cock, words of filth flowing so naturally out of his mouth that anyone would assume it to be second nature to the man.
Then his tip crams up against a particularly sappy nook of your cunt and a whine squeaks past his lips, “Ah, imagine.. all my cum just leakin' out this pretty hole of yours.” Geto huffs as his hands trail further up your body just to give your tits a hearty squeeze, “Bet you’d call me a perv if you woke up right now—tell me how wrong it is to fuck you while you’re sleep...”
He knows that’s only half-way true, considering you did give him your full consent to this. But the thought of it. The thought of your eyes fluttering open with a gloss of confusion shimmering over them, your steady breaths quickly turning into panting moans, and your entire body awaking to your whorishly gorgeous boyfriend fucking you like the freak you’ve always known him to be…
That’s what gets him.
“You trust me so much.. hahh, fuuck..“ Geto chokes as the realization sends something sinful down his spine, his cock throbbing against your dormant walls, “Gets me so fuckin' hard I can barely think.”
Even though he’s keeping his voice pretty low, it’s getting harder ‘n harder to maintain that volume. You snore softly beneath him and somehow that makes your pussy feel all the more clenched around the head of his weepy dick.
“Mgh-, baby.. you’re getting tighter on me, c’mon now. I don’t wanna cum yet,” He puffs desperately, billowing his hips with slower thrusts as if to combat with your body’s natural reactions to him. “Relax that pussy for me, c’mon. Relax for Suguru, let me make you feel good.”
Your body does exactly that as if used to his cooing words—cunt adjusting to his size within the next few thrusts, oozing out slick all around his deft base as his balls are left flush with your skin.
“Atta’ fuckin’ girll,” Geto purrs hotly before letting his jaw fall open, “Uhuhh, you feel even better now. Can’t believe you listen to me even when you’re sleepin’.”
He thoughtlessly swishes a hand down in between your bodies, his thumb locating your clit and rubbing something utterly delectable into you. Something light like a moan escapes your throat and he worries for a moment that he’d just woke you up—his movements coming to a sharp stop.
When your boyfriend hears that alleged moan fade into another snore, he exhales slowly and then plucks his hips all the way back. His long cock bobs out of your pussy and the dew sight of slick ‘n filth alone is enough to make him draw his bottom lip in between his teeth.
Then Geto takes ahold of his shaft and pumps himself a couple times before tapping his tip against your puffy folds, swatting his cock in between them and then groaning out, “M’gonna cum. F-Fuuck, gorgeous…”
You just-so-happen to move in your sleep after he says that—unconsciously pushing forward and swallowing up his plump tip.
Geto’s face contorts into something just short of pornographic before he whines, “Y’gonna let me do that to you? Cum inside you while you’re sleeping? Ohmygoddd.”
Then he’s inching his hips forward as much as he can before cumming all inside your pretty pussy, leaving you nice and coated with his seed.
He had to put a hand over his mouth to conceal the sounds he’d let out in fear of waking you but right after he’s emptied himself into you, Geto pulls out and hastily holds a finger to your pulsing hole to stop his cum from spilling out.
Smirking, “You’ll probably wake up ‘n get soaked as soon as you feel what I left inside you….”
Which ultimately brings you back to now—the following morning where you’ve done exactly that.
You hadn’t minded what he’d left inside you at all. It may have been a little uncomfortable for you to sit up with the feel of gooey cum dribbling out of you in nasty globs but, it’s swiftly accompanied by dews of your morning arousal.
Then you were leaning back a bit and sending your boyfriend that looks he knows and loves, “Well? Are you gonna sit there ‘n stare at me all day or are you gonna clean up your mess?” You huff towards Geto.
His eyes seem to have a twinkle in them upon hearing those words, his body melting into position in between your legs faster than you have time to process.
You feel his palms come sticking to your thighs as he pushes them apart and swats his tongue over his lips, “You’re the one who said I could use you whenever I wanted. Don’t be such a brat about it, princess.”
Peering down at him, you cock a brow his way, “Yeah well, I didn’t tell you to leave your cum in me all night. Now less talking and more cleaning, perv.”
Oh fuck.
Do you even have any idea of what you just started?
Spoiler alert: no.
☆ Gojo Satoru
You made a mistake.
Giving your "sweet" husband Gojo the permission to bury his dick inside you whenever he wants was probably not in your best interest. Fairly enough, you'd given him that permission about a month ago now and he's only exhausted that free use a handful of times.
You expected him to be all over you nearly every night but, that simply wasn't the case. Instead, he waited for rather specific situations to pull the free use card.
Specific situations such as now, while you're laying across your living room couch with your phone pressed up to your ear. You'd received a call from one of your exes and now you're listening to him ramble on about how harshly life's been treating him since you left.
You swear you were seconds from hanging up the phone, but you were never quite given a chance to do so since the sound of your husband returning home from a long day of work pulled you out of the dully dragging, one-sided conversation. Before you could turn your head towards the hallway that led to the front door, you felt this sudden weight shifting down onto the backs of your thighs.
When you glanced back over your shoulder, Gojo was giving you this deceivingly innocent smile as his big hands moved to slide against your sides.
You gave him a greeting smile of your own before he leaned down to kiss at your forehead.
Then his ears caught the familiar voice on your phone.
He'd been no stranger to this ex of yours since you'd shared the many, many horror stories about what you'd experienced with the him over the years. But, Gojo wasn't in much of a mood to care or question you about it right now.
Not after the looooong day of work he's had—having spent the majority of it fantasizing about returning home to his beautiful wife.
Hence why it only takes one short push of his hips for you to feel the lump of his cock bulging out against his slacks and pressing into the cushioning of your ass. You gasp at it but quickly cover it up with a fake cough before the idiot on the phone could ask you any questions about it.
Then you look back at your husband again, only to find that all his attention is on your ass. His hands move to squish your cheeks together as he bites his lip, cheeks hued in blush just from how aroused he already is. Fuck, he'd been thinking about this—about you—all damn day.
And now you're in his hands, all soft 'n pliant for him. Gojo feels you glaring at him from just beyond his peripherals but he still doesn't care. In fact, he lifts one of his hands to wave your starring off entirely—silently signaling you to focus on your little phone call instead of what he's doing.
You let it slide for the time being and turn your head away with a roll of your eyes, humming into the phone in response to whatever your ex had last uttered to you.
This continues on for a few minutes with nothing unusual happening until Gojo smacks at your ass and you feel his cock rutting in between the valley of the two mounds. His pants are still keeping him constrained but it doesn't do much to conceal how much he's twitching beneath the fabric.
Nor does it aid with how hot you begin to get as he shamelessly begins to hump you. The sounds of his soft pants fan out from behind you and you're hoping this is all he'll do before he cums and leaves you to work your way off the phone.
Unfortunately for you, that's not at all what happens.
Gojo's hands get greedier as his dick gets impossibly harder and you feel his palms sneaking to your waist for a moment before he slips them right under you. Your stomach is given a soft squeeze as he smiles and then his hands are traveling up to your tits—successfully groping at them in sync with the rocking of his hips.
Sometimes you think he forgets just how big he is. Those long limbs of his are straddling your legs but that doesn't help with the weight of his firm body pressing down against you.
Then he has the nerve to crane over to your other ear. "Need you," Gojo whispers whilst his hips thrust lightly, his hands having snuck under your shirt by now.
He thoroughly cups your breasts and lets his fingers dig into your flesh while leaking an embarrassing amount of pre into his boxers—the moisture seeping through enough to leave a wet patch against his dark pants.
Before you can mute the phone to respond to him—or do anything, really—he's kissing at the side of your neck and muttering into your skin, "Gonna fuck you now, okay?”
As quickly as you can, you move the phone away from your ear and hope it doesn't catch your voice as you huff, “Satoru, wait.”
“Shhhh, you told me whenever I want, remember?” He cuts off quickly. His hands are moving right after he says that, reaching the flimsy waistband of your bottoms and tugging them down along with your moderately soaked panties to reveal your naked skin.
You look back with a pout on your face, gesturing slightly towards your phone, “But—“
Gojo meets eyes with you shortly while his hands fly to his thick belt to tug it out the way and then unzip his pants. His chin nods towards that pesky call of yours, “Who is that anyway?” He asks as if not already aware.
“Uh," You swallow thickly, "Remember uhm… Naoya?”
Unbothered, your husband flashes a smile. “Ohhh, that’s your ex, right?” He hums back to you. Your head nods in response and he scoffs in between his fingers steadily unzip his pants, “Fuck's he want?”
“He said I-, ah—Satoru..” Your breathy moan was prompted by the heavy thump of his cock against your ass with all its veiny weight as Gojo lets it bob and then slap at your cheeks.
Still looking at you, “He said you what?” Gojo asks.
Your lashes flutter—and despite the hushed back and forth going on here, your clueless ex is still talking to himself on your phone. “—Said he found some stuff I left over at his place, and then went rambling on from there.”
You mostly expected this to be the part where Gojo acts out of possessiveness or jealousy, but to your surprise, he only shrugs. "Why didn’t you hang up?”
“I was curious," You tell him honestly.
He nods, “Oh yeah?”
Your eyes drop to the way his hand is rubbing along his cockhead, smearing his own pre around his pinkened tip and leaving it to glisten under the dim living room lighting.
Then you gulp, “...I figured something might be wrong, but he’s just talking to me n-normally,” Your stammers come from his cockhead shhlicking down between your folds, kissing your hole all sloppy.
“Mh. Alright,” Gojo murmurs, nodding his head toward the phone again as his attention falls elsewhere, “Keep listening to him then.”
“But I thought you wanted to—“
His hand finds the back of your head all of a sudden and he pushes your face down against the couch cushions a bit, doing so to muffle the expected moan that’s ripped out of your throat as he bucks his hips forward all meanly.
“You heard what I said.” He warns as he watches you shakingly obey via drawing the phone back up to your ear. “Uhuh, don’t even worry about me, sweetheart. Just let me use this pussy til’ I’m satisfied. Pretend I’m not even here.”
It’s quite difficult to do that as Gojo wastes no time sprawling the lips of your pussy out around his wide shaft. Those gorgeous white lashes of his flutter in relief as he first begins to feed his cock into your cunt, eyeing the way you suck him in despite having to bite down on the couch to stop yourself from moaning directly into the phone call.
In courtesy of said call, your husband is even nice enough to go easy on you!
…For the first few minutes, anyway.
It doesn’t take much longer before his hands are properly anchoring your body down against the couch via your hips and his thrusting is timed perfectly with each time you try to open your mouth and speak to that stupid ex of yours.
The first few times you were able to play your moans off as a cough and told the bummy Naoya that you’d probably come down with a cold or something. You knew if you tried to work your way off the phone—even though you’d been doing so long before Gojo got home—your husband would probably punish you by edging you til’ your legs lost functionality in them and your pussy was a leaking mess all over this very couch.
So, you did your best to maintain the one-sided conversation for as long as you could. The only bad thing about it was that your talking and moaning made you squeeze Gojo’s cock all the more tighter and he fucking loved it.
He just couldn’t get enough of how wet this was getting you—how you seemed to relish in this kinda situation. It quickly let him know that this should be a reoccurring thing he does.
Free use is one thing, but executing it only when you’re talking to someone else was definitely in Gojo’s best interest now.
So in between him purposefully waiting until you’re mid-response to fuck you harder, he’d angle himself over and talk into your other ear all nasty, “Yeahhhh, you like this, don’t you? Getting fucked real good while that pathetic ex of yours rambles to you? Makes me wonder if you’d be this wet if I did this more often—fuck you while you’re on the phone…”
Then his hand would come down against your ass again, the smack surely loud enough to be heard on the phone.
“What was that?” Naoya’s grating voice asks through the call.
You bite down a little harder on the bit of cushion you already had in between your teeth so you could drool out a moan before lifting your face up and gasping. “M-My husband dropped something. Don’t worry about it,” You breathed out.
The man on the other end of your phone didn’t seem too convinced but he was in the middle of explaining something before he interrupted himself with his own question so, he returned right back to the topic.
Gojo’s lips curl against your ear—having picked up on the sly way in which you tried to remind Naoya that you’re married, clearly hoping that it would get the call to end sooner.
“Should I wait til’ you get a call from work next time?” He grunts into your ear just as his cock knocks into your cervix, smearing the area over with a glimmer of his glossy precum. “Think you could hold in your moans if I did that?”
You mindlessly move the phone away from your mouth and let your maw hang open as you look back at him, “Toru..”
Gojo gives you a toothy smile before shaking his head and tugging your body back to meet his heavy thrusts, “Uh-uh, answer my question.”
His hand then tugs your face all the way up by your jaw and the phone falls as he plows into you. In doing so, he also manages to force your body into this nasty arch against the couch that has all noises heard by your ex on the phone.
You even hear Naoya’s sentences fall short as he pauses for a long moment and listens closely. Then, “The fuck is that noise—“
Plap plap plap!
The smacking of Gojo’s hips to your ass is picked up by your phone in the best of quality, each slap of skin heard perfectly by the man on that call.
Eyes narrowing on his end, even though you can’t see it, Naoya glances at his phone sideways and his face twists up, “—Are you…”
“Mmgh! Fuuck, Satoruu,” You choke out helplessly. “R-Right theree, ah!”
The sudden encouragement from your lips is exactly what eggs Gojo on into grunting all loudly and leaning his body up. The prone bone position you two have been neatly tucked into this entire time is unmoving as he continues to pull you back onto his cock.
He moans upon feeling you cumming around him and leaving this creamy mess all over the thumping veins that decorate his length.
Shamelessly talking at a normal volume as if that call of yours isn’t ongoing. “There she iss, there’s my perfect wife.” Then Gojo reaches over and swipes up the phone, talking right into it, “Sounds s’pretty doesn’t she?”
Naoya’s spewing and sputtering out curses to the both of you but Gojo tosses the device faster than he has time to hear or care. Then his hands pin you down against the couch by your waist and his bucking becomes insistent.
The couch moves slightly, scraping the floor with how rough he was being before Gojo lets his leg slide off slightly so he can steady himself. Then one of his hands move to the side of the couch to hold it still while his dick angles somewhere to the left inside you.
You sometimes forget just how big ‘n strong your husband is—how easily he can fold your body and handle the janky movement of furniture at the same time. And it seems you’d forgotten it so much that now you were trying to run from him a bit.
He notices how your hips pull away whenever he tugs them onto himself and the cute attempt makes him grin. To distract you from your futile attempts of escaping him, Gojo weighs his head to the side and huffs, “You uh, you never answered my question, sweet thing.”
Your eyes roll back almost instantly and the man feels his heart throb at how pretty you look getting fucked out on him already. “Yes, ‘Toru. Hnngh-, fuck! I’d love it if you-, ohmygod… i-if you did this more often,” You moan to him.
“Babyyyyy,” Gojo coos, pearly sloshes of cum quickly pouring out from the head of his cock but not stopping nor slowing that bullying pace of his, “That’s so slutty of you. Wonder where you got that from.”
You just barely send a glare back his way. “D-Don’t act innocent.”
His brows shoot upward and he grins cheekily, “Hmm?” It’s almost like he wasn’t actively flooding your insides with cum. “Are you implying that I turned you into this?” You nod and he tuts, “Say it then.”
You hated loved when he challenged you like this—as if you were scared to admit it or something. Swallowing down your moans firmly enough to breathe, “You did this to me, Satoru.”
That dopey smile of his returns to his stupidly angelic face and he’s fucking his cum into you real’ good whilst talking, “Oh yeah? What’d I do, baby? Talk to me nice.”
“R-Ruined me,” You cry out with drool dribbling out from the corner of your mouth, “Turned me into a slut for you.”
“Fuck yeah I did,” Gojo replies proudly. Then he looks down and rocks his hips forward before stilling himself inside you just to feel you clench and unclench around him. “Now, are you gonna cum for me again or do I have to get that ex of yours on FaceTime?”
Your eyes widen, “You wouldn’t.”
“Hah,” The phone he tossed earlier is swiped right back up and you hear that signature ringing faster than you have time to process anything.
Naoya answers after only two rings. Though, it should be noted that he never even hung up the regular call.
“The fuck?” He spits as he’s met with your husband angling the phone up just right to show his smothered cock tucked inside you.
Gojo moves to tap at your head next, meeting eyes with you for half a second once you glance back at him, “Smile for me, sweetheart.”
☆ Nanami Kento
“You said anytime I want, my love.”
You didn’t think he would finger you while you had company.
It was movie night with a great deal of your friends scattered around your shared living room and yet here your fiancé was forcing your legs to spread open while you sat on his lap.
Two thick fingers were idly rubbing against your pussy over the fabric of your panties—a small blanket the only thing concealing the sight.
You whispered back to the man as quietly as you could, not wanting to deal with what was to come if anyone around you two figured out what exactly was going on under that blanket, “Kento this is absurd!”
“Shh, shh," Nanami hummed deeply, his eyes trained forward just over your shoulder whilst his fingers continued with their motions, "I can’t hear the movie.”
A frown took over the shape of your lips, “But—“
Already annoyed, “Shut up,” He cut off before glancing away from the TV screen to make sure no one was looking at you both. With no peering eyes found, he decides now as a good time to stuff your mouth full of his free fingers. “Isn't this so much better? Now suck.”
Your cunt twitched against the digits he had neatly rubbing against you and he took that as a sweet reply from you, your lips slowly molding around his fingers before you bobbed your head forward ever so slightly.
You made sure to keep the sounds of your sucking to a quiet slurp that could easily pass off as one of you sipping on something—and this surprisingly worked just fine for the next few minutes.
...At least until Nanami pulled your panties to the side.
Then his fingers lifted away from your skin for a few seconds to allow your poor pussy a moment to throb 'n clench around nothing before he smacked! at it lightly. The wet plp that rang out into the space surrounding you both surprisingly wasn't loud enough to cause any heads to turn.
Which, of course, was what you preferred.
But it did cause you to moan, "Ken," as his fingers fell from your mouth.
Nanami suppressed a groan but he couldn't quite stop his crotch from shifting under your ass. The hand that'd been occupying your mouth fell for a moment as one of your guests looked into your direction—to which your fiancé kindly sent them an innocent grin and then glanced to you as if you two had been having some casually whispered conversation that totally didn't involve him playing with your pussy.
He tipped his mouth up to your ear for a moment and made sure his words didn't escape the space between you whatsoever, “They’ll catch on if you keep moaning my name like that.”
Despite his warning, he purposefully begins to feed his thiiiick fingers past your dewy entrance—which accepts him nicely via squelching hotly in between your thighs.
“Fuck,” You whine after bringing some of the blanket up to cover the bottom half of your face.
As if that would properly conceal your sounds or something...
Nanami's behind you grinning as his free hand fingers your hip and forces your body to push back 'n forth against the very prominent erection in his pants, “Can you feel me? Feel what this does to me?” He asks softly, breath cascading down the side of your shoulder now, “Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this all day. Seems like you have too.”
Just as he points that out, he's poking two fingers into your cunt and letting the tips of them swipe against your sopping walls—earning a gorgeous gloss of liquid arousal to spurt out from where you're currently connected.
Your body naturally slumps back against his a bit as your legs sprawl out some more over his. “Please...” You huff, unsure of what exactly you were even begging for.
“Your squirming will only make it worse, y'know," Nanami warns far too kindly.
“Nngh-," You moan again.
It's almost like you were caring less and less about the surrounding company!
“You're a mess, my love. Can you really not handle a couple fingers without my others in your mouth?” He sighs, sparing you no time to answer, and letting his fingers scissor out against your walls as they dig further into you.
He easily fucks himself knuckle deep and leaves his pointer and pinky to press into the plush of your surrounding skin.
Then, after plugging your mouth up with his digits yet again—since you can't seem to behave without them—his whispers felt like warm honey against your ear, "I suppose this means I can go faster now, no?"
“Mmgh!” Your grumbling around his digits truly has his cock aching in his pants. But he doesn't want to fuck you in front of everyone like this.
At least, not yet.
Though, the thought is most definitely tempting.
You figure this much based on how taunting his voice soothes out against your ear again, “Do you want them to see you like this, darling?” Then his fingers slide against the center of your tongue whilst his others curve into your cunt, “Should I move this blanket and let them?”
Your head shakes frantically and you even move a hand of your own to push at the one he's got buried in between your thighs, inaudibly begging for some sort of break or moment to at least gather your thoughts.
“Ohhh, don’t do that.” Nanami purrs in this suddenly condescending tone, tongue peeping out past his lips to lick a stripe against the side of your neck. Then his words feel just as warm and feverish as his breath is all pressed up against your skin, “I think you want it. You want me to toss this blanket and let everyone here watch me fuck you.”
“M-Mmph!” You grumble before slithering your tongue in between the fingers he's got lodged past your wobbly lips.
“Look at you, practically crying for it," He adds on in reference to your currently sobbing cunt. If only he could see how wet you had his slacks right now. Feeling it is one thing, of course, but he knows setting his eyes on it directly is another thing in itself entirely. “You want all our neighbors to see how pretty you look bouncing on my cock?”
Nanami slides his fingers out of your mouth just to let you respond with the quiet whimper of his name, “Kento..”
“I want them to see," He admits naughtily, “Want them to watch how wide I stretch you, watch how I make this pretty cunt squirt… shit.” Now his fingers were diving in and out of you at a faster rate, sloshing left 'n right each time they came out to slander your slick all over the place.
A friend or two surely caught on to what was happening under that blanket by now.
But... you think both you and Nanami lost it in yourselves to care enough by this point.
Which is confirmed and doubled down on as your head angles back and you lose all your senses with the way you kiss him.
Nanami groans lowly into your mouth, the sound vibrational. Then he sears his next array of admissions in between your lips, “Mmh, I knew it. You want it too, huh?”
“Yeah,” You huff, nodding slightly.
Neither of you were thinking things through at all. Moreso him than you, though.
Which is proven in the next number of minutes just after Nanami adjusts his cock out of his pants and works it past your quivering ring of resistance in slow motion. The wide stretch had your body squirming all over the place and the hand that covered your mouth was most certainly a necessity by this point.
Although one or two people in the room had caught on to what might have been happening between you and Nanami, they couldn't be entirely sure just yet. It was still dark in the room and the TV was loud enough in the moment to mask your muffled cries of pleasure.
“If you moan too loud, I’m moving the blanket and fucking you in front of everyone for real," Nanami warned—trying his best to at least let you try to give this a solid attemp-
“K-Kennn,” You whimper beyond the palm of his hand, killing that attempt entirely.
With a scoff, “Oh. You don't think I'm being serious, do you?”
One moment his cock is fully inside of you and the next... the blanket flies off.
Shit.
☆ Choso Kamo
Legs pressed up to his chest, thighs clasped together tightly, and something hot ‘n rock hard rutted in between them—occasionally nudging in between your folds and against your clit—you were woken up to the sight of your rather depraved boyfriend fucking your thighs.
Whimpering as quietly as he could, “FuckFuckFuckFuck-, nnngh… fuuuck-,” Choso gasped all pathetically.
The two of you had been napping and cuddling together just minutes ago but then he woke up so painfully hard with his cock already crammed up against the pretty curve of your ass. He just couldn't help himself!
And surely you didn't expect him to ignore his boner when you specifically told him that if he ever needed you, he could have you—no matter the place or situation.
So when you turned over in your sleep and he saw how nicely your thighs were hugging one another, he just couldn't help but imagine what his flushed cock would look like smudged in between them. He's already shown you time 'n time before that he's dangerously obsessed with your thighs.
Well, technically he's obsessed with all parts of you but, something about your thighs make him dizzy in his own arousal. Every time Choso has you riding his face, his hands are always groping and squishing your thighs. And he can't deny how attractive he thinks it is when you've just finished sucking him off and his cum spills down past your face and into the perfect crease of your clamped legs.
Which is exactly why he didn't waste much time repositioning himself so that he could hold your legs up now and slowly nudge his dick in between your legs. He tried to be careful of rubbing against your cunt as he held your limbs up against his chest with one bulky arm, the other propped somewhere to the side of him so that he'd be in a decent enough position to thrust against you.
“S-So pretty,” Choso grunted as he saw just how much he came already. Creamy globs of cum coated the entirety of his cock and smeared all nastily along your inner thighs, making it easy for his still-rigid length to slide back and forth now. All while he whispers, “I love you, baby. Love f-fucking you like this.“
His pelvis would clash with the back of your legs over and over again, the rough motion hard enough to have your torso rocking further up against the bed. If not for the pillows he adroitly set behind your head prior to getting off with your legs, you surely would've woken up from the top of your head knocking into the headboard.
Luckily enough for Choso, you wake up from feeling the other thing he'd been trying to avoid—the friction his cock created against your pussy.
It was an accident, really. He wanted to use your thighs really quickly and then go back to cuddling with you as if nothing ever happened but... well, after he came the first few times he was still hard.
He had to do something about it, right?"
“Go faster, Cho,” You're heard murmuring while your sleepily rub over your eyes, “C’mon, if you're gonna fuck my thighs like this then do it properly.”
“O-Ohh shiiiit,” Choso's breath gets tangled up almost immediately. He saw that you started to move and knew you were waking up but he didn't expect you to start talking to him like that so abruptly.
Then you give him a cute, but groggy smile as he mindlessly follows your instructions and picks up his pace, “There you go—good boyyy.”
Choso's eyes roll back and his hips are moving uncontrollably now. He probably would've ended up like this even if you didn't say anything but fuck, now that you have? Oh, the poor man was done for.
“Gonna cum,” He pants, watching through glossed eyes as you move your hand out to stroke at his cock each time it slots through the small gap he's created in between your thighs, “Gonna cum on you-, shit. Your thighs are s’warm.. They-, hahh-,” He’s cut off by you squeezing your legs—his eyes rolling back, headboard knocking up against the wall, and raw, husky groans pouring out of him.
Then you watch silky strings of cum spurt from his flustered tip, landing all over your torso, and even flying up to hit your mouth a little.
Choso's brows are left taut as he tries his best to keep himself from falling over on top of you and tugging your pajamas off just to plop his creamy cock inside you. Instead, he maintains his balance just fine and sways his head to the right before looking down at the way his dick is rubbing against your core again.
“Does it feel good for you too?” He pants cutely, doe-like eyes running up to your face, “Can you still feel me there? Against your pussy?”
You've clasped your bottom lip in between your teeth by now and your hand is left wet from his cum but you still manage a nod in response. To which Choso releases an eased sigh.
Then he leans up to properly, keeping his body steady on his knees and wrapping his other arm around you to come and pinch your clit somewhere in between his somewhat jittery grinds.
“Choso,” You call out in surprise, your hand flying down to hold his wrist.
He flashes this fucked-out little grin your way, answering his own question, “Mhmm, you cann. Fuck, you’re so wet from this.”
You let off a moan and then smile right back at him, “So are you.”
“Uhuh,” He gasps, “A-Always wet for my girl.”
You giggle at his dazed way of speaking now, wondering distantly just how many times he came while you were sound asleep, “I don’t think that’s how it works, baby.”
Choso's eyes soften in awe of you. “Don’t laugh at me,” He says with his plump bottom lip begining to poke out.
You gesture your hand out for him to come closer to you, “Awh, c’mere. Don’t pout.”
Casually ignoring you, your boyfriend naturally presses your legs down flat against your chest and his cock pops out from in between your thighs, dangling in the air with a drooling string of cum dripping from his flushed head.
Then he uses his strength to hold you down with one hand, the other grabbing ahold of his dick and letting it pat against your pussy—watching the way your plump lips press out around his shape through the fabric of your panties.
“You’re soaked from all that," He points out, noticing how the majority of your underwear is a dark shade indicating just how wet you'd gotten from waking up to his actions.
“Choso..." You murmur as you unconsciously send him a frown.
He looks up at your face, “Aw, now you’re the one pouting.”
Accompanying his words is a steady build up of something sloppy rubbing back 'n forth against the outline of your pussy. He doesn't really feel like taking your panties off or even moving them out of the way just yet, wanting to drag out your need for him as punishment for your first act towards him being those taunting words you threw his way earlier.
“Stop teasing,” You end up whining after the first few slips of his dick.
Normally you'd be all for this kinda thing but considering you woke up and immediately got horny from seeing your boyfriend finally taking advantage of the free use you'd given him months ago, it was a bit difficult for you not to be impatient now.
Choso lets out a hot breath as he decides to try something a little different. You'd already seen enough of his pathetic needy side for the day so, he figures it's time he switches it up now. Rasping out a rather commanding, “Say please.”
“Please?” You beg instantly while sending him that look you know makes him absolutely weak for you.
For the first time in foreve, Choso manages to ignore that look of yours and tips his head back a bit while thrusting his cockhead in between your drooling slit—bumping his own against your clit. “A little more than that,” He requests in a softened tone, “Say, ‘can I please have your cock, choso’?”
“I…” You swallow thickly at first—caught entirely off guard by his specific request. The worst part about it was the fact that you know he felt the way your cunt went twitching and clenching in reaction, yearning to be stuffed full of him sooner rather than later, “Can I please have your cock, Choso?”
“Good girl," He hums in between the slightly shy smile he sends down to you, "Now you get your reward."
Your panties are torn right off within the following moment. Choso hadn't exactly meant to rip the fabric off of you like that but, y'know, he was still just as needy for you as you were for him.
He couln't help himself!
When his cock finally begins to push against your hole, he breaks your legs open and displays this whorish look you've never seen from him before. Sounding far too confident as he hums, “Gonna fuck you til’ you’re wishing I kept using your thighs now, princess.”
As if he doesn't end up cumming not even a minute after being inside yo.
synopsis . Domestic morning sex in the kitchen with your grumpy husband. content . afab!reader, manhandling, somewhat soft sex, he’s obsessed with you, implied breeding kink, established relationship, filth, lots of praise, fluff if you squint, a tinge of softkuna, cum eating, etc. (answering this nonnie req)
Sukuna gets soooo frustrated by how good you feel that he starts rolling his eyes, scrunching his brows, and pouting as he watches his cock disappear inside you. He hates it when you start tightening up around him as if your sole purpose is to milk him dry—the sensation always makes his body feel as though it were hitching.
You’re currently arched over the cold kitchen countertop and he’s trying his best not to lose his mind but fuck you make it impossible.
All his focus shoots down onto the way you feel wrapped around him, your insides suddenly warmer while he battles with that overwhelming sensation of pleasure washing over the rest of his body. It's all too much for him and he doesn't want you to realize it just yet but everything about his body language gives it away.
His lower lip pushes out into a cute pout and his already-scrunching brows begin to twitch, eyes narrowed into a sharp glare while his careful hands press into that gorgeous arch of yours—causing you to moan messily against the counter.
Sukuna's too lost is how good you feel that he can barely focus on you and your whines anymore. The only thing that registers to his ears is the rather intoxicating squelch that rings out from your sloppy cunt. The rest of the house is dead silent so every little wet pop that saps out of you seems to echo loud enough to make the man feel dizzy in his own lust.
Then there's the way your pussylips look kissing his thick base, teasing and struggling all around him as if he were on the verge of breaking you and not the other way around. His balls feel weighty with each time they come smacking against your skin and his breath quickly grows ragged before he has time to catch it.
Your words smear out against the counter as you finally notice his unsteady breathing, "Sukuna, are you-, ah, are you okay?"
"F-Fuck, uhuh, m’fine, wife." He's grunting in response, as if his very expression wasn't breaking into something else-, something needier. You notice how his hips begin to roll slower, just pumping his fat cock into you so he can watch how your lips streeetch around him and how cum dribbles out from the sides.
Then his grip on your thighs gets tighter and his sharp fingernails start digging into your skin before you hear the sound that falls past his lips. It's a high pitched whine of something desperate—so desperate that your head angles back to his face and you nearly flinch at the heaviness of his gaze already on yours, like he wanted you to hear that.
Before you can even comment on it, Sukuna's cocking his head to the side and cracking the faintest smirk, "See what you do to me? Make me a damn fool," He huffs, not in the slightest bit embarrassed by the noise he let out. Then, as if to lessen the amount of time you have to respond or react to that, he nods his chin at you and groans, “Your leg, lift.”
His short command makes you scoff softly as you do exactly that. Lifting your right leg, his hand comes under your thigh to help it up to rest against the counter whilst his cock slides back—only his slobbering tip left licking your pussy. A wet mess of slick and cum is coating his length and it's then that he realizes something about mornings like this with you drives him especially wild.
Without warning, his hips snap forward and his dick thrashes into your walls at a newer angle, making your next snarky comment fall a bit short. “You’re s-so grumpy in the mornings. I don’t see why you even-, ohfuck..”
“You don’t see why I what?” Sukuna questions, hands traveling all up and down your body to trace over every curve available to touch.
The more his fingertips grazed, the more he wished to mark you in a way more apparent than he already has. Love bites decorate all parts of your frame along with messy drool trails that came about from his kisses earlier on when he first came dragging his feet into the kitchen. Looking at you now, he can’t help but smile at the fact that you didn’t even try to argue with him today about halting your cooking to let him have his way with you.
“Why you insist on interrupting breakfast to fuck me,” You finally clarify as you lift your upper half away from the countertop, “This is the third morning in a row, ‘Kuna.”
One of his hands lift with your body and grabs at your jaw before forcing you to turn your face to him. Smirking, “Should I apologize for my lust towards my wife?”
“Maybe.” You whisper back. His cock twitches at the single word from your tongue and you almost laugh at the fact that your husband might be a bit more addicted to you than he lets on sometimes.
Sukuna leans in closer and just barely cuts himself short of kissing you, “Mmh, yeah?” He hums.
Then, his hips start to drag back, heavy cock scattering his last load of cum against the plush walls of your cunt with another sloshy squelch! “Blaming me when you’re the one that’s so addictive—look at you—how can I not crave this first thing in the morning?” He says, emphasizing his words with a slow hump forwards, the force in it making your body bump against the counter a bit rougher than intended.
As you eye his face carefully, you notice the way those pink tuffs of hair cling to his forehead due to sweat and how raspy his words exit his throat. Sure, Sukuna always carries that sexy rasp in his tone but it’s always ten pitches deeper in the morning. That, and something about those ruby eyes of his seems to be all the more softer on you, more craving—as if he still didn’t have enough of you even while being balls deep.
“You’re perfect,” Your husband praises as he watches your gaze travel over him. The look you were giving him was enough for him to want to sink his teeth into any part of your skin he could. Fuck, you were driving him insane and you hadn’t even done anything out of the ordinary.
You chuckle lovingly and bite back a smile, “Don’t start that.”
Sukuna ignores your words entirely and only registers the heated pulse his words enthuse from your pussy. “We should get a mirror in here so I can show you since you don’t believe me,” He carefully suggests.
“I-, hahh…” Your breath falls short and your mind stammers when he starts moving his cock in and out of you again at yet another steady pace. “We have mirrors in every other room already, we do not need—“
“But we do, wife.” He quickly protests, lips on the verge of pouting again. “I need to be able to show you how pretty you look taking me in every room of this house,” As those words elegantly roll off of his tongue, he turns your head away and lets his hand find the back of it before slowly pushing your face to the counter again.
Your cheek sandwiches against its coolness once more and you feel his hand press into your lifted leg, his wide cockhead pushing up against your cervix due to that nasty curve his dick carries. “Sukuna,” You gasp, hands clawing for anything to grab onto.
“Awh,” The man coos with a knowing tilt of his head, “That made you drool.”
You grit your teeth and let your eyes travel back as you deny the debauched reaction your body had to his words, “I-I’m not drooling.”
Sukuna chuckles and you feel his palm slide over your leg, “Not up there, here.” He clarifies before letting his hand grab at the fat of your ass to spread you impossibly wider for his hungry eyes. “Fuuck, I can’t get enough of you.” He groans at the sight of your pussy weeping around his cock.
Your wetness coats every trailing vein of his and it’s the filthiest sight to lay his eyes on. Hell, this is the only sight he wishes to see every morning. Somewhere not-so-deep down inside, he wishes desperately that you’d wake him up to the dripping display of your cunt spread open for him to ravish as he sees fit. Hell, he’d probably cum at the sight alone—
“M’gonna cum, ‘Kuna,” You moan.
“I know,” He hushes out to you all smug-like. Then, the rest of his weight comes forward and you're being smothered from all over while his words find your ear with a rare sense of gentleness, “Go ahead, you deserve it., sweetheart.”
It's almost embarrassing the way your body begins to twitch against the counter. You and Sukuna have been married for quite some time but softness like this during sex of all things is a true rarity for you.
“Mhm, all over my cock, let me feel it," He thoroughly encourages while his tattooed chest squashes against your back, "Fuck." Sukuna heaves, “Messy woman… it’s dripping all over these shaky legs of yours.” He points out, feeling the subtly jitter in your legs as the wet release slobbers downwards.
You roll your eyes and everything just feels wet, “S’your fault.”
“Oh,” He smiles devilishly, “Is it?”
Your head manages to push up enough to angle back again and meet his gaze, “You know it is, don’t play dumb.”
Sukuna tips his head to the side and inches in to kiss you. It's a mushy feel of tenderness that only makes your heart thump wildly in your chest. Then he's talking into your mouth, “Mh, alright. I suppose it is my fault.” Another rarity for you: him accepting his faults. “Am I meant to take responsibility, then?” He asks.
Of course, your husband spares you no second to respond. Instead, he's moving to answer his own question and you feel a breeze of air slap against your backside as he pulls back and lets his cock slip out of you. His previous loads of cum mixed with yours tries to follow suit and exit your pussy with quick gushes but, he stop that with a simple swat of his thumb.
Then the man drops to his knees.
Still bent over the counter, you hardly have a moment to react before you feel something wet sliding up your legs. When you look down, you catch sight of your gorgeously obsessed husband lapping at your body to capture any dripped away cum from your skin.
You gasp, “What are you-“
“Cleaning my woman up, obviously.” He so promptly cuts off, mixing his kitten-licks with loving kisses whilst he makes his way up.
You try to push that other leg of yours off of the counter so you can at least stand properly but the man grabs ahold of it before you can even begin to move. “Sukuna, you can’t be serious.” You scold, feeling almost awkward as he tiptoes his way towards your cunt with his mouth.
He nips at your inner thigh and then lets out a low purr. “I can’t let this go to waste now, can I?”
“But-“
With one last annoyed groan, his mouth finally reaches your pussy and the way his tongue slathers up is enough to cut you off before his words do. Grunting 'n grumping into you, “Shut up and let me enjoy my breakfast, woman.”
So much for the food you'd been preparing for him a few hours ago...
banner art by Rororogi Mogera || perm sukuna tags:
content: your parents pulled you out of college and sent you to a “discipline camp” because they thought you were too 'exposed' and 'dirty' plus, they were super religious. However instead of fixing you, it does the exact opposite of that. tags: counselor!gojo satoru :: pastor!toji fushiguro :: camp leader!nanami kento :: instructor!sukuna ryomen :: disciplinarian!geto suguru :: cleaner!choso kamo :: elder!hiromi higuruima :: fem!reader :: jjk :: creampie :: blowjob :: smut :: etc
w.c. 4.3k
tag: @charlisflyingangell
Gojo ✩ Satoru — Pride
You were doing this on purpose. You’d been at this camp for a month now and you’d purposely gotten into trouble more times than you could count. Why?
It's simple really.
Your counselor was hot—like..really fucking hot. Gojo Satoru. The hottest man in camp. He was most likely in his early thirties, with the hottest body you’d ever seen. But your favorite part?
The way he spoke to you when you broke the rules. His voice is always so strict and proper. You craved knowing how his voice was when he lost control.
So, you always showed up to his office dressed in barely contained outfits—short skirts, tops that barely contained your breasts—another rule you always broke.
And he noticed. Of course, he noticed. How could he not?
The way your eyes always flickered to his biceps. The way you shifted in your seat, your skirt riding higher every time you sat down in front of him, wearing that same innocent expression. Before leaving his office, you always leaned over his table to say 'thank you, sir', allowing him a clear view of your breasts before leaving with a grin.
God, you were killing him.
And he was finally starting to lose his patience.
ᢉ𐭩⋆˚࿔
Gojo had you bent over his table, one hand around your throat and the other on your hips as his cock drove into you in rough fast thrusts. “You wanted this didn't you?”
"Mngh—" He pulled out, watching you clench desperately around nothing. Gojo grinned and thrust inside once more, burying himself balls deep inside you. His balls slapped against the curve of your ass, making your cheeks bounce and yout body jerk forward.
Paperwork and pens clattered to the floor as you gripped the table for stability. "All those times—those outfits..you fucking tease."
Your moans and whimpers filled the room, tears streaming from your face in pure unfiltered pleasure. "Ngh..'toru you're soo deep."
You gasped, back arching as he rocked his hips into you, pulling out and slamming my cock back into your pussy each time.
Your back arched—pushing your ass against him, allowing him to slide deeper inside you.
"Fuck—you're killing me baby."
"You wanted this didn't you?"
"Yes," You moaned, knees feeling weak.
"How much?"
"So bad, 'toru please." You cried out, orgasm fast approaching.
"Good girl." Gojo rewards you by dropping a hand to your pussy, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in fast circles.
Your pussy wetter as his thrusts got faster. He grunts, gripping your hip tighter. "Cum with me baby."
His hand squeezed your throat and that was your undoing. Your pussy clamped around his cock as you came. Eyes rolling back, hot white pleasure filling you. Gojo groans, his thrusts flattering. He thrusts into you one last time, cumming with you. You whimpered, ropes of him filling you over and over.
"Hah—look at you." Gojo pulls out, watching your joint orgasms leaking out of you, falling to the floor as you shuddered.
"Come, let's get you cleaned up."
Ryomen ✩ Sukuna – Wrath
Sukuna prided himself on one thing. He was a patient man. There's nothing in this world that made his patience slip—except for you of course.
It started with an outdoor activity—scavenger hunt. You came late, you refused to participate and even worse? You talked back to him. He thought since it's your first day there, you'd learn eventually but no—you only got worse.
He cornered you in the shed, trying to be civil with you and in return he got attitude and he had enough of you.
ᢉ𐭩⋆˚࿔
"Open your mouth. If you're going to act like a whore, then suck me like one."
"Sir—" You begin to speak, the look in his eyes made you pause. Deep down, this is all you've wanted from him. He knew that—hell botj of you did.
You barely had time to breathe before he shoved his cock past your lips, stretching your mouth wide. A groan rumbled from his chest as he hit the back of your throat with barely any resistance. A choked sound slipping from you.
"Fuck—that's it," he growled, hips snapping up roughly. His hand gripped your hair harshly. Forcing you down to take more of him. "Take every fucking inch, brat."
Sukuna was merciless with you. He fucked your mouth with barely contained anger. Each thrust was deep, his thick cock bullying its way down your throat while his grip on your hair kept you exactly where he wanted you. Saliva dripped down your chin as you gagged and sputtered around him, hands scrambling to his thighs to grip desperately.
Sukuna grins, a sadistic smile on his face as he watched tears streaming down your face. "Yeah?Not so bratty now are you?"
He hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes glowing. "All those times I wanted to punish you for misbehaving...."
He held your head down, forcing you to take him to the hilt until your nose pressed against his pelvis—refusing to let you up for air. Your thighs clenched, each thrust from Sukuna made you even wetter.
Truth to be told, you thrived from this. All those days of acting like a total bitch finally paid off with his cock in your mouth and you had never been happier.
"You're loving this aren't ya?"
He groaned, pulling you back just to give you momentarily release before slamming back in.
The wet, filthy sounds of your mouth sucking him filled the shed. The gagging, slurping, his low angry grunts mixing with your muffled moans. Sukuna's thighs tensed beneath you as he fucked your face harder, chasing his pleasure. Your hand found it's way to his balls—a surpised moan slipping from Sukuna. Motivating you even futher.
"Ah—shit..I'm gonna cum." He tells you. His pace turned sloppy, hips snapping as he chases his orgasm. "Fucking swallow it."
With a groan, Sukuna buried himself down your throat and came hard, thick ropes of hot cum filling you. He held you there, twitching and pulsing. When he finally pulled out, strings of saliva and cum connected your swollen lips to his still-hard cock.
Sukuna stared down at your messy, tear-streaked face with dark satisfaction. He smirked. "Get up and all fours. Time to really punish you brat."
Toji ✩ Fushiguro – Greed
Toji had never prided himself as being a religious man. If someone told him, 2 years after retiring he'd be desperate and become a priest and some camp? He'd laugh right in their faces.
Truly, Toji had no idea what he was doing. But it paid him good money so he did what he was instructed. Life at the camp for Toji was exhausting at times but mostly pleasant.
At least until you came there.
Your parents had sent you to this camp after you had 'flirted' with your father's boss—which to be fair, wasn't entirely true. Toji's carefully constructed routine was destroyed the second you came to his confessional—wanting to be forgiven for your sins.
Then you made your own routine, finding his confessional booth every afternoon to 'confess'. Yet you only spoke about one thing. Him. It was beyond obvious of course, the way you described the 'temptation'. You told him how much you craved him—in the nastiest details ever.
Toji finally had enough of it when you slipped up (on purpose) saying his name.
ᢉ𐭩⋆˚࿔
"Fuck..I need you. Right now." Toji sat on the narrow wooden bench and pulled you onto his lap, lining up his cock with your soaked entrance. You were beyond turned on—your nails digging into his shoulders.
He dragged you down onto him slowly, savoring every inch as your pussy stretched around his thickness.
"Mghh 'ji oh fuck.." You whimpered as you sank down on his cock. He was so huge. Toji groaned, eyes rolling back for a second.
"This is what I've been starving for...it took song long." Toji bottomed out, his hands gripped your hips with bruising greed and he started fucking up into you with deep, desperate strokes. He was pace was frantic, almosg like he couldn’t get enough of you. Ever since Toji's wife died his entire focus was on his job, not sex. Being in you felt so fucking live changing to him. "Been hard for days because of you,"
Your moans echoed in the small confession room. Your head falling against his shoulder as he claims you.
"..you've been in here whispering about wanting my cock and then leave me like nothing happened. Never again." You moaned loudly as he thrust up harder, his thick cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you. The booth creaked with every greedy roll of his hips.
Toji's hands found your ass. Gripping your ass and pulling you down onto him. "Come on doll. Ride me,"
He tells you breathlessly, his voice rough with desperation. "Give me that greedy little pussy. It's mine now."
You moved your hips. Bouncing on his cock as he thrust up to meet you. The wet, filthy sound of your cunt taking every inch of him filled the small space. Toji looked completely lost in pleasure, forehead pressed to yours, breathing ragged. "I'm never letting you go after this."
He groaned, fucking you deeper. "Gonna fill this tight cunt every single day. Keep you dripping with my cum inside you..you want that don't you?"
His pace grew faster, more urgent and pure greed taking over as he chased his pleasure and yours. One of his hands slipped between you, rubbing your clit in messy, desperate circles. Your whined, clenching around him. "Fuck 'ji plesse..im so close"
"Yeah? Cum on my cock doll. Milk me." you clenched hard around Toji as your orgasm hit. You hit his shoulder to muffle your scream, causing Toji to freeze. He cursed loudly and buried himself as deep as possible, pumping thick, hot loads of cum into you with greedy, stuttering thrusts. He held you down on him, making sure not a single drop escaped. You both sat there, breathless and needy.
"Again." he whispered, already starting to roll his hips again.
Suguru ✩ Geto – Envy
Being the disciplinarian of Camp Biscuits meant one thing. Order.
Suguru Geto had always been one to be orderly. He ensured the rules were carried out, kept the camp in order for Nanami and made sure everyone remained on their best behaviors.
So, what the hell was it with you?
You never once showed fear the authority in his voice nor have you listened. Instead you insisted on doing the complete opposite of keeping order.
You were always late to sessions, you refused to do what he said, he'd spot you by the river at midnight, half naked after being told not to go there.
Suguru hated it. He hated how much you ticked him off, he hated the fact you were so irresistible, he hated every moment of it.
You picked up on his unexplainable desire for you of course. It was only natural since..you wanted him too. Normally, you'd make your move on him but for once, you wanted him to break first.
So, it began with your teasing glances, the new found desire to obey the rules, the inappropriate clothes..flirting around with others.
Suguru catched on easily at what you wre trying. He wasn't stupid—obviously not. But..how could he really stop himself from temptation?
ᢉ𐭩⋆˚࿔
"You just couldn't help yourself, could you?" Suguru's voice was low and dangerously smooth, but laced with pure venom. He stood behind his desk, arms crossed, dark eyes burning with envy as he stared you down.
"Flirting with Satoru right in front of me? Knowing I was watching?" He stepped closer, tall and imposing, his long hair loose over one shoulder. The envy radiating off him was palpable— hot, ugly and starving.
"See, I think you wanted this. You wanted to make me jealous," he said, voice dropping even lower. "Guess what love? It worked."
"Mister Sug—" He cuts you off with his finger. Backing you against the wall, his mouth crashing against yours in a possessive angry kiss. His hands trailed down your body. Rough and greedy, sliding under your camp shirt and squeezing your breasts harshly. He broke the kiss, breathing heavilh. "These are mine, love. Not Gojo's or anyone else. Just mine."
"Mm...Suguru wait—" He spun you around and bent you over his desk, yanking your shorts and panties down in one harsh motion. Refusing to give you any time to speak.
You heard his belt and zipper, then felt the thick, heavy heat of his cock pressing against your soaked cunt. Suguru hissed. Rubbing his mushroom tip against your slit. "Shit. Look at you, already dripping...did flirting with him get you this wet? Hm?"
"Suguru s-stop talking and fuck me already—ah!"
Suguru pushed inside you with one deep thrust, burying his cock to the hilt. A broken moan left your throat as he stretched you open.
He groans at your tightness. Giving you a moment to adjust to the feeling of him inside. After a moment he starts fucking you with hard, deep strokes that made the desk creak beneath you. "See who's fuckin' you? Not him. Me. I see the way he looks at you and I want to kill him."
"Do you want a death on my hands, love?" Every thrust was fueled by jealousy. He gripped your hips tightly, pulling you back onto his cock like he was trying to claim you completely. "S-slow down—hah no..no killing please."
"Shut up." he grits, a hand sliding up to wrap around your throat. "I'm going to make sure every time you sit down tomorrow, you're going to feel me."
He leaned over you, lips brushing your ear as he drove into you faster. "Say it love. Tell me whose cock is ruining this pretty pussy right now." "Yours, Sugu—fuck, all yours" you gasped, your hips pushing back against him, chasing your orgasm.
"Good girl."
His pace turned punishing, hips snapping against your ass. "And I'm the only one who gets to fuck you. The only one who gets to fill you up."
His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles while his cock kept pounding into you. The pleasure got too much. You clenched around him desperately, eyes rolling back as you finally came around his cock and crying out his name. Suguru followed right after with a groan. Your grip on his cock so tight—literally milking him. He buried himself as deep as possible, pumping thick ropes of cum inside you, like he was marking his territory—which he was.
He stayed inside you for a long moment, breathing heavily against your neck, still twitching. "Don't ever test me like that again," he whispered, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to your shoulder.
"Maybe don't pretend you don't want me then.."
Suguru's eyes darkened at your words. "Oh yeah? Seems like I didn't discipline you enough yet."
Nanami ✩ Kento – Sloth
Nanami Kento was overworked and deprived of sex. Being the leader of Camp Biscuits came with it's pros and cons—mostly cons.
He had to work everyday regardless of the staff he had. He hated every single second of his job. Sometimes he'd wonder, was quitting easier? Or..perhaps a trip to Malaysia?
Of course none of those became reality. Nanami began slacking off as the weeks went on. Having you as a new member in his camp messed with his head more than he wanted to admit. Regardless of hating every minute of his job, he never slacked off. Never once broke his composure or his neat proper schedule.
But, you were so irresistible. A beautiful sweet lady always talking to him in the sweetest tone ever. In his mind, you were sent from the gods above to help him.
And he definitely made the most of this..blessing he'd like to say.
ᢉ𐭩⋆˚࿔
Nanami's private quarters was on the other side of the camp. Quiet and dimly lit. Nanami lounged back on the large leather couch. His shirt was unbuttoned, tie loosened and his blond hair slightly messy as he watched you with heavy-lidded eyes.
"You've been awfully restless lately, princess" he tells you. You've been teasing him for weeks after catching on his desire for you. At first, it started with innocent gestures before they got bolder. Bending over in front of him, "accidentally" brushing against his body, wearing shorter and shorter skirts whenever you saw him. Nanami pretended he hadn't notice your desperate acts. Afterall, how could he?
Instead, he waited until you needed him beyond resisting. Like tonight.
"Come here," he ordered calmly, patting his thigh. You straddled him without hesitation—too far gone before he even touched you. Nanami didn't move much. It was late at night and he was tired. To his surpise you werent wearing panties under that dress of yours. Your wetness soaking his pants.
He leaned back further, one hand resting on your waist while the other guided his thick, heavy cock out of his pants. He was already rock hard, veins pulsing and leaking pre as he rubbed the fat tip along your soaked slit. "Ride me princess."
He whispers—his eyes burning with quiet hunger. "Fuck yourself on my cock like a good girl yeah?"
"O-okay.." you mumbled, raising your hips before you sank down onto him with a shaky moan, stretching around his girth. Nanami let out a sigh of pleasure as your warm, wet cunt swallowed his every inch.
"That’s it..." he breathed, head tilting back against the couch. "Good girl."
His hand stayed steady on your hips—allowing you to choose the pace. Your moans and whining filled the room whenever you sank back down—allowing his tip to hit your cervix. His hands lazily squeezed your ass.
"Fuck princess look at you," he said quietly, voice roughening. "Such a desperate little thing aren't you?"
"Mngh—yes..please you feel so good."
You began picking up your pace, moaning as his cock dragged against every sweet spot inside you. Nanami's breathing grew heavier, every whimper you made felt like music.
"Faster princess," he commanded softly, eyes half-closed. "I want to feel you creaming all over me."
His fingers finally moved from your hips, trailing down to between you two. He lazily rubs slow circles on your clit while you bounced on his cock. The contrast between his relaxed posture and the filthy way his dick stretched you open was dizzying. "I—I can't anymore please..so tired Ken."
Your legs started shaking, orgasm approaching causing Nanami to take the lead. He thrusts up in you few from below, just enough to push you over the edge.You came hard, pussy clamping down around him as you cried out. Nanami groaned lowly, eyes fluttering shut in pure lazy bliss as he spilled deep inside you, thick ropes of cum flooding your cunt while he held you down on him.
Even after finishing, he didn't pull out yet. He wrapped one arm around you, keeping you seated on his cock as he relaxed back into the couch again, breathing steady. "Stay like this for a while princess..." he murmured, voice sleepy and satisfied.
Hiromi ✩ Higuruma – Lust
The elder's private quarters were quiet and dimly lit by candlelight. Hiromi Higuruma, one of the camp's most respected spiritual elders, had you sitting on the edge of his heavy oak desk with your legs spread obscenely wide. His dark eyes burned with pure, unfiltered lust as he stared at your glistening cunt like a starving man. "You keep coming to me night after night," he murmured, voice low and rough.
"...confessing how you touch yourself thinking about my mouth. How you soak your panties during my sermons just from watching my lips move."
He slowly sank to his knees in front of you, robe partially open, revealing his toned chest. Lust had completely consumed him. "Oh and I'm so done resisting."
Hiromi grabbed your thighs and yanked you forward roughly, burying his face between your legs. His hot tongue dragged straight up your dripping slit, licking a long, filthy stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit. The sudden pleasure causing you to jolt. A moan slipping past.
"Fuck...you taste even better than I imagined," he groaned against your cunt, the vibration making you twitch. He was shameless — loud, wet, and ravenous. He licked and sucked like a man possessed, tongue fucking deep into your hole before pulling back to swirl around your clit.
Two long fingers pushed inside you without warning, curling instantly against that spongy spot while his mouth latched onto your clit and sucked hard. You whimpered. Fingers gripping his hair as your hips bucked against his face.
Hiromi growled in approval, the sound vibrating through your core. He devoured you like a man starving. His nose bumping your clit as fingers pumping deep and fast inside fo you. Slick sounds filled the room as he ate you out like he'd been fantasizing about it for months.
"Look at this pretty cunt dripping all over my face," he groaned, pulling back just enough for you to see his chin and lips shiny with your juices. You blushed. Suddenly feeling embarrassed.
"Ugh can you..stop talking?"
"You were grinding on my face like a desperate slut and now you're embarrassed?" He smirks at your flustered face before he dives back in even more desperately, sucking your clit harder while his fingers curled and stroked that perfect spot inside you. His other hand gripped your thigh so tightly to ensure you couldn't escape.
"Hiro! W-wait fuck, I'm gonna cum—" you whimpered, legs shaking around his head. He doesn't stop. If anything, he became more aggressive. His fingers hit the sensitive part inside of you, sending you over the edge. You came hard, crying out his name as your cunt clenched around his fingers and gushed against his tongue.
Hiromi groaned. Licking and sucking up every drop like he was addicted, refusing to pull away even as you twitched and trembled from overstimulation. Your back arching as you try to escape. "T-too much I can't—"
He finally lifted his head, his eyes were glazed with lust, lips swollen and glistening. He pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, breathing heavily.
"Too much?" he grins, voice dark and dripping. "We're not done until I have you squirting on my tounge baby."
He leaned back in, flattening his tongue against your sensitive clit with a hungry groan. Your eyed rolling back. "Shut up and let me enjoy my meal."
Choso ✩ Kamo – Gluttony
Choso had never once encountered seduction or temptation during his years as a cleaner at Camp Biscuits. Make no mistake, he wasn't a virgin. After his first fuck, he never found anyone else interesting enough to focus on.
Until you.
Choso was inlove with you. The moment he was cleaning and some kid knocked over his supplies and you helped him? He fell inlove. Truly, you were an angel in his eyes.
And he'd do anything for you.
ᢉ𐭩⋆˚࿔
The camp's old storage cabin behind the mess hall was quiet and dimly lit. Choso had you pressed against a stack of wooden crates, his large hands gripping your thighs like he was afraid you'd disappear.
"I-I tried to stay away," he breathed, voice hoarse and shaky. "I really did...but you kept hanging out with me, smiling at me, letting me see you in those tiny shorts. I can't stop thinking about you. I'm so fucking hungry all the time. For you."
"Please let me taste you.." He whimpered dropping to his knees right there on the dusty floor. "Can I have you?"
You looked down at him, flustered and grinned. "Okay.."
That confirmation was all he needed. He yanked your shorts and panties down in one desperate tug—wasting no time to bury his face between your legs like a starving man. A deep, guttural moan ripped from his chest the second his tongue touched your pussy. His eyes rolling back at your taste.
"You taste so divine—hah..my angel." he groaned, licking long, messy stripes up your slit before sucking your clit into his mouth.
He was loud, sloppy shameless—eating you out like your cunt was the best thing he'd ever tasted in his life. Choso's hands squeezed your ass, pulling you harder against his face as he devoured you. Your hand gripped his hair, your head falling against the wall. "Yeah..mmm Cho just like that."
His tongue pushed inside you, fucking in and out while he moaned and hummed in pleasure, the vibrations shooting straight through your core.
Two thick fingers joined his tounge. Sliding deep into your soaked pussy and curling greedily. He couldn't get enough really—he kept pressing his face deeper, rubbing his nose against your clit while his tongue worked you relentlessly. Your grip on his hair tightened as your legs started shaking. Choso whimpered against your cunt when you clenched around his fingers, clearly loving every reaction you gave him.
"D-don't stop—please don't stop," you whimpered between the wet, filthy licks. Your moans served to motivate him. He sucked harder, fingers pumping faster, completely lost in pleasure.
When you finally came, crying out his name and gushing against his mouth, Choso moaned like he was the one orgasming. He licked and drank up every drop, refusing to pull away even as you twitched from sensitivity.
But he still wasn't satisfied. He stood up, breathing heavily, lips and chin shiny with your juices. Without a word he lifted you onto the crates, spread your legs wider and dropped back down to continue eating you out. "One more," he rasped, eyes glassy with hunger.
"Just one more please my angel." he whimpers, his tongue flattening against your sensitive clit again as he groaned in pure bliss.
୨୧ — You knew exactly what game you were playing- the sideway glances, brushes against Sukuna's thigh at breakfast, the way you bent over in that flimsy excuse for a skirt, ass practically begging for his handprint.
The final straw was the coffee shop, it had been calculated, deliberate- the way you'd pressed your tits against the counter, the sultry drop in your voice as you addressed the young barista who always served you. Sukuna stood rigid beside you, one massive hand wrapped around your daughter's tiny fingers, watching with murderous intensity as you let your fingers caress the barista's wrist like a fucking promise.
“Awh, you're wonderful,” you'd purred, “you always make the best coffee. I don't know how you do it.”
The barista had flushed, clearly imagining things he had no right to think about... Clearly oblivious to the death sentence being written in the crimson eyes boring into his skull.
Sukuna's hand had tightened around his daughter's, not enough to hurt -he was always careful with her- but enough that had her squeezing back with all her might. She had looked up at her father, giggling, “Papa doesn't like that man,” she'd announced plainly, loud enough for nearby customers to hear, “His face gets all scary when mama talks to him.”
Sukuna's lip had twitched, the barest hint of approval at his daughter's observation. He'd crouched down to her level, eyes softening just for her as they always did, “Smart girl,” he'd murmured, ruffling her hair gently.
Two fucking days without him- two days of him handling “business” that left him coming home with blood under his fingernails. Two days of an empty bed and pent up need that had you resorting to these dangerous games.
Now, with your daughter finally asleep, you hear him stalking down the hall. You're in the bathroom, dressed in nothing but his white t-shirt, bent over the counter in a pose that's anything but innocent. Pretending to pluck your eyebrows.
The bathroom door whumps against the wall hard enough to rattle the medicine cabinet. You freeze, tweezers hovering near your eyebrow. In the fog streaked mirror, his reflection looms like a nightmare carved from granite- jaw clenched, veins snaking down his neck. “Think you're fucking clever, don't you?” His voice is dangerously soft, “Teasing me in front of our own kid, knowing i wouldn't act up in front of her.”
“I don't know what you're talking abou-“
The lie earns you exactly what you wanted- one massive arm snaking around your neck in a controlled chokehold. His other hand grips your hip hard enough to bruise, yanking you back against his rigid cock, “You've been asking for it since I got back. Teasing me, flaunting yourself at that pathetic barista.”
“Two days,” you gasp, “You left me alone for two days.”
His laugh is a dark thing against your neck, “So you decide to pull this shit?”
“Y-yes,” you managed, voice breathy and tight as his chokehold tightened fractionally, enough to make your vision blur, enough to remind you of his absolute control over your body in this moment.
“You know there are better ways to get my attention than flirting with some worthless shit who makes coffee for a living,” he growled, his free hand moving to your breast, squeezing roughly through your shirt. “Ways that don't make me want to drag you out of a public place by your hair.”
“This is s'more fun,” you gasped as his fingers found your nipple.
Sukuna's eyes darkened dangerously in the bathroom mirror, “Fun?” he growled, his other arm snaked around your neck in a vicious headlock, his tattooed bicep crushing against your throat as he twisted your nipple between his fingers, “You think playing with fire is fun, woman?”
His free hand abandoned your breast, dropping to yank up the t-shirt -his t-shirt- that barely covered your ass. He exposed your bare cunt to the cool bathroom air, your puffy pussy lips already drenched with your slick.
“No panties,” he observed, voice deadly calm, “Walking around my house, taking care of my kid, dressed like a fucking whore with your cunt ready to be split open on my cock.”
His large hand came down on your ass with a resounding crack. “Two days,” he mocked, delivering another sharp slap, “Two fucking days handling business, and you act like a bitch in heat the minute I'm back, practically drooling over some coffee boy's dick...”
“I- I missed you,” you admitted breathlessly, grinding your ass back against his hardening bulge.
“Missed me?” Another devastating smack landed, “Or missed getting your needy cunt stuffed full of my cock?”
His fingers roughly parted your folds, finding you embarrassingly wet, “Fucking soaked,” he hissed, plunging two fingers knuckle-deep without warning, "Look at you dripping down your thighs just from being manhandled. What would that barista think seeing what a desperate cumslut you really are?”
Your walls clenched around his digits at the degradation, pussy practically weeping as he fingerfucked you just got you liked it. “P-lease,” you mewled, “m’need-”
“Please what, whore?” he demanded, curling his fingers to hit that spongy spot inside that made your knees buckle. “Please wreck your pussy? Please put you in your fucking place? Please remind you who this cunt belongs to?”
“Yes!” you sobbed, grinding shamelessly against his hand, “All -ohfuck- all of it!”
Sukuna's arm tightened around your throat, cutting off just enough air to make you lightheaded before releasing you only to fist your hair instead, wrenching your head back at a vicious angle.
“On your knees,” he ordered as he withdrew his fingers to unbuckle his belt.
You dropped to the cold tile without hesitation, spinning to face him as he pulled out his cock- thick as your wrist, veined, the swollen head already leaking precum. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of it.
“This what you been thinking about while I’ve been away?” he asked, fisting his length and slapping it across your cheek, smearing his precum on your skin. “This fat cock that you'd risk pissing me off for?”
“Always,” you admitted shamelessly, eyes locked on his, tongue darting out to taste him.
“Show me,” he demanded, pressing his cockhead against your lips, “Show me how much youve missed this- missed me…”
You parted your mouth obediently, taking him as deep as you could in one gulp. His fist tightened in your hair, holding you in place as your throat convulsed around his girth.
“Fuck,” he grunted, the first crack in his control, “Look at you choking yourself on my cock like you were born for it. World’s prettiest mom on her knees acting like a whore on a corner.”
Tears streamed down your face as you struggled with his size- even after all these years you still weren’t used to his sheer size… but you didn't pull back. Instead you hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard while working your tongue against the thick vein on the underside. Knowing it would drive him insane and earn you a roses blush on his face~.
“That's it,” he praised, mouth hung open as he pants, “Use that pretty mouth for what it's good for.”
His hips began moving, small thrusts that gradually deepened until he was fucking your face, watching your makeup run and spit drip down your chin. You moaned around him, the vibrations making his thighs shake as he hits the back of your throat. His whole idea was to punish that mouth of yours for running it earlier, but he can’t stop thinking about fucking you- spilling inside you filling your womb… Yeah, he needed that. Now.
“Get up,” he ordered, yanking out suddenly, leaving you gasping and drooling- hauling you to your feet by your hair.
Before you could breathe, he bent you over the counter again, shoving your face against the cool surface. The position forcing your ass high, completely exposed and vulnerable for him to use you as he pleases.
“Look at yourself,” he commanded, one hand gripping your neck to pin you down.
You looked into the mirror best you could- flushed cheeks, mascara streaked, lips swollen and glistening. Behind you, Sukuna's tattooed form dominated like some ancient war god claiming his sacrifice.
“Who owns this pussy?” he asked, his cockhead pressing against your entrance but not entering.
“You do,” you gasped, trying to push back only to be held firmly in place, “Only you, Sukuna. No one else.”
“And who's the only one who gets to wreck it?” he continued, rubbing his length through your syrupy folds without giving you what you and he needed.
“You,” you repeated desperately, “Sukuna, Please- I need your cock inside me! I’m so sorr-“
“Not until you admit what a manipulative cocktease you've been today,” he snarled, delivering another spank to your reddened ass.
“I teased you!!! I teased you on purpose because I missed this- flirted with him to make you jealous-“
A smile curved his lips, “At least you're honest” he murmured, positioning himself again, “Now take what you've been begging for.”
He slammed into you with one thrust, splitting you open on his cock. The brutal stretch tore a scream from your throat that echoed off the walls. Sukuna's arm immediately locked around your neck in another chokehold.
“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed against your ear, his bicep crushing your windpipe, “Unless you want to wake our daughter and explain why mommy's getting her brains fucked out...”
When another moan escaped your lips, his arm tightened around your neck viciously, cutting off your air until black spots danced in your vision and your struggles grew weak.
“I said quiet,” he growled, his other hand gripped your hip with bruising force as he maintained his punishing rhythm.
His pace was relentless, each stroke hitting your cervix and that spongy spot inside that had your eyes rolling back. Every time you got too loud his arm flexed around your throat until your legs started to buckle.
“Gonna flood this tight cunt-,” he muttered, pace becoming erratic- his cock dragging against your walls, rubbing your gummy insides raw, “put another baby in your womb so that barista knows exactly who you spread your legs for.”
The image sent you hurtling toward the edge- you pregnant again, belly swollen with his child, undeniably his in every way possible.
“Yes-“ you agreed in the barest whisper, “d-do it, wan’it- want you to put another in me-“
His free hand found your clit, circling it until a frothy white mess of your cream formed around his base as he destroyed you.
“Come on my cock,” he ordered, his arm loosening around your throat.
It hits like a fuse- white noise, bright shards behind your eyelids, knees threatening to give. You don’t make a sound, not this time, your lips part on a silent cry, the mirror catching the moment you dissolve, your body seizing and fluttering against him until you’re boneless, breathless, trembling.
He follows a heartbeat later, the fluttering of your walls triggering his release- hot spurts of cum flooding your womb as he buried himself impossibly deep… driving you into the counter with one final, possessive grind. “Fuck-“ he groaned, as his body covered yours completely, his arm still locked around your throat, his breathing ragged…
For several long moments, neither of you moved, the only sounds your ragged breathing and the distant hum of the building's heating system. Finally, Sukuna straightened, carefully withdrawing before turning you to face him.
To your surprise, there was something almost tender in his expression now, the earlier fury burned away by release. One large hand came up to cup your face, thumb gently wiping away a tear you hadn't even realized had fallen.
“You don't need to pull that shit to get my attention,” he said quietly, crimson eyes searching yours. “I know two days is too long. I'll figure something out.”
The sudden vulnerability in his admission caught you off guard. This was the side of Sukuna no one ever saw- the man beneath the monster, capable of genuine emotion despite his best efforts to suppress it.
“I missed you,” you murmured, leaning into his touch. “Not just... this. You.”
Something softened in his gaze, “Could have just said that instead of eye fucking some random barista in front of our brat.”
A small smile curved your lips, “But then I wouldn't have gotten bent over the bathroom counter.”
Sukuna snorted, but there was amusement in his eyes now, “Manipulative little thing, aren't you?”
“I learned from the best,” you countered with a playful wink, wrapping your arms around his neck.
He lifted you with ease, carrying you out of the bathroom toward the bedroom. To your surprise, he didn't head straight for the bed, but made a detour down the hall, pushing open your daughter’s door with his foot.
The nightlight cast a soft glow over your daughter's sleeping form, her tiny chest rising and falling with peaceful breaths, one small hand clutching the stuffed duck Sukuna had won for her at a festival last summer.
Sukuna stood in the doorway, still holding you against his chest, something unreadable in his expression as he watched over his little girl.
“You really meant it?” he finally asked, voice barely audible, “About another one?”
The hesitation in his tone -so at odds with his usual confidence- made your heart skip a beat.
“Yes,” you said softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw, “i want that- another baby with you… Have for a while now, but… You and her have something so precious.”
Relief and satisfaction flickered across his face before he schooled his expression back to its usual impassive mask. “Good,” he said simply, pulling her door closed again before carrying you to your bedroom. “Because I wasn’t kidding about going back and showing that punk who knocked you up.”
[ SUM ] — college soccer coach toji has a secret admirer. but how secret is it when most of the highlights in the school paper are photos of him, instead of the players scoring goals?
[ TAGS ] — MDNI 18+ ONLY. nsfw. piv. raw. unprotected. age gap (mid 30s x early 20s). slight exhibitionism. HEAVY CREAMPIE. FAT BULGE. spanking. CUNNILINGUS. oral f!recieving. dacryphilia. reader kinda freaky. thick dark sexy HAPPY TRAIL. nudity. SHOWER SEX. SCENT KINK. pet names. spitting. wc: 19.1k
[ A/N ] — inspired by coach!toji from my fratkuna series. I was gooning too much whenever I’d mention him soooo
photo-journalism can mean many things. at its core though is documentation and being present. it’s about recording what happens so it doesn’t vanish into the noise of the world. and that’s what you’ve been doing since you started uni.
working for the school newspaper means covering everything that matters to the university. big events, games, and when you attend a school with a division 1 soccer team, that’s ranked the top of the country, it means your weekends are spent on the sidelines of the pitch. floodlights humming overhead, cleats tearing into the turf, and the air sharp with anticipation.
everyone’s eyes are on the match, on the players, the scoreline, and the inevitable victory. everyone’s, except yours.
your lens has a habit of drifting. and it always finds him on the sidelines, the head coach.
standing just outside the white chalk lines. shaggy raven hair that never looks styled, stubble he clearly forgot—or chose not—to shave that morning. his infamous scar pulling at his lips as he shouts. he wears the same black team jacket unzipped, sleeves rolled up his thick forearms. when he folds his arms or gestures sharply toward the field, you always catch his muscles shifting beneath the fabric, veins flexing making it so impossible to ignore.
it’s just a photographer’s eye for striking subjects. for sure….
he beautifully contrasts against the chaos of the game…even if he’s shouting, or breaking his clipboard…. still, you capture him mid-shout, mid-thought, jaw clenched as he’s holding the entire team together.
and then later, when the photos run, and his photos dominate the highlights more than the actual goal, well, you pretend not to notice how often your name sits beneath them in a small, neat printed font.
he doesn’t know you. you’re just another person with a camera on the sidelines. you’re just another face in a sea of professional press badges, not just one of the universities many photographers. but you know him. you know the way his brows pinch when one of his players gets injured, the way his mouth twitches when his team scores, and the way he exhales with relief when the game ends.
and you keep clicking the shutter button—
“again?!” the head editor exclaims. “you didn’t get the goal?”
“I did!” you huff, glaring at the senior grad student who basically runs the entire school newspaper.
“not the first one, the final goal! the one scored by the universities ace! sukuna—“
“god forbid i missed a shot, I basically got everything else, plus I’m not the only one taking photos on the pitch. don’t you have other photographers?” you tsk, arms crossed.
he glares at you behind his desk, clicking through the photos you’d uploaded. “you got every single expression of the damn coach,” he mutters under his breath, clicking through one of toji shouting, then another of him spitting on the grass, then another of him scratching his jaw—
you nibble on your cheek, slouching slightly in the seat.
“you hate when we use someone else’s photos,” he adds, licking his teeth as he finally gets to your photos of the actual players. and they were spectacular. the action shots were perfect, you can see the sweat dribbling down their foreheads.
“because it’s my job,” you mutter, glancing at your editor who frowns when the photos return back to the head coach.
“unbelievable,” he mumbles, exhaling slowly as he sits back in his seat. “you’re killing me.”
your heel kicks the floor. this wasn’t a first. this happens almost every time. your lens just happens to drift away from the ball and fall on the head coach.
even with fans shouting in the stands, and the other cameras flashing in the other direction. your camera can’t help but find coach toji in the chaos. he was just as important as the team. he’s acting like toji isn’t mentioned a million times in the articles! god forbid you want him getting his flowers. but your editor wasn’t very appreciative of your sympathies.
“we’re going with these three, and taking one from the other photographers for the final goal you didn’t get,” he sighs, showing you your three photos, one of the team celebrating, another of satoru gojo sprinting across the field with the ball, and of course, the final — and in your opinion the best — of head coach toji standing with his muscular arms crossed at the start of the second half.
your editor rolls his eyes turning his screen back to him. “if you bring another folder and it’s seventy percent of this damn coach, I’ll drop you and pull noah up.”
the threat has you lowering your head and muttering a hesitate okay, because at the end of the day, you were the only photographer that worked full time for the paper, and you go to every single match. the rest are focused on other stories, or working their way to become editors.
while you liked photo-journalism more. it helped, that on weekends, you got someone to admire. and your editor was not the only one that’s noticed.
“what the hell, you’ve got to be kidding me,” geto huffs, snatching the paper from gojo as he sits on the pitch. “why am I never in these damn fucking articles??” he huffs with anger
“score more goals,” gojo sticks his tongue out, just to get kicked harshly by his friend.
“I fucking scored this game,” geto snaps, grumbling even more as he flips through the paper, seeing the team celebrating.
sukuna chugs his water behind them, “my picture sucks ass,” he grumbles, spitting the water right beside their goalie making him jerk back in annoyance. “you didn’t score, but I get the shit picture?” he snaps lowly at gojo.
geto frowns, “I scored, and at least you get a picture.”
gojo chuckles, pointing at the next photo, making the entire team roll their eyes simultaneously.
“some things never change,” one teammate, yuno, mutters. his hands are on his hips as him and the rest of the team glare at the immaculate, pristine, jaw-dropping photo captured of their strict, grumpy, nicotine addicted head coach, toji.
sukuna snarls as geto looks like he’s going to fucking tear out his luscious black hair. “fucking unbelievable.”
gojo snorts even louder, snatching the paper just to wave it from his place on the ground towards toji, who’d just gotten off the phone. “coach! you’re mogging the cameras again!”
toji’s brows pinch until he notices the photo. and it’s always the same reaction from the head coach. his eyes scan over the photo, then they fall down to the same printed name underneath. “not bad,” he casually says, handing back the newspaper like it’s nothing.
but the entire team is seething, with the exception of gojo laughing his ass off.
“I finally figured out who your secret admirer is,” gojo announces, “it’s definitely the cutie with the charm on her camera and stickers on her flashlight.”
geto raises a brow “how d’ya know that?” the rest of the team immediately huddle in.
gojo clears his throat.
“for the last few games I’ve been purposely fixing my shoes or drinking water on the sidelines where they’re all huddled up. obviously I ruled out all the old farts, then I narrowed it down to the ladies. then i crossed out the outside press, but it’s hard since I can’t see all their press badges—but then i noticed,” gojo holds up the newspaper, slapping his index finger on your name beneath the photo. the entire team have basically memorized your full name by now. “she was the only one still photographing the field, BUT it was pointed at coach,” gojo points to toji.
“AND,” gojo continues, “she had this cute little charm on her camera, and this sticker. and it’s definitely your secret admirer,” gojo confidently smiles.
however, geto scratches his jaw, glancing at gojo then the newspaper. “so which one was her instagram?”
oh right, gojo rubs his neck in disappointment.
your name under a majority of the game’s photos started catching the teams attention a couple months ago. your credentials at the bottom of the article was always signed with your first and last name. however, when the team caught on to your not-so secret admiration for their coach, and neglect of the rest of team, they tried stalking you.
yet, they couldn’t find a single social media handle. not your instagram, twitter, tiktok — even your linkedIn was just the default linkedIn pfp. and the school paper website didn’t have a photo for you. either way, the team was on a mission.
“I don’t think her socials are even under her name,” gojo admits, making the team groan.
toji, silently watching the ordeal transpire, claps his hands, breaking the gossip. “enough, continue your drills unless ya wanna stay till sunset!”
once the team finally finishes practice and began packing their gear. neither one of them notices the students enjoying the nice weather on campus, or the girl that take a detours to walk past the field.
your eyes easily fall on your perfect subject. his hand cracks his neck as he stifles a yawn, kicking the soccer ball towards one of the players as they kick it up, tucking it under their arm.
it was a routine….one that you found yourself subconsciously doing on practice days. you would follow the path down from the quad, until you reach the second soccer field on campus, mainly used for practice and training.
your bag hangs off your shoulder along with your camera — the lens was downsized to your fixed 24mm and the flash wasn’t on — that’s usually how your camera is when you aren’t at events, or games.
it isn’t uncommon to watch the schools infamous soccer team practice. especially when half of them are also part of a fraternity. hell, on the other side of the field were a few girls fawning over the sweaty players.
in other words, you don’t stand out. and you’re unbothered by the hot players that glance your way as they pack their bags. well, until a certain white haired player is squinting across the field, before muttering a quiet “no way…”
geto gives his friend a look, lifting his duffle over his shoulder as sukuna wipes his face with the hem of his jersey, “what?” he grumbles.
gojo’s bag hit the grass. he locks eyes with you. then he does the worst thing imaginable. he shouts your name.
the entire team snap their necks in your direction. gojo suddenly leads the pack of six foot whatever college men across the field — their bags drop, cleats half untied, some bare foot. but all on one mission.
you.
the color immediately drains from your face. your body freezes like a deer in headlights. and when the entire team of sweaty, built, hot men crowd the waist-high fence that separate them from you. you’re ultimately stuck.
“you’re-you’re—“ slightly out of breath and pumped full of adrenaline, gojo heaves out your name. not just a first name, no—your full government name. “right!?”
you eyes lazily drag between the men, fixing the strap of your bag, your camera clinking against the side, drawing every man’s attention to the little charm gojo had just described less than an hour ago.
“yeah,” you manage to exhale, shifting your balance. “did you need something?”
“yeah,” the low voice of the hot headed team captain interrupts. he hadn’t ran with rest of the players, instead he walked up, casual and full of loud confidence. finally making his way across the field, energy drink in hand, glaring right through you as he continues. “why the fuck was my picture the only one not taken by you? it looks like shit.”
you exhale, about to answer when another one cuts in.
“why haven’t you taken one of me? the game last month was my debut and you didn’t get me going on the pitch—“
“I liked that shot you got of me when—“
“can you get my good side next time—“
“why did you—“
“can you—“
“you didn’t get my goal!” geto manages to dogpile. all the men yell complaints and compliments, overwhelming you with critiques. until you’re frowning, glaring harshly at the group of men you’d watched from a distance since your freshman year.
“I don’t work for you guys,” you finally snap. your words are cold making the men frown. “I work for the schools paper, and they choose the photos, not me.”
“and yet coach is in every single one of em?” geto bites back, and that’s when they all catch the slight surprise that crosses your face.
gojo smirks, leaning over the fence, getting close as he tilts his head. “seems like a majority of your photos have our coach. it’s like your editor can’t help but be forced to put him in.”
you feel your stomach churn, glancing between the sharp sapphire eyes. “that’s not how it works,” you mutter.
you did not expect your first interaction with the soccer team to be this. accusing you of favoritism. you can practically feel all their eyes on you, like they knew exactly who you are, even if this is your first time speaking to them.
“sure looks like it,” sukuna drawls, smirking wide when he sees you shift uncomfortably. “you like our coach or somethin?”
“of course she does,” geto’s smooth voice cuts in. “do you get all hot lookin at coach toji?”
you swallow thickly, pushing down the heat crawling up your neck to glare at the men. “you guys are disgusting,” you spit, but the men don’t falter, instead they continue gloating and poking.
“we just wanna get to know you. you’ve been takin’ our pics for months, we can’t have a chat now?” geto cuts.
they were quietly impressed with your composure. your poker face would’ve been perfect if not for the slight fidgeting you’re doing with your bag and camera strap. either way, your glare was mean, unwavering until—
“cut it out.”
the sharp voice slices through the team. then, one strong palm shoves gojo into geto, and the rest of the team topple on each other like dominos. the head coach plants himself between the fence, his team, and you.
“i forget you’re all a couple children,” toji tsks, his arms are crossed standing like a lone knight keeping a pack a wolves from a poor princess.
your heart slams against your rib cage. all your composure evaporates into thin air, struggling to catch your breath. this was the closest you’ve gotten to the head coach. you can practically smell the mixture of his cologne and natural musk. your cheeks grow hotter by the second, completely dazed and loosing all other senses, unaware that practically half the team noticed your sudden shift.
gojo elbows geto eyeing the way your pupils basically turn into bright pink hearts. even your lips look more glossy from the drool collecting in your mouth.
they’d never seen anything like it, and for their coach of all people?!
you’re caught up in gawking at the huge man, eyeing his wide shoulders, the veins straining from his compression shirt, his shirt clinging to every muscle that could break you in a blink of an eye — that you miss his short lecture towards his boys to quit scaring off a young woman, all to end with him shouting—
“ten more laps!”
the team’s eyes bulge, jaws dropping in shock, and quickly follow up with a spew of complaints.
“ya heard coach!” sukuna, the hot-headed captain, interrupts. and if the team wasn’t scared of their coach, they definitely had a reason to be with their captain. they ultimately drop their things and start their laps. however, sukuna hangs back at bit, “I didn’t even say sh—“
“you were late to practice, so you were gonna do the laps anyways,” toji cuts, earning a loud tsk from the tattooed captain. his duffle drops on the floor dramatically, eyes flicking towards yours, which — no surprise — haven’t left the coach’s profile, and with his own groan, his cleats hit the grass starting his lap.
with the entire team running laps….you’re left alone.
coach toji doesn’t move.
instead, he leans against the fence, strong arms crossing. you’re barely a foot behind him, close enough that the scent of grass and dizzy cologne reaches you when he shifts his weight. close enough that your brain short-circuits again.
then he looks over his shoulder.
it’s not rushed or sharp. it was an easy turn of his head, his dark emerald eyes flick to you with calm, assessing. and up close, he’s worse. he’s broader than he looks from the sidelines, his stubble shadowing his jaw feels unfair for a sunday morning. sunlight catches the edge of his cheekbone, and the curve of his mouth makes you stare shamelessly especially when it lifts just slightly. he’s amused by something you’re not aware of yet and you don’t even notice.
your heart stutters.
you practically forget how to stand or how to function like a grown ass adult, instead you feel like someone who’s just had their fantasy materialize directly in front of them.
heat rushes to your face, your chest tightens, and you pray, desperately, that your expression isn’t as transparent as it feels. you focus on keeping your hands still, even as your pulse flutters wildly under your skin.
and toji’s gaze lingers. he takes you in like the way someone experienced does, without staring, without shame, just a brief glance that drifts. from your fidgeting fingers, to your necklace trapped between your pretty cleavage, to the tank top that hugs your chest, to the zip up hoodie falling off your soft shoulder. to your lips, wet from the amount of times you’d lick and bit them.
and you still don’t notice it! you’re too busy trying not to melt into the grass beneath your feet. all you register is how hot the space suddenly feels, how solid he seems standing there.
from the field, a player snickers mid-lap. a majority watching the entire interaction, waiting for someone to make a move. gojo snickers as geto analyzes.
you don’t hear any of it, all you know is that the knights are real, and he’s right in front of you, and your carefully maintained composure never stood a chance. especially when his eyes meet yours and his deep, husky, voice sinks into your bones.
“been wondering who was seein’ me like that, sweetheart.”
you were gone.
s-s-s-sweetheart!?
your heart bursts, veins burning through your skin as your lips part, words falling into the void as your brain struggles to reply.
and he finds it adorable.
college girls are cute, but you, you’re a little pervert. how many photos have you taken of him? and for the past year too? he’s wondered just like his team had, who was behind all those photos. who was oogling him while the best team in the nation was playing right before their eyes?
at first, he was bothered, confused even, how big of a stalker did you have to be to take his photos for months and not introduce yourself?
but now he sees it. the way you’re struggling to find words. the way your eyes flick between his — surprised even that you’re not shying away from eye contact, but instead, struggling to just respond. like the words are right there, but your dumb brain is getting fried just by his presence. cute.
“I’ll try an’ wink next time.”
he just hammers the nail straight into your heart. your face bursts into flames as you let out a strangled hum like whine, face burning even more. unfortunately, your audience isn’t as silent. instead a few had caught your reaction and were bursting with laughter. a few whistling at their coach.
“she’s too young for ya, coach!”
“get someone y’er own age!”
“coach, the shy ones are the freakiest!”
the last one — somehow — snapped you back to reality. your glare cut through the field, immediately hitting one of the players making him burst out laughing along with the others around him. your face pulls into a scowl, heart hammering at the teasing you’re receiving from the team. who even are they? they don’t know anything about you!
shy?! you?!!! you scowl in annoyance, eyes rollin—
“ignore em, sweetheart. they’re just being dicks.”
fuck.
your face burns hot again, heart hammering against your ribs as you stutter out another nod, fingers gripping your bag as you glance at the head coach again. his green eyes were unbelievably dark, just staring at them, you felt like you were getting dizzy.
the scar on his lip twitches up, leaning an elbow on the fence, his eyes flick down to your camera. “what kinda camera is that?”
your eyes widen, looking down like you’re surprised it’s there. but it seems like he flicks a switch in your brain with that question, because now you’re fumbling to hold the delicate thing in your hands. then you hold it out for him.
a small puff of air leaves his nose in amusement. you’re cute. he turns, reaching his hand out, just for your small ones to place the expensive camera in his. the same one you’d deny your friends from even holding, afraid they’ll drop it.
b-but if coach toji holds it…if he wants to hold it…who…who are you to stop him!!!
your blush only breaks out across your body once you feel your hands brush his, eyes so bright and big even he can see the hearts explode from your irises, fuzzy pink flowers glowing around your head like a cartoon.
“looks expensive,” he finally takes his eyes away from you to momentarily examine the camera. it was nice, sony. “bought it yourself?”
you nod, smiling as you rock on your heels. “it was…” oh first words, toji’s eyes flick to you, eyeing your glossy lips as they part. “my first big purchase,” you glance at the camera then back up at toji as you point with your manicured index finger, towards the camera. “it’s nice…right?”
well fuck me.
toji chuckles internally. he really can’t read you. from rude (to the team), to shy, to snappy (to the team), to demure, to charming—all while looking up at him like he’s some shinning knight and not a coach, albeit for the best team in the nation, but still.
his lips curl up, his internal switch already flipped when he shooed the team away, and the smooth voice of his poured out like second nature. “very nice, sweetheart.”
you nod, enthusiastically.
god, you were a cutie.
“and you take such good pictures with it too, you’re a natural,” the sweet words just keep pouring from his mouth like honey, and you’re eating up every drop. your feet manage to carry you closer to the fence…closer to him.
you wet your glossy lips, leaning close to point at the camera, “it also takes video here…I initially wanted to do more videography, but I stuck with photos. but it’s a nice perk with the camera…and I can shoot in raw and jpeg, so I can edit them afterwards if I want, and uh and I have other lenses too. this one is a fixed one, so it can’t zoom, but I have two other ones that zoom, I usually use those ones for work…like during your….games.”
your rambling was one of, if not, the most attractively adorable things you could’ve done at this moment. especially when you’re oblivious to the light flush that settles in the coach’s stomach as he eyes you down.
his gaze flicks between your fingers on the camera, and your profile from his height. your hair lightly brush’s back from the wind exposing your neck, your perfume reaching his nose.
“can I try takin’ a pic?”
your face bursts hot, you feel like it’ll melt off as you gawk up at the head coach, before nodding your head frantically, a wide smile pulling at your lips. you try to clear your throat as you turn the camera on for him and take the lens cap off.
“good?” he asks.
you just nod again, biting your cheek feeling how wide you’re smiling it almost hurts, but you can’t take your eyes off the way his big hands handle your camera. your biggest crush ever is using your camera!
you contain a squeal as he stands straight. he brings the camera to his eye, before lowering it again, confused. your eyes widen momentarily before realizing he’s struggling and quickly stepping up again.
you lean over the fence. and toji purposely avoids coming down to your height. instead, he watches you hold the fence to stand on your tippy toes, the other gently holds his wrist to ask him to lower the camera just a bit from his eye so you can instruct him. fuck, the confidence to touch him when you were just a jittery mess a second ago.
“the shutter button is here. if you half press it, it’ll auto-focus for you—“ you move to the front of the camera flipping some switch, “jus’ turned it on. but just press down all the way and it’ll take the picture,” you say, mistakenly glancing up from where you are, just to realize that coach toji’s face is inches from yours. his warm breath fans against your cheek, his scar so close, his lips right there and his eyes….
you were beyond gone. the steam immediately comes off your face as your eyes turn into big giant hearts. you’re so easy to read it should be illegal.
you fall back on your heels, allowing toji to attempt again. what you weren’t expecting was for him to point the camera at you.
well considering the wider lens, I guess he wants to shoot something closer for more satisfaction. but it caught you slightly off guard, your cheeks flame once more, heart stuttering, but your face immediately lights up.
his lips curve up behind the camera, watching you give him a cute smile, angling your head to tip to the side a bit. people that automatically smile when a camera is pointed at them is definitely a cute trait.
he takes a few quick photos, before pulling the camera back. “how do I see ‘em?”
this time he lowers the camera for you, but keeps it close to his body so you’re still leaning over and up beside him, albeit with the fence between you both.
“ah the sun was behind me,” you realize now looking at the photos. toji hums like he knows what that means (he doesn’t) but he clicks the button to go to the next picture and same thing.
“let’s do it again,” he says, already pulling the camera back, but your finger quickly reaches out, easily flipping it back to view mode before moving back. toji watches you glance up at the sky, before moving yourself in front of the sun. “smile f’er me, sweetheart.”
you were smiling, but now—toji chuckles through his nose at your reaction. he knows exactly what he’s doing. he takes one photo, than another.
your smile turns more pose worthy, not so big, but just as beautiful. “you’re a natural,” he comments, with full honesty.
your cheeks flush, waving your hand in front of you, “don’t glaze me.”
toji snorts, “jus’ saying what I see, not my fault you pose like a model.”
a model?!
toji notices the way you bite your cheek and the way your hands fidget with your bag. “put the bag down, sweetheart.”
your heart skips again, the nickname electing a response from you every time. but you oblige, setting your bag on the ground. now without anything to fidget with, your hands carefully clasp behind your back, your navy hoodie completely off your shoulder, exposing the casual white tank top. his eyes glance at the swell of your tits that your bra pushes up. and the sliver of skin that peaks at the bottom.
the wind was like a perfect accessory, blowing a warm spring breeze in your direction brushing your hair again.
you do your best to pose casually, smiling at the camera, eyes low as you stare into the lens, heart beating erratically as you wait for coach toji to finish.
your breath catches momentarily. cheeks stinging and lips parting like a deer in headlights, because you notice it. just briefly, the way toji lowers the camera from his eye, gaze tracking down your figure, eyeing your thighs, then your hips, then your tits.
he’s definitely checking you out.
you glance away, flustered, unaware that toji was now clicking the library to view the photos he’d just taken.
“I think I’m a pretty good shot,” he compliments his nonexistent skills, but the light hits you so well.
you smile watching him look at the photos. eyes glued to his lazy smirk, stomach hot and heart fluttering at his short comments. he’s so handsome, you glance at the curve of his nose, the stubble on his cheek. he’s so so pretty.
your mind was getting dizzy, all because coach toji is in front of you, but it made you completely forgetful that if he keeps clicking next, it’ll eventually reach—
“oh.”
you first notice the slight raise of his brows, then the scar on his lip twitching wider, then the greens of his eyes darkening.
“did ya’ submit these too, sweetheart?”
your brows furrow for half a second, then it clicks. you lunge forward.
this can’t be happening!
you immediately cover the screen and take the camera as you hear the coach chuckle. of course you’d forgotten that you had these on your sd card.
staring back at you is a photo of toji’s fat bulge from the game. you managed to catch the moment he reached down to itch himself, grabbing it. if he saw this one he definitely saw the three before this of the closeups of his lips, his big biceps, his ass when he was fixing his shoes.
your heart is beating in your ears, skin sizzling with embarrassment as your vision starts to narrow. your eyes flick up to the coach in horror, flustered beyond speech. “it’s not—“ you struggle to explain, “you weren’t supposed to see that. I was just taking one—then I someone bumped so like, the camera went down—“
the rambling was unlike the one before, this one was much more uncoordinated, fueled by your humiliation, anxiety, and desperate attempt at defending yourself to him, so that he doesn’t think you’re some creep.
“I wore that shirt from the match two weeks ago. not this one….” his head tilts, arms folded across his beefy chest. “why do you still have ‘em?”
the older man is quite unbothered. instead, his chest grew hot, and his mind wandered off imagining this hot college girl laying in her bed, staring at pictures of his crotch with her small fingers playing with her wet little pussy. his eyes flick to your chest again.
your eyes are wide, glancing at your camera.
“I just forgot to format the card,” you quickly reply, pretty chest rising and falling. “I always forget, and I realize after when I’m exporting the photos or run out of storage—I delete them, i-i swear!”
he snorts, head tilting, “you swear?”
you nod frantically.
his emerald eyes narrow, tongue poking out to wet his lips, touching his scar. his eyes flick to the camera in your hands. you’re quite the actor…
“okay, I’ll take your word then. you wouldn’t lie to me…?” his gaze was intimidating, the darkness of his pupils felt like a black hole pulling you in. but somehow you manage to shake your head.
“no, sir.”
toji holds eye contact, before tearing it away to reach for his phone, “good girl.”
your heart beats in your throat, threatening to tear out, but you step forward, eyes big and sad. “sorry, coach.” there’s a slight waver in your voice, the man’s eyes widen briefly, chuckling under his breath as he brings a hand up to the crown of your head.
“don’t worry about it, keep taking photos of me. ya’ make me feel important,” his comment is punctuated with a flirtatious wink, shooting another arrow straight into your heart.
you were lovestruck the entire trip home. and so unbelievably grateful.
you talked your way out of such incriminating evidence. because how could coach toji know that in truth, you have an entire album of photos just like the ones he saw, that you pull out almost every night to help you cum.
you really should be an actor, you think, blushing at the way he called you good girl. the way he looked at you, the way his fingers brushed yours on the camera —ahhhh, you bury your hot face in your hands.
you were in shock for days, heart slamming against your chest and face heating up every time you thought back to the moment.
you were so in your head that you hadn’t even noticed the two athletes walking up behind you on your way out of class, crossing the quad.
it’s like that thing that happens. when you’re finally introduced to someone for the first time, then you’re suddenly seeing them everywhere. that’s how geto and gojo felt. you’d been under their noses the entire time.
with a lecture of over two hundred students, of course they’d spot you when you entered today. gojo elbowed his friend, nodding in your direction. geto’s eyes nearly popped.
“what the hell?” geto leans forward, the two men closely watch you enter the lecture hall, walking a few rows down before slipping in. geto’s eyes narrow at the camera you carefully place in your lap as you take out your ipad.
it was like the cards were being dealt out for him perfectly.
“wait, I don’t get it,” gojo huffs catching up to his friend as the lecture hall empties.
geto tsks, “what’s not to get? I’m gonna bribe her into taking photos of me next game. I’m fucking tired of being some fucking blur—“
“you’ve gotten some photos man—“
“well i want more. ones where I’m actually scoring,” geto huffs, brushing his bang back in frustration.
once the two men hit the pavement outside, they spot you. gojo is tagging along for the fun, while geto is set on a mission. one he conjured up mid-lecture the second he saw you. it was perfect. genius—
“what?” your face scrunches in mild disgust. the two men baffle at your reaction, especially at the way you’re looking up at them with narrow, and irritated eyes. your expression isn’t hard to decipher, it’s basically screaming, why tf are you talking to me?
geto licks his teeth, exhaling through his nose, “you heard me fine, sweetheart—“
“don’t call me that.”
his jaw clenches, repeating his line without the pet name. “the next two games are the semifinals and then the finals, so I’ll give you access through our manager to join press during the media window two days before the matches—“
“I already have access to that through the school paper,” you give him a look, immediately ticking him off.
“let me fucking finish will you—“
“you’re taking forever and I’m being cornered,” you snap back, rolling your eyes at the pretentious athlete. geto bites his tongue, as gojo gasps.
“you’re not being cornered!” he states, just to exchange a look with geto as they both see that they’ve steered you off the pavement and against a tree. “no—we’re just talking.”
you exhale, glancing back at geto, “whatever, just finish.”
geto licks his lips, continuing, “you’ll also get access to our locker room strategy meeting or whatever, and behind the scenes access — you only do photos, no video or interviews?”
you shake your head, heart beating just a little quicker because now you’re starting to see the perks. bts access is the one thing university teams can deny since they don’t like any outsiders butting into their strategies or taking them out of “the zone.”
that also means you can see….coach toji.
gojo and geto both notice the realization crossing your face, especially when your lips part, much more glossy than before. unbelievable.
“but,” geto snaps you back, your eyes darting up to meet his, “you better take some good fucking shots of me during the game. if I’m not in the fucking paper and insta page, then no deal.”
you gasp, “dude, you’re literally acting like I’m the one in charge of that?? it’s my editor that picks the photos to put in the articles.”
geto tsks, “yet somehow coach is in every single one.” your jaw clenches, stomach heating up. “take more photos of me so it’s inevitable. got it?”
your lip curls in annoyance, eyeing geto, just for gojo to suddenly but in—
“but also take some of me, i look so hot in them and i like reposting them on my insta,” gojo flashes you a smile.
your frown deepens, “there’s other photographers. you guys know that right?”
“yours are the only ones they choose and they look better than whoever took sukuna’s,” gojo snorts, remembering their captains complaints.
nevertheless, geto and gojo wait for you to agree, both men standing with their arms crossed, blocking the spring sun from hitting you.
then a certain captain happens to pass by, noticing his two teammates, and frat brothers.
“the fuck are you guys doing?”
the men whip their heads as sukuna steps up, bag slung over his shoulder wearing a backwards baseball cap. and with a quick explanation from his friends, sukuna tsks glancing at you and adding.
“coach always showers before or after our games.”
and it was that one bit of information that automatically has you saying: “deal.”
—
you don’t rush setting up. you check your flash, bouncing it once off the ceiling to make sure it won’t wash anyone out. your fingers move with muscle memory, standing in these rooms plenty of times for the school paper, along with other journalists from the school paper especially for media days, post-game scrums, pre-season press.
so this isn’t new territory.
the room is packed, though. there’s national outlets mingling with campus press, and clusters of journalists already talking. you hear familiar phrases float past as you move, many talking about the teams unbeaten streak, their goal differentials, their historic season.
familiar names are easily getting tossed around. captain sukuna coming up first, always, and his leadership, and the way he commands the field. gojo’s speed follows after, and his natural talent and eye for goals, then geto’s consistency, his intelligence and composure. someone mentions scouts again, plural this time, and how a few clubs have been hovering around those three all season.
you barely react because you’ve heard all of this before, and it was impressive of course, you enjoy it. however, what does get you, embarrassingly, is his name.
every time coach toji is mentioned—his tactics, his discipline, the way he rebuilt the program and incorporated new strategies —you feel heat creep up your neck. it’s a soft and traitorous blush that you’re grateful no one’s looking closely enough to notice you smiling.
you keep your eyes on your camera, pretending to fiddle with a setting you don’t actually need to adjust, reminding yourself that he’s just part of the team. a very effective, very respected part of it.
then finally, the noise dips and the conversations fade into an expectant quiet as the side door opens.
the players file in first, with sukuna at the front, expression unreadable, gojo already grinning, geto calm and observant as ever. everyone’s cameras lift, and recorders click on. and then he steps in behind them.
coach toji, in a suit.
your face breaks into a hot mess, heart skipping a beat as you eye him through your lens. it fits him too well. dark, sharp, shoulders filling it out like it was tailored perfectly. no team jacket today, no morning stumble. no, he looked clean, with polished shoes, and authority. he guides the team forward eyes sweeping the room calmly.
your flash fires once, professionalism wavering again. how can it not when your knight is walking into the room and reminding you exactly how out of reach he is.
the entire team easily spots you in the front row for the first time. your charm hangs from your camera strap, along with the little sticker on your godox flash. they all know who you are now, so their wasn’t any hiding the way they’d purposely glance at your camera lens, giving you their best shots.
many of the questions are being directed towards the coach, your eyes focus on his reaction, lens zooming close as he rolls his dress shirt over his forearms. your camera flashes and your cheeks warm. you do this every time. acting like it’s your first time seeing the coach in a suit even though he wears one every semifinals press. but you can’t help it!
journalists throw questions without breath, firing rounds until the set time is up.
“photographers only, please.”
the room clears out fast. chairs scrape back, and laptops snap shut. you step forward instinctively, already lifting your camera. the players shift back into place. sukuna straightens, his expression resetting into something stoic. gojo cracks a joke under his breath that earns him a look. geto adjusts his sleeves, calm as ever.
toji moves standing just off to the side at first, arms crossed, smooth dress shirt crinkling over his taut muscles, and unforgiving across his shoulders.
the manager gestures. “let’s get the team all together first.”
cameras flash as the team pose, all in their uniform. you move easily getting their shots, unaware of the emerald eyes watching your every move.
coach toji noticed you the minute he stepped into the room. however, he remained composed, knowing how many eyes were on him. but now, his eyes sweep over your figure.
your grey dress pants hugging that right ass, and those hips. the tight dress shirt hugged your frame, with the top buttons undone allowing some of your cleavage to be revealed along with your necklace stack. business casual, but he’s sure half the team is looking at your tits. your pretty anklet catching the light as you move in your kitten heels.
“coach with sukuna,” the manager says.
toji steps forward.
you track him without thinking, framing the shot as he places a hand lightly at sukuna’s back, guiding him a half-step to the left. your shutter clicks, noticing how easily he steps into your frame, how naturally he fills it. his height just a hair taller than the hot headed captain, at least in your eyes.
“alright, another group photo,” the manager says.
toji turns, motioning the players in with two fingers. his eyes briefly catch yours making your eyes widen. the team clusters around their coach, heads bowed slightly, listening even though there’s nothing to hear. he speaks low anyway. you circle to the side, careful, capturing the curve of his shoulder, the way his jaw tightens when he focuses.
toji’s gaze lifts again, slow and deliberate, landing on you.
why does he keep doing that?!
it’s brief. just a glance that lingers a fraction longer, his eyes flick from your face to the camera in your hands and back again, like he’s remembering the photos he saw on your camera.
you feel heat blooming under your skin, pulse kicking hard enough to throw you off guard. you steady your hands, inhaling subtly, pretending you don’t feel the way the air shifts when he turns slightly…when he ends up closer than before, just at the edge of your frame.
“okay, we’re good,” the manager calls.
the team breaks, the players disperse, but toji stays put for a beat longer, adjusting his sleeve, posture relaxed again, unreadable.
you lower your camera only when it’s over, breath leaving you in a quiet rush you didn’t realize you were holding. you don’t see him glance at you when you step back to check your photos. you also don’t notice the small, satisfied curve of his mouth.
not until you’re feeling a gentle, firm, hand on your waist, and a low voice right against your ear, “say hi next time. you’re not a stranger anymore.”
your body immediately catches on fire, eyes snapping to the man like a magnet, heart slamming against your ribs as you watch him pull back, emerald eyes meeting yours.
“right, sweetheart?”
your face stings, as you nod quickly, heat pooling deep in your stomach, feeling his thumb caress your hip over your shirt. your lips part, mind dizzy as you glance as his strong forearms, he’s towering over you, slightly leaning down to speak to you in quiet whispers.
“I’ll see c’ya tomorrow, yeah,” he gives your waist a squeeze as he greets you with a kiss to your cheek like some gentleman. then he walks away. and if you weren’t a mess before, the casual glance he shoots over his shoulder has a third arrow piercing your heart.
you couldn’t contain it anymore. you were consumed by this man. every waking thought was spent daydreaming about him— his voice, his eyes, his hands, his demeanor. it was intoxicating.
all for you to show up in the lockerroom, the next day, hours before the match. the team is either dressed in their uniforms, or still shirtless, huddling around the white board as they prep for the game.
geto was the second to notice you, after gojo. both their eyes twinkling as they walk up to you. “they gave you the pass,” geto nods to the press badge around your neck.
you nod, glancing around the lockerroom. it felt tense, the aura suspenseful as the time ticks closer to when they walk onto the pitch.
“get your vip shots, but you better get my photo,” geto hushes in your ear.
“and mine!” gojo blurts, just as a certain coach is stepping out of the steam.
and you feel it. the towel wrapped low around his waist, skin still slick with water that traces unhurried paths down his sculpted torso. his hair is darker when it’s wet, heavier, droplets slide from it and disappear along the hard lines of his shoulders.
your eyes catch his muscles moving when he walks, hard mass, that shifts beneath skin without effort. you swallow thickly, body heating up, stomach fluttering as you catch the trail of dark coarse hair leading down from his navel, and disappearing beneath the towel. your eyes follow it to the bulge you know is under there. your cheeks sting at the thought of it.
you were utterly shameless. as if the two men standing beside aren’t still talking to you. but they immediately recognize the shift in your attitude and notice the steam leaving your face. gojo stifles a laugh, as geto sighs. you’re hopeless.
your eyes follow the scars you’ve never seen before. the old pale marks catch the light, etched across his side, his pecs, and back, proof of some life before this one. then he turns just enough and your heart stutters, and your panties soak.
ink blooms along his ribs where the towel dips. the tattoos are sharp and intimate, black against his skin that’s still flushed from the heat. you’ve photographed him dozens of times, from every angle, but you’ve never seen a peak of a tattoo.
“how wet are you right now?”
the comment snaps you back, glaring straight at the crystal ocean eyes narrowed in amusement.
“don’t talk to me like that,” you huff, “I’m working.” your attitude really is night and day when it comes to anyone else and toji.
gojo blushes, “I love mean girls.”
you roll your eyes.
“what’re you two doing? get the fuck over here,” sukuna snaps.
the team huddles as the fifteen minute timer starts. and that’s what you should be photographing, but instead you glance back. toji is now pulling up his pants, wet hair still dripping down the expanse of his back. his eyes catch yours for a second, gaze flicking to your camera, taunting…
his hand subtly cups his crotch, squeezing his girth just to present you with a size, one that has your lips parting with a shaky exhale, heart pounding as you glance between his emerald eyes and the way his forearms flex when he fixes the waistband of his boxers, pulling the material down just a bit that you catch more of the thick patch of hair at his base seeing a peak of it, before he’s fixing himself again.
and once he zips his pants up, glancing at the team as they huddle for some words from the captain before coach steps in, toji walks to you. just a few feet away, your eyes widen in surprise, heart stuttering as you watch him lean down to greet you with a kiss to your cheek, again!
he’s acting like you’re familiar even though this is just your third interaction with him…but maybe you are…
“thought I told you to say hi next time,” he says against your ear, pulling away.
your face heats up, “you were….changing.”
“so?”
you gulp, eyes flicking between his, heart pounding. he’s so close. your breath catches when his scent hits your nose, sandalwood, oak and something deeper under it. his stubble is darker than yesterday, rougher along his jaw, and you realize you’ve been staring for too long when the heat creeps up your neck.
he doesn’t move away though, he stands beside you, attention forward on sukuna as he speaks. focused, and so aware of you’re attention he has to hold back a smirk. and maybe he doesn’t mind messing with you, so his hand remains at your lower back, light, almost absent, but there.
your stomach flips, attention gone. you try to listen, you do. sukuna is talking about positioning, about discipline, about not getting sloppy or something and the room is locking in around you, everyone leaning in. these would be great photos—but all you can think about is how close he is.
how his hand hasn’t moved, every small shift makes your pulse jump. you keep your eyes forward. you don’t trust yourself to look at him again.
and that gives toji the opportunity to take you in. his pupils dilate just a fraction as his gaze travels down your body. his eyes zero in on the multiple open buttons of your tight dress shirt. you’re not even hiding yourself, and the sliver of skin that peaks between your pants and shirt doesn’t help.
his hand remains over your clothes, heat settling in his stomach when you take a deeper breath and your tits push up, and his eyes shamelessly look down your shirt from his towering height. fuck, he wants a look at that pretty ass too—
“coach! you’re up!” sukuna’s voice cuts through everything, snapping toji back. your gaze whips with it, catching him off guard as you wait for his next move like anything he touches is gold.
he controls himself, giving your waist that same squeeze before his hand leaves you just like that.
you push down the feeling that hits immediately, sharp and cold. but now you can finally breathe properly when he steps away. he moves past the players without rushing — a few of the boys let their eyes roam over you— toji adjusts his sleeve ignoring the feeling bubbling up when he notices them. and then he’s at the front.
he doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t need to now, but he usually gets to that point around the halfway mark. but this was the first time you’re seeing him speak in private…and when he speaks, they all listen—every single one of them.
gojo notices, gossip second nature to him. but the quick glance your way already has a grin tugging at his mouth before he nudges geto. geto follows his gaze, then sukuna does too, just briefly—and it’s obvious. painfully obvious. the way your expression softens, the way your attention doesn’t wavers. it’s written all over you.
“she’s actually really hot,” gojo comments.
though you wish you could stand there forever, the time finally comes for the team to head to the pitch, and that’s when the chaos begins.
not just on the field…but off it.
the press box is packed, bodies press against you shoulder to shoulder. the field below is relentless. everything fast, and aggressive, and loud enough that the noise bleeds through everything. you always forget how overstimulating and exhilarating semifinal matches are. but you remember the deal you made with the three stars.
your camera moves with them, tracking their plays, snapping multiple shots of them without hesitation, and then catching the moment when things go wrong...
sukuna gets taken down hard during a penalty shot—and there’s no whistle. no call.
you’re already shooting when the other team pushes, then scores, and the stadium erupts, but sukuna is on his feet, shouting. the goal should be discounted. the captain was known to be a hot head, but even you could see that the tackle he received was completely brushed off by the ref and he was right.
everyone watches as the team moves forward in defense of sukuna, but also holding him back. the other side meets them just as hard. the crowd shouts as they watch the players shove, yell, and slam into each other—and through it all you keep shooting. you catch toji too, voice cutting through the chaos as he orders his players to pull sukuna back.
the press talk amongst themselves as halftime quickly breaks up the argument. your feet quickly carry you out of the press box, towards the locker room.
“no locker room access.”
your jaw tightens immediately irritation flaring hot and sharp.
“I have a different badge,” you show the security guard your press ID. the one geto gave you.
“no press allowed, do i need to repeat myself?” the man snaps.
your irritation ticks at your side. fine. whatever. the second you step back, your mind is already running, already circling back to geto. you scoff under your breath, shaking your head as you pace along the corridor, camera swinging lightly at your side.
seriously? all that talk, all that stupid ass convincing, and for what? you were supposed to be there. that was the whole point! you roll your eyes, heat building the longer you think about it, every step feeding into this petty irritation instead of cooling it. were you overreacting —yes, but whatever—if he’s not holding up his end, then why should you?
by the time you make it back up, you’re done. done thinking about it, done entertaining it, done with their stupid deal.
the second half starts and you fall back into rhythm. camera up, focus sharp, and attention on only one thing now, the ball….
gojo and geto drift near the press box occasionally, clearly expecting something, acknowledgment, a photo, but you don’t even bat an eye. not a look, not a flicker, hell, they might as well not exist.
it’s almost satisfying. almost.
the final whistle blows and the stadium erupts, the first leg ended in a draw, preparing for next game to see who’ll continue. cameras around you go wild, capturing every second of it. the quiet annoyance of both teams, the noise in the crowd. but you don’t. you lower yours, expression flat, already turning away. it’s petty. a little unfair, but still, you walk.
“you’re not coming to the locker room?” gojo’s voice follows you, footsteps quick behind yours as you head in the opposite direction.
“why would i?” you snap, sharp, not even slowing. “am i even allowed,” there’s an obvious clip in your tone that has gojo confused.
“what’re you talking about?”
“deal’s off.”
huh?!????
gojo barely has time to react, before you’re walking away.
baffled and utterly confused, gojo makes his way back to the locker rooms. the energy is stiff, sukuna is grumbling under his breath about how embarrassing it was to end their first leg in a draw, geto is lounged beside his bag scrolling on his phone, and toji is in the corner talking to the managers. ugh, does no one care that their personal photographer isn’t taking photos of them???
they do care.
especially when the next paper comes out and the article is filled with photos taken by other people, not you!
“WHY THE FUCK DO I LOOK LIKE THAT!??” sukuna shouts, entire body fumming as they all sit outside during practice. sukuna is not the only one pissed, geto is practically seething because there isn’t even a single photo of him or gojo.
“what is this girl’s problem?! i thought you idiots made a deal with her?!” sukuna snaps, already in a foul mood, but now it’s worse.
geto licks his teeth, jaw ticking, “we did.”
“I told you guys she was pissed that she didn’t come in during halftime,” gojo throws, as if anyone was listening to him after their shitty match.
“so she throws a tantrum because she didn’t see coach’s dick during halftime?” sukuna clips.
“she looked super hot when she was all pissed though,” gojo throws, “she’d definitely go for me after she realizes how old coach is.”
“what’s wrong with you?” geto rolls his eyes, confused how gojo can talk about your looks when you screwed them over. even if he maybe also finds you attractive, it doesn’t negate your shitty attitude.
gojo throws his hands up in defensive, “I’m just calling dibs now.”
toji, just a few feet away, strides over after noticing the group no longer doing drills. “what’s the hold up!” he grunts, also in a shit mood because of the embarrassing match and then overheating what gojo had said.
“your stalker fucked us over,” geto snaps, eyes burning into the school paper. “she didn’t even get a pic of you.”
gojo’s eyes light up, “oh shit, yeah—she’s definitely over you!”
the paper then hits toji’s chest, his brows furrowing as he holds it up. his eyes glance over the sports section, and just as geto had stated, there wasn’t a single photo of him, unless you’re counting the wide shot of the field and you see him standing in the corner, but it definitely was a starch contrast from the streak you’d created.
“so?” toji tosses the paper like it’s nothing, “you guys playing for the cameras or because you want to win?!”
the men baffled, gasp and scoff. “we want to win!”
“then get off your fucking asses! I don’t have time to be doing this shit with you all!” he snaps aggressively, uncharacteristically pissed off, whether it’s because of the teams misdirected frustrations, or something else. either way, the school paper is long forgotten beside their bags and the team is splitting into practice teams.
it doesn’t matter…
it doesn’t matter that you made a deal with suguru geto and satoru gojo. and the captain pushed you to seal that deal with the information about coach — and they broke it. none of it matters! you still should’ve taken those photos, especially when you’re receiving an earful from your editor, and then sulking through the week of classes.
“what’s your problem,” your friend, shoko, cuts in, snapping you back to the campus day festival. you were once again sulking on the picnic bench, ice cream melting in the cup as you stare off.
“you’re gonna get annoyed…” you mutter, brows pinched in agony.
for most passing by, they immediately steered clear of you, not only did you carry a lethal rbf, your words of “agony” really translates to, you’ll rip someone’s head off and if looks could kill, everyone would be dead. it was quite funny, considering how you’re pretty sweet when you want to be, shoko quietly thinks. still, most would rather avoid you, thanking the heavens that you stay behind the camera so you don’t interact directly with people.
“don’t start,” shoko groans, piecing together the not so subtle mystery.
you frown, “i didn’t even say anything!” you whine even more, glaring at your ice cream. your pretty camera sits on the table beside you, collecting dust when you should be photographing this event. “I just screwed myself over,” your tongue laps at the dripping ice cream.
“agreed.”
your glare snaps to your friend, to which she brushes off with a shrug.
“you should’ve taken those photos,” she starts.
“I know…”
“then you would’ve made your editor happy,”
“I know…”
“and then you wouldn’t have to do this event.”
“I know.”
“and you’d have more weird pictures of coach toji.”
your heart drops. eyes snapping to shoko. “what?!”
shoko goes mute. suddenly realizing what she said. “nothing.”
“pictures?” you repeat, “I have weird pictures of the coach?? I don’t—why would you even say that??“ you’re not subtle at all. and shoko feels guilty at your horrible lying skills, but still…she confesses…
“you uploaded photos to your drive, when we’d study together,” she tries to hold in her laugh as heat crawls up your neck, “like more than once.”
you glance away, eyes flicking over your camera, “that’s it?”
shoko raises a brow. “yeah…what do you mean?”
you look back, “like that’s how you know, it’s not like you heard from someone else or anything?”
shoko shakes her head, “no, who else would know?”
your cheeks are burning at this point, and it was written all over your face now. the realization hit shoko in seconds. “no…” you’re silent. “does the coach know about your photos?”
you don’t want to make eye contact.
“how?!!”
even though it happened days ago, why is it now starting to feel even more embarrassing. maybe because of your cool headed friends reaction— “it was an accident.”
“how did he find out though?” shoko pushes.
you cringe, “well…” you swallow, “when I first spoke to him, remember…” shoko nods, “I let him use my camera because he was interested.” you pause, reliving the humiliation all over again. “then he kept swiping to see the pics, and just found them…” your hands slap your face, “that’s not bad!”
shoko is getting second hand embarrassment, “dude.”
“STOP IM GONNA KILL MYSELF!!” you cry out, humiliation seeping from your pores.
shoko is trying not to laugh, but it’s quite hard not too, especially when you’re groaning like that. “what was his reaction?”
“I obviously said it was an accident, and he was like whatever and seemed fine,” you explain quickly, trying to cool the situation. “It’s not bad!”
“okay okay!!” shoko laughs, trying to calm your reaction. however, shoko knows about your huge crush, what she didn’t know is about a deal her two friends made with you. heck, she didn’t even know that you interacted with them. not until those two men are standing directly behind you, sweaty and pissed. “what the hell—“
“I guess you don’t know how to keep your word,” geto spits, bag dropping aggressively on the bench beside you.
you jump, then, your eyes flick over your shoulder, immediately rolling them when you see them. you turn back to shoko.
geto snaps. “there wasn’t a single photo of us!”
“not my problem,” you scoff, attitude returning in seconds, shoko completely used to it. but she’s shocked that you know gojo and geto. “not like you guys even played well.”
gojo’s vein bulges, “we played fucking good, we didn’t lose!”
“you didn’t win,” you shrug, cold.
that’s when gojo and geto both glance up at shoko. shock crossing their expressions. “you know her?!” they both point down at you.
shoko raises a brow, “she’s my friend.”
“she’s a bitch—“ geto spits, just to receive the worst glare of his life from you, but he just rolls his eyes. “how the fuck do you know each other?”
“I just told you she’s my friend. you’re the ones that screwed her over.” shoko takes your side.
gojo gasps, “we didn’t screw her over! she screwed us over! you saw the paper this week—not a single highlight!”
you glance at shoko, ignoring the men behind you, “how do you know them?”
“we went to high school together,” shoko throws with a bored wave.
frustrated, geto straddles the bench facing you, his hand falls on top of your camera, immediately making you snap your attention to him.
“hey—“
“listen. our deal was that you get access and then we get photos, you didn’t finish your job,” he keeps a grip on your camera. shoko frowns.
“you guys didn’t give me access—i got like ten minutes before the match, then I couldn’t even go in during halftime where everyone was pissed, so what’s the point?” you snap, getting in his face.
“the point is that has nothing to do with me!” geto shouts, your eyes pierce his in two, but neither of you back down.
“it literally does though!”
“guys,” shoko and gojo attempt at intervening, but neither of you will back down. especially when geto won’t let go of your camera.
“let go,” you seethe, hand on the camera as geto flexes, grip strengthening around it.
your heart pounds against your chest, the hot spring sun beats over the four of you, sweat building on your neck while geto scoffs. “you better take those photos of us this week—“
“or what?” you glare, “are you seriously threatening me?” you were dripping with ego and confidence, except for the fact that your eyes kept darting to your camera, your poor, expensive, beautiful camera—
“is this your first time being threatened—“
“the fuck.”
the deep, intimidating voice breaks the argument in seconds. geto’s eyes widen as he feels the gravity taken away from him and being lifted off the seat. the collar of his jersey tightens around none other than toji’s brutal grip.
your eyes break into hearts, grasping your camera before it clatters back on the table, glancing up to see geto gripping his coach’s forearm.
“since when do you fucking shout at girls. you?!” toji barks, baffled. sukuna sure, gojo maybe, but geto?!
“I wasn’t fucking shouting, we were talking,” geto tsks, neck red from embarrassment.
toji shoves him back. geto slams on the bench. you hadn’t realized it but they all looked like they just finished practice, geto and gojo both still in practice uniforms and duffle bags, and coach toji wearing his usual black cargos, and that compression shirt that left nothing to the imagination.
geto scowls, rubbing his back in pain.
“you were shouting, that’s why i came over—“
“she was shouting at me!”
“so what!?”
the table is quiet. a few passerby’s glance over before quickly walking away. it isn’t a shock to know how unbelievably hot your face is right now. especially when coach toji continues his stern lecture to geto.
“you’re defending some girl that can’t keep her word, mind you,” geto mutters, flashing you a glare—his breath catches. you’re not even looking at him!! shoko stifles another laugh along with gojo, because you really were, truly, unbelievable.
how can you look at someone like that?!? like he’s some idol?! him! a musty ass college coach?!
but none of it mattered, not when toji’s attention shifts to you!!! a warm heat floods between your legs, as your lips part. then suddenly, you glance away…
“I actually did shout too…” you confess, taking accountability. “and kinda screwed them over.”
gojo, geto, and shoko, stare at you in shock.
toji sighs, like some grown ass man (which he is), his hand settles on his hip as the other scratches his hair like he’s surrounded by immature children and figuring out what the fuck to do with you all. so he decides to confess too…
“i told security not to allow any outsiders.”
your heart drops.
“including you.”
oh shit.
the three audience members immediately glance at you, and what none of them, not a single one, expected, is to suddenly see the your eyes tear up.
toji felt a sharp twist in his gut, eyes widening for a moment, before sighing. “it wasn’t personal.”
your throat feels dry, unable to look away until now. a tear hits your camera. “how is that not personal,” you whisper, bottom lip trembling.
shoko’s brows pinch in hurt, at least out of everyone, she knows how much and how long you’ve liked this man. and then sulking and now— she knows you’re absolutely shattered.
“I needed the team to focus, and you’re press,” he states like some cold fact, and that hurt even more.
your grip tightens on the camera. “but…” your not a stranger anymore…. but you can’t get the words out…your heart pounds loudly in your ears, the heat surrounding you felt suffocating, and your head was growing dizzier by the second. and the only thing spinning in your mind was how fucking embarrassing this is.
“don’t be upset.”
you manage a small nod, though another tear falls on the camera, and your body freezes. “how can i not be upset?” your small voice catches toji off guard.
you’re standing up, eyes hot with tears, walking past the esteemed coach.
“wait,” he catches your wrist, “if you have something to say don’t just run away.”
you’re fuming, your pretty chest rises and falls, the disappointment turning into built up anger, “I don’t have anything to say right now, and it’s stupid—“ your hand twists in his grip. “let go.”
he does.
you’re practically heaving, tempted to turn away, especially when the dryness in your throat gets worse. the stinging behind your eyes burns like hell as you try to rip your gaze away from the towering man. you really are stupid…
toji wets his lip, head tilting as if disinterested, but the cooling in his chest says otherwise. why does he have a weak spot for women?
“we can talk.”
his words hang in the air. a silent, open invitation for her. it’s a clear sign of his guilt for making this cute college girl cry. he was too blunt, forgetting she isn’t one of his boys.
your hand comes up to the bridge of your nose, quietly recentering yourself as this older coach watches. your shoulders rise with a deep exhale, then inhale.
pull yourself together…
you nod. cute.
you swallow the embarrassing lump in your throat, clearing your throat. “can we talk while walking…I have to work,” your usual clipped tone used for everyone except him, comes out, but he can hear the slight shakiness.
“sure.”
gojo, geto, and shoko are left in utter shock. it’s not until you and toji completely disappear into the crowd, do they slowly exchange looks.
“what…”
“the fuck,” geto finishes shoko’s sentence.
gojo stares baffled, “did we just set them up?!”
geto’s brow jumps up, “why is he always saving her like some knight?? and he was the one that screwed us all over!!”
gojo shakes his head in agreement, “nah for real, what the hell, blaming us but it’s all him.”
geto slouches back in the picnic table, rolling his eyes. “still,” he tsks, “she didn’t have to be so bitchy and not take our pictures. isn’t it her fucking job—“
“hey!”
“ow!” geto feels a slap upside the head from brunette, her eyes harsh. “what the hell!”
“don’t call girls bitches what’s wrong with you?!” shoko huffs, baffled by geto’s attitude.
gojo snickers beside the man, “he’s been like this since he met her.”
“I haven’t,” he grits, rolling his eyes at the thought of you. “she’s just a—she just gets on my nerves.”
“really because she reminds me of you,” shoko cuts him off. geto’s eyes widen, as gojo breaks into a loud laugh.
“WHAT?!”
“oh god BAHAHA she does!” gojo’s obnoxious laugh sounds like knives stabbing his ears.
shoko hums, “she has that rbf look, intimidating, very blunt, but also so cute with her friends.”
“cute?” geto frowns.
gojo smiles, “it comes out when you’re hanging out with ussss.” gojo and shoko dramatically strike a cute pose. geto tsks.
the campus was packed with students and faculty roaming to booths and small events. it was the university’s 102nd anniversary, and as memorable as it is for the students to enjoy the activities during this nice spring day, you couldn’t bring yourself to give a shit.
not only did your editor scream at you all week, still pissed about the shit photos you took during the match, he also threatened removal if you didn’t take good photos during this event. and now, after sulking with shoko, then procrastinating some more, you decided you’d be able to take such fanatic pictures while your idol and crush trails beside you….sure.
toji lets out another sigh, hands in his pockets as he stands to your left watching you snap some shots of laughing students beside a booth.
“it’s not a big deal,” you mutter, behind the camera. toji notices the twitch in your fingers. “I overreacted, so it’s whatever.”
toji wets his lip, “sukuna and a couple others jus’ get jumpy with cameras.”
you hum, looking at the photos you just took. “I understand.”
“I didn’t know about this deal you did with geto,” toji admits, hand instinctively coming to your waist and guiding you away from some unaware boys shouting and laughing. your cheeks flush, stepping away from his hand. toji notices. “we didn’t have a good game anyways.”
“I know, so it whatever. not a big deal,” you sigh, heat crawling up your neck. this is so embarrassing, so embarrassing! ugh you really don’t know how to keep a cool head at all when it comes to this coach. you overreacted during the match, then blamed geto for screwing you over, then almost cried because the coach locked you out on purpose, and now—
“I feel bad.”
your heart stops.
toji glances at your manicured nails holding your camera, your cute necklaces dangling on your exposed chest, cleavage glistening from the heat. but then his eyes flick up, and you’re staring at him like he’s holding the entire world.
“I didn’t mean to make you upset,” his voice is softer, gentler, nothing like how you’ve heard him for months, shouting, harsh. your stomach heats up, face stinging.
his hand, unexpectedly, comes up, feeling your hair between his fingers. “you work hard, and all your pictures come out so nice…” the compliment hits your heart. “but I couldn’t risk the boys getting distracted.”
your face suddenly twists, lips pursing and jutting out just a bit, your brows pinch. your dewy makeup makes you look like a fucking doll, he thinks. “I was jus’ gonna take photos in the corner, not interview them,” you reply harshly.
“you saw how they are when they talk to you,” he cuts in. your brow quirks, noticing his sharp inhale. “sweetheart, you’re hot.”
your face bursts into flames, pupils turning to literal swirls, and brain getting fried in seconds.
what?!
your reaction was priceless. toji controls his smirk, thumb brushing your adorable cheek, glancing at your glossy lips then your eyes. “I know you’re a professional, but most of those boys aren’t, y’ understand?”
you nod, cheeks sizzling, you’re surprised his thumb isn’t burning.
“so you see why I couldn’t allow you in the locker room then, and i won’t next time,” he watches you nod again. god, you’re fucking precious.
then, your tongue wets your bottom lip before speaking… “are they the only ones that would’ve been distracted?”
shit. can a grown man really pop a boner that fast?
toji’s chest heats up, glancing between your pretty eyes filled with hope. this isn’t the first time a younger girl has crushed on him, and it also isn’t the first time he’s nice to one. but what really got him, is the way you’re maintaining eye contact, almost afraid to look away, and you’re holding your ground against him.
“no,” he admits, “they’re not the only ones.”
oh. your lips curve into a smile toji hasn’t seen before, and his hand flexes in response. you look like you’re going to eat him alive right there, and he’d let you, no questions asked—
“that’s good to hear,” you pull away. you touch your heated cheek with the back of your hand, wetting your lip as you glance over the coach’s flushed face. “your cheeks are red.”
what?! his eyes bulge, catching you off guard as you break into a loud laugh.
“tch,” he looks away, his own hand rubbing down his face. it really is burning out here. but even so, his emerald eyes look through his fingers at this pretty college girl laughing at him and he doesn’t know why his chest warms at the sight.
“I can buy you ice cream. I feel bad now that you had to explain yourself when I was just being the unprofessional one,” you start, already leading him to the nearest ice cream booth.
your camera hangs over your shoulder as you point to your favorite flavor than glance up at him, he points at the cookies n cream. “oh! I love cookies n cream,” you say, reaching for your phone to pay.
ding.
your eyes widen as toji pays instead.
“wha—it was supposed to be my treat, man,” you huff, accepting the cone he gives you, hand on your lower back as he guides you away from the booth. neither of you batting an eye to the multiple people gawking at the renowned coach of their soccer team, walking around with the hot, rude, student photographer.
“as if I’d let you pay,” he snorts.
your brows pinch as you take a lick of your ice cream, the cool sensation leveling your body temperature. your eyes narrow at him as he enjoys his ice cream, grateful to have something that cools the heat building up under his skin. “so not fair,” you mutter.
“how come?”
the two of you walk across the quad, sun still beating down.
“I wanted to use it as an apology,” you say, “I said that.”
“you don’t need to apologize,” he shrugs, casual, unbothered. you huff again. this time toji smiles, scar twitching up. “you can pay next time.”
your heart skips a beat, stomach doing a stupid flip.
“….next time.”
toji catches the smile behind your cone, his eyes trailing over the ice cream coating your tongue, your pretty hand wrapped around the waffle as your bracelets clank around your wrists.
“there’s other things you need to apologize for,” he coolly says, finding a bench and dropping his weight, eyeing you as you sit close beside him. unashamed.
your brow quirks, eyes narrowing, full body facing him, “what other things?”
toji shrugs, “we can talk about it next time.”
“but I can’t just be left in suspense, that’ll give me anxiety?!”
toji snorts, loud. his big tongue is finishing the ice cream so quick he’s already eating the cone. “don’t be anxious,” he says with his mouth full.
you tsk, rolling your eyes, and you don’t notice the twinkle in the older coach’s eyes. he can definitely see geto’s point about your attitude, but if he leans over—
your eyes go wide. stomach flipping.
he takes a bold bite of your ice cream, emerald eyes shut, and thick lashes kissing his flushed cheeks. your heart feels like it’ll break from your ribs, then, he opens his eyes. he doesn’t pull away yet, instead his tongue cleans his lips, humming in low delight. the heat around you wasn’t helping your own body temperature as it skyrockets.
“taste’s sweeter than mine,” his voice his huskier than before, catching you by surprise, and the heat pools between your legs.
“i—“ you can’t even form words! your eyes won’t tear away from his lips, and your chest is moving erratically because he’s so close.
“do you want a taste of mine. I took a bite without asking yo—“
his words cut the minute your lips press against his.
shock prevents him from reacting, eyes going wide. you gave in so quick, sure he was teasing, but still. he could feel the certainty in your kiss, along with the warmth, and anxiety. after a long ten seconds you pull away—
you pant against his lips, chest rising and falling, brain scrambled. “i jus’…” your heart is beating loudly in your ears. mind trying to keep up with what your body just did. you kissed him. you kissed the coach. the one you’ve been idolizing and photographing for months—
“we can do it again.” his free hand tilts your chin up, lips hovering over yours again. his breath is warm. “kiss me.”
you do.
this time you’re a little bolder. your lips connect with his, soft again, sucking his bottom lip, skillfully. slowly. he brushes your jaw with his thumb, humming in delight just like he did with the ice cream. but the sound goes straight to your core. completely unbothered by the rowdiness of the uni day activities around you. your free hand rests on his thigh, leaning more into the kiss.
“open,” you murmur against his lips. you can feel the the shit-eating smirk that breaks his face, groaning just low enough to make the heat furiously spread under your skin.
then, his lips part.
his tongue immediately connects with yours. caressing the wet muscle. he tastes the ice cream, delving a little more. it was just so easy taking control, and your little whines are too sweet for him to stop. his jaw opens wider, taking the lead as you follow. his hand cups the side of your face, unexpectedly possessive, ignoring the alarms sounding off in his head.
you had a crush, you’re fucking adorable, and you kissed him. plus, you make these cute sounds when he shoves his tongue against yours, thumb pressing into your cheek. how could he resist?
your grip against his thigh tightens, his back is pressed fully against the bench, while you were practically leaning over him, trying to swallow him whole.
“breathe,” he mutters, lips hovering close, waiting for you to inhale. his scar quirks up, you’re so cute. his thumb brushes your cheekbone again, eyes glancing between your fluttering lashes. “if we keep kissing, I’ll have a problem.”
your face burns, eyes darting down to the tent pressing up near your hand. and unlike toji, you let your second ice cream of the day melt and fall to the ground. you were a mess. you carefully lean back in your seat, the sudden space between you allowing you to take another deep breath. being near coach toji is intoxicating. it’s not that you didn’t feel like yourself, but you definitely throw all common sense out the door when he’s in front of you.
“are you staying to see the booths and stuff?” you clear your throat, trying to ease your erratic heartbeat.
toji finds it cute. his hand once cupping your face, slides down to brush the hair off your shoulder, fingers brushing the multiple earrings that dangle from your piercings. you’re much more stylish than he is…your accessories, the cute tank top that hugs your breasts, and embroidered low rise flared jeans.
“nah, gotta drive back home so i can take my son to practice.”
toji eases, not a single thing can bother him. it was a routine, the subtle throw away line about having a son that scared off many young women, or had them wanting a one night stand with the older dilf. so his eyes flick over you, the second he finishes his sentence.
your freeze.
your blood runs cold, eyes flicking down to his ring finger.
even if you’re looking, you know he isn’t married. you know. you’ve been photographing him for months, and not a single time have you ever seen him daunt a ring on his finger.
“there’s no one waiting for him at home?” you question, wetting your lip.
toji’s fingers slide from your earrings to the dried ice cream on your chin. “nah, if I’m late he’ll go to his friends house.”
you nod, anxiety slowly dissipating. “how old is he?”
“ten.”
your eyes light up, “my nephew is just a year older, that’s when they get really fun to hang out with,” your voice is so light and sweet, toji has to shove down the weird somersault his stomach does.
“really?” toji is not convinced. “all my son does is give me attitude and bully everything i do.”
you laugh, waving your hand, “yeah they get super opinionated, but it’s funny—trust trust he’s just doing it because you’re an easy target.”
“I’m an easy target.”
you nod, waving a hand again, “your his dad, my brothers and i were the same to our parents.”
brothers? toji doesn’t comment how that peaks his interest, but he naturally asks, “how many siblings do you have?”
“three older brothers,” you nod.
damn….toji hums, that explains your attitude and how you can handle geto’s bitchy moods. what also quietly settles in his mind is how your oldest brother would probably be around his age, considering your nephew is a year older than megumi. is that why you’re easily holding a conversation this long…maybe the age gap isn’t that big then…
“they were so freakin bossy, definitely why i pushed to dorm away from them,” you huff, toji zoning back into your rambling. it was cute watching you talk mindlessly, hands waving making your bracelets clank against each other. the sweat glistened across your skin, making you look eternal, which is amusing since you’re just talking.
but still, toji is the one to lean up this time. his hand settling on your waist as a anchor and he presses a firm kiss to your warm cheek.
your glossy lips part in shock, heart stuttering again. unbothered, toji casually stands up, towering over you as his hand gently settles atop your head. “i have’ta get going, but I’ll see you next week for the match. I’ll also let em know you can come in before and after the game, but not during halftime. okay?”
you nod.
“I’ll see ya’ sweetheart.”
and with a wink, he solidifies the fourth arrow straight through your heart.
—
it was very likely that your entire week looked like sunshine and rainbows, all because you had a full on make out session with your idol on a park bench. you couldn’t bring yourself to care much about anything else—well except for your job. you had to scramble to get photos after toji left, afraid of staying on your editor’s bad side.
luckily you pulled through, and convinced him to keep you on for the semi final match this coming weekend.
which leads you to your current blissful state. watching toji speak to the team in the locker rooms. unlike last time, you grabbed different shots, smiling every time toji glanced at the camera, but frowning any time any of the other boys looked.
“surprise surprise, couldn’t stay away too long,” gojo coo’s after the team breaks to finish changing.
“don’t bother me or I won’t take photos of you,” you throw, eyes flicking up at the tall man.
gojo pouts, “but I’m just talking to you,” his words drag.
geto is scowling a few feet away, jaw tightening and relaxing, until he finally comes up to you. your attitude shifts, eyes narrowing up. geto holds eye contact, chest rising with a subtle inhale. but once he exhales, his shoulders ease, and his eyes close, the fakest smile you’ve ever seen graces his naturally attractive features.
“I’m looking forward to seeing your photos after the game.”
your lips purse, brow quirking. “yeah…”
geto leaves. shortly after, the team gets called out. gojo utters the same line geto had just said, but much more cheerfully, all while toji walks up to you. brow furrowing at the two athletes as they walk towards the exit.
“they still bothering you?”
your eyes light up the moment you see him. “s’ fine,” your pretty lips pull into an easy smile, unexpectedly warming the coach’s heart. is it that easy to smile because of him?
“I’ll tell them to fuck off again,” his voice is naturally deep, hand subconsciously roaming up to the strap of your camera.
you smile, “okay.”
god, you’re really cute. his hand cups your cheek, leaning down and easily locking lips with you.
you’re immediately caught off guard, but his hand is so firm on your cheek, you just melt. your lashes flutter shut, leaning in more. he’s so big and tall. your cheeks sting, humming against his lips, trying to fight off the butterflies in your stomach. but it’s worse when he pulls away, and your heart leaps into your throat as he brushes his rough thumb against your lip, dragging the spit across the plumpness.
“I’ll c’ya after.” he winks.
you barely feel your feet when you step back out onto the field. your camera in hand, strap tight around your neck, everything exactly where it should be, and still, your entire body is giddy.
toji….toji toji toji—
you press your lips together, trying to fight it down, but it’s useless. your mouth keeps twitching, threatening to break into a smile and you can’t help it! he kissed you. twice now! like it was nothing—
you snap a shot.
sukuna’s first goal. the team and stadium erupts, and you’re already capturing it, body moving before your thoughts can catch up. you don’t need your editor screaming at you this time, so you shift angles, crouch lower, shoot through. geto lines up for a penalty shot, and you catch that too. the strike, the follow-through, and the way the net snaps back as the ball hits. you don’t miss a second of it.
but…inevitably…your lens drifts…to him. you can’t help it!
toji’s on the sidelines, where he always is. his sleeves are pushed up again, pacing, shouting, running a hand through his hair. you catch the flex of his arm, his biceps bulge and you feel heat pooling between your legs. you catch the drag of his palm across his broad huge chest, the set of his jaw when gojo almost tackles into another player.
you shouldn’t be taking this many photos of him. you know that, but you take them anyway. your chest feels tight with every picture, cheeks still burning, and your smile impossible to get rid of.
halftime comes and goes, and you don’t even try to get into the locker room this time. instead, you linger with the rest of the press, nodding along to conversations, camera hanging loose in your hands. you don’t care. not really. not when your mind keeps replaying it—his hand on your face, the way he looked at you after, the wink.
the second half starts and you’re back in position immediately. getting more action shots of the players—ugh but you keep stealing other moments too…small unnecessary ones. his biceps when he folds his arms. the scratch of his chest. the tilt of his head as he watches the field.
your thoughts don’t stop. why did he kiss you? why did he kiss you again? what is that supposed to mean? is he going to kiss you again??
the spiral doesn’t fully come to an end until the pitch breaks out into celebration. the team is off to the finals!
managers and the rest of the team flood the pitch as the stadium breaks out. you do your best to get the best shots of the team together, and you stay after to capture them talking to journalists, and press. unaware of the coach that slips away.
you follow the team and a couple managers back to the locker room as they continue celebrating. you can’t help the smile about how happy they are, they played well.
“how was the match?” geto corners you quickly.
“good,” you nod casually, fixing your flash. “you guys played really well.”
geto’s brow quirks. that’s nice….his lips purse. “I scored.” he mutters, glancing at the multiple piercings on your ear as you tuck a hair behind it.
“yeah, it was a nice shot,” your eyes flick over your camera before glancing up to meet his eyes, testing, “you wanna see?”
his eyes narrow again, “no.”
he’s quick to ignore your eye roll, as he points over his shoulder. “coach is calling for you.”
you can’t control the way your head whips to geto, then following the direction he’s pointing at. you don’t hesitate, your legs carry you across the locker room, and into the steamed shower room.
your heart hammers against your chest, putting the lens cap back on your camera and carefully sliding it off your shoulder, afraid to step further in until you put it back in your bag.
a single curtain is closed. shower running.
“coach toji?” your voice echos.
there a beat of silence, then…
“that you, sweetheart?”
you flush. controlling the smile that breaks your face as you hum, “yeah.”
the shower is still running, steam collecting in the room. your heart is beating erratically, you barely register anything aside from the fact that coach toji is definitely one hundred percent fully nude just a few feet away. his clothes are laid on his duffle on the bench beside the door.
“sweetheart?”
you jump. “yeah?”
“you gonna come in?”
you blink. again, then once more. then— “WHAT?”
your screech bounces off the tile floors, making you shrink at how loud you are. but it was a normal reaction. he just asked you if you wanted to come in? how else would you react—
“leave your things by my bag,” he doesn’t even react, like what he’s saying is the most casual kind of flirting. the kissing was one thing, but this…
your camera is zipped back in your bag, and in seconds, you’re peeling your panties off standing completely naked in the middle of a shower room. goosebumps break out, necklace and bracelets still on as your nipples harden.
what’re you doing, seriously?
one, this is highly unprofessional (whatever). two, you haven’t even gone a date with this man. and three, w-why would he even ask you to come in?!?! does he like you?! he does—he has too—
your bare feet pad against the steamed tiles until you reach the curtains. your hands won’t stop shaking, face burning hot, and lips parting as you let out a shaky exhale. then, you slowly pull back the curtains—
“come in before someone sees you,” is what you hear just as you’re being dragged into the steaming water, curtain pulled closed behind you.
the steam wraps around your skin instantly, thick and suffocating. your pretty nipples perk up in seconds. and standing right in front of you is the 6’5 two hundred pound man. water cascading down his body in slow, steady streams. you don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing until your chest tightens, and your hands hover close to his forearm.
you’re so close.
your gaze is eye level with his broad solid chest, rising and falling slow and controlled like none of this affects him. like you standing in front of him naked is something he expected. but your too dazed to care. especially when you follow the droplets sliding over his muscles, catching the shallow lines as you continue going lower, and lower. the heat pools more obviously between your legs as you see the thick patch of dark coarse hair…then you see it.
your face burns hotter, stomach flipping hard making you even dizzier.
his cock twitches under your gaze. your knees almost buckle just at the sight. it’s huge. you have to suppress a whine, lashes fluttering as you feel a strong hand cup your chin.
“say hi first,” his voice is unbelievably deep, tearing your gaze away from the monster between his legs. his dark forest green eyes sink into you.
“hi.”
shit. he bites back a groan, eyes trailing down your naked body. nipples already perky and standing all pretty for him. his hand comes up, cupping the side of your face as he leans down, lips colliding with yours.
you whine immediately. your lips move together, tongues colliding as your hands slide up his muscular chest, feeling the deep ridges of his abs as he holds the side of your face, dominating the kiss.
it was overwhelming, the shower box, his body heat, his cock touching your thigh, it was all making you dizzy in the best ways possible. he pulls away, letting you catch your breath, but he stays close, brushing his lips over yours like it’s not enough. because it isn’t.
“did anyone see you come in?” he husks, hand still cradling your face as the other brushes your naked waist, pulling you closer. your skin is so soft under his palm.
“no,” you shake your head adorably, tongue poking out to wet your lip, “I don’t think so.”
the older coach hums, his hands freely roaming your side as he nudges your nose with his. “good,” is all he adds before he resumes the heated make out.
your tongues collide and caress, jaw falling slack as you moan a little louder when he grips your ass. groaning into your lip when your arms lock around his shoulders, wet chest pressing against his. you were such a sweet tasting girl.
his hand nudges your thigh. “jump.”
you gasp when he easily picks you up, back already pressed against the tiled wall. the hot water cascades down his back as he continues kissing you. “were you mad at me?”
you pull away, breath hot as you glance at his features. he’s so handsome, your hand cups his face, pushing his drenched raven hair back. “why would I mad?”
“because I kept ya out during halftime.”
you shake your head, lips curving as you trace his wet eyebrows, chest rising and falling. “no,” you drawl, wetting your glossy lips again. “I was jus’ confused about how much you kiss me.”
his scar tugs up, biting back a smirk threatening to break free. “you kissed me first.”
“that one time.”
“you started it,” he leans close, lips brushing yours, “so you can’t blame me for getting hooked.” his eyes are lidded. “it’s really hard for me to break bad habits.”
this time you kiss me.
you’re so unbelievably hungry for this man’s affection, you can ignore all the blaring red light going off in your head. he’s so hot, he’s so big, and he’s so fucking sexy! your mind has been completely and utterly fried and you don’t care.
“fuck, you’re dripping,” toji husks, his finger collecting your juices from your pussy, groaning at how turned you are. “kissing me makes ya feel that good? your cunt always dripping like a fountain?”
“yeah-aah—“ your lips part as he shoves a finger inside. he groans against you, chuckling at the choked whines leaving your pretty lips, your nails dig crescents along his shoulder.
his lips trail down your neck, tongue flattening against the wet skin and licking until you squirm a cute whimper. his smirk is impossible to hold back. he sucks a dark bruise as another finger pushes in your fluttering hole.
“c-coach—“ you gasp, lips so wet from spit. you try to look down at his fingers pistoning inside you. every muscle on his body flexing, keeping you up like you weigh nothing, while fingering you against the little shower wall. “fu-fuck, I’m gonna—cu-uhm—“
it really is too much for your obsessed brain.
coach toji’s fingers are inside you. he’s kissing you like he’s hasn’t pleasured a woman in years. and his groans are going straight to your pussy—
“I wan’…coach—“ your whine drawls a little longer, thighs shaking, and arms locking around him, head falling to neck.
the older man chuckles close to your ear, voice deep and husky as you fall apart, in his arms. hugging him like he’s your savior. his fingers curl, slowly pumping you through your orgasm. “that was quick. my baby hasn’t cum in awhile?” he says as a matter of a fact, but you just hug him closer, lips pulling away to trail kisses up his neck. your fingers coarse through the back of his head, grasping them as you kiss the corner of his mouth.
“it’s b’cause of you, toji.” you kiss his scar, panting as he pulls his fingers out and lifts you up suddenly, hooking his arm under your knee.
“you want a good fucking princess?”
you nod frantically, cheeks dewy and stinging, as you glance over his face then his chest, then you feel his cock between your slick folds.
“it’s a big stretch,” he mutters against your lips. “you saw.”
you nod, nervous stirring at the way he’s preparing you. but you don’t break away. you doubt you physically can, when your mind is only screaming his name over and over.
“I can take it, coach,” you nod, determined.
“you’re so fucking cute,” he snorts, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he kisses your lips in quiet reassurance. “ever take a cock this big?”
you shake your head, water droplets falling from the tips of your hair. your pretty necklaces still wrapped around your neck, all wet and glistening between your perky breasts.
“it’ll hurt,” he strokes himself underneath you, thumb running over his tip multiple times before lining it with your pretty clit and teasing you. “then you’re gonna cry.” you gulp, nodding along. “then you’re gonna tell me to stop—“
“I won’t!”
he snorts. “it’s okay if you do.”
you shake your head, “I won’t I’ll be okay. okay coach? I can take it, I wan’ you inside me. please.”
the tug to his heart is immediate. how can it not be when this cute hot girl is begging him to fuck her? but he can’t even formulate this emotional string that’s tying him to you. the only physical response coming out is this fucking erection that feels like the most painful shit he’s experienced, twitching after he first spoke to you and then again when you kissed him. surely it’s disgusting….an older man like him getting that quickly turned on…
but maybe it was the way he’s only felt this tug in his chest one other time in his life, and even if it didn’t end the way he wanted, he never regretted pursuing his baby mama.
so he’s all in right now.
“deep breath, sweetheart.”
you inhale sharply, just as toji pushes his engorged tip past the tight rim of your pussy, and you suddenly clench—
“shit!—“
your eyes widen, “I don’t feel anything,” you mutter, glancing down to see his ears burning a deep shade of red.
“your cunt squeezed me too early and shoved me out,” he wets his lips, as he crashes his lips against you. “relax, baby,” he husks.
you whine against his dominating mouth, lower body relaxing as he lines up again and the moment you ease up, he snaps his hips in.
“angh!—“
your jaw slacks, and he continues kissing, groaning at the unbelievable tightness that’s squeezing every corner of his tip.
“Mmm so warm, took me in good,” he groans, rocking his hips and grabbing a handle of your ass. “you’re gonna make me feel good?”
you nod, lips connecting with his, it’s messy, teeth clashing, spit mixing.
toji’s guttural groan echos through the shower, bouncing off the tiles as he rocks his hips, going in inch by inch, until he’s finally shoving his entire length deep inside your cunt with one mean thrust.
“fhuck—“ he chokes, jaw slacking as you clamp around him again. “full?”
you nod, brain scrambled as you glance at your tummy, cheeks stinging at the obvious bulge. “keep going,” you pant, securing yourself better as he grunts, pulling out and snapping his hips back.
it was mind numbing, toji holding you up with his strong arms hooked under your knees, hands gripping each ass cheek as he ruts into you like a beast in heat. the squelch and clapping was deafening as it bounced off the walls, the steam enveloping you closer as your whines flow right into his ear.
“nghhh—gettin’ me worked up,” thrust. “when you squeeze me,” thrust. “with this tight.” thrust. “fucking.” thrust. “cunt!”
his massive cock is stretching you in ways you never could’ve imagined. his blunt tip slams into your cervix with every thrust. your thighs shake, eyes filling with unshed tears as your nails dig into his tough skin.
“m’ s-sorry—haah ah coa—ahh! it feels s’ fuhh—fuh’me ple-easee—ahh!” your pretty lips were so glossy, drool coming down as water droplets fall from your pretty breasts with each vicious slam of his hips.
he was unforgiving. and his laugh like groan didn’t help your pussy from fluttering and tightening around his chubby cock. you can feel every thick pulsing vein and ridge. it was numbing your brain to mush. your fingers curled into his hair, tugging as he gives your ass a mean, violent, spank!
“angh!” your eyes bulge, a wave of heat crashing into you.
toji laughs, gripping your ass as he quickens his pace. “admit it,” he husks, voice condensing, and eyes dark with lust. “this is what ya’ wanted.” you’re falling apart around his cock, and he’s not slowing down, even as the tears finally break, making you look even more irresistible. you’re gasping like you can’t breathe. “you always wanted the coach to fuck you. taking those dirty photos of my bulge—nghh!” thrust. “imagining how big my dick is.” thrust. “how big is it baby, tell me.” thrust!
you were fucked dumb.
your face is flushed, eyes glossed over, as you whine like a full blown slut. and even with your two orgasms in a matter of minutes. your mind was still screaming one thing: toji.
“c’mon baby, I know you’re still with me,” he snorts, ears red, and body flushed with sweat as he feels his climax edge closer. “tell me—fuck—how big is it?”
your stupid brain catches his words, and your fingers dig into his neck as you gasp and moan, the stimulation of his massive cock slamming into you was ruining you. mentally and physically. it was humiliating. but still…
“haah—fuh its’ it’s so big— i wan’ you to cum in me! please —wan’ your cum so bad, wanna feel your big fat cock cum inside my pussy toji—ahh!”
anothet sharp spank takes your breath away.
toji is at a loss.
his grunts grew louder and thrusts sloppier, until finally, he gave you one final thrust, and stilled. his ass tightens, body pressing you into the tiled walls, face buried in your neck, and teeth sinking into your shoulder. toji completely unravels in the shower, holding up a pretty college girl that whines so beautifully in his ear he thinks he’d never cum this hard again, but sure enough—
your adorable whine has him rutting shallow thrusts into your pussy, like a fucking dog. his cum pumping out as he continued stuffing you full, purposely milking out ever drop as his dark wet pubes rubbed against your puffy clit.
you both catch your breath. your lashes wet from tears, as the water from the shower head fills the silence. after a moment, toji pulls away from your neck, his lidded eyes, hypnotizing as he stares up at yours.
you don’t know why you suddenly feel shy. your cheeks burn as the emerald irises bore into your own. lips parting, and a gentle hand coming up to his cheek. you brush back the raven hair flattening against his features, smiling softly when his full face comes into view.
and he could’ve sworn you looked like an actual angel at this moment.
your eyes twinkled above, face illuminating in the dark shower, and body glistening like you’re an eternal being.
“toji…” the soft call has his heart doing something it hasn’t done in years. and that has his soft cock twitching inside you. “I’m,” you lean closer, arms wrapping around his shoulder, lips hovering near his, breasts smushed against his chest. your confidence comes back the moment you feel the man lean closer..but you continue. “I hope you don’t think…i wanted to have sex…just because i thought your dick was really big.”
toji blinks.
then he does the worst thing ever.
he laughs.
your cheeks sting, watching his head fall back in loud laughter. your hand flys to your face, embarrassed. “I’m being serious!” you yell.
toji laughs louder, body shaking as he lifts you up, his cock slipping out. he carefully sets your shaky feet down on the wet tile. the height difference returns, making you even more ticked off, your little attitude was oozing out, and his slick cock couldn’t help but twitch against his thigh at your pouting.
god, you’re fucking hot.
he brings your attention back to him. hands cupping your face, tilting your head to look up at him. your brows are pinched together, and lips pulled in a subtle scowl.
toji smirks. “don’t worry, I know you also took pictures of my face.”
you flush, rolling your eyes. “those were accidents.”
“so you just wanted pictures of my dick?”
your eyes widen, “no! i told you they were all accidents.”
toji clicks his tongue, leaning down to your level, making your tummy flip “you’re fucking cute, but let’s not lie to adults.”
“I’m an adult though,” you raise a brow, pushing back, and god if that wasn’t the hottest thing ever.
but still, toji’s easygoing smile remains on his playful lips, “it’s embarrassing. i understand,” he softens the blow as your face heats. it was humiliating when he found those pictures, “taking photos of the coach like that. but now’s the time to take some accountability.”
you lick your teeth, eyes boring into him, narrowing. but it’s toji. toji is asking. and you can’t hold back any longer…
you exhale, glancing away, even though he’s still cupping your face. “yeah, obviously I took those photos on purpose,” your eyes meet. “happy?”
water is still running down his shoulders as he keeps your face tucked carefully in his hands like you’re something precious despite the grin threatening to split across his face again.
but then toji smirks. “ecstatic.”
your eyes narrow immediately, “you’re so annoying.”
he huffs another laugh under his breath, quieter this time, thumbs brushing over your heated cheeks. standing this close to him is ridiculous now that the adrenaline’s settling. he’s huge. his broad chest still damp against yours, muscles flexing every time he shifts, towering over you while you stand there completely naked except for the necklaces you’re wearing. the little gold chains glisten under the shower head, delicate against flushed skin, and toji’s eyes flick down to them for a second before returning to your face.
that look in his eyes makes your stomach tighten all over again. he knows he’s not trying to be mocking, or casual like before. it’s fondness.
“those shots were real creative, sweetheart,” he says, voice rougher now. “nice and close too.”
you groan, immediately trying to shove his chest, but he barely moves. “oh my god, can you let it go already?”
“can’t,” he answers easily. “been thinkin’ about it for weeks.”
your face burns hotter. weeks?!
toji watches it happen in real time, watches the attitude crack just enough for embarrassment to slip through, again. and it does something terrible to him. you’re sharp with everyone else—cool, hard to impress. he’s seen it. seen the way you brush off gojo and geto without a second thought. but with him? you melt.
even now, glaring up at him with your brows pulled tight, lips still swollen from kissing, legs trembling from the multiple orgasms, trying so hard to stay irritated while your body keeps betraying you. it’s fucking adorable.
“don’t look at me like that,” you mutter weakly.
“like what?”
“like you know things.”
his grin widens instantly. “but i do know things now.”
what proceeded after was the thirty something year old coach, dropping to his knee and lifting your leg up, burying his face between your legs like a starving man. your lips part in shock.
but still, as toji works your pretty body to another orgasm, tongue shoved inside, cleaning this little pussy up, jaw slack as he gulps down his own cum. your fingers thread through his hair, tugging whenever he’d give your clit a mean rough suck, cheeks hollowing. his hand, grips your ass from behind, squeezing and slapping as he pleased, until you were falling apart.
afterwards, he cleaned you up. this time with some soap. his big hands roamed your body, every crevice and curve, hands massaging your breasts as he had your back pressed to his chest, chuckling when you’d whine. thumbs tugging playfully. hand rubbing between your legs, head tucked in your shoulder as he watches your smaller hands hold his forehead, face hot.
“toji,” you whine, embarrassed, as he teasing a finger against your hole again.
“what,” he smirks, watching your reactions, “I’m jus’ cleaning you up.”
he’s a fucking perv. but still, he teases you through the whole shower, keeping you close to his body and even letting you wash his back, admiring the muscles and ink that decorate his skin.
eventually, he steps out first, keeping you inside so he can grab an extra towel. his own wrapped around his waist.
that was the start of all of it.
three months later….
you and shoko are sitting out in the quad. table covered in assignments and forgotten laptops. all while you explained to shoko how your weekend went.
“no, we definitely got along. megumi is so cute!” you gush about the ten year old, describing how your first meeting went. toji had spoken about you enough to prepare megumi, waiting until the right time to introduce you both.
and now, you’re going to every single one of their soccer games, toji and megumi’s.
and eventually, after another hour passes by. a group of athletes comes walking down the path. covered in sweat, holding their duffles, and behind them is a very hot coach, already breaking into a smile when you jump up.
“toji!”
it was a routine. your arms thrown around his shoulders, as he lifts you up with one hand. zero regard for any pda, as he kisses you deeply. smiling as you hum, pecking him over and over.
“why do you guys look like that?” shoko grimaces, looking at gojo and geto who look far worse than the rest of the team that leave.
geto scowls, glaring at his best friend, “fucking coach overhead him again.”
shoko shakes her head, rolling her eyes, at the white haired idiot. “you need to stop—“
“it’s been three months and she’s not over that old man?!”
“he’s not even that old!” shoko defends.
but gojo scowls harder, glancing over his shoulder at you laughing and talking, hands animated, like the man in front of you was holding the world. “it’s always the mean girls.”
shoko frowns, “you’re messed up in the head.”
but even geto narrows his eyes when toji wraps a possessive arm around you, glaring up at the two players.
it was clear as day.
you’re his.
a/n: this was LOONG overdue, mb guys!!! but i hope you all enjoyed it!!! ahhhh i love coach toji sososososo much—like its a serious problem, i cant make reader behave normally when its toji, like she has to be obsessed with himmm
anyways, the next oneshot will def be the frat gojo fic! possibly thinking of frat geto after this oneshot too bc i put in some little easter eggs about how they both kinda lean into mean girls so stay tuned! — (divider by @/strangergraphics)
Synopsis: Toji, the TA, won't bump up your latest essay a couple marks, not with just some begging at least, so you try a different method:
good ol' pussy persuasion
Warnings: toji art by @/youKa.i on insta, smut, porn with a lil plot, nerd!toji, a couple years older than reader but both students, reader harasses him but don't save him he's right where he wants to be, some comedy aspect, college au, non curse au, f!reader, blowjob under the desk, unethical behaviour, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v, briefest choking, sex against the window, pússy inspection, belly bulging, overstimulation, spitting, a little fisting I guess or almost, Toji's poor so this is canon compliant jkjk, creampie and unprotected sex, brief pussyjob, size kink/difference, hidden sex, not proofread
Word Count: 10.7k
“For the last time,” he drawls, “I’m not bumping you up a grade.”
You groan, pushing your legs to catch up to him faster.
“Come on, I need this. I’m not asking you to break the rules. All I want is for you to reread my essay and find extra marks, which you will!”
Toji Fushiguro is a tough nut to crack, though he doesn’t look it — one glance at him and one would think he’s a laidback TA. He’s the exact opposite; he takes his job a little too seriously.
For days now, you’d been hounding him, pleading with him and degrading yourself all for him to ‘remark’ your last paper and ‘coincidentally’ find a few extra marks that would push you to the top performing spot you’d been eyeing since forever. Each time you rushed into his office, waited for him after his classes, and followed him to his apartment, he’d shrugged you off with the same ‘I don’t get paid enough for this’ look in his eyes.
Rounding the corner, his long legs making no accommodations for your shorter ones, he says, “No. If you wanted better results, you should have put in a better performance. Surely you’re smart enough to work out that that’s how life works.”
Hands grab his arm, yanking back with all your strength only to be dragged along with him and his burly body. Your heels scrape along the floor. People stare. You don’t care. “Don’t be an asshole. You know my essay was good. It was really good. Just give it a read. A proper one, and not the rushed job you do because you’re overworked and underpaid.”
He stops.
Your face bumps into this back, forehead nearly bruised by the hardness.
His brows rise above his glasses as he fixes you a look. “Kid, your essay was good — decent introduction, clear structure, sufficient evidence — but it’s not good enough for the extra marks to push you into the top band. Your closing argument fell flat ‘cause of your wishy-washy writing style, you didn’t adequately humour the counter arguments and undermine them to strengthen your thesis, and, worst of all, you misspelt ‘complement.’”
A frown graces your features.
“No, I didn’t. C. O. M. P. L. I. M—”
“No. With an I, it’s to flatter someone. With an E, it’s to enhance, pair well, or complete another thing.” Toji explains rather robotically, eyes still dead and voice monotone. “For example, if I said you’re a pretty girl, that’s a compliment. And if I said, your essay goes well with the trashcan over there, that’s a statement that suggests the two complement each other. See the difference?”
He’s already stalking off again, hands in his pockets, huge stature unwilling to accommodate the people walking down the hallway.
You break into a jog, panting embarrassingly by the time you reach him. “Dude, we’ve known each other for three years. We’ve gone through a lot together. We’re basically friends. Can’t you do your best pal a solid?”
Toji glances down at you. He pushes a door open, holding it a second longer than he needed to. You follow behind him. Somewhat amused, he replies, “We know each other because we’re on the same course, not by choice. And I don’t know what you mean by the whole ‘we’ve gone through a lot together’ thing — the most dramatic thing we’ve faced is when the projector didn’t work and we had to go into a different hall. And we’re definitely not friends.”
Well, fuck, you’re running out of rope.
“Then, let’s officially be friends,” you offer, elbowing him gently. “If you ever need help, buddy, I’ll always have your back.” Then, in an act of complete desperation, you begin shakily singing, “You’ve got a friend in me. You’ve got a friend in me. When the road looks tough ahead—”
A heavy hand shoves you away by your head. You stumble into a bulletin board.
“Enough,” he gruffs. “My day’s already fucked because the prof lost his papers and wants to blame me. I don’t need to lose my hearing on top of that.”
Your head flits around. “Did you guys see that?” People give you weird looks. “He just shoved me. The TA just shoved me. We need to protest his violent behaviour by demanding he remarks our papers. Who’s with me?”
Everyone walks past without another look at you.
Toji, on the other hand, lifts his glasses and runs a hand down his face. Muttering something under his breath, he pushes a door open and holds out a hand before you can mindlessly follow. “It’s the men’s bathroom. Tell me you’re not shameless and stupid enough to come in here.”
“I’ll wait outside.”
His eye twitches.
As though an idea comes to him, he straightens ever so slightly. “I’m gonna take a dump; you’ll be waiting a while.”
“That’s okay — I have no more classes so take your time but make sure you don’t stay sitting down longer than you need to,” you tell him, smiling innocently and standing aside to let a guy walk out, ignoring the freaked out face he makes at you. “You can get hemorrhoids."
He groans. “Jesus fucking Christ, woman.”
That seems to be as much of you he can tolerate because he walks in without another word to you. Opposite the door, you lean against the wall, whistling and coming up with alternative lines you can pull on him.
God, he’s so stubborn.
It’s not like giving you the marks docks his pay or lowers the professor’s opinion of him. He’s clearly just being an ass.
If he wasn’t such a good TA, a genuinely intelligent man, you would have gone above his head and asked for the prof’s personal assessment. But no, he has to be knowledgeable, a helpful source of information when you’re lost, someone who seems to know everything about any topic, who knows the exact pages of a textbook you should read to further your understanding, and who’s never declined a meeting for clarification on something you wrote.
For years now, you two have had a friendship-like relationship, often sharing snacks and exchanging brief words before or after lectures and classes, despite what he says.
Everyone gets along with him, though you’ve never actually seen him hang out with friends or go to parties. Maybe he doesn’t have any. Word on the street is he works part time in a couple different places. Some say so he can afford drugs, some for tuition.
The rumours never interested you, apart from any that mused about his love life, which seems to be nonexistent except for the many girls who hit on him. Not that you’re especially interested.
It’s just fun to be in the know.
Who knows how long has passed since he went in there. Your phone says fifteen minutes. Is that a normal amount of time for someone to be taking a dump?
Hesitantly, you push the door open and yell out, “Fushiguro? You doing okay? Is it stuck? For a couple extra marks, I’ll give you a hand.”
No one replies.
Brows furrowing, you bend down, looking through the stalls. No feet. What the hell?
Ahead, a window is ajar. Big enough for a man to squeeze through. Well isn’t that convenient? The kind of convenient that exists only in fiction.
Aggrieved and feeling bamboozled, you stomp back to your dorm room, slamming the door, jumping face down on the bed and screaming into the pillows. You’d feel better if you knew he had a grudge on you, if you bumped into him the first day and spilled his coffee all over himself and he’d never forgotten it. Instead, he’s just like that: does things by the book, does his job well, and achieves the best grades with ease.
Naturally, he’d become the professor’s assistant, a coveted position that seemed like it was made for him from the very beginning, and made your life a living hell because he won’t ever make concessions for you.
Sure, you shouldn’t ask him to, but it’s not like you’re asking for much. You’re generally a high performing student — punctual, hard working, ambitious — but you had one bad day which resulted in one bad essay and it lowered your average and now the internship you’d been eyeing could be snatched from your hands in a blink of an eye.
“It’s just not fair,” you cry out to your teddy bear. “It’s three marks. Three! Would it kill him to reread my essay and find those three marks?”
Mr. Teddy stares back at you and says, “He’s a grumpy man. Don’t take it personally.”
You sit up, blinking and processing his reply.
“Teddy…you’re right. He is a grumpy man, a TA with broad shoulders, yummy arms, and thick thighs with a bubble butt, but a man nonetheless. If he won’t pull favours for me, student to student, maybe he’ll pull favours for me man to woman.”
The plushie falls to the bed as you stand, staring at yourself in the mirror and formulating a plan.
With that you decide to seek him out the next day, sporting a new outfit and a different attitude.
.
.
.
“Hi.”
“Fuck off.”
The cafeteria’s busy. It always is. It’s loud enough that most people wouldn’t even hear the exchange — chairs banging on tile, trays clattering, someone laughing too loudly at a table nearby.
Toji’s hunched slightly over a bowl of udon noodles, chopsticks moving lazily as he slurps them down. Some sports clip plays on his phone, propped against his dented metal water bottle. Commentators yell about something you don’t understand. His sleeves are pushed up over his forearms, revealing ropey muscle and the faint silvery line of an old scar running across his wrist.
An old hoodie hangs off his shoulders over a plain white T-shirt. Distressed jeans, worn sneakers. He’s too big for the plastic chair, long legs spread under the table. When he saw you approach, his feet had hooked onto the chair legs, forcing you to fight to remove it from his clutches so you could take a seat.
So damn rude.
His glasses have fogged slightly from the steam of the noodles.
He doesn’t look up. But he knows it’s you. You can tell by the way his mouth tightens for half a second before he goes back to eating.
You snatch his phone away. His green eyes flick up, annoyed. You smile, arms pushing your breasts together so they spill over your tight top. Toji’s gaze doesn’t waver. He continues to stare at you like you’re a pest.
“You can’t take no for an answer?” he asks though it’s not a question at all. “Might want to retake the consent course.”
Manicured fingers walk up his bare forearm before scratching down from his elbow. His skin is warm. Light dusting of hair tickling your fingertips. “Oh, Toj, have I ever told you how handsome you are? Because you really are. You’re so damn hot I can hardly focus on the lectures.”
He snorts, still eating his noodles and still refusing to look at your cleavage. “That’ll explain why you’re missing marks.”
Jaw dropping, you force yourself to recover quickly. A heeled foot brushes against his calf, sliding his jeans up. You bat your lashes, sultrily saying, “The only thing I’m missing is your cock in me, big boy.”
Toji meets your eyes again. His scarred lips twitch. “I don’t need to tell you that was bad, do I?”
You cringe, foot dropping and whole body slumping back into the chair. “Yeah, I heard it as soon as I said it.” Then you sit up, handing him his phone, and asks, “Are the noodles good? I’ve never had them.”
Phone pocketed, he shrugs. “They’re just the cheapest deal on the menu. Growing girl like you should get something more filling.”
The menu’s extensive, and the only thing sticking out to you is the chicken burger and chicken tenders meal deal. It seems to be especially popular today but you’re not sure you can finish the whole thing.
“Hey, if I get the Meal Super Cluck Blaster, will you share it with me? I’ve got dinner plans later so I don’t want to fill up.”
That finally gets a reaction. Toji leans back a little and gives you a slow once-over. Tight top. Lacy bra peeking up. Glossy lips. More jewellery than usual. His eyebrow lifts. “That why you’re dressed like a hooker?” he asks lazily. “Hot date?”
“Nah,” you reply, waving him off. “Wore this for yo— Wait.” You lean forward, staring at him wide eyed. “Are you jealous? Are you in love with me already? Because for extra marks, I’ll cancel my dinner plans and promise myself to you for all eternity.”
Toji rolls his eyes. “Go get something to eat; you sound insane.”
You hop up. “Okay, but stay there, alright? Take my burger because I only want the tenders. Oh, and will you share a pot of cheesecake with me? I’m lactose-intolerant but I really want cheesecake right now.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He’s still here when you come back.
As soon as you hand him the wrapped up burger, he scarfs it down the way big men do, like they haven’t eaten in days. You push him the tenders too. You’d actually gotten a double serving of everything so you have your own portion of tenders and he gets to eat another burger. There’s no way a man his size could survive on udon noodles.
“Also, let’s not act like you didn’t leave me hanging outside the men’s bathroom yesterday,” you bring up after sipping your juice. “Can’t believe you left through the bathroom window just so you could get away from me.”
“I didn’t,” he says, mouth full and adjusting his glasses.
You frown, dipping a piece of chicken in hot honey. “No, you definitely did. I peeked and there were no feet in any of the stalls. Unless you’re telling me you can grow invisible.”
“Just lifted my legs when I heard you come in, which I knew your crazy ass would do, so I could finally leave in peace. Didn’t think it’d take you fifteen minutes though.”
A laugh escapes you. “You were waiting me out? Does that sound like the mature thing to do? Jeez, you need to act your age.”
Toji’s eyes meet yours. Your smile falters for the briefest second. “I’m not that much older than you,” he reminds you. “Only by two years.”
“And yet you call me kid or kiddo,” you retort, clearing your throat. Have his eyes always been that green and deep? And is his voice usually that husky and masculine? Because you could have sworn guys your age don’t sound like that.
He shrugs again, second burger finished in a blink of an eye. “Never hurts to remind yourself.”
“Remind yourself what?”
The legs of his chair screech as he pushes it back. He stands, picking up his tray, and answers, “Forget about it. Enjoy your dinner plans. And I’m taking the cheesecake — no one wants a gassy date.”
“Wait,” you call out before he can turn away. “My marks?”
A pat on the head ruffles your hair.
“Still a no, kid.”
.
.
.
“What if I suck your dick?”
Toji lifts his glasses to rub at his eyes. “I’ve got a ton of papers to grade for another class; I don’t have time for you.”
The door shuts behind you. His office is bare, not a single decoration littering the place, not a plant nor a picture.
His office is exactly how you remember it — disappointingly, aggressively empty. The walls are a dull institutional beige that makes the overhead fluorescent light feel even harsher. No posters. No photos. Not even a sad little plant struggling for life in the corner.
Just a desk. A filing cabinet. Two chairs that look like they were stolen from a waiting room. It’s the kind of office someone occupies temporarily, like he expects to leave at any moment and doesn’t see the point in settling in.
Leaning against the desk anyway, your fingers drum lazily along the edge.
You’ve been here before: once to argue about a paper he’d shredded with red ink, once because you’d missed an exam and needed him to sign a form, and once because you’d sworn you heard him swearing loud enough to be heard halfway down the hallway.
You grip his shoulder, squeezing as you scan the fat stack of papers on his desk — the prof’s particular about handwritten essays. There’s so much to read through; you do not want to be him.
“God,” you mutter, flipping through a few pages of the stack. “There’s like fifty here.”
“Seventy-two,” Toji corrects without looking up. His handwriting is sharp and aggressive, red ink slashing through entire paragraphs like he’s committing academic murder. You wince in sympathy for whoever wrote the paper currently being dismantled.
“Good thing you can multitask, can’t you? I’ll suck your dick under the desk, you grade papers, and you bump me up a grade. Easy.”
He shrugs you off, hulking body hunched over and pen scratching on the papers, leaving harsh circles and comments like, ‘what the hell does this mean?’ and ‘you can’t just say perchance.’
Toji gruffs, “I’m serious. Take your jokes elsewhere.”
Nah, you think to yourself.
With a massive struggle against his weight, you yank his chair back, wheeling him a distance from the desk and clambering under before he can fill the space again. He makes some noise above you but you pay him no mind. Your hands rest on his meaty thighs through his sweatpants, marvelling at the density, at the strength you find in them.
“You’re fucking ridiculous.” His foot nudges your knee. “Get the fuck out. I’ll cropdust you if I have to.”
You call his bluff by clutching his clothed cock. He jolts, grunting. Laughing softly, you muse, “You say all that but you have a semi already — did my proposition get you hard, Toji?”
You’re rubbing his hard on, trying not to get flustered by how big he feels, and how fat the girth is. Of course he’s big. In hindsight, you really shouldn’t have been so surprised; he’s a big man so naturally the proportions will match up.
“Suck my dick, don’t suck my dick, it doesn’t matter,” he says, sighing and probably pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re not getting those marks.”
He thinks that’ll stave you off because he knows you’re whoring yourself out for a grade. What he doesn’t know is that your stupid little brain’s already forgotten about all of that the moment you felt his cock. Now all you can think about is how you’ll have to stretch your lips nice and wide to take him in, and even then, even when your throat is lax and loose, you won’t be able to take him to the base.
Toji grunts again, peering down at you. “You mouthing at my dick? Did’ya not hear what I said?”
Like you’ve been possessed, you press kisses to where his tip is, humming around it. “I heard, but your dick’s saying other things to me, and I know which I prefer to listen to.”
“My dick’s not marking your paper, so get the fuck up,” he growls.
“Don’t wanna.”
“You’re fucking killing me here.”
A heavy hand bundles your hair up, pulling but you fight against it, hooking your fingers under the waistband and releasing him from the constraints. His boxers have a hole, and yet you only find it endearing. Freeing his cock so it bounces up and smacks your cheek, it leaves a wet mark on your skin.
Tutting, he wipes away the wetness from your skin.
Oh fuck, he really is big.
With nothing between you and his dick, you can see him in all his glory in the partial shadow of under his desk — long, thick, flushed red, already shiny at the slit, veiny as hell, hairs at the base wild and unruly, with weighty balls to match. You’ve never seen anything better.
Tongue out, you lick him from base to tip, prodding at his frenulum.
“Quit it,” he commands through gritted teeth.
You moan wantonly, already addicted to the salt on his kin, to the texture of his veins, to the softness of his cockhead. “Toji, you’re so big. I don’t think this’ll fit inside me.”
The thing throbs, bobbing. A droplet oozes out and you quickly lick it up. The hand that was pulling your hair has grown slack, simply resting on the back of your head, keeping you from bumping the wood.
Voice hoarse, he mutters, “If anyone can make it fit, it’ll be your stubborn ass.”
Your eyes meet his from under the desk, mischief sparkling in them you’re sure. His cock throbs again. “I thought you had papers to mark, Fushiguro. Maybe you should get on that, no?”
A calloused thumb presses down on your lips, shushing you. It slides down, bringing your bottom lip down with it, before releasing it so it’ll bounce back in place. That same thumb holds your jaw open, hand guiding your mouth to his tip. You know what he wants. You also know that he knows that you both know that you won this time.
Wide as you can, you take as much of his length as possible. You don’t get much further than a third of the way, full beyond belief and overwhelmed by just how much of him there still is. Your nails dig into his thighs.
“If this is supposed to convince me to give you extra marks, then you’re failing real hard, doll,” he notes, gripping the base. “Can barely fit the head, can you?”
He’s acting like it’s your fault he’s so big.
Challenged, you loosen your throat to take him an inch deeper. You gag around the length. Toji curses under his breath. “Careful,” he mutters. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
You ignore him in favour of shallowly bobbing, sucking and licking what you can, as though he’s a lollipop. It’s actually kinda fun.
The familiar sound of pen scratching on paper and paper rubbing on paper echoes in the relatively quiet office. Only the wet sounds of your mouth sucking his cockhead pierces the silence.
Growing more and more used to his size, you flick your tongue around the head, letting your hands wrap around the rest of him, squeezing and tugging in time with your mouth. Occasionally, he makes a couple breathy noises — low grunts when your tongue laps up his tip, gravelly groans when you hollow your cheek to suck, and rough exhales through his nose when you grip his balls, massaging them, thumb rubbing the seam.
It becomes easier to forget why you were here in the first place; you’re just blowing him for your own entertainment now, wanting something to occupy your throat.
Then, he asks, as though he’s making casual conversation, “How was the date?”
“Hmm?”
Toji rolls his eyes. “The date,” he repeats. “How was it? He pay for the meal? Open doors, see you to your door, kiss you goodnight and shit?”
Your lips stretch into a smile. You release him with a pop! “I didn’t go on a date,” you tell him. “My friends hosted a housewarming party because they moved in together. I had a great time, thanks for asking.”
Is he pleased? Unaffected? Genuinely just making conversation? Hard to tell, except for the pushing of his hand, urging you back to his dick, and taking him further inside your throat, till his tip bumps the back of the gummy walls.
“Good,” he exhales out, thighs flexing around your body. “That’s real good.”
“My blowjob skills or that I had a great time?” you ask, words muffled and barely understandable.
“Both,” he answers. “Both, doll.”
A knock on the door has you both stiffening. Toji glares down at you and whispers, “It’s the prof. Do not make a sound.”
He didn’t need to tell you that — you’re well aware that if you get caught, you’ll both face disciplinary action, and will likely be kicked out of the university. That’s worse than not getting the internship.
The office falls quiet so suddenly you can hear the ticking of the wall clock. Toji’s hand tightens briefly against the desk as the knock comes again. “Come in,” he calls, voice steady.
The door opens before he even finishes the word.
“Ah, Fushiguro, there you are,” the professor says, stepping inside with a stack of papers tucked under one arm. “I wasn’t sure if you’d left already.”
From your position under the desk, you can only see shoes. Polished leather. Slow steps across the floor. You don’t slide his cock out of your throat, lest it makes a sloppy noise that’ll give you both away. So you breathe through your nose, being very, very quiet.
“No, I was just finishing up some grading,” Toji replies, cool as a cucumber.
His tone is annoyingly normal. Completely unbothered. He’s really convincing. Has he done this before? Is this a normal occurrence? Do a lot of girls offer to blow him for better marks, and does he take them up on it? Are you the one exception to his generosity?
“Good, good.” Papers shuffle. A chair creaks as the professor sits across from the desk. “I actually wanted to ask about the research methods essays.”
Of course he did.
You squeeze your eyes shut.
Toji shifts slightly above you — just enough that the movement brushes your shoulder — and then he leans back in his chair. “Yeah?” he says.
“I noticed something odd in the submissions this year,” the professor continues. “Half the class seems to misunderstand the section on sampling bias.”
He hums thoughtfully. “You mean where they’re supposed to explain the limitations of convenience sampling?”
“Exactly.”
A sheet of paper slides across the desk.
“You see this one here—”
From below, you hear Toji pick it up.
“—they describe the method correctly, but their conclusion contradicts their own analysis.”
There’s a pause whilst the TA reads. You stare at the underside of the desk and try not to shift your knees. God, this is like torture. Having a cock lodged in your throat and not being able to do anything with it is hell. Above the desk, they’re chatting away, talking about your fellow students, with the professor none the wiser that one such student’s under the desk.
“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “They’re treating correlation like it proves causation.”
“Precisely!” the professor says, sounding delighted. “It’s surprisingly common.” Another pause. You hear a pen tap the desk twice. “I was thinking next year we might restructure the lecture slightly,” the professor continues. “Maybe introduce a short case study before the assignment.”
“Could work,” Toji replies. “Give them something concrete, tangible, to analyse.”
Your legs are starting to cramp. Your lips tighten around his hot cock. Toji brushes your hair back from your face, a quiet act to show he hasn’t forgotten about you. The professor keeps talking, completely unaware.
“Also,” he says, shuffling more papers, “the literature review sections were stronger this year.”
“Mm.”
“I suspect the workshop helped.”
Toji lets out a quiet huff that might be agreement.
“You handled that well, by the way,” the professor adds. “The students seem to respond to your feedback.”
This is way too boring, you decide. In an act you might end up regretting for the rest of your life, your offended tongue prods his tip where he’s still leaking salty precum.
He grunts, knee crashing up on the wood.
The professor asks him if he’s alright, and Toji replies, “Fine. Sorry. Just had a cramp.”
A triumphant smile pulls at your lips, which is quickly wiped away by the sudden pinch at your cheek. You wince, unable to smack him in retaliation.
A sigh fills the room. “I fear you work too hard, Fushiguro. You ought to take a break here and there. Do something fun and wild, or whatever it is people your age do nowadays.”
“I am having fun,” Toji says, hand coming back to rest on your head, growing heavier and heavier until you’re forced to take him inside your mouth, deeper and deeper. “In my own way.”
He’s filling you up more than he was before, now more insistent, no longer so passive. You’re struggling to take him but he’s not letting up. Fuck, you’re soaked between the legs. Who knew you had an oral fixation?
“Well, good,” the professor says. He pushes his chair back. Your heart jumps in joy. “I won’t keep you any longer, I know those papers won’t mark themselves. Boy do I not envy you.” He laughs. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“You too, Professor.”
Footsteps move toward the door. The handle turns. The door opens. Closes. Silence. Two seconds pass.
Then Toji peers down, licking his scarred lips, and mutters under his breath, “You needy fucking girl. Couldn’t wait, could you? Couldn’t resist not being a pain my fucking ass. If you want cock so badly, then here you go.”
His hips thrust up, hand keeping you in place. Your eyes fly open, throat stretching to take all of him in. Oh, he was as pent up, as frustrated, as you were. The force in which he’s rutting inside your throat displays that nice and clear.
“You’ll do anything for a good grade, won’t you? Even debase yourself like this. God, you drive me crazy.”
You gag around his cock but he doesn’t pay any mind to that. No, Toji’s just rutting inside your mouth over and over again, grunting louder and louder now.
Meanwhile, your hand seeks out the heat between your legs. You grind against the heel of your palm, moaning around his length. The vibration has his balls tightening up.
“Fuck!”
Hot cum bursts inside, coating the walls of your throat and your tongue.
Toji leans back in his chair, which creaks. You pull him out, coughing at the salty burn. Damn, even his loads are big. It’s like a cream puff exploded inside your mouth.
Hands carry you up, sitting you on his thigh. One rubs your back in circles, the other wipes away the tears at your eyes, licking at the wetness he’s collected on his thumb. “You good, kid?” he asks, brows furrowed.
“Yeah,” you respond, voice hoarse and not fooling anyone. “I’m good.”
You take a sip of his water from his water bottle, not caring about the fact that you’re drinking from where he had been, and if he cared that your mouth which had been sucking on his dick and cum is on his cup, he didn’t say.
He sighs, tucking himself back in and says, “Come by my place tonight. Hand me your essay again and I’ll reread it. But I’m not making any promises about finding extra marks, alright? It’s just a second chance, and the only one you’ll get.”
Dopily, you smile at him. “Throat game that good, huh?”
His lips twitch. He shoves you away, smacking your ass as you walk away.
“I’ll text you the time and place. Don’t be late.”
Nodding, you head for the door, not leaving however till you ask, “Should I wear matching underwear, or is this a strictly keep your clothes on meeting?”
“Fuck off before I regret it.”
“Lacy thong it is!”
.
.
.
“Should I spread my legs now or do you want me to fluff you first?”
Toji’s deadpan face meets you when he opens the door. He sighs as though he’s regretting this already. Regardless, he lets you in.
You can tell he showered recently — there’s the scent of cheap soap lingering on his skin and his hair is still a little damp.
His apartment is nice and clean, which surprises you somewhat. Most guys your age tend to be messy. But you should have known the TA would be neat and organised.
“I’m serious,” you begin, snuggling up to his side and batting your lashes up at him, “what position do you want me? I’m not the most flexible but I’m not too bad.”
Shaking you off, he pushes you in the direction of the living room where the coffee table is covered with carefully laid out papers he no doubt carried from campus to continue working on. “Go sit down, you horny gremlin. Make some room for your essay and let’s get this over with.”
You do as he says, folding your legs so you can sit by the coffee table on the rug. You take the essay out of your bag, shoving all the others to the side. With a frown, you ask, “So we’re really not fucking?”
He folds himself down too, sitting beside you, knee brushing yours. “I don’t solicit sex in exchange for academic favours. Dunno why you’re so surprised by that — can’t recall having done anything to make you think otherwise.”
“Well, you did give in after I blew you, so…”
“I was gonna offer before you did all that,” he informs you, snorting. “Just never promised to give you the marks.”
Toji adjusts his glasses, taking your papers and starting his reassessment of it. His lips purses, brows furrows, and he stares at the thing like it could tell him the answers to the universe. That or it’s so bad he just can’t fathom what you were thinking.
“Second paragraph, third line, why the hell is it so convoluted?” he asks, voice returning to that grumpy tone you’re more than familiar with now.
It’s the latter, it would seem. He really meant business. You shaved and everything for nothing. What a shame.
Leaning over, you rest your head on his big bicep, and, with a pout, reply, “I thought it sounded smart; I was pretty proud of that line actually.”
“No, doll,” Toji says, sighing. “The simpler the better. Don’t purposefully complicate your syntax. Only do what’s necessary to get the point across. If I, an expert in this topic, can barely understand what you mean, how is the ordinary person supposed to?”
“Yeah, okay. Simple is better, I get it.”
He continues reading, red pen in hand and making annotations as he goes. Meanwhile, you’re worming your way into his lap: one hand resting on his thigh at first, then a leg thrown over his. He notices what you’re doing — there’s no way he doesn’t know — but he doesn’t put up a fight. Eventually, you’re sitting in his lap, his chin resting on your head, and his arms caging you in.
Toji’s warm. He’s comfy to rest on despite all the muscles. Closer now, his soapy scent envelops you. It goes straight to your head. You find yourself squirming.
“Keep still,” he reprimands, underlining a phrase twice for emphasis. “You can’t just use jargon if you’re not going to explain it. It’s bad practice.”
“Got it.” Fiddling with his spare hand, running your fingers down his and over his palm, you ask, “Are academics supposed to have calluses?”
“They bother you or something?”
“No, not at all. I’m just curious.”
He hums. “I do odd jobs here and there, some more manual than others so yeah I built up some calluses.” Without missing a beat, he pivots the topic. “Tell me again what the difference is between compliment and complement.”
You bring that hand up to your breast, imploring him to grope your tits as you reply, “With an I is to praise someone or something, and with an e is to say something matches well with another.”
A moan escapes your lips when he squeezes in approval. Toji mutters, “Good girl. Guess you do listen to me.” Thumb brushing your hardened nipple through the thin material of your top, you squirm in his lap. His lips move against the top of your head. “No bra?”
“I figured you were going to take it off me anyway so I didn’t bother,” you say, still pressing his hand to your tit, riding the motions of every grope and flick of your nipple.
Another hum.
Slowly, you guide that hand down lower. He must know what you’re doing, where you want it to end up, but he doesn’t stop you, doesn’t reprimand or put up any resistance; he’s curious to see how far you’re willing to go. And you’re curious to see how much restraint he has, how long he can hold out before his façade of nonchalance breaks and he’s fucking up inside you.
You tease yourself, and him, first — his fingers, with your guidance, tease your bare thighs, following the hem of your tight skirt. Growing breathless, you ask, “What kind of odd jobs do you do?”
Toji’s calluses tickle the sensitive skin in your inner thighs just right. He’s still marking your paper, occasionally fact-checking your ideas and his theories in a textbook on the table. Amused, he retorts, “You curious about me, doll?”
“Hmm, I want to know exactly whose cock will be stretching me out in a minute.”
He snorts, patting your clothed pussy. You jolt with every impact. “I tutor on the side. Fix up some cars in the garage in town. I’m a physical trainer for three clients at the local gym too. And when I’m low on money, I sell risqué pictures of myself. That disgust you?”
All while he answers, Toji’s blunt nails scrape your slit through your panties. He’s not applying much pressure at all, if any, and yet every skim, every travel up and down has goosebumps rising on your skin.
“N-no,” you answer quickly. “I think that’s really cool. If I had a body like yours, I’d take pictures all the time too.”
His laughter rumbles in his chest. An odd sense of pride warms your own. He says, “Your body’s more than good enough to sell too, you know. Don’t act like you don’t know guys give you double takes all the time, or that your ass could stop traffic.”
Giggling, you lean back, gazing up at him with a smile. “Do you stare at my ass sometimes, Toji?”
God, you’re soaked. You can tell, though you’re not embarrassed whatsoever. If anything, you’re just itching for him to pull your panties to the side and touch you skin to skin, to plunge inside your pussy and make a mess out of you.
“Tell me where you can, and should, insert a semi-colon in paragraph six, and I’ll give you an honest answer.”
He nudges you with his chin. “Go on. Quit thinking with your pussy and give me the right answer.” A little aggrieved, you sit up straight, holding his wrist to keep his hand between your legs. Your eyes scan the section. Tentatively, you point to a full stop on the second line. Toji shakes his head and smacks your clothed pussy again. “Try again, and don’t guess.”
“Here,” you snarl, feeling way past pent up. “Now give me my reward.”
Toji huffs. “Semi-colons help for varying sentence structures. It’s in the little ways you can convey your points compellingly. Don’t underutilise the right punctuations.”
“Yeah, yeah, smarty pants. Rub my clit and answer my question already.”
Cool air brushes against your swollen, glistening lips. You sigh when his warm hand covers the entire slit barely a second later. His middle fingers are instantly coated in your wetness. He groans. “Fuck, doll, you’re dripping.” Toji doesn’t give you a moment to respond to that; his fingers rub at your throbbing clit in tight circles, drawing it out of his hood. You moan, back arching.
Finally, he answers, “I stare at your ass all the fucking time after I glare at the losers whose eyes wander from their laptop screens . I’m a big, fucking hypocrite — that what you wanna hear?”
“Fuck yes!”
Rustling of paper reaches your ears. Then two hands are on you: one furiously rubbing the bundle of nerves and the other gripping your throat. He squeezes threateningly. Your vision spots, jaw dropping. “Look at you, all desperate to have my cock inside you. And for what? For a couple marks? You’re not ashamed?”
Your ass is grinding back on his boner, sandwiching the hard thing between your cheeks as your own answer. How could you be ashamed when he wants you so bad too?
“I’m horny! Are you gonna fuck me or not?”
In a split second, you find your world spinning. Your back falls on something hard. You’re staring up at the ceiling, papers scattered beneath you. Rough hands tug you down by your thighs. When you peer down, Toji’s staring up at you from between your lips.
“Yeah, I’m fucking you. You already knew I was gonna. You gonna let me taste your pussy first?” A challenging brow quirks up, like he’s waiting for you to push him away.
Instead, your legs hook over his shoulders, ankles crossed. You grin at him.
Panties pulled to the side, his fingers spread your pussy for him. Those eyes scan every inch. He releases a shaky breath, cheeks flushed and Adam’s apple bobbing. “Even your pussy’s pretty. Fucking gorgeous.” Running a hand through his hair, he says, “You’re always such a pain, aren’t you?”
“I can’t help that every part of me’s pretty,” you reply, twirling your hair.
“Shut up and play with your tits — I like a show with my dinner.” Toji spits a fat dollop right on your clit. It slides down your slit but before it can disappear in the crevice of your ass, his tongue is collecting it and shoving it inside your cunt.
You gasp. “Fuck, Toji!”
In spite of his aggressive tone, you pull down your top, letting your tits bounce out. Those eyes follow every jiggle. “Good girl,” he rasps. “Squeeze them for me nice and hard. Good. Real fucking good.”
His glasses are foggy now with your own humidity, rattling with every movement. He’s eating your pussy out like he’s starved, like he’s never tasted anything better, like he’s going to make sure not a single trace of you can be found in his apartment after he’s done with you.
Growling, he spread your thighs wider. “Course you’ve got a sweet pussy,” he says, brows furrowing in what appears to be anger. “Course it’s sweeter than that fucking cheesecake. Course I’ll be craving you till I die.”
Fingers tangle in his hair, tugging for purchase. “Ngh, Toji, my clit…suck my clit!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Those scarred lips, the very ones you’ve stared at more times than you can count, wrap around your clit, sucking hard the way you did when you were blowing him under the desk. Electricity sparks inside, sending tremors up from your lower belly to your tits to the very tips of your fingers. “Oh fuck, that’s so good.”
Filthy squelches are being wrung out of you, and you know he’s doing it on purpose, addicted to how responsive your body is to him.
Two fingers worm their way through your pulsing hole, basking in the rough textures of your entrance, stretching your gummy walls on their way to curling against that spot that has you oozing more cum out.
“You’re fucking tight,” he hisses. “You’re gonna struggle taking all of me later.” Then he barks a laugh, spare hand pressing down on your belly where the pressure builds up. Your toes curl. “A better man would take pity on you, go slow or wait another day, but I’ve already had my tongue inside your cunt so I’ll spare you the gentleman act.”
More fingers shove in, ignoring the screech that you let out. You’ve never had more than two and yet all four of his thicker, longer fingers are inside pushing your walls to their very limits.
Despite that, he remarks, entertained by the shock on your face which he studies through his glasses, “Suck it up, buttercup — my cock’s thicker than this, you know that.”
You do.
It’s all you’ve been thinking about all day. Hours after, your jaw’s still stretched out, sore and creaking after the workout you put it through. The thought of having something even thicker, longer than his four fingers has you growing dizzy, head handing over the coffee table.
“Yeah, my cock can’t wait to feel you too,” Toji says, not to you but to your pussy which is squelching lewdly and loudly. “Had to resist jerking my dick raw all day so you better make it good for me.”
Is it seconds later, or minutes, maybe hours, when you cum?
How ever long it is no one can deny it’s the strongest orgasm of your life.
Your entire body trembles, spasming beyond control. Are you screaming or silently moaning? Are your eyes shut or have you gone blind? And is he still pistoning his fingers inside you, damn near pushing all of his hand in?
“Stop,” you cry out. “No more, please!”
Mercifully, he yanks his hand out. Unfortunately, it leaves you feeling so empty you immediately crave the feeling of his hand gripping you from inside.
Lips and chin glistening, he kisses both inner thighs, which tremble.
Toji gathers you with one arm, showing off his strength as he carries you off the table and to the glass door which leads out to the balcony. It’s dark out and all you can see are the lights of people’s rooms in the apartment across. There are families lounging, dogs sleeping, TV’s blaring.
Behind you, you hear the rustling of his shirt as he throws it off carelessly. Bare skin grazes your own soon after his hands make quick work of the clothes you’re still wearing. In a flash, you’re naked. He bends down to pick up your fallen panties, inhaling the gusset deeply. Your legs cross tightly at the deeply satisfied groan he lets out.
“Next office hour,” he starts, lazily spreading your pussy lips and smearing your juices around so he can listen to the squelches and keep your squirming, “you better leave your panties with me. Consider it payment.”
You laugh. “Sure.”
Groggily, you try to keep your head up, wondering what you’re doing by the window, still a little out of it. A hand clutches your jaw, aiding you.
“I’m gonna fuck you against this window,” he announces, leaving no room for arguments. “You want those extra marks? Then you’re gonna be a good girl and take my cock like a champ.”
Ass gyrating back against the hot, heavy thing still confined in sweatpants, you wonder, “Do you have an exhibitionism kink?”
He lets go of you. You have to catch yourself by pressing your palms to the cold glass. Toji drags your hips back, foot kicking your legs apart. His cock plops onto your ass, scalding. “No, I have a ‘get my time’s worth from shameless women who waste my time with demands for better grades by humiliating them’ kink.”
“Sounds long. We should get that shortened,” you drawl.
His cockhead slides through your pussy, coating itself in your wetness. The fat thing bumps against your clit. You shudder.
Satisfied with your natural lubrication, he prods your entrance. “Yeah, we should. Let’s call it, Shut The Fuck Up And Take It.”
Then he enters you in one go.
You scream.
The window fogs up with your breath. Your eyes roll to the back of your head.
You’re taking so much of his length so quickly that it should be painful. Despite that, there’s not an ounce of pain, not one you didn’t like at least — only the overwhelming pleasure of being filled up is resonating.
Toji grunts. “Almost had to fist this cunt and you’re -hah fuck- still too tight.”
Pummelling his cock in, his hips don’t pause for a second. You gasp for breath, palms slipping and sliding on the condensation that’s built up on the glass. It’s like you can feel him in your lungs, so impossibly deep, so hot, so intimidating.
“God, it should be a crime to have a body like this,” he says, hands groping every part of your flesh he can reach. He slaps your ass to watch it jiggle for him. He’s an ass man, that much is clear.
The force of his thrusting has you pushed closer to the glass, so close now that almost your entire front is flush with the surface. The coldness grazes your nipples. You moan.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
He tugs you back to him, body sliding down the glass till your ass is jutted out. Toji carries your hips up so you can reach him, but it means your toes are only brushing the floor. You cling to the glass door as much as you can. Through the glossy haze, you see the marks you left on the glass, from the oils and sweat on your skin. You see the outline of your tits, all round and fat, the handprints you left and the smearing of them all over the place because you couldn’t grapple with one position to have them in.
Are people watching? Are you flashing a poor old man, are you reigniting a sexual appetite in a pitiful divorcee, making a housewife jealous, creating fantasies for some guy your age? Are people rubbing one out to the flashes of ecstasy on your face, to the swaying of your tits, to the rippling of your ass?
Toji’s fingers creep under you, furiously teasing your clit. You whine. “I think I’m gonna cum again.”
“Go on, gorgeous,” he rasps. “Lemme feel you cum around my cock. Make my dreams come true.”
Two fingers gather the cream that’s formed a ring at his base. He draws three letters on the glass for you to stare at. It spells out c u m.
God, he’s dirty.
Another orgasm ripples through you. Your thighs shake. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Toji!”
He growls out, hands tightening their grip on your hips, threatening to bruise, “Shit, you’re gonna make me cum early.”
Without waiting for you to come down from your high, he flips you around. Your back thuds against the door. His cock reenters you in a clean, easy slide, cunt beyond soaked and stretched out. Your arms and legs wrap around him.
Those glasses of him have fogged up so thickly now that they fail to serve their purpose. Toji takes it off with one hand, sliding it onto your head, like a headband keeping your face clear of your hair. “Don’t let them fall,” he orders. “They break and you won’t be getting that internship.”
And his lips?
They smack against yours.
He kisses you, all tongue and teeth and drool dripping down chins, like he’s been waiting weeks, months, perhaps years to do that. And you kiss him back just the same.
Inside you, his cock throbs. Toji’s hips swing back and forth, pelvis grinding on yours, rubbing your clit and wringing our more obscene squeeeelches.
“Oh god, I’m so full, Toji. You’re so fucking big.”
“You’re -hngh- t-taking me so well,” he praises, littering sloppy kisses all over your face and neck all while he pinches and rolls your nipples. “Moaning so adorably, all pretty and finally keeping this mouth quiet of smartass comments. You should be like this all the time.”
The rocking of his cock inside you is even better like this. The closeness, the warmth, the taste of him — you wonder why you waited so long to do this.
Tits squashed to his chest, your nipples scrape his skin, slipping and sliding with the sweat beading down your bodies. The hard planes of his chest feel magnificent. Nothing about his muscles are for vanity only, and the knowledge of the strength he’s holding back has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“You’d miss my smartass comments,” you tell him, head thrown back and hips working their way down on his cock of their own volition.
Toji groans against your neck, licking droplets of sweat. “Yeah, maybe. I definitely wouldn’t miss your spelling errors though.”
Smiling, you tug his head up by his hair, and bite his bottom lip. You pull and let go so it’ll snap back into place like he’d done with your lip when you were under his desk. “Maybe if you taught me like this, I wouldn’t -hah- make so m-many mistakes— deeper, Toji! Fuck me deeper.”
His hips plough deeper inside, like you wanted, hitting that spot inside you till you’re sure it’ll be bruised in the morning. Moans after moans are fucked out of you; his neighbours will give him an earful tomorrow, you’re certain.
“Book more office hours just to see me and not because you want something from me, then we can see if I can fuck your stupidity out of you,” he retorts.
You peck his lips. “Aw, does poor, needy Toji want me to give him more attention? Does he miss me when I’m not there? What a cute little baby.”
“Yeah, he does, actually,” he says, smirking. “That a problem?”
“It will be if you don’t make me cum.”
Toji reminds you, “You’ve been cumming around my cock this entire time; you still want more? Greedy girl.”
He pulls away from the window, stalking over to the sofa instead. Each step burrows him deeper inside you, kissing your cervix and pushing out gasps from your lips, all of which he swallows.
Carelessly, he throws you on the sofa. You bounce with an oomph!
Ankles held by one hand, he keeps your legs upright, hips lifted up to meet his. Toji presses a kiss to your ankle bone before he pushes his cock back inside. Your back arches with a mewl. Like this, his huge body becomes even more glaring — he’s casting a shadow over you, completely dwarfing you, reminding you how easily he could break you, how he could take whatever he wants from you.
Every time he buries himself to the hilt, a bulge pops through your tummy, right under your belly button.
“Look at that,” he mutters, brushing a thumb over it. You whine. “Feel me deep inside you? You’ll be feeling me inside for days, won’t you? Once it starts to fade, you can always come back for another fill, you know.”
“Promise?” you ask, grinning ear to ear.
Toji pulls out, leaving just his tip before he slams back in, jostling you down on the sofa. His abs contract, cock throbbing at the sudden clenching of your walls around him. “Fuck, yes, doll. Promise. I fucking promise.”
His glasses have slid off, rattling somewhere on the sofa with the impact of every thrust. He doesn’t seem to care about them anymore. You’re nearing another orgasm, head whipping around at the intensity of the pressure building in your core. He’s bullying his cock relentlessly in your cunt, chasing after his own high and sending you to yours.
When your eyes clash with his piercing, green ones, unobstructed by his glasses, you explode with a scream.
“F-fuck,” he grunts, following soon after.
Searing cum spurts inside you, cock pulsing, cum painting your walls. His thumb rubs your clit, aiding you through your orgasm. Your moans are vibrating against the walls, definitely disturbing his neighbours, but so are his groans.
He slumps over, rolling the two of you on the sofa so you’re resting naked on his heated body, his heavy arm preventing you from falling off. Your pussy’s sore, a mix of your cum and his dribbling out and creating a sticky mess on your inner thighs.
Absentmindedly, as you both catch your breath, he rubs your back. You draw shapes and letters on his chest. Toji combs his hair off of his forehead, chest rising up and down with his breathing. The dirty marks you two left are still on the glass, though it’s no longer foggy.
Reaching up above him, he gracefully finds his glasses, sliding them on his face. You like him with and without them.
“So,” you begin, “about those extra marks.”
Toji lifts his glasses up to rub a hand down his face. “Jesus, yes, you’ll get the marks.”
“Thanks!” you chirp.
“God, you’re a pain in the ass.”
.
.
.
“Fuck, Toji,” you moan. “I already came three times. It’s too -hic- too much.”
Your TA ruts his cock inside you, face buried in the crook of your neck. His glasses are on your nose bridge, blurring your vision; he gets so frustrated when the thing gets in the way of kissing you or eating you out.
“Shut up,” he rasps, hand pressing down on your lower belly so you can feel him even more. “You’re the one who dragged me here. Take every orgasm I give you and be grateful.”
That’s true — you were supposed to have an office hour with him, which is really an excuse to see your boyfriend before you have to attend the internship induction session, but then you took one look at him and his amazing body and started soaking through your panties so here you two are.
Oh yes, you did say boyfriend.
After he blew your mind out, you’d been visiting his apartment after classes so often, you were practically living there, and he didn’t mind. It started out casual, but after realising you two would go grocery shopping, watch movies together, and text each other practically every day, you decided to just seal the deal and make it official.
In short, he fucks good, and he can tolerate your personality, so you two stuck together.
A month in, neither of you are really regretting it. At least, if his desperate thrusting and sloppy kisses to your neck’s anything to go by.
“Missed you so much, Toji,” you whine, hips fucking back into him.
Toji groans, hand groping your tit from under your shit. “Yeah, baby?”
“Mmm.”
“Missed you too,” he confesses, licking a stripe up your neck and scraping his teeth down. Goosebumps rise on your arms. “Been wanting to see you all morning.”
You giggle, holding onto the stall for purchase and so his thrusting won’t make you smack face first onto the door. “You’re so cute w-when you’re needy.”
“Fuck off,” he says with no real heat to his words.
In the near distance, the door to the men’s toilets opens with a dull metallic creak, the sound echoing faintly off the tiled walls. Feet pad in—slow, unhurried. The steady rhythm of someone who expects the place to be empty.
“Fushiguro?” a voice calls out. “You in here?”
The two of you go very, very still. Toji’s entire body stiffens behind you, muscles locking. His hand clamps firmly over your mouth for extra measure, warm palm pressing tight enough that you can feel the tension in his fingers.
Your heart slams against your ribs, loud enough that you’re half convinced it might echo under the stall. What the hell is the professor doing here?
“Susan told me she saw you walk in this direction. You got a minute?”
Toji releases a tense breath through his nose, annoyed at the interruption but left with no choice but to answer. He lifts you up so your feet hang over the floor and won’t be seen by the outsider. “Yeah, prof. But I’m kinda in the middle of something.”
The professor laughs. “Yes, yes, I’m sure. I do apologise for interrupting you. I was just locked out of my account and can’t send emails for the next hour. You know how terrible I am with technology.” He enters the stall next door. He unzips his pants. You cringe. “I only wanted to ask if you’re prepared to host the internship induction later.”
You go still, this time for a different reason.
Your boyfriend releases your mouth. Fingers creep over to between your legs, where you’re still connected to him, where he’s still throbbing inside you. He slowly rubs your clit, keeping you from squirming in complaint with his strong arms. Toji responds, “Yeah, got all my notes ready.”
The bastard’s trying to distract you…
“Ah good, good,” the older man joyfully responds. His stream hits the water, and you fight the urge to face palm. “I had a look over the plans and the schedule. Very well organised, I must say. The competition was fierce, which is a testament to the success of the event, so props to you.”
Do men hold conversation so casually in the toilets?
Toji carefully begins moving in slow and shallow thrusts, prodding your g-spot over and over with his fat cockhead. You bite your lips to keep from moaning. Your nails dig into his thick arm. He ignores you.
“Don’t mention it, Professor.”
The man zips himself back up and flushes, exiting the stall. Outside, the tap runs, and you’re both still as quiet as rocks, afraid that any sudden movement will out you both as sexual deviants.
He adds, “Oh, and thank you for handling the applications for me; you know I hate all that paperwork nonsense.”
Your jaw drops.
Beyond tense, Toji replies like he’s aware of the weight every word exchange carries, “I do what I can do to help out.”
“I couldn’t do what I do without you,” the professor continues, sincere and ignorant to the fact that you’re there. The rustling of paper towels echoes. “Well, I’ll see you later. Apologies again for interrupting.”
The exit door swings open and you relax, but then his voice fills the space again.
“Do say hello to your pretty, little girlfriend for me.”
Your heart?
Drops to the fucking floor.
Toji’s grip on you tightens just slightly, barely noticeable unless you’re pressed this close to him.
Your mind races. Did he see you come in? Did someone tell him? Did Susan, whoever the hell she is—
Toji speaks before you can spiral further, his tone sharper now, suspicion threading through it. “What do you mean, Professor?”
“Oh, you know, the girl you’ve been eyeing for a while now — she’s on the internship, yes?” Then he laughs the kind of laughter old men do, all paternal and wise. “Don’t worry, son, I’m not accusing you of pulling strings; I know she’s a very intelligent young woman. Ambitious too. Almost as ambitious as you. I hope you two work something out.”
Your heart slows its beating but you’re not any less tense.
Sighing, Toji responds, “I’ll let you know if we do.”
“Yes, yes,” the professor says before he leaves for good.
Finally, it’s just you two in the men’s toilets again. The silence and emptiness is maddeningly relieving. Although, you’re seething, practically vibrating with accusations and anger.
Toji lets you down. Your feet touch the ground again. You pull him out, whirling on him with a disbelieving glare. You snatch his glasses off your face with one hand and smack his chest with the other. The man doesn’t budge.
“You sneaky piece of shit!”
He gathers both of your wrists with one hand, rolling his eyes. Toji takes his glasses from you and slides it on his face. Seeing you clearer now, he guides his cock back to your pussy, re-entering with ease. You moan, allowing him to hike your leg over his hip so he can press in deeper.
Kissing your lips, he mutters against your lips, “I did what I had to to get your attention. Sue me.”
“God, you’re the worst,” you breathe out, chest jutting out to his, nipples aching and clit throbbing.
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, “I’m the big, bad wolf, and you’re creaming all over my dick right now. Let’s not act like you got the short end of the stick here.”
“Master manipulator,” you hiss, kissing him back, fingers tangling in his hair as soon he lets go of your wrists to grope your tit and ass.
“Whore,” he fires back.
Then the two of you smile, clutching each other tightly as you both rock into each other, nearing your mutual orgasm and riding the pleasure growing in your bodies. Fuck, he feels so good.
“We’re gonna be together forever and ever, aren’t we?” you ask.
