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Lawyer!Sukuna Headcanons

cw: fem!reader, he’s a little shit but that’s expected, workplace romance(?), backshots <3

Lawyer!Sukuna whose complicated coffee order appeases the sick side of himself that enjoys making everyone's day a little harder than it should be. There’s at least 3 shots of espresso in there and he has it with a warm, buttery croissant and 50 mg of adderall each morning.

Lawyer!Sukuna who doesn’t have many morals when it comes to his job. His entire motto is “just because you did it, doesn’t mean you’re guilty”. He defends clients he shouldn't have taken to begin with and wins millions when he shouldn't have even won in the first place.

Lawyer!Sukuna who, in the early days of his career, was forced to take an empathy workshop. There was no doubt he was talented, he had a knack for overwhelming those he questioned so much that they just looked guilty from how he had them stuttering and tumbling over their words, a lot of time second guessing themselves from the way he’d straight up gaslight them. But his boss drew the line when he told a plaintiff "the more you cry, the longer this'll take" before cackling in the middle of cross examination.

Not that it helped, but he brought the firm enough money to make them turn a blind eye to the fact that one of their associates may or may not be a sociopath.

Lawyer!Sukuna who, when he first met you, didn’t even look at you, let alone bother to remember your name. Not like there was a point, associates and paralegals came and went. He did not a give a single fuck about you, that is until the first time he reviewed a letter you drafted. Usually he had to rewrite them himself— make them sound a little sharper, more straight to the point, more... threatening. But yours? That was the first time he had the chance to actually sit back and read instead of actively trying to look for what was wrong. Hell, it even got a couple laughs out of him.

He didn't just tolerate you after that, he enjoyed working with you. You were more than competent enough to do your job, and that ended up giving him a sense of relief while doing his own job since he knew he didn't have to babysit you.

Lawyer!Sukuna who soon started to keep you within arms reach, going as far as insisting that you start coming to court with him, saying, "it's not like you have anything better to do." He also started offering to drive instead of taking separate cars. You'd decline here and there, but would ultimately give in after being shot an offended glare and being accused of thinking he was a bad driver.

It was awkward at first, his silence was loud. If only you knew how much he enjoyed it, the way you tried to fill that silence even though it was clear how nervous you were from truly being alone with him. It got better over time though. The silence still barely gets filled, but it became the much needed moments of clarity you both needed before the chaos hit— the chaos being Sukuna attacking others for 8 hours straight.

Lawyer!Sukuna who knew he liked you a little more than he should after a couple months— he looked forward to starting off his days in a calm car ride to the courthouse with you. Had he been a better man, he would've cut back on the time he didn't have to spend with you, but he was too used to how soft you spoke to him in the moments leading up to a trial, and the little things you'd do like adjusting his tie at the very last minute. You cared about him and he didn’t need it, but it was nice to have for once.

You two have even ended some days at some beat up, hole in the wall diner. Some nights you two would continue talking about the case, while some were spent talking about your own lives while sharing a large plate of under salted fries— too interested to learn more about you that complaining to the waitress about the food never crossed his mind. You ignored how comfortable you two had gotten with each other, just like how you'd ignore the way he'd look at you longer than he should.

Or the way he'd wipe some sauce off of the corner of your mouth with a napkin.

Or how he started placing his hand on the small of your back whenever he led you in or out of a room.

Lawyer!Sukuna who got a little too touchy with you one night while celebrating yet another win. It was late into the night, the office was empty and a second bottle of champagne had already been popped opened. A hand on your knee turned into him dragging you on to his lap, tipsy and murmuring all the nasty shit he's always wanted to do to you in between all the kisses he left all over your neck and chest.

None of it surprised you, you knew who he was. His shamelessness continued into the way he had you pressed up against his chest, feeling your heart beating impossibly fast as he grabbed on to your hips and slowly grinded you down on his length.

You all but let out a soft, breathy moan when he first did it and you could feel his grin widening against your neck.

He doesn't stop when he asks in a raspy tone, "feels good, huh?" All he got was a nod, but that was enough for him to keep going— crashing his lips into yours as he continued to grind up into you, harder. You could feel how thick he was through his slacks and could only imagine how fucking big he actually was underneath everything— leaving you wondering what you've gotten yourself into.

"You gonna let more do more to you?" he murmurs in that low tone of his, asking for once in his life rather than just taking. And he had you so dazed in the moment that you did let him do more. You wanted him to do more.

Before you know it your skirts bunched up and your panties are moved to the side, he has you leaning against his desk while he slowly runs his tip through your folds, your breath catches every time he rubs it against your clit. The whole time he's in your ear, taunting you for wet you are, then telling you how he was going to take such good care of you.

Yet nothing could prepare you for when he slowly pushed in and bottomed out, not bothering to pull back once. The last couple inches pull a sharp gasp out of you and all he does is continue to taunt you by letting out a pleased hum from the way you struggled to take it.

His hands were back on your hips before you got the chance to collect yourself and slowly started thrusting, pulling you back to meet every single one, helping you take every single inch he gave you.

Lawyer!Sukuna who tries to be gentle at first and talks you through it while you adjust to his length, but the sweet little sounds that came out of you slowly chipped away at his patience.

The sight of his office is obscene. His desk is completely cleared, all the papers that were on it are now all over the floor. One hands pressing your back down into an arch and the other has your hair wrapped around it as he mercilessly drove his cock into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You don’t know how long it’s been since he started to actually fuck you and you continue to lose more track of time every time he makes you cum around his cock, hard.

It’s filthy. He’s filthy. The sounds of harsh slaps and wet squelches fill every single inch of his damn office and you’re just thankful no one’s around to hear all of the degrading shit he says to you.

And that you’re enjoying it— up until the very end when he starts filling you up with so much cum that it starts to spill out well before he fully finishes.

By the end of it, you’re utterly spent. Both of you are, actually. You’re still trying to catch your breath when he pulls your skirt back down and pulls you back into his lap once more.

Except this time it’s less horny and more—

“What the fuck just happened?”

notes: dropping a 1 am post bc i refused to go to bed until i finished this

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˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

𝗿𝘆𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝘅 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗿!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀, 𝗠𝗗𝗡𝗜. fem!reader, stripper!reader, true form sukuna, double penetration, size kink, hate sex, rough sex, stomach mouth, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, overstimulation, degradation, hair pulling, manhandling, creampie, tiny breeding kink if you squint, multiple orgasms, rough dom sukuna

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.6k | masterlist | ageless blogs do not interact or you will be blocked!

The room is drenched in red, the kind of light that makes sweat look like rubies, makes skin gleam too raw to ignore. The pole is slick under your palm, warm where you’ve spun around it too many times tonight. Music thumps in the background, low bass that rattles the floorboards, but you only hear your own breath in your ears because he’s here.

Sukuna. Sprawled across the velvet couch like a king who knows no one would dare tell him no.

His robe hangs loose, inked chest marked with jagged black lines that crawl over his skin. Four arms draped out, lazy but tense, like he could tear the room in half without lifting more than a finger. Four eyes on you, burning, hungry, and you can feel them even when you turn away, tracing the sweat on your thighs, the arch of your back as you slide down the pole.

You hate that he always picks you. Out of everyone, it’s always you he wants sitting in this red glow, bending to the music while his cocks strain against silk. Rumours crawl through the club like roaches, that he’s killed women before when they weren’t “good enough,” and when his eyes catch yours, you almost believe them.

It’s what keeps your body moving.

You catch the pole with one hand, arching your back and letting your hips roll like it’s second nature, heels clicking sharp when you step out, then drag back in.

You sink, take it down to the floor with your ass arched, letting your skirt sliding up to show him the curve of it. You drag a palm up your ribs, over your collarbone, tipping your head back to expose your throat, before wrapping around the pole and spinning into a dip.

The ends of your hair brush the floor in a lazy flick, then you rise, chest out.

But all of it feels mechanical tonight, like muscle memory. Your breathing comes in and out too fast. You’re too aware of him, the size of him, the way he fills the couch like furniture made for him alone.

When you finally risk looking, he tilts his head, chin down, and crooks two fingers. A silent command. Your throat tightens. Every instinct screams not to, but your legs still carry you forward, slow steps across the carpet until his knees are on either side of your path.

He spreads wider, robe falling open just enough that you see the pale line of his stomach, his lips pulling into a smile like it knows something you don’t.

You freeze. Just for a breath. Then you climb into his lap.

The silk of his robe is hot against your palms as you press down, trying to keep balance on his lap. It’s ridiculous, the way he sits so still, like the couch itself belongs to him, like the whole room does. And maybe it does, because your body doesn’t feel like it belongs to you anymore.

Two of his hands stay loose on the armrest, claws drumming lazy little patterns into velvet. The other two are on you. One hooked hard around the arch of your spine, the other gripping your jaw, thumb pressing into the dip your chin until your teeth clench.

“Open it.” His voice is low, vibrating through his chest where you’re straddling him, and you already know he doesn’t mean your mouth.

You hesitate for half a second. Stupid mistake. His claws dig in lightly, a silent threat. So you drag your hands down his chest, fingers catching on the knot of his robe, and tug, pushing the silk apart in slow motion.

No clothing beneath. Just skin. Pale and cut with muscle, black tattoos curling around his ribs, spiralling over each broad plane, carved into him. And there, leering at you, the mouth on his stomach splits into a grin. Too wide, too sharp, saliva already slicking its teeth like it’s been waiting.

The stomach mouth snaps at the air once, playful, but your heart lurches, flinching as your pulse bangs in your ears. Sukuna finds it hilarious. Of course he does. He laughs, both him and his stomach, cackling while you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from snapping.

Selfish, smug bastard.

Your thighs burn from straddling him, stretched too wide across his lap. You can feel both of them beneath, two thick, rigid lengths pressing up under the silk, side by side, pulsing, waiting for your next move. You can’t help but shift against them, the friction sharp through your panties.

Sukuna’s eyes lock onto you, drinking in every flicker of fear, every stiff roll of your hips over the hard bulges pressing up from beneath the robe. He likes when you squirm. Your body betrays you, wet enough you can hear it when you drag forward and back, soaking through, smearing it across him.

He knows you hate it. That you’re burning with hate, but your pussy’s drooling all over him. Can’t hide that now, can you? A smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth, watching the fire in your glare

You bite your lip, teeth almost breaking skin, because god, it’s too much. His nails gouge deeper at your hips, dragging you harder over him, making the friction brutal, perfect. You want to snarl, to spit at him, instead, what slips out is a hissed, breathless–

“I h-hate y-you–”

The words burn on your tongue like acid, but it makes him groan. Head tipping back, throat rumbling, his hips jerk up into you once, sharp enough to make you gasp.

“You hate me?” His laugh is broken but delighted. “Then hate me while I make you cum.”

Before you can think of anything to say, his hand leaves your hip. Two claws hook under the band of your panties and rip them clean away. Cold air hits you, then two of his thick fingers shove inside, knuckles stretching you wide in one brutal thrust.

Your back arches, mouth falling open on a cry you can’t catch.

His palm smacks against you each time he plunges back in, wet squelches echoing in the low bass of the room. Your thighs tremble, your chest heaves, and you’re trying to breathe but his grip on your jaw makes it useless, every exhale is just a broken moan.

The stomach mouth opens suddenly, tongue coming out to lick at the damp spot between your thighs. A long, wet drag across your clit, tongue rough and hot, like a starving animal.

“Ahh– f-fuck–” You gasp, choke, nails digging into his chest.

Sukuna hums deep, pleased, watching you jolt like a puppet in his hands. His tongue slurps, lips wrapping tight, suckling down hard while his fingers piston into you. Pathetic little thing. Spitting venom one second, drooling all over his hand the next.

You try to hold it back. Bite your lip hard enough to taste iron, dig your nails into his skin, anything to stop your body from giving him what he wants. He’s too big, too solid, his muscles flexing under your grip like brick.

The stomach mouth groans like it’s savouring you, tongue flattening against your clit and then flicking, fast and messy, grinding over your clit like it’s starving, and you can’t–

“Ahh– ah, f-fuck– wait–” Your voice cracks, spilling out high-pitched and broken as your thighs try to snap shut on instinct.

You shouldn’t have done that.

His two upper arms catch your knees, wrenching them open until you’re spread so wide it hurts, until you’re pinned over him like prey on display. His cocks are peeking out from under the robes now, thick and glistening against his stomach, twitching with every sound you make.

“Squirm all you want.” He snarls, drool wetting his fangs as his eyes burn into the slick mess between your legs. “You’re not going anywhere.”

You thrash against his grip, half-panicked, half-dizzy from the way it feels, his claws bruising your thighs, fingers battering into your cunt, the mouth sucking you so hard you see white behind your eyes.

“S-Sukuna please–! I c-can’t–” You’re babbling, slurred, saliva slipping down your chin, but the words barely form around your moans. “Ahh– s’t-too– ahhhnn, too much–”

A laugh vibrates from his chest under your palms. “Too much? Then cum, little slut. Let me see you gush.”

Your hips buck wildly against his hand, trying to escape, trying to get more, but he holds you there like a doll. The mouth on his stomach moans around your clit, tongue lashing, and then–

Your whole body seizes, pussy clamping around his fingers, slick shooting out in hot spurts. You scream, eyes rolling to the back of your head, nails dragging down his inked skin. Squirt splashes over his wrist, his thighs, dripping down onto his stomach mouth.

It gulps it down, tongue lapping at everything you give like it’s never tasted anything sweeter.

“Fucking look at you.” Sukuna groans, his free hand jerking his cocks in slow, heavy strokes while the other two keep your trembling legs spread open. “Squirting all over me ‘cause it feels that good.”

Your face burns, shame scorching through the haze of pleasure, but you can’t stop shaking, can’t stop the way more slick runs down his wrist, your thighs slick and sticky.

“D-disgusting.” You pant, choking on the word, eyes glassy.

His laugh tears out of him, cruel and hungry, as his claws finally let go of your thighs just to flip you over like you weigh nothing. Your cheek slams against the couch, your ass dragged up, knees spread againsts on the cushions.

“You’re right.” He growls, parting his robe the rest of the way, both cocks heavy and wet, leaking against your swollen slit. “Filthy fucking slut.”

One hand clamps the back of your neck, shoving your face into velvet, while another pries your ass open, claws dimpling the meat of your cheeks. The last two fist around his lengths, smearing them through your slick folds until you’re shaking again, begging please please please under your breath even if the words make no sense.

Then he rams forward.

The stretch is unbearable. Both of his cocks slam in to the hilt, your walls screaming around the intrusion, stuffed so full you can’t even breathe. Your fingers claw at the couch cushion, velvet bunching under your nails as your body convulses, tears already stinging hot in your eyes.

“Too– too big– ahhh!” The words rip out of you, more a sob than anything, drool slipping from your open mouth. “S-suku, it’s– can’t–”

“Shut up.” His palm crushes down on the back of your skull, forcing your face into velvet until you can barely gasp air, until every ragged moan is muffled against the couch. “You take it. You always fucking take it.”

And he moves.

The first thrust is devastating, ripping a scream from your throat even through the fabric you’re buried in. Both cocks drag out heavy, stretch burning, then slam back in at once, your ass jiggling, tits flattening against the couch as your whole body lurches forward. Slick splatters down your thighs, the sound wet and obscene with every brutal pump.

“Fuuuuck.” Sukuna moans darkly, hips snapping into you like he’s trying to break you in half. So tight, always so tight. His little whore’s pussy was made for this.

You’re shaking, spasming, eyes rolling back as tears streak down your cheeks. Your mouth won’t close, moans spilling nonstop. “S-so rough– ahh– ahhh– Suku–”

One clawed hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back until your throat arches, the couch-stained air burning your lungs. Another claws around your hip, dragging you back into him so hard your spine bows. The last two hands grip your ass and waist, possessive, bruising, like he’s staking a claim into your flesh.

Every slam jolts you, makes your tits rub against the couch, nipples aching. The drag of his cocks splits you, fills you, your belly stretched taut from the sheer size of him.

“L-l-let me–” you choke, voice broken, but the words die in a scream when he hammers you faster, harder, the couch creaking under both your bodies.

“Begging?” His laugh is rough, cruel, teeth bared as his breath fans hot against your neck. “Don’t lie. You love this. Pussy swallowing me whole, fuck– look at you dripping all over the my dicks.”

You sob, spit hanging from your lips, because he’s right, your body is clenching, soaking, no matter how much your mind rails against it. Each thrust makes your vision spark, your cunt tightening until you can’t think.

One hand snakes down, claws circling your clit, rubbing mercilessly on the swollen little even as both cocks pummel you raw.

“NO– ahhh, fuckkk–!” Your voice cracks, too high and hoarse, stuttering on every word. “I c-can’t– Sukuna– please– ahhh–”

“Cum for me.” He snarls breathlessly, all four arms pinning you down, fucking into you so deep you swear you’ll split apart. “Cum all over me, you filthy slut.”

Your body betrays you.

The orgasm hits like lightning, tearing through every muscle until you’re convulsing, spasming under him. Your vision bursts into stars, your scream ragged, cunt milking him so hard you gush again, soaking the couch beneath you.

Sukuna groans, all four eyes rolling back, his thrusts rougher, desperate now. His stomach mouth laughs against your spine, then moans with him as his pace breaks, hips slamming one final time before he unloads into you.

Hot. Endless ropes of hot cum flood your cunt, so much you can feel it spilling out with both cocks plugging you full. Your stomach aches with the heat, your body twitching under his grip as he growls through clenched teeth.

“Fuckkk– look at you. Stuffed full of my seed. Exactly where you belong.”

You whimper, every nerve fried, cheek stuck damp to the velvet cushion, too sore to move.

Finally, he groans low in his chest and drags out of you. Both cocks slide free in one slow, obscene pull, leaving you gaping, slick and cum spilling everywhere. You collapse forward, trembling.

“Pathetic little brat.” He mutters, but his arms are already moving, scooping under your knees and shoulders, lifting you as if you weigh nothing.

Four arms wrap you in and cradle you against his massive chest as if you’re breakable. The shift makes your head loll against him, weak, a little sniffle slipping out before you can stop it.

He sinks back onto the couch, sprawling again, but this time with you tucked tight in his lap. One hand strokes back damp hair sticking to your forehead, almost tender, brushing strands from your mouth, smoothing sweat from your skin. Another thumb drags across your cheek, smearing away the tears.

You’re too exhausted to fight it. Too wrung out to glare at him the way you want to. Your breaths come shallow, hiccupping, eyes half-closed as you sag against the warmth of him.

His robe, still hanging loose from where it was pried open, is tugged around you now. Heavy silk covers your bare shoulders, his arm drawing it snug, wrapping you in the same fabric that hides him. It smells like him, smoke, iron, something sharp that makes your throat tighten.

“You’re done.” Sukuna mumbles into your hairline, voice low but not cruel this time. His lips curl faint, not exaclty a smirk, just something softer. “Take the week off. Don’t worry about your boss. I’ll have a word with him.”

Your eyes flutter, heavy with exhaustion.

His fingers thread once more through your hair, massaging it back.

“Rest.” He mutters, almost bored, but his hold on you is too gentle. “You’ll need it for next time.”

Your stomach knots at that promise, dread and heat tangled together, but you’re too far gone to respond. Your eyes slide shut, chest rising and falling in shaky little breaths as the red light hums around you.

Sukuna’s body stays relaxed, all four eyes drinking in the sight of his little angry mess nestled in his arms. When you wake, he’ll be gone. But his promise won’t.

taglist: @satorupi, @cupidstrace, @sweethearticism

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Your pervy fwb!Suguru is the kinda guy who sits there on the phone with his cock all hard and aching, listening to you ramble about God knows what because he hasn't been paying attention to shit aside from that gorgeous tone of your voice for the past thirty minutes straight.

With mumbles of, "Uhuh," and, "Mhmm," after just about everything you say as he stares down at his sprawled out legs, he's left watching himself twitch against his thigh all eagerly--just begging for some sort of attention.

And of course it gets worse when you let out this sigh and ask him, "Suguru, are you okay? You're so quiet tonight." in that sweet ass tone of yours, as if you were completely unaware of what exactly it did to him (you were).

Suguru would let a hum simper deep within his throat while his hand slides down and he adjusts himself against the fabric of his sweats. "I'm fine, gorgeous. Keep talkin'." He'd reply all huskily.

You're too caught up in your little story to notice the lowered pitch in his voice so, naturally, you end up carrying on with the rather one-sided conversation. Suguru, who's going insane on his end of the line, just can't help but at least let his palm run over the outline of his thick needy cock.

It's just something to keep him tame for now, of course, nothing more nor less. That is, until you decide to video call him.

He almost groaned at the notification alone. Your voice was working wonders for him already and now you had the audacity to pair it with the sight of your overly tempting face?

It doesn't take him more than a few second to answer that call of yours, watching as you prop your phone up and move around your bedroom to show him something. His room is dark and he briefly explains to you how he's too lazy to prop his phone up as well.

Which is how you ended up showing him various of pieces of clothing you'd purchased today, speaking to an overall black screen and only earning very short and almost suspicious comments in response from the male on the other end.

"Oh and I really like this top, see?" You ramble on, holding the item up closer to the phone and hearing the way Suguru lets out a long sigh. You start to catch on there but you're more suspicious then you are sure of what he's doing.

If not for the way he cleared his throat and said, "Put it on 'n show me," you probably would've began questioning him again.

With a soft hum, you turn around and strip yourself of your current top, tossing it elsewhere as you prep your new shirt for your body. Unbeknownst to you, Suguru's on his end losing his mind.

That natural curve in your spine, the very simple sight of your bra from the back--all things he's seen before, yes, but the sight never fails to turn him all the way on. His hips are lifting into the curve of his palm before he even realizes it and he's starting to fully rub against his erection now.

By the time you get your new shirt on and turn back around to face him and show him, his eyes are rolling back a bit and a soft curse is hissing out of his throat at the sight. Luckily enough for him, the phone doesn't pick it up.

"See? Isn't it cute?" You ask sweetly, causing the twitching head of his cock to drip all ludicrously against the fabric of his boxers. He almost has to shove his fist into his mouth to stop himself from groaning again.

Clearing his throat again, "Mm.. mhm, yeah." He huffs out all too breathily. Suguru swallows thickly again and he's really a few seconds away from tugging his cock out and jerking off right then and there but, he doesn't want to be rude (yet). "Would' look cuter on my bedroom floor right now but, I digress."

You could feel heat creeping up to the surfaces of your skin and your eyes wander to the side all shyly before you lean toward the phone, unintentionally giving him a gorgeous view of the way that top frames your tits. "If you want me to come over, just say that." You chuckle, biting back a bashful grin.

Suguru lets his head lull back and then a sly smile spreads out across his lips, "I can't wait that long."

"I knew it," You're scoffing almost instantly. You had a feeling he'd been turned on from the moment he got on the initial call with you but now it was more apparent than ever. Picking the phone, "So what do you want me to do then?"

"Just..." He trails off for a second to bite his bottom lip, having released his fully hard cock from the confines of his sweats and grown surprised at how much of a mess he's made of himself already. "Hah, just keep talkin'." Suguru requests all heavily.

You pause for a moment just to drive him all the more insane and then with a click of your tongue, you prop your phone back up and shrug, "Only if you show me-"

You barely get to finish the rest of that statement before he's turning up the brightness on his phone and propping the device up perfectly, using your room lighting to illuminate his widely spread legs and fat cock resting against his abdomen now.

Your voice gets caught in your throat and you almost choke at the sight. "W-Well shit, someone's eager." You murmur, trying to play off your increasing embarrassment. Had your rambling really gotten him that hard? You hadn't even said anything remotely worth growing aroused, in your opinion anyway.

Suguru parts his legs a little wider and you watch his thick fingers wrap the drooling slit of his tip before spreading the mess of precum all down his veiny shaft and letting out a pretty groan of relief under his breath. "All 'cause of you, yeah," He says softly.

To which you roll your eyes, "Oh please, you're just a perv."

"Am I?" Suguru replies, squeezing his hand around his cock before giving himself slow upward tugs with a little roll of his wrist. You could just barely see the way he was smirking and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes again.

"I'd say yes but, I think you'd like that too much, Sugu." You hum instead, tilting your head as all thoughts of your previous haul go flying out the window. Who could think about clothes when they had the prettiest cock displayed to them in such a slutty fashion?

Suguru chuckles, "You've got me all figured out, huh?"

His hand tightens around his shaft, thumb flicking against that one sensitive vein he knows you've got memorized in that filthy head of yours--mimicking the way you typically handle his cock to get him off properly.

Still watching him with unmoving eyes, "I think so, yeah." You say in an all too soft voice. He could tell he was starting to affect you now, even with your bottom half out of view, Suguru would bet everything that your thighs were all tightly clenched together.

"Yeahh?" He purrs out in response, cocking his head to the side as his hand picks up the pace just a bit, "Well, I think I've.. shit, I've got you figured out too."

"Bullshit." You breathe out all too quickly.

Yeah, you weren't fooling anyone, especially not him.

Smiling now, "Really? So, you're not enjoying this?" Suguru begins to tease, removing his hand from himself and letting his dick twitch in the air for a moment. He was torturing himself on purpose, just for the sake of your entertainment.

You watch greedily as more slick oozes out of his bobbing tip, saliva unknowingly welling up against the caverns of your mouth. It's slow but, eventually you remember to respond to him, "I.. I didn't say that."

"You didn't say you were either," He points out, lifting his hips a little just so you could watch the way his cock sways all heavily in the air--throbbing and desperate for some more attention.

Your thighs do, in fact, draw closer together and you even end up picking up your phone and moving over to lay on your bed. "And I'm not going to," You tell him.

Suguru groans and quickly brings his hand back to his wet dick, giving himself barely enough stimulation at each syllable that exits those saliva-slicked lips of yours. "You should, it'd help me cum faster," He argues hoarsely.

You roll your eyes and almost deadpan into the camera, "You're gonna cum quick no matter what I do."

It's then that Suguru starts laughing genuinely, despite the quick strokes he's gifting himself with his hand. You even watch him thrust up into his hand while his brows meet slightly before he says, "It's so fuckin' cute when you try to act like you're the one in control."

The scoff you release is almost immediate, "I'm not acting, I-"

"As if you're not the one.. mmgh, finishing first every time we fuck. Making the prettiest lil' mess around me every single time." His head falls back, lengthy black locks splayed all out against his shoulders and chest, also falling back with the angle of his head.

Then, he rolls his neck a bit just to make sure you see him looking directly at you, his hand moving a lot quicker along his shaft now, "Hell, as if you're not sitting there fighting the urge to stuff that pretty pussy with a finger or two just from watchin' me." He says bluntly.

Your face heats up instantly and a response falls flat on your tongue as your brain scrambles for something equally as filthy to say in response.

Before you could get the chance, Suguru's shaking his head and slowing his hand down as he meets the hefty base of his cock, "That's all it takes for you anyway," He murmurs, shooting a messy glob of spit down onto his tip and moaning at the contact.

"Aren't you the one getting off on my voice right now?" You breathe out, shifting against your bed and trying to ignore the gradual soak of your panties.

He smiles all too cockily for your liking and slips his hand upwards again, the sound catching on the line and hitting your ears way too moistly for your liking. With a downright nasty schlickk, you sit there watching and listening to him jerk off like some kinda professional, "Aren't you the one who asked me to show you the way I get off to your voice?" He points out.

You force yourself to glance away before you start drooling and whisper, "Stop deflecting, Suguru."

"Aww," He coos in a tone condescending enough to make your cunt throb and your thighs clench together even tighter. "Stop acting like it doesn't turn you on, pretty girl," He fires back.

Your eyes slowly trail back to the phone and his cock is all but glossed over in the prettiest mix of cum and saliva now, glistening in the camera and gorgeous enough for you to pull your lower lip in between your teeth.

You always hated loved how Suguru had the prettiest cock you'd ever laid eyes on. From the length, to every curvy vein, to it's sinful thickness and weight-, you could go on about the things you loved about his dick. But what always made it worse is the fact that he knows how to use it.

And acts like it too.

Even so, you harmlessly scoff and say, "...I'm gonna hang up." Slowly enough for him to fight back another laugh.

"And leave me all hard like this?" He teases, grinning knowingly. "Look at it, princess. Look at how needy I am for you, c'mon," Suguru challenges all of a sudden. He quickly earns your undivided attention and could practically feel your eyes traveling the length of his cock, "I dare you to hang up and leave me to tend to alll of this by myself."

You go silent and just watch him jerk off to your staring now, hearing his breathing grow heavier and watching his hips begin to lift as he thrusts into his hand.

"Yeahh, that's what I thought." Your friend with benefits chuckles out, "Now..." He pauses with one tighter grip on his shaft and stuffs down a heavy groan. "Lemme see how.. mgh, fuuck... lemme see how soaked my girl is over there."

A/N: Not proofread, sorry for errors, if any. & also completely off topic but send me ideas for kinktober PUHLEASEEE <3

[mainblogonly]

in the mood to make nsfw hcs for timeskip!hq boys ......

[mainblogonly]

perfect ten — no no haha you’re so sexy haha

characters : gojo geto nanami choso sukuna

info : chubby!reader, lwk maybe insecure!reader, getos is suggestive as HELLLLL im so srry and maybe choso too

a/n : request!!!! this took months to make icl. i lwk forgot what the request asked for while making this so🙇 forgive me.

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Obscure freshness

[mainblogonly]

darling, she's a star

msby 4 x f!pole dancer!reader fluff!! reader does pole as a hobby (i don't know enough about professional pole dancing to write about it), boys are sweet, reader doesn't want to tell them about her pole dancing for whatever reason and the boys are all just 10/10 cw: mentions of previous bad experiences with men/dating, but nothing explicitwc: about 800 each a/n: just got home from two back to back pole classes so i'm posting this now !! yay

bokuto koutarou

you and bokuto have been going to the same gym for a few weeks now, and you've mostly been friendly with each other. or, at the very least, as friendly as acquaintances can be. you both give a polite nod or a wave when you see each other, he helped you put the calisthenics dip bars away one time, and you followed him to the parking lot when he left his water bottle behind last week.

however, you haven't really had what could be considered as an "actual conversation". now, it's not that bokuto doesn't want to talk to you; it's just that he finds you so pretty that it makes him nervous. you're his gym crush, there's no doubt about it. he spends his entire gym session racking his brain for how to approach you, but can never settle on anything, and by the time he shows up to msby training, he's sulking. he feels like he missed his chance again. his teammates never hear the end of it, and it's gotten to the point that even sakusa, of all people, has begun to tease him about it.

"dude, just ask her exercise questions or something," atsumu suggests one day, "that's something, right?"

"i don't know. what if she doesn't want to talk about gym stuff?" bokuto groans, head in his hands, "she'll probably just think i'm some dumb athlete."

"well, technically—" sakusa starts.

"don't," meian stops him and sighs, "koutarou, just introduce yourself to her. that's all you need to do. that's what we've been telling you to do."

he just groans again. maybe the captain's right, he thinks. there's only one way to find out — he'll try it out when he sees you again.

which happens the day after.

he goes up to you in between workout sets and introduces himself, shaking your hand as you give him your name.

then he panics. he got through the introduction part, but what now? meian just told him to introduce himself, but didn't say what to do after. maybe he should follow what atsumu said?

"so, uh, what are you training for?" he asks, scratching the back of his neck.

"what?" you ask.

"oh, i mean, i noticed that you do a really cool mix of weights and calisthenics stuff, i figured you might be training for something specific?"

you debate with yourself for a second if you should tell him. you're training for pole dance but, in the past, guys haven't had the most positive or even respectful responses to that. because of that, you tend to wait a bit before being honest about this.

however, you figure you might as well get this over with. you can't deny that you find bokuto cute and that you've been wanting to talk to him, so you might as well save yourself the hurt of finding out later on — when you're deep in your feelings — that he actually isn't okay with it.

"i actually pole dance," you explain, and his eyes widen.

here it comes, you brace yourself. you're trying to anticipate what sort of thing might come out of his mouth until he blurts out—

"oh wow, no wonder you're strong as fuck!" he beams.

"wait— what?" you jump a little at the volume of his voice.

"oh, sorry, i didn't mean to shout!" he says "i just— you guys do those crazy tricks right? where it looks like you're flying? that takes some insane muscle!"

"oh, uh, yeah!" you smile, starting to recover from the whiplash of this conversation, "that's why i do all this stuff outside of my dance classes. i asked my teachers for conditioning exercises, so i mix and match them whenever i'm here."

"that's awesome!" he says, "i've been trying to do that with my coach's advice, too. i play volleyball, by the way."

"oh, i've been trying to remember where i've seen you before! i think i've seen one of your games!"

he absolutely perks up at that, "really? you should come watch another one! and maybe we can exercise together sometime? you can teach me how you mix and match your workouts, and we can get dinner after!"

he only realizes what he just said after speaking, and he blushes. where did he even get the courage to ask you out? crap, maybe that was too forward, he thinks, she'll probably never—

"that sounds fun, yeah!" you smile at how pink his cheeks have gotten, "i'll give you my number and we can plan it?"

"y- yes! okay! definitely! that's perfect!" he hands you his phone and watches as you type in your number.

you talk a bit more before going back to your respective workouts, and he cannot wipe the smile off his face the entire time. he texts you the second he leaves the gym, already planning where to take you for that dinner date.

⋆.ೃ࿔:𓇼⋆.ೃ࿔:⋆

miya atsumu

you've just started dating atsumu, and it's been a whirlwind in the best way. to be honest, he struck you as a fuckboy when you first met but — ever since you told him about that on your first "official" date — he's been determined to prove you wrong. he's made it a point to plan every date around your interests, get you "just because" flowers, and show you off whenever you come to cheer for him at his games. you love it, and he loves that you love it.

however, he's noticed that you haven't had much time for him lately. you've been saying "no" to dates and replying to him a lot later, and it has him worried. he just can't figure out what's wrong. you said that everything at work is fine, you've had time to hang out with your friends, and things seem to be alright with your family. that leaves only one thing.

maybe it's him? maybe he's moving too fast? or maybe it's not enough? is it because he hasn't asked you to be his girlfriend yet?

he's this close to spiraling in the middle of onigiri miya until his brother knocks some sense into him.

"stop moping and just ask her, you idiot," osamu says, wiping down the counter, "and if you're gonna stay here any longer, at least order something."

he hates to admit it, but he knows osamu's right.

so when he goes to pick you up from work half an hour later — with a batch of freshly made onigiri thanks to osamu — he brings it up.

"hey, is everything okay?" he asks once you both get in his car.

"everything's great, tsumu! why do you ask?"

"you've just been a little... distant, i guess? and i just wanted to make sure and see if there's anything i did to put you off?"

you how he's fiddling with the hem of his team jacket, switching between looking at you in the eye and glancing down, and that's when the guilt gets to you. you've been busy with your pole dance showcase coming up and you have yet to tell him about it. actually, you haven't even told him that you do it in the first place, worried that he wouldn't like it (or that he'd like it a little too much).

but right now he just looks so earnest as he patiently waits for you to respond, and all you want to do is reassure him.

"it's nothing bad, i promise," you start, "i've just been busy... with pole."

"pole?" he asks.

"i'm a pole dancer," you explain simply.

you probably shouldn't have waited this long, you think. even though he didn't leave the best first impression on you, he's been really sweet to you so far! and unlike the guys you've dated in the past, he doesn't seem like the type to go "why don't you give me a show, babe?" or "do i get a private dance?" or—

"can i watch you sometime?" atsumu asks.

oh. there it is.

you feel your heart sink and you shift away from him. your walls start to go up. you think, maybe my first impression was right. perhaps he is like those other guys. it was about time, right? this was bound to happen, it always does.

"atsumu, i—"

"wait, i didn't mean it in a weird way!" he says, noticing the change in you, " i just mean— i didn't mean to be creepy, and i'm not just saying that! i—"

he sighs, takes a deep breath. instinct makes you want to get out of the car, but reason makes you stay. he's clearly frustrated at himself for how he made you feel, how he caused this shift in you.

you wait for him to continue, silently hoping that he'll prove you wrong once again.

"i really want us to work out," he admits after a beat, "and that came out wrong. i meant— you've been coming to my games and i just thought, dancers have those shows right? those recitals? and i was thinking i could go to one of yours and get you your favorite flowers and clap really, really loud when you're up there and tell you that you did really well, just like how you tell me after one of my games. i just really like the idea of getting to support you like that."

"yeah?" you ask, the hope continuing to bloom in your chest.

"yeah," he nods as he gently takes your hand, "and i don't have to watch if you're uncomfortable! i'm happy to be the boyfriend who picks you up after the show. still with a huge bouquet of flowers, of course."

you smile, "that sounds ni— wait, boyfriend?"

"i mean, i still plan on asking you properly, but yeah."

you thread your fingers through his, "i like the sound of that."

⋆.ೃ࿔:𓇼⋆.ೃ࿔:⋆

sakusa kiyoomi

you're buzzing around kiyoomi's apartment, tidying things up and preparing for him to get home from practice. your relationship is relatively new, but you've still been spending a lot time at each other's place nearly every week. he gave you to the spare keys to his apartment a few days ago because you had mentioned wanting to try out a new recipe for your friday dinner date.

you have the table set up beautifully: a couple of candles, two wine glasses waiting to be filled (it is a friday, after all), and two plates of a mouth-watering, well-balanced, and hopefully professional athlete-approved meal. you're pretty damn proud of yourself, if you're being honest, and you hope your boyfriend loves it, too.

you're setting aside the pan you just rinsed off when you hear the door unlock.

"i'm home," kiyoomi greets, taking his shoes off by the entrance, "it smells amazing, love."

"thank you! i hope it tastes as good as it smells, too," you say, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek, "how was practice?"

"it was good, yeah," he says, kissing the top of your head before he goes to wash his hands, "the guys actually showed me something really interesting."

"what was it?"

he dries his hands off and you both sit at the table. a pause.

"can i ask you something first?"

now normally, you can read whatever emotion flies across kiyoomi's face. especially without a face mask on, it's pretty easy to figure out what he's thinking. he's definitely not as ice cold as the public makes him out to be, but now you're starting to see where they get that idea.

for the first time since you started dating, you cannot read him at all. he has the exact same look on his face as when he's on the court: focused and calculating, looking through all the possibilities to find the best way to get what he needs.

a little nervous, you nod, "go ahead."

"do i make you uncomfortable?" he asks directly.

"not at all."

"do you trust me?"

"i do," you say, "can i ask where all this is coming from?"

he takes a second, gathers his thoughts, "the person bokuto started seeing, she's a dancer. they met at the gym."

"oh," you say, unsure where this is going, "good for him."

"she's a pole dancer," he continues.

and suddenly it all makes sense.

he found out.

it's not like you planned to keep your pole dancing a secret forever; you just didn't know how he would feel. things have been going so well between you two and you just kept pushing this back and it just never seemed like the right time. it's gotten to the point where it always feels like it's too late to say anything.

for now, you simply nod, "i see."

"he was showing us her instagram where she posts videos from her classes, and i saw you."

this is it, you think. like every guy before, he has one problem or another with the fact that you pole dance. he's either going to break up with you or give you an unfair ultimatum, or he'll say it's too inappropriate or risqué or improper or—

"you look really happy when you dance," he observes, "and i want to know if i did anything to make you feel like you couldn't tell me about this."

you stare at him, trying to process what he just said.

so he doesn't have a problem with it?

"no, i don't," he says, making you realize you said that out loud, "but now i am concerned that i might have done something to make you think i would."

"you… you didn't. people in the past just haven't been the most, uh, receptive or respectful of my pole dancing."

he nods, reaching for your hand, "well, for what it's worth, i only ever have the most respect and love for you. and to me, this is now another thing that i get to love about you. so if you're comfortable, i would really appreciate if you told me more."

"yeah?"

he smiles, breaking that unreadable facade of his. you see a wave of emotions cross his face that can only be described by one word: warmth.

"yes. maybe you can tell me all about it while we enjoy this dinner you've made?"

"i'd love to," you give his hand a quick squeeze.

you spend the dinner filling him in on everything: how you started, what you love so much about it, the tricks you've been learning lately. he listens intently, letting you ramble and asking you questions to learn more. throughout the night, that look of warmth never leaves his face. he simply marvels at the way your eyes light up as you talk, and he makes a silent promise that he'll always make sure you feel safe enough to share your life with him.

⋆.ೃ࿔:𓇼⋆.ೃ࿔:⋆

hinata shoyo

you met hinata through a mutual friend and instantly hit it off. in fact, your conversations flowed so easily that if people didn't know better, they would have assumed that you'd known each other for years.

naturally, the two of you started dating. hinata is absolutely smitten with you — he sees you every chance he gets, replies to your messages as soon as he can, and pays for every meal (he lets you pay for dessert a few times when you insist, but that's the only time he'll let you bring your wallet out). he also regularly invites you over to his apartment for more relaxed dates, which is what you're preparing for right now.

you're strolling through the aisles of the supermarket when he calls.

"hey, sho!" you greet, "i was just getting snacks for tomorrow. sour gummies or hot chips?"

"get both, i'll pay you back!" he says, "i actually wanted to ask: is it alright if we hang out at your place tomorrow? my neighbor's having some construction done and it's way too loud."

"oh, yeah, that's no problem! you have the address saved, right?"

"yup! i'll come over after practice tomorrow? around 6?"

"sounds great, see you!"

"see you soon!"

you end the call, and only then do you realize:

oh shit.

this is his first time coming over.

he's going to see it.

by "it" you mean the pole you had installed in your living room so you could practice at home. you've been holding off on telling him because people in the past have disrespected your pole dancing, from oversexualizing it to not treating it as an actual sport (which all types of dance should be considered as, you strongly believe).

however, maybe hinata's different? he's never shut down or been ignorant of any of your other interests and hobbies so far, so there is reason to believe he'll be cool about all of it. besides, you'll have to tell him about this eventually. maybe his neighbor's construction work is some weird sign that now's the best time to do so.

you spend the rest of the day preparing and trying not too worry too much about what he'll think. soon enough, it's the next day and it's nearly time for him to arrive.

it'll be fine, you try to convince yourself, this is hinata we're talking about.

the doorbell rings. he's here.

you wipe your sweaty palms on your shorts and take a deep breath. you open the door.

"there she is!" he greets, a huge bag of snacks and drinks in one arm and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in another. always such a gentleman.

you open the door wider, accepting the flowers as he enters your apartment.

"i'm really sorry we couldn't stay at my place today."

"it's no problem! i'm happy to have you over this time," you say, trying to sound more cheerful than usual to mask the nerves.

"where should i put the food— oh cool! what's that?"

here we go. time to see what he thinks, time to see if the gamble of inviting him over is worth it.

"that's my pole."

it stands tall and proud in the space between your dining table and the back of your couch. you have a mat resting against one wall (for when you're practicing inversions), and your heels placed next to that.

"you dance?" he asks, turning to you. your heart is racing so fast you can't even discern the expression he has right now.

you nod, "yeah, for a couple years now."

silence that probably only lasts a second or two feels like eternity to you as you brace yourself for the worst.

"that's awesome! why didn't you tell me before?" he asks excitedly.

"you don't mind?"

"why would i?" he tilts his head, eyebrows coming together in genuine confusion, "oh! are you recovering from an injury or something? is it unsafe?"

"no, nothing like that," you go to sit on the couch and invite him to take the spot next to you, "guys in the past just had a lot of… opinions about it."

he hums, "i see. well, i think it's great! do you think you could teach me sometime?"

you nod, laughing. he gets you to talk more about pole dancing — asking what feels like a hundred questions, all of which you're more than happy to answer — for the rest of the night. he listens intently and, on top of that, he takes you seriously. this is something you love and dedicate a lot of time to, and he shows just how much he respects that.

you're in the middle of telling him about your last class when suddenly,

"oh my god," he exclaims.

"what?"

his eyes light up as he smiles down at you, "i'm dating an athlete!"

[mainblogonly]

18+

suguru geto is supposed to be your fuckbuddy, but he’s so boyfriend-coded that everyone just assumes you’re dating. “just friends,” except he shows up with flowers and your favorite snacks like a dutiful partner—then thirty minutes later he’s got you gagging on his cock til your throat aches. and of course, sweet suguru makes amends with a cup of herbal tea.

“not your boyfriend,” yet he still feeds you bites off his plate, and carefully wipes soy sauce from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. everyone can see the way he looks at you.

and maybe it’s easier to let your friends gossip than admit the same man who kneels to tie your shoelace is the one fucking you into his sheets hours later. the cognitive dissonance should feel absurd, but it doesn’t. it feels perilously natural.

you remind him he’s not your boyfriend. over and over like a mantra. you remind yourself too, in the post-coital afterglow when he’s holding you in his arms, lips pressed to your temple, after he’s fucked you like he hates you.

truth is, suguru does boyfriend shit better than most boyfriends. and when you accuse him of acting like one, suguru only smirks, presses his cock deeper into you. “if the shoe fits, princess.”

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exhusband!atsumu doesn't really understand the whole "divorced" thing.

granted, it wasn't really over anything he did, but rather, the things he didn't do. the distance proved to be much more difficult than you ever could have imagined. weeks away at training camps, only to be followed by months away at tournaments. every spare moment he had that wasn't dedicated to the game was devoted to commercials, sponsorships, interviews, charity events. the list felt endless.

you tried to be understanding. really you did. but the quiet nights alone, the dinner he promised he'd be home for going cold in front of you, birthdays spent alone with just a phone call, his voice cutting in and out between airports, the countless holidays you'd spent explaining to your family that he "really wanted to be here."

you'd served him the papers, all tucked neatly in a cream manila folder, on a rainy afternoon. you watched as he read them over once, twice, three times before placing them back inside and walking to the bathroom.

"'tsumu, we have to talk about this," you sigh, leaned against the door of the bathroom as you listen to the shower run for what feels like hours.

"talk 'bout what?" to your surprise, his voice sounds bright, even through the rush of the water. he's thankful you can't see the way his tears mix with the droplets that slide down his face. even still, he puts on a cheerful tone. for your sake. "i'll be out in a second, hun. go 'head and get comfy!"

days pass by like this, with atsumu evading the topic like the plague every time you bring it up. the word makes his skin crawl. divorce? the thought of being without you feels like some horrific alternate reality, yet here he is, living through it.

when you'd showed him the papers, he swears his heart sinks through the floor. he hadn't realized just how alone you'd been feeling, and now you're telling him that you'd practically be better off without him?

all he does is think about you when he's away. if you've eaten, how you've slept, if you're aching to be with him just as much as he was you. he hasn't even told you the amount of times he's booked a last minute flight back home to you, nothing but a frantically filled backpack over his shoulder, only to be stopped by his manager or his coach telling him that he'll be letting down the fans, letting down the team if he ditches them like this.

he's had so much pressure on his shoulders. people constantly telling him to do more, be more. more more more. that he hadn't realized he'd given up so much of himself to others until there was nothing left for you.

then you'd handed him those goddamn papers.

and atsumu decides, then and there, that he's going to change your mind. no matter what it takes. fuck the team. fuck the brand deals. fuck it all. because if it isn't you, it isn't anyone.

suddenly, atsumu's home 24/7. he's there when you leave for work and, for the first time in what feels like forever, he's still there when you get back. he wakes up early to pack your lunches. he does the laundry, folding the clothes just the way you like them.

he leaves notes everywhere, messy pen scrawled on sticky notes sporadically placed in the areas of the house he knows you'll look. have a good day, beautiful! and got you a new toothbrush! it's next to mine :) and leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry! and i miss you's and i love you's galore. thinking maybe, just maybe, if he can make up for all the time he'd wasted away from you, that you might find your way back to him.

but when he returns home from a grocery run, he immediately notices something is very wrong.

there's an emptiness to the space that wasn't there when he left. he drops the bags, cans rolling onto the floor, and rushes to the bedroom. all your stuff; clothes, pictures, little trinkets he used to tease you for keeping — everything, all gone. the closet door hangs open, the empty hangers inside taunting him. the bathroom counter is nearly spotless, cleared of your perfumes, skincare, hair ties.

his heart's pounding so hard he thinks he might throw up, knees going weak when he finally catches sight of your wedding picture, the only frame you'd left behind, laid face-down on the dresser. a small note stuck to the back of it.

he grabs it with shaking hands, reading the short, careful writing.

please don't follow me. i can't do this anymore.

[mainblogonly]

my favorite form of entertainment is watching tsukishima successfully ragebait half of the haikyuu cast

[mainblogonly]

MAKE THAT PULL-OUT GAME WEAK!

synopsis❤︎: jjk men when they 'accidentally' cum inside..

featuring❤︎: gojo, toji, nanami, & choso

tags❤︎: fem!reader, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl, premature ejaculations, breeding kink, praise, petnames, office sex, voyeurism, needy!men, submissiveness, slight dubcon

SATORU GOJO

“h-hah baby.. fuck!” satoru throws his head back, hips arching upward as you bounce on his cock reverse cowgirl style.

he looved this position for a variety of reasons, mostly because of the way your ass would move, reaching out to squeeze a handful of the soft, supple globes and watching as your pussy greedily swallowed every inch, slamming up and down on him repeatedly, echoing smacks! of skin on skin filling the room.

you had been going for quite some time now, your hips never faltering as satoru feels his taut stomach grow even achingly knottier, each heaving breath an effort as his eyes fall half-lidded.

“s-slow down.. mmph!” he moans as you pause, only to roll and gyrate your hips, cock molding your gummy insides perfectly as his thickened tip hits deep into your cervix, dragging swelteringly hot strokes back n’ forth as the sensitive veins lining his dick thump thump!

“such a biiig stretch..” you toss him a look over your shoulder, eyelashes lowered and fluttering, and your cheeks flushed. “feels s’good ‘toru..”

he closes his eyes briefly, the coil in his stomach tightening as your sticky thighs and dripping cunt hover over him and raise yourself up and down, riding him into oblivion with a mischievous little smile.

you knew what you were doing.

his hands come to your hips, helping you to bounce faster, feeling your pussy clamp tight before spasming, a slutty little moan drifting out of your mouth as you cream all over his cock, drenching him in honeyed slick. “mmph.. cumming, cumming..!”

and as your cunt tightens and clenches hard around him, until every ridge and vein of his is contoured to your warm, plush walls, it’s all too much.

“baby..! get off! get off!”

satoru tries to warn you desperately of his furiously fast-approaching orgasm, his cock throbbing deep into you, as he tries to hold off and lift you off him, but you’re too far gone, coming down from your own climax with euphoria.

he screws his eyes shut tightly, trying to last but then you wriggle your hips, wedging him deeper, pussy squeezing like a vice and it’s over.

endless spurts of ribbons n’ ribbons of creamy white pulse into you as steadily, satoru’s grip on your hips pins you down on top of him while he fills you up, a milky white ring forming around his base as he sucks in gasping heaves of breath.

you shudder, your voice coming out in a whine. “s’toru are you.. cumming?”

his cock is still drooling stringy wads as his answer comes strained and breathless. “fuck.. m’sorry baby. i couldn’t.. pull out.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO

“please doll.. need you s’bad.” rough palms slide up your stomach to cup your breasts, toji’s veiny, thickened tip bumping your entrance as he leans over you, jagged scar on his lip coming to brush your cheek gruffly as he pleads with you.

“b-but we don’t have an.. ah.. condom!” you manage to breathe, your body betraying you as it squirms and tries to align itself with toji’s round, pulsing cock head, smearing the sloshing slick of your cunt back n’ forth with a hoarse grunt.

“i can pull out.. heh.” his already sweaty forehead is pressed to yours, head drooping downward as he sucks in feverish breath after feverish breath, hips slightly grinding against the plush softness of your tummy for relief.

your legs part slightly, revealing the beads of shimmery sheen dripping from between your thighs, your need palpable from the way your puffy clit twitches and throbs. “o-okay.. just please.”

he chuckles lowly at the sight, voice catching in a slight growl as he slots himself between, heavy jumping cock resting against you.

he splays a big hand across your stomach, just above your belly button, and you feel him start to push in, chubbed inch by inch. “gonna feel me all the way here..” he pushes down slightly on the growing bulge steadily sheathing itself deep inside you.

you moan out something caught between a whimper and a plead, and with one sharp thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, bludgeony tip prodding into your cervix and heavy balls smacking against your ass.

and he’s already moving, one hand coming to your throat, holding you down as he ravages you, shamelessly throwing his head back and grunting.

you had never felt him raw before, and your glassy eyes rolled back at how every delicious vein, curve, and ridge of his cock was plummeting inside you, shaping your insides to fit him perfectly.

“ohh.. so mm’ fucking tight..” he growls softly, slamming his hips roughly into you, grip bruising as he hits your cushy, sweet spot repeatedly, watching your face contort in drunken pleasure, lascivious drool pouring out of your slacken jaw. “feels even better without a.. hah.. piece of rubber in the way.”

thick digits wander down to your puffy bud, rubbing slow circles as you squirm, whining how close you are, before all of a sudden, you’re cumming hard, absolutely drenching toji’s muscular lower abdominals in your squirt, his nasty hips reeling back before suddenly pausing.

“did you jus’..” he shudders, hips twitching frantically as he begins to pull out, but he’s too slow as his sudden orgasm washes over him all at once, hot, sweltering gushes of seed that fill you to the very brim of your overstuffed cunt, so much pouring out in creamy sheens, it has your stomach bulging and sloshing with it all.

“toooji..” you whine, peering at how gooey wads of white dribble down your thighs messily, clearly not having pulled out.

and still cumming, he looks up at you sheepishly with glossy eyes.

"wan' be a pretty mama, doll? 'cause you just might be after this.."

KENTO NANAMI

nanami was a practical man, he worked hard at his office, he was sweet to you even during intimacy, his hands were always gentle and composed, and he definitely didn’t forget protection.

but that all went out the window the second you, his pretty wife came to visit him at his office, bringing along a special lunch you had cooked just for him, knowing how stressed and overworked your poor husband was.

and a few minutes later, with his sloppy hips pistoning in and out of you, and your tits pressed harshly against his desk with your cheek squished against his neatly stacked paperwork, it turned out he was hungry for something else..

“got all dolled up jus’ f’me?” he coos softly, slamming his reddened cock, blushing and beading pearly precum at the tip in n’ out roughly, your skirt and panties bunched up at your waist carelessly, visible to anyone who walks by kento’s office.

but he doesn’t seem to care, usually neatly trimmed blonde hair sticking to his forehead sweatily, plunging himself so deep into you, you swear you can feel him all the way in your throat, a dumb little fucked-out expression on your face as you cling onto the rattling desk for dear life, back arched so sluttily as his hands grasp tightly onto your hips, rolling you back n' forth onto his cock, you're surprised no one else hears the filthily wet noises echoing throughout the office.

“darling, i might have to pull out..” he sucks in gasping heaves of breath, brows knitting together almost painfully as he tries to hold off his oncoming orgasm, placing his hands on your hips gently to slide himself out of your gummy warmth, much to your dismay.

“w-wait, m’so closeee!” you whine, backing up steadily into him to suck in more of his fat cock. “just a lil’ longer, c’mon..”

and oh, who was nanami to say no to his darling wife?

with a winding tightness in his stomach, he fucks into you harder, hips slapping against you with every thrust, until you’re whining, messy tears spilling from your eyes as your scorching hot walls clamp so tight around him, he couldn’t pull out if he tried.

and then you’re cumming, your pussy drooling your saturated shimmery essence, and fluttering around nanami’s sensitive, twitching dick.

“honey.. ngh!”

and that’s all he can say, before he’s absolutely dumping loads n’ loads of sticky white seed into your clamping pussy, euphoria overtaking his senses as he drills his cock deeper, forcing you to take every last drop.

"fuck sweetheart!" he curses low as his hips snap ferally into yours, unable to stop the copious amounts of hot white cum he's endlessly spurting into you, your traitorous cunt milking him for all he's worth as you squeak in surprise.

"kentooo.." you watch his milky dredges drip! drip! drip! out of your messy, sloppy pussy, folds stickily glued together, as his hand comes almost reverently to push on the little bump in your stomach, watching in awe as all of his creamy ropes instantly gush out of you generously.

"sorry honey.." his voice is raspy, strained, but his eyes are heavy-lidded and filled with desire. "but this makes me think.. wan' have a baby?"

CHOSO KAMO

your plushy thighs sprawl apart under the frantically panting man above you, practically ripping your panties off as he nuzzles his cock between your thighs, humping softly with needy little tears pricking at his dark, fluttering lashes.

“i knooow i didn’t bring a condom..” he whines, thick leaky member pulsating steadily in between you, thickened mushroomy head ever so slightly bumping the entrance of your pussy as he pleads.

"buut i'll be good, swear! m'gonna.. hah.. pull out! please just let me.."

his dick nestles itself in between your sappy sticky folds, choso's hips rutting animalistically back n' forth between them, barely restraining himself from just plunging into your hot, gooey walls right then and there.

"s'okay cho.." you whisper, stroking through his messy black space buns and tugging slightly, causing a whine to leave his throat. "just fuck me."

instantly his hands are fumbling to wrap around your waist, as he sloowly pushes himself in, groaning at your tight clamping muscles of resistance as you squeeze around him tightly.

you had always used protection, so the feeling of him going in raw was completely unlike anything you'd ever felt before.

every throbbing vein, pulsing ridge, and his hot bulbous tip pressed directly into your cervix is magnified, making the room hot n' humid, choso's feverish forehead dropping onto yours with a pathetic little moan.

experimentally, he pulls out until only the tip is inside you before slamming himself back in harshly, the wet sound of skin on skin echoing as he quickly finds a pace, fucking you roughly, with your legs intertwined behind his back.

you moan softly as his hefty balls slap into your ass with every thrust, tits pressed against his sweaty bare chest only heightening your sensations until you're so close to cumming, you can taste it, your vision starting to blacken at the corners.

choso is close too, obviously not able to last very long with the feeling of your bare pussy wrapped around him like a vice, his grunts turning breathier and needier as he feels his stomach go taut.

and just as he's about to regretfully pull out of your warm, welcoming cunt, you squeal, legs tightening around his back and effectively trapping him as you gush all over his poor, sensitive cock, stringy drools of your slick running down all along your thighs messily.

"uungh..! baby! baby open your legs!" he tries to get out, but he's barely able to finish the last word before he's absolutely spurting heaps of buttery seed, unable to stop as he shudders, hips stuttering and bucking into you sloppily.

you have a cute little flushed look on your face as you come down from your high, staring at where you two are connected, and watching choso's hot, slithery ropes seep out of you steadily with a little giggle.

you shift, widening your legs as you press a kiss to his nose. "s'okay cho, i'm on the pill."

he lets out a shameless whimper, throwing his head back as his hips press further into you. "that's good 'cause m'still cumming.."

© 2025 CHOSOSCUTIE. please don't copy or translate any of my works. all rights reserved.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!!

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big fan of men who call you spoiled and roll their eyes at you but continue to give into your every whim

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ᘏ Sukuna gets off to nerd!reader's insta

warnings: MDNI, mutual attraction, what the title said, solo self-pleasure, part 1 here

an - keeping this two parts only cus I'm moving onto one other idea then kinktober xx

Sukuna had many obligations.

First, there was rugby practice. Or maybe he should’ve been in the gym, working on his legs. He should’ve been doing anything, actually. Anything other than this.

Instead, Sukuna had his phone in hand, legs spread out obscenely wide as he slouched against the headboard of his bed. A large hand was wrapped around his cock, the glow of his screen illuminating his face in the midst of the darkness of his bedroom. Sukuna wasn't watching porn, he wasn't getting himself off to fake moans or over-exaggerated eye rolls.

He was getting himself off to you.

More specifically, Sukuna was scrolling through your Instagram profile, thumb careful not to accidentally like any of your pictures. A couple of photos had caught his eye, the sort that flew under the radar and was only really hearted by your close mutuals. One particularly image had him completely captivated— a selfie of you sitting at your overly cluttered desk, textbooks and color-coded notes scattered about. A laptop wobbled on your bare thigh, a hoodie far too big for you clothing your body. Your lips were the main attraction, barely parted and quirked up in a slight grimace at having to assignments. Sukuna's eyes briefly skimmed over the caption: "looking like another all-nighter T_T"

How mundane.

Yet Sukuna had saved the photo immediately.

He kept scrolling, thumb flicking through your account like it was his own personal wank bank. There were selfies of you on outings, at the beach, sneakily taking pictures of your friends in lectures. In each and every one of them, Sukuna could only focus on your face.

Shit. He was leaking, his damp thumb smearing precum across his tip. His arousal had streaked across his knuckles as he pumped himself with sharp, deliberate strokes. “Fucking loser . . .” he rasped, voice rough underneath his breath as his hips tilted up to meet his fist.

Another photo of yours caught his eye. Sukuna paused, eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of you in a tight white t-shirt. If he squinted, he could see the imprint of your bra underneath your clothing. The mirror-selfie wasn't meant to be anything serious in the first place, but all Sukuna saw was how tight your t-shirt was— a stark difference to the baggy hoodies you usually wore to lectures.

Sukuna's breath audibly hitched in the sanctuary of his bedroom, his teeth digging into his lower lip.

“Bet you're a fuckin' slut in hiding . . .”

The man muttered to himself, speeding up the pace of his hand. Precum sputtered out of his cock, even dripping down onto his cracked phone screen. His abs tensed repeatedly, in time with the twitching of his heavyset thighs as he scrolled with one hand.

Every so often, Sukuna would zoom in on your face. He'd take in with affection the sight of your glossy lips, the way your brows furrowed in the middle, how you often had a faraway look in your eyes. He then found an old photo of you in the university library. It was clear that a friend had taken the photo for you— the comments filled with an individual screaming at you for the lack of credits. You had a bored look on your face, your head having been propped on your palm.

“God, ain't you fucking cute . . . ” He murmured through gritted teeth, the admission stifled like it was something he should have been ashamed to say. Sukuna paused his jerking to slide his hand down so that he could gently squeeze his balls, a guttural grunt of your name leaving his lips. Had anyone asked what he thought of you, he'd insistently deny the knowledge of your existence, claiming to use you for work. But a large part of Sukuna loved this dirty little secret of his, that he'd scroll through your photos before bed and fuck himself to the sight of your pretty face.

Sukuna's chest heaved, the veins in his forearm filling up as he let his own imagination grow wild. You'd look cute, he thought, on your knees with your mouth stuffed full of his cock. There was a little voice, a nagging in his brain that you were doing the exact same thing that he did every night. Hell, there was no way you weren't— not when you were so eager to go out of your way to help him with anything he needed.

It didn't take long for Sukuna's orgasm to wash over his entire body, pulses of heat traveling from his groin to his head. Cum oozed from his tip, coating his stomach and even his phone screen, right where your face was smiling back at him. How funny, Sukuna thought. A twisted little cum tribute for you, and you didn't even know about it.

Too much time had passed whilst Sukuna was recovering from his orgasm, causing his phone screen to dim. Your photo was still coated in his cum, until Sukuna dragged his thumb across it. With a curse, Sukuna reached over to his bedside table and grabbed a wad of tissues, cleaning his phone up with a pant.

Sukuna knew he should have turned off his phone and showered instead of letting the pools of cum cool on his quivering stomach. But instead, Sukuna's crimson eyes caught the blue button that seemed to stand out more than any of your selfies did.

Follow.

He didn't know whether it was a good idea or not to follow you, some random chick from his class who spent too much time with her nose in a book. But the thought of you lighting up at the notification made Sukuna's cock twitch almost violently. Would you wait a day to check your notifications, or would you be as pathetic as he thought you'd be and follow back immediately, even though it was well into the night.

Sukuna's answer was answered soon enough, though, when his inbox was suddenly flooded with likes from you. Truly pathetic, but he couldn't help but feel flattered. And somewhere not too far away in your own room, your thighs tightened around an oversized pillow once more.

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"I don't know why she's so drawn to it"

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fighting that ends with you on the dinner table, legs spread, his head in between your thighs as he eats you out as you tug on his hair and tell him that whatever you were discussing is not over. and you just feel him laugh because he is fine with it as long as he’ll end up like this again

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“𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! caught fucking and neither of you stop, sugar baby!reader, ceo au, light exhibitionism, light voyeurism, degradation/praise, impact play with a belt, choking with a belt, handjob, face fucking, satoru stick his thumb in your ass, cream pie, pain kink, collar and leash (they make one with the belt)

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧! Ceo!satoru gets caught fucking his sugar baby at work but he doesn't stop

The heavy door of Satoru’s office automatically slides open with a small click. On the other side is a beautiful man in a black suit with angular dark brown eyes and long black hair.

His smooth, gentle voice contrasts his cocky smirk. “Thought I drop by for a surprise visit, didn't expect to be the one surprised.”Walking into Satoru’s office, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. “Suguru Geto.” Standing in front of you giving you an eyeful of the outline of his thick cock.

Your pussy sinfully clenches, you want them both. Looking up at Suguru pleading with Satoru, “Don’t stop! Don't stop! Nnn feels ‘s fuckin’ good.” Your messy cunt lewdly squelches, fluttering around Satoru.

Satoru’s long, veiny cock is making a mess out of your cunt. You’re dripping down your thighs as he wrecks your cunt with quick hard thrusts. Filling you with intense body-tingling pleasure making your knees weak.

It’s hot the way Satoru grunts, “Fuckin’ cumslut,” Clenching Satoru, biting your lip when he needy whines. “Her cunt got wetter, you like it when he watch huh?” Sharply smacking your ass, making your cheek jiggle. You cry as sweet hot pain spreads from your cheeks to your needy cunt. -

Suguru unbuckles and tugs on his black leather belt. Biting your lip when he loops it, holding it out to Satoru. “Use my belt on her slutty ass. We can see how long it takes for her cheeks red.” You fondle Suguru’s hard cock through his pants. His cock is so heavy and thick, his balls are large.

Satoru slowly drags the leather belt along your cheek. Anticipation builds, “Best pussy sleeve I’ve paid for. Don’t fuck her mouth yet, I wanna hear her crying.” Gliding his cock out.

Smack! Smack! Smack! The desk keeps you from running away from the fourth.

Satoru groans, “Stupid whores like you get their asses spanked for being dirty cock loving sluts, say it!.” Jerking forward with each sharp belt crack, clutching the desk.

You pathetically whine, “Stupid whores get like me get their asses spanked for being dirty cock loving slut! I love having my ass spanked! Nnn love being your slut.”

Another click of the sliding doors. “Damn choke her out with it too while you at it.” A handsome man dressed less formally in white collar and black slacks. Short black hair hangs in his dark ocean blue eyes. His lips have a defining scar.

Satoru informs, “The meeting is delayed by an incoming flight.” Your cheek is warm with sweet white hot throbbing pain. The desk is the only thing keeping you up. “Brat,” Smack! “Here is helping me release a little stress.” Satoru massages your aching cheek, dragging the belt along your spine to your other cheek.

Looping the belt around your neck, lifting your head up, and choking you. “Her mouth is free to use.” Satoru lines himself up, swiping his head between your wet lips. Rutting his cock in with a harsh thrust of his hips and a loud smack of skin.

Suguru undoes and pushes down his pants with his underwear. His cock is beautiful, pale with a soft tan at his cockhead. There are two thick puffy veins close together. You want to choke, suck and gag on Suguru's fat dick.

Opening your mouth for Suguru, Satoru squeezes the belt around your neck. You hear the clank of a belt hitting the floor. A rough hand grabs your wrist, and he spits on your hand wrapping your fingers around his cock. Thicker than Suguru, swirling your hand stroking his cock.

Satoru spreads your cheek apart with one hand. Spitting on your other hole, swirling his thumb then sliding it in. "Since you got here late you can have the glory hole after Suguru." It's all going to your messy cunt. You’re hoping all three of them cum in your cunt or ass leaving a mess to drip down your thighs when you head home.

Clenching Satoru's cock, gagging on Suguru's, stoking Toji. You're a mindless, cock hungry mess with spit dripping down your chin. Slick trickles down your thighs smearing onto Satoru's balls when they hit your clit.

Tears drip down your cheeks, Suguru buries his cock in your throat. Your cunt clenches Satotu with each gag.

Suguru croons "Awww she's crying!" Sliding his cock out, you gasp for air but nothing. Toji slides your hand off his cock when Suguru steps aside. Toji smacks his heavy cock against your cheek smearing your tears. Before he fucks your mouth in slow deep thrusts.

You’re lying limp, trembling on Satoru's rocking desk. Your lungs are screaming for air. Toji's warm cock dragging along your wet tongue. Stuffing his head into your tight throat with a rough grunt.

Satoru holds your cheek with his thumb in your ass. “Fuck! I love using her like this! She’s the perfect pussy sleeve.” Loosening the belt around your throat as Toji pulls his cock out giving you a moment to breathe.

Holding your hand out for Suguru’s cock, still wet with spit. Slowly sliding and swirling your hand along his cock. Staying close to his sensitive head, swiping your thumb every so often to smear his pre-cum. -

Suguru asks “Do you think she will be ready for round two when we finish work?" Following it with a breathy moan when you pump your fist faster.

Cupping Toji’s balls take his cock in your mouth looking up at him. Your back is arched, cheeks jiggling. Satoru sneers "Look at her, she a greedy cock hungry whore, course she is." Toji gags you with his cock the spasming of your cunt has Satoru moaning. He keeps pace steady whilst fucking you harder, bullying your sore cunt

The soft twitching of his cock and the pulsing of his veins with his thumb inside your ass gets you closer. It's his hot thick cum spilling inside you that makes your squelching cunt cum.

Satoru tugs the belt wrapped around your neck like a collar with a short leash fucking his cum deep into you. Smearing some of it cum with sloppy slow thrusts.

Satoru's hips smack your ass one last time before he bottoms out. Stuffing in some of the cum that follows his cock back in with his fingers. "She'll be at the door kneeling in lingerie waiting to be fucked like the whore she is, won’t you." Thick cum dripping from your cunt as Suguru takes his place.

Oreo’s m.list

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just a little needy

"baby, please," he's begging now, practically on his knees as he looks up at you with the most aching expression you've seen in a while, "i need it so bad."

"really, now? you need it? i highly doubt that."

"it only feels good when you do it," he rests a hand on your waist, rubbing small circles on your side with his thumb, "please, love?"

you consider it for a second. your boyfriend has never begged for anything like this, and he is asking nicely. plus, seeing him all desperate is definitely something you'll be replaying in your head for weeks. however—

"babe," you say, and he looks almost hopeful until you continue, "your hair wash day was yesterday. you know we can't wash your hair two days in a row, it'll get all weird."

"but i want a massage," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes.

about three weeks ago, you learned how to do your boyfriend's extensive hair care routine in exchange for him learning about your nightly skincare. you both initially did that in case the other person would be too sick or drunk to do it themselves. however, after you gave him a scalp massage when you took over his routine one night, he now "needs" you to do his hair routine every time (or, at least, he needs you to handle the deep conditioning part).

"listen, i'd love to, but you'll regret it when you spend an hour tomorrow morning trying to get your hair to behave," you try to reason.

he groans in frustration, burying his face in your stomach, "but it's been so long since you gave me one."

"i gave you a massage last night, you big baby," you laugh, "c'mon, go wash up so we can cuddle."

"fine," he relents, standing up, "will you do it tomorrow?"

"is it wash day?"

"it can be—"

"no."

your giant, typically intimidating boyfriend pouts. he actually pouts at you.

"you're being unfair."

you scoff, "you're the one who said you had a very strict schedule you had to stick to or else!"

"that was before! this is now!"

"that doesn't even make sense!"

he groans again, practically melting into your shoulder now as he wraps his arms around you.

"you better give me the best goddamn cuddles in the world tonight," he says.

"i always do. now go."

your sweet, lovable, needy boyfriend pecks your lips once, twice, countless times all over your face before he finally heads off to the bathroom.

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sakusa kiyoomi, bokuto koutarou, iwaizumi hajime, matsukawa issei, tendou satori, your faves