All you did was compliment his arms, that’s all you did and now 𝓖ojo has that arm around your throat while he fucks you devastatingly from behind. Back arched meanly as he bullies your cervix with his leaky tip. You can’t lie and say you’re not right where you want to be though, the pressure of his muscles head-locking you completely still is making your head all foggy.
“Happy with yourself?” he smiles, lips grazing your ear, “practically drooling while looking at me before.”
You can’t speak, not coherently. Only really gasping moans at him, trying to defend yourself. It was mostly innocent when you had said something. It’s not your fault that he looks so enticing, so what if your eyes lingered a little bit?
Teasing you when he notes, “Oh~ now you’re drooling elsewhere,” referencing your dripping cunt, snug and slick around him.
Wanting so bad to fold forwards, the mix of his harsh thrusts and taunting words so overwhelming your instinct is to run. Too bad for you, Gojo’s noticing and tightening his arm around you just that tiny bit more. The heavy weight of his strong bicep holding you and rendering you immobile is life ruining, it has you shuddering in response.
“Look at you,” he almost whines, “fucking creaming around me, you like my arms that much?”
God, he’s killing you, maybe next time you’ll think twice about complimenting him.
➷ THE FRATERNITY HAS A HIGH STAKE HIGH REWARD NO NUT NOVEMBER, FEATURING: FRAT!KUNA [FWB]
[ TAGS ] — 18+. mdni. nsfw. HURT/COMFORT. filth. ráw. fwb. scent kink. creampie. sukuna drinks your squirt ❤︎. spitting. sukuna’s a munch. dacryphilia. sukuna cums a lot. squirting. pussy spanking. fratboys are the worst. slight angst.
the boys stayed up for hours arguing. each one having a chance to speak before it turned into a big debate. luckily for them kento nanami — who is not part of the fraternity, but a dear friend to them — was also present during this discussion and acted as a moderator on the night of October 29th.
nanami deadpans as the president stands up, slamming his hand against the wall, silencing the arguing juniors.
“what i say is fucking final!” president gojo screeches.
sukuna, lounged on a chair, legs spread and arms crossed watches in disinterest. similarly, geto is leaned against the wall, rubbing his temple in frustration.
nanami decides to step in, “the whole point of this discussion is so that everyone can agree. if no one agrees with the terms of the competition, or the rewards, than they have no obligation or want, to even participate in it.” his words are put so simply, that sukuna is nodding along, followed by the rest of the juniors, except for a few who are still siding with their president.
gojo’s hands fly to his hair, groaning in disbelief. “does being president mean nothing to you guys?!”
“it’s a competition and voluntary, so calm down,” geto says.
“I am calm!” gojo snaps, arms crossing and sitting back in his chair with a grunt. he shoots his high school friend a glare, “solve it, kento.”
nanami rubs his temple in controlled irritation, how did he get mixed up in all this? but he wasn’t going to lie and say it wasn’t a little entertaining. he stands, taking his place beside the huge white board gojo was making a mess off. erasing it, and picking up the dry eraser marker. he jots down the three rewards, and the rules that were discussed in these hours.
reward:
1. party dictatorship — winner gets full control of the next three frat parties, including the Christmas party — playlist, themes, invites, booze, budget, everything — and everyone remembers what happened last time Sukuna ran one…the roof incident — so the others are desperate for sukuna NOT to win.
2. the president’s favor — frat president gojo owes the winners one favor of choice — no limits, no questions asked.
3. blackmail jar — every participant has to confess one deep secret before starting — the winners get the blackmail folder — everyone’s terrified to lose this one, especially because the winners have the chance to take their secrets out.
“all in favor of party rights?” nanami calls, the entire room raises their hands.
“president’s favor?” everyone raises their hands, with exception of gojo.
“blackmail jar?” everyone raises their hands, with the exception of gojo, and four others, sukuna included.
“and who wants all three?”
“once again, why is there three fucking rewards?? the second one isn’t even a reward if I win!” gojo shrieks again, hands pulling at his white hair.
sukuna’s jaw tightens, biting his tongue. would it look bad if he also voiced his opinion? how he agrees that maybe taking the last reward off would be best? but then it’d bring attention to the potential secret he puts in. and it doesn’t matter which one he puts in, they’re all very much blackmail worthy. and to think his juniors would see it if they won?
fuck!
“so a majority agrees on having all three as a reward, and back to the terms,” nanami scribbles another section.
terms:
1. starts nov 1 — ends nov 30th
“by november first, do we mean exactly at midnight, or like twelve PM afternoon type shit?” one junior raises. the bickering starting again.
“it’s Halloween night technically, halloweekend, like I wanna you know!”
“that’s the whole point of this dipshit!”
“we’re making up the rules!”
and the bickering continues.
nanami aggressively clears his throat, eyes piercing the boys shut. he really fits here like a glove, if only he didn’t care about how horrible they act sometimes. but nonetheless, nanami will reach bigger and better places, even though he hangs around the frat just as much as a regular member.
anyways—
nanami continues, “all in favor for a hard midnight start, raise your hands.” half the room raises it.
“all in favor for a late afternoon start, twelve PM, raise your hands,” the other half raises their hands, including sukuna, gojo, and geto — ultimately swaying the ruling just by having them all agree on this. “twelve pm start it is.”
it also came in a few of the men’s favors, considering most of them have lost in the past, because of these first hours, not realizing it was past midnight, and already having a girl in their beds.
“jerking off, yes or no?” nanami asks for another raise of hands. a couple raise their hand to allow it, but a majority rules against, and pick fun at the ones that can’t keep their hands to themselves.
nanami jots the rule down. “now, pleasuring women, pussy eating, fingering, yes or no.” another show of hands, split. a few trying against it, until—
“I’m not gonna torture her jus’ because of a fuckass game we’re playin—“ sukuna snaps, “we’re allowing it, no discussion,” his tongue’s sharp, silencing the rest of the boys. with the exception of his friends.
“what? can’t go a month without her pussy in y’r mouth?” gojo teases.
sukuna’s red iris’s cut through the shimmering blue ones, “some of us like pleasuring women.”
gojo gasps, rolling his eyes, “I pleasure plenty, fucking write my name on every pussy i eat.” gojo’s huffing, already wound up from being walked all over in his own game, “allow it. fucking watch me pleasure girls this whole month.” he grumbles, knee bouncing aggressively, “was never a problem the years before.”
“you lose every year because of it,” geto slides in, as if he’s any better.
“well the reward is different this year, so you guys have put it so beautifully for me — i’m not fucking losing just by eating pussy,” gojo locks his jaw, eyeing nanami to continue. to which he does.
“very clear and obvious rules then — with the exception of the start time —no cumming, and i guess that leaves…the punishment,” nanami writes it in caps on the board.
geto steps in, “anyone caught nutting and lying that they haven’t OR doesn’t put a real secret in the folder, will have the same consequences as the years before.”
nanami cringes, “you guys haven’t changed that rule?”
gojo shrugs, “why would we? it’s the perfect punishment. nobody likes a liar.” sukuna nods, jaw tensing, glancing at the board once more.
goddamnit, maybe he should’ve stood by the white haired idiot. especially when all the men are on opposite corners of the house, writing down their fucked up damning secrets for the black mail folder. there was too many things sukuna could be liable for. they should’ve clarified what exactly is allowed as blackmail worthy. what if it’s an actual crime? is it just a reputation ruiner?
inevitably, this leads sukuna to writing what he considers to be number five on his list of horrible secrets relevant to his fraternity life. and most importantly something he needs to rip out of the jar, with the fear of you, or any of your friends, finding out.
which leads him to holding you steady on the bed, arm hooked under your knee, lips kissing yours deeply, tongues messy and stolen gasps, as your nails dig into his forearm, squirming in his hold.
“ngh r-ryo—ahh!” your jaw is slack against his lips, eyes fluttering as he pumps two thick fingers inside your spluttering hole, quickening the pace, palm slapping your abused clit. wet squelching hitting the pads of his fingers sloshing around with every thrust.
sukuna can’t look. his face pressed away, opting to lick and suck your ear, cock straining in his sweats, “c’mon, you’re gonna cum for me? hmm? lemme see how dirty this fuckin’ pussy is—haven’t even put my dick in yet.”
you whine even louder at the mention of his cock, clenching around his fingers, back arching off the mattress, legs spreading wider, chasing his retracting fingers before he’s thrusting them back in. “r-ryo—mmf f-fu—angh—“ your vision blurs, his teeth sink into your pulse point, curling his fingers at the perfect moment, knocking you over the edge.
“there we go,” sukuna coaxes you through your blinding orgasm. legs trembling, shaking shut around his unrelenting fingers, still pumping.
you’re completely out of breath. panting against his chest, as the man pulls his fingers from your sweet cunt, mess covering his fingers as he pops them into his mouth. big mistake.
“shit,” he quickly pulls them out, cheeks flush and cock violently twitching in his pants. however, you’re already rolling over, turning so you can crawl onto his lap, hand settling on his inked chest, plump ass sitting back on his bulge. “seriously?”
you pout, fanning your face a bit, coming down from your orgasm. you rock back on his bulge, hips calculating, knowing exactly which ways to shift your weight on him—“wha—“ you gasp suddenly, his hands fly to your waist, grip bruising against your soft flesh, holding you completely still on his lap. your hands hold his forearms; brows pinched. “what’s wrong?”
your cheeks are flushed, blood still pumping under the skin, eyes glossed over from the second orgasm he pulled from you with his fingers. but of course, you always had the prize in mind.
sukuna’s jaw tenses, avoiding eye contact, as he mutters, “I…can’t.”
your lips part, closing again in confusion. you try to rock back against him again, but his strength was no joke. “what d’you mean you can’t?” you press, eyes boring into his, but his jaw clenches, opting to stare at the walls of your small room.
and it’s his obvious lack of words, and your horny mind, that ultimately piece the missing pieces together. your face twists, grip tightening on his forearm. “don’t even joke right now,” you mutter in disbelief. “you’re not doing that whole no nut november thing, right?” you already knew the answer before you even asked the question.
sukuna’s head tips back, jaw tensing as he squeezes your waist. “i didn’t have a choice.”
your brow quirks in irritation, “it’s a dumb game that nobody cares about!”
“true.”
“so just break it. who cares?” your fingers trail over the ink around his wrist, doing your best to bat your pretty lashes down at him.
any other month, sukuna would have caved, reluctantly, in seconds, especially when your lips form that a subtle pout, bottom lip gutting out, and your post orgasm tears have dried under your eyes, fuck you’re so unbelievably hot right now.
“it’s different this year,” he looks away, mind racking desperately for his self-control and the greater good, it being his whole fucking reputation. “it’s higher stakes.”
“with the frat?” you scowl.
he frowns, “yes.”
his confirmation only bites at your annoyance, tongue clicking against the roof of your mouth, head falling back. “stupid frat, stupid month—you just made me cum though,” you whine, eyes meeting his again.
“i can eat you out. i just can’t cum,” he clarifies, pushing himself up, sliding you down a bit, abs clenching when your wet folds graze over his hard on. “can make you cum all night,” he kisses the corner of your mouth. hands trailing back up, thumbs pressing against your perky nipples.
you frown, “but your dick, ryo.”
“I can’t cum.”
“just the tip?”
“no.”
your head falls again, groaning. “is that why you avoided me this whole week?” you huff.
“I had a couple essays I needed t’ finish anyways, I couldn’t lose in the first week—especially after the way we fucked halloween night,” he explains, trailing wet kisses along your neck, groping your breasts.
your nails skim his shoulder, trailing up to his nape, “but your dick is so big, ryo,” you whine lewdly, words shamelessly dripping with lust and need. “you want my tummy to be empty for a month?”
his pupils dilate, cock twitching. “don’t…” his jaw clenches, “don’t say that.”
“say what?” you frown, pushing it further, “don’t say how my pussy will get tighter everyday your dick isn’t inside? how kissing you makes me so wet. how my pussy always drips to have your big. fat. cock. stretch me open?”
“damnit!” your name tumbles out of his mouth like a curse.
“wha!” you gasp suddenly being flung off the man, bouncing on the mattress as his large form stands beside the bed, face in his palm grasping his base through his sweats, veins popping everywhere. your cheeks flush staring at the obvious tent bulging out, outlining his impressive size. just another push— “I’m so wet right now, ryo…it’s leaking.”
his eyes pierce yours, glare deathly as he swears your name under his breath like a warning. “don’t fucking talk or I’m leaving.”
you frown, pout permanent, along with your scowl, rolling your eyes as you fall back on your bed. eyes deadpan as you watch sukuna disappear to your kitchen, getting himself some ice to press on his face.
by the time he returns you’re still sprawled on your bed, but now rolled onto your side, mindlessly scrolling your phone in clear frustration. his jaw is taunt, big arms crossed, and leaning against your doorframe, your beaded curtains cascading down his sculpted back as he hears your phone play, uninterested in looking at him.
he bites down on his teeth, dragging himself to the foot of your bad, kneeling forward, hand brushing your warm thigh. “it’s just three more weeks.” he continues caressing your thigh, pushing your legs apart languidly, settling between them, kissing your inner thigh.
you pause the video, eyes flicking down to him as he sucks a dark bruise onto your skin. other hand massaging your thigh, thumb brushing your heat.
“during peak exam season…” you tsk, getting wound up again, nails running through his pink locks, tugging at the roots tilting his head to look at you.
he grunts in annoyance, eyes lidded as he glares up at you. “y’ think I don’ know that?” he spits.
you inhale sharply, arm falling over your eyes as you exhale slowly, “please stop talking.” your chest rises, controlling your own temper, “you’re just getting me more pissed off.”
his jaw locks, rolling his eyes, but then your arousal is hitting his nose, his mouth salivating as he leans further, thumbs digging into your folds, pulling your lips apart, pupils dilating at the sight of your syrupy juices creating sticky webs as he separates them.
you suck in a sharp gasp as his tongue obscenely presses against your hole, licking a long strip up to your puffy clit, sucking hard.
“shiit,” your jaw falls slack, arm falling over your head, grasping the sheets as he pushes your legs further apart, keeping them butterflied open for his messy tongue, lapping another strip up tasting your sweet essence on his tongue,
it was risky for sure. a big sixty-forty chance he’ll be oozing in his sweats after. but pre is normal, he just can’t shoot a load when he’s eating your sweet generous pussy out. which was quite difficult considering you always drip like a damn faucet on his tongue. his fingers dig into your thighs, sucking your soul out as your back arches off the mattress.
“mmph ry-ahh,” your jaw falls slack, vision blurry as he continues sucking your clit through your orgasm. your body quivers as he punches you through overstimulation, tongue relentless as he laps and laps at your precious clit, pressing his tongue over the bundle of nerves, finger ghosting your twitching hole, pushing more sticky juices out before shoving two fingers back in, curling them immediately and pistoning them. “wa-fuh-fuck—“ you cry out, squirming as he wraps his lips around the swollen bud once again. “angh!” you go nonverbal, trying to push his head away, hot tears filling your waterline as he sucks another orgasm out quickly.
his moans and grunts reverberate through your body, gasps keeping you from catching a breath, not stopping. and when he pulls to catch his breath, the tears are cascading down your cheeks, keeping his head back with weak strength when—
“ahh!” your loud cry pierces the air, body jumping at the sharp pain.
“selfish fuckin’ slut,” he lands another sharp slap on your pussy, your legs trembling trying to close. “y’ think I don’t wanna stuff this greedy pussy? make ya cream all over my cock and dump my load inside ya’ like y’deserve?”
you whine at his words, lips parting to speak, when another spank to your pussy shuts you right up, clit stinging.
“huh?” he presses degradingly, “y’ think that’s what I want?”
slap!
“ryo—“ your words break, slap! tears leak from your glossy orbs.
“fuck, you’re spilling everywhere, wanna be inside ya so fuckin’ bad,” he groans, veins straining up his forearms and biceps, flexing in control. “fucking game,” he swears, burying his face back in your heat, groaning at the sweet taste. his jaw goes slack, using every muscle in his mouth to suck your arousal, your eyes roll back, mind going foggy. it was too much, you lost count how many times he’s pushed you over the edge, your legs can’t close, your muscles weak.
“nnngh,” you’re whimpering, lips forming an o, eyes rolling back. his tongue strokes your clit greedily, abusing the poor bud until you’re seeing white, cord snapping in your tummy as a sharp splash hits the fratboy’s face.
“ah fuck yeah,” his groan echos through the room like a beast, jaw falling slack, fingers rapidly stroking your clit making that pussy spray your squirt directly into his mouth, drinking it up like an obedient dog.
you can’t even process what’s happening. body on fire and spasms pushing out of your heat. tears relentless as they cascade down your burning cheeks.
“jus’ like that, mmph fuck,” his throat bobs, ears hot and face flushed, your taste fills his tastebuds, sliding down into his tummy with each loud gulp, swallowing everything, until you’re trembling.
you’re desperate, hands pushing between his face and your overstimulated pussy, gasping for air, legs trying to close as you shake. and sukuna is momentarily lost, eyes lidded with haze, pupils blown to black, hands still firmly holding your thighs apart as he stares at your pretty fingers protecting yourself from more abuse.
slowly, your voice sinks into his ears. his eyes flickering up, breath catching as your tear stained face comes to vision, glossy lips parted as they move.
“e-enough…I-can’t,” your pretty chest is heaving, swallowing another whimper when he rubs your thighs in concentration. slowly sitting up on his knees cautiously. your eyes follow his, worrisome, as you glance at his crotch.
his jaw clenches, hesitate, but unsure, slowly pushing his waistband down enough to look inside. your lips part following his dark treasure trail to reveal his flushed cock, veins protruding painfully around the thick member, and oozing gallons.
you’re still catching your breath, gaze flickering between his cock and his strained face. jaw locked as he grips his base in control.
“d-did you cum?” you cautiously whisper.
he locks his jaw, crimson orbs meeting yours, lips twitching in mild relief and pain, shaking his head. “nah.”
you swallow thickly, moving to get a look inside his sweats, their wasn’t any of his thick white cum you knew all too well. it really was just his pre, you flush at the thought, glancing back up at his face, finally processing the mess you made. his heated gaze meets yours, conflicting thoughts swimming in his red iris’s.
“I needa shower,” he grumbles, ripping himself away from you. discarding his clothes by your hamper before walking bare to the bathroom, grip tight around his base preventing him from shooting his load.
it luckily gives you enough time to catch your breath and rip your dirty sheets off. your legs wobbly as you redo your cozy bed with clean linens, swallowing thickly as you push the image of sukuna still eating you out as you squirt, out of your mind. sukuna takes awhile in the shower, for obvious reasons, so you clean yourself up with a towel for the time being and throw on a tee for now, bending to pick up your pillows from the floor—
“really?” the low groan startles you, jumping as you turn. sukuna’s steaming from his hot shower, water still dripping down his chiseled chest, tattoos glistening. your eyes follow the droplets, his v-line cutting deep, and dark happy trail getting thicker until it disappears into the towel. “why aren’t you wearing any panties?”
“I was waiting to shower,” you sit up.
his glare cuts, hand falling on his face again, rubbing the dirty thoughts that stir back up. “go shower.”
in the time you shower, it gives sukuna the chance to breathe again. pulling a clean pair of boxers and sweats you’d borrowed from him, from your closet.
his back hits your soft mattress, arm tucked behind his head, one leg propped up as he scrolls through his phone. the group chat was blowing up, skimming through the multiple texts to get an idea of what’s happening.
“you’re not lasting the entire month,” your voice breaks in, stepping into the room with a towel wrapped around you.
sukuna scowls, glancing up to see you opening your closet, towel stopping just over mid thigh. “gojo’s out, and a three others.”
“so?” you slip a baggy tshirt on, letting the towel drop, shirt covering enough before grabbing your panties and turning to the man who’s purposely avoiding eye contact.
“so i just needa outlast ‘em. only two people lasted the other year, and one graduated and the other left the frat,” sukuna explains, glancing back at you once you slip on a flowy pair of pajama shorts. “your lucky I’m not avoiding you.”
your eyes narrow, plugging your phone into the charger before crawling over him onto the other side of the bed, falling beside him. “lucky me. no big fat dick for a month.” and it almost sounds like you’re talking at him and not his actual cock.
“ungrateful. y’ made a mess all over the bed and y’r still complaining?” he scowls.
“i am,” you sigh, snuggling close to him, cheek pressed on his pec, leg thrown over his thighs and hand comfortably settled on his chiseled tummy. “if you can’t fit in three weeks, don’t come crying to me.”
“stop talking,” he growls. arm still tucked behind his head, letting you fall asleep as he updates himself though the chat to see who else is out of the game, ignoring the multiple texts gojo is spamming about how it wasn’t fair on his part and that the guys forced him to bring the girl home!
idiot.
it was a only a miracle that sukuna was able to get through another grueling week without cumming. solely because you were both swamped with classes and him with practice too. by the time you’d come over to the frat, you were falling asleep the moment your body hit the mattress.
however, little did you know how much sukuna despised you coming over, not because of you, but because of the amount of times he’s opened his door to see a couple pledges gojo had placed guard to find out if y’all were fucking.
it was unbearable, especially when sukuna would be pleasuring you with his mouth, groaning into your pussy, and he’d hear whispers behind the door.
“more—fhu—c-close, ryo, please,” your whines were so pitched and soft, like a fucking devil angel.
and sukuna hated himself for pulling away, face covered in your syrupy juices, ignoring your pleas as he barged to his door, swinging it open (keeping you out of sight of course) and kicking one of the pledges.
“ryo!” you yell, hearing the cries behind the door. cringing when you heard a loud thump, not knowing sukuna had two boys pinned to the wall, grip tightening around their collars practically choking them.
“stay the fuck away from this floor,” he spits, eyes flaring.
“gojo sir, told us—“
sukuna was now choking them. their eyes bulging out in terror.
“ryo!” your shouts from the other side of the door wasn’t helping, instead making him even more wound up and furious, one pledge had tears in his eyes, as your voice faded into the background. he hasn’t cum in almost three full weeks, his frustrations haven’t had any release because of that either. sukuna finally lets go when both boys hit his forearms tapping out. blood pumps through his veins, muscles bulging, as his jaw clenched.
“go!” he snaps. scowling as he watches them cough and scramble away like rats.
you’re frowning when he comes back, fingers pressing to your temple. “just leave them alone.”
“i would if they fuckin’ listen,” he slams the door shut, rattling the house. his hand cups his crotch through his sweats, the outline of his cock pushing against the material.
you pout, eyeing the tent, then batting your eyes back at him. “just…” you lean up as he kneels back between your legs, head dipping down to pick up where he left off, but your fingers stop him, holding his chin, tilting his head up. eyes dilated at they meet yours. “just the tip.”
you’re impossible.
he couldn’t rip his gaze away from you, your pussy right there in front of him, dripping wet, clenching around nothing, all that’s left was for something big and girthy to stretch it open.
your thumb traces his bottom lip, scooping up the drool that collected, smearing it along his lips.
what should he do?
but the fucking blackmail…his jaw clenched, nudging your hand away, burying himself between your legs, letting his tongue do the talking, shutting you open with an annoyed moan.
unfortunately, things began to take a turn at the beginning of the final full week, day 24. sukuna had spotted you sitting on the benches near the library, sun almost fully set, bundled up in a winter coat, bottom half of your face buried under a scarf, and your eyes closed. his brows pinch, side-stepping a few students to detour to you.
his jaw tensed when you made no effort to react when he stopped in front of you. what if he was some random dude? his foot hit yours lightly, eyes meeting, but the narrowed stare you gave him wasn’t what he was expecting.
“I could’ve stolen y’r bag,” he mutters, eyeing your bag lazily resting on the bench beside you.
“steal it then,” you cut coldly.
he scowls at the attitude, brows pinched in annoyance. you blink, bored, closing your eyes again.
the passing conversations and students fade into the background. the light gust of wind ruffling his jacket, stinging his cheeks as his shoulder slumps, his backpack sliding off as he plops himself beside you. thigh to thigh, shoulder pressed close to you.
the contact doesn’t phase you, instead you both sit there silently for what feels like hours. the heat between you keeping you warm, eyes shut, and chest tight.
everything felt cold…and dark, similar to the cloudy sky.
you swallow a lump in your throat, nose frozen as you eventually…quietly, tilt your head to sukuna. face pressing into his shoulder.
sukuna glances over, brow raising, but you bury your face in his jacket, body subtly turning and wrapping your arms around his arm, hugging it close to your chest, now signaling to sukuna that something was wrong. you were trembling, and curled up beside him, and who sits outside freezing cold for someone that complains that they’re always cold?
your name slips his mouth, arm flexing in your hold, but you just exhale slowly. controlled. “give me sec.”
sukuna tries to relax. tries to keep his cool, but your grip on his arm and your shaky voice, was the least bit assuring. his chest tightens the longer you go hugging his arm. unsure what could’ve happened, but knowing he’s definitely the worst person to comfort someone.
but that doesn’t stop him from trying.
his arm gently pulls from your hold. you heartbreakingly loosen easily. but he moves it around, wrapping around your shoulder, palm cupping your head, letting you bury your face under his chin. the silence could not have spoken for itself. the trembling of your body and the whispering sniffles only served to confuse the fratboy even more.
his gut twists, fingers soothing over your head, jaw tight.
it was like that until nightfall. when you began to stir, began to mutter into his jacket, “did you finish your classes?”
he hums, cautious with his tone, “yeah.”
you shift a bit against him, hand that was previously fisting your jacket sleeve, now pressing against his abdomen as you push off. fully sitting up now, your sleeve covers your face, obviously wiping your tears. his arm had fallen to your waist, holding you, waiting…
“wanna come back with me?” your slightly red-rimmed eyes meet his, and sukuna was anything but a genius when it came to reading your mind, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that pleading look in your eyes.
the trip to your apartment was a jumbled blur, your mind disassociating, hand tucked inside his jacket pocket, letting him guide you through the train and up to your apartment. all for you to fall on the couch together, jackets on the floor, and you hugging him as you straddled his lap. your arms fully encompass his broad shoulders, face buried in the crook of his neck.
but instead of sniffles, it was wet kisses, sucking on his skin softly, enough to leave light hickeys in their path.
his throat bobs, head falling back as he holds your waist, warm palms under your sweater letting you continue. letting you find comfort in his body, your hands bunching under his shirt pulling it over his head. and his easily pulling your own shirt up in reply, tossing it on the ground, experienced fingers wrapping around your back, unclasping your bra.
your lips press against his, rougher, needier. your soft pants and desperate rocking easily making his cock stir, muscles tensing as you continue rutting yourself, dry humping.
“babe,” sukuna grits, eyes clenching at one particular hump, fingers digging into your waist, halting your movements.
you swallow thickly, eyes stinging quicker than usual, gaze burning hot as they welled up with surprise tears. “fuck,” you bite them back, head falling on his shoulder, nails digging into his bicep.
“here lemme lay down and y’ can climb up,” he suggests, chest churning when he feels the wetness that touches his skin. “you can use my mouth, whatever y’want.” his hand comes up to brush the back of your head.
“damnit!” you suddenly pull away, hand coming up to your face, palms pressing into your eyes.
sukuna tenses, jaw clenching at the outburst, concern skyrocketing at the sudden tears again. “what the fuck happened??”
his hand comes to cup your face over your hand, the other brushing your waist. you groan in frustration, hand coming to push his touch away in annoyance, the tears were falling so easily, you weren’t even sobbing. “fuck,” your brows pinch, pushing to get off him. “just wanna have sex, and you can’t even do that?”
his jaw ticks, “I told you—“
“forget the stupid game, oh my god,” your shoulders shake, inhaling sharply to hold the tears. however, sukuna is reluctant, hands holding your wrists pulling them off your face.
“you’re not crying like this because ya can’t have dick, so what happened?” he snaps, getting up in your face. you struggle in his grip, glossy orbs glaring harshly at him.
“that’s exactly why I’m crying!” you huff, struggling enough to let him loosen up in annoyance. forearms pressed to your face, breathing deeply before standing up. “leave.”
you grab your shirt from the ground, and toss his to his chest.
“are you serious?” he scowls, sitting on the edge of the couch, sharp eyes piercing yours.
“yeah,” you wipe your tears, storming off to your bedroom, beaded curtain clanking behind you. sukuna, however, is quick on your heels, palm catching your wrist pulling you back. you groan, eyes filling up again, “seriously, leave, ryomen. I don’t wanna sit on your face,” your words catch, free hand covering your face again.
the twist in his gut was sickening. something happened. he knew that for sure, but something else was making him tug you to his chest, hand cupping your face and crashing his lips to yours.
you whine. jaw easily slacking letting his tongue slip in.
his heart was racing, body heating up, and mind spinning. and the only thing screaming inside him was that he needed to pleasure you. nothing else mattered. nothing else needs to be taken to account. you needed him, whether he knew the reason or not, your deal vetoed everything else.
you want him? fuck it.
your soft needy moans easily fill the space. his hands already under your thighs lifting you up, your lips mold together, tongues twirling as he leads you to the bed. your heart was a tangled mess, brain foggy and hurting, but you pushed it all. all of it to focus on sukuna.
“ryo,” you softly moan his name like a prayer. your sweet voice triggering a reaction through his whole being. groan slipping from his throat as he kneels on the mattress, hand on your back, lowering you gently, lips never leaving yours.
his hands easily caress your body, so natural, squeezing your breast, thumb pressing against your budded nipple. “you’re so good,” he whispers softly, lips trailing to your jaw, hands undoing your jeans. “so pretty.” his rare sweet praises elected a soft smile from your lips, glossy orbs wavering before letting him continue to kiss your body.
your jeans and panties easily fall to the ground, followed by his own clothes, naked bodies coming together as he rubs his engorged weeping tip through your slick folds. flushed head circling your pretty clit.
you couldn’t stop panting, arm wrapping around his neck, while the other digs into his bicep, keeping him close until he was nudging his chubby tip against your pulsing hole. “let’s see how tight y’ got,” his jaw clenches, arm pressing into the mattress to stabilize himself, guttural groan coming out as his hips push in.
your legs lock around him, back arching at the first big stretch.
“shit,” he hisses, jaw slacking, lips hovering over yours, drool slipping out of his mouth as your tight walls clamp around his engorged tip. your nails dig deeper into his bicep, eyes rolling back, finally feeling him inside you.
your lips part, lashes fluttering up as you watch his expression twist in pleasure. he’s so pretty, you stare up in awe. your manicured fingers cup his cheeks, pulling him to your lips again, the mixed moans tangle together, tongues wet and needy as he fucks his tip inside your greedy hole. your nails comb through his pink locks.
“you really are fuckin’ tighter, woman,” he groans against your lips, muscles flexing, fisting the sheets as he pushes more of his girthy length inside feeling the gummy walls suck him deeper. “shit.”
your eyes close, feeling his cock after so long felt so good. your headache began to dissipate, brain turning to mush with every drag of his throbbing cock.
“feels good,” you sigh against his lips, holding him close as he drives his hips quicker, his groans getting louder, rumbling his entire chest every time you clench around him.
he swears under his breath, eyeing where you connect and the frothy white ring that’s settled at his base. his thighs flex, driving his hips to hit deeper, your back arching the moment he reaches your sweet spot.
“ah there! fuh—ryo,” you cry out, eyes filling with tears once again. it felt so good. he felt so good. his warm body on top of you, his touch everywhere, his lips kissing your trembling ones. you couldn’t think of anything else, but him. you don’t even realize that you’re chanting his name at this point, softly calling him over and over with each thrust.
“right here, babe,” he grunts, kissing your cheek then your jaw, muscles flexing as he feels you tremble, tears flowing softly down your cheeks. “fuck—it’s okay.”
it was unbelievably difficult for sukuna to control himself once he slipped inside you. your warmth was so familiar, and your tight pussy had him buckling the second his tip went in. but once you started clinging to him and moaning his name over and over, he knew it’d be impossible to pull out without cumming, but worst of all, is he found you so breathtakingly beautifully crying underneath him.
“harder,” you grasp his bicep, lips falling agape the second the word slips out, sukuna groans, hips moving back before slamming back in hitting your cervix.
his abs clench, sweat dripping down his forehead as he slams another sharp thrust, thighs hitting your pretty ass, then again and again, the familiar squelching and clapping fills the room. your moans get louder, tits bouncing with every thrust of his cock,
“fuck, y’wanted my dick that bad?” sukuna groans, “couldn’t last a couple more days?”
you whine, clawing his back, “no.”
he snorts, teeth sinking into your shoulder making you cry out, pussy tightening feeling the knot deep in your tummy. “you wanna cream all over this dick?” your lips part, choking on another moan, he’s so deep and his thrusts are brutal, the pain of his sharp canines marking your shoulder adding another level of pleasure that has your vision blurring once again. “m’ close—p-please ryo haah—!” you didn’t even know what you were pleading for, but sukuna continued his pace, jaw clenching as he gripped your thigh, driving his entire weight behind each thrust.
your tears burst, eyes rolling back, and back arching off the mattress, and knot snapping releasing everything.
“shiit—don’t—“ sukuna buckles over, your pussy knocking the air from his lungs, his face is flushed bright red, every muscle and vein bulging from his defined body, he can’t hold it anymore, there was no self-control when your warmly filthy walls clamped around him. “fuck!” he hisses sharply, balls tightening up, and bursting heavy milky cum into your pussy.
you whine, tongue slightly hanging, chest heaving as you feel him pump loads inside you.
his jaw is tenses, eyes clenched as he feels more cum trickle out as he pulls out, only to spill more loads onto your pretty mound and lower tummy, stroking more out of him, head tilting back, and throat bobbing. “fhuuck me,” a deep thirsty moan rumble through his chest. he pushes your knee to keep your legs open, tip pressing against your clit. “can’t stop.” he bites another pathetic noise from slipping past his lips before he pushing inside you again.
you whine, squirming on the mattress, but ultimately allowing him to use you for another orgasm. your skin’s covered in sheen layer of sweat, flushed hot by the time he’s drooling on your nipples spilling another heavy load inside your overfilled hole.
“again,” he sighs, exhausting himself, but cock still hard as he turns you to your side, hiking your leg up with his beefy arm, slotting his cock between your sensitive pussy. you squirm in his hold, whining lewdly, drool slipping past your chin. “here we go—“ sukuna’s groan rumbles through his chest as he pushes in.
the stretch shocks you, arching away from his chest on instinct, cheeks streaked with tears as he pants against your shoulder, littering the sticky skin with wet kisses. “missed this pussy hugging me,” he grunts, keeping your thigh raised in the air, hammering his cock into your sensitive hole, his other arm is wrapped under you, holding your tit, squeezing and pinching your nipple. “fuckin’ take me so fuckin’ good, brat.”
his words flow directly into your ear, his warm breath fanning against your skin making you shiver. “ryo—“ you mewl seductively, tipping your head back.
“was eating this pussy for weeks, can still taste you,” his tongue finds yours, groaning into the kiss, teeth clashing, and spit mixing. “you liked getting your hole eaten out?”
you whine louder, tongue falling out, panting with each moan.
“you missed my dick?” he pushes, each thrust mean and accurate, hitting your cervix, tummy bulging. “huh? ngh missed having this pussy stuffed?”
your vision blurs, eyes rolling back, drool sliding down your lips, letting go of any coherent thought, letting his dick dumb you down to some pathetic little cocksleeve.
“fuck, you’re gone aren’tchu?” he snorts, jaw tensing, “stupid slut,” he crashes his lips on yours, groaning deeply, abusing your submissive body until you’re quivering again, babbling stupid curses and chanting cumming cumming. “yeah, cream on my dick, cmon—“ his jaw locks, head pressing against yours as you tighten up, shaking uncontrollably, falling over the edge.
your pitched moan rings through the walls of your small bedroom, definitely disturbing your neighbor, but sukuna is too lost in chasing his on relief that his pace doesn’t change.
“gonna fuckin fill this pretty hole again, stuff every haah ngh drop inside ya so y’can feel me deep in your tummy,” he groans, breath hot and heavy against your cheek, lips wet as his face scrunches, feeling his abs flex behind you, fingers digging into your thighs.
your trembling uncontrollably, glossy eyes leaking tears as you try and catch your breath.
“ngh shit,” he rasps, voice cracking when you clamp around him, trying to twist away, but he’s holding you still. the man twice your size uses his entire body weight to slam his hot girthy cock into your weak body, knocking any real thoughts from your brain, and fully knocking him over the edge.
“fuuck!” the pathetic groan punctuates his release, swollen tip finally bursting inside you, shooting hot searing cum in your fluttering cunt.
sukuna is unable to remain still, hips driving up, pumping his cock like a fucking bull, spilling more milky cum inside his poor whiney girl. his chest is covered in a sheet layer of sweat, cheeks flushed hot, licking his bottom lip as he stares down at the cum oozing around his length spilling out of you.
your mixed pants fill the space, along with sukuna’s big hand pressing against your belly, lips decorating hot kisses along your marked shoulder again. “you feel me inside ya? all that cum I have you?”
you nod lazily, eyes heavy, but a gentle smile, a contrast to the lewd act you’d just performed. your eyes close, the heat building behind them as you gently turn your face. “ryo,” you call softy, lips curving subtly when his lips connect with your chin, humming.
your hand cups his warm cheek, thumb caressing the damp skin, guiding him to your lips again. your lips hover, basking in the intimacy as he slowly pulls out, gently putting your leg down. “thank you,” you murmur like a melody, eyes made of glass as you kiss him. tongues meeting for a slow, hot make-out.
his hand strokes your tummy and waist, hot breaths mixing as he drools and spits in your mouth. your fingers tangle in his hair, the other caressing his neck wrapping around the side lightly.
sukuna’s just as lost in your body and warmth, as you are in his. but when he’s pulling away, admiring your tired body, there’s a twist deep in his gut, knocking the air from his lungs.
your back gently rests on the soft bed, thumbs caressing and tracing his face tattoos, and he can see your mind wandering away, especially when your brows slowly begin to knit together, and you’re taking deeper breaths.
his calloused palm strokes your side, thumbing your ribs and the underside of your breasts, brows pinched in concern. the same one from earlier. your name is soft on his tongue, cautious as he grabs your attention again. his red eyes pierce yours the second they meet.
“did something—“
you cut him off before he can finish his sentence, “are you mad you lost the game?”
his jaw sets, annoyed you interrupted, but still, “not mad, it’s whatever, I’ll deal with it.” he sits up, fingers running through his locks pushing them back. your eyes follow his movements, admiring the dangerous pounds of muscles that ripple across his huge form.
“okay,” your hand finds his arm, staring up at him as you trace the veins that run up the limb. your eyes close briefly, exhaustion finally settling.
“did something happen?” he cuts your peace, selfish curiosity gnawing at him.
your eyes remain close, sighing, the events of this week, of this day, all pushing back into the forefront of your mind, but it felt just a little lighter, still riding off your multiple orgasms that have numbed your pounding brain. “just a long…bad day.”
the athletes jaw locks, eyeing you, before ultimately getting up. you hear him shuffling around your apartment, the sink turning on, then his returning footsteps. “legs,” he mutters, hand on your knee, humming in approval when you spread them open for him to clean. similar to you, sukuna’s mind wanders back to what he put in that fucking blackmail folder. the muscle in his jaw ticks, hand massaging your ankle, gaze distant. “how much do you hate the frat?”
his question doesn’t take long to sink in, your eyes find his face, gaze lidded with just the thought of the frat. “a lot.” the clip in your voice easily heard. sukuna closes your legs. “why? did something happen?”
sukuna tosses the towel, hand running through his hair again, so far five others are still holding out, including geto.
“just lie and say you’re still playing,” the air shifts, sukuna’s eyes pierce yours with anger.
“fuck no!” he barks, startling you.
“jeez, okay,” you mutter, frowning. “is it not just bragging rights?”
sukuna taps your waist, sliding you to side so he can lay beside you. his arm tucks under his head, reaching for his phone. “no, they have some shit on me they can talk about.” your brow scrunch in confusion.
“like blackmail?”
“yup,” sukuna swipes through the groupchat, tensing when he sees geto marking another completed day. “fuck.”
“is it something bad?” you ask, resting your head beside his, brushing his collarbones. sukuna exhales, closing his phone, arm draping over his eyes.
he can feel your eyes on him, making him slightly more anxious at the what would happen if you found out what he put in that folder. his heart thumps quicker, sweat building on his forehead. you wouldn’t talk to him for sure, wouldn’t want anything to do with him, even if it happened freshman year, even if he regrets years later.
what’s in that folder is a confirmation that he was the one that posted a girls nudes as revenge on the frats old anonymous, now deleted, x account. he made excuses at the time when the university filed a report against the frat, only owning up to it behind closed doors to get rid of the investigation. he cant say now that he did it because he slept with a girl for a couple weeks and found out she’d been stealing his project ideas and plagiarizing his work. he could’ve easily went to his TA or professor, but his idiot self decided to do the most fucked up thing ever instead.
he had no clue what would happen if the guys found out. a few of his seniors at the time had posted revenge porn before, it’s fucked, but if it got out, or one of your friends shoko or utahime, who hang around the guys, overheard, then it’d definitely find its way to you. and if you didn’t already hate the frat, you’d break off this deal in seconds—
“it’s fine,” you yawn, nuzzling up close to him, warmth consuming you. “thank you again,” you sigh, exhaustion calming you.
and sukuna couldn’t help the twist in his chest. the way he felt so at ease with you, how he’ll just do everything in his power to hide anything damaging from you.
which includes the last day of the challenge, and two winners were announced, a second year and a pledge. sukuna was silently caught off guard, assuming geto was also in the run, but turns out he lost a day after him. so threatening the two winners to never utter a word about his folder was light work.
nothing will reach you. ever.
more frat!kuna
a/n: i hope u guys enjoyed this sorry it took awhile!! anyways it did shift towards the middle of the fic bc ive been in my feels and listening to Sherine all week, but i hope u guys still liked it!! (divider @/saradika-graphics)
One massive arm hooked around your neck, dragging you back against his chest while he pounds into you from behind. The pressure makes your breath hitch, your moans spilling out shaky and broken as his cock splits you open, deep and merciless.
“Look at ya,” he rasps against your ear, voice dark with amusement, “strugglin’ to breathe, but still beggin’ for more.”
His bicep flexes, tightening the hold just enough to make your vision blur, and your nails claw helplessly at his forearm. He groans at the way your body squeezes around him, hips snapping harder, his free hand snaking down to rub your clit until you’re choking out a scream.
“Can’t run,” Toji growls, dragging you tighter into the lock as his thrusts grow brutal, “you’re mine right here. Every fuckin’ inch.”
“Too much,” you gasp, nails digging into his forearm, but Toji only grins, tightening the choke just enough to tilt your head back for him to lick over your jaw.
“Yeah? You can take it.”
His pace is brutal, dragging you through your orgasm and straight into another, your cries muffled against his arm as overstimulation burns through every nerve. You shake, squirming, but he has you caged—helpless, wrung out, forced to come again and again until you’re barely clinging to him.
When he finally groans and spills deep inside you, his thrusts slow but don’t stop, grinding into your oversensitive cunt while his arm softens its hold. He kisses the corner of your mouth, sweat dripping from his hairline, his grin wicked.
“See? Knew you could take it, sweetheart.”
You’re limp against him by the time his thrusts slow, your body trembling and your throat raw from the sounds he’s wrung out of you. Toji finally loosens his hold, his arm sliding from your neck to wrap snug around your waist, keeping you upright while his cock still pulses inside you.
“Shit,” he mutters, more to himself than you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your shoulder. “Made a mess of you, huh?”
You can’t even answer—just whimper softly, your cheek pressed against his forearm which makes Toji chuckle, low and pleased, pulling out. The sudden emptiness makes your thighs quake, his cum spilling down them almost instantly.
“Tch. Can’t even stand,” he says, but his tone is fond, almost mocking as he scoops you up without warning. You gasp, clinging to his neck, but he just carries you across the room like you weigh nothing.
He sets you down on the bed, spreading your legs with those big, calloused hands. His sharp eyes linger on the mess between your thighs, his grin twitching wider.
“Pretty sight,” he drawls, dragging his thumb through the slick. You flinch at the touch, your body too sensitive, but Toji only leans down, kissing your knee. “Relax. I’ll clean you up.”
It’s surprisingly gentle—the way he wipes you down, muttering something about you being “too fucked out to even move.” But the heat in his gaze doesn’t fade. By the time he’s done, his hand is splayed over your stomach, pinning you to the mattress, his grin lazy and satisfied.
“Next time,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your temple, “I won’t let you tap out so quick.”
a/n⊹. virgin choso save me virgin choso 🙏 i wanted to post this since its been sitting in the drafts for so long omg
“baby, somethin- something’s wrong wit’ me. . .”
the half-curse invokes from your bedroom, his anxious timbre making you rush hurriedly down the hall—only to find him sat on the edge of your shared bed, blushing profusely with a small throw pillow covering his crotch.
ohhh.
you and choso had been together for about 6 months now, yet the two of you never had any sexual encounters, due to the fact that you wanted him to become more adjusted to human life before trying anything. but now with this certain issue at bay, you decided it was finally time.
you took a deep breath before recollecting yourself, taking a cushiony seat next to him, and explained to your boyfriend that what he was experiencing was utterly normal and nothing to be ashamed of.
"jus' make it stop, please. ."
oh, he doesn’t have to tell you twice.
and before you know it, you’re gravitating yourself lower, closer and closer towards his obviously growing erection. even through his pajama pants you can see how big he is. and you sure as hell weren’t wrong.
your lips form a perfect ‘o’ shape once he’s completely out of his boxers. an angry red mushroomed tip that’s practically dripping already— crystalline beads of pre down to his hefty pale base thats accented with a vein or two. and to think this was here the whole time…
“i-is something wrong?” choso inquires, a hint of worry in his tone. shifting your gaze upward, you could see his averted gaze and beet red cheeks from sheer embarrassment. you giggled softly, he was so cute when he was flustered.
“nuh uh, everything’s perfect. now, im going to do something, n’ you tell me if it feels good or not. okay?”
he swallows, before nodding eagerly in agreement, still averting his eyes from your figure below. lolling your tongue out, you licked a long warm stripe from the base to that oh-so sensitive tip of his. a poorly stifled moan could be heard from above as choso’s clawing at the downed sheets behind him, instantly stiffening up from this foreign euphoria.
"f-feels s’good," and he’s gasping out between breaths, eyes fluttering shut out of pure ecstasy. you smile around his cock, lips instinctively wrap around his sensitive head— giving small kitten licks before gradually taking more of him into your mouth. choso's hips begin to jerk up involuntarily as you begin stroking him with your tongue, the heat of your mouth making him twitch inside. a delicate hand of his finds its way entangled inside of your hair, holding you in place as if he’s beginning to lose himself completely, giving in to the bliss.
choso's resounding moans become more and more frequent as you work your way down, taking more of him into your mouth with each pass. his hips beginning to thrust upwards, meeting the rhythm of your bobbing head.
he dares to open his eyes— and that was his biggest mistake.
seeing you on your knees, eyes virtually glowing with pure lust in this low lighting, gazing up at him ever so tenderly yet seductively. taking him down your throat with little to no effort, god it was enough to make him-
“sh-shiitt!” and ropes of his warm essence are rudely painting the back of your throat as he’s spasming in your mouth, cum trickling down onto your tongue when he pulls out. his breathing is still uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly as he’s trying to recover while you’re sitting pretty with a coy grin plastered on your face. “how was that, cho? did it fee—”
“w-wanna try it on you… please?”
and now the roles are reversed, your legs hooked over his shoulders as he’s kneeling infront of your bare cunny.
he leans in, warm breath tickling against your inner thighs, nervously dangling his tongue out before swiftly flicking it just on your clitoris, causing you to groan.
and that first taste has him hooked. he latches himself onto the bud of your clit, similarly to how you did moments prior. it’s barely been seconds and he’s delved nose-deep into your wetness. he wasn’t all that sure about what he was doing, but telling from the way you were so vocal, mantras of his name echoing throughout his ears, he was doing a damn good job.
there was that feeling yet again— that strain in his boxers as his crotch pooled with a familiar warmth. he looked down and sure enough, there was again a strained tent pitched in his pants.
and his body's moving faster than his mind, his hand’s already snaked down to his boxers, palming himself through the cottony fabric. muffled guttural groans evading through parted lips as he’s drinking up your candily sweet juices, all while his hand’s wrapped around his stiffened length. trying so hard to replicate the sensation of your warm, wet mouth that was just present moments ago.
hips stuttering in sync with his rhythms, as your hand is engulfed in his ravenated strands, broken cacophonous moans of his name string from your mouth as your grinding along the heat of his tongue—leaving your pussy drooling, glassy slick dripping down the man's coated chin.
"haah—ch-cho, doin' so good..." your praise only riles him up even more, his pace picking up, becoming more and more lost in a daze. tongue darting in and out of your cunt with quick precision, teasing every sensitive spot it managed to find.
you feel your stomach tightening, the creeping sensation of your climax approaching ever so hurriedly. and it hits you like a crashing wave as one final thrust from choso’s tongue puts you right over the edge, body shuddering as it washes over you.
he can’t hold back much longer either as his cock is aching. and with a few last frantic, sloppy jerks, he finally pulls away from your cunt as loads of his cum spill into his boxers.
gasping for air himself, he looks up at you through strands of his sweaty hair before proposing the question that makes even your worn-out expression morph into something much more fitting— shocked, if you will.
༯ warnings. mature content, fem!reader + toji fushiguro, unprotected sēx, piv, pwp. minors do not interact, please and thank u.
wc. 1.7k (not proofread 🥸)
toji fushiguro is a nice guy.
not in the annoying “i’m a nice guy why won’t women date me” way, but in the “i’ll fix your sink, walk your dog, and probably kill a man for you if you say please” kinda way.
the ex-assassin (and your next door neighbor) is always doing something for someone— mowing the lawn for mrs. takada across the street, teaching the neighborhood kids how to patch a flat tire like he’s not patched gunshot wounds with duct tape before. probably hand-knits blankets for stray cats behind closed doors too.
so when he sees you wrestling with a massive ikea box on your porch that you honestly never stood a chance against in the first place, he doesn’t even hesitate.
“fuck is in here, a whole corpse or somethin’?” he jokes, like he didn’t just pluck the box from your arms, like it was filled with feathers and not the broken promises of swedish furniture.
you give him an airy laugh, wiping sweat from your brow as you tell him it’s your new bed from ikea.
“ikea?” he repeats, like you just told him it really was a corpse in that god forsaken box. “yeah, nah. you’re not building that.”
you blink. “i’m not?”
“uh, did i not just say no? i’ll handle it. don’t want a pretty lil’ thing like you losing a finger over some overpriced planks and an allen wrench.”
and listen. you could’ve argued. you could’ve said you’re an independent woman, with your crappy youtube tutorials and a rusty ol’ hammer.
but instead you just say,
“. . .do you want water or beer?”
god, you swear your bedroom has never felt this small.
toji’s presence takes up space like he was built for it—one knee down, the other bent, thighs straining against those well-worn jeans like they’re one bad movement from tearing right at the seams. his tank is drenched, clinging like it’s got a personal vendetta, outlining every broad inch of him like a glove.
he’s hunched over the partially assembled bed, brows furrowed, scarred lips parted in quiet concentration like he’s studying scripture, not step six of some swedish-coded nightmare.
and it’s filthy, the way your brain strayed, drinking in the way he moved—tight, efficient, obscene without even trying.
every low grunt, every flex of his arms, every time he shifts and that heavy chain around his neck clinks against sweat-slick skin—it’s like you're watching the start of a bad porno.
your gaze drops, uninvited, right to the swell of his chest—broad and heaving—and lower, past the way his shirt clings to his dreadfully slutty waist, all the way to the waistband of his jeans.
the way they sit, low and loose, slung across those hips like temptation incarnate—
“you good over there, sweetheart?” his voice breaks through the haze, all casual and smug. “been eyein’ me reeaall hard over there.”
you choke.
“oh, uh—i was…” you mutter, blinking like an idiot, “just… making sure you’re not screwing m- it up.”
he hums, not even looking at you, allenkey twisting slow in his grip.
“mm. real thorough inspection you’re doing.”
your a/c is blasting, full arctic tundra, and yet here you are—skin flushed, thighs clenched, your mind absolutely nosediving into the filthiest trenches imaginable.
you open your mouth about to retort back, but he cuts you off with a simple, expectant:
“wrench.”
just that. hand out. palm grasping. not even looking at you.
you pass him the tool, and your fingers brush his. his hand is warm, rough - those thick, ragged fingers that have probably shot bullets into yakuza leaders skulls, probably broken bones, lingering just a beat too long.
and suddenly you’re not thinking about this stupid swedish furniture anymore.
you’re thinking about those same fingers digging into your hips.
gripping the back of your neck.
pressing into your thigh as he—
“you gonna let go, or you just like holdin’ my hand?”
you snap out of your. . trance, retracting your hand like the wrench had transformed into molten lava and burned it. “just um, didn’t wanna drop it. s-safety first, right?”
“riight, whatever helps you sleep at night.”
even though it’s your bed, he hasn’t let you touch a single piece of it.
not one panel. not one sad screw.
and it’s not like you didn’t offer to help—you did, multiple times!
yet every single time, he just waved you off like you were a gnat.
“jus’ sit n’ look pretty. this ain’t a group project,” he utters, dead serious. you open your mouth once more to argue, and all he sends you is a glare— playful, yet still warning.
and after three long, sweaty hours,
you—
no.
he is finally done.
toji leans back on his heels, wiping beads of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand “there,” he grunts, satisfied. “all done miss.”
you glance at the bed. it does look good. solid. intimidatingly so.
“looks sturdy,” you murmur, and toji hums in agreement. thick fingers drag slow over his stubbled chin as he leans back, marveling at his piece of work.“mm. might wanna test it out first, though.”
you blink. “…test it?”
he nods, rolling his shoulders, towering and terrible, that glint in his eye nothing short of criminal.
“how ‘bout i help ya out, yeah? call it uhh, ‘mandatory safety inspection’ .”
ᥫ᭡.
“ngh, to-tojiii,” you mewl, nails grasping helplessly at the cushioned mattress beneath you, your glossed dolly eyes fluttering back with each filthy fuckin’ thrust. his strokes are relentless, sharp, each one leaving a raucous snap from his toned v-line on your poor sore thighs.
for such a ‘sweet’ and ‘beloved’ guy, his dick game sure was mean as hell.
“atta girl, look at that,” he grunts, “takin’ me so fuckin’ well.”
your swollen bottom lip is caught between your teeth, an embarrassingly desperate attempt at concealing these lewd noises toji is managing to string out of your chest.
but with the way he’s fucking into you like this, those calloused, worn palms spreading the fat of your ass to give him a front-row view of how his cock is sinking in and out of you, before raising his hand to give it a nice hefty spank—
it’d be damn near impossible to not stay quiet.
your body feels so hot, practically melting as your spine arches further with each roll of his firm hips. the pads of his fingers are digging into the plush of your waist, burning against your skin like he’s trying to brand you with his hands alone.
toji sloows his pace, not enough to give you a break, but enough to make sure you feel all ten inches of him, that evilly thick stretch making your walls stutter. his chest dips down your spine, peppered stubble scratching at the nape of your neck as his full weight sinks over you.
“uh uh, shhh,” toji croons hotly, his breath warm as he leaves a wet kiss along the shell of your ear, “you hear that?”
“h-huh?” you hiccup, and he’s got you soo dumb off his dick that your surprised your still coherent.
“girl. listen.”
and you do. or try to, atleast.
your breathing slows just enough to catch it, between the wet slaps of skin and your pulse bursting in your ears—
creak… creak… creak….
“looks like she’s startin’ to talk,” he murmurs. “guess i forgot to tighten all the screws. oops.”
haha. you'd roll your eyes if they weren’t already damn near in your skull.
toji’s body shifts, swole chest hefted on your back as his beefy arms cage you in. he’s got one hand curled around your wrist, pinning it to the matress, while the other bruisingly grips your waist.
your plushed thighs quiver, ass rippling back with each fluid snap of his hips. he’s so deep, his entire length bottoming out in your sobbing cunt. landing countless blow after blow on that poor spongy spot of yours.
“f-fuuck,” it slips out breathy, caught between a gasp and a whine, your voice cracking with each draaag of his cock. “s’too much— i can’t—”
“yea you can,” toji huffs. “already are.”
creaking turns into clattering, death rattles now, and he’s still not stopping nor slowing. every hit leaves the mattress screaming, legs of the frame wobbling as it lurches underneath the weight of you both.
and your bed isn’t the only thing ready to give out eithet.
“ ‘m gonna, hnnghh— m’ gonna cumm, toj’ ” you sob, shuddering as your core tightens.
“shiit, thaaat’s it,” he pants as your pussy swallows him oh so snugly, and you can feel him start to throb inside of you. “ let ‘toj’ feel you cum ‘round his cock, baby.”
toji’s strokes sloppen, grinding now, likes he’s trying to engrave each and every inch of his cock into your unforgivingly tight cunt. your hips begin to spasm as your pretty glossed lips sputter out mindless, repetitive catches of his name.
he sends one more thrust, mean and s—
crack!
that poor lil’ ikea bed of yours sinks beneath you with a jarring snap, the headboard dipping rudely as one stubby leg snaps completely off— making you and toji slip forward with it.
you yelp, yet it slips into a broken moan as splotches of white fill your blurred vision, body jerking as your saccharine juices spill out onto him.
you let out a pouty whine, lashes fluttering as toji groans, gutturally, his posture stiffening, jaw hanging slack before you feel him begin to spill into you—sticky hazed shades of white rudely painting your insides like his own personal canvas.
the scent of sweat and sex hangs heavily in the air, the only sounds being you and toji left panting. he stills momentarily, assuring his sticky load is plunged deep enough inside of you before easing out with a sharp hiss.
“guess she, uh, failed the inspection,” clicking his tongue as he breaks the silence, acting all disappointed despite the way he’s grinning like a fucking fool— as if he didn’t just knock all you and your beds screws loose.
“you’re buying me a new bed.” you mutter, voice hoarse as your shooting him a mascara stained glare over your shoulder.
“ ya’ gonna let me break her in too?”
and it’s not like you decline— it’d be rude if you did. .
because toji fushiguro is a nice guy, after all.
@ssorenz™ do not, copy, repost or translate anywhere without my knowledge.
WHY SHOULD I BE SAD? (WHEN I COULD JUST FUCK HIS DAD!) ★
ꨄ syn. after your ex-boyfriend cheats on you, you show up at his house only to find out his bum ass isn't there. buuut his dad is, and you see the perfect opportunity to get back— its time for you to move along, goodbye!
ꨄ feat. dilf! kento nanami + fem! reader, pwp, piv, unprotected sēx, improper use of a tie, oral f! receiving), age gap, pússy whipped nanami, choking, hairpulling, voyeurism. mdni.
wc. 3.5k
you knock. three sharp, deliberate raps against the door, knuckles grazing the oak.
the porch light flickers overhead, buzzing lowly as it throws shadows across your bare legs. the hem of your pink velour shorts rides high on your thighs, paired with the matching jacket, zipped halfway down to show a sliver of the white tank top underneath.
you shift your weight to one hip, arms folded tight across your chest, blowing a lazy puff of stray hair that stuck to your glossed lips.
pathetic. you think, glancing around the quiet streets. your (ex!!) boyfriend— still living with his parents like the immature man child he is.
some things just never fucking change.
you shift, scuffing the toe of your sneaker against the welcome mat. welcome, it says in clean, cursive letters. bold of it to assume.
you’re ready to just turn your ass around, already thinking how you were too pretty to be standing on the porch like this for a man who can’t even keep his dick to himself— before the door opens with a soft, weighted click.
and instead of the boy you were verbally (and probably physically) going to skin alive, you got his father.
nanami kento.
he stands framed in the doorway, still in half his work attire. the sleeves of his white dress shirt are pulled up to his elbows, the worn fabric stretching a little too tight over the muscle of his forearms. a navy tie hangs loosely around his neck, brushing ever so slightly against the center of his barely exposed chest.
his honey blonde hair is combed back, a stray hair brushing over the rim of his glasses. he blinks at you once, slow, and you can’t help but blink right back.
he’s hot— hot in that “pays his bills on time” kind of way. in that “he’s obviously bee-keeping age” kind of way. you can clearly see where all the good genes went— definitely didn’t stick with his son.
figures.
“can i help you?” he asked, voice worn around the edges, dragging low across the quiet between you— like he’s been talking all day but you’re the first thing he’s actually looked at.
“i was, uh, looking for your son,” you shrug, voice bittersweet. “but i guess he’s out. . spreading whatever new std he picked up this week.”
nanami’s mouth twitches, not enough to be a smile—not enough to be anything actually, but you still catch it.
“he’s not home, i’m sorry.” he finally says, exhaling through his nose, the sigh barely stirring the thick air between you.
“yeah, me too.” you scoff softly, letting a dry little laugh slip free past your lips before you can stop it.
nanami sighs, glancing out at the empty, paved street, then back at you— standing there in your tiny pink jacket, breath fogging in soft little puffs in the cold, evening air.
and he knows he should shut the door.
tell you to go home, and stop bothering him with his son’s antics.
but instead, nanami looks at you one more time, and the words are already out before he can take them back.
“come inside,” he murmurs, and you blink up at him, surprised. your lashes catch in the dimmed lighting, lips parted because, not gonna lie, you really expected him to scold you for showing up on his doorstep at this hour, not invite you in.
he creaks the door wider with one hand, not moving otherwise.
an invitation, plain and simple— yours if you want it.
and you do.
because why the fuck not.
you step past the blonde man, slow enough to feel the heat of his chest. his cologne hits you next, clean with a weight of something smooth, oaky, the kind that just smells expensive.
the door clicks shut behind you, a low, weighted sound as the house hums low around you — dim lamplight blooming gold against taupe walls, books stacked in corners, the edge of a dark whiskey bottle catching the faint gleam from the kitchen counter.
“can i get you something to drink? wine?” nanami’s voice cuts into the quiet, and you flick your eyes toward him.
his hand curls casual around the fridge door, rolex crowned wrist flexing as he reaches for a bottle without even needing to look.
“what, no vodka shots?”
“i have better taste than that.”
he pours slow — the maroon liquid threading ribbons into thin crystal glasses that catches lamplight like it’s flirting. the air shifts when he crosses back to you, glass dangling easy between his fingers, the stem catching a smear of light as he offers it out.
you take a small sip, the wine breathing sweet against your tongue. it's much heavier than what you're used to, warm enough that it drips slow down the back of your throat and settles thick in your stomach.
you hum low without meaning to, the sound slipping out sticky and soft. nanami sinks next you on chocolatey leather sectional, the seat creaking quietly under the shift of his weight.
“i'm sorry, again.” he says softly, his thumb drags absent over the rim once before he speaks once more. “that boy. . . he hasn't been the same since his mother’s been gone.”
“oh.” you lower your glass, words feeling awkward and clumsy on your tongue. “i’m sorry for your, um, loss.”
and nanami chuckles— the kind you’d expect to hear floating down the halls of some members-only country club.
“she’s not dead— she left. divorced me after she decided marriage vows were more of a suggestion.” he leans back, raising the crystal up to his lips.
you laugh before you can stop yourself — the wine buzzing a little low in your veins now, loosening your mouth, making you just stupid enough to flirt with the edge of it.
“ohh,” you purr sweetly, a little slur of silk in your voice. “so you haven’t gotten laid in a while, huh?”
nanami chokes.
no, like actually chokes.
“w-what?” he croaks, brows pulling inward sharply as his glasses shift down the bridge of his nose.
“gootteeenn laaiidd,” you repeat, dragging the words slower this time.
“like, you know, having intercourse.” you wave one hand vaguely in the air, wrist limp. “fucking, if you will.”
nanami exhales sharply through his nose - you’re really starting to give him a run for his money right now. “i know what getting laid means,” he mutters, tone clipped. “m’not that old.”
a brief silence drapes itself between you— not cold, yet slightly singed around its edges, tensed. after what seemed to be the longest three seconds of his life, nanami finally speaks.
“no. i, uh. haven’t been active— sexually.”
you burst out laughing, wine nearly sloshing over the rim of your glass. “oh my god,” you wheeze, setting down your drink before it spills over. “this isn’t a doctor’s office. we’re both adults here.”
“are we really?” nanami mumbles, umber eyes skimming over your doubled-over state.
“uh, i’m twenty, mind you.”
“that’s comforting.”
you shrug, one leg curling up beneath you as you swirl whats left in your glass, the liquid painting lazy rings up the sides. your head is lighter now, the warmth of it blooming low in your stomach, buzzing under your skin.
“you don’t have to be embarrassed.” you murmur, head tilting slightly as your gaze drags across his frame. “it’s juust. . . been a while, right? doesn’t have to stay that way.”
you don’t look at him after that. not right away. just take another sip— letting the remainder of the wine coat your tongue and melt there while your words hang.
nanami doesn’t speak at first. doesn’t blink. hell, doesn’t even breathe.
but you feel it. the way the air shifts. the way his eyes remain hot on you. like he’s trying not to picture anything he shouldn’t— and failing miserably.
you’re half his age— he could be your father, for crying out loud!
“you’re drunk.”
“a little,” you admit breathily, voice slurred around the corners like the alcohol is speaking for you. “not enough to lie though.”
his jaw flexes.
visibly.
nanami’s voice drops lower, steadier.
“you’re my son’s girlfriend.”
“ex-girlfriend,” you correct him. “very important prefix.”
“semantics,” he mutters.
“legalities,” you shoot back. “pretty sure that contract expired the second he chose to be community dick.”
and nanami just huffs, closing his eyes, as if you’ll vanish if once he reopens them.
you don’t.
his jaw ticks again— slow.
“you— you shouldn’t be talking like this,” his voice rasps, eyes darkening— not dramatically, like in the movies, but in that slow, irrevocable way. “flirting. with me.”
you blink up at him, doey eyes feigning innocence with such a foxed grace. “awe, why shouldn’t i, mister nanami?”
and uh,
being slumped over his couch not even five minutes later with your legs hanging daintily over his broad ass shoulders definitely wasn’t on your list of possible outcomes.
“k-kennnn,” you whimper, hips rolling up into his face without thinking. your body moving on instinct now. “oh my god—”
his name rolls of your tongue like pure honey. your hips buck into his face, reflexive and greedy, spine arching off the couch like your entire body was trying to climb into his mouth.
“you taste,” he breathes, voice ruined, mouth glistening with the evidence, “so divine.” his lips kiss the words right into your sobbing cunt, a sticky whisper smudged against your folds.
he’s drenched in your dulcetly sweet juices — mouth and chin glazed in spit and slick. there’s drool trailing from the corner of his mouth, pooling where his lips suck around your clit. it’s loud — shamelessly wet — the kind of messiness that echoes off the walls, mingling with your gasped mewls and broken pleas for more.
you're throbbing so much it aches. your legs can’t even stay open on their own— and they don’t have to, not with the way nanami’s palms are splayed into your inner thighs, keeping them spread wiiiidee like it’s his job.
like this is what he clocked out for.
you fist a hand in his hair, yanking him closer and he moans. actually moans into your cunt.
low and guttural, breath catching sharp in his throat as he sinks deeper into you. his tongue licks a wide, deliberate stripe up your cunt, lathering his entire mouth in the wet sheen of your sweetness.
and god, he’s drunk on it.
like he’s starved, but determined to savor every lick, every suck, every trembling twitch of your hips beneath his tongue. nanami wraps one arm around your thigh, pulling you closer to the edge of the couch, and stays there — nose pressed deep in your crevices, tongue flicking in tight circles, sloppy little suctions in between.
the last time he's eaten pussy like this, was what? back in college? almost two decades ago. yet it's like fucking muscle memory for him, like he's got PTSD.
“that’s it,” he rasps, voice muffled and wrecked, “don’t run. let me taste you, baby.”
your jaw drops. nothing comes out.
because how exactly are you supposed to say even a word with his tongue dragging figure eights over your clit? with his lips sucking bruises into your inner thighs between every flick? with his hands branding their grip into you every time you squirm?
his lips latch around your clit, sucking slow, heavy pulses while the flat of his tongue rolls wide circles around the swollen bud. his head shakes side to side, desperate now, messy, loud slurps filling the room.
you gasp sharply, hips jerking, thighs trembling around his head. “kento—i’m getting clooseee.”
the heel of your foot presses down against the middle of his back, urging him closer, guiding his mouth deeper into you. he groans again, a low, hoarse sound that makes your stomach tighten.
“hah—not yet, sweetheart,” he mutters into your pussy, words muffled by the wetness slicking his lips. “wanna enjoy you a little longer.”
he coaxes softly, voice low. “h-hold out for me. can you do that, pretty girl?” and you nod frantically, even as your body is begging for release.
“atta girl.”
nanami smiles against your cunt and you can feel it—the gentle curve of his lips pressing against your slick, tickling where he’s sucking and licking you raw. his hands stroke soothing down the backs of your thighs, holding you still, thumbs drawing slow circles into your skin.
his tongue flattens again, and you could've sworn you felt him drawing a slow, dragged K against your clit.
he’s just lost in it. in you.
completely, hopelessly enthralled.
you whimper, breath catching in your throat, fat, wet, tears finally pooling at your waterline before streaking down the flushed heat of your cheeks.
“k-kentoo,” you mewl softly, voice sticky with need, breath coming out in short little pants.
“go on,” he cooed softly. “cum for me, sweetheart. wanna feel it on my tongue.”
coiled tight, ready to snap. but his hands stayed firm on your thighs, his tongue pressing a slow, deliberate stroke over your wetness.
your release hits you violently, crashing over you like a rogue wave and you nearly sob. your toes curl into the soles of your shoes, thighs clamping around his head as your hips bucked against his mouth.
your body spasms in a wild, uncontrollable rhythm, slick soaking nanami's chin, his lips, his tongue—and he just took it. drinking you down with soft, broken groans, never once letting up as he licked you through every little tremble.
“that’s it,” his breath is warm as it's breathed against your core. “good girl.”
your body was still trembling, slack with aftershock when nanami finally lifted himself from between your soaked thighs. he wiped his mouth once but it did nothing— his chin was still slick, lips swollen and glistening, the faintest tint of pink glossed from where he’d devoured you.
his hands swept possessively down your sides. palms wide, calloused fingertips dragging over the curve of your waist as he guided you forward.
you gasp softly as he flips you onto your belly, nudging your hips up. your limbs felt weightless, pliant with a deep fatigue.
your knees slide against the leather, the couch creaking beneath you as he arranged you just right—in your hands and knees, back arched, ass lifted.
the cushions dipped behind you, a subtle shifting of weight as nanami knelt up. you hear the slow, metallic “zrrpp” of his zipper lowering, noticing his belt didn’t jingle.
he’d probably already undone it while his mouth was still between your thighs.
a soft breath hisses through nanami's nose as he fists himself behind you—stroking, just once, the wet sound slick before he presses forward.
“breathe in for me,” nanami enticed, voice steady, one palm braced warm at the small of your back.
his other hand guided himself to your entrance, the tip nudging sweetly between your sobbing folds. “just a little more, sweetheart.”
he eased forward, thick inches dragging into you, stretching you inch by staggering inch.
and it ached, yet in the sweetest way—your hot, slicked walls hugging him so tight, making him curse low under his breath.
“there you go,” he murmured. “such a big girl.”
he wasn’t too long, but god, did his girth make up for it.
a thick, weighted base broad enough to stretch you wide already, the head flaring just slightly as it breached you.
by the time he bottomed out, you were trembling beneath him, hips flush, his pelvis pressing soft against the curve of your ass. stretched full. he paused, both hands gliding down to grip the lush swell of your hips.
his hips drew back, the broad head of his cock dragging slow and heavy along your sensitive walls, before rolling forward again with a deep, deliberate stroke.
“s-sooo, hngh— big,” your voice broke into a sob as your fingers curled into the cushions beneath you. your ass bounced back against his waist, cunt snug around his cock as your moans pitched higher.
the silk of his tie—still looped loose around his own throat, slid free with a soft whisper of fabric. nanami tugged it off carefully, slipping it around your throat instead. the silk hugged the delicate line of your neck as he tied it loosely, gathering the longer end in one hand.
“just so i can hold you steady, heh,” he whispered, almost like he was reassuring himself more than you.
“look at you,” nanami panted softly. “so pretty on my dick— just, hah, imagine what my son would think.”
his breathing was ragged now, heavier with each roll of his hips into yours. the tie pulled snug against your throat every time you rocked back. the next thrust was deeper this time, angling up just right as it punched a sob out of your throat.
“he didn’t know what he had,” he gritted out between strokes, the words dragging rough from somewhere deep in his chest. “i-idiot—threw away something this perfect.”
and if you didn’t know any better, it almost sounded like nanami was angry— jealous even. like the thought of you being mistreated was something he just couldn’t fathom.
his free hand dropped to your waist, steadying you as his rhythm began syncopating. the fog on his glasses was nearly opaque now, slipping low on the bridge of his nose.
and then—
your phone buzzes, followed by your tinny little singsong ringtone, the screen lighting up bright in the dim lighting of the room.
[incoming facetime: 🗑️]
you dazedly blink, barely able to register it through the heat and the fog filling your head.
“p-pick it up,” nanami murmured behind you, voice low, steady, almost too composed. you barely had the coordination, fingers fumbling for the phone. your thumb dragged across the screen, and his face filled the camera.
red. wild-eyed. breathing heavy.
“where the fuck are you? you think this is funny? i’ve been texting and calling all night—”
your face was all he could see at first. hair sticking to your damp temples. your breath shaky. eyelids heavy, barely open.
“answer me,” he barked. “are you with someone? don’t fucking lie—”
you smiled. slow. coy. “oh, i’m with. . . someone.”
“who?” he demanded, voice cracking. “tell me who it is right now, or i swear i'll be both of your asses!”
you tilt the phone. just enough.
the camera catches nanami in his perfect, damning glory— broad chest flushed with exertion, work shirt still open, tie wrapped snug around your throat. his hands heavy on your hips, muscles flexing beneath skin as he fucked into you.
your ex’s jaw dropped. “wait. is that—” his voice pitched. “is that my dad?”
you smiled wider. teeth flashing.
“what the fuck—are you out of your mind?! psycho bitch, you’re fucking insane—”
click.
call ended.
“he’s gonna lose his fucking mind,” you whispered, giggling into your own shoulder.
nanami chuckles deep and out of breath. “let him.”
you feel the way his strokes start to grow heavier, a tremble blooming deep in his thighs, hips snapping forward with less precision now.
nanami’s breath stuttered, grip flexing hard around the tie as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded to your pussy.
“i’m—ah, i’m not gonna last.” he husked, his hips jackhammering into you languidly, making you feel the full thickness of him with every stroke. your slick gushed every time he bottomed out, wet sounds shameless in the otherwise quiet room.
he was so painfully close, yet he wanted to savor this moment. wanted to have this memory seared behind his eyelids long after the night was gone.
your cries were turning breathless, slurred, the pleasure cresting sharp, almost unbearable as you felt that tightness coiling in your stomach once again. “k-kento, please—can’t—”
“don't hold back,” he husked, his breath catching in his throat. “you earned it, sweetheart. let go.”
you nodded frantically, unable to form anything coherent as your release slammed into you hard. violent. white flashes of pleasure detonating in your stomach and ripping through your body.
“fuckfuckfuckfuuck— ” your lashes batted, tiny choked whines spilling from your mouth as his cock twitched deep inside you, swelling thicker, the heavy weight of it pressing into every sensitive nerve as your walls milked him greedily.
nanami's hips faltered, pace stuttering into a sloppy rhythm as he scrambled, releasing the tie from around your throat with a quick, careful tug as he pulled out.
before you could even whine, you feel the heavy weight of his cock dragging up—resting thick and flushed against the dip of your spine.
his breath is broken into low moans, and you barely had a second before the hot, sticky ropes of his release spilled across your back, striping messy against your skin.
just in time.
nanami’s head bowed, blonde strands falling loose from where they’d slipped behind his glasses. you could feel the tremble in his thighs, rolling through his entire body as his climax overcame him.
and for a moment, all you could hear was both of your breaths—deep, messy, syncing. the air smelled like sex. musk. your juices still wet between your legs.
he lingered there for a second longer, hips pressed forward, until he finally exhaled slow.
“shit,” nanami muttered breathlessly. “did i— was that too much?”
his voice cracked gentle now, worried.
your laugh came out light, breathless, sweet—finding his worriedness nothing short of sweet. “no. not at all. felt so good.”
he hummed, quiet relief softening the crease of his brow as he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to the back of your neck.
“but i guess uh, father’s day is ruined. oops.”
@ssorenz™ do not, copy, repost or translate anywhere without my knowledge.
i absolutely ADORED ur dilf!nanami fic >_< it was so amazinggg 🥹 so.. i was wondering if u could do smth like a little pt. 2?? like e.x i didn't have much in mind except what if it became a daily thing for exes dad n reader to sneak around tgt :33 im yearning to js see more of him!! if u want details or anything pls lmk but id js love more of dad nanami ٩>ᴗ<)و
THANK UU SMSM!! im soso glad u enjoyed it, and AWHEH ur too sweett <33 i definitely will be writing a continuation of dilf! nanami very very soon due to popular demand, so worry nawt
How about a CEO reader x Gojo/ Sukuna, please? You don't have to, but I'm kinda in the mood for something like that, so I'll really appreciate it if you could! THANKS!! X3
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what you know @starampz
you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye (series)
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free throws and figure drawings @sixeyesonathiel
satoru gojo is many things—basketball star player, campus menace, objectively the best-looking guy in any room—but he is not a model. so when you, some quiet, intense art student, shove a flyer in his face and ask him to pose for a painting, his first instinct is to laugh. his second instinct is to say no.
it’s supposed to be easy money. sit still, look pretty, collect cash. but between your infuriating perfectionism, your absolute refusal to be flustered by him, and the way you stare like you’re trying to figure him out, satoru starts to suspect he’s in way over his head (22k)
coming down @writesvani
You and Gojo Satoru were once everything to each other, but now, the space between you is filled with nothing but silence and resentment. College is just a reminder of how far you’ve drifted apart, and every encounter only adds fuel to the fire.
You avoid him like the plague, but it doesn’t matter. You can still feel him in the shadows, always there, always watching, as if the past was never really gone. So what do you do? You (try to) keep your distance, pretending it’s easy to forget the history that’s weighed you down for so long.
But deep down, neither of you can let go. And as the tension between you grows, you’re forced to confront the truth: some things are never truly buried, no matter how hard you try. (series)
velvet lies @joemama-2
crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. (series)
it girl @sixxels
you were his most well kept secret, scrolling your instagram for hours on end, collecting each and every magazine that you'd ever featured in, satoru was obsessed with you, the gorgeous goddess who just so happened to go to his university. what happens when he sees you struggling to reach a book in the library and plucks up enough courage to finally go up and talk to you? how will the resident bad boy sukuna disrupt his fever dream come true? (20.1k)
it girl pt.2 @sixxels
you’re the campus icon, glamorous, untouchable, always in the spotlight. but your world tilts when you fall for satoru gojo, awkward, brilliant, weirdly hot. what starts with flirty banter spirals into unexpected intimacy, and something real. you invite him into your life, your world, even your heart. but your past isn’t finished. sukuna, your toxic, magnetic almost-ex, crashes back in with chaos and temptation. now, torn between danger and devotion, you face a choice, the storm you know or the calm you crave. (14k)
hot nerd summer @tonycries
The best way to beat your tall, nerdy, hot academic rival during finals? Fúck him! (11.2k)
the otaku is mine @blkkizzat
bunny, how on earth did you end up dating this huge otaku nerd? urgh, you actually like him and match his freak too? and he buys you what?! omg! what will your friends think?! (Series)
hotline bling @satorena
wine nights and free will? a recipe for disaster— such as matching your ex on a corny dating app and having him in your bed within that same hour. . .
megumi fushiguro
lets play ball @lokissweater
“ won’t you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor? ” (series)
not even a little @gumii-bearr
megumi fushiguro is your roommate, he's also a scary guy... a scary guy that's weak for you. (13.8k)
i'm already yours @gumii-bearr
megumi learns to be honest with you and tell you what he wants. (9.3k)
you hitting on me? @gumii-bearr
megumi doesn't like clubs, but then he sees you. (4k)
kigatsukeba @manicpixiedreamkira
suguru geto
no. one party anthem @indiewritesxoxo
your best friend has always been an asshole - whether it's in his band or in his bed. him ditching you? nothing new. but when one bedroom door closes, another one opens (series) ft. ryomen sukuna
how to baby trap marry your best friend @indiewritesxoxo
best friend or baby daddy, one thing's for sure, you're not getting rid of him!
all i need @dihydromorphinone
well - your high school teachers warned you. college sucks - it's hard, unforgiving and ruthless. and you have to pay for it. ha! but.. there is some good to it, you think, as you see your psychology professor - and damn, he's hot. as fuck.
it seems that fate had some mercy on you; your major is psychology, so you'll be spending most of your time at the university at his lectures. and he's such a fucking eye-candy. but little did you know... fate binding you two together was not an act of mercy, no - rather ruthless cruelty, because your crush on the professor seems to develop. but you can't cross that line, right? ...right? (series)
choso kamo
hey emo boy! @gojonanami
saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? (5.3k)
hey, emo boy! @shokocide
Choso doesn’t do distractions. But then you walk into his show and ruin his focus with one look. And now, he’s handing you his guitar, his heart, maybe more. And baby, you haven’t even seen what those fingers can really do.(10.5k)
nanami kento
the triwizard tournament for the beau of idiocy @mahowaga
you're supposed to be in the stands, eating snacks and talking strategy with your friends, enjoying watching the three champions battle for the triwizard cup. you're not supposed to be entangled in what seems to be your own personal (hell) triwizard tournament. (series)
why should i be sad? (when i could just fuck his dad!) @ssorenz
after your ex-boyfriend cheats on you, you show up at his house only to find out his bum ass isn't there. buuut his dad is, and you see the perfect opportunity to get back— its time for you to move along, goodbye! (3.5k)
toji fushiguro
cherry waves @strawberry-nugget
Technically this should be your fresh start. Moving to Japan as a single mom and getting a regular job, living the peaceful life you've always wanted. But trouble finds you in every corner, taking either the form of those weird monstrous things you catch in a blurry half gaze occasionally, or of that extremely hot single dad, whose son, Megumi is friends with your daughter.
༯ warnings. mature content, fem!reader + toji fushiguro, unprotected sēx, piv, pwp. minors do not interact, please and thank u.
wc. 1.7k (not proofread 🥸)
toji fushiguro is a nice guy.
not in the annoying “i’m a nice guy why won’t women date me” way, but in the “i’ll fix your sink, walk your dog, and probably kill a man for you if you say please” kinda way.
the ex-assassin (and your next door neighbor) is always doing something for someone— mowing the lawn for mrs. takada across the street, teaching the neighborhood kids how to patch a flat tire like he’s not patched gunshot wounds with duct tape before. probably hand-knits blankets for stray cats behind closed doors too.
so when he sees you wrestling with a massive ikea box on your porch that you honestly never stood a chance against in the first place, he doesn’t even hesitate.
“fuck is in here, a whole corpse or somethin’?” he jokes, like he didn’t just pluck the box from your arms, like it was filled with feathers and not the broken promises of swedish furniture.
you give him an airy laugh, wiping sweat from your brow as you tell him it’s your new bed from ikea.
“ikea?” he repeats, like you just told him it really was a corpse in that god forsaken box. “yeah, nah. you’re not building that.”
you blink. “i’m not?”
“uh, did i not just say no? i’ll handle it. don’t want a pretty lil’ thing like you losing a finger over some overpriced planks and an allen wrench.”
and listen. you could’ve argued. you could’ve said you’re an independent woman, with your crappy youtube tutorials and a rusty ol’ hammer.
but instead you just say,
“. . .do you want water or beer?”
god, you swear your bedroom has never felt this small.
toji’s presence takes up space like he was built for it—one knee down, the other bent, thighs straining against those well-worn jeans like they’re one bad movement from tearing right at the seams. his tank is drenched, clinging like it’s got a personal vendetta, outlining every broad inch of him like a glove.
he’s hunched over the partially assembled bed, brows furrowed, scarred lips parted in quiet concentration like he’s studying scripture, not step six of some swedish-coded nightmare.
and it’s filthy, the way your brain strayed, drinking in the way he moved—tight, efficient, obscene without even trying.
every low grunt, every flex of his arms, every time he shifts and that heavy chain around his neck clinks against sweat-slick skin—it’s like you're watching the start of a bad porno.
your gaze drops, uninvited, right to the swell of his chest—broad and heaving—and lower, past the way his shirt clings to his dreadfully slutty waist, all the way to the waistband of his jeans.
the way they sit, low and loose, slung across those hips like temptation incarnate—
“you good over there, sweetheart?” his voice breaks through the haze, all casual and smug. “been eyein’ me reeaall hard over there.”
you choke.
“oh, uh—i was…” you mutter, blinking like an idiot, “just… making sure you’re not screwing m- it up.”
he hums, not even looking at you, allenkey twisting slow in his grip.
“mm. real thorough inspection you’re doing.”
your a/c is blasting, full arctic tundra, and yet here you are—skin flushed, thighs clenched, your mind absolutely nosediving into the filthiest trenches imaginable.
you open your mouth about to retort back, but he cuts you off with a simple, expectant:
“wrench.”
just that. hand out. palm grasping. not even looking at you.
you pass him the tool, and your fingers brush his. his hand is warm, rough - those thick, ragged fingers that have probably shot bullets into yakuza leaders skulls, probably broken bones, lingering just a beat too long.
and suddenly you’re not thinking about this stupid swedish furniture anymore.
you’re thinking about those same fingers digging into your hips.
gripping the back of your neck.
pressing into your thigh as he—
“you gonna let go, or you just like holdin’ my hand?”
you snap out of your. . trance, retracting your hand like the wrench had transformed into molten lava and burned it. “just um, didn’t wanna drop it. s-safety first, right?”
“riight, whatever helps you sleep at night.”
even though it’s your bed, he hasn’t let you touch a single piece of it.
not one panel. not one sad screw.
and it’s not like you didn’t offer to help—you did, multiple times!
yet every single time, he just waved you off like you were a gnat.
“jus’ sit n’ look pretty. this ain’t a group project,” he utters, dead serious. you open your mouth once more to argue, and all he sends you is a glare— playful, yet still warning.
and after three long, sweaty hours,
you—
no.
he is finally done.
toji leans back on his heels, wiping beads of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand “there,” he grunts, satisfied. “all done miss.”
you glance at the bed. it does look good. solid. intimidatingly so.
“looks sturdy,” you murmur, and toji hums in agreement. thick fingers drag slow over his stubbled chin as he leans back, marveling at his piece of work.“mm. might wanna test it out first, though.”
you blink. “…test it?”
he nods, rolling his shoulders, towering and terrible, that glint in his eye nothing short of criminal.
“how ‘bout i help ya out, yeah? call it uhh, ‘mandatory safety inspection’ .”
ᥫ᭡.
“ngh, to-tojiii,” you mewl, nails grasping helplessly at the cushioned mattress beneath you, your glossed dolly eyes fluttering back with each filthy fuckin’ thrust. his strokes are relentless, sharp, each one leaving a raucous snap from his toned v-line on your poor sore thighs.
for such a ‘sweet’ and ‘beloved’ guy, his dick game sure was mean as hell.
“atta girl, look at that,” he grunts, “takin’ me so fuckin’ well.”
your swollen bottom lip is caught between your teeth, an embarrassingly desperate attempt at concealing these lewd noises toji is managing to string out of your chest.
but with the way he’s fucking into you like this, those calloused, worn palms spreading the fat of your ass to give him a front-row view of how his cock is sinking in and out of you, before raising his hand to give it a nice hefty spank—
it’d be damn near impossible to not stay quiet.
your body feels so hot, practically melting as your spine arches further with each roll of his firm hips. the pads of his fingers are digging into the plush of your waist, burning against your skin like he’s trying to brand you with his hands alone.
toji sloows his pace, not enough to give you a break, but enough to make sure you feel all ten inches of him, that evilly thick stretch making your walls stutter. his chest dips down your spine, peppered stubble scratching at the nape of your neck as his full weight sinks over you.
“uh uh, shhh,” toji croons hotly, his breath warm as he leaves a wet kiss along the shell of your ear, “you hear that?”
“h-huh?” you hiccup, and he’s got you soo dumb off his dick that your surprised your still coherent.
“girl. listen.”
and you do. or try to, atleast.
your breathing slows just enough to catch it, between the wet slaps of skin and your pulse bursting in your ears—
creak… creak… creak….
“looks like she’s startin’ to talk,” he murmurs. “guess i forgot to tighten all the screws. oops.”
haha. you'd roll your eyes if they weren’t already damn near in your skull.
toji’s body shifts, swole chest hefted on your back as his beefy arms cage you in. he’s got one hand curled around your wrist, pinning it to the matress, while the other bruisingly grips your waist.
your plushed thighs quiver, ass rippling back with each fluid snap of his hips. he’s so deep, his entire length bottoming out in your sobbing cunt. landing countless blow after blow on that poor spongy spot of yours.
“f-fuuck,” it slips out breathy, caught between a gasp and a whine, your voice cracking with each draaag of his cock. “s’too much— i can’t—”
“yea you can,” toji huffs. “already are.”
creaking turns into clattering, death rattles now, and he’s still not stopping nor slowing. every hit leaves the mattress screaming, legs of the frame wobbling as it lurches underneath the weight of you both.
and your bed isn’t the only thing ready to give out eithet.
“ ‘m gonna, hnnghh— m’ gonna cumm, toj’ ” you sob, shuddering as your core tightens.
“shiit, thaaat’s it,” he pants as your pussy swallows him oh so snugly, and you can feel him start to throb inside of you. “ let ‘toj’ feel you cum ‘round his cock, baby.”
toji’s strokes sloppen, grinding now, likes he’s trying to engrave each and every inch of his cock into your unforgivingly tight cunt. your hips begin to spasm as your pretty glossed lips sputter out mindless, repetitive catches of his name.
he sends one more thrust, mean and s—
crack!
that poor lil’ ikea bed of yours sinks beneath you with a jarring snap, the headboard dipping rudely as one stubby leg snaps completely off— making you and toji slip forward with it.
you yelp, yet it slips into a broken moan as splotches of white fill your blurred vision, body jerking as your saccharine juices spill out onto him.
you let out a pouty whine, lashes fluttering as toji groans, gutturally, his posture stiffening, jaw hanging slack before you feel him begin to spill into you—sticky hazed shades of white rudely painting your insides like his own personal canvas.
the scent of sweat and sex hangs heavily in the air, the only sounds being you and toji left panting. he stills momentarily, assuring his sticky load is plunged deep enough inside of you before easing out with a sharp hiss.
“guess she, uh, failed the inspection,” clicking his tongue as he breaks the silence, acting all disappointed despite the way he’s grinning like a fucking fool— as if he didn’t just knock all you and your beds screws loose.
“you’re buying me a new bed.” you mutter, voice hoarse as your shooting him a mascara stained glare over your shoulder.
“ ya’ gonna let me break her in too?”
and it’s not like you decline— it’d be rude if you did. .
because toji fushiguro is a nice guy, after all.
@ssorenz™ do not, copy, repost or translate anywhere without my knowledge.
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