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you're pregnant?!

the jjk men find a positive pregnancy test in your bathroom (plot twist: it's not yours)

tws: breeding kink ; p in v ; pregnancy kink ; daddy kink

a/n: istg i just love to write sukuna, he's such a fun character to me

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MEGUMI FUCKING HIS DAD’S GIRLFRIEND!!

Tw- Cheating, Megumi is twenty n reader is a bit older. Not Proofread

⊹ ｡ ﾟ⁖✦

Something about Megumi passionately pounding you into the mattress that you and Toji shared while he’s away for a mission makes me soo horny

Both of his hands are firmly squeezing the back of your thighs—keeping them pressed against your bouncing tits while he’s plummeting his stiff cock deeply into your stimulated, used pussy. His mushroom tip nudging against your g-spot sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your entire body, which is by no means difficult for him to find because ohh, he knows you and your pretty pussy sooo well.

He’s remaining eye contact with you, with a dark twisted grin plastered on his face. Pride swelling in his chest knowing he’s splitting open his dad’s girlfriend’s little pussy in half with his cock while you moan and cream around his shaft.

It’s such an accomplishment to him.

“Fuckk You’re such a pathetic whore, y’know that baby?” He groans grumbly, with a hint of laughter and amusement, watching as your brows furred together cutely, as you pouted. “M-not a whore!” You muttered defeatedly, guilt washing over you as you broke eye contact which made him laugh as it echoed in the room, piercing through your defense—he brought one of his hands up to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Awe baby, look at me while I ruin this pretty little pussy, no need to be shy—don’t worry, I love cock starving whores like you—ones that cheat on their boyfriends with his son while he’s away. Soo pathetic” he says in a mocking sardonic tone, making both your eyes and pussy leak with shame and guilt.

“Fuckk that’s it, this hungry pussy is sucking me in so well, fuck you're so tight and wet, all f'me” he moans out like a horny teenager.

His fat, swollen tip expertly brushes against your most sensitive area, hitting it precisely with each vigorous movement of his hips, bullying his cock into you like it has a mind of its own. Your eyes roll back in pleasure, drool steeping out of your mouth and pussy as your brain grows foggy.

The familiar sensation building up in the pit of your stomach, making you mewl as he trails his hand down and lightly brushes his thumb across your clit, his touch tracing gentle but fast circles on the sensitive bud.

“Mmm, are you gonna cum baby? Gonna make a mess on your stepson’s cock? Fuck, such a little horny slut, what would your boyfriend think if he found out his slut of a girlfriend is about to cum on his son's dick?” He chuckles mischievously, his deep, husky laugh resonating in the room, as he slowly brings his thumb up to lick the slick building up on it, a low groan escaping his lips as he savors the taste of you before returning to teasing the bundle of nerves—helping you towards your pleasure.

You moaned out pathetically, you can’t lie, Megumi was so much like his dad in bed, it drove you crazy. Whether it was the way he dominated your tight pussy with his cock or his rough demeanor. He was Toji’s son, alright.

“Gumii, m’gonna cum! please, fuck! s’good, please don’t stop”. You begged, desperately holding onto his forearm for support. His hips buckled against you so eagerly, so desperately to feel you cumming on his cock. He licks his lips in anticipation—watching your pretty tits bouncing in syne, accommodating his powerful thrusts into your dripping pussy.

"Don’t plan on stopping baby—Fuckkk” he groaned, putting both of your legs over his shoulders and folding you into a mean mating press. Gradually descending, moving down, down, down into you to the point where your knees are almost touching your ears, The close proximity allowed his minty breath to trace across your face, mingling with the heat radiating from his body and the sweat that glistened as it dripped from his tousled hairline onto you.

The new angle of penetration had his cock drilling deeper into you, making you see stars as your release washes over you. “Fuckfuckfuck Megumiii” you cried out, your nails instinctively gripping his toned biceps, causing him to hiss with a mixture of pleasure and pain as he leaned in closer, pressing his forehead against yours. Your pulsating hole fluttered uncontrollably as you came around his cock. You both breathe heavily, he sticks his tongue out—licking the tears leaking from your eyes as you felt his cock twitching inside of you. Your release was enough to make him cum right on the spot.

“Yesyesyes—fuck yes!, love this pussy so much hah! M’gonna cum, fucking take ittt” he moaned in a breathless whisper against your ear. The room echoed with both of your needy moans and the loud sound of his fat balls slapping against the curve of your ass.

You bit your lip as you felt his balls draining into your little stretched pussy, his seed spurting deep into you as he continues fucking it further and deeper into you. At this point, you both were so utterly fucked out. His warm semen began to overflow, cascading out of your pussy and trickling slow and steady onto your sensitive asshole, and onto toji’s bedsheets.

His body collapsed onto you as he tenderly nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his erection nestled within your already overfilled pussy to cockwarm him.

You squealed at the heavy weight of his body crushing yours so suddenly as you combed your fingers through his hair and that was one of the main differences between Megumi and Toji, Megumi is always so soft with you after he fucks you because he’s always gets fucked out as much as you do after sex whereas toji, he can control himself and maintain his dominance and doesn’t show any ounce of weakness.

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HIDE N FUCK?!!

SYNOPSIS - A quick game of hide n seek quickly turns into a nasty game of hide n fuck with your step-brother Megumi

Tw - Prone bone, stepcest, they fuck in the attic, degradation, praising, spiting, dirty talk, creampie, choking, breeding kink, Reader is 19 n Megumi is 21, They aren’t blood related. They got caught :0, they may be some grammar errors!! Please do not interact if this isn’t your cup of tea!! MDNI!! Oh he is Toji’s son alright.

Kinktober List ԅ(°Д°ԅ)

You didn’t think the day would come where you get to relive a cherishable childhood memory of playing one of your favorite games of all time. Playing a game of hide and seek with Megumi and his cousins—a game you never thought you’d play again considering the fact that you were 19 and what people would describe as "too grown" to be playing childish games like that but fortunately, some of Megumi’s family from his dad's side came over for a small family reunion so that’s what led to the evocation.

You sighed in disappointment after finding a well concealed spot to hide in the crowded attic—behind some large boxes in the corner that has been collecting dust for probably years now, just to be raided by Megumi, who joined you.

It was a pretty clandestine hiding spot but now the chances of getting caught has increased even more because it’s been proven to you throughout the years in your childhood that you’ve played the game that you're most likely to get caught quicker if someone else was hiding with you.

But soon enough all those apprehension flew right past your head once you were being fucked hard into oblivion by Megumi— he’s basically mounting you, his larger frame almost crushing your back as you lay on your stomach. Your ass arching up a bit to accommodate the amelioration of the angle. His curved dick sliding in and out of your gushing cunt with ease every time he humps himself into you. His pelvis slapping against the fat of your ass so lewdly, causing the flesh to jiggle like jello against him. Literally, all that could be heard were his loud breathing and occasional groans, your pathetic moaning and babbling a bunch of god knows what, along with the constant sounds of his meaty balls thwacking against your puffy clit—that’s practically wet and dripping with slick. It was actually so fucking nasty how wet you were, coating and drooling all over his cock with your aroused slick as your snugged pussy enveloped his mean cock.

“Fuck you hear how soaked she is for me? Such a little slut. You don’t care what the situation is, you just wanna get your little hole stuffed and fucked like a horny bitch, is that right?” his deep voice rasped against your ear, it was pretty hilarious to you that he was saying that when he was the one groping you from behind and kissing your neck while rubbing his hard bulge into your ass with your skirt hauled up just seconds after he joined you—basically the one to initiate what was happening in the first place. You weren’t even surprised though, Megumi always had a thing for sneaky fucking—An exhibition freak.

You moaned out like brainless slut, placing one of your hands on Megumi’s right hand, which is balled up into a fist to ground himself at the sides of your head. He was so close to you that you could smell the delicious scent of his cologne—sweet and minty, wafting straight into your nostrils, making your mind hazy.

“Gumiii” you whined, feeling your brains getting fucked out that you're just babbling nonsense at the point. “Hmm? What is it baby” he moved his head closer to yours, licking a long stripe on the side of your neck that sent shivers down your spine. "We need to ngh—Hur-ry, or we’ll get cccaught!” You yelped suddenly, biting your lips when you felt two of his lengthy fingers toying with your nipple, tugging and pinching the hard bud.

“Oh yeah? Then I guess you’ll just have to be a good girl f’me and be extra fucking quiet or would you rather let everyone see and hear you getting fucked dumb and stupid by your stepbrother’s cock?” His deep voice whispered in your ear, a tiny smirk plastered on the corner of his face that immediately made your pussy clenched even harder around his girth, Your jaw dropped as his cockhead kissed your cervix, making your eyes roll back in your head. It’s like every time he fucked his cock deeper and deeper into you, your mind goes clumsy and you turn into a brainless zombie.

There’s no way any one couldn’t hear the loud thumping noises and loud moans coming from the attic—there’s no way fucking way but by the way Megumi was being an arrogant lil shit and stretching your little pussy open with his cock so brutally to accommodate his size like this, making you moan uncontrollable as if he wants someone to hear and get caught, he doesn’t seem to give a shit.

“Fuckk wish I could suck on those pretty tits” he murmured as he fondled with your breast, groping and squeezing the soft flesh as you shiver slightly because of his cold hands. He quickly lets go and wraps his big hand over your throat, angling your head to look up at him, a dark glint beaming in his eye with a tiny smirk as he eyed your fucked out face. He watched as your face distorted in pleasure, his thick cock twitching in your pussy knowing that he was the reason for that. You opened your mouth, acquitting a loud pornographic moan, Megumi used that as a perfect opportunity to corrugate his lips, a loud “pff” sound ringing in your ears as you felt a thick substance hitting your tongue. “Swallow it now” he ordered nonchalantly, dark blue eyes piercing into your soul. You did as you were told and swallowed his spit, opening your mouth after to prove it to him.

“Mmm That’s a gooddd girl, fuckk this pussy s’good, imagine if I blow my load inside this pretty cunt and fill you up, bet you’d like that yeah? Wanna give your mom and Toji some snotty little grandkids?” He babbles maniacally in your ear as you go stupid, feeling your orgasm approaching.

He noticed. Hand enthralling harder around your neck as he buckled his hips against you roughly, pulling his thick cock out of you just to bully it right back into your tight hole faster knocking loud whimpers out of you. He quickly lets go of your neck, his hand snaking its way to your sticky clit, using three fingers to sloppily rub circles on it without any type of rhythm, if you weren’t fucked so dumb right now you might’ve actually had a chance to recognize the messy spelling of his name rubbing onto your clit. “Fuckkk—look at this greedy little pussy squeezing my cock like this, you gonna cum? You really gonna make a mess on your step-brothers dick? Fuck you’re suchhh a little slut, baby. He laughed while moaning, feeling your pussy milking his cock for his own release. Fuck he really is considering fucking a baby into you at this point, your pussy was driving him crazy. His eyes rolled to the back of his head so pathetically as you screamed his name, feeling your hole spasming around his length as you squirted on his cock and all over the floor. Wet squelching noises achoing against the thin wooden walls as he fucked the liquid out of you, steams of your pussy juice heaving everywhere.

“Shitt you squirted??Oh fuckfuckfuck, What a dirty bitch” he gritted his teeth, almost losing his mind. Oh he’s trying his best to hold onto the small amount of sanity he has left as his cock molds your hole perfectly, his thick girth sliding into your pussy painfully fast because of your wetness. His mean tip grazing against your g-spot perfectly that it made your toes curl. You can feel literally feel how much his cock was twitching and beating against your fluttery walls, His eyes screwed shut as he emptied his balls into your messy pussy, cum overflowing and pooling everywhere as he shot ropes of his seed into your womb.

“Holy fuckkk yeah you’re definitely hah—carrying my kid, woman” he groaned loudly, stilling himself inside of you for a bit to catch his breathe before picking himself up from your back to rest himself on the back of your thighs, his eyes fixated on the mess between your thighs. He bit his lips, slowly slipping his cock out of you as he watched as your mixed cum leaks out of you. You whined lowly feeling so stuffed full yet so empty at the same time without Megumi’s cock. You body fully collapsed on the floor, you were so fucked out you couldn’t even process anything as he slowly spread your cheeks, getting a better view of your ruined hole before slapping his dick on your cunt, he let it a low “fuck” as your juices splattered on him.

“Such a messy bitch” he muttered with low grunt, Slapping his soaked cock on your cheeks.

“Best little step-sister aren’t ya?” He smirks. About to open his mouth to speak again before the attic door flew open, causing the two of you to jolt unexpectedly—both eyes shooting open toward the source.

“GOT YAA-“ Yuji’s eyes quickly widen, mouth visibly dropped at the lewd scene in front of him. A horrific expression plastered on his face. Oh boy.

[spltbtch]

nowhere to run

art in the banner is from @/woshihedawei on x

pairings - Yandere CEO! Sukuna x Assistant F! reader

summary -You can't wait to give your boss your two weeks notice, and he's furious when you do. He's awful to you, mean, cruel and a conceited dick. You jump at the chance to move on, but then your life falls apart. Your car quits working, you lose your chance at the Gojo corp, and your landlord kicks you out! You're left with no choice but to take Sukuna up on his offer to let you stay with him. You soon find out there's more to him - like a psychotic obsession with you.

warnings - Sukuna is a full yandere, dark subject matter, stalking, videoing against consent, sexual tension, mind games, masturbation (m and f), cunnilingus, facefucking, smacking, thigh riding, degradation, obsession, toxic dynamics, Sukuna is psychotic reader is damaged, manipulation, jealousy, choking, creampie, hints of somno, toxic red flag, MEAN ass Sukuna, fucks all your good sense </3

Today is my one year on Tumblr! ahhh I can't believe it's been a year, thanks to all of you who follow me. <3 enjoy the freaky ahh oneshot! WC- 12.5k

Sukuna scoffs as he watches you from his office window, leaning back with his legs spread wide, fingers steepled together, his black nails reflecting the canned lights above. His office is dark despite the floor to ceiling windows, because he enjoys having privacy.

Especially when he's jerking off to you.

You're giggling right in front of a fucking water cooler, he can't make the shit up. His employee, Takuma Ino, is flirting out right with you, and apparently your slutty ass enjoys it. Twirling your hair around your fingers, sipping on that paper cup, his hand brushes against your upper arm.

Sukuna is fucking furious then, no one should get to touch you, your perfect body should be his and only his, how dare anyone think it's acceptable to come near you. You don't even know how he feels, because Ryomen Sukuna is playing a long game.

He wants to make sure you desperately need him, just as he needs you. Jerking his cock every night when he could fuck whoever he wants, watching you in your little apartment on cam knowing you'd be so much happier in his penthouse.

Sukuna knows you'd be so tight, so wet and pretty. He has seen you enough through the fuzzy video cam he has hidden on your dresser to watch you finger yourself. You're always getting frustrated, rushing to get your vibrator, as if you're waiting for his fingers.

The problem is, you hate Sukuna currently, you despise him so much he fears his games were too effective. The way your jaw sets, your eyes narrow when you look at him? It's enough to make anyone cry damn near, but all it does is make it harder under his slacks.

He buzzes you, over and over when you reach your desk, until you scowl at him through his glass window, the blinds filtering light across you while you sit at that desk. Pretty pink dress on you, one he aches to shove up your hips, wrinkle it under his hands and fuck you stupid.

He grins, a sadistic fucking smirk when you come to his office now. “Mr. Sukuna, how can I help you?”

“Hmm, I seem to have…” He shoves off stacks of papers then, raising a slutty eyebrow at you. If you had no self respect, and no boyfriend, maybe you'd fuck your frustrations out on this complete dick of a man. As it stands, he waits for you. “I dropped my folders, bend down and pick them up.”

Your jaw clenches, breath quickening with your anger, you can't wait to see his annoyingly attractive face when you let him know you're quitting. You make so much money, but nothing is worth how this dickhead treats you.

“Pick. Them. Up.” His plump lips curl up. You sink to your knees, clad in black stockings, struggling to hold your composure and not cuss him the fuck out. You gather the papers and he just looks at you, ruby eyes glinting, while he runs a hand through pink locks.

“Mr. Sukuna…” You stand now. Leaning forward you set them on his cherry wood desk, one he dreams of bending you over on. He raises that brow again, infuriating you with his arrogance.

“Hmm. What is it?” Sukuna eyes your red lip stain, imagining smearing it with the pink tip of his cock. Imagining fucking your throat so good you can't fucking talk, maybe then you wouldn't flirt with some boy.

“I'm putting in my two weeks notice.”

Sukuna blinks then, before his dark brows lower, his hands gripping the desk, black painted nails almost scratching it with the force. “The fuck you just say?”

You take a breath, even you get intimidated by the huge ass boss of yours at times. But you hold firm, hands in front of your lap while his gaze burns you. “I quit. I'm giving you two weeks notice as a courtesy.”

“The fuck!?” Sukuna stands now, looking down at you, so tall your head falls back to maintain eye contact. “You're gonna get paid this good and leave!?”

You raise a brow right back at him, crossing your arms now. “Sure am, nothing is worth having to work for you anymore. Even if I love everyone else here.”

“Tch, fucking bet you do love that boy all stupid over you,” you scoff, he steps closer, dress shoes clicking against the hardwood floor, closer and closer until you're backed up against a wall. You can’t breathe when he’s this close, a hand on the side of your head, you glare up at him.

“Ever heard of personal space, you psycho?”

“Personal space, huh. Wonder what your problem is, you let that boy kiss you right in front of the office,” he tilts your chin up, you smack his hands off, chest heaving with how fucking furious you are. “Is it because I don't suck up to you like every little bitch boy here?”

“No, my problem is you're a fucking dick, Mr. Sukuna. Respectfully.” You shove at his chest, he snatches a wrist, huge tattooed hands taking it over, making you tremble at the contact. “I'll be gone by the end of the month, or I can leave sooner.”

“Who the fuck are you working for?” He squeezes your wrist bruising, as mean as he is it surprises you even, and worse is your stupid body's reaction to him.

If you had just a little less self respect you'd give into the insane, dumb fucking desire you have. To kneel and suck him, bulge in his slacks clear that he's huge. You shake that evil thought off, along with the fact that how terrifying he is turns you on, you'll chalk it up to daddy issues and bury that shit deep.

He sure would never get to know you even find him anything but disgusting as a human being. “Let go of me.”

“I asked who you're working for, brat,” he's hovering, too tall, too broad, shadows cast across the office just making that presence more looming. “”What, you're too dumb to answer?”

“Brat!? Stupid - this is why I’m fucking quitting. Why do you even care, when you treat me like shit anyway!?”

“Answer me.”

“The Gojo corporation, ya heard of them?” You shove at him again, the big ass man doesn’t move a fucking inch, mean smile on your face when you watch his crimson eyes narrow.

“Then I’ll pay you more.”

“I’m already taking a pay cut, and it’s well worth it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a bunch of work to do, unlike a certain nepo baby CEO.”

“Nepo baby!? And you’re working for the Gojo corp?”

“He seems sweet,” Sukuna’s teeth grit together, you shove him hard once more and he steps back, allowing you to move past him, only for him to wrap an arm around your hips, tugging you against him. “HR complaint too, Sukuna?”

“Like you don’t enjoy it,” you don’t move for just a minute, you do enjoy being against his body, turning your head to give him daggers from your eyes, he cups your chin, body too hard against you, cologne smelling too good, filling your nostrils, your senses. “You’re really leaving me? What if I double your salary?”

“Nothing is worth one more fucking day of you.” He scoffs and lets you go, his hands clenching into fists when you stand by the door, turning to him. “If you wanna keep a good assistant, maybe don’t treat her like shit. Two weeks.”

You slam his fucking door, it echoes when you stomp out, it’s not too surprising to anyone considering you frequently get furious at him – in fact he loves to make you mad, see your pretty face all flushed, pretty tits in those blouses rising as your breath quickens. However this time, you’re just fucking done with him.

He punches the wall right next to him, the one he just pressed you against, so furious that you think you have any choice, that you can ever be away from him. He can’t lose you before he has you, before you need him and him only. It’s fucking every single thing up. The plaster cracks, cream white left just a bit red from the blood on the backs of his knuckles, and Sukuna sees red.

You’re not fucking going anywhere.

****

“Are you alright, honey?” Ino asks, when he takes you home, your car is stuck at the mechanic for a week. You nod, and he places a hand over your thigh, the other on the wheel. “You’re doing the right thing.”

“Maybe you’ll follow me?” You tease, he smiles shyly, it’s very new, you two have just kissed and had a couple dates, but you love him around, especially with your complete dickhead of a boss in your life.

“I absolutely could follow you over, work would be so boring without you.”

“Takuma… that’s really sweet.” He parks the car, leaning over to plant a kiss on your lips.

You hate how horny that psycho, pink haired dick of a man gets you, and you want to wash away every thought of him, toxic ones that you will never even let your brain actually think of. Just stupid fucking flashes of the most toxic hate sex with him, slapping his stupid face then getting railed by him.

Fuck that.

Psycho who calls you stupid!? You’re well past your attraction to toxic ass men with mental issues. Hence, the sweet boy next to you, with soft brown eyes and glossy lips, brushing your hair back.

“You’re tense,” Ino mentions, gently running a hand up your spine. “Need me to rub your back?”

“I’d love that, do you wanna come inside-”

“Yes!? I mean, yes. I mean… continue?” You giggle a bit, he’s pretty adorable really.

“Come on,” it’s getting a little dark already, the sky pinks and purples, when you unlock the door to the home you’re renting. When you shut the door behind you, he does just that, he actually rubs your neck, then lower, lips kissing across your neck. “Mnh…”

“Is this okay?” He asks softly, you nod, eyes shutting at the mix of his hands and his kisses –  leading to the bedroom soon, he’s lifting you up and carrying you inside there, while you giggle – having no clue you’re being watched.

Oh but Sukuna is watching you.

He watches you every night, typically with his cock in his hand – a desperate, pathetic mess you make him, and he fucking hates you for it, for doing it to him. Just for you to be an ungrateful brat and quit, but now you’re inviting someone in your room, when he’s already jerking it to your moans!?

“You little fucking slut,” he scowls when he watches the sight unfold on the little fuzzy camera, the one he’d slipped on your dresser that’s covered in stupid fucking squishmellows. “You better not even get fucked right now.”

Sukuna had set the camera one day when he’d dropped off your check due to a ‘banking error’ as if he hadn’t watched you in front of the window for months before, you love to undress and even dance in front of your curtains. Like a dumb whore just waiting for someone to stalk you, hurt you, Sukuna wants to make sure no one does, no one ever hurts the girl who he’s tragically fucking obsessed with.

The obsession is so intense it physically hurts, since the moment he saw you when you started. You’re too pretty, too perfect, haunting his every thought, ruining him so he can’t even look at another girl. He attempted to at first, just to make you jealous, flirt with a few of the CEOs that would come in for meetings, but you didn’t even look his damn way.

Nothing worked on you, so he diverted to actively pissing you off, wanting to work you up until he drove you crazy, but it was just fucking backfiring. Now, watching this boy kissing down your neck, pressing you against your bed. His nails press into the wood of his desk so much he leaves scratches, almost crushing the wood with his grip, contemplating just showing up honestly.

If he had to watch you get fucked, he’d ruin you when he finally got you, fuck you until you’re a sobbing mess, begging him to stop. But, he wouldn’t no fucking chance would he take it easy – he would never even let you leave his penthouse once he fully lured you in. Escape would not be any sort of option or thought in your pretty head.

His thoughts drive him mad when your moans are so loud he can vividly hear them, he shuts his eyes, picturing it’s for him. But you wouldn’t just moan softly, no Sukuna would have you stuttering, drooling, screaming out. He hates that it still gets him throbbing, hearing you like this, determined then to make sure you wouldn’t even get to leave him.

Sukuna yanks out a letter hand written by you - your resignation letter you smacked on his desk before you left, grinning then, taking out a pen and a blank paper. He damn sure was not letting you work for Gojo, and he was going to make sure you would need him, it was really for your own good.

“Ino,” Sukuna is gonna fucking kill you. “Mnh!”

Is this boy fingering Sukuna’s girl!?

You’re surprised at his skill, while he’s slipping his fingers down your slit, bracing himself on one arm as he does. “Does that feel good?”

You nod quickly, he finds your clit in just a moment, rolling in torturous circles that have you trembling, thighs on either side of him spread. His lips are sweet against yours, just enough pressure, the pressure just enough to send those signals to your brain. You’re not one to exactly fuck around with new boyfriends, but you’re so on edge, and he’s hitting everything you need.

You’re running your hand down, running fingers over his bulge, watching him gasp when you do, his finger slipping in your hole now. “Mnh, there, fuck…”

“Th-there?” He slides it deeper, pressing up, you nod quickly, cunt gushing while Sukuna is ruining your life from the comfort of his office.

“There, ah! More, please.” Ino’s gentle when he slips a second finger inside, tugging on your top and kissing your breast, rutting your hand – and then – Ino comes in his pants. “Oh…”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he rests his head on yours, breathless. “You’re too wet, and too sexy…”

“No, god don’t apologize, it’s quite a compliment.” You smile and brush his hair back, while Sukuna is snorting in laughter.

If you saw him, you’d scowl, smack his arrogant face, he’s slapping his thigh with tears in his eyes – he didn’t even have to interrupt you by triggering your alarm system, that was his plan once he was done with the letter. What luck, he thinks, that fingering you made that poor boy cum, he’s running off to clean up, and you’re sitting there with your thighs spread on that bed.

He wonders how good it is, to have that fucking effect. Wouldn’t happen to him, but it makes him curious, staring at you when you whine out, rubbing your slit for just a moment before tasting yourself. He couldn’t have even pictured it, how sexy and slutty the action is, you sucking your arousal off your pretty little fingers, before pressing your thighs together.

Sukuna’s aching now, settled back down to watch you – you’ve reduced him to this, a pathetic man who just does this rather than fucking anyone, being with anyone. How can he when you exist, fucking his brain up with how pretty you are when you’re mad at him, and now you’re acting like a whore.

And it just makes him eager for the moment he’ll ruin you.

He bets you’ll talk so much shit before your throat is fucked raw, and then you’ll only have a hoarse little whisper left. He smirks as he watches you step out of the room, presumably to walk Ino out, maybe make him feel better. Sukuna is already working on a severance package for him, multitasking truly, because he damn sure couldn’t stay here around Sukuna’s girl.

His, all his.

“Ino, it’s fine, really. I had a lot of fun.” Ino’s brows draw together, slipping his hand across your cheek.

“I didn’t get you off, do you want me to?”

“You’re so sweet, you can next time.” He sighs, still clearly embarrassed with a flush of his cheeks, but you really love his sweetness, especially when you have to deal with Ryomen Sukuna every day. “Promise, we’ll continue this later.”

“All right, good night pretty.” You giggle and give him a kiss, leaning against the door when you shut it, left in the quiet of your home. You walk into your room, busting out the vibrator in the dresser, along with the lubricant, slipping off your shorts and laying back in the bed.

You loved to play with yourself before bed, but especially now, when you could think of anything other than your dickhead, pastel haired boss that you absolutely hate. Shutting your eyes and spreading your legs, bent at the knee, letting the silicon touch your clit, vibrating with the sticky lube, making you whine out.

Now Sukuna can actually stroke himself, you’re all alone, just how he enjoys you, playing with your cunt just for him. He’s leaned back in his chair, the office is entirely silent as he’s the only one here, the quiet times where Sukuna can let his long cock release, slapping his dress shirt with pre. His tip is reddened, leaking the pearly drops he can’t wait to stuff inside your hole.

He’d fill you so good, till you’re pouring him, dripping his milky cum from the soppy little cunt you’re running a pretty red little rose on. He hopes you enjoy it for now, because once you’re his, you’ll never be able to touch yourself again, never play with what is his. He can’t wait till you’re running your cunt on his leg, pathetic and desperate for his touch while he fucks your mouth, the thoughts pushing him over the edge.

He’s murmuring your name, timing his orgasm with yours, grinning psychotically in his dark office, lapping just a bit of his own cum that has spilled onto his fingers,. It drips along the piercing on the underside of his tip, mirroring you. He’s going to have far, far too much fun with you, he muses, he can’t wait to see you crying and begging him to stay.

*****

“What the fuck did you do!?” You’re shouting in his office the next day, he stomps over to where you’re shouting in the open, people are just looking at you two. Though it’s not unheard of for you to lose your shit on Sukuna, he shuts the door quickly, smirking down at you.

“What’s wrong, mad your little fuck toy is out of the office?” You haul back and smack the fuck out of his cheek, leaving your handprint, he glares and presses you against the door, a hand gripping your chin. “Ya really gonna think you can just slap me?”

“Sure the fuck can.” You slap him again, on the other cheek as hard as you can, he grips both wrists and pins them to the wall, chest heaving with his breaths. “Fuck you, Sukuna.”

“You wanna fuck me so bad, don’t you?”

“Hah, you wish I did.”

“Aw, did he not make you cum, little brat?” You gasp now, shoving him off you when he lets go of your wrists.

“You did something to him, psychotic dick. I know you did! He wouldn’t just leave me like that… leave the job like that, just cut off contact, no way.” Sukuna raises one of his slutty pierced eyebrows at you, making you itch to smack that look off again, fingers stinging from the contact.

“I got rid of his position, and gave him a huge severance package and recommendations, I didn’t fucking ask him to leave you,” Sukuna lies right to your face, watching it fall then, you’re blinking back tears he can’t wait to see fall down your cheeks. It’s for your own good, so he can’t feel bad about it. “Why would I?”

You blink rapidly, wracking your brain now, he watches the gears turn with a sick satisfaction. “I don’t… I don’t know…”

“You’re leaving, anyway right? Why do I care if you fucked-”

“I didn’t fuck him, not that it’s any of your business. We just started dating and I…” you trail off again, your lip trembling, Sukuna lets you go then, just standing there, looming over you. “Why’d you let him go suddenly?!”

“I planned it,” he’s watching you start to believe it, barely hiding back his smirk now. “I didn’t tell him to leave you. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve heard, why do I care who you’re with, tch.”

“Mr. Sukuna…” he’d looked terrified when Sukuna called him in, chuckling at the kid when he handed him the check. “What is all this money?”

“It’s a hell of a severance package,” he walks up to him now, smirking and tilting his head. “And I’ll give you double that if you break up with her.”

“You what now?” His eyes narrow at Sukuna for just a moment, even though Sukuna towers over him.

“Stay. Away. From. Her.”

“She hates you, you know that right?” Sukuna just raises a brow, hands in the pockets of his slacks, leaning even lower, watching him swallow nervously.

“If you’d like to keep all your fucking fingers, stick them inside someone else, she’s not available.”

“How the fuck would you-”

“Take the money. And go. Be smart, it’s way more than you make in a year.” He contemplates it for a moment, sighing then.

“I’m not going to break up with her just because you’re letting me go-”

“Yes, you fucking will,” he slams him on the wall, grabbing him by the collar. “If you’d like to keep intact you’ll break up with her right fucking now.”

“You’re fucking insane!” He rushes off, and Sukuna watches with a devious little smirk when he breaks up with you quietly in a corner of the office.

“Oh.” You’re turning away then, taking a shaky breath, Sukuna loves it, loves watching you lose whatever feelings you had for that boy, that doubt fucking setting in is delicious.

Just one step closer to making sure you can’t leave him.

He’s picturing lifting your pencil skirt up, pressing you against that door, it takes everything not to touch you yet, but you’re just not where he needs you. He puts a hand on your shoulder, almost comforting, giving you just enough caring to make you wonder, to make you look back in shock, even as he remembers exactly what happened this morning with that boy.

He can’t bother to feel guilty for lying when it’s all for your own good, really, you’ll be so happy when you’re his. You won’t work, won’t have to even cook, clean, anything, just be pretty and let him keep you to himself. Your eyes are all glossy with that sheen of unshed tears you’re holding onto, your breaths coming in little huffs.

“Do you need the day off?”

“You’ve never asked me that,” you laugh out meanly, his teeth clenching together. “Now that I’m leaving you’re trying to be somewhat kind? Too late for it, I’m still going regardless.”

You stomp out of the office, furious with him, he’s right though – why would Sukuna want to break you up with Ino? It doesn’t make sense, even if he’s a dick boss and can’t stand that you’re leaving him, what’s a boyfriend have to do with it… it’s not as if Sukuna had some weird interest in you.

But it was so sudden.

He’d looked terrified when he ran out of that office, asking you not to call him or message him, that he needed to get a clean start, that there were no hard feelings. After last night when he’d kissed you like that? You feel emotions welling up, a mix of anger, suspicion, and just being fucking sad.

You’re more determined than ever to get a new start with the Gojo corporation, you’d met the CEO himself, and you were so excited, the pay was really good too. Sukuna’s pay was something you would never find again, but nothing in the world was worth the stress of handling him every day. You should still be able to swing keeping your rent up with your house too.

Things will get better.

*****

Things get worse.

It’s like some fucking dark rain cloud is just following you around and storming all over you, all over everything. A steady domino effect happens that week that makes absolutely no sense. One moment, you’re ready to start a better life – or so you think – only for it to be disillusioned.

A receptionist calls and tells you the position is filled at the Gojo corporation, and that somehow something got crossed. A background check didn’t come in, and they apparently couldn’t get ahold of you. It seemed bullshit truly, but who was this random woman to lie about it?

Then, even worse, your landlord who is usually so sweet and kind, comes over and tells you they’re selling the house you rent, and you have to be out in ten fucking days. You were in shock as they came over apologetically, claiming someone offered them way more than it’s worth, and with cash. You don’t blame them, but now you are completely fucked.

Your parents are out of town, but imagine telling them your situation? Jobless soon since you already put in your resignation, and homeless? How can you even face them or live with them after being on your own since you were eighteen? You can’t just move back at twenty four.

You’re a mess when you’re back at the hell you call Sukuna Ryomen’s corporation, you hate it so much, knowing what you’re gonna have to do. Even if you stay with your family when they’re back in town, you have to have some source of income to get a new place, nothing nearby is even available for rent, so how long would it take?

No boyfriend.

No home.

No job.

And your car is still fucked up!?

You’re close to tears that monday, knocking on Sukuna’s door, the man you slapped in the fucking face last friday. Well, well deserved, sure, but what are the chances he’ll keep you? And if he does, will he make everything worse for you than he already did in the past? All you know, is for at least a few months, you’ll basically be at this shithead’s mercy.

“Come in,” he says gruffly behind the door, you take a breath, opening it and stepping in. He barely acknowledges you as he’s typing away on his keyboard, wearing a pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose. “What is it?”

“I um… well, I um…” You barely hold it together, he closes the laptop then, frowning over at you.

“You’re never at a loss for words, with that mouth,” you should scowl, but you just wanna fucking cry, you feel it coming, cursing yourself – you can’t, especially in front off him of all people! “Shut the door.”

“Right…” You do just that, closing it with a quiet click and leaning against it, eyes fluttering shut, missing his satisfied smirk just long enough for him to fix it. “Mr. Sukuna, um…”

“Um, um, um. Speak, don’t you know how to?” He’s such an ass, you barely can stand not punching him in his stupid face.

But he pays stupidly well.

“I need to keep my job.” You whisper, he blinks in surprise, standing up.

“Come here.” He says, almost softly, you step up to him, heels clicking on the polished hard wood, taking several breaths, bracing for his mockery, something fucking mean and cruel.

“Go ahead, say it, I’m pathetic for asking.” He frowns now, you’re just a breath away from him, too close for comfort.

“Why do you want to stay, thought you had the nice cushy Gojo job?” He leans his hip on the desk, crossing those big arms, his dress shirt struggling to stretch over all those muscles.

“I um…” You’re trembling in front of him, eyes welling with tears, and you’re so fucking sexy like this.

You need him.

It’s what he always wanted, you needing him.

“Will you just-”

“I lost the job opportunity,” your tears fall, hot and sticky down your cheeks, making him throb in his pants at the sight. They’re glimmering under the can lights in his ceiling, your red lipstick bitten off in places from your nerves. 

You’re perfect like this.

You’re just one step closer to where he needs you to be.

“I also got kicked out of the place I’m r-renting, a-and I really can’t lose this job now. I know I said I’d quit, but fuck just let me stay for a bit. You can throw your papers on the floor, I just need it, okay?” You gasp when he brushes your tears away almost gently, not smirking, not mocking you.

He resists the urge to lap a tear off his thumb, fully hard at the sight of you so small compared to him, trembling and pathetic really.

It’s perfect.

“You can stay,” you gasp, eyes shooting up to his in shock. “What, think I’m that fucking horrible?”

“Yes, yes I absolutely do,” he scoffs, and you curse, shutting your eyes and shaking your head. “Shouldn’t have said that when I’m asking for a favor.”

“I like that you talk shit, it’s why I pay you so much,” your eyes narrow, irritation flitting in between emotions. He sighs, hands on your arms now. “C’mere.”

“What?”

He tugs you against him then, you wonder if on top of losing everything you’ve lost your mind and are having straight up delusions, his big hand brushing up and down your back. You’re against his chest, tears making his button down wet in spots, struggling to catch your breath.

How can you be comforted by this man, in any way!?

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Holding you, shit what does it look like?” You shake your head, but you don’t move. You hate to admit he feels good, he’s so warm he’s hot, that warmth seeping against you, his big, bulging muscles too comfortable. “You can stay with me.”

“I’ve really fucking lost it. What now?” You sniffle, looking up at him then, he brushes a lock of your hair in a move you can only describe as gentle, it doesn’t fit any of him.

“You’re a good assistant, I know I’m kind of a dick.”

“Kind of!? You’re a horrible, completely terrible, mean ass, conceited shit-”

“Fuck off, I’m trying to help!?”

You bite your inner cheek, heart racing now, pounding in your chest. “Letting me keep my job is nice enough, don’t act weird.”

“Weird, tch,” he tugs you closer, letting you cry more, smiling against your hair as you do. Every tear just makes him want you more. “You can stay with me till you get a place, I have a big ass penthouse, not like we’ll see each other much. Plus, isn’t your car in the shop? I can bring you to work.”

“How do you know that?”

“You don’t wanna stay with your parents, do you?” He avoids the question completely.

“Shit, no.” You sigh, pulling back and swiping those tears, realizing it is your best option. “Are you as much of a dick at home as you are at work?”

“Worse.”

“Then-”

“It’s a joke?” You glare, and he chuckles a bit, his eyes bright fucking red, almost scary when they assess you carefully. “I’ve been too harsh on you, huh?”

“Harsh is an understatement, sadistic asshole fits better,” his scowl deepens, grip still firm on your waist even though you’ve backed away. “You really won’t mind me living with you?

“Nah, like I said we won’t even see each other much. I feel a little responsible,” – he literally caused all of it – “I made you wanna leave. So let me at least do something to make it up.”

“Are you in therapy or on meds or some shit? Who are you?”

“You’re such a little fucking brat, ungrateful-”

“Ah, there he is,” you smile, that mean little one even with your tremulous lips, stepping back then. “Well I really have no choice.”

“You’re sounding really thankful.”

“I am, though. I guess I’ll bring some things over tonight if that’s okay?”

“I’ll bring you to your place, we can grab what you need.”

You walk off, then turn around, looking at him and wondering if there’s something more than an arrogant, self entitled dick in there. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, get back to work, you’re slacking.” You roll your eyes as you walk out of his office, and he can’t stop his grin from spreading.

*****

You thought you’d hate living with Sukuna, even if he has a fancy decked out penthouse, with cleaners making sure it was immaculate. You don’t know what you expected, some pretentious bachelor pad with nothing but beer and no food in the fridge? He’s in his mid thirties and since, which raises every red flag along with his horrible personality.

Surely some sugar baby would deal with him or something, he’s that attractive really, some people could probably get past how much of an asshole he was. Yet, he’s alone, you don’t see him talk to any women the first week you’re there at all, and it almost gets comfortable, driving back to his place together, cooking dinner and then bitching about idiots at work.

Fuck it’s almost domestic?

Sukuna is still a dick at work, sure, but he’s eased up a bit, he’s actually said a praise or two which he never has, and at home he’s quite kind, even intelligent. Coming off like a nepo baby airhead, he surprises you more with just how smart he is, when he’s typing away at that computer working some finances, while some science show is on his big ass tv.

Sukuna’s almost a little nerdy, especially with those glasses. He walks around shirtless, that shithead, and that really fucks with you more than you’ll admit. You figured he had a good body judging by how his suits fit, but nothing really prepared you for waking up and seeing him completely bare aside from some boxer briefs that hugged a rather caked out ass.

He was cooking this morning, making what smelled like bacon and eggs, scrambling them around when you wake up, yawning. One week and you haven’t killed each other, in fact as you’re staring at the black tattoos across his back, he turns his head a bit to look back at you.

He’s unfairly attractive, that conceited ass smile plastered on his face when he looks back at you. “Checking my ass out?”

“Hah, not even, I’m just tired and want coffee,” you’re next to him then, arms brushing against each other when he looks down at your body. “Are you staring at my tits?”

“Yes.”

“The fuck,” you shove at him and he chuckles, almost playfully, you can’t stop your nipples from tightening at the gaze, at his laugh. Fuck it’s almost pleasing, making you hate him more. “Pervert.”

“Says you,” he reaches across and turns on the coffee maker for you, it heats up with a whir. “Wanna eat?”

“You’re making me breakfast?” You ask, pulling out a coffee pod, Sukuna barely hides his erection when he fully gets a look of what you’re wearing, some thin little crop top and shorts that barely cover your ass.

You look slutty, tits half out, almost the entirety of those thighs bare, thighs he’d die to have one either side of his face. That makes him angrier, the amount he wants to pleasure you, worship you, and because of your bratty attitude he has to wait. You look like you need his cock inside you.

He wants to give you what you need, it’s torture to jerk it next to you every night, when you’re a room away, but he knows damn well you don’t need him that badly yet. But you’re getting there, he can almost inhale the scent of your arousal, so sweet like the panties he buried his face in last night.

He despises you for reducing him to that, to lapping your sticky arousal from them, and they were coated in your slick. Despite you acting fine, you were clearly wet around him, your nipples poking out of your top and drawing his gaze, his wide grin, you cup them then, gasping.

“Don’t stare dickhead, I’m just cold!”

“Sure you are, they like me, at least.”

“They so do not.” He smirks, and you struggle to focus on anything other than wanting him to throw you on that counter.

Stupid.

It’s stupid.

One week of being a semi decent human being doesn’t eliminate everything he’s put you through. “I’ll eat some.”

“Good girl.”

“Yuck, never mind.”

“Fucking brat,” he scowls, and you can’t stop a little giggle, the first he has ever heard from you, he grips the spatula so hard it bends. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it does look yummy though.”

“Then sit down, I’ll bring you some.” You both fall into a comfortable silence, eating side by side, he’s peering at his laptop while you’re poking at your phone, knees brushing under his pretty white bar. He leans over and swipes a bit of coffee off the corner of your mouth, and that’s when you pause.

He’s not touched you like that, your couple of interactions were slaps, and then that weird hug he tugged you into. But this week he’s made sure not to, and when he does, you ache, desire ruining your brain chemistry. You stare at him with dilated eyes when he brushes his thumb across your lips, watching the plush of it gently move, knowing what it’s doing to you.

He knows your cunt is pulsing around nothing, knows what his eyes are doing while they look down at you. He knows how to push you over that edge until you beg for him, or so he thinks. You pull back and smack at his hand, he clenches his teeth, about to bend you over and beat your ass black and blue, but he can’t. He has to make you want him, not just need him.

“Weirdo.” You stick your tongue out, he scoffs at you, back to watching the news on his screen, and you run to the bathroom when you’re done.

You can’t help but reach down and find your cunt slick.

Fuck Ryomen Sukuna.

*****

It’s been two weeks now, Sukuna lets you sit on the couch and you two actually watch movies together, you sit out on the balcony with him and drink his ridiculously expensive vintage of wine. It’s peaceful almost, he’s quiet and doesn’t talk too much shit, and you unfortunately find yourself enjoying him, wanting him more and more despite your mind knowing that’s the dumbest idea.

Do you just want to get fucked, are you just horny and he’s hot? But how can you ever want someone who was that awful? It’s almost hard to remember, sitting next to him tonight, eyes getting heavy, you rest your head on his shoulder before you think better of it, feeling him tense.

His hand is on your thigh, you’re shifting your hips, dying for him to just touch you. You see the way he looks at you now that you live with him, you’ve seen the bulge in his boxers in the morning, hear how he catches his breath, notice the dilation of his eyes. You know he wants you, but he makes no move ever, the hand not inching the tiniest bit higher.

You sure the hell would never ask him, it’s dumb to even be open to it, but the more you’re around his psychotic ass, the more your body reacts so stupidly. You can only chalk it up to so many issues and a massive need of therapy, perhaps you’ve just been consuming too much hate sex smut, and it’s altering your brain.

But you want it.

You shift again, closer now, pretending you’re falling asleep, thighs spreading just a bit, some insane part of you wonders if he’d touch you in your sleep. He inches his fingers just a bit higher, you bite back a gasp, keeping your eyes fluttered shut, hearing the quiet click of the remote now as he turns off the show. He brushes back your hair for a moment, rather than what you need.

His fingers inside you.

His mouth on you.

What the actual hell is wrong with your mind you don’t know, inhaling that expensive scent, more and more alluring with every breath you slowly take, feigning sleep while he runs a finger across your jaw line. You bury your face against his neck now, breathing heavier, he pauses, unmoving then, until he shakes you just a bit.

“Gonna drool on me, brat?” You pull off now, scoffing and going to stand with a yawn.

“Sorry for being sleepy, dick.”

“Tch…”

When he grips your wrist with long, thick fingers that you keep wondering about. You wonder if they’d hit your cervix, those black painted nails against your skin, leaving marks. You’re so done with his bullshit, the push and pull, one moment acting kind enough that you wonder if you’re wrong, then the next snapping, being a whole psycho – and the entire time making you throb with need every time he’s close to you.

“Come drool on me then, if you’re gonna be all pouty about it,” he gives you a mean little smile. You tug away, freeing your wrist, seeing marks he leaves from just that touch. You wonder if he’d leave them all over your body. “Going to bed?”

“Sure am.” He chuckles like the asshole he is, you stomp off and sigh, resting your head on the door.

He’s trying to tease you, it’s so obvious to you then, when you hear quiet moans and huffs next to your room. Like he’s wanting you to cave, to desire him, but you sure the hell would never give him that satisfaction. You’re undressing when you see it then, a little small black tube, and then it all starts to hit you.

Is this pervert watching you!?

He knew about Ino, he knows too much.

That should scare you, really, but instead you undress right in front of that camera, ever so slowly, letting your tits bounce. You hear his moans get just a bit louder, hiding your smile when you lay on the bed, holding your phone and texting a guy back who asked you out. You proceed then to touch yourself, moaning loudly the name of the date.

“Oh, Suguru, oh!”

Sukuna pauses, dick in his hand, almost crushing the phone he’s watching you on now, his jaw tensing as you say some other dudes fucking name!? Not even the boy you dated – why is he so desperately in love with such a mean, evil thing really? He should go in there and beat your ass, fuck you so good all you know is him, but it would just fuck everything up.

He flings his phone across the room, all while you’re in the other room getting off to the thought of making this stalker furious.

*****

You certainly can’t stay here much longer with Sukuna.

One, he’s a psycho.

Two, he’s a dick.

Three, you want to fuck him.

All of that together pushes you to start peering at places, there is a brand new condo building that’s just constructed, and it’s in your price range. You submit a pre application, then decide to get ready for your date with a handsome man you’d run into last week. Some sick, dark part of you gets off on the idea a cocky ass man like Sukuna is so obsessed he spies.

You wonder the extent of it, honestly, when you step out into the living room in a slinky little black dress, red lips just a little glossy, pretty earrings dangling with your hair done up. You had done a couple little spins to make sure everything looked good, slipping on a pair of red bottom heels, a splurge you’ve never even worn before. All in all, you know you look good.

When Sukuna’s eyes catch you, for a moment his lips part, his heart hammers at how gorgeous you look, but just as quickly, he realizes it’s not for him, and clenches his jaw, narrowing his eyes now when you step closer. You do a little spin and giggle, making him want to throw your ass down on the mattress in his room, and fuck you into it.

Tear your dress into nothing, so you never wear it again, use that pretty silver necklace to choke you until it snaps in half. He can hardly handle just standing there, his ‘unbothered’ act about to fail with what you’re putting him through. Sukuna has never cared about anyone but you, never felt any of this, and yet here you are about to go out with someone else?

He’s read your signals, but the game he’s playing is apparently too slow for you and how needy your cunt apparently is.

He’s furious.

“How do I look, Sukuna? I think I like this dress on me.” You say with a little quirk of your lips, like you know what you’re doing to him.

His gaze dips to your breasts, cupped tightly in that dress, too low cut, fuck he could almost see your nipples if you bend over. And he’d surely see your ass if you did, the shape of it outlined in the little black thin ass material, a pathetic excuse for clothing he’d never let you out in once you’re his.

“Where ya going dressed like that huh?” You scoff, crossing your arms.

“Excuse me? I think I look hot.”

“You look slutty as fuck.” You scowl at him, he walks closer, until your back is pressed against the counter, heart racing. “Shouldn't let you out like that.”

“Would it kill you to just say I look pretty once?” You blink back frustrated tears, because why the fuck do you care what he thinks!? Why do you want him to!? The toxic pull is worse when you feel his body against yours, feel his heat, wanting it to soak into you, even knowing he’s dangerous and terrible.

Sukuna grips your face too tightly, a thick, muscled thigh slipping between your own, you bite back a gasp of pleasure so hard it makes your lip almost bleed, struggling to focus. “You know you're fucking gorgeous, tch. It doesn't change shit about this slutty ass outfit.”

“Oh fuck you,” you grip his wrists, shoving his hands down, just for him to bar you with his arms, thigh pressing higher, making you almost let out that moan threatening to spill from your throat. Your eyes fly to his, unreadable and dilated to almost pure blackness. “I'm going on a date.”

“A date, huh?” You nod, swallowing nervously now.

How dare you show off all that pretty skin. That pretty body that belongs to him and only him!?

“Look like you’re going to a dick appointment.”

You slap the fuck out of him now, his cheek decorated with your handprint, breaths faster and faster, a mix of anger, hatred and being so turned on you’re about to soak his thigh. He can tell, you swear he feels it already, merely grinning and cupping your face now.

“You love to hit me, huh?”

“You’re an ass who deserves to be hit, so yes. So what if it is a ‘dick appointment’ do you not think I have needs?”

“Needs, hmm?” He presses up again, big hands gripping your hips and tugging you down, you can’t bite that whine back even though you try, you curse internally with his satisfied grin. “What exactly do you need?”

“Need someone who wants to get me off,” you shove at his chest even as you rock your hips, he’s throbbing when he feels it – how hot you are, your needy cunt just pressing on him. “Don’t you date, Sukuna? Haven’t seen a girl here.”

“Do you want to hear another girl screaming while I fuck her in the next room?” He’s leaning against you, all six feet something of him imposing while you’re pressed on his chest, his thigh, cunt pulsing around nothing.

“What would I care?” You whisper, chin tilted up to eye him in the face defiantly even as you soak him, trembling thighs and hands just resting on his chest, gripping his shirt. “What if I fucked someone, would you watch me, Sukuna?”

“Would I what now!?” You smile deviously, yanking him down, until he’s dangerously close to your lips, the scent of your perfume flooding his senses, sweet breath minty and cool against his lips.

“Would you watch me, would you get off to that?”

“You think I’m some sicko, huh,” he’s chuckling and pressing his thigh up again, you’re so close from just that it’s dumb, while he slips up your dress, hands gripping the thin material. “Maybe I just worry about you.”

“Hah, worry for me, hmm? Mnh-” His cheeks are flushed red, you feel it – his thick, heavy cock against your waist now, pressing and insistent despite him trying to compose himself.

“I should take you, your car is still in bad shape,” he whispers, you shake your head. “No, what if some weirdo gets you?”

“I’ll be f-fine, I’ll be in by curfew dad.”

“You’re such an insolent-”

“Brat, yeah you say that. Can you get out of my way? I have a date to go to.” He pulls back, and raises a brow when he looks at his slacks, you peer down in horror, seeing the spot glistening with your slick. “I’ll be g-gone soon, too.”

“Leaving huh? Tsk, you’re messy, aren’t you?” He runs his thumb over it now, coating it in the damp, sticky clear arousal, your thighs tremble when he steps forward, taking your chin with his other hand now. “Ruining my thousand dollar slacks?”

“You put your leg there, weirdo - mmm!” Sukuna runs your own juices across your lips like a gloss, smirking as he does it, slipping his thumb between your lips.

“Should make you clean it off,” he murmurs, tilting his head and looking at you like some predator, when you sink your teeth against the pad of his thumb he doesn’t even flinch. “Make you lick it off, on your knees.”

You pause instead of coming back with something, the thought of him making you do it fucking you up, your tummy clenching when he runs his thumb across it again, lapping it off a finger now. His eyes flutter shut, cheeks hollowing, sipping your slick cunt off them, as you watch, lips parted.

“Have fun on your little date.” Is all he says then, walking off and leaving you clenching nothing, clit twitching with how badly she wants friction. You rush out quickly, leaving Sukuna with your flavor sunk in his tastebuds, peering at his phone after a few minutes, tracking your exact location.

As if he wouldn’t watch you.

He has to make sure you act right, going out like that with your cunt teased too, he sure the fuck wasn’t going to let anyone touch you. 

Sukuna watches you from the car window later, dark and tinted just across from the restaurant, you’re sitting right by the window, giggling with your hand in front of your mouth, some tall dude next to you. He assumes it’s the name you moaned last night, your hand is on his thigh, you’re sitting right against him. Sukuna’s hands grip the steering wheel tightly.

He watches you kiss him, plotting just what he’s gonna do when you walk through that door tonight. How is he supposed to hold back when you’re running around and letting other men touch what belongs to him. He scowls at his phone and texts you out of curiosity, you peer at the phone and don’t respond, instead sipping on your glass of wine and throwing your head back.

You’re absolutely done for.

*****

You had way too much fun tonight, you even had a little make out sesh in the car, he’s handsome and sweet and easy to talk to. Knowing you have to go back to Sukuna should fill you with some sense of dread, he’s a dickhead and at this point lives to edge you, he’s clearly watching you – you don’t know the extent – but that all just makes pissing him off more thrilling.

You slip off your heels at the door, stepping into the quietness of the penthouse, it’s completely dark in there, not a light left on, and not a sound. You didn’t expect Sukuna to be up and running around, but the darkness is a little disconcerting, especially with the dizziness from the wine in your blood stream. You blink a bit, reaching for the light switch, when you hear him.

“You’re back, huh?” He walks to you, your eyes adjust to him in the night, his big frame casting shadows when you hit the lights just barely, enough to be able to see him, before he snatches your wrist.

“Yes, I’m back, did you worry about me, Sukuna?” You murmur, leaning close to him, letting him hold them, letting him press you against that door. “That’s so sweet, you care huh? Why are you waiting for me like some creep, anyway?”

“Hah, a creep,” he slides a hand up, yanking out all the pins that have your hair in that pretty updo. You gasp as they clatter to the floor around you, the pins echoing off the hardwood.

“What are you doing?”

He says nothing, so done with you, so furious, ready to fuck your throat till you can’t talk anymore. “What, mad I had fun, want me miserable? Or are you… jealous, imagine, Ryomen Sukuna jealous.”

You run your hand up his chest, little glint in your eyes while he yanks your hair at the roots, so hard you cry out at it. “Get on your fucking knees, now.”

“Excuse me- ah!” He’s pulling harder, a hand on your shoulder pressing you down, you feel his strength along with your tummy clenching with hot need.

“On. Your. Knees.” He orders again, voice gruff as you kneel for him, you glare but you want this. You want to be on your knees, him yanking your hair just makes you wetter, the pain along with looking up at him like this.

The fuck is wrong with you!?

Sukuna undoes his pants now, your hands go to touch his thighs, earning a sharp smack. “Put 'em behind your back, now.”

You do as he says even with a mad little look on your face, cunt already soaked at the thought of his cock in your mouth, hands behind you, fingers entwined, he chuckles now, brushing your hair back. He uses two fingers to tilt your chin up, before going to his belt buckle, your breaths coming faster and faster.

“So you can listen, then,” he taunts you, you go to stand, just to get shoved back down, exciting you more. “Open that mouth, time I put it to better use than you running it, then you kissing other men.”

“You are jealous,” you whisper, he grabs your hair in a ponytail now, pulling until you’re in tears. 

“Jealous of you being a pretty little whore? Don’t scowl, you asked me to call you pretty, didn’t you?”

“Oh, fuck you, mnh…” He pulls your hair harder, yanking your head so you’re forced to look at him when he lets his cock slide out, heavy and thick, two faint blue veins wrapping all the way to his reddened tip that’s just leaking pre

“I said, open your mouth.” You do as he says, mouth open for him, tongue out and ready. “Look, you can behave, can’t you?”

Sukuna drags his tip against your lips, smirking as he smears your lip gloss, balls filling heavy with how much cum he’s ready to pour inside you. Your red tint makes his tip a pretty shade of ruby, before he presses it further, the weight of it right on the tip of your tongue, the barbell cold against the roof of your mouth. You taste him, salty little drops against your taste buds, a whine snapping his control, his teasing.

He shoves his cock deep in your mouth then, dragging your face so he can fuck it, leaving you choking on him, tears in your eyes when he hits your uvula. “That’s it, aww can you not take it all, ya that fucking pathetic?”

You just get wetter the meaner he gets, it’s making you grind helplessly on the heels of your feet pressed against your cunt, he yanks you up. “Ngh!”

“You don’t get any pleasure yet, not after all the shit you’ve put me through,” Sukuna wraps a hand around your throat now, feeling the bulge move underneath your delicate skin. “Know how long I’ve waited for this? To use you, fuck your mouth like the useless little cocksleeve you are.”

He’s lost in your suction, in how you’re taking him, the moans just vibrating against his cock, he’s sucking in a breath when you suck harder, your cheeks hollowed, letting him drag you by the hair, uncaring. Your throat constricts around his cock so tightly, he can only picture how perfect that cunt will feel.

“You’re so desperate,” he whispers. You're lost in the sensations of being used by him, his leg comes between your thigh now, you're rutting against it, whining with need. He gasps out when you suck hard, swirling your tongue around his tip. “You’ll fuck my leg, like some bitch in heat huh?”

You hate him, you hate the need that’s been building for weeks, hate the desperate way he ruts your mouth, you’re choking and gagging, sucking breaths through your nose. You let him use you for his pleasure, let his hands cup your face on either side, while your slick cunt just drips down his leg, seeping against his pants, cunt dying for any pressure, any friction.

“That's it. Throat is so fucking slutty, she wants me to ruin her. Huh? Aw, can't talk, baby?” He fucks your throat now, cursing softly as he thrusts that cock so deep, piercing dragging the roof of your mouth, the cool barbell shockingly different from his burning hot length. “Can’t run your mouth, can’t kiss some random fucking guy now, can you?”

He pulls back with a ragged breath, yanking you up with a hand on your throat, squeezing tightly, lips just a breath away. He’s fucked your throat and not even kissed you. He squeezes tighter, pressure against either side of your jugular, chuckling deeply now while you whimper.

“Could snap your little neck, y’know that?” He whispers, watching your eyes go glossy and black with need. “And you’d like it, wouldn’t you? Want me to just use every fucking hole you have?”

He kisses you, filthy and messy, more intimate than swallowing him, and that’s when he loses it fully, shoving you against the door, cock coated in your spit and saliva, wrapping it in thin gossamer strings. He tastes himself on you, along with the wine you drank, heady and making him almost bust when he pulls back, turning you.

“Let me suck you off, psycho,” you whisper, he chuckles then, teeth sinking into your neck, painful as he rips your dress off. “You dick that was expensive!?”

“I’ll buy you a new wardrobe, fuck you’re stupid, don’t you know what you do to me?” He whispers, needy and desperate himself, his hand slipping around you cup your bare breasts, leaving you in nothing but panties, the remnants of your little black dress around your ankles.

“I know you watch me,” you whisper, looking back at him then, he falters for just a moment, before smirking. “You want to fuck me, then do it.”

“You’re not in control, brat, shut that pretty mouth before I-”

“Fuck it again, I like it.”

“The fuck…” you’re a menace really. “You’re such a-”

“You gonna fuck me or? Need to go to the room and recor-” He’s shoved you forward now, sinking two fingers deep in your cunt. “Ah!”

“This what you been needing, rutting on my leg, on my thigh, making a whole fucking mess? So pathetic and needy, just to have your hole stuffed?” You gasp out, he’s rocking his fingers deep inside while your face is shoved against the door with one of his hands. “That’s it, lemme feel her, already drooling.”

You’re clenching around him, head pressed with his weight, while he scissors those thick fingers in and out. “M’gonna… f-fuck…”

He yanks them out, shoving them in your mouth, pressing your tongue down and groaning with your teeth bite at them. “Should make you beg for it.”

“I’d never, should make you,” he scoffs, tongue licking up your neck, bending over to press the fat tip of his cock against your quivering hole, his free hand turning your face, hovering so big over you then, shadows cast and covering you in darkness, it’s just him, everywhere.

“Only I will ever fuck you, touch you, kiss you,” he sloppily kisses you then, pressing his tip past that tight ring of muscles, pulling back and feeling you gush down him, moaning. “You’re all fucking mine, my pretty little whore.”

“M’not yours - ngh!” Sukuna shoves his cock half way in, you’re struggling to take it, thighs trembling, cock stretched out, all while he watches you.

“Perfect cunt is f’me, jus’me fuckin say it,” he’s groaning when he begins to move, achingly slow yet rough thrusts, slamming you into the door. One of his hands entwines, tattooed and rough, swallowing yours. “Say it, that you’re just a stupid little slut for me.”

“F-fuck you, Sukuna, not yours,” your cunt is gushing arousal, so much he’s moving easier despite the stretch, he’s all bent as you arch your ass more, whining out at the stretch. “Too much!”

“Hah, too much? Don’t tap out, all that talk, all that play, knowing I could fucking see you,” he slams his cock hard against your cervix, you scream out, hoarsely. “Your throat is so sore, isn’t it?”

“Shut up,” you’re lost in him, in his mean thrusts, in his nasty words, he lifts you then, letting your legs dangle in the fucking air, arms wrapping you. “Psycho, put me down!?”

“You can still talk,” he slams his cock inside your hole, using you now, up and down his cock with your body like you’re nothing. “Dumb fucking toy, aren’t you? Is this what you needed?”

You open your mouth to protest, but he’s railing your cunt with sharp thrusts, making drool spill from your mouth, you’re shaking in his hold, he slams you down hard and you shatter, pulsing around him as you cum so hard you can’t fucking see. You’re blinded, blink back fuzzy stars when he yanks out of you, making you whine out at the emptiness.

He unceremoniously sets you on the ground, you wobble, sadistic fucker eats it all up too. “So fucked out you can’t walk? I just started.”

“Back in.”

“If you say you’re mine,” he’s cupping your face so tightly it hurts, his eyes terrifying, voice just a whisper. “Fucking say you’re mine.”

“No.”

“You little…” He picks you up, you cling to him, letting him carry you to his room, he practically flings you on his bed, pressing you into the mattress and lifting your thighs, eyeing your cunt. “It’s perfect, fuck you.”

“Fuck you! Get back in, mnh.” He’s past chuckling and teasing, he’s lost when he sees your pussy, ready to bury himself inside it. He spreads your thighs, leaning over you and sinking inside now, watching your tummy move with him. “You’re too deep.”

“Your slutty hole can take it,” he slams his cock inside, bottoming out as deep as he can go, pushing your thighs up and making you feel the stretch, rolling his hips and looking down at you. “So tight, f-fuck… all mine, shit…”

Your pretty face, drenched in perspiration, lipstick smeared and half missing, mascara streaks down your cheeks.

“You’re a fucking mess, look at you,” Sukuna fucks you deeper, one hand braced next to you, the other under your chin. “Look, I’m fucking ruining you.”

You barely register, looking down and seeing your tummy move now. “Mnh…”

“Can’t run your stupid mouth huh?” You smack him, he pins your wrist, pulsing inside you now, you’re whimpering, whining, a mess as he lays into you. “Going to fuckin’ ruin you for anyone.”

You shake your head, making him laugh, pressing your thighs up until you’re in a mating press, bending in ways you didn’t think you could, just fucking you harder. The loud sounds of the smacking of his thighs on your ass mix with your cunt squelching, his huffs and moans and your breathy gasps, while his cock does wreck you.

It hurts you, stretches you, the skin around his cock burning from it when he pulls fully out, smacking his heavy cock against your cunt. “Say you’re mine.”

“No, f-fuck!” Sukuna’s putting his weight on your thighs, fucking you bruisingly rough now. He’s not holding back anymore, the bed shaking with every thrust, looking down at you with lidded eyes, all black with a ring of ruby.

“If you wanna cum, you’ll say it,” he pauses his thrusts, you shake your head even when his tip presses your cervix, that ring dragging on your spot. “If you want me to keep fucking you like the slut you are, you will.”

“No.” He yanks out of you again, leaving you empty and twitching, smacking your sore cunt. “Ow!”

“You just don’t listen, you just don’t realize you’re mine, have been mine, only mine.” You blink rapidly, shaking your head. “Wanna cum, don’t you? You’re so needy.”

You nod weakly, he smacks your cunt again with a sharp smack that stings, you’re crying out, tears slipping down your cheeks when he does it again. “Mnh…”

“Cunt is all puffy, all fucked up already, bet it I just…” he runs a thumb over your twitching clit, left untouched until now. Your head falls back at it, while he holds your thighs up, running quicker and quicker. “Bet you squirt all over me, huh?”

You shake your head, he shoves his thick cock back in, he needs you too much to keep holding back, needs to ruin you, fill you, mark you his. Sukuna rubs your clit while his fat cock stuffs your hole over and over, harder and faster, you’re twitching, overstimulated quickly, clit sensitive when he presses harder now. You gasp out, so close, making him halt.

“Make me cum, you stalker,” he smirks, slamming into you again, moving your thighs so that they’re up in the air now.

“You love that I watch you, admit it.”

You shake your head, he smirks and leans over you, thumb paused, just sitting on your little clit as it twitches, cunt spasming around his cock. “No it’s w-weird, creepy…”

“You love that I’m fucking obsessed with you,” you shake your head again, he drags his finger up, showing you his sticky, soaked hand. “Admit it.”

“No – g-god!” Sukuna slams into your cunt again, so hard you can hardly handle it, a writhing mess underneath him.

“I have watched you for months, watched you suck your cum off your fingers,” he runs your juices now against your lips, the pressure builds more and more, your breaths coming out in short pants, your nails digging into the bedsheets. “Watched you with that boy, seen you fucking dancing around your room naked.”

“Creep, ngh!” Your eyes roll back in your skull as he slams again, rolling his hips, letting your thighs grip them, hands brutal against your thighs, leaving bruises.

“You’re wetter, you get off on it, huh? Let’s test it,” he kisses up your neck, your ear, whispering in it now. “I stroked my cock just thinkin’ about your cunt, licked you off your used panties.”

“Oh fuck…” you’re gushing, so close with every filthy image he throws in your head, as he slams his cock, heavy balls making little plap plap plap sounds, his cock throbbing inside. You feel every vein, every ridge of his dick inside you, nails digging into his strong biceps in response.

“Your cunt can’t lie like you do, you like making me desperate, don’t you?” You bite your lip, tears from being edged falling, making him groan when he feels them against his cheek. “Yeah, cry, hah – pathetic dumb baby.”

“Hate you,” you bite his shoulder, but he fucks you harder, losing it, desperate and needy – a whimper in your ear that pushes you over the edge. “Hate you so m-much.”

“Fuck,” he’s kissing you again, hands folding you in half, then gripping your face, sweat dripping on your skin. “You’re never leaving me, I’ll fill you so much, so much cum you’ll drip me at work.”

“Sukuna…”

“Give you so many fucking reasons to stay, fucking keep you to myself,” you’re lost in his insanity, losing all sense of preservation for his thick cock and the way he looks at you. “You’re mine.”

“Fuck it, just… let me cum…” He pauses at that, lips parted. “Please.”

“Begging? Look at you, perfect fucking whore for me only, only want my cum inside you, huh? Fill you till you’re begging me to stop.”

“Shut up and – f-fuck, fu-uckkk,” your orgasm ruins you, you’ve never felt whatever the fuck the psycho is doing, and he just fucks you through it, hands pressing so hard against your head you think you’ll break.

“Can you take it all? Greedy cunt is fuckin’ begging for it, feel her milking me, she knows who she belongs to at least,” you’re getting fucked from one orgasm into another, the room spinning, making you dizzy as he works you over and over. “Fuck you stupid, huh? Stupid little whore.”

“Fuck you, hate you. Dumb fucking… psycho…” You’re getting filled then as he moans while you insult him, while you’re digging your nails so hard he bleeds, kissing you desperately as his cum floods your cunt.

“Feel you, so fucking good, g-god, she’s all mine,” you’re sobbing, shaking underneath him, all just making him want you again. “She is, you are. Not going anywhere.”

“Just once,” you mumble, he chuckles then, yanking out of you, dripping with all the fluids from you two, it’s filthy to see. He grabs a pillow, flipping you onto your stomach and slipping it right under your hips then. “Sukuna, f-fuck are you doing back there?”

“God, look at her, she took me s’fucking good, she took so much,” he is spreading your legs while he watches your cunt pushing out his pearly white cum, spreading your ass wide so he can look. “Arch that ass up for me.”

“Again!? I- S-sukuna ngh,” you feel it then, his tongue lapping from your clit all the way to your little unused hole. “What are you d-doing?”

“Gonna taste us together, god your pussy is so slutty, mnh.” Sukuna laps his long tongue deep in your cunt now, scooping out his own cum, while his hands take over your ass, gripping it and dragging it on his face.

“Are you l-licking… my… your… oh, there, shit there,” you’re arching more now, he dives deeper, cleaning every inch of your cunt with his mouth, tongue flicking deep inside and scooping more that pours. “Cumming!”

He pulls back now, laying prone over you with his long limbs, tattooed hands pressing your lips apart. “Open, taste us.”

You do just that without argument, letting Ryomen Sukuna spit in your mouth, swapping the mix of both of your cum with dripping saliva. “You’re freaky as fuck, S-sukuna.”

“You haven’t seen shit yet, I’m not taking it easy this time,” you go to ask what the fuck he means when he shoves all of the nine inches he can in your cunt, wrapping his fingers around your throat. “Gonna fill you again, and again, and again, till you learn who the fuck you belong to.”

*****

You’re blinking as the sun shines in the big windows of Sukuna’s room, feeling something wet against your tummy. You gasp and lift the sheets, watching as Sukuna’s pink haired head sinks lower. “What’re you doing, you weird fucking freak!?”

“Gonna have you a pathetic mess, hurt your little cunt, bet she’s sore,” he bites your clit now, you jerk, yanking on his hair, shaking when he slides two fingers in, eyeing you with a lazy smirk and bright ruby eyes. “Aw, poor little pussy.”

“I s-said once…”

“I came inside you five times,” he spreads your pussy lips now, moaning. “Still some leaking out of your beat up cunt, too.”

“D-did you record that all? Gonna jerk off to it?” You gasp as he flicks his demon tongue on your sore clit, sinking another finger inside and stretching you out so much you’re jerking back.

“Ah - ah, don’t run, brat. You’re all mine, belong to me,” he flicks his tongue again, after fucking you stupid all night, your brain is still fucked. “You’re never leaving me.”

“Y-yes I will.”

He smiles against your skin, letting you think that for now, before making sure to put more cum inside you, fuck you even dumber, until you don’t even remember what you were saying, what you were thinking. When you’re passing out, he’s still inside you, chuckling at how cute you are, tears drying on your cheeks, your lips swollen, and he knows you’re not going anywhere.

Surprise, she isn't going anywhre :')

Comments/rbs very appreciated if you enjoy!!

Kofi link if you wanna buy me a glass of wine 🍷

[spltbtch]

WHAT YOU DO TO ME

PAIRING: roommate!bakugo x f!reader

SUMMARY: though you don't know it, you drive bakugo insane. all it takes is one morning, you and no pants, for him to lose control.

WARNINGS: masturbation (m) + dry humping + oral (f & m receiving) + a little cum play + creampie + they're a lil filthy :)

NOTES: reader kinda gives cute airhead vibes (i'm sorry) but it's not too bad + kinda had a chubby/thick reader in mind when writing this but there's no specifics! she is quite shorter than him tho so imagine him gigantic if you're tall

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

when bakugo walks into the living room, he doesn’t know what he expects to find, nothing much, really. but the last thing he expects is to see you lying on your stomach on the couch, with no pants on.

you didn’t think much of it—you were in the comfort of your own home, which you shared with bakugo, sure. but you didn’t think it was a big deal. the shirt originally covered you completely, but after a few washes, it now rested just on the curve of your ass, something which you noticed when you put it on last night before going to bed.

you were comfortable and it was still morning and you didn’t have any plans today, so you figured you could just lounge about. you didn’t care enough to change your clothes or even put pants on—you trusted bakugo and after living with him for almost a year now, you felt comfortable around him as well.

contrary to popular belief, he could be very chill, especially at home—which is why you saw no problem here.

bakugo, however had a huge problem—a mental one, and a physical one as well.

he swallowed thickly and averted his gaze, letting out a gruff “morning” before walking past to the kitchen, subtly tugging at his sweats. your sweet voice greeting him a good morning did nothing good for the seed of guilt growing in the pit of his stomach as he cursed himself for thinking about you inappropriately.

he’d managed to suppress the thoughts of that nature over the months, for the most part, but this definitely wasn’t helping. and it’s not like he could say anything about it, you paid rent and you lived there just like him, he could control himself. and he walked around half naked too, so he really couldn’t complain.

he hides out in the kitchen for a bit, making himself a smoothie and oatmeal before he heads to the gym and feels himself subconsciously take a sharp inhale when he hears your footsteps approaching. he keeps his eyes on the counter in front of him, his hands gripping the granite.

absentmindedly, he hears you excuse yourself as you squeeze past him, and he tenses when he feels your arm brush against his bare back. it takes everything in him not to blast the counter to bits. you bring every one of his senses into overdrive.

the last straw was when you leaned over and grabbed one of the cut strawberries in front of him, biting into it cheekily as you smiled up at him. his eyes got caught on your lips as he licked his own, entranced by you. after a few seconds he shook his head, cursing when his gaze trailed down to your soft thighs.

he couldn't stop himself, he wasn't thinking, and he certainly didn't expect to say his next words out loud, but he did, and they were loud enough for you to hear.

"would you put some goddamn pants on for fuck's sake..."

you stopped chewing and stared at him, eyes wide. "am i...making you uncomfortable?..."

after a beat, he replied "yes."

as soon as the word left his mouth, both of your hearts dropped to your stomach for opposite reasons.

you hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable, you felt awful, almost sick to your stomach. the thought that he was so unattracted to you that the sight of your bare skin disturbed him? made you feel terrible.

bakugo, on the other hand, was yelling at himself on the inside, cursing himself for saying something he didn't even mean. the word blurted out of his mouth before he could think, almost as a defense mechanism.

part of himself wanted to push you away, the further away the source of his emotions, the better. but the other part felt nothing but dread and guilt at the way the glint in your eyes extinguished, the way you physically closed in on yourself right in front of him.

"i––i'm so sorry." you cross your arms, unsure of what to do with yourself, looking around frantically before walking off to your bedroom, letting out another quiet apology, your eyes glued to the floor.

meanwhile, bakugo's eyes were glued to the wall as you walked by, as he willed himself not to take advantage of the situation and the view to check you out.

when he heard your door close, he let out a huff and ran a hand over his face. “fuck...”

—✷—

every time he closed his eyes, he could see the perfect image of you lying on that couch and it made him throb. but he could also see the look in your eyes as you apologized to him, an almost painful look on your face, as if his words left a physical impact on you.

he felt guilty, so guilty. but not enough to stop himself from stroking his cock to the thought of you. if anything the guilt made him even more worked up, and that in turn just led to more guilt—it was an endless cycle.

he shut his eyes and leaned back against the headboard, one hand twisting around his lubed cock, the slick sound of the friction almost echoing in his head as he imagined sliding into you from behind right there on that couch. he reached his free hand down and squeezed his balls, letting out an almost pained groan as he sped up his movements.

he could practically hear that sweet voice of yours moaning as he grabbed your hips and fucked you back onto his cock. the desperate pleas and thanks dripping off your lips like sweet honey.

your room was on the other side of the apartment so you couldn’t hear him, but part of him wondered what you would do if you did. what if you knew he was touching himself to the thought of you? that just the sight of your bare skin had him losing control like some deprived teenager.

“fuck you’re so fucking sick—“ he whispered, berating himself. “fucking disgusting—shit.”

a shiver ran through his body and his hips started bucking up into the air, the mattress underneath him bouncing as he fucked his hand to the thought of you. the thought of the sound you’d let out as he smacked your ass—would you moan or squeal? the way you’d push back onto him and your ass would ripple against him, the way you’d look back at him with those soft eyes.

with that and a few more desperate thrusts, he was cumming all over his chest, eyes rolling back as he let out a gravelly moan, his body slowly floating back down from the high.

his legs trembled lightly and he looked down at himself, still stroking his cock slowly, mouth open, panting. he hadn’t cum like that in a while. and all it took was one look at you.

he let out a deep sigh. “fucking pathetic.”

he couldn’t bare to look in the mirror as he walked to the bathroom to clean up. too embarrassed to even face himself.

—✷—

it wasn’t until one day a week later that you finally revisited the situation again, in a very exposed way.

he wasn't paying attention, or rather he wasn't expecting you to be in there, especially since the door was unlocked. but he definitely wasn't disappointed when he walked into the bathroom to find you bent over, drying your legs from the shower, your soft skin all bare for him to see.

he knew he should have closed the door and walked away, and some small voice in his head was screaming that at him, but he froze for a moment and just stared, lips parted as he took in the curve of your ass, the slit of your––

you turned around and practically jumped back like a cat, gasping abruptly, cutting off the song you were humming to yourself.

"oh my god!" you pulled the towel up haphazardly, frantically trying to cover your body and bakugo's eyes snapped up to your face. "i'm so sorry–"

his brows furrowed, "why the hell are you apologizing?" briefly forgetting his need to leave the room.

you looked away, gripping the towel tighter. you weren't scared or embarrassed of showing your body, but you knew how he felt about it.

"i just don't want to make you uncomfortable...i must have forgotten to lock the door. i'll remember to next time."

he paused, conflicted on what to say, so you spoke up again.

“if you just give me a second, i’ll finish up here and get out of your way."

barely even hearing your words, since he was contemplating right then and there in his head, he just stayed standing, jaw clenched absentmindedly as he stared at you.

you blinked and tilted your head in confusion. “katsuki?”

god, you were so cute.

“is everything okay?”

"can i kiss you?"

your eyes widened, your hands gripping your towel tighter in confusion. did you hear him right?

"what?"

his eyes scanned over your face. he knew his random burst of confidence would wear off soon if he didn't try again right now. "can i kiss you?"

you found yourself tilting your head up unconsciously before you even answered, but you nodded your head. you got halfway through your "yes", before katsuki was charging forward.

his hands reached for you, cradling your face as he bent down and pulled you into him, lips latching onto yours.

surprised by his fervor, you squeaked into his mouth, hands dropping your towel and holding onto his arms for support, leaning further into him for more.

he licked into your mouth, throbbing as he felt you press your body onto his. he bit your lip and bent down further, confusing you until you felt his hands on your lower thighs, gasping as he lifted you up.

you wrapped your arms and legs around him, hungrier for his touch and he brought his lips right back to yours, hands gripping your plush thighs and groaning into your mouth at how soft you were.

he walked backwards into the hallway, aiming to go to his bedroom, but ended up pressing you against the wall, too caught up in your taste to remember his destination. you gasped quietly at the cold against your skin and arched into him, pressing your tits flush against him, making him throb against your core.

one of his arms wrapped around the middle of your back, pulling you impossibly closer, the other sliding up from your thigh to squeeze your ass. you moaned deliciously into the kiss and he pressed you further against the wall, hips flush with yours.

the two of you were practically humping against the wall like animals, months of living with each other, ignoring your attraction finally bubbled up and spilled over to something uncontrollable.

the both of you were so pent up, you were already close, the most sensitive you've probably ever been in your life.

"christ you're gonna make me–" he could barely get the words out against your lips, grunting as he felt you wetting the bulge of his sweats. you were going to make him cum like a nerdy virgin.

"suki don't–don't stop please." your voice was so desperate, so vulnerable. your pleasure was in the palm of his hand and it was making him go insane.

he leaned back, hips still moving, mouth open as he watched you, the glaze in your eyes, the plump of your lips. "you wanna cum like this princess? wanna soak my sweats just from fucking humping me all needy like this?"

you nodded unashamed, eyes rolling back already, your voice breathy and higher. "feels sooo good." your hands pulled at his hair and he cursed, groaning and moving his lips to your neck.

"fuck–" his hips were wild, no better than yours, thrashing against him determined, as you came, thighs squeezing around him, your moan caught in your throat.

he could feel you pulsing against his cock and he jerked, pressing you tight against the wall, groaning into your neck as he came, hips still rolling against yours slowly to ride out his orgasm.

you sighed happy, spent already, and licked your lips, letting your eyes open. you ran your fingers through his hair soothingly on instinct and he leaned into your touch, pulling his head back to look at you.

you stared at each other silent with need before leaning in to kiss again. he adjusted his grip on you, slapping your ass cheekily, making you squeak and him smirk as he finally walked you to his room.

he placed you down on the bed and climbed over you, kissing his way down your neck, your collarbone, and nipping your breasts lightly before licking and sucking on your nipple, his fingers playing with the other.

you moaned and arched up, pressing yourself more into his mouth, offering yourself up to him and he squeezed your breast, sucking your nipple intensely.

his eyes met yours with a salacious stare as he swirled his tongue around your areola and sat up. "you have no idea what you do to me."

you blinked at him, still dazed from the feeling of his mouth. "huh?"

he shook his head, a small but fond smile on his face as his eyes traced your body, "seeing you walk around this place with no pants on..."

his hands trailed down your torso, making your breath hitch.

"looking at me all innocent the way you do." his eyes glanced up at yours. "the way you're still looking at me now." he licked his lips. "you have no idea all the bad things i wanna do to you, baby."

you bit your lip. "so show me."

a spark lit in his eyes and he spread your legs, positioning himself in between them. once he finally got a good look at you, he could barely contain himself, "god, you–" he let out a breath, not even caring to finish his sentence and quite literally dived into you.

you moaned instantly, one hand gripping his hair, the other grabbing your own breast as you spread your legs wider for him, giving him complete access to you, only driving him crazier.

his tongue was all over you, committing everything about you to memory––your taste, your feel, your sensitivity. and he was enjoying it too, moaning into you like it was giving him pleasure.

your moans were floating in the room uncontrollably, the pleasure almost overwhelming as he sucked on your clit. his hands were holding you down, keeping you close and when you looked down and met his eyes, you could tell he was enjoying it, that he didn't want to stop. that was enough to tip you over the edge.

your thighs squeezed around his head and he moaned against you, his own eyes rolling back, grateful for the feeling.

barely aware of your surroundings through your bliss, your eyes still closed, you could feel katsuki's tongue still licking you up, his lips kissing you between your legs, head still trapped––but with the way his hands were keeping your thighs wrapped tight around him, he didn't seem to mind.

but underneath the hunger in his touch, you could feel the tenderness, and that gave you an undeniable desire to kiss him. opening your eyes, you finally let his head free and tried to coax him up, tugging his hair gently, but he simply looked up at you, mouth still on you.

"suki," you scratched his scalp affectionately and his eyes fluttered shut briefly. "come 'ere."

he simply grunted and closed his eyes, focusing on your clit to distract you.

you squirmed, your face heating up at his clear enthusiasm to please you, but went on.

"please suki? want a kiss."

his eyes opened again and he hummed against you, unable to say no to your sweet voice. he pressed a sweet kiss against you and climbed up, licking his lips.

smiling up at him, you immediately slid your arms around his neck and pulled him in, sighing as he fit perfectly on top of you. your lips connected and the both of you moaned like it was what you both needed to feel complete.

his hips pressed against yours and your brows furrowed. silently, still kissing him, you started pulling his sweats down, wanting to feel all of him.

he got the hint and pulled away to get rid of them himself. he got back in position, feeling butterflies in his stomach when your hands ran up and down his arms, willing himself not to show off and flex for you.

"wasn't done eatin' you know."

your heart flipped and you pulsed down there, and you swore by the slight smirk on his face, he could tell.

you shook your head slightly. "wanna feel you." you sat up and kissed him softly. "but first," you placed a hand on his chest and turned, flipping the both of you, and he let you, too flustered by your touch to realize what you were doing.

once his back touched the mattress, he snapped out of it. "wait-" he was not going to make you be on top for your first time together.

you smiled and shushed him, licking your lips as you finally got a good look at him. you'd been wondering for months, and he did not disappoint. his cock was wet with pre and cum from earlier and you couldn't wait to get your mouth on him.

"my turn." you looked up at him like he was your prey and his words got caught in his mouth as he blinked at you.

your tongue dragged up from the base of his cock to the tip and his head fell back immediately, "fuck-"

you licked him clean, one hand cupping his balls, the other stroking him and he laid there, mouth open like you were taking his soul from him. he couldn't stop moaning, hips twitching as you basically devoured him, smiling and humming, amused and turned on beyond belief.

how could you be both adorable and unbelievably seductive at the same time?

you took him further into your mouth and his hand found its way into your hair, wanting to hold you and ground himself as he felt the pleasure pulling him away from consciousness.

you were sloppy with it, back arched, tits grazing his thighs as you bobbed your head, covering his cock and your hand in spit, moaning eagerly as you slurped him up.

he could barely keep up with his thoughts, losing it completely when he looked down and saw you staring at him boldly, waiting to see him fall apart.

his brows pulled together and he bit his lip, tugging your hair a little harder, hips bucking into your mouth despite trying to will himself not to. "fuck i'm–" he let out a loud groan and you moaned around him, making him twitch, his cum coating your tongue.

you kept going, dragging out his high gently with slow strokes and light sucks until he was reduced to slight twitches and quiet sighs.

he swiped a hand down his face to bring himself out of his haze, the other caressing your cheek fondly. you nestled into it, a glint in your eye that made him curious.

you popped off of him but kept your mouth over him and he tilted his head, "what are you-?"

parting your lips, you stuck your tongue out and let the cum drip out onto his cock, using it as lube as you continued to stroke him, and his mouth dropped open.

"jesus baby... look at you," your mouth closed around him again and he borderline whined, an almost pained look on his face, unable to handle how enticingly filthy you were. "oh my god."

he was unsurprisingly still hard and throbbed on your tongue, his desire for you building to a point he didn't even know was possible.

gently, he pulled you off of him, bringing you up and kissing away your pout. he could taste himself on you and it made him groan and pull you closer, his entire body hot for you.

he slid a hand down to your neck and held you firmly, feeling you gasp to yourself at the feeling. you felt his lips curve up into a smile against your own.

his other hand slid down your body, following your curves down to your ass, which he grabbed a handful of before flipping the two of you over again.

spreading your legs, he got into position, fitting perfectly between them and you whimpered when you felt his cock press up against your slit.

he rubbed his cock through your folds and cursed, letting his head rest against yours. "you ready baby?"

you nodded as best you could, biting your lip in anticipation. you needed him bad.

he pressed the tip to your entrance and slid back up to your clit, swiping your wetness around––you could hear it.

"god, you're soaked." he sounded almost anguished.

you held onto him tight, one hand on his bicep, the other on the back of his neck.

his breaths were coming out hard and heavy, tongue against his cheek as he finally slid into you. you both gasped and moaned wantonly as he thrust in and out of you.

your hold tightened on him and he gripped your waist to contain himself, eyes already rolling at how warm, wet and tight you were.

"you feel fucking amazing"

you were so full of him, you could feel him everywhere, it's like you were barely present, just in a state of lust.

you could only talk in whines, your words dragged out, "mm you do too."

he kissed along your jaw, and even through your cloudy mind, you turned your head to make it easier for him. he put his head in the crook of your shoulder, thrusting deeper and faster as you clenched around him.

the sound of his thighs slapping against the backs of yours was loud, his thrusts desperate, his breath hitting your skin as he panted, tongue darting out to lick at your sweat, his body just craving the pure taste of you, like a man starved.

and in a way he had been. ever since you moved in, he couldn't even bare touching anyone else, his mind always drifting to you to the point where he gave up on hook ups all together. it was just him and his hand for months––so this, you were quite literally his drink of water in the desert.

without even looking, he reached a hand up and pressed two fingers to your mouth. "open baby." he turned his head to kiss at your jaw, drunk on you as he watched you eagerly suck on his digits like they were his cock.

when you got them nice and wet, and he could feel himself hurtling towards the edge, he slid his fingers out, kissing your cheek as he reached them down to rub at your clit.

"good girl," he whispered the words against your skin and you arched into his touch, eyes closing, your bundle of nerves hot from the pleasure.

"fuck i'm gonna-i-" you could barely get the words out, fingertips digging into his arm, the other tugging restlessly at the hair at his nape.

"come on baby, cum with me."

you simply moaned in response, already on track, his deep, gravelly voice pushing you further to the edge.

"cum inside me-"

his brows raised in surprise, his cock practically jumping inside you from your words alone, his lust making him forget he already slid his cum covered cock inside of you.

as your walls clenched tight around him, he captured your lips in a ravenous, messy kiss, moans hitting against each other, his hips rutting wildly.

you swore you could feel your veins running hot throughout your whole body, stars behind your eyes. it felt like you were floating, ascending, legs trembling.

katsuki tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth gently and pulled back to watch you, his eyes gazing over you fondly. your skin was glistening, small sighs and moans coming out of your mouth as you contracted around him every now and then, his cock still thrusting into you slowly, his cum leaking out.

"fuck..."

you came to, your eyes focusing on him and smiled at him, making his heart skip a beat.

"you took it so well, baby."

you hummed, content, walls clenching around him involuntarily, making him curse, his hand gripping your waist tight.

"let me pull out, okay?"

you nodded, looking up at him with all your trust and he felt those butterflies reappear in his stomach.

he sat up and you both winced as he pulled out. he leaned back in and kissed your forehead lightly before lying next to you and pulling you into his chest. it felt just right.

you both took a minute and just breathed, settling down as the buzz still lingered in your bodies.

your hand trailed along his abs, up to his chest and stayed there while his ran up and down your side, before resting at your hip.

he swallowed uncertainly before speaking up, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "been thinking about this for too long."

you nestled into him, making him tighten his hold on you. "me too."

you felt him turn his head towards you and tilted yours to meet his eye. you just stared at each other for a moment, letting the feeling embrace you.

his voice was quiet, soft. "you fuckin' ruined me."

you looked at him with those same innocent eyes you always do and smiled. "good. you ruined me too."

he smirked, shaking his head fondly before kissing your forehead.

he could live with that.

bonus:

after he'd cleaned you up and gotten back in bed, you propped your head on top of your hand and he turned curiously, raising a brow.

"so why'd you tell me to put pants on the other day?"

he blinked, his cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. he looked away, "was just being fuckin' stupid. didn't mean to say that."

you smiled, a mischievous look in your eye, "you sure? cause i can wear pants 24/7 no problem–"

his eyes turned serious "don't you fucking dare–"

© adoringmha 2025

[spltbtch]

HIS BABYSITTER FANTASY COME TRUE!

𝖘𝖚𝖒.ㅤ★ Dilf!Gojo fantasizing about taking his babysitter's virginity 'till it becomes a reality and oops... now he's fucking you off the bed 'n taking this to the floor like a wrestler!

𝖜𝖈ㅤ★ 6.7k (beefy like his di-)

𝖈𝖜ㅤ★ strictly NO under 18s, smut, virginity loss, plot, fucking the babysitter trope, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms/creampies, cunnilingus, aftercare 🫶, age gap (Gojo in his 30s, reader in her 20s), solo masturbation, pet names (good girl, slut, etc.), breast play, subtle breeding kink, daddy kink, big d!ck Gojo, he um... fucks a pillow while you give him an innocent massage

"I've always liked older men. Boys my age just don't get me, you know? Neither do they know how to fuck me."

That was one of the first things you said to Gojo Satoru.

And he nearly had a heart attack. Choked on his drink so hard that he had to spit half of it back into the glass.

How could you say something like that with such an angelic voice? It didn't match up, your words were nasty but your face was innocent.

Wiping his mouth, Satoru tried to recompose himself.

"Is that so...?" is all that he could manage to reply with.

He tugged at his baby blue shirt's collar, unbuttoned one button 'cause he couldn't breathe. His blood was pumping. His heart was thumping.

"How old did you say you were again?" you asked softly.

"Thirty-two." he replied. "And way too old for you."

"Perfect." you smiled.

"Huh?"

Mmm... now what did his best friend say about you? "Oh Satoru, I know a babysitter that you and the kids will just adore. She's a real sweetheart."

A sweetheart... uh, yeah, well Suguru didn't warn him about the fact you had a thing for dads. Didn't warn him that you might be crazy. Touch-starved. A way too horny and provocative twenty-something year old virgin.

Maybe Suguru didn't even see this side of you... maybe it was just Satoru that you were throwing yourself at. Surely Suguru would have told him all about a heated affair that he had with a babysitter... right? Or was he the only daddy that you fantasized about fucking your pretty brains out?

Just the thought of that being true made his ego swell and his blood rush down to his heavy cock. He loved thinking about the obvious fact that you laid in bed touching your pussy to the thought of him.

He endured your flirting. Held his hands behind his back. Bit his tongue. Told himself that he can't make out with his hot babysitter on a random Sunday afternoon, as much as he wanted to, because that was diabolical.

You were sitting on the couch alone some nights, ensuring his kids were entertained and fed and happy, while he was at work. You watched their favorite cartoons until they felt drowsy and then you had to tuck 'em into bed and read three separate bed time stories for each of them because Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara all liked different stories.

It was exhausting, but such a joy to babysit such sweethearts.

After they fell asleep, you'd wander a lonely path back downstairs and look at the time — 8:45 PM — then yawn big and snuggle up on the couch and... wait. And wait. Anddd... wait.

Satoru would always come home late from work.

You'd hear the click of the front door and have an almost Pavlovian reaction. Oh, daddy's home.

You'd strain your ears to hear his footsteps as he walked down the hall, hear the satin hiss of his loosening tie, the sound sparking your over-active imagination. And, pushing a stressed-out sigh past his lips, Satoru would walk into the living room to see you looking drowsy and messy after a long day of taking care of his three kids.

And it's that messy sight of you which made something click in Satoru's mind. That's what really sold him on you. Sure, you were a crazy hot mess... but you had this undeniable motherly quality about you that just made him wonder.

What if he gave you his babies?

Shit. Sorry. Random Friday night thoughts. Forgive him. He's been working at a desk all day and now he's feelin' a bit woozy.

He looked at you, mumbled a sweet but gruff "Hey." and then took a seat right next to you on the TV-lit couch. He sat a respectable distance away from you at first... but then, uh, the next second you had already scooched over to his side until you two were almost pressing thigh against thigh.

Exhausted. Apprehensive at how close his flirty babysitter liked to sit next to him, while at the same time getting half-hard at the thought of tearing off your tiny clothes and showing you just how frustrated a tease like you makes him. Satoru sat and endured.

Underneath all that teenage-like sexual tension, he was feeling welcomed home by you. He almost forgot how nice it felt to have someone waiting up for him.

"So, how was work?" you asked.

He grumbled. He sighed. He was half-hard and full-frustrated. No one had asked him that question in a long time in such a caring voice that it actually tugged at his heartstrings a bit. Just a bit.

"It was... um, yeah... like any other day. Long and hard."

"Long and hard..." you nodded, trailing off and letting the innuendo fill the air.

He gave you a look.

"Exactly how long and hard?" you asked.

He couldn't believe that your stupid jokes like that made him chuckle. And what a sight his smile was; his dimples, the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners, making the slightest age lines appear on his pale face.

"Ah, finally I got a smile out of you."

"And that's the only one you're getting." he shook his head.

Satoru brought his big hand to massage his shoulder, letting out a tense groan from his thought.

Oh, the pitiful look that you gave him made him wanna crawl onto your lap and weep. He'd worked so hard all week with scarce breaks, and all he wanted was a sweet, soft woman to lay upon, to be loved by, to fuck stupid, to use like a good stress-relieving fleshlight — ya know? Just a nice way to wrap up a hard week.

"You..." you began, pressing one long decorated nail into his firm pecs, "... look like you're in desperate need of a massage."

"Ahah... no, no..."

He stuttered, smiled a big toothy smile that made you wanna bite him. God, he really looked like that old photo of himself right then — that one you stole, remember? His graduation photo. He just looked too hot and you had to have a memento of him for your memory box.

Shit. You were crazy.

Satoru had no fucking idea whether you were making a dirty suggestion or just genuinely offering him a massage.

Either way, the thought of your hands on him got the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

Though the rational side of his brain was telling him to refuse your offer, the ghost of the crazed fuckboy that he used to be forced him to accept — like, fuck, what kind of idiot would you be if you refused a pretty girl to work her hands on you, Satoru? Don't put your past self to shame, he thought, you're only gonna get older one day and then that thing ain't even gonna sit up like a good boy without some treats... yeah... that's right... you're gonna be real fucking old one day, Satoru... think about it...

"You know what, actually...? Yeah, I'd love one... but you better be good." he said in a low rasp.

"Oh, don't worry — I'm the best." you grinned like a sweet little devil.

I'll fucking bet you are, cheeky slut, he thought.

He looked like he was holding back all his raw lust. Like if you said just one more thing like that then he would tear your clothes right off your slutty little body and fuck you until every thought flew out of your head except for thoughts of him.

****

Yeah, that martial artist discipline of his really came in handy once you started massaging his shoulders and back. If he hadn't been so strict on himself, he would have...

"Gosh, you're sooo tense, Mr. Gojo... relax."

... I need to fuck her brains out. That's the first thought that he had to push out of his head.

"... let me take the weight of your shoulders..." you nearly whispered, working your hands into his meaty muscle.

Ooh he slipped, he totally gave in.

"Mmm..." he let out a purring moan, feeling the pressure of your fingertips sink into his sore muscles. "That feels good... keep going."

You were trying to keep it cool and professional... er, as professional as you could with your hands exploring Gojo Satoru's muscular back.

Having the lights down low didn't help much. Everything was turning you on. Your clit was already buzzing and begging for attention from behind your thin panties.

This was babymaking atmosphere.

You were going insane, soaking your panties and twitching 'cause you've got a hot dad groaning under your touch.

"Y' can go a little harder..." he muttered in a rough voice.

"M'kay..."

"Mmm..." he let out that purring moan again, this time stretching it out.

Something was so erotic about giving him a massage, even though it wasn't supposed to be — uh, it really wasn't supposed to be, right? Right? It's not like you planned this out all night, not like you were scheming while watching cartoons and waiting for Gojo Satoru to come home.

Ah c'mon... he's an overworked man in need of a massage. Just listen to him, he's moaning like he's — oh, he's closing his eyes, too? He must be really feeling it. His breath is becoming choppy, too.

"Just a bit more..."

"Like this?"

"Yeahhh... just like that."

His mouth hung open in bliss. He squirmed a little. Shit... he could feel himself throbbing. Even slightest friction of his pants shifting along his painfully hard cock was already intense enough to make him clench his jaw.

You smirked, catching a delicious glimpse of the prominent outline of his bulging cock right before he instinctively covered it up with a pillow.

Damn, how does he keep such a monster hidden under such thin dress pants?

Sticking your tongue out in focus as you deliberately massage a spot on his back that makes him moan out the most, Satoru rolls his eyes back and dies a little orgasmic death.

"Yeah... th-that's it... right there... right there... you can go harder."

"Like this?"

"Yeahhh... good g- uhhh, th-that's good." he purred, holding back his tongue just in time because oops, he almost called you a good girl without even thinking.

Oh, that pillow coverage sure helped to keep his boner out of sight but then he had a new problem... the pleasurable friction of the pillow and the fact his stubborn hips liked to move on their own.

Without trying to make it obvious, he was getting off with the pillow, shifting it as inconspicuously as he could but he just couldn't get enough friction — shit, when was the last time that he was so horny he could even enjoy fucking a pillow? It was insane how hard he was, how much his cock oozed sticky precum, how every inch stood at attention asking politely to stretch out some good babysitter pussy.

He shut his pretty blue eyes when started feeling reaaally good. Like, god, he needed this more than he needed air. It was such a shit day at work, but now all the stress that he had built up throughout the day just melted away with each subtle thrust of his bulge into the pillow, and your soft hands digging into his muscular back.

I wanna fuck her so bad.

"Uhhh, fuckkkkkkk...!" he let out a broken moan.

You stopped massaging his back, eyes blown wide open, trying to hold back your shock and snickering. He had worked up a subtle sweat. His muscles were twitching. He was gasping. It was so obvious to you what had just happened.

"Mister?"

"Huh?" he blinked the stars out of his eyes, coming-to as if his orgasm knocked him out for a second.

"Are you okay...?"

He opened his eyes and... oh, there was a wet patch on his dress pants where he just came. Oops. A little massaging and pillow-fucking and he came all over his thigh? Well, that had never happened before. Guess his cock was just super sensitive after not having sex for so long — but you didn't hear that from me...

Satoru gulped. He abruptly stood up, acting as nervous as a bird, "Um, uh... it's late, isn't it? I've gotta drive you home..."

"Aw, okay." you frowned at him, wiggling your hips like you were expecting more.

And he looked at your wiggling hips, your slightly spread apart legs, and then he let a nasty thought pass his mind, and nearly caved and asked you if you wanted to...

****

God, you had your legs apart and he could smell your ovulation. No no, don't call him crazy. He could smell it.

And as he went upstairs to wipe the cum off his inner thighs and change into new pants, he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that you must have been soaked. You must have had the prettiest pussy ever.

Oh, he threw his head back and groaned when he met you back downstairs because while he tried acting professional, now you were all worked up and in an outrageously flirty mood.

You were about to say something outrageous again but he stopped you dead on your tracks.

"Shut up, I don't want to hear it. Let's go." he said, grabbing his keys.

You saluted him playfully, "Yes, daddy."

He did a double take. "What?"

"Nothing." you smiled innocently.

His eyes caught yours, then he rubbed his cheek like he was stressed out.

It was really obvious why he liked you, but Satoru was aching to ask why on earth you like him so much.

Didn't you think he was an egotistical asshole? That's how his ex-wife described him, anyways.

*****

"So you're a Sagittarius, huh?" you ask, little voice dripping in sultriness and setting off alarm bells in the fuckboy side of his mind. "That's hot."

"Uh-huh."

He's driving you home. 60 mph. Switching lanes. Bright blue eyes blind-spotting to the left. Next they're side-eyeing you. Catching on your pretty baby angel face. Trying to keep it together, but his cock is starting to make a bulge in his pants again. Something you've discovered is that the poor man doesn't even change out of his suit most days; when he comes home he just faceplants into bed and falls asleep.

"A december baby?"

"Yup. December seventh." he replies curtly.

Relax, Satoru. It's just conversation. Just innocent, professional conversation with the babysitter who just witnessed you fucking a pillow and cumming in your pants.

After a steadying inhale, he politely returns the question, "What about you? When's your birthday?"

Satoru pays you a brief glance before bringing his gaze back to the speedometer. 50 mph.

Just that one question turns into a deep exploration of your psyche.

"... I just don't like guys my age... like, god, they don't even turn me on anymore."

You give a dramatic pause before looking at him with a nympho fire in your eyes.

"Hey, you're an old man — got any sage advice for me?"

"Hey, who you callin' an old man?"

"Sorryyy, I'm just being cheeky."

"I can tell."

"Sooo... what's your advice?"

Satoru furrows his brows. "For what?"

"For getting older guys to pay one small glance to a sweet girl like me?"

He tenses up and doesn't reply.

You're insane. Worse, you're even more insane than he was when he was your age.

His cock is throbbing against his inner thigh. Again. Precum. Everywhere. How dare you? He's in-between throttling you and stopping off on the side of the highway to bend you over his car's hood to show you he ain't no old man. What a cheek...

"This is your turnoff, isn't it?"

"... yeah."

You watch him flick on the turn signal. You catch his eyes just before he blind-spots again.

As he's pulling off the highway, you pull a dumb joke out of your brain, eager to get a response from him.

"It's my turnoff. But ya wanna know my turn-on?"

"..." he doesn't reply, just gives you a look, then tears his eyes off you and rubs his fingers over his mouth.

"C'mon." you encourage, "You're so uptight; let me humor you a little."

"I'm pretty sure I can guess your turn-on."

You tilt your head at him expectantly. He purses his lips. Drives down your street. Pulls into your driveway. Parks. Unbuckles his seatbelt with a tantalizing slowness that sparks your imagination — d'you wonder if he unbuckles his belt that slowly, too?

Satoru offers one lazy guess. "Older men?"

"Bingo!"

He stifles a smile, shakes his head, thinks you're crazy, and then opens his car door and steps out, leaving you to giggle and unbuckle your seatbelt alone.

He swerves 'round the hood of the car over to your side, and reappears at your window to open your door for you.

"Wow. Handsome and chivalrous? Why'd your wife let a gem like you go?"

"... that's not really any of your business."

"Aw, c'mon... I'm just dripping with curiosity."

He doesn't reply again, just walks you silently to your front door. His heart is beating faster as he eyes out the curve of your ass. That tight sundress shows just the faintest hint of a thong underneath.

Just a thin sundress? A tiny thong underneath? God you're so fuckable, he thinks. So, so fuckable. And the worst part is that you're one of the girls who knows you're hot. That's why you bounce around in front of men like him like you're a reckless bunny.

He's trying so hard to block out wild fantasies of ripping the fabric off your tight body and fucking you into a dumb, slutty mess.

Block it out, Satoru, block it out.

Finally, he replies to the question you posed earlier.

"I'm full of myself, apparently." he says bitterly.

"You're full of yourself?" you tilt your head, a light confusion glossing over your features.

He's so patient and fatherly to his kids; a jovial and wholesome man. I mean, he takes his kids to every place they wanna go, makes gingerbread houses with them in the festive season, plays pretend with them, sets up outdoor adventures in his backyard, gets dressed up in a ridiculous costume for Halloween and takes them out trick-or-treating every year without fail. For god's sake, he bought a hot pink set of baking cookware just because Nobara fancied herself a chef.

He gives his all to his kids, how could anyone think he's full of himself?

"... seems like your wife was wrong about you." you reply.

"Ex-wife. And nah, you'll probably agree with her if ya stick around me long enough — " he speaks self-deprecatingly of himself, but then you interrupt him.

"— mmm, if I stick around ya for to long... y'think I'll end up being full of you, too?"

He stutters. Blood rushes to his cock.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing."

Satoru blinks at you in total disbelief. Again, an innocent face like you saying such outrageous shit is just insane to him.

"You've got a nasty conscience, you know that?"

"N'aw, don't mind me. I'm just having fun, being a little silly." you giggle, eyes all over him and his pretty, rideable face.

"Well, I wouldn't call flirting with older men being 'silly'..."

"And I wouldn't call pillow-fucking being 'professional'..."

Oh god. Oh my fucking god. He's breaking in two like a kitkat.

Satoru is rendered fucking silent. He's stunned. He's red.

"Goodnight." is all he replies with. And then he leaves. What the hell else is he supposed to say to that? You're crazy.

Now you got him all worked up and he doesn't know what to do. If younger Satoru knew that one day in his thirties he'd meet a slutty babysitter... oh, god. Younger Satoru would be pumping his fist in the air.

But he's gotta keep playing it cool, 'cause there's no way he can fuck his babysitter... there's NO way...

... so there he is that very night tucked in his black satin sheets, leaky cock in his fist and jaw slacked, face sweaty, fucking himself to supposedly real "I fucked my babysitter" erotica stories. No, he's not one for porn videos. He just wants to lay back and picture your pretty face with no disturbances. He just wants to lay wayyy back on his king-sized bed, fisting his cock with soft fwupfwupfwups while picturing his babysitter's pussy sitting pretty on him.

He groans at his dirty little fantasies as he slides his hand up and down his shaft, getting so lost in the idea of taking your virginity that he forgets all about the erotica story he's reading and jus' closes his eyes, head thunking back against the headboard in bliss and cock dripping like a leaky faucet, practically drooling all over his lower abdomen.

"Good girl; take it all, just like that..." he mutters.

He slides his thumb over his leaky tip and holds it over the hole, smearing precum everywhere as it oozes out, getting his cock wetter before going back to stroking it at a steady speed. His breath gets ragged as he lures his orgasm out.

He's never met a virgin as slutty as you before, that's for sure.

Shit, he really shouldn't be thinking about fucking his babysitter. He really shouldn't tease his cock to thoughts of taking your virginity. It shouldn't bring on his orgasm to picture you trapped underneath his heavy muscles, cumming all over his mature cock.

"... ugh!" he moans out, shifting down the headboard and curling his toes. "Fuck! Fuck... oh, shit, baby..."

Just like that, his jaw slacks in pleasure 'n his cock shoots out thick ribbons of cum and he's creaming all inside you — oh, sorry. That was just in his fantasies.

In reality, he's just cum all over his abs and chest. It shot up so high that it almost reached his neck.

He pants and looks down at the wasted seed that he coulda pumped inside you.

Groaning as he comes down from his high, Satoru lays with his long legs spread out on his bed for a while and curses himself for thinking of fucking his babysitter.

And then he starts weighing the pros and cons of actually doing it.

Yeah, he stares up at the ceiling after jerking off for like thirty minutes, cum splattered on his abs, thinking about how bad of an idea it would be to actually fuck his slutty babysitter.

No, Satoru. You can't. Absolutely no — no fucking the babysitter. Satoru? Bad boy. Don't do it. I know she's fuckable but you cannot fuck your —

****

— so like a week later, he's spreading your legs and crawling inbetween them.

He's placing rough kisses against your lips like he's almost angry about being this horny.

"Nn!" you whine, feeling his fingertips press against your clothed pussy, pushing against your entrance.

"Aw, you're soakin' your panties just from a little bit of kissing? Aren't you cute." he murmurs on your skin.

"Sh-shut up and fuck me... I can't take this teasing." you spit back, pulling him back into a rough kiss.

He chuckles into your mouth, tongue slithering over yours and tangling up with it for a few seconds before he pipes up;

"I'm just getting back at you for all the teasing I endured from your slutty ass."

Biting your lip. Pulling away. Letting out a purely erotic noise. Sliding his big hands down your sides and gripping you like you're his woman.

Oh now your breath gets caught in your throat.

"Let's get you nice and ready for me, hm?" he husks, lips dangerously close to your clothed pussy.

Oh now your heart rate spikes to an alarming rate. Fuck. You're actually doing it. You're actually gonna fuck an older guy.

He plants a rough kiss on top of your pussy, chin pressing against your buzzy clit.

"Mm...!" you press your lips together, trying to keep some sort of composure but you can't 'cause you've got Gojo Satoru between your legs — who the hell would be able to stay composed in your position?

Damn, it drives him crazy when your inner thighs graze the sides of his cheeks. You're ruffling up his hair. He's going down on you.

A moment later, he's pushing your panties aside and lapping at your pussy. Another moment later, he's curling his tongue up inside you.

"Oh my god th-that feels good..." you gasp, feeling his slippery tongue writhe inside.

"Mmm, I know it does."

He feels smug hearing this, pressing an open-mouthed smile against your pussy lips as he sticks his tongue as deep into you as he can possibly go, eyeing your blissed-out expressions. Sliding his tongue out, spitting on your pussy, rubbing sloppy frantic circles on your clit, Satoru's acting like a total show off.

It makes you hide your face between your palms.

"Ah-ah-ah... I want you to watch." he growls, "Don't you dare take your eyes off me, m'kay? That's a good girl."

Tip of his nose nudging your clit as he tongue-fucks you into hazy bliss, you're moaning like you never knew you could.

And he's just in heaven, 'cause he's got your juices dribbling down his chin and glossing his lips better than his favorite lip gloss — uh-huh.

"Mister! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck — nnn! G-gojooo!" you start mewling his name and he goes faster, trying to chase your orgasm out with full intent to leave you hanging.

Your breath is staggering, pussy pulsing with that edge of pleasure and oh, suddenly he's retracting his tongue from your weeping, spasming hole before you can cum all over his face.

Yep. He leaves you hanging.

"Wait — ! Nn, I was gonna c—"

"— y'know, princess" he interrupts, wiping your slick off his cheek with his fingers and licking it off right before your wide eyes, "I really think we're past the formalities; call me Satoru."

Half-dazed and ditzy on the pleasure of a missed orgasm, you watch as Satoru pulls away from you, his knees digging into the mattress and weighing it down.

Veiny hands find his belt and smoothly undo it, whipping off with a loud crack.

"O-oh?" you breathe excitedly.

He smirks, seeing how your eyes are glued to his bulge, "Aw, ya gonna perv on me while I strip for ya?" he teases, then clicks his tongue in regret when you reply with a lamb-like look, "Hahaha, don't get shy on me now. I'm just teasing."

Absolutely drooling over his physique as he strips his clothes off tantalizingly slowly, Satoru's been so composed up until now; as he unbuttons and unzips his long zipper, you notice how ragged his breathing actually is. Like he needs it bad. Like his cock is getting strangled by his clothes.

After hastily taking his pants off, Satoru quickly frees his eager cock from his boxer briefs.

And your eyes go wiiide.

"Oh."

Pale. Pink. Stiff. Leaky. Bit of an upper curve. Thick veins. What's that, like maybe a nine? No, no, there's no way. Actually, on second look, maybe?

"C'mere, let me have you." he rasps, one hand gripping his dummy big cock.

"That is not gonna fit inside me."

His ego swells. Ah, how many girls have said that to him in his life? And it never gets old.

"Nah, it'll fit."

You twitch excitedly, breath catching in your throat as Satoru comes closer to you and snuggles his slim waist between your legs which you just keep spreading wider and wider, so ready to take him even though you're nervous as hell.

"Ready to get ya cherry popped, cutie?" he asks.

He taps his cock against your entrance, coats it in your slippery juices, teases that hot tip in 'n out.

"Yeaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhfuck! Holy shit! Um! Uh!"

"What is it?" he throws a smug smile your way.

He watches intently as your pouty lips move, "'Big, 's really fucking big...! Ooh, god! Nn! Nnn!"

"You're so cute." he arches over you, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

His head starts to spin as he slides inside you.

Fuck. He's actually doing it. Sure, he fucked that flight attendant once. Yeah, he had a couple flings. He was a nasty, sex-crazed fuckboy in his youth. And yet... nothing felt as nasty as this.

This is everything he ever fucking needed. This is the sweet and nasty girl that he's craved for all his life. The rest were too nasty, some too sweet, but you? A perfect slut.

Satoru's curving up into you and teasing your sweet spots with his tip like he's letting 'em know that soon they're gonna get bullied with his hard-hitting strokes.

And your pussy's happily getting stretched out, walls clinging to every inch he pushes in like she's so thankful that you finally gave her something besides your fingers or toys to clench around.

"Ah, fuck, that's tight."

"I'm sorry!"

"No, no, it's a good thing... just relax a little more, 'm gonna push it deeper, is that okay?"

"Yes, please... oh please, fuck, yes give me everything!"

He grins, "No need to ask twice." he murmurs, right before he's sinking another few of his inches into your struggling pussy.

Satoru just comes undone at the feeling of being inside you.

His big hands come to squeeze your breasts, jiggling them around with a playful tongue poking out his mouth like he's just tempted to put his mouth on them.

So he does, y'know he's already lost enough self-restraint to the point where he's fucking his babysitter, so of course he's gonna give into his urge to suck on your breasts.

His hot, wet mouth envelopes your sensitive nipple, tongue flicking against it 'till he draws out cute whimpers from you.

He's pulling his mouth off, kissing the curve of your cleavage, groping a handful of your breasts, looking down at you like he knows damn well no boys your age are gonna fuck you as good as him — shit, scratch that, ain't fuckin' nobody in your whole life gonna fuck you as good as he will.

When your walls permit him to go deeper, Satoru stutters out like he's the virgin here, "F-f-fuck, there you go, baby, jus' take my cock like you're meant to, yeah?"

He moves his hips, relishing that sloppy sound of your pussy gushing around him — oh god you're bucking your hips to meet his hips 'n you're driving him crazy makin' him think for a split second about remarrying.

Like, he's going insane, he's actually going insane.

Hardly ten minutes later and he's fucking you into your first orgasm, loving how you can't even control how hard you cum on his cock. He's ruthlessly rubbing your clit throughout your orgasm, eager to make your eyes roll back completely. And it's making you freak the fuck out, 'cuz no one else has done this to you. No one has brought you to a real orgasm before.

And he can tell.

It makes him twitch and dive deeper into your sopping hole, eager to lure out as much juice as he can 'cause there's nothing he loves more than a creamy mess on his cock.

He's bending and pushing you into the positions he loves, thrusting at a steady pace that you can keep up with at first but sometimes he'll go harder, harder, harder until you're sobbing and wailing out so loudly that he needs to clamp a hand over your mouth.

He chuckles, "Quiet down, princess. You're gonna wake up my kids at this rate."

" 'm shorry!" you mumble into the palm of his hand, feeling his cock drill into your sweet spots and pressure your walls like crazy.

"No, no. Don't be sorry. It's cute. You're taking me so well," he praises, "Doing so so well for me, princess."

Those soft coos don't match his nasty strokes. He's railing you like he's trying to fuck every last bit of virginity out of your pussy, 'till it remembers the shape of his cock, 'till it clings to him, 'till it knows who's ya daddy.

Especially while prone-boning you. Damn, who forgot to give this guy the handbook on How to Fuck a Virgin? He's pounding into you and grunting like he's gone psycho... ohhhhehasn'thaddpussyinlikeayear. Okay. Makes sense.

"Ah, fuck — fuckin' look at me while I fuck you," he commands, sweaty cheek pressing against yours. Satoru grabs your jaw and makes you look at him, loving your lewd expressions. "Haha, such a fucked-out face... cute."

He thrusts faster into you, not even letting much of his cock in 'cause he knows form experience that virgin pussy just can't handle all of that. So he's easing out each time he accidentally dives in too deep.

And when he pounds up into you like that, it makes sense why the phrase "fucking your brains out" came about. His cock has got you in a crazy back arch, got you seeing stars. No thoughts. Just pussy spasms.

"Harder!! 'want it harder! Please! Fuck me harderrr!!" you plead, totally cockdrunk on Gojo Satoru.

"Are you sure 'bout that, sweetheart? 'Cause I don't think you can handle it..."

"Please!!" you beg.

"Aw... 'can't say no to that fuckable face, can i?" he throws your leg over his shoulder, repositioning himself, grinning, "Take a deep breath. You tell me if it's too much, m'kay? Y'can tap out at any time."

"Yeah, yeah! I know!!" you respond so eagerly it makes him giggle.

As instructed, you take a deep breath. But honestly, did it really prepare you for getting fucked this hard? Um, no.

"Fuck, fuck!! Nnn... god, fuck me! Yesyesyes, just like that please!!"

"Ah, shit, baby..."

"God, you're gonna — you're gonna break the bed, 'Toruuu!"

"I'm gonna break you first." he moans, pounding every last inch of his cock into your happy little pussy, gives your g-spot a beating that has your whole body on the brink of insanity.

"Ughhh... fuck!" you choke up, you hiccup, you sob and wail — and he has to kiss you quiet.

My god did you need this. You needed to indulge in this nastiness, 'cuz who the hell else is ever gonna give you the fucking of a lifetime? Uh, yeah, that's right...

"Yeah, keep enjoying my fucking cock. You know nobody else is gonna fuck you as good as this, little slut." he whispers into your ear, cheek sticky with sweat 'n pressing against yours.

What kind of man did his ex-wife think he was? Full of himself? Nah... he wasn't that full of himself. C'mon now...

"... fuck you look so good cumming on my cock like that. Aw, you shaking? Can't handle it? Am I just too good at fucking you, huh? Wanna cum again? Come on, use your words, you're a big girl. You wanna cum again, don't you? I know you want it. I know you love my cock, 'course you do... 'm fucking perfect, baby. 'N you're gonna take every perfect fucking inch of me."

Oh. Okay. Maybe he is full of himself.

Well, he's full of himself and now you're full of him, too.

Satoru isn't shy about pumping a thick, gooey cumload inside you. He isn't shy about frothing up his creampie during round two, either. And he isn't shy about flipping you into missionary and pushing your trembling legs back and sliding his cock in again.

"Can ya do one more for me, baby?"

"Y-yeah!"

"Aw, but you look exhausted..." he grins. "I wouldn't wanna break my favorite babysitter on accident."

"I'm okay, I swear! I can take it!" you start babbling.

Sweat is dripping off your bodies and soaking the bed. The room smells like sex. His muscles are pressing into you. He's diving into you like a swimmer and grunting and making a dent in the wall 'cause that headboard is banging into the wall just as hard as he's banging into you. Neither of you even notice the dent in the wall. You're just stuck together, connected in that one place, fucking like bunnies.

You palm at his abs, pressing flat against them and melting at the feeling of his mmmaturemusclestwitchingohgodbless, you're so gone after feeling his sweat gather on your hand and catching a glimpse of the bulge his cock makes inside you.

Satoru blanks when your small hand feels up his muscles. Now his thrusts got your lower tummy shuddering and you just wonder what he's thinking when his brows furrow together in such serious focus at your fertile pussy.

"Ohmygodohmygodyou'regonnafuckingbreakme!!" you squeal, fisting the pillow and nearly crying into it.

He giggles, slowing his thrusts to a pace your poor, abused pussy can handle better, "Sorry, doll, you jus' got me too excited when you touched me like that."

"Nn!!" you fist the sheets in your hand, realizing just how far he fucked you to the edge of the bed — the two of you were nearly falling off the bed until uh, oops, you were on the floor?

"Ahh-ahhh! Ah! AH! Wh-what kinda... wrestling move is this, Satoru! Fuck, go easy on me!! 'M gonna cum again!!"

He's too into it to bother getting the two of you back on the bed. Now he's just pinning you down on the plush carpeted floor, railing your tight cunt from behind like he owns it. He may as well, honestly.

"Oh yeah?" he grunts, "Cum again on my cock. Lemme see you work it out on my cock. C'mon, isn't this the cock you wanted so badly? Put on a show for me, baby."

"Ahh!!" you sluttily cry out, bouncing your hips up and down and working your pussy on just six of his nine inches.

"Fuuuck... look at that back arch... haha, you already runnin' outta stamina? Yeah, tell me about it. It's hard work fuckin' a big cock, isn't it? Okay, okay, spoiled princess..." he mutters, hearing your exhausted pleas, "Perk that ass up, lemme show you how it's done."

"But this position is so — AH!" you kick your legs as he slides deeper with each quick stroke.

His tip's prodding at a spot you don't even recognize; a sweet gummy spot that's like your off button. You can't keep your mouth shut and now you're getting so loud that he's gotta clamp a hand on your mouth again, pushing you into the carpeted floor and not stopping his hard-hitting thrusts for a looong few seconds, driving it deep.

He picks up his pace, balls slapping into your clit so loudly that he can't even complain about the loudness of your moans. That skin-slapping 'n squelching could wake up the neighborhood.

"Fuck," he grunts, "Ah, ah... stay right there, 'gonna make you a mama..."

You thrash your legs around, "Nn! Please!" you squeal, feeling his warm seed pour into you again without warning. Just that feeling makes you cum. Hard. Satoru's cock freaks out at the feeling of your pussy's milking contractions along his length, making his tender tip spurt out a little bit more cum against your cervix.

It's so bad. You really shouldn't love getting creampied by an older man this much, let alone your... uh, boss?

Worse. He shouldn't have such a big fucking smile on his sweaty face. He shouldn't be rolling his eyes back in satisfaction like that, like he finds it so funny that he actually did it.

"God, you sure loved milking me, huh?" he smiles wide, bangs soaked and sticking to his sweaty forehead.

"Nnn..." you nod, totally exhausted.

He watches you trying to catch your breath, gulping and gasping. He slides his softening cock out of your over-creampied pussy, earning a small whimper from you. Oh, you feel so empty now, it's crazy. Just how did he pack all of that cock inside you? He can't figure it out, either.

"You okay, sugarplum?" he asks sensitively, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand.

"Yahhh..." you weakly whimper back, wiggling your foot cutely, "Need t' cleanup... need help w-walking..."

All his creampies bubble out your pussy.

He stifles a laugh, feeling a bit guilty. Satoru presses a kiss to your back, peeling you off the floor and practically carrying you to the bathroom — floor and walls black tiles, every corner spelling 'rich boy' in bold letters.

Carefully and slowly, Satoru helps to clean you up, massaging your sore parts with his big hands, peppering your neck in the sweetest little kisses as if he didn't just rearrange your guts and ruin your pussy for other men.

"So... how's it feel, not being a virgin anymore?" he asks with a dirty big bad fuckboy smile.

You simply blush and smile shyly in response. It makes him laugh.

"Aw, are you all shy now, pookums? Shit, I think I fucked tha nasty outta you..."

You nuzzle him, looking about ready to sleep, and it just melts his heart.

"Mm, y'know... Suguru was right about you; you're a real sweetheart. I think I might just have 'ta keep you around for a long time."

ㅤ🍒 x 🐇 x 💗@𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖎

ㅤ𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

@screampied (I KNOW IT'S BEEN LIKE A YEAR SINCE I LAST MENTIONED THIS FIC SORRY LOL) 💗 @pickledballer 💗 @wakashudou 💗@miseryyouth-99 💗 @ilovelokism 💗 @yuji-baby 💗 @natsuw181 💗 @madamechrissy 💗@magical-girl-bunny 💗@arminswifee 💗 @msheds0519 💗@nariminsstuff 💗@strychnynegirl 💗@satorupi 💗 @lvstru 💗@buniibloom 💗@tojijibaby 💗@peach-olic 💗 @mandistromboli 💗 @bwunniibell 💗 @nezukochaaann 💗 @valentine4738 💗 @katthekat1234 💗 @aryanaaa 💗 @astxrismstar 💗 @delusionalandabnormal 💗 @shadykittyperfection 💗 @pettypinkprincessblog 💗 @chososgf04 💗 @eliengoddes 💗 @peachmangoe 💗 @dollyschii 💗 @palegardenrebel

[spltbtch]

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 | and you're the (un)willing victim MDNI

warnings: afab/fem!reader, aged up characters, basically non-con, canon yuji/sukuna body sharing, sukuna calls you little bunny/little girl and yuji kid, spanking, nasty dirty sloppy fucking, multiple positions, cream pie, yuji secretly enjoys every second

all was quiet in the tokyo dorms of jujutsu high. crickets chirped outside your open window, your blinds flowing softly from the steady breeze outside. your sleeping body was unable to fight the goosebumps that kissed your skin. the chill swept across your room, your nipples perking up beneath your button-up pajama top. despite the frosty draft, you're still blissfully asleep when the door to your room creaks open. the towering figure of your classmate and good friend yuji stalks towards you, watching the rise and fall of your chest. he sucks in a breath, hands reaching out to squeeze your breast over your shirt.

you stir, eyes blinking open to your friend in front of you. "yuji?" you ask, trying to wipe the haze of sleep from your eyes. when you move to sit up you realize the large palm resting on your chest and you immediately stiffen in alert. "yuu?" you ask again, hand going up to pull off his own. you can't see his face well from this angle and for a moment you think he must be sleep walking. "yuji... are you awake?" your soft voice stirs something deep in his body, an uncharacteristic growl suddenly emits from your best friends lips. it's then he moves to straddle you, pushing you back against your bed. you look up at him, the light emanating from your open window providing you some clarity. this was not definitely not yuji. "sukuna..." you said, barely above a whisper. you see him smile before you hear the low chuckle that comes from deep in his chest.

"i wasn't expecting you to be such a light sleeper," he tells you. his gruffly voice all but confirms that this isn't the sweet boy you've come to know. he's still smiling, his hand reaching up to trace down your neck before spanning across your collarbone. the feather light touch brings a shiver down your body, highlighting your already taut nipples. he doesn't even try to hide his roaming eyes that land on your chest. instead he begins to unbutton your shirt, starting from the top button. you don't dare move a muscle. due to yuji's physicality, you knew you didn't stand a chance against him. even if he wasn't the king of curses, yuji's muscles alone gave him the strength to pop your head like a balloon. with sukuna fronting, that fact became even more obvious than before. without yuji's softness, his body was a lethal weapon that caused your heart to thump heavy against your ribcage. "scared, little bunny?" he asks you, his hands still slowly making work of your top. the nickname makes you frown and his grin only grows. "little bunny..." he teases, leaning down into your ear. his breath is hot and all encompassing. yuji's lips graze your earlobe and sukuna says, "you get it? because your little heart is going thump, thump, thump," he emphasizes every syllable and your body recoils. his hands undo the final button and he doesn't bother to look when he pulls open your top. your nipples hit the frigid air but they're quickly encased by his hands. his tongue reaches out to lick your ear, the sound of his heavy breaths almost deafening. you're stiff under him while he savors the taste of your skin. something wet hits your nipples and you jump. "you like that?" he asks you, pulling off one of his hands with a sickening pop. he shows his open palm to you, a sickeningly long tongue lolling out. you cringe and he only laughs, reaching down to keep teasing your nipples with his hand-tongues. your stomach clenches, becoming queasy while he has his way with you. "aww c'mon little bunny. put on a show for the kid," your eyes shoot to his, almost like you're trying to see yuji behind them.

"he's there?" you ask, your voice shaking a little.

"where else would he be?" sukuna retorts, his filthy hand-tongues move to explore more of your skin. their spit glistening against your skin and you try desperately not to lose your resolve. you don't want yuji to see you scared.

"is he always there?" you ask him back, intrigued slightly by the thought. you had always just assumed yuji went unconscious when sukuna took over. clearly you had been wrong.

"always, little bunny," he breaths heavy in your ear again. his mouth moving to your neck. soft kisses line your skin. his lips gentle in a way you didn't think possible for the king of curses.

"why are you doing this?" it's a brave question, but while sukuna was feeling talkative you thought you'd give it a try. the all-too-familiar grumble in his chest comes back, finding humor in your bravery.

"teaching the kid a lesson," he says simply. going back to exploring you with his mouth, moving down to kiss between your breasts. his hands lower to your hips, gripping them and massaging the plump skin.

"a lesson in what?" you gulp, helpless underneath him.

"in taking what you want..." he pauses for a moment, looking into your eyes. "you think this was all my idea? i have much better things to do than think about fucking some silly little girl all day," he presses another gentle kiss on your breast before meeting your gaze again. "told him if he just fucked you he wouldn't be so pent up all the time," another kiss to your nipple this time. his tongue swirls around the bud and you don't know what takes over you when your hip bucks up into him. he notices, but he doesn't comment. "thought i'd do the kid a favor and fuck you good since he was too pussy himself," realization slams into you like a bus. yuji... likes you?

you snap out of it almost as quickly as you thought it. this was sukuna speaking. nothing he said was the truth. he was a curse, and not just any curse. the king of curses. deceit came as easily to him as breathing. wait... did he need to breathe?

"you're lying.." you tell him. he continues smooching your chest, one of his hands grabbing your tit roughly, giving him a better angle to suck it into his ready mouth. you have no choice but to watch as he bites and sucks. he finally removes himself once he feels satisfied.

"you got me. i'm lying," he laughs, but his face remains serious. "not about the yuji thing though. the kid definitely wants to fuck you," he muses. "but fucking you is doing me the favor. he's been giving me a serious case of blue balls with how little he gets. haven't had a good fuck since being trapped in this body." his hands suddenly rip down your pajama bottoms, the force causing your body to jolt.

"please," you begin to plead. realizing all too suddenly just how serious the situation was. he ignores you as he peels your thighs apart with little effort. "i'll call for gojo!" you threaten without thinking and he pauses, his dark expression growing even darker.

"do it," he sneers down at you, "what do you think that blue eyed freak will believe when he comes in here and sees yuji balls deep in your tight little pussy? that the big scary king of curses is wasting his time fucking a student? or that you and the kid are horny little brats who go at it in the dorms? answer. quickly," he barks and your mouth hangs open. the way those dirty words fall from his lips without even a stutter making you hesitate. maybe he was right. if gojo came in, he would relinquish his hold on yuji's body and you both would not only be traumatized, but probably expelled. you decided you had to be brave for the both of you. you wanted to cry, for yourself, but also for yuji. he must be so mortified watching this. you had to endure—for the both of you. you don't give sukuna an answer and he doesn't bother to press. he goes back to what he was doing; his thumb spreading apart your folds. "take a look at that kid," he grumbles. "you picked a good one. didn't know they even made pussies like this anymore," your stomach rolls but you don't show it. his thumb moves to push into your cunt, his long nail scraping painfully at your insides. you wince but sukuna doesn't acknowledge it. "so wet, little bunny. who's this for?" he teases. he pulls his thumb out, reaching it up to his lips and popping it into his mouth. he groans, eyes closed like he's savoring the taste. "taste that yuji?" 'know you've been wondering what she tastes like for a while now," you desperately want to know the other half of the conversation you can't hear. you know yuji must be tearing sukuna a new one for degrading you in this way. both his thumbs go to spread your folds open and he parts his lips slightly. soon enough, a wad of spit trails down before landing on your clit. "take notes yuji. you have to play with this little thing," he says, pointing to your little bundle of nerves with his dark nail. "most girls can't come without stimulation here," he lectures. he reaches down to toy with it and you can't fight the natural reaction that he pulls from you. your hips lift a little as he spreads his spit and teases your clit. "see yuji? they become putty in your hands," you grimace but your hips don't stop rolling. his freaky hand-tongue makes a reappearance and you begin to see stars. "that's it little girl," he mewls. you grit your teeth to hold back your whines as the long muscle works you better than any of your vibrators could. shame washes over you at the thought and you struggle to collect yourself. "you gonna come already?" he teases, your hips rolling into his disgusting hand, trying to get the perfect angle. the tongue flattens, licking a fat stripe up your cunt before circling your clit with just the tip. this time you don't have it in you to fight the moan that escapes your lips. the tongue works you almost to completion in mere minutes. you're huffing, face dusted red as you close your eyes. trying to hold a semblance of control. "she's going to cum yuji," he tells him, even though he can clearly see. you bite your lip, your stomach twitching as your orgasm lingers just below the surface. "you wanna cum, little girl?" he asks you, almost sweetly. despite the desire to say yes you shake your head. desperately gripping on to the little bit of dignity you probably already lost. "no? suit yourself," he says nonchalantly.

his hand pulls away, a string of spit and slick going with it. sukuna pulls yuji's hardened cock out of his pants and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at the sheer size. his tip is red and drooling, the shaft longer than you thought possible. "please... don't do this," you plead.

"i have to. i'm only giving the kid what he wants," he tells you but you aren't sure you believe him. he says it so cooly, ignoring as you shake beneath him. "relax," he coos, "you're more than ready for it," you realize he's right as he slips right in. your cunt giving him little push-back. he groans so loudly you think someone had to have heard it. he pushes your thighs flat against the bed, the burn from the unnatural position almost distracting you from yuji's cock dragging against your walls. sukuna's eyes are glued to where you two connect and you swear a little bit of drool leaks past his lips. "you lookin' kid?" he asks yuji. "never seen anything so perfect in my life. fuck. this pussy was made for your cock," he's completely ignoring you. doing everything in his power to rile yuji up, you assume. frothy fluids quickly build at the base of his cock, the evidence of your arousal undeniable now. "'didn't know it was possible to get this wet this quickly," he says, more to himself. he's right though—in every aspect. you are freakishly wet, and yuji's cock felt suspiciously right buried deep inside you.

"are you almost done?" you wince after a particularly delicious roll. his hips begin to snap against your cunt meanly, yuji's cock bulging beneath your stomach with each thrust. when sukuna doesn't dignify you with a response, you assume the sudden roughness must be your answer. his eyes watch each bounce of your tits as he fucked into you with purpose.

"fuck, fuck, fuck" he groans, each snap loosening his own self control. "such a greedy little cunt," he grunts. "yuji? you've been awfully silent in there..." he says, still snapping into you with such force you feel like he's in your throat. "can't blame you kid. fuuuuuck," he pulls your legs up and over you, folding you in half without even pulling out. the change in position has you seeing stars. you don't stand a chance with yuji's cock reaching your cervix. his weight bearing down on you was a welcomed feeling. with each drag of his cock you lost yourself more and more into the feeling. your poor little pussy kept twitching from the beating she was taking and sukuna noticed each one. "you wanna come now? you gotta say it," he says to you. if he wasn't reaching places you didn't know existed you would be disgusted with his incessant need to make you admit just how badly you needed the release he was offering you. instead you meekly nodded, knowing you only had a few more strokes before you were done for. when he sees you nod, he pulls out abruptly, tossing you onto your stomach. he lifts your hips off the bed and you brace yourself for the new position. instead of sinking back in like you expected, he lands a punishing smack to your right cheek. you can't fight the cry that leaves your lips. "use your words, little bunny. or i'll edge you until you have no choice but to beg the king of curses," he lands another smack, angling to smack against your waiting pussy.

"ow!" you gasp. "please. please make me cum," the words leave your lips and so does all your dignity. but he's not done.

"who are you begging?" he asks you, and you furrow your brow in confusion.

"wha-?" you begin but he spanks you again, more harshly this time. definitely leaving a bruise.

"you know what i mean. are you begging me to fuck you, or the kid?" you aren't sure how to respond. you're scared if you say yuji, he'll switch back and yuji will be so mortified you won't ever get the release you've been needing for the past half hour. but if you say sukuna, you're not sure you want to deal with the consequences of that either. "times ticking," he grunts, growing impatient.

"i-i don't know," you admit and shockingly, he rubs your cheek soothingly.

"i-i'm gonna," you cry out, your back arching unnaturally as your orgasm hit you like waves against the shore. powerful, punishing, and never-ending. two strong hands gripped your hips impossibly hard, a foreign high-pitched cry filled the air followed by your cunt filling with cum. you could feel his cock bob with each heavy spurt of sperm he unloaded into you. you gasped at the overwhelming feeling of his hot load swimming inside of you.

"i get to chose then," he warns, but it sounds strangely promising. a few seconds pass. sukuna goes strangely silent before he suddenly buries into you from behind. you have to bite down on your hand to stop the noises that action pulled from you. he begins pumping into you with purpose. each rock of his hips causing your stiff nipples to drag across the sheets. his balls slapping rhythmically against your clit. there was something different about these strokes, though. they were rushed and unrehearsed, completely different than the rough pounding you were taking earlier. it almost felt.. romantic? it was unsettlingly raw but you didn't have time to question. you were far too busy focusing on your release.

as soon as he pulled out. yuji looked down at what he had done. his body shaking as he watched his jizz ooze out of your twitching hole. mortified, he collapsed in on himself. "yuu, you're back," you say, the sweet voice you've reserved only for him making its reappearance. "i'm so sorry yuji," you turn around to hold him, apologizing so sincerely it almost makes him sick. he doesn't say anything , letting you rub his back and coo at him. promising you know that he's not at fault. that that evil, wicked sukuna defiled you and that he was just as much as a victim as you were.

he could never tell you the truth though. that sukuna hadn't lied once and that it was him who wanted to be the one to finish you off. him who asked sukuna to switch the both of them. that he wanted, no needed to be the one to finish inside of you. claiming you with his powerful release.

[spltbtch]

̸/̸̅̅ ̆̅ ̅̅ ̅̅ Petals & Gunpowder (S.R)

Summary: You’re just a florist with trembling hands and a quiet life, until Sukuna, the city's most feared mafia boss showed up at inside your shop with blood on his skin and that crooked, carnivorous smile.

Substance: florist!fem reader, mafia boss!Sukuna, floweshop au, size kink, rough sex, mafia au, praise kink, blood mentioned, thigh riding degradation, Sukuna is WHIPPED, possessive behavior, car sex, semi-public sex (car), multiple orgasms,  hands on the wheel n ur ridin’ that dick, Sukuna wants you BAD, hurt/comfort, pet names, cockwarming, creampie, fingering (in a fucking resturaunt), blow job, man-handling, happy ending.

W/C: 12.6k

The bell above the door chimed softly, the delicate little ding you'd chosen to fit the mood of your flower shop–a gentle sound, unobtrusive and sweet, meant to welcome grandmothers and bridesmaids and flustered men looking for apology bouquets.

It wasn’t meant to herald him. It wasn’t made for the slam that followed it, loud and jarring and swift enough to make the door rattle on its hinges, sending a sharp gust of wind through the open entryway and blowing dried petals off the counter.

You didn’t look up right away. You were bent over your arrangement table, scissors in hand, carefully trimming stems and sorting through a bundle of soft blush roses and pale white freesia.

Your dress swayed gently with your movements, the lightweight cotton clinging to your thighs and catching at the curves of your hips every time you leaned in, and your apron–cream-colored with a faded floral print, tied with a wide ribbon at your back–was already stained with green and pollen.

 You had your hair pulled back in a loose braid, secured with a ribbon the color of rosewater, and the backroom was warm with sunlight, the scent of baby’s breath and eucalyptus clinging thick in the air. The world smelled like morning. Just like a garden. Like safety.

But that door slam–that shift in the air–sent a tremor of dread down your spine, enough to make your fingers falter on the stem you were trimming.

You looked up slowly, scissors still in your hand, and when your eyes landed on him, your breath caught mid-inhale.

He stood just inside the doorway, half-shadowed in the filtered sunlight, a towering figure of violence in repose. His black button-up clung to him like a second skin, thin enough to reveal the hard planes of his chest and the strain on his shoulders at the seams. 

The sleeves were rolled to his elbows, revealing veined, muscled forearms slick with blood, the kind that had already dried at the creases of his wrists but still shone wet across the curve of one bicep. His black jeans were torn at the knee and dark at the thigh, but not from fashion–they were soaked through with blood, and there was something thick and sticky on the toe of his boot that smeared against the white tile as he stepped inside.

And his face–his face was a masterpiece of chaos. Sharp and cruel, strikingly symmetrical in an off-putting way, with a jaw that could cut through glass and lips curled into something other than a smirk. His peach-pink hair was swept back with one lock falling loose across his forehead, wild and stained at the ends with a darker red that wasn’t dye. 

His eyes were alive–burning with a kind of cruel, amused glow that made you feel like prey even before he said a single word.

You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath until he tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

“Well,” he said, voice low and amused, “you gonna scream, or are you just gonna stare at me all day, sweetheart?”

Your mouth opened slightly, but the only sound that came out was a quiet, breathy “Oh.”

The scissors slipped from your hand and clattered to the floor.

He chuckled at that–an honest sound, deep in his chest, like he wasn’t just covered in someone else’s blood and bleeding from a gash near his collarbone. He stepped forward, not hurried but deliberate, his boots echoing across your tile like thunder in a church.

“I need a place to sit for a bit,” he said, his eyes flicking lazily to the nearest surface–your worktable, crowded with roses and buckets of floral foam. “You don’t mind, do you, flower girl?”

You blinked, the words struggling to form in your throat because he looked like he belonged in a back alley with a cigarette and a gun, not between bundles of baby’s breath and pastel carnations.

“I…this is a flower shop,” you said, your voice barely steady. “You can’t just–”

But he was already moving, brushing past you with a heat that made your skin flush despite the tension in your spine, his bloodied fingers catching lightly on the ribbon at your waist like it was just something in the way. He didn’t pull. He didn’t tug. He just let the pad of his thumb drag across it like he wanted you to know he could.

“I know what it is,” he said, settling himself into your work stool like he’d been invited, legs spread, one elbow draped over the edge of the table while the other hand reached up to run through his hair. His eyes never left you. “You sell flowers. You arrange them. You smell like sugar and wet leaves. It’s adorable.”

You should’ve run. You knew that. You’d seen the reports, the warnings on the news, and the grainy black-and-white footage of crime scenes left behind like art installations in red. The King of Curses, they called him. Not officially–there were no official records. Just whispers. Just the name Sukuna bleeding into every darkened corner of the city like smoke.

And he was here, in your shop, bleeding across your floor, sitting on your stool like he hadn’t just left a body cooling outside in the alley.

“You’re Sukuna,” you said, almost stupidly, like you needed to hear it out loud to make it real.

His grin sharpened.

“Ding ding,” he murmured, lifting one bloody finger like a buzzer. “I guess flower girls can be smart too.”

You flinched. Not visibly, but you felt it, like your nerves were raw beneath your skin. Still, you didn’t step back. You didn’t run. You weren’t even sure why. Maybe it was the way his voice settled low in your stomach, like heat curling around your spine. Maybe it was the blood. 

Maybe it was the fact that something about him didn’t just frighten you; it intrigued you. Like a match held too long between your fingers, burning and beautiful and impossible to let go.

“You need stitches,” you said instead, voice quiet.

He shrugged, the movement languid and uncaring. “I need a cigarette and some whiskey, too. But I’m not asking.”

You stared at him for a moment, your heart still pounding like a drumbeat in your ears. Then you moved–slowly, carefully–toward the back of the shop, your bare feet silent against the tile. 

You grabbed the small first aid kit from the drawer near the back sink and returned with it clutched in both hands, your fingers shaking slightly around the edges of the box.

He watched you the whole time.

You set the kit on the edge of the table and hesitated. “Can I…?”

His eyes dropped to the space between you, then flicked back up.

“You can touch me,” he said, voice suddenly quieter. “If your hands don’t shake too much.”

You hated how your cheeks warmed at that.

You stepped closer, reaching for the ruined buttons of his shirt, your fingers brushing lightly over his chest as you peeled the sticky fabric back. The gash was just beneath his collarbone, shallow but angry, and it oozed fresh blood when you pressed the gauze to it. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink.

You tried not to stare at the ink that coiled down his chest and ribs, intricate lines of black etched into skin that felt too warm under your palms.

“You’re not afraid,” he said suddenly, voice close.

You didn’t look up. “I am.”

He smiled again. This one was smaller. Fewer teeth.

“But you’re still touching me,” he murmured. “That’s brave, flower girl.”

Your lips parted slightly, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The sunlight caught in his hair, casting a peach-gold halo around the sharp planes of his face, and you thought–not for the first time–that nothing about him should’ve been beautiful, and yet everything was.

He smelled like blood and cigarettes and something ancient beneath it all, and your fingers trembled only slightly as you reached for more gauze.

“You’ve ruined my floor,” you said, finally.

He laughed.

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“You’ll buy me a new one,” you repeated, your voice flat as your fingers pressed fresh gauze to his bleeding chest. 

His skin was hot beneath your hand, firm and unyielding under the pads of your fingers, but the blood oozing between your knuckles was real, and sticky, and too thick for you to pretend any of this was normal.

“Mm.” Sukuna tilted his head back lazily, resting one elbow on the table behind him, his body was stretched and relaxed like he hadn’t just threatened to ruin your entire world a moment ago. “Tile’s ugly anyway. Might as well let me give the place a facelift.”

Your jaw tightened, not because you disagreed–truthfully, you’d been saving for months to replace the worn tile–but because the way he said it grated against something inside you. 

He talked like he could buy anything. Like nothing he touched mattered unless he could break it, bleed on it, or fully own it. And maybe he could.

“You bleed on everything you want to fix?” you muttered.

He cracked an eye open and smiled again, slow and lazy and wolfish.

“Only when I’m being polite.”

You didn’t answer that. You weren’t sure you could. His presence made you feel like you were constantly walking across thin ice layered over something hot and hungry and pulling you downward with every step.

He wasn’t even trying to be intimidating anymore–not really–but there was something in the weight of his gaze, the low heat in his voice, and the way he took up space in your shop without apology that made it clear he didn’t just expect to be obeyed. He expected you to want to.

You grabbed a bottle of antiseptic and dabbed some onto a clean cloth, gently pressing it to the wound. He didn’t flinch, didn’t hiss, and didn’t curse–just watched you, his eyes half-lidded and lips parted slightly as if amused by your attempt at carefulness.

“You’ve done this before,” you said softly. It wasn’t really a question.

"Had it done to me before," he said, his voice like whiskey filtered through a low growl. “Usually not this gently, though. You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?”

You didn’t respond, because you knew better than to give men like him anything too easy. Instead, you reached for the gauze again, winding it tight across his chest and securing it in place with a piece of medical tape.

The angle brought you closer to him than you’d intended, your face just inches from his throat, and you could smell the sweat on his skin, the faint hint of cologne beneath the iron-heavy scent of blood, and something darker–like scorched leather and the memory of fire.

You should have stepped back the moment you finished. You knew that. But you didn’t. Not immediately. Not until you realized he wasn’t breathing evenly anymore, that he was watching you with that same slow-burning intensity he’d worn the moment he walked in.

“You’re trembling,” he said, voice lower now, rougher. Not cruel, not mocking–just observant. Your fingers shivered as they touched his collarbone, as if he could read the movement of your lungs beneath your ribs.

“I should be,” you whispered. “You’re a killer.”

Sukuna didn’t laugh this time. He just looked at you–looked through you.

“And you’re a florist,” he said after a long pause. “What a pair.”

You swallowed thickly and finally took a step back, your knees stiff and awkward as your body remembered how to move. You dropped the bloodied cloth into the waste bin near the door and turned toward the sink to wash your hands, trying to ignore how the air behind you felt heavier now. You could hear him shifting on the stool again, the creak of the wood under his weight, and the low scrape of his boot against the tile, and then he was behind you.

You didn’t need to turn to know… You could feel him.

“You got a bathroom in here?” he asked, his voice closer than it had any right to be.

You nodded, staring at the porcelain sink. “Left of the backroom.”

He didn’t move right away, just stood behind you, so close you could feel the heat rolling off of him, the quiet hum of something volatile just beneath the surface of his stillness. And then he leaned in, just a little, just enough that his breath brushed the shell of your ear.

“You always help bleeding strangers, flower girl?”

Your eyes fluttered shut. Your fingers dug into the edge of the sink.

“No,” you breathed.

“But you helped me.”

You didn’t answer.

He moved away, finally, his footsteps slow and echoing as he wandered toward the back hallway. You heard the door creak open, then close with a soft click, and suddenly the shop was too quiet. Too still. You realized you were shaking, really shaking now, and you gripped the sink tighter just to feel something solid under your palms.

What the hell were you doing?

Why hadn’t you called the police?

Why were your thighs clenched under your dress?

The questions echoed and tangled in your chest, and none of the answers made sense. Because yes, he was terrifying. Yes, he was a killer. But he was also magnetic–dangerous and beautiful and burning so hot you could still feel the imprint of his presence on your skin, like he’d reached out and branded you with his gaze alone.

You detested how alive you felt in his shadow and how thrilled you were by it.

You turned the water on, scrubbing your hands clean, watching the blood swirl down the drain in pale pink ribbons. You rinsed your arms, your wrists, and your fingertips until they stung with cold, and the faint floral scent returned.

When you turned around again, he was back.

He stood in the doorway, half-shirtless, the ruined black button-up clinging loosely to his arms now, his broad chest still wrapped in your gauze. He had splashed water on his face, rubbing away most of the dried blood, but the angry gash on his temple still stood out, raw and red.

“You got anything to eat in here?” he asked, like this was the most normal visit in the world.

You blinked at him, incredulous.

“Do I–what?”

“Food, princess. Something soft. Bread. Pastries. Whatever you people keep next to tea.”

You stared at him. “I’m a florist. Not a bakery.”

He sighed, long-suffering, and flopped back onto the stool like he was exhausted. “Should’ve shot the guy faster. Wouldn’t have had to run if I hadn’t taken my time.”

You opened your mouth to ask if he was serious–but stopped. Of course he was. He wasn’t trying to impress you. He was just existing, comfortable in the mess he made. And you–like an idiot–were still standing there, heart hammering and cheeks flushed and thighs still too warm beneath your cotton skirt.

You walked toward the mini fridge at the back of the shop, still on autopilot, and pulled out a wrapped scone from a glass container. You’d made them the night before, made of lavender and lemon. You didn’t even think as you offered it to him, like you weren’t standing in front of a war criminal in pastel gingham and floral print, offering him pastries.

He took it without a word; he peeled back the wrap and took a bite.

And then, shockingly–he moaned.

“Oh, fuck me,” he groaned. “That’s good.”

You blinked, stunned.

“Didn’t expect that.”

“I bake,” you said automatically. “For customers. Sometimes for me.”

He took another bite and gestured with his free hand. “You got a man?”

You stared at him.

“What?”

“You heard me.” He licked a bit of sugar off his thumb. “Someone who’d be pissed that I’m sitting here bleeding all over your floor and making you blush.”

You felt your face heat.

“I don’t–” you started, then shook your head. “It’s not your business.”

He smiled, slow and knowing. “That’s a no.”

You bristled, annoyed by his smug tone and by how easily he read you. “Why do you care?”

Sukuna stood then, stretching tall, the muscles in his abdomen flexing under the soft gauze. His jeans still rode low on his hips, and you hated the way your eyes dipped down. Hated more that he noticed.

“I don’t,” he said, stepping toward you. “Not in the way you think.”

You held your ground.

He stopped in front of you, barely a breath between your bodies.

“But if you’re gonna feed me, fix me up, and look at me like that?” His voice dropped, low and thick with heat. “Then you better start thinking about what you want from me, flower girl.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came.

He leaned in, just close enough for his breath to brush your lips, and whispered, “Because I take what’s mine. And if you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’m going to find out what kind of sounds you make when I bend you over that bouquet table.”

You gasped–sharp and involuntary–and he grinned.

Then he stepped back, licking the last of the scone crumbs from his fingers.

“Thanks for the snack,” he said, strolling toward the front door like he hadn’t just turned your knees into jelly. “I’ll be back.”

You watched him leave in stunned silence, the bell above the door chiming once as it shut behind him.

⋆˚✿˖°

The front of the flower shop was unusually quiet that afternoon, save for the crinkle of a chip bag and the occasional hum of a pop song leaking out from a half-broken speaker near the register. The bell above the entrance was still, the breeze outside warm and lazy, sunlight spilling in over rows of freshly misted peonies and wildflower bundles. 

Nobara Kugisaki had one leg hooked over the other, her foot tapping the air in a rhythm that matched the beat of the song she wasn’t really listening to. Her stool teetered slightly as she leaned back on it, completely at ease, a half-eaten bag of spicy chips in her lap and a soda can sweating beside the register.

Her feet were up on the counter, a sight that would’ve made you groan if you’d seen her, and there were definitely a few crumbs in the petal tray beside the register. But you were in the back–fussing with a bridal arrangement, hands elbow-deep in blush garden roses and baby’s breath–so Nobara took full advantage of the peace.

That is, until the bell above the door suddenly chimed with a sharp ding, followed by the low creak of the door swinging open and a gust of wind heavy with exhaust fumes.

She didn’t look up right away.

“Hey,” she said through a mouthful of chips. “We close at–”

Then she looked.

And choked.

She spluttered violently, chips flying from her lips as she tried to sit up straight, but the stool betrayed her, its back legs kicking out as she tipped, flailing, and fell ass-first behind the counter with a crash and a loud, undignified “Fuck!”

With the late afternoon sunlight behind him creating long shadows on the floor, Sukuna Ryomen appeared more like a monster than a human as he stood in the doorway. His peach-pink hair was swept back in clean waves today, a few lazy strands hanging in his face, and he wore a black double-breasted jacket over a black silk shirt, open halfway down his chest to reveal the ink curling around his collarbones.

 His matching slacks were tailored to perfection, and his boots, polished to a lethal shine, thudded once against the floor as he stepped in fully. Three other men followed behind him–two flanking him like bodyguards, one lagging just a little, chewing gum and looking distinctly uncomfortable surrounded by so many daffodils.

“Fucking hell,” Nobara muttered from behind the counter, scrambling to her feet with wide eyes as she slapped chip dust off her pants and tried to look like a functional employee.

Sukuna surveyed the shop in one long, slow sweep, his brow ticking slightly as his eyes landed on the counter display–soft plush teddy bears arranged among lilacs and hydrangeas–and he made a sound in his throat that might’ve been a scoff or a sigh or some terrible combination of both.

He stepped toward the counter, slow and deliberate, the sharp click of his boots echoing with a predator’s rhythm.

Nobara straightened so fast she cracked her back. “Can I help you?” she asked, voice too high.

Sukuna didn’t answer at first. He stopped in front of the register, leaned forward slightly, one hand braced on the counter as his height brought him down to eye level with her, and tucked his other hand into his coat pocket. He tilted his head, eyes heavy-lidded, and said her name like it was a question he already knew the answer to.

“You’re not her.”

“Nope,” Nobara said, popping the ‘p’ as she pushed her sleeves up to her elbows. “She’s in the back. You want me to–?”

“Where is she?” he asked, his voice smooth but laced with the kind of danger that made her stomach do a weird little drop.

Nobara blinked. “Who?”

He smiled, slow and cold, and said your name. Without hesitation or preamble, he acted as though it tasted good.

Nobara blinked again, then screamed for you while turning around.

From the back room, your hands were wrist-deep in a bouquet of white roses and forget-me-nots when you heard her. 

“What?!” You shouted back, fingers still weaving wire through the stems.

“Uh,” she called again, her voice breaking slightly, “you’ve got a... visitor?”

You frowned, your brow pinching, and stepped back from the bouquet to wipe your hands on the towel tied around your waist. Your dress fluttered with the motion–a handmade thing you’d sewn from soft ivory fabric patterned with tiny blue flowers, cut to flatter your frame in the way you liked. 

The bodice was corseted just enough to push your breasts up high and firm, the neckline a soft scoop that left your collarbones exposed and dusted with shimmer. The waist was cinched tight with a sash in the back, making the gentle swell of your hips all the more pronounced. The skirt fanned out in soft layers, grazing your knees with every step.

You didn’t think much of it as you stepped through the curtain, pushing your braid over your shoulder, your hands brushing at the wrinkles in the skirt as you emerged.

And immediately froze.

Sukuna Ryomen turned toward you with a gaze that burned.

He didn’t blink. Didn’t move.

Didn’t even breathe.

The rest of the shop seemed to vanish behind the thrum of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. His eyes dragged down your body, slow and unapologetic, tracing the curve of your breasts in that tight floral bodice, the slope of your waist, and the gentle bounce of your hips as you stood in the doorway, blinking at him with wide, unsure eyes.

And then, out of nowhere, he said:

“You’ve got birthing hips.”

The air went dead silent.

One of his men coughed so violently he nearly choked. Another let out a quiet “Jesus Christ” and turned toward the succulent shelf to busy himself. The third made a noise like he was stifling a laugh and promptly bumped into a display of tulips trying to cover it up.

You stood frozen in place, your jaw slightly slack, your cheeks burning like hellfire had crawled under your skin. Nobara was making strangled wheezing noises behind the counter, her face buried in her arm.

Sukuna stepped forward, slow and measured, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Did you make that dress?” He asked, his voice low and rough and entirely inappropriate given the context.

You swallowed. “Yes.”

“It suits you.”

You wanted to smack him. You also wanted to die. You also wanted to turn and run into the walk-in cooler and never come out again. But you stood your ground, even as your thighs clenched and your palms grew sweaty against your skirt.

“What do you want, Sukuna?” You asked, finally, carefully.

He smiled at the sound of his name in your mouth.

“You,” he said.

One of his men made a quietly horrified noise.

Nobara whispered, “I’m gonna kill myself,” behind her hands.

Sukuna’s gaze didn’t waver. “Relax, flower girl. Not like that.” Then, smirking wider, “Unless you’re offering.”

Your eyes narrowed, and he held up a hand, palms out in mock surrender.

“I came to place an order.”

You stared at him. “You’re a mafia boss. What the hell do you need flowers for?”

He tilted his head, watching you like a tiger watching a fawn.

“Maybe I’m sending a message,” he said. “Maybe I just want to see what you’ll make when I don’t give you any rules.”

You blinked.

“...What?”

“You heard me.” He nodded toward the counter. “Write up whatever you think fits me. I want it in three days. Wrap it nicely. I’ll pick it up myself.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly parted, struggling to decide if he was serious or fucking with you.

“Fine,” you said after a beat, voice tight. “But it’s gonna be expensive.”

His grin was molten. “Baby, I hope so.”

The men behind him groaned like they were in actual pain.

“Let’s go,” Sukuna said, turning to them, his coat flaring behind him. “We’re done here.”

As he walked past you, he leaned in, low enough that only you could hear him, and said,

“Don’t wear anything less flattering next time. I’d hate to be distracted when I bend you over that counter.”

You gasped audibly, and he laughed–full and delighted–before the bell chimed again and he disappeared out into the sunlight like a fucking fever dream.

You stood there in stunned silence, your breath shaky and your heart clawing at your ribs, your body buzzing with adrenaline and embarrassment and a molten throb deep in your gut that you absolutely refused to name.

Nobara popped her head up from behind the counter.

“I hate you,” she said. “But also... that was hot.”

You closed your eyes and exhaled.

⋆˚✿˖°

Three days passed in a syrupy kind of haze, stretched out and too full of thoughts you didn’t want to have. You kept your hands busy in the shop–wiring stems, fluffing petals, cataloging new shipments–but nothing dulled the way your mind kept circling back to the sound of your name on Sukuna Ryomen’s tongue. 

You tried to ignore the way you caught yourself glancing at the door, half-expecting the bell to chime before the clock struck noon, or the way your fingers tapped the counter with impatient energy as you worked on wedding arrangements you could no longer focus on. 

Every time you looked at the cooler, you saw the bouquet waiting for him, and it made your stomach twist in a way that was neither fear nor excitement but something filthier–something dangerous and far too alive.

The bouquet wasn’t a peace offering. It was a weapon, disguised in velvet and lace. You started with datura–delicate, curling white blossoms that looked like soft trumpets but reeked of poison beneath the perfume. You handled them with gloves, snipping their stems and setting them high in the arrangement like a crown. 

Beneath them, you layered monkshood, its rich, deep violet flowers peeking through the foliage like secrets, followed by glossy black berries from a branch of belladonna nestled between curling ferns. 

You added a bleeding heart for irony, then snapdragons and strands of hemlock that brushed the bottom edge of the bouquet like teeth. Every bloom was soft. Every one of them could kill you.

You didn’t explain it to anyone. Nobara had peeked into the cooler once, lips twisted in awe and mild concern. 

“You made that for him?” she asked, sucking powdered sugar off her thumb, her brow quirked as she stared at the bouquet like it might whisper curses. 

You had only nodded, peeling off your gloves and rinsing your hands at the sink.

 “It’s a gorgeous fucking arrangement,” she said. “But it looks like it wants to hurt someone.” 

You simply replied, “That’s the point,” and went back to work. 

You didn’t mention how your hands had trembled a little while tying the black silk ribbon, or how you couldn’t stop picturing his face when you slipped the finished bouquet into the cooler like a caged predator.

By the time Friday rolled around, you were restless, your skin too sensitive beneath your dress, your nerves electric. The flower shop was quiet around three in the afternoon, and you were alone at the register, legs curled under you in the cushioned stool, flipping through invoices with half your attention.

Your dress was soft again today–another handmade piece of cotton muslin, this one ivory with gold thread embroidery along the bust and waist, cinched tight with a floral sash at the back. It hugged your chest just enough to leave your shoulders bare and your breasts slightly lifted, the neckline dipping low, your collarbones catching the late sunlight spilling through the windows. 

Your hair was loosely curled and pinned back, soft strands framing your face, your lips tinged faintly with berry gloss. You weren’t going to admit, even to yourself, that you’d dressed like this because part of you wanted him to see it.

The bell chimed once, clean and clear.

You didn’t look up immediately, but you didn’t need to. His presence hit you first–the sudden change in the air, the way it pulled tighter, heavier, and more intimate. The first crack of thunder before a downpour was how it felt. You looked up, breath catching in your throat as Sukuna stepped inside like he had every right to be there, which he did, in that sharp black coat left open to reveal a silk shirt beneath, loose at the collar, chest half-exposed and inked with swirling black lines.

His slacks were tailored perfectly, his boots clicking neatly against the tile, and his peach-pink hair was styled with deliberate mess, a single loose strand hanging down over one glowing eye. He looked less like a man and more like something carved out of want, out of violence and desire and dry humor–all confidence and dangerous charm, like the moment between a match strike and a fire.

“You always smell like this,” he said, his voice low, smooth, and warm like sin slipping behind your ear. “Or is it just for me?”

You closed the folder in your lap and set it aside before standing, straightening your skirt with one hand as your gaze met his. “It’s a flower shop,” you answered, your voice calm even as your pulse started racing. “It smells like flowers.”

“Sure,” he said, stepping forward slowly, his eyes flicking over your body without shame, the way a man looks at something he’s already claimed. “But it clings to you. You smell like sugar and cut stems. It’s a problem.”

“Not for me,” you said, holding your ground as he neared.

“No,” he said, stopping in front of the counter. “But it will be for me if I can’t stop thinking about it later.”

You ignored the way that made your stomach tighten and moved to the cooler, reaching inside with slow, deliberate care as you lifted the bouquet from its glass shelf. You held it between both hands, cradled against your chest like a gift or a curse, the dark blooms dripping elegance and quiet threat beneath their polished silk ribbon. When you turned back to face him, Sukuna’s mouth twitched faintly into something unreadable.

“That’s for me?” he asked, voice suddenly quieter.

You nodded once. “Every flower in here is poisonous. Most of them could kill you if you ate them. Or touched them the wrong way.”

His lips parted just enough to show the edge of his teeth. “That a warning?”

“No,” you said, voice steady. “It’s a reflection.”

For a moment, he just looked at you–no grin, no smartass reply–just eyes locked to yours like he was trying to feel every word from your mouth through the space between you. Then he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a thick black envelope. He dropped it on the counter without counting it. “Keep the change,” he said, his voice low and almost distracted, his gaze still fixed on your lips.

You set the bouquet down gently on the tissue-lined surface and leaned over to untie the envelope, glancing inside only briefly. It was at least double what you’d normally charge.

“Excessive,” you murmured.

“Your work’s worth it,” he said, stepping closer. His fingers brushed the ribbon on the bouquet absently, dragging down the silk until it pooled slightly against the counter. “You always put this much effort into your arrangements?”

“Only when I don’t want to be forgotten.”

He grinned at that. “Not a fucking chance.”

You opened your mouth to answer, but then he did something that caught you completely off guard. He reached into his coat again and pulled out a second bouquet. Smaller. Wrapped carefully. Delicate, yet strong in its colors–burgundy ranunculus, midnight cornflowers, ivory anemones, and little strings of clematis winding around the base, all tied with a soft red velvet ribbon.

You stared at it for a full five seconds.

“You brought me flowers,” you said finally, your voice flatter than you meant.

“Don’t read into it,” he said, watching your face. “I didn’t pick ‘em. I had someone put it together. Just told them what I wanted it to look like.”

You reached for it slowly, your fingers brushing his as you took the stems, and for the first time since he’d walked in, you couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“They’re beautiful,” you said softly, almost shyly. “I didn’t expect…”

“I don’t give gifts,” he said. “But I give back.”

You swallowed, nodding, the velvet ribbon brushing your wrist like a second pulse.

Sukuna looked at you for a long moment, then tilted his head slightly, his voice lower now. “Go out with me.”

Your eyes flicked to his. “What?”

“I want to take you somewhere. Nothing fancy. No setup. Just dinner. Somewhere I can see you in this dress under different lights.”

You stared at him, chest tight with nerves you hadn’t felt in years. “Why?”

"Because I want to know how you speak when you aren't behind the counter. I want to know what you order. I want to know what makes you laugh. I want to see how far down that ribbon goes when you sit down in a booth.”

You should have slapped him. You should have turned him down on principle. But you didn’t. Your fingers were still curled around the stems of the bouquet he brought you, and your heart was thudding somewhere under the corset of your dress like it was trying to claw its way out.

“Yes,” you said, your voice soft and serious.

He smiled slowly and broadly, and for once, it wasn't cruel. It wasn’t dangerous. It was simply pleased.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

And with that, he turned and walked out, the bell chiming softly behind him as he left you standing there in your best dress, holding flowers you hadn’t made, your whole chest buzzing like someone had cut open your ribs and whispered something obscene into the center of your heart.

⋆˚✿˖°

The ride had been quiet, not out of discomfort, but tension. That humming silence in which there was too much going on beneath the surface to be disturbed by small talk. He’d picked you up in a sleek black car with windows tinted so dark they may as well have been mirrors. 

The driver didn’t say a word. Sukuna hadn’t either, not until you slid into the seat beside him and the door closed with a soft finality.

He didn’t compliment you, didn’t react overtly to the way the fabric of your dress pulled tight across your thighs when you crossed your legs, or how your perfume clung like a promise in the narrow space between you, but the way he looked at you for those first three seconds had been enough.

Slowly and deliberately, his gaze lowered to the low neckline that scooped just above your breasts. Then, as if he were memorizing every curve, he dragged it down your body before turning to face the front with one hand resting idly against his thigh. 

That silent decision not to say anything had set your skin on fire.

You were now sitting across from him in a private room of a restaurant with no outside signage, one of those word-of-mouth establishments that only the wealthy, violent, or terrifyingly connected seemed to frequent. 

The room was dim, intimate, and rich in detail, with mahogany-paneled walls, gold-dusted sconces that burned low like candlelight, velvet drapes drawn back from tall, soundproof windows, and a ceiling fan turning slowly overhead to circulate the faint scent of saffron, smoke, and honeyed wine. 

You sat in a curved booth made of deep red leather, polished so smooth it barely creaked beneath you, and the table between you was set with silver cutlery, a half-finished bottle of wine, and a floral centerpiece that looked tame and fragile compared to what you could have made yourself. You wondered if Sukuna noticed that.

Your dress clung like sin–midnight blue satin that hugged your hips and cinched your waist, sliding down your body like it had been sewn in place. 

The fabric shimmered faintly with each breath you took, each tiny movement of your thigh beneath the table. It dipped low across your chest, leaving the tops of your breasts perfectly framed, flushed from heat and the two glasses of wine you'd nervously sipped before he even ordered anything. 

Your shoulders were bare, skin brushed with highlighter, your collarbones catching the light like an invitation. Your hair was pinned up in a loose, romantic twist, a few strands falling on purpose to frame your face, and your lips were painted just slightly darker than your natural tone–enough to make them look bitten, but not enough to look desperate.

Sukuna sat across from you with his legs spread slightly under the table, one arm draped along the backrest of the booth, his posture casual in the way men are only when they know they control the room. 

He wore black again, naturally, but tonight it was more decadent–slim tailored pants and a button-up shirt left open at the collar to expose the top of his chest and the thick black ink that curled along his skin. His sleeves were rolled to the elbow, exposing the sharp veining in his forearms, and there was a lazy confidence to the way his fingers traced the edge of his wine glass. 

His peach-pink hair was pushed back away from his face with a slight wave, one piece falling forward just above his brow, and the candlelight flickered faintly against his cheekbones and jaw like even the fire knew better than to burn too close.

He hadn’t said much since you sat down, only giving the waiter a nod before requesting privacy, but that didn’t mean the room lacked communication. 

His eyes did all the talking. They stayed on you–hovering shamelessly at your chest, dropping to the curve of your hips when you shifted your weight, then returning to your face like he wanted to see if you’d noticed how thoroughly he was undressing you. 

You didn’t speak either, not at first. 

There was nothing to say that wouldn't sound like stalling, and you had the strange feeling that if you opened your mouth, you'd either laugh nervously or beg for something you couldn’t name yet.

“Eat,” he said finally, his voice low and thick with restraint. He tilted his head toward the untouched plate in front of you, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I didn’t bring you here to starve.”

You glanced at the dish, realized you didn’t even remember the waiter bringing it, and picked up your fork with a slightly unsteady hand. The food was expensive, probably perfect, but you couldn’t taste it–not with the way his eyes followed the movement of your lips every time you raised your glass to drink or pushed a bite past your mouth. 

He hadn’t touched his food either. His wine, yes. His silverware, no. It became apparent after five minutes that he hadn’t brought you here to eat either.

“I wasn’t sure you’d say yes,” he said after a pause, his voice quieter now but no less intense.

You lifted your gaze from your plate, your throat tightening slightly. “Why?”

He shrugged, swirling the wine in his glass lazily. 

“You’re careful. You act like you’re not scared of me, but your hands shake when I touch you.” He took a sip. “Women like you don’t usually say yes to men like me unless they’re running from something worse.”

You didn’t flinch, but you didn’t answer either. Instead, you held his gaze, not challenging, not cowering–just steady. And for a brief moment, you shared something other than flirtation, danger, or tension. It was understanding. 

An acknowledgement that this wasn’t a first date. That none of this had ever been innocent.

Then he reached into the side of the booth and pulled something from the interior pocket of his jacket. He didn’t make a show of it. 

Didn’t speak. Simply place it on the table between your wine glasses with the same ease that you would set down a napkin or phone. You recognized it right away, the matte-black finish, the light weight, and the subtle glint of the safety catch. A pistol.

Your body went still.

He watched your face closely as your eyes dropped to it. There was no real fear, but there was caution. Tension. Your fingers froze around the stem of your glass, and your breath came a little shallower.

“I’m not going to use it on you,” he said after a beat, his voice softer than before. “I don’t even want you to be scared of it. I just don’t hide shit from people I want to keep around.”

You blinked slowly, processing the weight of that statement–people I want to keep around. You didn’t ask what that meant. You didn’t ask who else had seen his weapons, or what kind of promises he made with his hands that weren’t verbal. 

You just nodded faintly and took another sip of wine, your hand finally steadying.

A silence stretched between you again, but this time, it didn’t hum with nerves.

 It was weighted with something else entirely–desire thickened by awareness, the kind that made your thighs press together beneath the table, your dress tightening slightly at your waist as your spine straightened under his gaze.

Then he spoke again, quieter than before, and the change in tone sent a shiver down your back.

“Come here.”

You blinked, the words taking a moment to land.

“I said come here,” he repeated, nodding toward the seat beside him. “Sit on my lap.”

You opened your mouth to answer, unsure if you meant to protest or breathe his name, but your legs were already moving. You slipped from your side of the booth with care, smoothing your skirt down with one hand as you rounded the table.

Your heels clicked softly on the floor, muffled by the heavy carpet, and as you approached him, he watched every movement–his eyes flicking from your knees to your hips to the slight sway of your chest and finally to your face, his lips parting just slightly as you stepped into his shadow.

His hands reached for your waist as you stood beside him, the pads of his fingers dragging over the fabric of your dress like he was already imagining what it would feel like without the barrier of silk. 

He guided you down slowly, one hand on your hip and the other sliding to the small of your back, and you settled onto his thigh, your legs draped to one side, your hand braced on the top of his chest to steady yourself. 

The position forced you close–closer than you’d ever dared to be–and you could feel the hard muscle of his leg beneath you, the warmth of his skin under the fabric, and the slow, dangerous pace of his breath brushing your throat.

“You always sit this pretty,” he murmured, dragging his fingers down the curve of your waist, “or just for me?”

You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to. He could feel the way your breath hitched, the way your hand curled tighter into his shirt, and the way your body softened against his hold.

His hand slid to your hip again, gripping tighter now, not enough to hurt but enough to claim. His nose brushed your jaw, and he inhaled once, deeply, like he was memorizing the scent of your perfume, the warmth of your skin, and the tension in your spine. 

His lips never quite touched you, but they hovered–dangerously close–just over the shell of your ear as he murmured, “I’ve thought about this since the moment you walked out in that fucking dress.”

You turned your face slightly, not daring to look him in the eyes, and he responded by tightening his grip again, dragging you half an inch closer, enough that you could feel the heat from the place his thigh pressed between your legs.

Your breath caught audibly, and he smirked, his voice dipping into something darker.

“You gonna let me touch you, flower girl,” he asked, “or are you gonna keep pretending you didn’t come here hoping for exactly this?”

Your lips parted, but the words didn’t come. Maybe they were never meant to. The room felt warmer now, thicker, like the air itself had grown heavy with want, with the kind of lust that made your skin buzz and your chest rise too fast.

Sukuna’s hand, still anchored firmly to your waist, moved slowly downward until the heel of his palm pressed against the flare of your hip, fingers flexing against the silk of your dress like he could feel the heat of your skin underneath. 

You didn’t look at him. You couldn’t–not with how dizzy you felt from his scent alone, how close his breath was as it fanned across your throat.

Then, deliberately, he brought his other hand up, sliding it along the length of your thigh where your dress clung the tightest.

He dragged his palm up slowly, fingers spread, thumb pressing into the soft curve of your inner thigh until you shifted without meaning to, hips tipping forward and body arching faintly into the pressure. 

He exhaled a quiet, almost amused breath against your skin, and you shivered when his nose brushed just under your jaw.

“So soft,” he murmured, voice hoarse with restraint. “You really wore this for me, didn’t you?” He kissed you then–not on the lips, but lower, right beneath your ear, where your pulse fluttered like a bird’s wings. 

His mouth was warm and smooth, lips firm, tongue flicking out to taste you as if he already knew you’d be sweet, as if he was right and he just wanted you to feel how thoroughly he planned to prove it. 

He didn’t ask permission when he dragged that same hand further up your thigh, palm cupping the heat between your legs through your dress, his grip steady, possessive, his fingers pressing into the soaked satin stretched tight over your cunt.

You gasped, the sound soft and shocked and completely involuntary, and Sukuna’s mouth curved into a grin against your skin.

 “That wet already?” He whispered, dragging his hand slowly, rhythmically over your core. 

“Didn’t even touch you properly, and you’re already fucking soaked.” He raised his head just enough to look at you, and the heat in his eyes was enough to knock the breath out of your lungs.

 “You want to ride my thigh like some desperate little thing?” he asked. “Or are you gonna sit still and pretend you don’t want me to ruin this pretty dress?”

You didn’t answer with words. You couldn’t. Your hips moved on instinct, the drag of satin against your clit making your eyes flutter, your fingers tightening around the front of his shirt as you ground down against the thick muscle of his thigh. 

The pressure was just enough to send a sharp pulse of pleasure up your spine, and you let out a shaky breath that could have easily been a whimper. Sukuna growled low in his throat and slid his hand up your back, pulling you closer, chest to chest, so close you could feel his heartbeat where it pressed against your ribs. 

He kissed you then–hard and filthy and without warning, mouth slanting over yours with heat and hunger, his tongue pushing past your lips as his fingers dug into your hip to grind you harder down against his thigh.

The kiss was messy, open-mouthed, teeth clashing for a second before he sucked on your tongue like he wanted to devour you whole. 

Your lips parted in a gasp when he broke away, only to kiss you again, slower this time, his mouth hot and slick and possessive as he stole every breath you tried to take.

 His hand moved back between your thighs, rubbing slow, firm circles over your clit through the fabric while you rocked against him, the friction of satin and strength and heat making your whole body ache with want.

“Fuck,” he muttered, biting your bottom lip just enough to make you gasp. “You’re fuckin’ trembling. You really gonna come just from this?” 

You moaned softly against his mouth, your hips moving more desperately now, chasing every stroke of pressure as your clit throbbed under his hand. 

He caught your chin in his fingers and tilted your face up, forcing your eyes to meet his even as your hips moved faster, thighs shaking.

“Look at me,” he said, voice thick and dark. “I wanna see your face when you come.”

You tried to keep your eyes on his, but it was too much–the way he touched you like he already owned every inch of you, the way he watched every twitch and shiver like he was memorizing how to break you open with nothing but his hands and his mouth and that fucking voice. 

His thigh flexed beneath you, solid and strong, and your cunt clenched hard around nothing as the heat in your stomach coiled tight, tighter, your movements frantic now, too slick, too fucking close.

Then his hand slipped lower, fingers dragging the fabric of your dress to the side until the thin scrap of your panties was the only thing between his touch and your soaked pussy. 

He groaned at the sight, thumb pressing hard against your clit as his other fingers dipped beneath the fabric and found your slit, soaked and throbbing, lips already spread from how much you'd been grinding.

He didn’t ask. Didn’t wait. He just pushed two fingers inside you, slow and deep, his thumb still circling your clit as he curled them up to find that spot that made you cry out loud, your hand flying to his shoulder for balance.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he hissed against your neck, pumping his fingers deep inside you, fucking you on his lap like he couldn’t wait to see how your cunt would feel around his cock instead. 

“Tight and wet and fucking greedy. You’re sucking me in like you’ve needed this all fucking week.”

Your moans spilled out of you now, breathless and broken, your hips jerking with every thrust of his fingers, every drag of your clit against his palm and thigh, your muscles coiled so tight you felt like you were going to shatter.

You reached for his face, kissing him hard, messy, teeth and tongue and desperation as your orgasm started to build too fast, too sharp, everything hot and wet and perfect.

“Come on,” Sukuna growled, voice rough in your ear. “Come for me, flower girl. Let me feel how wet you get when you break.” 

His fingers fucked you faster, harder, the wet sounds of your cunt obscene in the quiet room, his thumb pressing mercilessly against your clit until your legs gave out and you came with a cry muffled into his shoulder, your entire body tensing as the orgasm tore through you.

You shook against him, your cunt fluttering around his fingers, soaking his palm and the silk of your dress, your face buried against his throat as your breathing came ragged and fast. 

He didn’t stop until you were limp, until the aftershocks made you twitch, until he was sure you couldn’t take anymore. 

Then, finally, he pulled his fingers from you, lifting them slowly to his mouth and sucking them clean like he didn’t care how filthy he looked, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Tastes like heaven,” he murmured, and you were already sinking against him again, thighs slick and trembling, dress wrinkled and bunched around your waist.

Your lipstick was smudged, mouth open in disbelief at what just happened in a restaurant booth where someone could walk in at any moment.

One second you were still collecting yourself, the next you were on unsteady legs and flushed skin clinging to Sukuna's arm as he walked you out of the restaurant’s back hallway. The scent of him clinging to your skin like the ghost of what he’d just done to you. 

Your panties were still soaked beneath your dress, clinging uncomfortably between your thighs, and every step made the aftershocks of your orgasm pulse quietly in your core. 

The hall was dim and empty, the luxury restaurant already halfway closed to the public at this hour, and the silence between you wasn’t awkward but thick with heat, like the night itself was holding its breath.

He kept a hand on your waist as you exited through a private back entrance, one he’d arranged without you even realizing it, and the heavy door clicked shut behind you with a finality that made your breath catch. 

The parking lot was nearly empty, all but one sleek black car pulled up against the far end, tinted windows and matte paint that gleamed like oil under the streetlamp. 

Sukuna walked you across the pavement slowly, his hand never leaving your body, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your hip like he hadn’t just fucked you on his thigh minutes ago.

When he opened the car door, the interior light flickered on to reveal the wide, leather backseat already pulled forward, the cabin practically humming with warmth. You hesitated for a half-second, unsure if he meant for you to slide in first or–

His hand dropped to the small of your back and pressed you in, not roughly, but with purpose, guiding you as you slipped into the backseat and settled into the leather with your thighs still pressed tight and your dress bunched slightly at your hips.

The door shut behind you with a soft click, and then he was there, stepping in after you, stretching his long body across the width of the seat like the space was made for him. His knees bracketed yours as he adjusted, slouching slightly with his legs open, eyes raking over you with a hunger that hadn’t dulled in the slightest.

Your breath trembled when his hand came up again, this time resting on your thigh, fingers spread wide over the still-warm silk of your dress. 

He didn’t speak–just looked at you, his face cast half in shadow from the faint streetlamp outside, and there was something about the way he sat there, so composed, so calm, with his hand gripping your thigh and his breathing thick and low, that made you shift closer without thinking.

You weren’t thinking, not really, as your hand found the front of his slacks. He was already hard. Not just firm or thick–massive. You could feel the sheer size of him through the fabric, and your fingers curled slightly, the outline of his cock making your throat go dry. 

You glanced up at him once, but he didn’t stop you and didn’t even flinch. He just watched as you moved, as you slid your hand along the length of him, as your mouth parted with the realization that you weren’t sure you’d even be able to fit him in your mouth, let alone take him fully.

But you still tried.

Your fingers worked at his belt, slow but clumsy, the tension making it nearly impossible to focus. You got it undone, finally, then unzipped his slacks with trembling hands, the sound of the zipper loud in the quiet car. 

He shifted slightly to help you, and your breath caught when his cock sprang free–long, thick, flushed deep with arousal, the tip already glistening. He was fucking huge. 

Huge enough to make your thighs clench in unspoken fear and desire, and big enough to make your heart race with heat and nerves.

You leaned down slowly, your hair falling over your shoulder as you curled your fingers around the base of him. He was heavy in your hand, hot and pulsing against your palm, and you licked your lips once before lowering your mouth. 

Your lips wrapped around the tip, tongue sliding against the head as you sucked gently, uncertain, trying to mimic what you’d seen in porn and what felt right. 

You hollowed your cheeks slightly, sliding down as far as you could, but it wasn’t far–your jaw stretched uncomfortably wide, and you could feel yourself gag slightly when you hit the midpoint.

Sukuna groaned low in his chest, his hand sliding into your hair to cradle–not guide, not force, just hold–and the warmth of his palm made your stomach tighten. 

You sucked him slowly, clumsily, your tongue dragging along the underside as you moved your head, your hand working what your mouth couldn’t reach. You tried to breathe through your nose, your eyes beginning to sting as the pressure built, but you didn’t stop. 

You wanted to do it right. You wanted to please him.

“You’re not good at this,” he muttered, voice rough and full of restraint, “but fuck, you’re trying.”

You whimpered around him, your cheeks heating in shame, but he didn’t push you away. 

He stroked your hair again, gentler this time, and you felt him twitch in your mouth. “Pretty mouth. Gonna make me come if you keep sucking me like that, messy and desperate.” 

You moaned softly around him, your tongue swirling, mouth wet and noisy now, saliva dripping down your chin as you pumped his cock with both hands and lips, letting the tip drag against the roof of your mouth before pulling off with a gasp.

“Fuck,” you breathed, wiping your chin with the back of your hand. “You’re too big–”

He cut you off by grabbing you under the arms and dragging you onto his lap with a low growl, your dress riding up to your waist as he settled you across his thighs.

“Good thing I’m not asking for your mouth anymore,” he said, voice thick with hunger, one hand wrapping around the back of your neck as the other pushed your soaked panties to the side.

You were wet. Still. Your folds slipped easily under his fingers, slick with arousal and need, your cunt pulsing at the thought of him inside you. He lined himself up without ceremony, and before you could say a word, the thick head of his cock was pushing between your lips, stretching you wide as he sank into you slowly. 

Your mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut as the pressure built–tight and hot and overwhelming. He was huge and too thick, the stretch almost unbearable, and your fingers dug into his shoulders as you gasped. 

“Fuck–Sukuna, you’re–”

He kissed you with such force to shut you up, tongue sweeping into your mouth as he bottomed out, your body trembling around him as your cunt spasmed at the fullness, the pain mingling with the sharp edge of pleasure. 

He didn’t move at first, letting you adjust, your breath panting into his mouth, your nails scratching down his chest as you tried to relax.

Then he rolled his hips once, slow and brutal, and your eyes snapped open.

He fucked you slow at first–deep thrusts that dragged every inch of his cock through your slick walls, his hands gripping your ass as he pulled you down hard to meet every thrust. 

The sound of wet skin filled the car, obscene and filthy, your cries muffled against his neck as he whispered filth into your ear.

“You’re taking it so fucking well,” he groaned. “This tight little cunt’s made for me. I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t think.”

You could barely breathe, let alone think. Each stroke hit deep, grinding against that spot that made your vision blur, and your hips rocked to meet him, desperate for more, for faster, for harder. He gave it to you.

He lifted your hips and slammed you down on his cock again and again and again, his pace brutal now, his breath ragged in your ear as your walls clamped down around him.

You were close again–too close–your thighs shaking, your nails leaving half-moons in his skin. Your orgasm ripped through you fast and sharp, your scream caught in your throat as your cunt fluttered wildly, gripping him hard, soaking his lap as you came with a sob.

He didn’t stop.

He pulled you closer, held you tighter, and kept fucking you through it with the kind of punishing rhythm that triggered shock waves throughout your entire body. His cock swelled inside you, and his pace stuttered.

Then he growled in your ear, “I’m gonna fill you up.”

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t breathe. You just nodded, clinging to him as he buried himself deep one final time and came with a deep, guttural groan, his cock pulsing as he spilled hot inside you, the pressure of it so intense you whimpered again, cunt still fluttering from aftershocks.

You stayed there like that–panting, wrecked, full–with your forehead pressed to his collarbone and his hands stroking your back, slow and soothing, as if he hadn’t just fucked you within an inch of your sanity in the backseat of a goddamn car.

Once again your body was limp in his lap, your dress still bunched at your waist, your breath sticky against his throat, and the next his hands were under your thighs, lifting you with ease, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist like you were afraid the contact might break if you let go. 

He carried you to the drivers car door like you weighed nothing, opened it with one hand, and dropped into the driver’s seat with you still fully seated on him, facing forward, your slick thighs spread over his lap as he adjusted the mirror like this was the most natural way to operate a vehicle.

“I’m not getting out,” you murmured as he reached past you to buckle the seatbelt around both your bodies, his hand grazing the side of your breast as he clicked it into place.

“Didn’t ask you to,” he said, voice thick with arousal and amusement, his mouth brushing your jaw as he started the car. “You’re staying here until I say otherwise.”

The engine purred under you, and so did he. You could feel the swell of his cock beneath you again, not fully hard yet but thick and alive under your soaked panties, still twitching occasionally inside the confines of his slacks. 

Your dress was a mess around your hips, barely covering anything, and your skin felt raw in the best way, every bump in the road sending a new jolt of overstimulation through your core. 

His hand gripped the wheel, casual and possessive, while the other rested low on your thigh, his thumb brushing slow, hypnotic circles into your skin as the city lights passed in smears of gold and red.

The car smelled like sex and heat and expensive cologne, and you couldn’t stop shifting on his lap, your cunt still leaking from earlier, sensitive and needy, like your body didn’t realize he hadn’t finished with you yet. 

You weren’t sure what possessed you–maybe the wine, maybe the high from your orgasm, maybe just the knowledge that this man could ruin you and would happily do so again–but you rolled your hips against him, slow and deliberate, your head resting against his shoulder as you pressed down on his cock through his pants.

“You’re insatiable,” he muttered, glancing down at you with a grin that bordered on feral.

“You made me this way,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as your hand slid between your bodies to unfasten his belt again.

His breath hitched as he drove one-handed through a red light, not even flinching when someone honked in the distance. You pulled his cock free again, thick and flushed and heavy in your hand, and shifted your hips until he was pressed directly between your soaked folds.

It wasn’t inside, just nestled there, warm and slick, the head dragging through your dripping cunt as you rocked forward.

“You better not make me crash,” he growled.

“Then drive faster,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

The next ten minutes were a blur of traffic lights, you grinding down against him while he cursed under his breath, his hips lifting off the seat every time your clit caught the ridge of his cock. 

By the time the building came into view–tall, modern, the kind of tower that screamed power and privacy–you were dizzy with need, and he was fully hard again, cock throbbing against your swollen pussy as you whimpered into his throat.

He parked in a private underground spot, shut off the engine, and had you out of the car in seconds. Your legs wrapped around him again without hesitation, arms clinging to his neck as he carried you to the private elevator, tapping a key card to a panel with the same hand gripping your ass. 

The moment the doors closed, his mouth was on yours again–hot, devouring, impatient–his tongue thrusting between your lips as he ground you against the bulge in his slacks.

“I should fuck you right here,” he growled against your mouth, biting your lower lip until you gasped. “You’re dripping all over my fucking clothes.”

You could barely answer, barely breathe. Your whole body felt like an extension of his grip, and every drag of his hands made you twitch with want. But he didn’t fuck you in the elevator. 

He waited until the doors opened directly into his penthouse–a massive, open space with black marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, dark furnishings, and the scent of leather and money everywhere. He didn’t flick a single light on. The city lit the entire room in blue and gold.

He kicked the door shut behind him and didn’t stop walking until he hit the center of the living room. He didn’t set you down. He adjusted his grip and slid your body down just enough to press the head of his cock against your soaked entrance, your panties shoved aside, your thighs barely hanging onto his hips.

“I need to taste you screaming again,” he muttered against your neck.

And then he pushed inside–slow, thick, all of him at once.

You gasped, tightening your arms around his shoulders as he filled you to the brim. There was no easing in this time. There was no time to breathe, adjust, or plead. 

He fucked you standing with brutal strokes, your dress bunched around your waist, your breasts pressed against his chest, your mouth falling open with every thrust as your back scraped faintly against the smooth front of his shirt.

 The sound of your cunt squelching around him echoed in the open space, lewd and shameless, and he grunted with every movement, his hands gripping your ass as he bounced you on his cock like you weighed nothing.

“So fucking tight,” he groaned. “I’ll never stop thinking about this pussy.”

You moaned louder, unable to hold it in, your face buried in his neck as he fucked you harder, faster, the slap of skin against skin almost drowned out by your cries. 

He didn’t pause. Didn’t falter. He simply held you there, cock pistoning into you with obscene force as he shifted slightly, adjusting his angle until you were clawing at his back, your voice catching in your throat.

When he finally dropped onto the massive couch behind him, he never let you go. He landed with you still on his cock, the shift in angle making you arch like you’d been electrocuted, and his hands gripped your hips so tight you knew you’d bruise. 

He thrust up into you, lifting you slightly only to slam you back down, again and again, the entire couch shifting beneath you.

“That’s it,” he panted, mouth against your throat, “take it, baby. Take all of it. You’re fucking made for this.”

You could barely answer. Could barely think. You were already so close again, cunt fluttering with every thrust, your clit dragging against the edge of his pelvis until the pleasure built sharp and cruel and blinding. 

You cried out as your orgasm slammed through you, cunt spasming around him, and he cursed low in your ear, groaning as he slowed just enough to let you feel every inch as he fucked you through it.

When your body went limp, shivering in his lap, he didn’t stop. He leaned forward, mouth catching yours again in a deep, slow kiss, and thrust up one final time–deep, hard, buried to the root–and came with a ragged groan, his cock twitching as he filled you again, his breath hot against your lips.

His hands stroked your back, your hips, and your thighs as you came down from the high, your chest heaving against his, and after a long, quiet beat, he exhaled and leaned his head back against the couch.

“This place could be yours too,” he said, voice thick, almost lazy, as if the offer had always been there, just waiting for the right moment to be said aloud.

You whimpered softly in response, too wrecked to form words, but the way your nails curled against his chest made it clear you heard him–and that some part of you wanted to believe it.

⋆˚✿˖°

The room was quiet, lit only by the faint blue wash of early morning threading through the sheer curtains. The penthouse was still, the city below distant and muffled, its sounds too far away to touch the silence curling in the air. 

The bed beneath you was massive–king-sized, maybe bigger–draped in dark linen that smelled like him, warm and thick and masculine, laced with the tang of sweat and sex. 

Your body ached in a way that had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with the way Sukuna had fucked you like he was trying to bury himself into your skin and never come back out.

You tried to shift, just slightly, but the arm around your waist tightened instantly. His body was flush against yours, bare and solid behind you, chest to your back, one leg slotted between yours to keep them spread even in sleep. 

His cock was still inside you–soft now, but thick enough that your cunt clenched involuntarily at the stretch. You were sore, used, leaking his cum down the inside of your thigh, your pussy still swollen and raw from how many times he’d taken you last night, and yet–he hadn’t let you move. 

Not when he slipped into you again late at night, not when he mumbled something possessive against your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you like a temptation, and not even now, as your body squirmed faintly from the dull, needy ache that was beginning to build again.

“Sukuna,” you whispered, voice dry and hoarse, but your hips betrayed you, rocking ever so slightly against the cock nestled deep inside you.

He groaned low behind you, his voice still heavy with sleep, his lips dragging against your nape. “You awake now?” he murmured, the rumble of his voice vibrating against your spine. “Good. Stay still.”

You let out a breathless sound, something between a whimper and a plea, but you didn’t move away. His hand slid up your body, over your ribcage and beneath your breast, cupping it lazily as he pulled you tighter against him. 

His thumb brushed over your nipple slowly and deliberately, and your cunt clenched around him instinctively, wetness gathering despite the soreness.

“You feel that?” he said, voice rasping against your ear. “You’re already fuckin’ wet again, and I haven’t even moved.”

Your hand reached behind you, weakly pressing at his hip in protest, but he just chuckled, biting down on your shoulder, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make you gasp.

“Let me warm up inside you,” he whispered. “Just for a bit. I wanna feel you wrapped around me while I wake up.”

You trembled under the weight of his body and the heat of his cock inside you, unable to fight the slow, creeping pleasure curling back into your belly. 

He wasn’t moving–just staying buried inside you, full and heavy, his hands smoothing over your waist and stomach like he was mapping out all the ways you’d already given in to him. 

His mouth returned to your neck, kissing the bruises he’d left the night before, lips dragging over each one like a signature.

“You look pretty like this,” he said, voice thick with fondness and filth. “Fucked out. Full of my cum. You can't even think clearly, can you?

You whimpered, your head lolling back against his chest. “Hurts,” you whispered. “I’m sore.”

He hummed in mock sympathy, but his hand was already sliding down between your legs, fingers brushing your clit with a featherlight touch.

 “I know, baby. That’s how it should be.” He kissed your temple, his cock twitching faintly inside you. “You’ll get used to it.”

You didn’t try to fight it. You were too far gone. Too warm. Too full. He pressed his palm flat against your stomach and kissed your neck again, this time slower and softer, and the way he held you made your chest ache.

“I’m gonna build you a garden,” he muttered against your skin. “Right outside the city. Something huge. Roses, nightshade, all that shit you like. You’ll have a whole fucking glasshouse if you want it.”

You let out a faint laugh, breath hitching as his fingers moved more firmly over your clit. “You don’t know how to garden.”

“I don’t need to,” he said, smirking. “I’ll buy a mansion with one. Or shoot some fucker who already has it.” He kissed the side of your throat again. “Some rich asshole with a pretty Alice in Wonderland spread. I’ll hand you the deed with blood on it.”

Your cunt clenched again, and he groaned deep in his throat. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he whispered. “Waking up in a bed like this, my cock still inside you, a dead man’s garden waiting outside.”

You could barely answer. You were already grinding down again, slowly, your body ignoring the soreness as slick began to drip once more from your cunt, your clit brushing the curve of his palm with every desperate shift.

He laughed again, low and pleased. “Good girl. Now let’s see if I can make you come without even pulling out.”

A/N: I got a job at a cafe :3 anyway pls like, follow & reblog or imma give this blog up lmfaooo ALSO PLS GO CHECK OUT MY OTHER WORKS

[spltbtch]

cam boy!gojo fucking shy!reader on a livestream. You don’t know how you agreed to do this with him, but you did. Maybe it was his charming smile or sultry voice that dragged you in and made you nod yea at every question of his, but now you were standing here completely naked before he started his stream.

“I’m nervous,” you mumbled.

“I’m right here with you, sweets, okay? Just let me do all the work. You sit here and look pretty.” He pecked your cheek, clicking the start live button. Loads of people came flooding his chat, already donating money before he could even do anything.

He sat there in his computer chair, you propped up in his lap while his hand caressed over your ass. “Hi everyone.” He smiled, looking at the chat.

user54902: who’s the girl??

You hid behind your face behind your hand, nervously blinking as the viewer count kept rising. “As you can see I have a special guest with me. She’s a little shy so be nice with her, yeah?” He looked up at you, smiling. “Say hi, sweets.”

“H-hi everyone.” You waved to the camera, giving an awkward smile. If you could barely survive having a normal conversation how were you going to survive being completely naked and fucked in front of hundreds of people. You were having second thoughts.

bigd1ckguro: she’s adorable can’t wait to hear her scream ($100 donated)

ovrwrkd&hrny: shy ones are always the freakiest

“She is adorable, isn’t she?” He squeezed your cheeks with his hand, placing a wet kiss on your lips. “You ready?” He whispered in your ear. You bit the inside of your cheek, giving him a small nod despite your heart pounding desperately in your chest.

Gojo has you completely exposed to everyone watching, legs hooked behind your ears that you can’t even squirm away if you wanted. His cock is splitting you open full nelson style. He’s so deep, each thrust rummaging against your g-spot threatening to make your squirt. “Ah! Ah! Fuck!” You cry out, breathing heavily when he starts to go crazy, fucking you like animal. “S-slow downnnn!” Your toes curl, eyes rolling back when you feel the pressure build up in your bladder.

“Awe, you gonna squirt? I’d think they love if I made that pretty pussy squirt all over the camera,” he huffs, gently biting at your earlobe. “Come on, sweets, fucking give it to me.”

“My god!” The feeling is so intense, and you’re trying so hard to hold back, but you pry open your eyes and stare at the camera before your eyes flicker down to the chat, loads of comments and donations pouring in about making you squirt.

whimperyb0y: bet she squirts so fucking much, wanna watch her gush ($75 donated)

cultofpu$$y: she’s so drunk off his cock how cute ($125 donated)

Gojo’s cock reaches deep, hitting that sweet spot over and over, so determined to drive you over the edge. You already feel it coming, clenching your eyes shut and turning your head away from the camera as if it was going to do anything. “Shit, shit, shit! I’m c-cummingggahhh!” You’re screaming in pleasure when you feel the heavenly release, warm liquid gushing out of your pussy, splashing everywhere and soaking Gojo’s thighs. “Yessss!” Little waves of squirt keep pouring at your pussy as he fucks you through your orgasm, leaving your brain completely fried.

bigd1ckguro: fuck yeah she’s a messy little thing, love hearing her scream

ovrwrkd&hrny: she’s got it all over the camera

cultofpu$$y: god she just made me cum so fucking hard

“That’s a good fucking girl,” Gojo praises, pressing a kiss to your cheek, unhooking his arm from under your leg and reaching between your thighs to give your pussy a few slaps. “You got me fucking soaked, sweets,” he chuckles, slapping your wet pussy just enough to tease your swollen clit. Small whimpers escape your throat as lay there nearly lifeless from the orgasm you just had.

whimperyb0y: creampie her pls

ovrwrkd&hrny: ^^ breed her cunt wanna watch it drip out

Gojo pressed another kiss to your cheek before he began thrusting up into you again as he rubs your clit in slow circles. Small gasps and whimpers are all that you manage to let out, your orgasm literally draining you, but you can’t get over how good it all feels. “Faster…please,” breathlessly say, your hand reaching up to grope at your tits and pull at your nipples.

Gojo listens without asking, your pussy loudly squelching around his cock with the faster he goes, rubbing your clit at nearly the same pace. You head falls back on his shoulder, jaw slack when feel the curve of his cock reach your sweet spot again. “Fuckk, you look so damn good like this.” His eyes rake over your sweaty body before making eye contact with you. Reaching a hand up, you pull him for a kiss, tongue messily sliding against each other like you’re starved, biting at his bottom lip and drinking his moans.

cultofpu$$y: shy girl ain’t so shy now

ovrwrkd&hrny: she just needed to come out her shell, I could tell she was nasty to begin with

“God, baby, you’re gonna make me fucking cum,” he breathes. “Let me cum inside, sweets.” He pecks your lips, rubbing your clit faster as his thrusts get more and more sloppier, driving both himself and you to the edge. “Oh fuck…oh fuckkk…holy shit, you’re gonna squirt again, huh?” He holds back on his orgasm as much as he can just so he can watch your pussy gush around him one last time. You don’t even say anything, you just allow it to overtake you again, toes curling and eyes rolling back when that pressure releases for the second time. “Ohhh yes, yes, baby.” Gojo messily rubs your clit as you squirt, letting it get everywhere between you, him, the floor, his camera and the chair.

The feeling of your cunt squeezing around his aching cock makes gojo cum earlier than he was expecting, his hips jolting and twitching with each rope of cum shooting up into your pussy. “Oh…oh shitttt. Milk my fucking cock, baby.” You grind you hips up and down slowly, feeling his sticky cum paint your walls, oozing out from the sides and back down his cock. “There you go, atta girl.”

bigd1ckguro: that was fucking hot

user54902: donated $200

hereforg0j0: donated $100

g00nerg1rl: I need them both so badly!

ovrwrkd&hrny: she needs to come back on stream again

whimperyb0y: I came so much my dick feels like it’s gonna fall off

cultofpu$$y: what’d I do to taste her cunt rn

“Fuck me,” Gojo chuckles. “That was one hell of a stream, right? Thank you guys for the donos and support, I appreciate you tuning in and watching me have fun with this cutie right here.” Gojo’s hands slide up your waist and to your tits, squeezing them gently. “But, it’s time to end stream and check back next week. Bye, bye!” He flashes a smile. “Say bye, sweets.”

“Bye, guys!” You wave, lazily smiling while reading the chat.

g00nerg1rl: bring her back for next weeks streammmm!

bigd1ckguro: bye cutie, you made my night enjoyable

ovrwrkd&hrny: bye shy girl <3

user54902: tell her to make her own channel

whimperyb0y: pls tell me she has a nsfw twt???

cultofpu$$y: no other girl you bring on next with top shy girl

authors note: did yall guess who some of the usernames belonged to??? lmaooo

[spltbtch]

Yuji fucking you and clueless Choso walks in.........

The apartment was warm, dim and filled with disgusting sounds of sloppy thrusts and pathetic little sobs. Yuji had you face-down on the couch, knees spread on the cushions, ass tilted up so high it had your cheek smushed into the spit-soaked pillow below. His fingers gripped your waist tight enough to bruise, holding you down in place as he slammed in deep—cock punching into your messy hole over and over, every thrust lewd and wet and it had your pussy drooling all over his balls.

It was almost feral with how messy and loud it all was.

“Yuji—! Yuji, slow—f-fuck, it’s too—!” you gasped, fingers curling into the cushion.

“You can take it,” he groaned behind you, voice ragged as he snapped into you. “Godddd babe, your slutty little pussy’s squeezing me so tight—you’re so greedy, you miss this dick that bad?”

You whined, the words making your face burn even hotter. Yuji was always so sweet in public—always the golden boy everyone knew and was fond of, kissing your forehead and holding your hand. But the second he got you alone? He was nasty for it. Addicted. Always mouthing at your ass, fingering you while you were brushing your teeth, humping your thighs in the shower just because they were soft.

So you didn’t hear the front door creak open.

Didn’t hear the quiet footfalls.

Didn’t notice Choso standing there until Yuji shifted your hips and you caught sight of him in the hallway.

Choso was just… there. Standing. Blinking. Face blank and completely unphased, like he walked in on you two playing cards.

Yuji didn’t even realize at first. He was too busy rutting in deep, tugging your hips back against his pelvis while staring at your ass jiggling lewdly with every motion.

You squealed, trying to push back against Yuji’s stomach. “Yuji! Yuji, Choso—!”

“Huh?” Yuji blinked, panting. He turned his head—and froze. “Oh fuck—”

“Are you guys…wrestling?” Choso asked, head tilting. His tone wasn’t sarcastic. He was deadass serious. “Why is she crying?”

You were in fact, sniffling—face wet, eyes glassy, tongue poking from your lips as you trembled from how good Yuji had been fucking you. Yuji was still inside you, too stunned to pull out.

Yuji sputtered as his eyes widened. “No! Choso, I—bro, you can’t just walk in—!”

Choso took a step forward.

You both screamed in sync.

“Choso, get OUT—!” Yuji was trying to fumble for a throw pillow to cover your bare ass.

Choso frowned. “You’re hurting her?”

Yuji looked like he was going to combust. “No—! I mean, yes—but in a good way!”

Choso squinted like he didn’t believe what Yuji said. His eyes drifted down between your thighs—still dripping, Yuji’s cock still buried inside you—and he hummed. “Oh. this is sex”.

“YES, this is sex, what do you think this is?” Yuji practically shouted.

You let out a broken moan and shoved your face into the pillow. “Yuji, pull out please, oh my gosh—he’s looking”

Yuji yelped and finally slipped out of you with a wet pop! sound that made Choso’s eyes widen.

“Why is it so noisy?” Choso asked with confusion written all over his face.

Yuji buried his face in his hands.

You were a mess—leaking, shaking, still flushed and aching for more and Choso was standing there like a confused cat in a room full of cucumbers.

“…Can I try next time?” Choso asked thoughtfully. “She looked like she liked it”.

“GET OUT!!”

But still obviously, Choso didn’t budge—Not even when Yuji scrambled to tug his hoodie down over your hips. Not even when you tried to hide your face behind your hands, whining like a kicked puppy. He just stood there in the hallway, arms at his sides, a little head tilt like a confused NPC trying to trigger dialogue.

“I’m not leaving,” he finally said, slowly blinking. “I have questions”.

“Oh my gosh,” Yuji groaned, forehead thudding against your back.

You tried to wriggle away but Yuji’s hand reflexively held your hip still, like his body forgot he wasn’t supposed to be fucking you anymore. You were both flushed and sweaty, still panting, the room sticky with sex—and Choso was barely reacting.

“…What kind of questions?” Yuji asked warily, as if bracing for a bomb.

Choso took a step closer.

You and Yuji both flinched.

“How come her hole was all… frothy?”

You made a sound. Yuji slapped a hand over your mouth before it turned into a shriek.

“She—uh—got wet,” Yuji said quickly, face crimson. “She gets really wet sometimes”.

Choso blinked. “That’s not pee?”

Yuji looked physically ill. “No?! No, what—dude, what the fuck—why would—”

Choso nodded slowly, absorbing the information like it was part of a lecture. “So when you said she was ‘squeezing’ you… you meant inside her vagina”.

“YES”.

“She doesn’t look very strong”.

“…It’s muscle, bro. She—babe, stop laughing, you’re not helping!”

You were wheezing into the pillow, your whole body trembling from the effort of staying quiet.

Choso leaned a little closer, eyes scanning between your legs, then to your ass, then back to your messy thighs. “And she likes it like this? Bent over? Getting her ass clapped?”

“Don’t say it like that!” Yuji practically cringed. “Don’t say ‘ass clapped’ like you read it off Reddit!”

You whined. Your thighs rubbed together instinctively. You were still soaked—your body didn’t care how embarrassed you were, especially with Yuji’s voice in that broken boyish register, trying to defend your honor while you were leaking down your legs.

Choso noticed.

“Why is it still dripping?” he asked, pointing. “You stopped, but it’s still leaking”.

Yuji actually gagged.

“Get out, Choso. Please. I’ll explain everything later. Just—just give us five minutes”.

Choso looked at you. At your glassy eyes. Your ruined thighs. The way you still arched into Yuji’s touch without meaning to.

“…Can I watch next time?”

You squealed. Yuji lunged for the nearest object to throw and beaned him with a couch cushion.

Choso didn’t even flinch. He just stood there and caught the pillow, then dropped it like it was contaminated.

“I’m serious,” he said.

Yuji stared at him, stunned and red-faced and slack-jawed.

“I’ll think about it,” you mumbled with a flustered face.

Yuji turned to you like you just agreed to start a cult.

[spltbtch]

It was innocent—truly. You just grabbed the first oversized shirt you could find after your showered, the one draped over the back of the couch. You didn’t even check which Fushiguro it belonged to. It was soft, a little too big on you, smelled like detergent and boyish cologne. You assumed it was Toji’s, naturally.

So when you padded into the kitchen in just that shirt and a pair of panties, humming while rummaging through the fridge, you didn’t expect to hear a pause in the doorway.

Megumi’s voice came low and hesitant as if he didn’t even want to ask. “..Is that mine?”

You froze mid-reach, a yogurt cup in hand, and turned around slowly.

Megumi stood there with his brows slightly furrowed, hair messy like he’d just rolled out of bed—possibly just woke up from a nap, wearing joggers and a hoodie half-zipped. His eyes weren’t angry but he was staring. Definitely staring.

You blinked like you couldn’t fully comprehend what he said. “What?”

He motioned toward the shirt draped loosely on your frame—his shirt, now clearly recognizable from the tiny bleach stain on the sleeve.

“That’s mine. Not my dad’s”.

Your stomach flipped in embarrassment. “Oh. Shit”. You looked down like it would suddenly change the fabric, as if the realization might make it shrink off you.

Megumi shifted on his feet, voice a little quieter now. “You thought it was his?”

“…Yeah,” you muttered, cheeks already heating up. “I just grabbed it. Didn’t think”.

His eyes dragged down to where the hem barely covered your soft thighs. “Clearly”.

You swallowed. “You want it back?”

He looked away for a beat, jaw tight with a soft sigh. Then shook his head. “Nah. Keep it. Looks—” He stopped himself. “—fine on you”.

And with that, he turned and walked out, leaving you rooted to the tile floor, a little flustered, a little too aware of how warm the shirt suddenly felt.

Later, when Toji got home and caught you still wearing it, his eyes narrowed.

“That mine?”

You immediately cringed. “No…it’s Megumi’s”.

Toji just raised an eyebrow, but he smirked, stepping closer. “You comfy in my son’s clothes now?”

“It was an accident!”

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “You better not make a habit of it or he might start thinking you’re his”. A pause “And you’re not. Right?”

You turned pink under his stare, nodding quickly. “I’m yours”.

“Damn right you are”.

His hand tugged at the collar. “Now take this off before I make you take it off in front of him just to give him back”.

the next morning, he noticed it folded neatly on Megumi’s bed.

And Megumi noticed the hoodie he had left on the couch was now missing.

[spltbtch]

HIS BABYSITTER FANTASY COME TRUE!

𝖘𝖚𝖒.ㅤ★ Dilf!Gojo fantasizing about taking his babysitter's virginity 'till it becomes a reality and oops... now he's fucking you off the bed 'n taking this to the floor like a wrestler!

𝖜𝖈ㅤ★ 6.7k (beefy like his di-)

𝖈𝖜ㅤ★ strictly NO under 18s, smut, virginity loss, plot, fucking the babysitter trope, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms/creampies, cunnilingus, aftercare 🫶, age gap (Gojo in his 30s, reader in her 20s), solo masturbation, pet names (good girl, slut, etc.), breast play, subtle breeding kink, daddy kink, big d!ck Gojo, he um... fucks a pillow while you give him an innocent massage

"I've always liked older men. Boys my age just don't get me, you know? Neither do they know how to fuck me."

That was one of the first things you said to Gojo Satoru.

And he nearly had a heart attack. Choked on his drink so hard that he had to spit half of it back into the glass.

How could you say something like that with such an angelic voice? It didn't match up, your words were nasty but your face was innocent.

Wiping his mouth, Satoru tried to recompose himself.

"Is that so...?" is all that he could manage to reply with.

He tugged at his baby blue shirt's collar, unbuttoned one button 'cause he couldn't breathe. His blood was pumping. His heart was thumping.

"How old did you say you were again?" you asked softly.

"Thirty-two." he replied. "And way too old for you."

"Perfect." you smiled.

"Huh?"

Mmm... now what did his best friend say about you? "Oh Satoru, I know a babysitter that you and the kids will just adore. She's a real sweetheart."

A sweetheart... uh, yeah, well Suguru didn't warn him about the fact you had a thing for dads. Didn't warn him that you might be crazy. Touch-starved. A way too horny and provocative twenty-something year old virgin.

Maybe Suguru didn't even see this side of you... maybe it was just Satoru that you were throwing yourself at. Surely Suguru would have told him all about a heated affair that he had with a babysitter... right? Or was he the only daddy that you fantasized about fucking your pretty brains out?

Just the thought of that being true made his ego swell and his blood rush down to his heavy cock. He loved thinking about the obvious fact that you laid in bed touching your pussy to the thought of him.

He endured your flirting. Held his hands behind his back. Bit his tongue. Told himself that he can't make out with his hot babysitter on a random Sunday afternoon, as much as he wanted to, because that was diabolical.

You were sitting on the couch alone some nights, ensuring his kids were entertained and fed and happy, while he was at work. You watched their favorite cartoons until they felt drowsy and then you had to tuck 'em into bed and read three separate bed time stories for each of them because Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara all liked different stories.

It was exhausting, but such a joy to babysit such sweethearts.

After they fell asleep, you'd wander a lonely path back downstairs and look at the time — 8:45 PM — then yawn big and snuggle up on the couch and... wait. And wait. Anddd... wait.

Satoru would always come home late from work.

You'd hear the click of the front door and have an almost Pavlovian reaction. Oh, daddy's home.

You'd strain your ears to hear his footsteps as he walked down the hall, hear the satin hiss of his loosening tie, the sound sparking your over-active imagination. And, pushing a stressed-out sigh past his lips, Satoru would walk into the living room to see you looking drowsy and messy after a long day of taking care of his three kids.

And it's that messy sight of you which made something click in Satoru's mind. That's what really sold him on you. Sure, you were a crazy hot mess... but you had this undeniable motherly quality about you that just made him wonder.

What if he gave you his babies?

Shit. Sorry. Random Friday night thoughts. Forgive him. He's been working at a desk all day and now he's feelin' a bit woozy.

He looked at you, mumbled a sweet but gruff "Hey." and then took a seat right next to you on the TV-lit couch. He sat a respectable distance away from you at first... but then, uh, the next second you had already scooched over to his side until you two were almost pressing thigh against thigh.

Exhausted. Apprehensive at how close his flirty babysitter liked to sit next to him, while at the same time getting half-hard at the thought of tearing off your tiny clothes and showing you just how frustrated a tease like you makes him. Satoru sat and endured.

Underneath all that teenage-like sexual tension, he was feeling welcomed home by you. He almost forgot how nice it felt to have someone waiting up for him.

"So, how was work?" you asked.

He grumbled. He sighed. He was half-hard and full-frustrated. No one had asked him that question in a long time in such a caring voice that it actually tugged at his heartstrings a bit. Just a bit.

"It was... um, yeah... like any other day. Long and hard."

"Long and hard..." you nodded, trailing off and letting the innuendo fill the air.

He gave you a look.

"Exactly how long and hard?" you asked.

He couldn't believe that your stupid jokes like that made him chuckle. And what a sight his smile was; his dimples, the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners, making the slightest age lines appear on his pale face.

"Ah, finally I got a smile out of you."

"And that's the only one you're getting." he shook his head.

Satoru brought his big hand to massage his shoulder, letting out a tense groan from his thought.

Oh, the pitiful look that you gave him made him wanna crawl onto your lap and weep. He'd worked so hard all week with scarce breaks, and all he wanted was a sweet, soft woman to lay upon, to be loved by, to fuck stupid, to use like a good stress-relieving fleshlight — ya know? Just a nice way to wrap up a hard week.

"You..." you began, pressing one long decorated nail into his firm pecs, "... look like you're in desperate need of a massage."

"Ahah... no, no..."

He stuttered, smiled a big toothy smile that made you wanna bite him. God, he really looked like that old photo of himself right then — that one you stole, remember? His graduation photo. He just looked too hot and you had to have a memento of him for your memory box.

Shit. You were crazy.

Satoru had no fucking idea whether you were making a dirty suggestion or just genuinely offering him a massage.

Either way, the thought of your hands on him got the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

Though the rational side of his brain was telling him to refuse your offer, the ghost of the crazed fuckboy that he used to be forced him to accept — like, fuck, what kind of idiot would you be if you refused a pretty girl to work her hands on you, Satoru? Don't put your past self to shame, he thought, you're only gonna get older one day and then that thing ain't even gonna sit up like a good boy without some treats... yeah... that's right... you're gonna be real fucking old one day, Satoru... think about it...

"You know what, actually...? Yeah, I'd love one... but you better be good." he said in a low rasp.

"Oh, don't worry — I'm the best." you grinned like a sweet little devil.

I'll fucking bet you are, cheeky slut, he thought.

He looked like he was holding back all his raw lust. Like if you said just one more thing like that then he would tear your clothes right off your slutty little body and fuck you until every thought flew out of your head except for thoughts of him.

****

Yeah, that martial artist discipline of his really came in handy once you started massaging his shoulders and back. If he hadn't been so strict on himself, he would have...

"Gosh, you're sooo tense, Mr. Gojo... relax."

... I need to fuck her brains out. That's the first thought that he had to push out of his head.

"... let me take the weight of your shoulders..." you nearly whispered, working your hands into his meaty muscle.

Ooh he slipped, he totally gave in.

"Mmm..." he let out a purring moan, feeling the pressure of your fingertips sink into his sore muscles. "That feels good... keep going."

You were trying to keep it cool and professional... er, as professional as you could with your hands exploring Gojo Satoru's muscular back.

Having the lights down low didn't help much. Everything was turning you on. Your clit was already buzzing and begging for attention from behind your thin panties.

This was babymaking atmosphere.

You were going insane, soaking your panties and twitching 'cause you've got a hot dad groaning under your touch.

"Y' can go a little harder..." he muttered in a rough voice.

"M'kay..."

"Mmm..." he let out that purring moan again, this time stretching it out.

Something was so erotic about giving him a massage, even though it wasn't supposed to be — uh, it really wasn't supposed to be, right? Right? It's not like you planned this out all night, not like you were scheming while watching cartoons and waiting for Gojo Satoru to come home.

Ah c'mon... he's an overworked man in need of a massage. Just listen to him, he's moaning like he's — oh, he's closing his eyes, too? He must be really feeling it. His breath is becoming choppy, too.

"Just a bit more..."

"Like this?"

"Yeahhh... just like that."

His mouth hung open in bliss. He squirmed a little. Shit... he could feel himself throbbing. Even slightest friction of his pants shifting along his painfully hard cock was already intense enough to make him clench his jaw.

You smirked, catching a delicious glimpse of the prominent outline of his bulging cock right before he instinctively covered it up with a pillow.

Damn, how does he keep such a monster hidden under such thin dress pants?

Sticking your tongue out in focus as you deliberately massage a spot on his back that makes him moan out the most, Satoru rolls his eyes back and dies a little orgasmic death.

"Yeah... th-that's it... right there... right there... you can go harder."

"Like this?"

"Yeahhh... good g- uhhh, th-that's good." he purred, holding back his tongue just in time because oops, he almost called you a good girl without even thinking.

Oh, that pillow coverage sure helped to keep his boner out of sight but then he had a new problem... the pleasurable friction of the pillow and the fact his stubborn hips liked to move on their own.

Without trying to make it obvious, he was getting off with the pillow, shifting it as inconspicuously as he could but he just couldn't get enough friction — shit, when was the last time that he was so horny he could even enjoy fucking a pillow? It was insane how hard he was, how much his cock oozed sticky precum, how every inch stood at attention asking politely to stretch out some good babysitter pussy.

He shut his pretty blue eyes when started feeling reaaally good. Like, god, he needed this more than he needed air. It was such a shit day at work, but now all the stress that he had built up throughout the day just melted away with each subtle thrust of his bulge into the pillow, and your soft hands digging into his muscular back.

I wanna fuck her so bad.

"Uhhh, fuckkkkkkk...!" he let out a broken moan.

You stopped massaging his back, eyes blown wide open, trying to hold back your shock and snickering. He had worked up a subtle sweat. His muscles were twitching. He was gasping. It was so obvious to you what had just happened.

"Mister?"

"Huh?" he blinked the stars out of his eyes, coming-to as if his orgasm knocked him out for a second.

"Are you okay...?"

He opened his eyes and... oh, there was a wet patch on his dress pants where he just came. Oops. A little massaging and pillow-fucking and he came all over his thigh? Well, that had never happened before. Guess his cock was just super sensitive after not having sex for so long — but you didn't hear that from me...

Satoru gulped. He abruptly stood up, acting as nervous as a bird, "Um, uh... it's late, isn't it? I've gotta drive you home..."

"Aw, okay." you frowned at him, wiggling your hips like you were expecting more.

And he looked at your wiggling hips, your slightly spread apart legs, and then he let a nasty thought pass his mind, and nearly caved and asked you if you wanted to...

****

God, you had your legs apart and he could smell your ovulation. No no, don't call him crazy. He could smell it.

And as he went upstairs to wipe the cum off his inner thighs and change into new pants, he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that you must have been soaked. You must have had the prettiest pussy ever.

Oh, he threw his head back and groaned when he met you back downstairs because while he tried acting professional, now you were all worked up and in an outrageously flirty mood.

You were about to say something outrageous again but he stopped you dead on your tracks.

"Shut up, I don't want to hear it. Let's go." he said, grabbing his keys.

You saluted him playfully, "Yes, daddy."

He did a double take. "What?"

"Nothing." you smiled innocently.

His eyes caught yours, then he rubbed his cheek like he was stressed out.

It was really obvious why he liked you, but Satoru was aching to ask why on earth you like him so much.

Didn't you think he was an egotistical asshole? That's how his ex-wife described him, anyways.

*****

"So you're a Sagittarius, huh?" you ask, little voice dripping in sultriness and setting off alarm bells in the fuckboy side of his mind. "That's hot."

"Uh-huh."

He's driving you home. 60 mph. Switching lanes. Bright blue eyes blind-spotting to the left. Next they're side-eyeing you. Catching on your pretty baby angel face. Trying to keep it together, but his cock is starting to make a bulge in his pants again. Something you've discovered is that the poor man doesn't even change out of his suit most days; when he comes home he just faceplants into bed and falls asleep.

"A december baby?"

"Yup. December seventh." he replies curtly.

Relax, Satoru. It's just conversation. Just innocent, professional conversation with the babysitter who just witnessed you fucking a pillow and cumming in your pants.

After a steadying inhale, he politely returns the question, "What about you? When's your birthday?"

Satoru pays you a brief glance before bringing his gaze back to the speedometer. 50 mph.

Just that one question turns into a deep exploration of your psyche.

"... I just don't like guys my age... like, god, they don't even turn me on anymore."

You give a dramatic pause before looking at him with a nympho fire in your eyes.

"Hey, you're an old man — got any sage advice for me?"

"Hey, who you callin' an old man?"

"Sorryyy, I'm just being cheeky."

"I can tell."

"Sooo... what's your advice?"

Satoru furrows his brows. "For what?"

"For getting older guys to pay one small glance to a sweet girl like me?"

He tenses up and doesn't reply.

You're insane. Worse, you're even more insane than he was when he was your age.

His cock is throbbing against his inner thigh. Again. Precum. Everywhere. How dare you? He's in-between throttling you and stopping off on the side of the highway to bend you over his car's hood to show you he ain't no old man. What a cheek...

"This is your turnoff, isn't it?"

"... yeah."

You watch him flick on the turn signal. You catch his eyes just before he blind-spots again.

As he's pulling off the highway, you pull a dumb joke out of your brain, eager to get a response from him.

"It's my turnoff. But ya wanna know my turn-on?"

"..." he doesn't reply, just gives you a look, then tears his eyes off you and rubs his fingers over his mouth.

"C'mon." you encourage, "You're so uptight; let me humor you a little."

"I'm pretty sure I can guess your turn-on."

You tilt your head at him expectantly. He purses his lips. Drives down your street. Pulls into your driveway. Parks. Unbuckles his seatbelt with a tantalizing slowness that sparks your imagination — d'you wonder if he unbuckles his belt that slowly, too?

Satoru offers one lazy guess. "Older men?"

"Bingo!"

He stifles a smile, shakes his head, thinks you're crazy, and then opens his car door and steps out, leaving you to giggle and unbuckle your seatbelt alone.

He swerves 'round the hood of the car over to your side, and reappears at your window to open your door for you.

"Wow. Handsome and chivalrous? Why'd your wife let a gem like you go?"

"... that's not really any of your business."

"Aw, c'mon... I'm just dripping with curiosity."

He doesn't reply again, just walks you silently to your front door. His heart is beating faster as he eyes out the curve of your ass. That tight sundress shows just the faintest hint of a thong underneath.

Just a thin sundress? A tiny thong underneath? God you're so fuckable, he thinks. So, so fuckable. And the worst part is that you're one of the girls who knows you're hot. That's why you bounce around in front of men like him like you're a reckless bunny.

He's trying so hard to block out wild fantasies of ripping the fabric off your tight body and fucking you into a dumb, slutty mess.

Block it out, Satoru, block it out.

Finally, he replies to the question you posed earlier.

"I'm full of myself, apparently." he says bitterly.

"You're full of yourself?" you tilt your head, a light confusion glossing over your features.

He's so patient and fatherly to his kids; a jovial and wholesome man. I mean, he takes his kids to every place they wanna go, makes gingerbread houses with them in the festive season, plays pretend with them, sets up outdoor adventures in his backyard, gets dressed up in a ridiculous costume for Halloween and takes them out trick-or-treating every year without fail. For god's sake, he bought a hot pink set of baking cookware just because Nobara fancied herself a chef.

He gives his all to his kids, how could anyone think he's full of himself?

"... seems like your wife was wrong about you." you reply.

"Ex-wife. And nah, you'll probably agree with her if ya stick around me long enough — " he speaks self-deprecatingly of himself, but then you interrupt him.

"— mmm, if I stick around ya for to long... y'think I'll end up being full of you, too?"

He stutters. Blood rushes to his cock.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing."

Satoru blinks at you in total disbelief. Again, an innocent face like you saying such outrageous shit is just insane to him.

"You've got a nasty conscience, you know that?"

"N'aw, don't mind me. I'm just having fun, being a little silly." you giggle, eyes all over him and his pretty, rideable face.

"Well, I wouldn't call flirting with older men being 'silly'..."

"And I wouldn't call pillow-fucking being 'professional'..."

Oh god. Oh my fucking god. He's breaking in two like a kitkat.

Satoru is rendered fucking silent. He's stunned. He's red.

"Goodnight." is all he replies with. And then he leaves. What the hell else is he supposed to say to that? You're crazy.

Now you got him all worked up and he doesn't know what to do. If younger Satoru knew that one day in his thirties he'd meet a slutty babysitter... oh, god. Younger Satoru would be pumping his fist in the air.

But he's gotta keep playing it cool, 'cause there's no way he can fuck his babysitter... there's NO way...

... so there he is that very night tucked in his black satin sheets, leaky cock in his fist and jaw slacked, face sweaty, fucking himself to supposedly real "I fucked my babysitter" erotica stories. No, he's not one for porn videos. He just wants to lay back and picture your pretty face with no disturbances. He just wants to lay wayyy back on his king-sized bed, fisting his cock with soft fwupfwupfwups while picturing his babysitter's pussy sitting pretty on him.

He groans at his dirty little fantasies as he slides his hand up and down his shaft, getting so lost in the idea of taking your virginity that he forgets all about the erotica story he's reading and jus' closes his eyes, head thunking back against the headboard in bliss and cock dripping like a leaky faucet, practically drooling all over his lower abdomen.

"Good girl; take it all, just like that..." he mutters.

He slides his thumb over his leaky tip and holds it over the hole, smearing precum everywhere as it oozes out, getting his cock wetter before going back to stroking it at a steady speed. His breath gets ragged as he lures his orgasm out.

He's never met a virgin as slutty as you before, that's for sure.

Shit, he really shouldn't be thinking about fucking his babysitter. He really shouldn't tease his cock to thoughts of taking your virginity. It shouldn't bring on his orgasm to picture you trapped underneath his heavy muscles, cumming all over his mature cock.

"... ugh!" he moans out, shifting down the headboard and curling his toes. "Fuck! Fuck... oh, shit, baby..."

Just like that, his jaw slacks in pleasure 'n his cock shoots out thick ribbons of cum and he's creaming all inside you — oh, sorry. That was just in his fantasies.

In reality, he's just cum all over his abs and chest. It shot up so high that it almost reached his neck.

He pants and looks down at the wasted seed that he coulda pumped inside you.

Groaning as he comes down from his high, Satoru lays with his long legs spread out on his bed for a while and curses himself for thinking of fucking his babysitter.

And then he starts weighing the pros and cons of actually doing it.

Yeah, he stares up at the ceiling after jerking off for like thirty minutes, cum splattered on his abs, thinking about how bad of an idea it would be to actually fuck his slutty babysitter.

No, Satoru. You can't. Absolutely no — no fucking the babysitter. Satoru? Bad boy. Don't do it. I know she's fuckable but you cannot fuck your —

****

— so like a week later, he's spreading your legs and crawling inbetween them.

He's placing rough kisses against your lips like he's almost angry about being this horny.

"Nn!" you whine, feeling his fingertips press against your clothed pussy, pushing against your entrance.

"Aw, you're soakin' your panties just from a little bit of kissing? Aren't you cute." he murmurs on your skin.

"Sh-shut up and fuck me... I can't take this teasing." you spit back, pulling him back into a rough kiss.

He chuckles into your mouth, tongue slithering over yours and tangling up with it for a few seconds before he pipes up;

"I'm just getting back at you for all the teasing I endured from your slutty ass."

Biting your lip. Pulling away. Letting out a purely erotic noise. Sliding his big hands down your sides and gripping you like you're his woman.

Oh now your breath gets caught in your throat.

"Let's get you nice and ready for me, hm?" he husks, lips dangerously close to your clothed pussy.

Oh now your heart rate spikes to an alarming rate. Fuck. You're actually doing it. You're actually gonna fuck an older guy.

He plants a rough kiss on top of your pussy, chin pressing against your buzzy clit.

"Mm...!" you press your lips together, trying to keep some sort of composure but you can't 'cause you've got Gojo Satoru between your legs — who the hell would be able to stay composed in your position?

Damn, it drives him crazy when your inner thighs graze the sides of his cheeks. You're ruffling up his hair. He's going down on you.

A moment later, he's pushing your panties aside and lapping at your pussy. Another moment later, he's curling his tongue up inside you.

"Oh my god th-that feels good..." you gasp, feeling his slippery tongue writhe inside.

"Mmm, I know it does."

He feels smug hearing this, pressing an open-mouthed smile against your pussy lips as he sticks his tongue as deep into you as he can possibly go, eyeing your blissed-out expressions. Sliding his tongue out, spitting on your pussy, rubbing sloppy frantic circles on your clit, Satoru's acting like a total show off.

It makes you hide your face between your palms.

"Ah-ah-ah... I want you to watch." he growls, "Don't you dare take your eyes off me, m'kay? That's a good girl."

Tip of his nose nudging your clit as he tongue-fucks you into hazy bliss, you're moaning like you never knew you could.

And he's just in heaven, 'cause he's got your juices dribbling down his chin and glossing his lips better than his favorite lip gloss — uh-huh.

"Mister! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck — nnn! G-gojooo!" you start mewling his name and he goes faster, trying to chase your orgasm out with full intent to leave you hanging.

Your breath is staggering, pussy pulsing with that edge of pleasure and oh, suddenly he's retracting his tongue from your weeping, spasming hole before you can cum all over his face.

Yep. He leaves you hanging.

"Wait — ! Nn, I was gonna c—"

"— y'know, princess" he interrupts, wiping your slick off his cheek with his fingers and licking it off right before your wide eyes, "I really think we're past the formalities; call me Satoru."

Half-dazed and ditzy on the pleasure of a missed orgasm, you watch as Satoru pulls away from you, his knees digging into the mattress and weighing it down.

Veiny hands find his belt and smoothly undo it, whipping off with a loud crack.

"O-oh?" you breathe excitedly.

He smirks, seeing how your eyes are glued to his bulge, "Aw, ya gonna perv on me while I strip for ya?" he teases, then clicks his tongue in regret when you reply with a lamb-like look, "Hahaha, don't get shy on me now. I'm just teasing."

Absolutely drooling over his physique as he strips his clothes off tantalizingly slowly, Satoru's been so composed up until now; as he unbuttons and unzips his long zipper, you notice how ragged his breathing actually is. Like he needs it bad. Like his cock is getting strangled by his clothes.

After hastily taking his pants off, Satoru quickly frees his eager cock from his boxer briefs.

And your eyes go wiiide.

"Oh."

Pale. Pink. Stiff. Leaky. Bit of an upper curve. Thick veins. What's that, like maybe a nine? No, no, there's no way. Actually, on second look, maybe?

"C'mere, let me have you." he rasps, one hand gripping his dummy big cock.

"That is not gonna fit inside me."

His ego swells. Ah, how many girls have said that to him in his life? And it never gets old.

"Nah, it'll fit."

You twitch excitedly, breath catching in your throat as Satoru comes closer to you and snuggles his slim waist between your legs which you just keep spreading wider and wider, so ready to take him even though you're nervous as hell.

"Ready to get ya cherry popped, cutie?" he asks.

He taps his cock against your entrance, coats it in your slippery juices, teases that hot tip in 'n out.

"Yeaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhfuck! Holy shit! Um! Uh!"

"What is it?" he throws a smug smile your way.

He watches intently as your pouty lips move, "'Big, 's really fucking big...! Ooh, god! Nn! Nnn!"

"You're so cute." he arches over you, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

His head starts to spin as he slides inside you.

Fuck. He's actually doing it. Sure, he fucked that flight attendant once. Yeah, he had a couple flings. He was a nasty, sex-crazed fuckboy in his youth. And yet... nothing felt as nasty as this.

This is everything he ever fucking needed. This is the sweet and nasty girl that he's craved for all his life. The rest were too nasty, some too sweet, but you? A perfect slut.

Satoru's curving up into you and teasing your sweet spots with his tip like he's letting 'em know that soon they're gonna get bullied with his hard-hitting strokes.

And your pussy's happily getting stretched out, walls clinging to every inch he pushes in like she's so thankful that you finally gave her something besides your fingers or toys to clench around.

"Ah, fuck, that's tight."

"I'm sorry!"

"No, no, it's a good thing... just relax a little more, 'm gonna push it deeper, is that okay?"

"Yes, please... oh please, fuck, yes give me everything!"

He grins, "No need to ask twice." he murmurs, right before he's sinking another few of his inches into your struggling pussy.

Satoru just comes undone at the feeling of being inside you.

His big hands come to squeeze your breasts, jiggling them around with a playful tongue poking out his mouth like he's just tempted to put his mouth on them.

So he does, y'know he's already lost enough self-restraint to the point where he's fucking his babysitter, so of course he's gonna give into his urge to suck on your breasts.

His hot, wet mouth envelopes your sensitive nipple, tongue flicking against it 'till he draws out cute whimpers from you.

He's pulling his mouth off, kissing the curve of your cleavage, groping a handful of your breasts, looking down at you like he knows damn well no boys your age are gonna fuck you as good as him — shit, scratch that, ain't fuckin' nobody in your whole life gonna fuck you as good as he will.

When your walls permit him to go deeper, Satoru stutters out like he's the virgin here, "F-f-fuck, there you go, baby, jus' take my cock like you're meant to, yeah?"

He moves his hips, relishing that sloppy sound of your pussy gushing around him — oh god you're bucking your hips to meet his hips 'n you're driving him crazy makin' him think for a split second about remarrying.

Like, he's going insane, he's actually going insane.

Hardly ten minutes later and he's fucking you into your first orgasm, loving how you can't even control how hard you cum on his cock. He's ruthlessly rubbing your clit throughout your orgasm, eager to make your eyes roll back completely. And it's making you freak the fuck out, 'cuz no one else has done this to you. No one has brought you to a real orgasm before.

And he can tell.

It makes him twitch and dive deeper into your sopping hole, eager to lure out as much juice as he can 'cause there's nothing he loves more than a creamy mess on his cock.

He's bending and pushing you into the positions he loves, thrusting at a steady pace that you can keep up with at first but sometimes he'll go harder, harder, harder until you're sobbing and wailing out so loudly that he needs to clamp a hand over your mouth.

He chuckles, "Quiet down, princess. You're gonna wake up my kids at this rate."

" 'm shorry!" you mumble into the palm of his hand, feeling his cock drill into your sweet spots and pressure your walls like crazy.

"No, no. Don't be sorry. It's cute. You're taking me so well," he praises, "Doing so so well for me, princess."

Those soft coos don't match his nasty strokes. He's railing you like he's trying to fuck every last bit of virginity out of your pussy, 'till it remembers the shape of his cock, 'till it clings to him, 'till it knows who's ya daddy.

Especially while prone-boning you. Damn, who forgot to give this guy the handbook on How to Fuck a Virgin? He's pounding into you and grunting like he's gone psycho... ohhhhehasn'thaddpussyinlikeayear. Okay. Makes sense.

"Ah, fuck — fuckin' look at me while I fuck you," he commands, sweaty cheek pressing against yours. Satoru grabs your jaw and makes you look at him, loving your lewd expressions. "Haha, such a fucked-out face... cute."

He thrusts faster into you, not even letting much of his cock in 'cause he knows form experience that virgin pussy just can't handle all of that. So he's easing out each time he accidentally dives in too deep.

And when he pounds up into you like that, it makes sense why the phrase "fucking your brains out" came about. His cock has got you in a crazy back arch, got you seeing stars. No thoughts. Just pussy spasms.

"Harder!! 'want it harder! Please! Fuck me harderrr!!" you plead, totally cockdrunk on Gojo Satoru.

"Are you sure 'bout that, sweetheart? 'Cause I don't think you can handle it..."

"Please!!" you beg.

"Aw... 'can't say no to that fuckable face, can i?" he throws your leg over his shoulder, repositioning himself, grinning, "Take a deep breath. You tell me if it's too much, m'kay? Y'can tap out at any time."

"Yeah, yeah! I know!!" you respond so eagerly it makes him giggle.

As instructed, you take a deep breath. But honestly, did it really prepare you for getting fucked this hard? Um, no.

"Fuck, fuck!! Nnn... god, fuck me! Yesyesyes, just like that please!!"

"Ah, shit, baby..."

"God, you're gonna — you're gonna break the bed, 'Toruuu!"

"I'm gonna break you first." he moans, pounding every last inch of his cock into your happy little pussy, gives your g-spot a beating that has your whole body on the brink of insanity.

"Ughhh... fuck!" you choke up, you hiccup, you sob and wail — and he has to kiss you quiet.

My god did you need this. You needed to indulge in this nastiness, 'cuz who the hell else is ever gonna give you the fucking of a lifetime? Uh, yeah, that's right...

"Yeah, keep enjoying my fucking cock. You know nobody else is gonna fuck you as good as this, little slut." he whispers into your ear, cheek sticky with sweat 'n pressing against yours.

What kind of man did his ex-wife think he was? Full of himself? Nah... he wasn't that full of himself. C'mon now...

"... fuck you look so good cumming on my cock like that. Aw, you shaking? Can't handle it? Am I just too good at fucking you, huh? Wanna cum again? Come on, use your words, you're a big girl. You wanna cum again, don't you? I know you want it. I know you love my cock, 'course you do... 'm fucking perfect, baby. 'N you're gonna take every perfect fucking inch of me."

Oh. Okay. Maybe he is full of himself.

Well, he's full of himself and now you're full of him, too.

Satoru isn't shy about pumping a thick, gooey cumload inside you. He isn't shy about frothing up his creampie during round two, either. And he isn't shy about flipping you into missionary and pushing your trembling legs back and sliding his cock in again.

"Can ya do one more for me, baby?"

"Y-yeah!"

"Aw, but you look exhausted..." he grins. "I wouldn't wanna break my favorite babysitter on accident."

"I'm okay, I swear! I can take it!" you start babbling.

Sweat is dripping off your bodies and soaking the bed. The room smells like sex. His muscles are pressing into you. He's diving into you like a swimmer and grunting and making a dent in the wall 'cause that headboard is banging into the wall just as hard as he's banging into you. Neither of you even notice the dent in the wall. You're just stuck together, connected in that one place, fucking like bunnies.

You palm at his abs, pressing flat against them and melting at the feeling of his mmmaturemusclestwitchingohgodbless, you're so gone after feeling his sweat gather on your hand and catching a glimpse of the bulge his cock makes inside you.

Satoru blanks when your small hand feels up his muscles. Now his thrusts got your lower tummy shuddering and you just wonder what he's thinking when his brows furrow together in such serious focus at your fertile pussy.

"Ohmygodohmygodyou'regonnafuckingbreakme!!" you squeal, fisting the pillow and nearly crying into it.

He giggles, slowing his thrusts to a pace your poor, abused pussy can handle better, "Sorry, doll, you jus' got me too excited when you touched me like that."

"Nn!!" you fist the sheets in your hand, realizing just how far he fucked you to the edge of the bed — the two of you were nearly falling off the bed until uh, oops, you were on the floor?

"Ahh-ahhh! Ah! AH! Wh-what kinda... wrestling move is this, Satoru! Fuck, go easy on me!! 'M gonna cum again!!"

He's too into it to bother getting the two of you back on the bed. Now he's just pinning you down on the plush carpeted floor, railing your tight cunt from behind like he owns it. He may as well, honestly.

"Oh yeah?" he grunts, "Cum again on my cock. Lemme see you work it out on my cock. C'mon, isn't this the cock you wanted so badly? Put on a show for me, baby."

"Ahh!!" you sluttily cry out, bouncing your hips up and down and working your pussy on just six of his nine inches.

"Fuuuck... look at that back arch... haha, you already runnin' outta stamina? Yeah, tell me about it. It's hard work fuckin' a big cock, isn't it? Okay, okay, spoiled princess..." he mutters, hearing your exhausted pleas, "Perk that ass up, lemme show you how it's done."

"But this position is so — AH!" you kick your legs as he slides deeper with each quick stroke.

His tip's prodding at a spot you don't even recognize; a sweet gummy spot that's like your off button. You can't keep your mouth shut and now you're getting so loud that he's gotta clamp a hand on your mouth again, pushing you into the carpeted floor and not stopping his hard-hitting thrusts for a looong few seconds, driving it deep.

He picks up his pace, balls slapping into your clit so loudly that he can't even complain about the loudness of your moans. That skin-slapping 'n squelching could wake up the neighborhood.

"Fuck," he grunts, "Ah, ah... stay right there, 'gonna make you a mama..."

You thrash your legs around, "Nn! Please!" you squeal, feeling his warm seed pour into you again without warning. Just that feeling makes you cum. Hard. Satoru's cock freaks out at the feeling of your pussy's milking contractions along his length, making his tender tip spurt out a little bit more cum against your cervix.

It's so bad. You really shouldn't love getting creampied by an older man this much, let alone your... uh, boss?

Worse. He shouldn't have such a big fucking smile on his sweaty face. He shouldn't be rolling his eyes back in satisfaction like that, like he finds it so funny that he actually did it.

"God, you sure loved milking me, huh?" he smiles wide, bangs soaked and sticking to his sweaty forehead.

"Nnn..." you nod, totally exhausted.

He watches you trying to catch your breath, gulping and gasping. He slides his softening cock out of your over-creampied pussy, earning a small whimper from you. Oh, you feel so empty now, it's crazy. Just how did he pack all of that cock inside you? He can't figure it out, either.

"You okay, sugarplum?" he asks sensitively, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand.

"Yahhh..." you weakly whimper back, wiggling your foot cutely, "Need t' cleanup... need help w-walking..."

All his creampies bubble out your pussy.

He stifles a laugh, feeling a bit guilty. Satoru presses a kiss to your back, peeling you off the floor and practically carrying you to the bathroom — floor and walls black tiles, every corner spelling 'rich boy' in bold letters.

Carefully and slowly, Satoru helps to clean you up, massaging your sore parts with his big hands, peppering your neck in the sweetest little kisses as if he didn't just rearrange your guts and ruin your pussy for other men.

"So... how's it feel, not being a virgin anymore?" he asks with a dirty big bad fuckboy smile.

You simply blush and smile shyly in response. It makes him laugh.

"Aw, are you all shy now, pookums? Shit, I think I fucked tha nasty outta you..."

You nuzzle him, looking about ready to sleep, and it just melts his heart.

"Mm, y'know... Suguru was right about you; you're a real sweetheart. I think I might just have 'ta keep you around for a long time."

ㅤ🍒 x 🐇 x 💗@𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖎

ㅤ𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘���

@screampied (I KNOW IT'S BEEN LIKE A YEAR SINCE I LAST MENTIONED THIS FIC SORRY LOL) 💗 @pickledballer 💗 @wakashudou 💗@miseryyouth-99 💗 @ilovelokism 💗 @yuji-baby 💗 @natsuw181 💗 @madamechrissy 💗@magical-girl-bunny 💗@arminswifee 💗 @msheds0519 💗@nariminsstuff 💗@strychnynegirl 💗@satorupi 💗 @lvstru 💗@buniibloom 💗@tojijibaby 💗@peach-olic 💗 @mandistromboli 💗 @bwunniibell 💗 @nezukochaaann 💗 @valentine4738 💗 @katthekat1234 💗 @aryanaaa 💗 @astxrismstar 💗 @delusionalandabnormal 💗 @shadykittyperfection 💗 @pettypinkprincessblog 💗 @chososgf04 💗 @eliengoddes 💗 @peachmangoe 💗 @dollyschii 💗 @palegardenrebel

[spltbtch]

fuckboy!satoru who's givin pussies a test drive every day till he meets urs and then he spirals into true pussy obsession, needing his dick soaked like that, grippped like that, fucked like that. suddenly he's the whimpering bitch under a hot wet pussy, getting snapshots of your form in his eyes feelin like he's bursting into a fever as it bounces on him like that. "such a nasty slut; tight and perfect..." he thinks to himself. "Shit... nobody does it like you."

ooh, the feeling of your walls jerking off his cock from base to tip suckin' him all in like a juicy lollipop is shifting his whole world perspective — and just like that, he reawakens as a new man. your pussy changed him. after a one-night stand with you he can definitely say yes he's seen god and yes he's had a metamorphosis. your pussy literally made him believe in true love.

n'aw but poor fuckboy!satoru didn't expect to get a taste of his own medicine; you were firm about it being a fling and so was he... at first... uh, yeah.

now you've got 14 missed calls and a slew of messages from this heartbroken heartbreaker. oops!

🍒 x 🐇 x 💗@𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖎

[spltbtch]

Personal trainer!Toji who half the gym is scared of, so imagine their shock and awe when you’re asking him for tips and he actually smiles. 

Personal trainer!Toji who doesn’t dare touch you for too long- though his hands twitch like they’d like to. So when you’re taking his hands and putting them on you with a request for spotting, oh- he’s done for.

Personal trainer!Toji who sections off a part of the locker room just so he can pound you against the wall and be the only one to hear your pretty moans. Hell, he’ll even proudly count how many calories you lost from the “cardio.”

[spltbtch]

୨୧﹕fem!reader, he shuts u up

megumi's hand slapped over your mouth again.

not rough. not cruel. just… desperate.

“shut up,” he growled against your throat, breath hot and ragged, body trembling just a little where it pressed into yours, hips stuttering in their rhythm like your moan had actually hurt him.

you blinked up at him, wide-eyed, breath muffled behind his palm, your back arching anyway because fuck, he was deep—deeper than you’d ever had—and the way he stayed locked in place, chest to chest, forehead damn near pressed to yours like he was trying not to lose it—

that voice again, low, wrecked: “quit whining. just… stop.”

and your heart dropped a little. just a pinch. because every time he said that—shut up, don’t moan, stop making noise—it cracked something warm inside you. like he didn’t want to hear you. like your pleasure was annoying him.

you whimpered behind his hand. soft. just enough for him to feel it.

he groaned.

and it was the kind of groan you knew wasn’t angry.

he pulled back. just enough to look at you—sweat sliding down his temples, jaw clenched, lips parted. his eyes were wild. unfocused.

“you—fuck—you keep doing that, i’m gonna fucking cum,” he snapped, voice barely a whisper, furious, like it was your fault, like the heat boiling in his gut was something he couldn’t stand feeling.

your brows lifted. he saw the flicker of realization in your face. he froze. caught.

you licked your lips. “you don’t like the way i sound?”

“i love the way you sound,” he snarled before he could stop himself. “that’s the problem.”

and then he slammed into you harder.

“every time you moan, i—i can’t fucking—nghh—”

you grinned. sharp. breathless. a little wicked. “you cum quick when i make noise, megumi?”

“shut the fuck up,” he hissed again, but this time his hand was shaking as he covered your mouth again— because now you were doing it on purpose. making all the little gasps and whimpers you knew would get to him.

he was panting now. fucking into you hard, losing rhythm, slamming into that perfect spot with all the grace of a man trying not to explode.

“keep it up,” he growled. “i’ll finish in you before you even get off.”

you moaned against his palm.

he shuddered.

and yeah—he was fucked.

[spltbtch]

next-door-neighbor bakugou who overhears how shitty your last date was, how badly that dude fucked you, like he didn't care about making you cum at all - - and then one day, he's with you in the elevator and you look so cute he thinks he might be having a heart attack the way his chest keeps squeezing, so he just goes - fuck it - and asks if you'll let him make you dinner.

and you say yes because he's a big gruff pro-hero and you've had a crush on him ever since you moved in.

and he cooks you a delicious meal, homey and spicy - before long, a variety of side dishes litter the table, small glasses of beer piling up as both of you get to know each other. and finally, bakugou pulls you into his lap, licking the skin below your ear, both palms full of the meat of your ass, smiling like he won the fucking lottery --

"you need a real man, don't you baby?" he says, nosing at your neck, kissing down the column of your throat as you wriggle in his lap, trying to get closer to the solid heat of him. "someone who'll take care of you before they fuck you stupid?"

he cups you in his hand, hissing out a breath. "fuckin' soaked already," and his lips crash to yours, messy and desperate, like he's afraid you'll walk out the door. "i'll cook you anything you want, get you wet and dumb on my dick every day. how 'bout that, baby?"

(he makes good on the promise)

reblogs and comments are appreciated and encouraged!! tumblr is a community, not an algorithm, and all support is welcomed <3

general taglist <3 @cielito--lindo, @one-scarred-mofo, @uekarashi, @waterfal-ling, @iluvikeu, @bach-ira

[spltbtch]

"DON'T WANNA WAIT ON IT, TONIGHT I WANNA GET NASTY" | GETO. S

synopsis: on your night out with your boyfriend, you start feeling a little needy which results in him taking matters into his own hands. but after being rudely interrupted by his best friend, suguru knows exactly what to do with you.

content warning (so much omg): porn with a bit of a plot, fem! reader, established relationship, there's a bit of a dom/sub dynamic between reader and geto but it's not very obvious, dry humping, making out in the car, semi-clothed sex, sex on the couch, cunnilingus, blowjob, praise<3 lots of it, pet names (baby), dirty talk, suguru knows how to talk, size kink, fucking on satoru's couch, throat/face fucking, squirting, strength kink. heavily not proof-read (i was too tired) really, just grab your shower head.

word count: 3,5k

note: thank u for almost 9k followers! and most importantly, i need to get railed by this man. and very soon.

another note: my one and only @aurelianamu was the one to suggest the idea btw!!!

comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

suguru loved you like this. when you were so horny and needy that no thought in your head was cohered, and all you cared about is having his cock inside you. the way you got flustered as you watched him drive, your face turning red and your breath catching in your throat when he fixed his pants or his shirt rode up a little to reveal the happy trail beneath the fabric. or how you immediately turned to look out of the window when he put his hand on your thigh, praying that he wouldn’t squeeze it.

suguru found it so amusing, how you were trying to act like none of it was affecting you but he could feel the way you were squeezing your thighs together, or shifting on the seat to grind your pretty clit against something, anything, even if it was the seat of his car.

which eventually resulted in him pulling the car over in a pretty dark area and ushering you to straddle his lap.

it wasn’t the most comfortable position, but you did not care—suguru’s lips are on yours. suguru was kissing you so good you were starting to feel dizzy, his hands were squeezing your thighs, your ass, your waist—and your were slowly starting to lose your mind at the electrifying feeling of his rough, big hands on your skin. he pulls away from your lips and kisses down your neck, smiling when you quickly melt on top of him and your hands are shakily placed on his shoulders, squeezing them to let him know he was making you feel so good (although your sounds were making it pretty obvious).

you start moving your hips back and forth on his crotch, and despite being pretty out of it and dizzy, you smile when you hear the muffled groan of your lover, his lips pausing at a certain spot on your neck before switching to his teeth.

he pulls away from your neck and stares at your hips, at loss for words at the way you swiftly roll them back and forth on his pretty visible bulge and he sighs, a hand gripping your side before staring up at you—your flushed face and fucked out look.

“fuck, you’re so sexy.” he whispers under his breath and lets his other hand find your other side, squeezing hard enough to make you pull up your shirt for him to see your skin. “that’s right, that’s it baby.” his praise sends tingles down to your pussy, and you think to yourself that there’s no way you were going to cum like this—in your clothes, in suguru’s car in some random place he found. but it was happening, and the realization that you were going this far just because you were horny for your lover seems to soak your panties even more.

but the moment is short lived when suguru’s phone starts pinging. once, then twice and then the sound of notifications is louder than your moans and your lover’s groans, and it’s hard to ignore it now. you huff a little when he reaches for his phone on the front board of his car and his eyes squint in annoyance trying to see who could possibly need him right now.

of course it’s his best friend.

gojo

dude

gojo

dude i left in a hurry this morning for a mission and i kinda dont know if i turned off the stove or not

gojo

you live pretty close could you pleaseeee go check on it for me?

gojo

ill pay you

gojo

actually i wont but pls go check it cause im really far away from home

suguru sighs out loud and leans back on the head rest of the seat. he sees your disappointed stare along with your flushed cheeks and brings a hand up to your face, thumb caressing your jaw before tracing your lips.

“sorry baby, we’re gonna have to start driving.”

“was it satoru?” your immediate and correct guess on who could possibly interrupt such a great moment has your lover smiling to himself before placing a hand behind your head and pulling you closer to him. he kisses you sweetly, tries not to deepen it but when you whine against his lips and pull away, he almost says fuck it and pushes his seat back to fuck you on all fours.

“it must be urgent,” you say against his lips before shuffling back to your seat. “come on, lets go.”

suguru hates when you’re this disappointed and sad, he wishes he could tell satoru he didn’t see the messages and take you to the back seats of the car to fuck your brains out. but he knows that satoru knows him too well, and that there’s no way he didn’t see the messages.

he starts the car and on the way there, suguru comes up with an idea. he doesn’t share it with you, knowing that you would immediately shut it down and flat out refuse. so he waits until you two get there to share his plan with you, knowing very well that a simple kiss and grinding his painful bulge against your core would easily make you give in to it.

—

when you arrive to satoru’s place, you feel tired, worn out. you and suguru did absolutely nothing beside dry humping, but having it be interrupted so suddenly made your mood drop a bit too hard. you stand in the living room of the strongest himself, looking at the various framed pictures of himself and your lover through every single ugly, awkward and embarrassing phase of their lives and it’s heartwarming.

but one thing you can never get used to is how expensive satoru is. you forget that he swims in money, and so his apartment was a duplex that reeked of opulence, with furniture that probably cost more than your yearly income. you try not to touch anything and choose to stand next to the couch while your boyfriend checks the house to see if his best friend did indeed leave anything on.

“he needs to put cameras here or something,” you say when you see your boyfriend approach the living room with a relaxed stance, hands in his pockets.

“hm, why?”

“it’s pretty fancy, you don’t think he could get robbed?” suguru smiles at your worry and places a hand on the back of your head before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“i’m pretty sure anyone who thinks it’s a good idea to rob satoru is stupid.” it doesn’t ease your worry but you decide to let go of it.

“well, if everything is safe then let’s go.” suguru’s hand doesn’t leave the back of your head. instead, it travels down to the small of your back and pushes you closer to him, your chests flushed against one another.

“we’re not in a hurry baby, and we were in the middle of something before coming here.” you freeze when you realize what he was insinuating and your hands immediately go up to his chest, in hopes of making him realize what he was suggesting in the first place.

“baby… we’re in satoru’s house,” you laugh nervously, hoping that the mention of his best friend's name snaps something in him-- but you don’t try to push him away, the arousal that you felt in the car coming back in strong waves when you notice the lustful stare of your boyfriend.

“and? satoru is not here,” his other hand rests on the back of your thigh and travels up to your ass, squeezing the flesh. “I left my baby hanging,” he leans down and brushes his lips against your quickening pulse. “you were so close in the car, I’m sure I can make you cum quickly, yeah?”

normally, you wouldn’t have agreed to this, to being fucked stupid on satoru’s expensive camel leather couch in his living room. you would’ve pushed your boyfriend’s head away from between your thighs and told him how absolutely insane all of this was. normally, you wouldn’t be this fucking horny to begin with.

but you were, and it was stopping you from thinking straight.

suguru on his knees was already enough to make you drool, but the way he had pushed your skirt up and gripped your thighs before diving into your pussy—you were starting to think all of this was a dream. but when you looked down and locked eyes with an eager looking suguru, tonguing at your clit before sliding his nose over the sensitive bud and dipping his tongue past your folds, you felt how real all of this was.

you were a mess, chest heaving and hands not knowing what to hold onto. they rest on your boyfriend’s shoulders but you quickly retreat them when he starts sucking on your clit so good, your back arches off of the couch.

“oh—“ you buck up your hips but suguru easily pins you back down with a single hand. “oh god.” you sigh and throw your head back, hands gripping onto the couch.

your boyfriend looks up once again, and he has to hold himself back from fisting his cock at the sight of you—a fucked out mess from his mouth. your hair was everywhere, and your lips looked swollen from his kisses. you don’t seem to notice the way he’s staring at you, solely focused on the way he’s sucking on your clit and he chuckles. he does and watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, so fucking pretty.

you try to fuck yourself on his tongue, grinding on his mouth for any sort of relief. your could taste your orgasm, it was at the tip of your tongue and when suguru pins you down to the couch with his strong hands, watching his arms flex is what sends you over the edge.

“that’s right, baby come on,” his praise makes you whine out loud. “come on baby, let that pussy make a mess on me.”

you cum on suguru’s tongue with a mixture of a cry and a whine, toes curling and your thighs shaking as you try to come down from your orgasm. each kiss your boyfriend presses to your clit as you let your orgasm wash over you sends a jolt through your body, and right when you think he’s done, he’s standing up and the visible bulge in his pants makes your mouth water.

you expect him to free his cock from his pants, and the eager look on your face makes him chuckle.

“what? you want this?” his hand palms his cock and you nod, hands resting on his thighs as his bulge is now at eye level with you. “this is what you’ve been wanting all night, right baby?” his hand rests at the top of your head, and your chest swells with something when you look up at him and find him staring down at you, looking so proud. butterflies dance in your stomach as you hold eye contact with him, your hand tracing his bulge with delicate fingers.

“go on, kiss it,” your hands start to unbuckle his belt but his quiet “ah, ah” makes you halt your movements.

“kiss it through the pants baby, I don’t think you’re ready to have it yet,” you don’t try to protest, fingers grabbing his thighs before pressing a kiss to his bulge. you drag your tongue over the fabric of his pants until you reach his belt. you push up his shirt and kiss his stomach before sliding your tongue over the same happy trail that almost drove you crazy earlier that night.

“one more baby,” his hand rests under your chin and tilts up for you to look at him. you kiss the bulge again, and again and again. you hear suguru chuckle from above and his hand caresses your throat for a bit.

you watch with eager eyes as his hand starts to unbuckle his belt and you rest your hands on the back of his thighs, patiently waiting for him to throw the belt somewhere before you’re unzipping his pants and freeing his cock from its confines. you hold his heavy in your hand, stroke it a couple of times before kissing the angry tip.

“fuuuck, look at you,” his hand goes back to your neck and squeezes it. “not so worried about satoru finding out anymore, hm?” the lazy grin he flashes you makes you shift on the couch and you’re suddenly aware that you’re grinding your pussy against satoru’s couch.

you shake your head and tap the tip of his dick on your lips and then wrapping them around the sensitive head. you pull away from his cock completely before kissing the base of his cock, the sight of you appreciating his cock with kisses and licks makes suguru place a hand on top of your head.

“shit, baby,” you lick all the way from the base up to the tip before pushing his cock inside your mouth. your hand wraps around the rest of his cock and you start to bob your head at a slow pace, your smaller fingers trying their best to stimulate all of his cock. suguru looks absolutely breathtaking from this angle.

his hair was sticking to his forehead and he had his shirt pull all the way up, holding it in place with his hand. his hips buck towards your mouth a few times and you gag each time, pulling away from him to breathe only to wrap your mouth around him not only five seconds later. he wishes he could find your eagerness amusing, but he finds it hot. he can feel his thighs tingling and the drool that’s trickling down to his balls makes the sight of you sucking him off on his best friend’s couch even hotter.

“yeah, just like that,” he sighs and throws his head back. his eyes flutter shut and you take it as a sign to go faster, your other hand finds his balls and you carefully start to fondle them, you hollow your cheeks and bob your head faster.

“fuck baby, mhm,” he looks down at you and finds you staring up at him, flashing you a smile that reaches up to his flushed cheeks. “god, I could fall in love all over again.”

you let go of his balls and slowly let go of his base before bracing yourself on his thighs. suguru watches as you inhale before pushing his entire cock down your throat, gagging and then pulling away.

“b-baby,” he chokes out, his hand finding the back of your head. you repeat the same motion once, and then twice and the faster you got, the harder it was for suguru to have complete control over himself.

“breathe in for me,” his hands grab your face and you do as he tells you, closing your eyes as you brace yourself for the contact. suguru starts fucking your face at a slow pace, but it picks up when he hears the sound of your throat being absolutely destroyed. you gag on him a couple of time and there’s drool on your lap and on the couch, but you don’t let it stop you from nuzzling your nose against suguru’s pubes.

your boyfriend chokes out a few curse words as he cums down your throat, and when he pulls away, his hands are all over your neck, caressing it and praising you for taking him so well. you cough a few times and there’s tears running down your cheeks, but you still manage to flash your tall lover a drunken smile and your hand finds its way towards his very sensitive cock.

“baby—“ he tries to protest, his eyes squeezing shut.

“more suguru,” you kiss the tip and he almost falls over. “I want more. if we’re gonna do it on satoru’s couch, might as well make it worth it, yeah?”

you were the devil, and suguru who usually bragged about how hard it is for anyone to trick him was easily falling in your trap.

he towers over you on the couch and kisses you so roughly you’re pushed back on the couch. your legs wrap around his middle and your arms find his neck, and you can’t deny how good it feels to have suguru’s big body covering you whole with so much ease.

his cock quickly hardens from you two making out, and when you feel it poke your thigh, your hand reaches down to stroke it and your thumb grazes the tip.

“you’re having too much fun,” he whispers against your lips and you giggle, but it quickly dies down when he pushes past your wet folds with so much ease. you don’t need time to adjust, but the force in which he was fucking you with knocks the wind out of your lungs.

“satoru will never find out what we did on his couch,” he says, out of breath. “he will never know that I ate this weeping pussy so good on his couch,” his hand then finds your neck and squeezes with a lazy grin. “or that I’m fucking it stupid while he’s away on a mission,”

each word goes straight towards your pussy, your brain seems to stop functioning because you stop responding to your boyfriend and your lips are parted in pleasure. his thrusts are getting rougher and sloppier, and he presses a hand on your stomach with an eager grin.

“if you’re gonna cum on me again, might as well make it messy.” you don’t understand what he means at first, too lost in the feeling of your approaching orgasm on your fingertips. but when it washes over you in violent waves and small cries and suguru fails to pull away from you, but chooses to press harder on your stomach, you start to panic.

“suguru—“ you choke out a sob when the tip of his cock keeps abusing the same spot and over again. “suguru, it’s too much—!”

“you can take it,” his voice is low and his eyes are fixated on the way your squelching pussy seems to not want to let go of him. “just one more baby, okay? one—“ he sighs out and his pace falters for a second but he finds eagerness once again when he sees your head thrown back and hears the cries of pleasure.

he pushes your legs up to your chest and presses them there as he pounds into you with all of his strength. the couch starts moving with each monstrous drive of his hips, and your eyes widen when you feel something down there.

“suguru wait—“ your hands try to push at his shoulders. “m-messy, it’s gonna be messy!”

“good,” he keeps fucking into you and pins you down to the couch with his weight. “come on, I know this pussy can make a mess,”

your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel his pelvis rub down on your clit, and along with the tip of his cock incessantly abusing that sensitive spongy spot, your body finally lets go and you let the earth shattering orgasm wash over you in shaky waves and a loud cry.

suguru curses under his breath when he feels you spray him with hot liquid but he doesn’t stop and continues to fuck into you until he empties himself inside you with a groan before pulling away from you, afraid to hurt you by plopping himself on top of you.

it takes you a good minute to catch your breath, and suguru caresses your stomach snd thighs, soft praises fill the air before you can finally look him in the eye with a less hazy mind.

“hi baby,” he says softly, a hand resting on your stomach.

“hi,” you reply in a voice barely above a whisper and he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” you don’t say anything and let him lift you up and carry you to one of satoru’s guest bathrooms.

despite feeling drowsy, your earlier concern resurfaces at the top and when you jolt as your boyfriend sits you on the toilet seat, he quickly expresses his worry about hurting you.

“did I hurt you?”

“are we gonna clean satoru’s couch before we leave?”

suguru stares down at you in amusement but answers you anyway.

“I’ll get a cleaner baby, you don’t worry that pretty head, okay?” you hum in response. there’s silence for a moment before you speak up again.

“that poor cleaner,” you say sleepily, head resting on suguru’s stomach. “give him a tip, okay?”

your boyfriend stifles a laugh and pats your head.

“yeah baby, no problem.”

—

two days later, you’re laying in bed with your boyfriend, watching a random show on TV before his phone starts pinging again. you both lock eyes before he's checking who's texting him. and lo and behold,

gojo

SO YOU DID TAKE MY OFFER

gojo

i told you my couch is comfortable

gojo

but damn getting a cleaner for it???? you two sure got comfortable

suguru shows you the messages exchanged between himself and his best friend and he laughs when your face still turns a red color.

“I told you he wouldn’t mind.”

“no! he knows we’re messy!” your boyfriend pulls you on top of him and his hand lands on your ass with a harsh smack.

“you mean filthy,”

“not the point!”

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