#I had a lot of fun with the lighting. as you can tell

[omid-1]

SPORTS CAR ᯓ★ — LHS

Pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend loves sports cars. One night you went for a little drive in his new car and you had a lot of fun in the process

Genre: smut, smut, smut, and a little fluff

Word count: 2-3 k

₊˚⊹ᰔ This fanfic is written with inspiration from song , "sports car" by Tate McRae. I recommend listening to this song!! ₊˚⊹ᰔ

Warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, sex in car,semi public sex, established relationship, dirty talks, pet names (slut, whore, etc.), soft dom Hee, oral ( fem receiving), swearing, fingering, squirting, cum, raw sex ( don’t do it!!!), fluff a little, riding dick, teasing, heeseung has big dick, creampie, they are just horny couple lol, ( sorry if I missed something)

English is not my first language so sorry if there are any mistakes

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩.

Your boyfriend Heeseung has loved sports cars since forever. It has been his passion since childhood. He was telling you often that if he could, he would buy as many of them as possible but in your opinion he already had them a lot , because as many as three.

However, you didn’t mind that he has them because when you see your boyfriend happy then you are too.

When you both had the time you were going for aimless evening rides around the city. You derived a lot of pleasure from it because you enjoyed spending time with him that way because you were just the two of you, you were talking about everything or you were just singing yours favorite songs from your shared playlist and at times you just sat in silence and enjoyed a quiet moment together.

However, you were complaining sometimes because you think he is driving too fast and you are worrying about him that he can get mandate or worse, cause an accident.

Lately Heeseung has gone to the other end of city just to buy a new car. When you saw this car for the first time you were happily surprised. It was low, black Porche.

You think that heeseung remembered that you once told him that you wanted him to have a black car and he decided to choose those for you. You could only imagine that it was expensive as hell.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩.

One evening you had a day off from work together and it happens rarely because both of you are very busy and you come home late.

You lie together cuddled up on the couch and you watch some movie. It’s almost midnight but suddenly you get an idea

,,baby” you say quietly because you’re not sure if he’s asleep and you see that he looks at you. Heeseung gently touches your back, raised an eyebrow and calmly say ,,Yes honey, what happened?”

You look at him and you think that he is so cute when he looks so calmly and you answer ,, I have an idea. What do you think about taking a ride around city in your new car?”

You wait for his answer and you see that his eyes shone at your idea and he smiles softly ,,it sounds perfect, let’s go babe”

He takes your hand and you get out of bed.

Heeseung is very keen for it. Without wasting time you put on his hoodie and your shoes. When you are ready, you leave home. You hold hand and you enter the underground garage.

He opens car and opens the door for you and you go inside. You smile and even if it’s the most normal and obvious gesture it gives you butterflies in your stomach when he opens the car door for you.

He drives out of the parking and you look out of the window. ,,it’s been so long since we went somewhere together in the night”

Heeseung says and you look at him when he drives and you answer ,, it’s true, I missed it”

He drives in the center of the city and the lights are on everywhere. There is such a nice vibe and atmosphere. You and heeseung don’t talk anything and you can only hear quiet music from the radio.

Heeseung holds his hand on your thigh. He always does it when you go somewhere or do anything. He needs to keep hands on you. This has been his habit since the beginning of your relationship.

You look at his face which is focused on the road. You think that he looks so hot and sexy. You always think so when he drives car. You look at his although messy but perfectly cut hair, brown eyes from which the light from outside is now reflected and slightly parted lips.

He wears black undershirt through which you can perfectly see his arm muscles. And Goddamn just by the way you look at him you are already wet and horny as hell. When you stare at him like that you aren’t at all focused on what he says.

He stops at a red light and looks at you with sweet and teasing smile because he saw that you stare at him ,, are you seeing something you like?”

You blush a little when he caught you starting at him and you nod. You noticed that he starts to flirt and tease with you. And God you love it so much. He has been doing it since forever and you find it so attractive and you love it most when he talks a lot during sex.

You can see that he smirked and raises his eyebrow. He exactly knows what you want but he will tease with you ,,hmm, what did you see? Maybe you will tell me, princess?”

You feel him touching you higher and higher on your thigh. You really like it and you start squirming in your seat. The lights turn green and he moves on. He doesn’t stop touching you. You feel him putting his hand slowly under your sweatpants.

You moaned quietly and you squirm in your seat. He says in a teasing tone ,, You are such an impatient slut”

Heeseung doesn’t look at you at all and he is only focused on road. It seems as if it doesn’t bother him at all but you know know it’s different. And it makes you even more horny.

He runs two fingers slowly and gently over your clit and he feels that you’re so wet ,,you’re already so wet and I barely touched you”

His deep, seductive voice and dirty talks makes you desperate and you need more. You beg him ,,Hee.. please do something”

Heeseung holds the steering wheel with one hand and the other one he gently and teasingly massages your pussy through your panties.

His smirk widens when he hears your desperate voice ,, such a needy little whore for me” he says ,,well, you’ll get what you need”

Then Heeseung puts two fingers in your panties and massages your clit slowly with two fingers from top to bottom. In between, he tells you to take off your pants and you do so. You spread your legs so that he has greater access to your core. You close your eyes as you feel him speed up massaging your clit and your face contorts with pleasure.

Heeseung looks at you when he drives and he feels that he’s hard. He could cum in his pants just by looking at you. He thinks you are so hot and pretty when you break down for him from pleasure. (but he always thinks that you’re pretty and hot ^^)

You breathe hard and moan loud as you cling to the backrest next to the car door.

You feel him inserting two fingers into your cunt. You moan ,,mmmm, fuckkk, it’s so good”

his fingers are so long that it hits every spots and it stretches you so perfectly.

,,your pussy takes my fingers so deep and tight. Will you take on even more, like the desperate whore you are??”

You moan loudly when he speeds up to fuck you with his three fingers ,, fuck…!! Please!! This is soo…. fucking good”

You are making more and more nasty and pornographic sounds by the second. You feel that the knot in your stomach is going to burst and you breath loudly and practically scream ,,Hee…!!! Oh my god!!!! I can’tttt!!!”

Heeseung turns somewhere and he still fingers you with three fingers so hard and fast. He rubs your clit with his thumb and then he practically gives you the command that you have to do ,,cum on my fingers baby”.

You experience your orgasm very intensely. You lean your head against the seat and close your eyes and moan his name loudly. You squirt on his hand and on the seat. His hand is all in your juices.

You watch him and he licks his fingers which are all in your squirts and cum. You catch your breath. You’re tired but when you see that he licks his finger in this way. You want more.

Heeseung parks in some abandoned, dark parking next to the forest. You look at him with slight embarrassment but then he explains ,, I need to fuck you so bad, baby”.

At his words you feel that your pussy is wet again. He tilts his seat back and darkens the windows in the car. You watch him and you’re not sure what you should do. suddenly in a calm but slightly teasing tone he explains ,,come on babe, sit on my lap like good girl”

You sit on his lap and you immediately feel his bulge beneath you. You begin to kiss each other passionately and tenderly. During the kiss you start riding his clothed cock and he starts moaning in the kiss. You pull away from each other slightly although he still keeps his hands on your waist and you on his shoulders.

You help him pull down his pants and boxers and heeseung teasing ,,will you ride my dick, little slut?”

You put your hands in his hair and slowly you start going down on his cock. You contort your face, but it's both out of mild pain and out of pleasure because everytime you have sex with him you have to get used to his length because he's so big and even if he fingered you before, you still need a moment to take him all the way in.

Heeseung holds his hands on your hips and rests his head on the seat. He can feel your walls tightly clench his cock and he feels too good. You take him all in and he praises you tenderly ,, you are doing it so well baby, took all my dick” You hold your hands on his shoulders and start moving your hips up and down his cock.

Heeseung moans and his face contorts with satisfaction. You are so wet and tight around him and he thinks that he won’t last long.

When he sees that you are starting to get tired and your legs start to shake, he wants to take control ,,calm down princess, let me take care of you”

He puts his hands on your hips and thrusts his cock deep into your pussy. From the feeling you moan loudly and pull him by the hair ,, hee…!!!! Oh fuckkk..””

His length thrusts into you quickly and the tip hits your uterine neck. You practically cry out in pleasure and lay your head on his neck. In the car, you can only hear the wet and lewd sounds of it as his cock thrusts into your wet pussy ,, oh my….. fucking God, pleaseeee, faster…..”

You moan into his neck and he, at your request, begins to pound into you even deeper if it’s possible ,, yes baby that’s it, fuck!!!! Take it all like a little slut!” He says practically groaning.

He lays his hands on your buttocks. You feel that you will cum for the second time this evening and even more intense ,, fuckkkk baby!!!! I’m goin-… to cu….!!!! Please fill me!!”

Heeseung is also close and when he hears your moans and request he smirks. A few more times he thrusts hard into you until he spills his cum in your pussy.

You come at the same time and your cums merge. You lay your head on his shoulder. Heeseung continues to keep his cock deeply buried in your pussy. you often do this after sex because it is very intimate and you feel close to each other then.

Underneath you is quite a mess from the cum and tomorrow when there are traces left on the seats he will surely complain about it.

You catch your breaths as Heeseung gently touches your back and leaves kisses on your neck. After a brief moment of silence, heeseung speaks up,, I guess we should do it more often in the car”

You look at him with a smile and gently touch his cheek and answer with a teasing voice

,,Yes, and the best part is that we have three more cars to try out’’

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩.

Thank you for reading! ♥︎

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

buff guy

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Part 4 ɞ

❥ CW: chubby fem reader x buff guy, fluffy date

❥ A/N: better call me butter bc i am on a roll!! Here's part 4!!

He picks you up again on Saturday, same car, casual clothes.

"You look nice," he says when you open the door.

"Thank you," you reply, staring at his biceps. "Your shirt is really tight." He looks down, then back at you.

"Do you not like it?" You scoff.

"I mean..." You press your lips together, smoothing out your lip gloss. "You're... very buff and very attractive... Anyone would love to stare at you in that shirt."

"You think I'm attractive?" You gulp, holding your purse close.

"I... I thought you knew that. I mean... I'm sure everyone finds you attractive."

"The only one I care about is you."

Your cheeks burn, and he holds his hand out for you.

"Shall we?"

You chose a horror movie, but now that you're halfway through the movie, you're not sure why.

There's quite a lot of suspense in this movie, too much in fact. Every time the main character turns a corner, you tense in your seat. You're so scared you can barely eat your popcorn.

"Are you okay?" he whispers gently, leaning close to you. You nod, but realize he can't see you in the dark.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just wondering when the jumpscares will happen." You hear him chuckle quietly.

And then, right on cue, there's a jumpscare. You jolt, hand reaching out, grabbing something solid to ground yourself. Once the scene is over and you're finally able to breathe, you realize what you're holding onto.

"I-I'm sorry," you whisper, beginning to pull away, but he grabs your hand, keeping it on his bicep.

"It's fine. I'm here." His hand is so big against yours, so warm, safe. It's insane how big his arm is. Is he flexing?

You keep your thoughts to yourself, trying to focus in on the movie, but the heat coming from his body is remarkable. You swallow hard, taking a leap of faith and resting your head against his shoulder. He tenses, but relaxes. You stay like that the rest of the movie.

"That ending was so predictable," you complain as you leave the theater. "I mean, the ghost is destroyed by the forces of good? That's so cheesy."

"You have a lot of opinions about the movie." You slow, looking back at him.

"Sorry, I—"

"Please." He reaches for your hand, squeezing it. "Don't ever apologize for telling me how you feel. I love hearing you talk, even about the things you don't like."

He's rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. It's so so warm.

"...Okay."

"Would you like to go home?"

You did. You were tired, but you had fun. You liked hanging out with him, even if it was in the quiet dark.

"Did... you want to do anything else?"

"I want to do what you want."

You huff, pouting slightly, which he smiles at. You twist your mouth in thought, before lighting up.

"Oh! There's this Italian ice place closeby that I really like! We could go there..." You pause. "...If you want."

"I would love to." He pulls you closer by your hand, bringing your body towards his. "Show me where it is."

The Italian ice spot is not far from the theater. In fact, you're able to walk there, although your heels are starting to pinch. You ignore it, encouraged by the idea of a sweet treat as you enter the place of business.

There's a line, so the two of you get in it, looking at the menu.

"They have fruity flavors but also milk-based flavors, like cookie dough, and they also have custard you can mix in." You point to the menu. "I like getting the blue raspberry and cotton candy! But it looks like they don't have blue raspberry today."

"Would you like to go somewhere else?" You glance at him.

"What? No, I like this place! I'll just get mango or something." He nods, standing tall again.

"Excuse me." The two of you turn to see a blonde woman standing there, phone clutched in her hand. "I hate to bother you, but you're just so hot! I was wondering if I could have your number."

You feel your heart sink. Of course he would have other women interested in him. This probably happens all the time. Why would you bother trying to get to know him when he could have any woman he wants?

"That's very rude." A strong arm wraps around your shoulders and pulls you towards his side. "I am clearly on a date." The woman flushes and raises her hands.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! I thought you guys were siblings." His face turns sour.

"Siblings? That's ridiculous. We look nothing alike. Do you need glasses?" She blushes darker and takes a step back.

"I-I'm sorry. My mistake. I'll leave you two be." She shrinks away to her other friends who are now glaring at the two of you. You want to disappear.

"You didn't have to be so rude," you whisper to Guy, and he grunts.

"I wasn't being rude. I was being honest. She needs to learn to mind her business."

You hum in thought, looking back at the menu. His arm doesn't leave your shoulders until you step forward to order.

"This is very good," he remarks as he stuffs spoonfuls of Italian ice into his mouth. Of course someone of his stature would get the Italian ice and custard in the largest size available.

"I'm glad you like it," you reply, taking dainty bites of your fruity ice. "This is my favorite sweet spot. It's more popular in the summer, but there's always something nice about a sweet frozen treat during the cold weather!"

He smiles, licking cream off his lips. You swallow at the action, clearing your throat and focusing on your dessert.

"So, um... what are your hobbies? I know you go to the gym but do you do anything else?" He shrugs.

"Not really. If I'm not doing my job or working out, I don't do much."

"Oh..." You pick at your dessert. "Don't you get bored?" He shrugs again.

"Sometimes. When I get bored at work or home, I usually come to see you."

You feel your cheeks warm up, but you try to hold your ground.

"Oh, so you only think of me when you're bored, huh?" His eyes go wide, but he relaxes when he sees you grin.

"You're fucking with me."

"Mm-hm!" you say with a nod, giggling. He shakes his head, but he's smiling.

"No. I think about you all the time, actually." You feel yourself melting like your Italian ice, but you try to stay strong.

"You must get tired thinking of me."

"Quite the contrary." He scoops up the last of his dessert, shoveling it into his mouth. "You're the most interesting person I've ever met."

"You barely know me."

"I know." He puts down his empty cup, staring at you. "That's why I'm trying to change that."

You bite your lip, taking a deep breath. You stare at the last third of your dessert.

"I don't want anymore."

"Do you want to take it home?"

"No, it'll melt and won't be good anymore... but I don't want to just waste it."

He holds out his hand, which you stare at before you slide your dessert over to him. He takes it from you, tipping the cup back and drinking the rest of the slush in your cup. You watch his Adam's apple bob in his throat, amazed at how it moves. He puts the cup down once he's done, giving you a thumbs up, which makes you smile.

"Thank you."

"No problem. I'll always be here to eat your leftovers."

You giggle at that, standing up.

"Alright, I'm ready to go home now."

You discard your trash and take about ten steps out of the Italian ice place before you have to stop. Guy slows beside you.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, I—" Your face twists in pain. "My heels really hurt."

"Oh..." He clenches his fists before unclenching them. "Here. Let me carry you to the car."

"Wha—"

Before you can ask what he's talking about, he's leaning down, arms outstretched as he picks you up bridal style, lifting you to his chest. He starts walking away.

"OH MY GOD! PUT ME DOWN!"

"Don't wiggle. I'll drop you."

"PUT ME ON THE GROUND RIGHT NOW OR I'LL SCREAM!"

"You're already screaming."

"PUT ME DOWN!!"

He stops at a bench, leaning down and resting you on it. You take heavy breathes, lightly slapping his arm.

"You can't just pick up a girl like that! You need to ask for permission!"

"I'm sorry."

The two of you rest in silence as you catch your breath, hand on your chest. He sighs, squatting down so that he's closer to eye level with you.

"Stay here. I'm going to go get the car and bring it to you."

"That sounds like a much better idea than carrying me to your car."

"I'm sorry." He puts his hand on your knee. "I'll be back. Don't move."

"I won't," you say as he stands, giving you one last look before he walks away swiftly.

You lean back on the bench and stare at the sky, taking deep breaths.

He picked you up. He picked you up and carried you, and he didn't complain about your weight or act like it was even hard. No one has ever picked you up like that before. Is he really that strong? He doesn't even seem real—

"Excuse me? Ma'am?" You blink, escaping your thoughts and looking at the young man who was now in front of you. "I'm sorry to bother you, but do you know the direction to the movie theater?"

"Oh! Yeah, of course."

You start explaining the route, the directions he would need to take, but he wasn't really getting it.

"Wait, so which street do I take a left?"

You sigh, explaining again, this time slower as Guy's car pulls up in front of you. You're still explaining as he gets out, approaches the two of you and aggressively grabs the young man's shoulder.

"She's taken," he grunts between gritted teeth. The young man looks up at him, frightened, starting to shake.

"I-I-I just wanted to know where the m-movie theater was." Guy blinks, his expression relaxing as he lets go of the young man.

"Oh. Sorry."

The young man scurries away from the two of you before you can finish giving directions. You look up at Guy, arching your brow.

"So I'm taken now?" He swallows, looking down at the ground.

"Only if you want to be."

You sigh, shaking your head as you stand.

"Alright, big boy. Take me home."

The drive home is silent, and Guy has a death grip on the wheel. You don't comment on it, instead looking out your window and watching the world go by. He pulls up to your apartment, opening your door for you as usual. He leans down with his arms outstretched, but you raise your hand.

"Do not carry me." He pulls back, letting you stand up on your own, closing the door behind you. He follows you up the steps, pausing when you turn around at the door.

"Before you go in," he starts, fists clenching, "I would like to apologize for a few things today."

"What?"

"I would like to apologize for carrying you without permission. That was very rude of me. I would also like to apologize for saying that you were taken. That's not my decision to make. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

You sigh, crossing your arms and leaning on one leg.

"You're a little rough around the edges, huh?" He twists his mouth, unable to look at you. You sigh again. "You're lucky you're cute, or else I'd be super pissed." He swallows, looking up at you.

"You think I'm cute?" You shrug.

"Yeah, in a rugged, scary kind of way. Like a pitbull that wears pajamas." He smiles softly at that, and it reaches his eyes.

"Thank you. That's the best compliment I've ever gotten." You laugh at that, throwing your head back. You calm yourself down, smiling at him.

"You're really something, huh, Guy?" He shrugs, still smiling at you. He suddenly frowns, glancing at the ground.

"I have to tell you something." Your heart sinks.

"W-What?"

"I have to go on a business trip this coming week. I'm leaving Sunday night."

"Oh! Oh, okay," you reply, relieved that it wasn't anything bad.

"But I should be back on Friday evening, if everything goes well." You nod.

"Got it. Thank you for telling me." He stares at you, shifting on his feet.

"Can I text you while I'm gone?" You think about it, then nod. He seems to light up at that. "Can I call you at night?" You shrug.

"Sure, if you want to."

"I would love to."

You rub your arms, thinking. You take a step closer, motioning him towards you. He tilts his head a bit, leaning closer. You lean in with little thought, pressing a chaste kiss against his cheek. It's light, barely there, but it was still something. You pull away, and Guy is staring off into the distance, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Are... you okay?"

"I..." He clears his throat. "I gotta go."

"Oh! Okay."

He spins on his heel, taking a few steps down before stopping, turning back and returning up the stairs. He grabs your hand gently, placing a kiss on the back of it before giving a swift 'goodnight' and going down the steps again. He practically races into his car, and once it's on, he speeds off. You watch his car leave, furrowing your brow.

"What a weirdo..."

[onceinablueberrymoon]

(cheers) to the future | salesman (recruiter) x reporter!reader

scenario: the final game has finished, and player 456 is the winner. after signing off, reporter!reader visits the recruiter for a well-deserved, celebratory dinner. setting: in seoul during season 1, directly after the squid game between gi-hun and sang-woo (my other beloved rip) warnings: (mostly?) light, fluffy smut; (they truly love each other!); fem!reader; no use of y/n; second person POV; salesman is referred to as recruiter; reader ranks about equal to recruiter in the games’ hierarchy; brief mention of alcohol; just in case, minors dni! word count: 1.1k notes: baby’s first nsfw, i hope it lives up to your expectations :’) please comment and let me know what you think of this, i appreciate any feedback ♡

you can read part 1 here! and happy lunar new year, everyone! 🌙 borders by @enchanthings-a and @strangergraphics-archive!

“No! Sang-woo, no…”

A cry rang throughout the arena.

“And with a bittersweet ending to this gripping fight between childhood friends, the 33rd edition of the Games has concluded. We will return shortly with the highlights of Player 456’s journey to victory. Our coverage will begin in three hours. Thank you for watching.”

Bowing to the camera, you remained frozen in place until the director gave the all-clear. You sighed. The final game didn’t turn out the way you – or anyone, really – expected. The once cheerful, happy-go-lucky man had won because of his friend’s sudden sacrifice. Surely, there would be lots of questions from viewers around the world. You pinched your nose – just thinking about it gave you a headache.

At least you were on break for a couple of hours. While the others at the studio would most certainly go out for drinks to celebrate the end of the Games, the recruiter had invited you for dinner at his apartment. It wasn’t very far, only a 15 minute walk. You gathered your belongings and slipped out before anyone noticed you left.

“Wow, you prepared a feast!”

Much to your surprise and delight, the recruiter had prepared a lovely meal of soft tofu stew, multigrain purple rice, and a variety of side dishes. He had even lit a few candles to add to the ambience. He pulled out a chair for you to sit on before going to sit across the table from you.

As the two of you began eating, he congratulated you on your wonderful performance over the last week.

“I heard you may be up for a promotion,” the recruiter noted in his usual casual tone. 

You scoffed, “I don’t know if it counts as a promotion, per se… They want me to report on the upcoming American version of the Games.” You shrugged. “I imagine it can’t be too different from the Korean Games.”

The recruiter smiled, but his eyes held a darkness to them.

“On the contrary. Rumour has it that gambling and addiction run more rampant there than in Korea… I expect those Games to be equally, if not even more, exciting. And with our dear reporter on the case…” He leaned forward, his eyes twinkling.

“Absolutely electrifying.”

You blushed, breaking eye contact with him. He laughed and continued eating his meal.

As always, the conversation flowed easily between the two of you. You commended him once again on his top-notch recruiting skills. 

“Did you catch the final game? I still can’t believe 456 won… I was truly rooting for 218. Someone like him could be the next Frontman, don’t you think?” You asked, picking at your favourite side dish with your chopsticks.

The recruiter nodded, but seemed as if he was lost in thought. 

“He wasn’t hard on the eyes either. Charming, sharp… Maybe he could have become a recruiter as well? We could have had some fun.” This caught the recruiter’s attention, his eyes gazing into yours. 

He cleared his throat, but your comment clearly affected him. “I’ve already started gathering information on prospective players. I think these new ones will be even more interesting.” 

“Oh?” you cocked your head to the side, “Do tell.”

He continued, “A cryptocurrency streamer on YouTube, Lee Myung-gi. Many of his followers are one click away from falling into serious debt. It’s only a matter of time before his advice leads them to desperate measures.” The recruiter’s eyes sparkled. “I can only imagine how he fares when his loyal fans turn on him.”

Intrigued, you smiled softly. He had clearly been working hard on this case.

Once you both finished eating, you helped him clean the table.

“I’m still surprised you went all out for dinner. I thought it’d be something simple, like ramyeon or take-out,” you paused, “Not that this wasn’t perfect. You made an amazing stew.” You moved to peck him on the cheek. 

The recruiter’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Ramyeon? Well, why didn’t you say so?”

You groaned. Of course he’d turn your comment into an innuendo. 

“I’m always open to ramyeon with you.” 

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the two of you moved to his sofa, and got a bit handsy with each other. It started with innocent touches and kissing. By the time you broke for air, your lips were swollen and your faces were flushed red. 

The recruiter loosened his tie, making you bite your lip in anticipation. You helped him shrug off his suit jacket before tossing it on the floor.

As you continued to kiss, you straddled him and pressed yourself against the growing bulge in his dress pants, making you both moan. He pulled you closer and you ran your fingers through his neatly styled hair. 

He easily popped open the buttons on your blouse with his teeth, a skill he’d perfected from your many trysts. He pushed aside your bra cup before taking your breast in his hand to gently fondle it, brushing his thumb over your nipple. You whimpered, and he flashed his classic smirk before drawing circles around your nipple. His other hand was on your waist, keeping you steady while you rocked your hips against his. 

As you attempted to unbutton his shirt, he trailed kisses down your neck and left a few hickeys, despite your protests. 

“Seriously? I go live in like,” you glanced at the clock on the wall, “One hour!” 

The recruiter took in your disheveled appearance and was very pleased with his handiwork. The world would see that their enchanting reporter had already been claimed — only he was privy to your full attention.

“Wait, one hour?” You did a double-take at the clock. 

You panted, stopping your rutting pace entirely. He groaned, grinding his hips up against yours in an attempt to lure you back in. 

“Sorry, I have to go. Makeup’s going to have a field day with these hickeys…” 

You lifted yourself off of him, much to both his and his body’s displeasure. However, he knew he couldn’t keep you from your job. The higher-ups would throw a fit otherwise. You could continue your session later tonight.

As you cleaned up and made yourself presentable for the public, the recruiter went to his kitchen and returned with two glasses of wine. He handed one to you and made a toast.

“To my lovely, charming reporter, who continues to fascinate me every day.”

You blushed, then replied with your own toast.

“To my handsome, mischievous recruiter, who never fails to impress me.”

He smiled, and kissed you on the lips.

“And to the games that brought us together.”

You both clinked your glasses, wishing for an even more thrilling spectacle to come.

[figueroths]

okay so this is long and likely impacted by my poor memory but I wrote a lot of it down friday night so it’s still somewhat accurate!! but here are my favorite things that went down during gauntlet at the garden (which is still so crazy to not only play msg but sell it out!!)

she’s already famous but still worth mentioning: the brennan murph kiss

lou genuinely in distress about the pyrotechnics because brennan repeatedly chose violence hitting them without warning

siobhan rolling a giant dice for world’s biggest box of doom marked out on the floor plus getting the front audience to get their luck all over it

luck failing and rowan having to help out with the roll anyway!

getting to do a re-roll chant

business dragon as thee recurring bit from jump

telling wealth by nail beds + siobhan’s unnoticed callback to this mid-show

oil tycoon family money energy

kug having friends in the 80s who called themselves business dragons

kug ranking his friends without hesitation

sofia ranking a new rat in the crew as her number one and kug being soooo offended because he put sofia as his number one

the new rat’s name is parker and he has a car but they can’t use it because it doesn’t work and emily running with it saying of course she assumed he had a car because his name is parker and brennan adding that if it did work they’d call him driver and then doing cute little chin hands or smth like that

murph having his starstruck hair 🥰

siobhan looking so good in the yellow outfit and just not having these monster’s bullshit

ally trying to cast fireball on a dragon and then arguing can it be dream sparkles - successfully!

emily looking like a snack and at some point referring to herself as one - oh because calroy asked what kind of food they were

defeating junkmother by befriending her

lou jumping in when brennan had more than one character tell sofia that she reminds them of someone and being like “who reminds you of someone is it me???? is it me????”

the lighting being off when they swapped places post-intermission and then murph decided to play to the crowd and the whole group got in on an impromptu battle royal where lou hit murph with a stone cold stunner - brennan letting them go on (including siobhan with a steel chair) only to be like “and now im being told you need to be in your seats for them to adjust the lighting”

gilear being there at all

gilear dying immediately (yogurt related ofc)

audience participation on rolling for support

nat 20 roll to get ayda (i got a nat 20 on that roll but didn’t even think to screenshot it 😔)

ayda saying she’s gay as hell

ayda being there to protect her paramour’s father 🥺

ayda saving gilear’s ass from getting roasted

ally calling themself out about including pete’s medical bracelet in the character design for it to specifically be carrying testosterone but it doesn’t come in pill form so pete was just walking around with an empty medical bracelet that whole campaign (but now it has adhd meds I think)

wally showing up to shit talk staten island

zac getting the third highest roll on initiative during one fight and then getting the crowd to chant “third highest roll”

kalvaxus getting applauded for ending a crypto bro’s life (literally)

kalvaxus getting polymorphed into a rat and gilear then claiming the mantle of the chosen one and beating the shit out of him

P90X dvds and anachronisms

plug

coronitas on the staten island ferry

making plans they will Not be keeping about hanging out more and living healthier lifestyles

pete giving gilear jaeger from a flask

pete saying plug and gilear have a similar energy

genuinely just the delighted cheers at every gay thing and there were so many gay things

parker the rival rat doing the baby dance correctly but kalvaxus as a dirty little rat does it all wrong and they all start kinda doing it

murph living out his wrestling dreams and doing a heel turn just for the fun of getting booed

there was a shoutout to the two crew but I forgot now if it was murph or emily who rolled it (I think murph but with no confidence behind this thought)

grenade arm sofie!!!!!!!!!

K2 mention

ricky fail flirting with esther

kug magically communicating with the cockroaches across town but everyone starts treating it like a phone call so sofia has her ear pressed up against his chest and then when she asks for visuals (again this is not a phone call) brennan asks how does that work and someone (ally??) said “like teletubbies” agdjsks

emily genuinely sharing staten island facts

back to gilear dying immediately - kingston revivifying him (or a similar spell), someone else also did something I think but I forget because then sofia said she’s giving him a makeover and then proceeded to do semipermanent makeup with the most insane eyebrows

lou wasting his turn doing a bit with gilear just for kalvaxus to have a legendary action next

the kalvaxus battle starting with pete casting a cantrip during a handshake (shocking grasp) for FIVE points of damage ally why are you like this (never change)

junkmother letting ricky get away with a weak reason he counts as discarded (something like he discards his legs when he doesn’t work out enough lmao) while the party attempted to endear themselves to her but not before saying she can tell he’s the fitness expert because that was a stretch

so many closeups of emily like whoever handled the screens you’re so me

brennan (idr which npc) saying quangle and emily laughing through her own joke about pelvic floors pretending sofia heard him say kegel lmfaooo

kug getting charmed into thinking he’s doing audience participation for the nutcracker while tin soldiers try to kill him

all of it! it was all such a great experience and they are so talented and giving and I just had a lot of fun 💕🌸

[hell-drabbles]

Lucifer 6

Summary: You have Lucifer leaning on your torso while you ask him what is it about you that turns him on.

(This drabble is also weirdly sweet, so enjoy!!! I swear I'll write for a different character eventually. I really want to gush about all the ideas in my head with somebody... There's nothing more fun than just gushing about one's own creations.)

"Hmm? What is it about me that turns you on?" You leaned against your hand, idly stroking the side of Lucifer's face as his back rested against your torso. His skin was fully flushed, mouth hanging slightly agape. He turned to try and capture your fingers, but you pulled away. "Come on, you can't avoid the question by stuffing your mouth. Tell me. I won't be angry."

You busied yourself with Lucifer's buttons, popping them open just enough to press patterns into the valley of his chest. A pleasant hum rumbled beneath your fingers, and finally his voice formed words.

"Your… your voice," he said, as if you had a vice around his neck. You've heard of devils being driven mad by lust, but somehow it never connected that such a thing was real. You can't deny it now, not when you see this devil before you ripping holes into the sheets below just to keep from touching himself. You can practically see his every twitch and throb through his pants. Any other devil probably wouldn't have as strong a self restraint as him.

"My voice is all it takes huh?" you sighed, then cupped Lucifer's chin, guiding him up until he can no longer look away from you, "that's cute, actually."

Stray hairs stuck to his skin as Lucifer was overcome with full body shudders. You couldn't help but trail a finger over the pulse on his neck, just to feel the fluttering beats of his heart.

"Mm-hmm, very cute." You back away before Lucifer could lunge for a kiss. His eye narrowed to a light glare, still refusing to give him any mercy. Funny. "You know, I was always fascinated by your eyes." You brushed away the hairs to see them clearly, allowing him to snuggle up into your palm. "They're filled with an endless patience and a soft, soft love for the world around them. I never have to worry about doing anything wrong just for being my stubborn myself. And I find them wonderful. I find you wonderful, Lucifer."

Lucifer has lived too long to be shocked by such words, but they softened him nonetheless. His face was still overtaken by a deep flush, with a small smile that looked almost shaky. "…you love to try and make me cry, don't you?"

You softly laughed, "Yeah yeah, but you know I meant every word."

A breath shuddered it's way out of his throat, "I know. That… also affects me, in many shameful ways."

"A lot of things about me affect you, I see," you readjusted yourself and leaned back against your hands, "show me exactly how. You have my permission now."

His pupils dilated so quickly, you thought his iris would disappear. You feel bad for the poor devil that will probably have to repair his clothing. Tore through that poor thing like it was nothing. And what a nice snake design it had.

Just to further mess with him, nudged his moaning mouth wider and pressed your thumb flat against his tongue. His fangs grazed against your skin, as if Lucifer was entertaining the notion of clamping down and never letting go, but never will go through with it without your say so.

It's nice, never having to worry about you suddenly being subjected to random whims and then being forgotten about once that boredom was sated.

Here was Lucifer, a devil king that was essentially untouchable, a king that forces the other kings to hold a level of caution about them, and a king that was currently masturbating with your permission.

How fun. How nice that you two have found and come to know one another.

[leftneb]

lando in this style :3 for funsies mostly -> oscar in pt. 2

WIP

[lostrealities0]

I DID IT

I finally finished it 😭

[rain-on-wax-feathers]

nonhuman burr, washington, and eliza!!!

[oddly-casual]

This entire scene makes me hurt but I wanna talk about this part in particular because it drives me insane.

Like- Splinter knows they aren’t just running errands. He can see his sons sneaking out thinking their slick and he found all their human stuff bc he’s nosey and if his sons won’t talk to him he’ll just have to investigate himself right?

So Splinter knows his sons are hiding something from him because duh- and he knows they want to be apart of the human world but he’s scared they’ll get hurt so he tries to bring the human world to them.

And you can just see the cringe and discomfort in the boys eyes because their father keeps trying to make them stay but it’ll never be in the way they want it, but they clearly feel bad.

And the real kicker is when Splinter tries that thing he did in the beginning of the movie, where he presses his sons about the truth but he specifically looks at Leo, like the screen cuts to Leo and even Raph looks at Leo because Splinter knows his eldest son would never lie to him.

But then he does

Leo lies right to his fathers face no hesitation and Splinter gets that look that just screams ‘i lost them’ because even if his son’s disobey the rules and don’t talk to him anymore, Leo was like Splinter’s insider into what his kids are doing and how to keep them safe. Splinter lost their trust.

But now even Leo is shutting Splinter out, so Splinter has been completely walled off by his sons and to Splinter he has no idea why because he’s just doing this to protect his kids.

Looking at it from Leo’s perspective, he has a strong sense of Justice. In the beginning when their father grills them about where they’ve been, Leo caves immediately even though he knows it’ll make everyone mad at him.

He braces himself for it too. There’s no reward in telling the truth but Leo does it anyway.

But Leo is a teenager, and teenagers tend to act in their own self interest. So when Leo keeps snitching and it only leads to punishment on all sides

Isolation from his brothers, distance from his father, of course Leo is going to cut his losses and stick to the thing that brings him joy. Possible acceptance and April. It’s also the most we see him bond with his brothers since Leo isn’t trying to follow their fathers rules.

[starpros-sunshine]

Sometimes I wonder why cold symptoms always get worse in the evenings there has to be a logical explanation for that

[thecreatorofworlds]

"Why do you look like me...?"

Yesterday's QSMP trailer got me so hyped that I dropped everything to do a little something for it. These drawings are actually from a COMPLETELY different project I'm working on, but that trailer made me crazy and I wanted to contribute something too, even if it's short.

I'm legitimately SO proud of Quackity, and I'm so grateful for the incredibly kind international community he's created. I admire how much love and passion he has for his projects, and I'm super excited for what's to come! 💕

[arolesbianism]

I am rotating Light so hard in my head rn girlies who just straight up fucking torture ppl cause she can

[bat-connoisseur]

Artfight attack from today! Ash for Spr1ngs on Artfight!

[tonycries]

We Neva Play!

Synopsis. Turns out, the “r” in rivals stands for “really good séx” when a mission becomes a little too hot to handle.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, séx pollen, innappropríate use of jujutsu (like a LOT), pússydrunk Gojo, limitless, both are teachers, creampíes, oraI (fem), síxty-nine, banter, breaking the bed, FÉRAL Gojo, pússy-slappíng, BRÉEDING, spítting, reader’s CT mentioned, Yaga’s had enough, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 6.3k (cries)

A/N. Lacked Gojo in the manga so I present to you more Gojo <3

“Gojo, I will kill you before that curse can-”

“Aw, man!‘ Yuji whines over Nobara’s cackles, reluctantly slapping a few thousand yen onto her outstretched palm. He thuds his head frustratedly against the cool vending machine they were crouched behind, “That was rigged!”

The girl scoffs, counting her hard-earned winnings victoriously, “I told you they wouldn’t even make it until the school gates before fighting. It’s not rigged, it’s common sense - not that you’d know anything about it.” Satisfied, she sneaks a look over the side of the machine at the shrinking backs of you and a too-happy Gojo Satoru. “Besides, we’ll get a rematch soon enough. My money’s on her, double or nothin’.” 

“You really think they’ll kill each other before the mission is over?” Yuji muses, eyes locked on Gojo’s infamous smirk - only widening the closer he drives you dangerously towards an aneurysm. “I bet-”

“No.” Megumi’s deadpan interruption startles them both. And as much as he’d like to pretend he wasn’t cramped with the two idiots stalking their squabbling teachers, he unfortunately, very much, was. “I bet ten thousand yen they kill each other before the mission is over. Or worse - end up dating.”

---

“A love hotel.”

“A love hotel~” Gojo echoes, with a hand clutching faintly at his chest. Swooning over you with each word, “Now, usually you’d have to take me out to dinner first, but for you I will make an except- mmpf-”

Now, Gojo knew he could’ve easily blocked your attack - hell, he didn’t even have to bat an eye to activate limitless. But where was the fun in that? Giving into your elbow digging sharply into his side, he’s only cackling at your venomous words, “I could take down both you and those special grades, y’know?”

“Oh yeah?” he hooks a long finger underneath his blindfold, showing off that infuriating wiggle of his snowy brows. “If you’re so great, then why did Yaga have you assigned with me, pretty girl?”

You sigh, rubbing your throbbing temples, “Only because someone-” And oh, if he had the most renowned eyes in all of jujutsu, then you had the most withering glare. “-completely skipped out on his last mission to stuff his face with sweets, n’ now I’m wasting my time babysitting. So this time, I’m in charge.”

Ah, a woman after his heart - in more ways than one, for sure. 

“Yes, ma’am~” 

Dramatically, he mimics the zipping of his lips shut, readily following you towards the flashy building standing out amongst the bustling Tokyo street. Walls painted such a suggestive pink, neon lights flickering special discounts at passersby - it would have almost been scandalous to be caught outside such an obvious love hotel such as this - if it hadn’t been for the mission, that is. 

“Didn’t think our first date would be at a love hotel.” he chuckles as soon as you reach the gaudy, perfumed reception. And that flickering, wide-eyed stare of the woman behind the counter is enough for Gojo to prattle on, “Now, tell me what room you want, honey-” Throwing an arm around your shoulder, you’re pressed helplessly against his toned front. “-they’ve got candy-themed, anime-themed- oh, they’ve even got a train station-”

“Best to keep our train station fantasies to ourselves-” You simper, subtly stepping on his foot with your own, but that only topples you against him. Instantly, another strong arm snakes around your waist to support your weight, as if second nature, “-isn’t that right, dear?”

And you swear, you could spot a tiny dimple when the ends of his mouth curl even wider into a saccharine sweet grin. “If my memory serves me right, you were the one that dragged me here. Isn’t that right, dear?”

Shivers run down your spine - ones he runs the soft, rounded pads of his fingers up and down along. You’re sure you looked like a disgustingly loving couple to the poor lady working at the counter. And to put her out of her misery, if anything, you recite, “A-anyways- apologies. Room 143, please.” Managing to plaster on a weak smile, it only falls flat when the receptionist hands you your key - and two complimentary condoms along with it. “I- uh- thank you?”

And it’s all you can do to not just shove off the 6’3 thorn at your side when he steers the two of you to the elevator with a disbelieving, “Only two?” 

Though, you’re sure it wouldn’t do much against him, anyway. It never has - because ever since you’d stepped foot through Jujutsu High’s towering gates as its newest teacher, Gojo Satoru seemed to make it his mission in life to get on each and every single one of your nerves. The only mission he’d willingly do, mind you. Insisting on interrupting your classes, hiding you little sweets in your office, pushing your buttons in front of-

“Well, that went as inconspicuous as ever.” Gojo hums, reeling you out of your little reverie. “Of course, it did, thanks to me.”

“‘Inconspicuous’ my ass.” you groan, hastily punching in the ground number for your room. Yaga had said that the veil was already completed around the entirety of the curse-infested floor by now, good - the faster you could get away from Gojo, the more intact your sanity would be. “If it wasn’t for me smoothing things over, she’d be filing a complaint against the sleazy man in a bad Kakashi cosplay at this very moment.”

“Hey! I didn’t see you putting on any Oscar-worthy performances. And my Kakashi cosplay is gre-”

DING!

The elevator doors open to a seemingly normal, barren hallway - not a hair or person out of place - though, you knew better. And as much of a fool as Gojo acted, he did, too. 

His steady arm drops from your side when you stretch out your limbs in preparation - shit, you forgot it was still there. “Watch and learn, Gojo.” you hum.

“Hell yeah, I’m watching.” 

A beat of silence. Two. 

With his thick blindfold, Gojo’s expression was almost indescribable - but your skin prickles with the slow, sultry sweep of his eyes down your figure. But before you can snap back at his loaded tone, it happens- “Don’t fall behind, sweetheart.”

Curses burst out of the fourteen heavy, wooden doors along the narrow corridor - some small, some big, all crushed easily under the power of your cursed technique. And neither of you had to utter a word to know you’d both be trying to best the other. 

You’ve got one slobbering mess of a curse trapped underneath your heel, locked in combat when Gojo calls out from somewhere across the hallway. “Still stuck on that grade one?” Your jaw ticks, pressing the curses face deeper into the carpeted floor of the bedroom, “I’ve already located one of two special grades- better keep up.”

Fuck, curse him and his six eyes. 

Not wasting any more time, you easily exorcize the remaining curse, feet carrying you door after door. Most of the infestation had been cleared out by now by the both of you, splatters of red and limbs lining along the hallway - you only felt bad for Ichiji having to organize a clean-up after this. 

The next time you saw Gojo’s flash of cerulean eyes was from outside another bedroom. Goading, “Heh, need a little help, Gojo?” 

“Oh fuck-” he wraps two arms around the special grade’s flowered horns. Powerful legs bowed, cloudy hair mussed, blindfold dangling somewhere around his neck - he was beautiful. And it was fleeting moments like this that you held an ounce of begrudging respect for him. Ripping those offending appendages, “-off. Roughed up the other special grade for ya since you were so slow, sweetheart - consider it a lil’ gift for this date.”

“Oh, fuck you-”

In the midst of it all, Gojo still manages to flutter his long lashes your way, “Well, we are in a love hotel, after all. Just say so if you wanna get those pretty hands on me.”

“I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last person on Earth, Gojo Satoru.”

His loud bout of laughter follows you to the final hotel room - 143, coincidentally. It was decadent, almost-spotless - had it not been for the towering curse hunched over in the middle. You could tell that Gojo had been here, because its pink, scale-like skin was already bruised.

You slam the door shut behind you, better to keep the property damage to a minimum. Hastily getting into action - it wasn’t anything new, after years of exorcizing curses you’d grown used to predicting their pattern of attack. But it was only after a pressurized, finalizing punch of yours lands right on the curse’s thumping neck that you find yourself growing weary. Cautious of the tiny, red flower that’d sprouted out of thin air on its skin. Immediately, you think back to Hanami, because it was blossoming - unnaturally fast - petals unraveling to explode in sparkly pollen-

Shit. Your head whirled, eyes watery at the heady scent, “Wh-what the fuck-”

It takes only that split-second of distraction before more blooms pop! pop! pop! all down the curse’s figure. It just heaves with fatigue when they all burst out the same powdery substance from before.

“Fuck- what is this-” your thighs clench together, teeth clenched so hard it hurt. You stagger back towards your opponent, and it seems this last-ditch Hail Mary caused more damage than good. Because the curse was lethargic, barely even flinching when you’re back to pummelling it with your cursed technique. Again. And again and again-  “-if only you’d taken to making perfumes- instead-”

It falls to the ground with a last ringing screech, the flowers withering away instantly. 

But the damage was done.

And you’d never felt so drained - even after your most difficult of missions. Never sinking down onto your knees this way, skin heated, mouth salivating. The air in the room was just thick with something so delicious - syrupy, with hints of pine and cherry - traitorously, you find yourself inhaling deep, addictive lungfuls of the scent. 

“Smells so-” your brows furrow, digging a hand into the plush bed beside you to clamor back onto your feet. “Smells like-”

Gojo. 

Your entire body jolts with something so dark - visceral, gasping when you feel your underwear just drench. Mind such a melty mess filled with only Gojo Gojo Gojo - and before you know it, you’re stumbling towards the door-

Bang! 

The aroma only grows heavier near the door, blood thunders in your ear at the deafening crash from outside. Shit, had you locked the door- 

Bang! Bang! BANG-

Fuck, neither of you were making it out alive. 

It’s the first clear thought headlining through your mind for the first time in what feels like ages - only several, syrupy-slow seconds later does it follow up with the realization that you’re now standing face-to-face with Gojo. 

Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru.

Who looked absolutely crazed right now - teetering unsteadily on his feet, his head was bowed, fingers trembling. The mahogany hotel door in mere splinters under his hands.

“F-forgot you could teleport?” It comes out a yelp - pained, almost - and the very first note of your strained voice is enough to have his entire, powerful body wracking with a gasp. Goosebumps pricking along his milky skin, he finally - finally raises his eyes.

Shit, he’s finally lost it.

Because Gojo’s gaze was burning, lids hooded, dark pupils blown so wide that his eyes looked almost black. He didn’t look at you with that usual teasing glint, no, he looked like he was going to rip you apart. Twitchy, drinking in a shaky, drawn-out gasp of the scented air. You almost had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade masked as your coworker. 

But it’s real - it’s so, so real and you can’t deny it when he’s baring you with such a vicious grin. Plump lips pulled back to show off those glinting canines, “You.”

“Satoru.”

His lips are on yours - pressing and pressing so hard you were sure it bruised. But fuck- you’re kissing back - because how could you not? The candied seam of his mouth was addictive, breathing you in like his last breath of fresh air.  

“Kiss me-” he spits into your slack mouth, as if he wasn’t already. Two hands surging forwards to cup your cheeks even deeper, “Kiss me kiss me kiss- fuck-” That last little swear almost comes out as a whimper, and you can only keen when Gojo wraps his pretty lips around your tongue, sucking lewdly. “Y’smell so sweet- taste so sweet-”

“Sa-t-toru-” you’re managing out. It just then hits you how weak your knees have gotten, sinking down to straddle his muscular, jutted-out thigh. It makes him throw his head back when you’re just dragging your hips in a long, languid stripe. “Look what you’ve- what you’ve gotten us into.”

Pulling away to lick lazily up, up, up your neck, his teeth bite just at your thundering pulse. “Me?” he hisses out, voice a few octaves higher than usual. “You think I’m the one fuckin’ responsible for this?” It almost hurt - but it hurt so good. “I’m responsible for this-” And his startling eyes sink down to the darkening wet patch on the middle of his leg, your flimsy panties sticking to his uniform. “-am, I?”

“Yes.” your defiant fingers are trailing down the hem of his shirt, ripping apart those buttons in hasty, urgent tugs until it was off completely. “If only you hadn’t half-assed it with this special grade then-”

Gojo huffs out in humorless laughter into your lips - the same one he’d give a persistent little curse, and it makes your hairs stand on end. Wondering how high the kill count would really be. In the hundreds? Thousands? “I thought you were supposed to be the babysitter, huh?”

Millions. 

“And aren’t you the strongest?” A trembly hand of yours ventures its way down his flexing body - down, past those plush pecs, past his flinching abs, dipping teasingly just above where you could feel the hiking tent in his tight pants. “How did you end up this hah- bad?”

You’re holding back a groan at the long, solid inches straining to break free of his thick fabric, you could feel the rapid thump! thump! thump! of his throbbing length under your palm. Fuck, water was wet - Gojo Satoru, unfortunately, had a big di-

“You.”

It’s low, ragged - so quiet that for a second you think you almost imagine it. 

“You.”

His lips are sagging open once more, greedy gaze widening - and you knew it was glowing now. Tiny flickers of blue lightning flickering at the ends of his eyes with every mindless gyration of your palm down his bulging, clothed shaft.

“It’s all because of you.” 

Yeah, you would be lucky number one on his kill count when he breaks - or maybe he would be on yours

Your back is hitting the mattress, and the buttons of your poor uniform are hitting the velvety floor - absolutely nothing against the strongest, who was now tearing through your clothes the same way he was ripping apart those curses from before.

Shit- did he teleport you two?

“Don’t know-” Gojo pants out feverishly, and at that moment you weren’t sure if you’d simply babbled your thinking out loud or whether he could read your mind. “Don’t- don’t know- fuuck.” Low, feral groans crack at the back of his throat with each inch of your exposed skin, and before you know it, he’s surging forwards into the naked valley of your breasts. Breathing you in so filthily, “Just know that I need you- fuck m’gonna fuckin’ kill someone if I don’t-” 

Each spat out little word is punctuated with an intoxicated push and pull of Gojo’s hips. Angrily rutting in-between your thighs until it was just a clingy, syrupy mess of slick and precum between you two. 

“Oh-” your lips drop into a soft gasp, reaching out your fingers to smear a sinful sheen down them. It glosses all the way to your wrist with each newly beaded wave of his precum. 

It feels so dirty the way you’re pushing the very tips of your fingers into your mouth. Gojo can only look - can barely even breathe when you slur, “You taste so good, too, Toru.”

Oh, that was it.

Gojo Satoru had finally thought he was getting control of his sanity - he finally thought the effects of that cursed technique were wearing off. But now - at that little nickname - he feels something snap. The lamp on your right bedside table shatters.

And usually, Gojo’s taunting was tinted with a little laugh, an inkling of fondness in them - but right now they sounded pained. Wrenching out of his broad chest, “Fuck you. Need you- do you know what you’ve done.”

Your useless skirt - along with your soaked, see-through panties - are ripped off of your squirming body. And for once in his life, he’s speechless - eyes almost bulging out of his skull, nails digging into the plush of your thighs. 

Your clothes end up in a pile of sad tatters on the floor, and you felt a strange inkling that maybe you’d end up much the same. 

Smack!

Two, large fingers slap down harshly right on your drooling cunt, slobbering down a glistening coat of your pretty juices down his wrist. “Pay attention.” He’s pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your neglected nipples, your stomach, down, down, down in a flurry until the very tip of Gojo’s nose was nudging at your pulsing clit. “Because if m’losing control I need you to stop me.”

The dim hotel lights flicker when Gojo meets your cunt in a sultry, self-indulgent kiss. And through it all, one thing burns into your dizzy mind - his eyes. Maddened, gleaming with slight blue cursed energy in-between your legs. 

“Oh.” you’re gasping at the sheer burning stretch of your thighs being pushed to their limits. Gojo didn’t need that much space - he just loved the way you whined. “You’re s-so much better when you shut- hah!”

His tongue shuts you up by flicking harshly over your puffed-up clit, letting your syrupy juices slide their slow way down his eager tongue. “There we go- good girl, good fuckin’ girl. Hah- all it took was some shitty curse to get you hah- honest like this f’me, huh?” 

“Don’t act like- ngh!” you’re barely able to drawl the words out, which makes him grin a dangerously content grin. Sharp teeth clenching teasingly around your angry clit, throbbing and slicked glisteningly with his spit, “Don’t act like I’m the only one- this way- hah-”

It was true - every hollowed-out suck on your needy clit had him grinding onto the mussed-up mattress. Those silken sheets hiking up with every drag of Gojo’s weepy erection down onto the bed - imagining you underneath him. It wasn’t enough - it never will be. 

That realization was enough for him to break out into a drunken grin, hot tongue smearing open your folds over and over- “Yeah? What about it? Does it scare you that I want to fuckin’ break you, sweetheart?”

He was crazed. 

Dangerous. Depraved. 

“N-no-” you give such a harsh pull on his soft strands, he’s leering up at you with a dragged-out groan. Looking for the life of him so used - you just knew there’d be thousands that would kill to see the strongest so fucked-out, ear blearily blinking open, flushed your favorite shade of pink up to his cheekbones, mouth chasing those thin spit strands to your glossy pussy. “Jus’ think s’unfair how I’m the ah- only one havin’ fun right now.”

You’re shutting up his pussydrunk protests about how he is having fun and to “please, please, please don’t stop” by crashing your soft lips against Gojo’s. Wrenching him upwards, he lets himself be so used. 

“Need you-” you’re gasping, biting into his pouty lower lip. Nosing slowly up his bobbing Adam’s apple, you gasp in that heady combination of pine and candied cherry. “Wanna see if you hngh- taste as good as you smell right now.”

“No fuck- fuck you.” he hisses, wrangling you to straddle his angrily fidgeting hips. 

Running a hand down to fumble with his metallic belt - already loosened. But you don’t have the patience - or the sanity - for that right now, because you’re tugging, shredding. The tell-tale buzz of jujutsu fizzing at your fingertips when you tug down the entirety of Gojo’s pants. Kneading the soft peaks of your palm over that sensitive divot on his head, “Who’s fucking who?” 

“Me.” And there’s another smack! to the heated place of your cunt, Gojo’s own fingertips having you see stars with his power. 

He takes the distraction to just drag you upwards like some ragdoll, easily maneuvering you around. “Turn- turn around f’me- thaaat’s right, fuck-” You’re jostled until your shaky thighs straddle either side of his head, puffed-out pants condensing hotly against your cunt. Your own coming face-to-face with the fat head peeking out from the hem of Gojo’s boxers. Head swimming with how angrily pink he looked, already winking with a drenched sheen of precum up at you. “Arch that cute back a lil’ more- lemme see.”

You’re whirling your head over your shoulders to catch the fucked-out grin on his lips, dragging his tongue out to lap up every bead of your sweet sweet juices, he tilts his pliant head back against the pillows to let it slide down his bobbing throat. “Y-you’re really that pussydr- hngh!” 

Another branding smack! leaves you gushing even more down his tongue. “Yeah, s’what I fuckin’ thought.” he spits out a thick wad of spit into your messy cunt. Gliding his wet fingers over the dripping mess that puddles onto the his chest below. “-can’t even run your mouth- so desperate f’me. Taste so good-” Using his inhuman strength to haul you down onto his pretty face.

Before he knows it, he’s slotting the thin tip of his tongue past your quivering hole. Taking him so greedily, the elastic ring of muscle stretches all around his form, clamping down as if to milk something delicious. 

And Gojo knows - he thinks with whatever’s left of his rationality that maybe he should slow down, take a second to fuckin’ breathe. But, no, he’s making out with your ravaged pussy like he’s angry he hasn’t done this before - way back when he first met you.

A slender fingers pushes past your swollen folds to curl deftly into your gummy cunt, molding up into that easy divots at your walls. He’s feeling around so depravedly for your g-spot, aching to make you feel just a drop of the sheer need he does. 

“Fuck!” Your velvety walls come crashing down around his fingers, knuckle-deep inside your ravenously swallowing cunt. Only getting faster - dipping perfectly to press up against your spongy sweet spots. Shit, he really was good at everything, huh? “You’re so…”

“What was that?” Gojo’s tittering, “Can’t hear you over your cute cunt, sweetheart.”

You don’t answer - you don’t need to, because all the breath in his lungs exhale out in a low cascade. Hiccuping around your candied clit when you take Gojo’s thick, weepy tip just past your lips. Wrapping just around the sensitive slit, it makes him gasp, it makes him keen, it makes him spit out some sloppy swears into your cunt.

“What was that? Can’t hear you over my cunt, Toru–” you bat your lashes, humming around his velvety head. Fuck- if you were in any better state of mind you’d have taken longer admiring him.

Because he was so massive, so pretty with prominent veins thumping at the roof of your mouth. Girthy, rotund end a throbbing red, gradiating into a creamy pink that meshed in delicately with those neat tufts of white at Gojo’s toned pelvis. So delicious. Big enough that you were already wondering just how you were going to walk out of this bedroom - if either of you are in a walking state - or even alive - that is. 

“Fuck- fuck you little-” his mouth refuses to part with your puffy pussy lips, even if it was to talk back to you. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ think this is-”

The new angle has his sharp jaw grinding up into you, jostling your body up and down all over his face. He’s whining - heaving - at this point with every sultry swirl of your soft tongue around his twitchy head. Coating down every inch of your silky soft mouth with a hot sheen of precum, he tastes so good on your tastebuds - slightly salty, with a tinge of something so sweetly Gojo. 

Powers acting before him, he doesn’t even realize it before he cheats - just a little. Eyes burning with power when Gojo uses his six eyes to plunge scarily accurately into the plushy bullseye of your g-spot. Greedy fingers hitting it again and again and-

“Satoru!” your scolding tone has his globular tip twitch ferally into the back of your throat. “That’s not- I can feel your jujutsu, y’know. S-so-” 

“What? Good? Heavenly?” Gojo rattles off. You’re fucking your drooling pussy back into him - you can’t stop the mindless, shallow little grinds in an attempt to meet his mean pace. “Never said anythin’ about a jujutsu ban, pretty- you’re sounding like a sore loser to me.” As if on cue, your cunt is gushing out in more silken sweet juices all down the lower half of his face, squelching so obscenely. His droopy eyes admire your glistening cunt, riding his face to his insanity. “Well- not this cunt, of course, in fact- I think she’s gonna cum.”

He didn’t have to tell you - you already knew, with the trembling in your thighs, and the white-hot pleasure stemming from his incessant making out. Without answering, you only swallow up a few more solid, rock-hard inches of his painfully hard cock, lips stretched obscenely. 

“Y-yeah- fuck, now I definitely know you’re close, pretty girl-” he’s lolling out his tongue to let you drag your pussy across harshly. “Don’t be stubborn- cum f’me,” Rough patches of his tastebuds massaging you just right, fingers still pumping recklessly. “Cum f’me- please. Wan’ it on my tongue- want you- want you to use me- please.”

It doesn’t take long before you’re finally cumming, fucking your high over and over Gojo Satoru’s pretty face. He’s wrapping a free hand around the small of your back, just crashing you back into his drunk mouth over and over and–

“F-fuck, Toru–” you whine, toes curling with each crashing wave of pleasure. It was so violent - so dragged-out, like no orgasm you’ve had before. And you didn’t know whether it was because of the technique or the lazy drag of Gojo’s mouth all over every beading inch of your pussy. Your fist tightens around the thick, heated base of his cock, “Need- need you to-”

“No. Fuck-”

In the fleeting millisecond it takes you to blink, your front is being pushed back onto the now-damp sheets again, a grinning Gojo hovering over you. He looked so ruined - smile gleaming with your trickling, dripping precum, eyes crazed. Suddenly, you almost understand why every breathing thing fears him - almost. His eyes were blazing, flushed angrily. “I’m burning- think m’gonna die if I don’t fuck this cunt right now. Fuck-”

“Havin’ to use your powers for everything?” you’re quirking a brow over your shoulder. “Don’t tell me the only reason you brag about being so hah- good in bed is because of that?”

He’s narrowing his glowing eyes, tiny sparks of lightning flying furiously, “Ohhh s’that a challenge, sweetheart?” Gojo’s sharp canines tug on your bottom lip, and you moan into the messy clash of a kiss - all spit and teeth and the taste of you two. “Tell me.”

“So what if it is?” you’re managing to push back against his slender waist. “Without those stupid powers, m’the better…”

Whatever insult was on the tip of our tongue dies down at the glint of the foil in his hand - the condom from before. That tiny square looking so pitiful held between two fingers, “The receptionist gave me an XL, funny, right?” Gojo murmurs, so dark. “Such a shame it won’t fit.”

One daring glance downwards proves him right - because Gojo was sitting so heftily sandwiched between your swollen folds. Painfully beading needy pearls of translucent precum all over your front - fuck, your cockdrunk self from before didn’t recall him being so large. Big enough that you were sure any rubber would be on the verge of shattering into little pieces.

So then go in raw- you think. But before the words can tumble out of your mind, he’s giving a slow, slippery slide on your cunt, “S’alright- with these ah- ‘stupid powers’ m’still gonna get a taste of this pretty cunt.”

And then you can’t breathe - fuck, you can’t even think straight.

You feel like you’re being split-apart, because Gojo’s just barely pushing in the fat, round girth of his head. Managing to pop in his long shaft past that sensitive slit, before his body starts moving in hurried, impatient little grinds. Frantically trying to squeeze himself in deeper- “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck, even with limitless you feel so good, sweetheart.”

Limitless - fuck, that’s what it was. You could feel the slight pinch of the pressure around your body, the way he was reaching in so deep inside your velvety cunt despite not even being halfway inside yet. 

“Satoru-” 

“No-” his flickering eyes bore deep into yours. “Not that- call out f’me properly now, I know that smart mouth of yours can do it.”

Your words are barely a whisper, “Toru–”

The remaining lamp at your left goes out - cracking into tiny shards. And that’s all it takes for him to push and push in, distantly, Gojo knows he should slow down, maybe give you a second to relax - to think. But he could feel his sanity dancing away with every fucking inch fed into your sopping wet pussy, your elastic walls contorting to massage every ridge and vein of his so heavenly. Fuck- he’d fight a thousand more of those special grades just for another taste of this feeling. 

“Oh-” Gojo’s jaw hangs slack when he finally bullies past that feeble resistance of yours. The very top curve of his head nudging deeply in a glissading glide down your spongy cervix, heavy balls kissing against your ass. 

He lets himself be pulled, used like some filthy toy when your hot tongue cranes to lap up the trail of drool down the corner of his drunken mouth. 

“Wanna feel you-” you’re gasping through each thorough, steady ram into your snug channel. “Wanna feel all of you.”

Another memorable slap! resounds through the heady air, sending sparks exploding behind your lids. “Heh- s’this your way of hah- having me stop using my powers?” he chuckles. “I’m onto your dirty, dirty tricks, y’know.”

Truly, he wasn’t. Gojo didn’t think he had enough of his brain unfried to even contemplate that right about now. But it was just so much fun to watch you mewl in protest, your cunt dripping even further down his twitchy balls with each taunt. 

“Please- fuck m’burning up-” you spit. “Scared s’gonna have you c-cumming early?”

As a punishment - or maybe a little reminder about who really was the strongest, Gojo infuses his next sharp smack on your clit with an ounce of his jujutsu. The curve of his thumb gliding over in tiny circles to soothe over the buzz, “Talk to me when you can say “cumming” without hngh- stutterin’-”

“Talk to me when you-” Growling into the crook of your neck, it’s all he can do right now to bow his hulking body even deeper into yours, kneeing apart your stutteringly closing thighs. There’s a sloppy, milky ring forming where your folds kept smacking repeatedly against the sharp lines of his pelvis, “-can fuck me without your limitless going haywire.”

Fuck- fuck, how he wanted to prove you wrong. To have you crying out for mercy.

But Gojo’s throat drags out in what almost sounds like a cry when his limitless flickers on and off - just for a second. The mere touch of your slippery soft walls around his hot cock making him just slam down an arm on the headrest. It breaks - shattering into tiny wooden pieces, though, neither of you notice right now. 

He’s maneuvering the two of you so easily to push you onto your back. Stuffing your gaping entrance back full again, this time throwing your limp legs onto his broad shoulders to pummel you in such a mean mating press. Just the sight of your fucked-out, pretty face has his ragged breath hitching, “S-sweetheart…” 

Whatever answer you give is tangled up in Gojo’s drunken tongue, lapping at your words. His cock feels so heavy, so hot shoving between your legs. And the stretch - fuck, the stretch was something you’d always remember. Stretching out that tight hole into the very girth of his shaft - all the way down from his leaky, flinching head to the thick circumference of his hilt. “I don’t think I can- fuck, can I feel- please, m’dying to know what this cunt feels like-”

Your nails rake down the pale display of his back, those red, red jagged lines making him rut even deeper into you. “Do it then-”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Oh.

Fuck. 

It’s like something shatters - maybe limitless, maybe his restraint. Because Gojo’s eyes just fall shut in pure ecstasy, aching cock growing even larger inside you - as if that was even possible. Expanding tautly at your walls, he’s forming you so sinfully around his shape. 

“Oh-oh– fuck you feel- how the fuck do you feel so good?” His free hand dips down to roll a depraved thumb over the nub of your neglected clit, catching on your bulgingly-stretched folds. “Holy shit- think m’gonna pass out- think m’gonna die.”

“Hah-” your back arches up sluttily into his around the fifth consecutive time his rough cockhead was grazing so perfectly against your g-spot, fingers buzzing with electricity at your clit. “You’re s-so weak-”

But it didn’t matter, did it? Because all you could do was hiss out a few wet gurgles into Gojo’s mouth, blinking in the sinful sight of him with his eyes so hooded, cheeks burning with a scorching blush, mouth dangling so addictively open while he sucked your tongue. Like he didn’t even realize what he was doing - how each pressurized thrust into your gummy pussy had the lights overhead flickering, sparks of blue lightning bolting from the corners of his mouth at the same sloppy staccato as his hips. How it made you cum. 

“Sh-shit, Toru-” you’re gasping at the feeling of your toe-curling high, shots of pure pleasure running through your body. Convulsing up over and over into his weighty body, “Feels so good- m’cumming m’cumming ah-” 

Crack! 

And then it’s dark.

Hell, Gojo barely even realized when he does, too, shooting out creamy white ribbon after ribbon of seed with a soft, shuddering gasp of your name. And it’s the only thing on his usually-sharp tongue - voice cracking pathetically, when he whines it like a little mantra over and over and-

“Oh-” his five, long fingers splay out across your lower stomach - right where he could feel his own cock twitching wildly at the very bottom of your gooey pussy. Pressing down, hard. “Oh shit- just look at how you’re painted white from the inside-”

The lights were gone out - in all the wards of Tokyo, actually - and yet in the light of the slight flickers of electricity surrounding you two, you could spy the slow, syrupy glob of his cum down your thighs. Coating his hilt in a milky gloss, it sticks to the two of you like a sloppy second skin. “And you expect me to- hah- not go insane.”

You manage out a wet chuckle, too tired to notice how the bed was missing a headboard now. How all the furniture in the hotel room was trashed - as if it’d been slammed down from several feet above. “Hah- b-blame it on the sex pollen.”

The technique has him cumming more than usual, every new wave sloshing at your insides is followed by another - and another until Gojo’s cock felt so raw. Twitching sensitively in a way that brought big fat tears pricking at his eyes, and yet, he still fucks you so harshly into the mattress. Sucking out every remaining dredge of seed in those fat, cum-filled balls thwacking! at your skin. Sloppy. Depraved. Oh, he looked so ruined - like a man that crawled back from death, only to drag you down with him. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Gojo drags his swollen lips down your earlobe. Voice shot, “I don’t think the sex pollen is done yet.”

---

“Trashed all across the floor, trashed furniture - especially in room 143 - Hokkaido still doesn’t even have power.” Yaga’s bellowing voice has you sinking ashamedly further and further into his office seat. 

Gojo, however, only beams, throwing an arm around the edge of your chair, “Damn- we should really try to send out the power in all of Asia next time, huh, my pretty girl?”

“Out!”

Across the hallway, three first-years eagerly (well, two of them and a reluctant Megumi) peer into the tense meeting. Wondering what exactly happened in your last mission that caused a record-level amount of property damage and the power to still flicker on and off throughout the day.

Yuji is the first one to speak up, “Well, no one’s dead but- why does the air seem so-” he gestures towards the almost non-existent space between you and Gojo - not anything out of the usual, sure, but the one thing different was the lack of threats. “-weird.” he finishes. 

“Tell me about it. That Gojo almost seems…” Nobara shudders in disgust. “...happy.”

And of course, at that very moment, the man of the hour himself turns to look straight at the first-years doing a poor job of hiding themselves behind the door. Sighing overly-loudly, “If you say so, Yaga~” Intertwining his fingers with yours to pull you up with him, “We had a date anyway.”

“A date?”

“A date?!”

“I win.” All eyes - including yours and Gojo’s turn towards the usually-quiet Megumi, his lips turned into the beginnings of a smile. Almost. “You both owe me ten thousand yen.”

A/N. Hope you babygirls have a good weekkkk!!!

Plagiarism not authorized.

[norikuna]

MAMA, A DIVA BEHIND YOU! — toji fushiguro sfw!

prologue. → toji loves his son, he really does. unfortunately, young megumi is less than receptive when it comes to toji's efforts to impress the pretty neighbour who just moved into the apartment down the hall.

or five times megumi actively made toji's love life worse. and the one time he actually helped.

pairing. toji fushiguro x afab!reader

warnings. megumi is his own warning. mild age gap implied. non sorcerer au, toji is raising megumi on his own. reader has she/her pronouns. nothing else, just shenanigans :) toji gets knocked down a few pegs by his son 😭 mildly ooc toji <3

word count. song inspiration. paper rings — taylor swift

a/n. this is sooo silly and for fun lol 😭 i feel like you can tell this just isn't my genre or writing style 😭

mp3. i like shiny things, but i'd marry you with paper rings <3

TOJI FUSHIGURO didn't have a lot of treasures in life. he just wasn't that type of guy. treasures were for people with their lives together — the kind who budgeted for organic vegetables and owned matching socks. toji's list of prized possessions was short: a semi-reliable pay check, a fridge that kept his beer cold on a good day, and the one channel that aired late-night baseball games.

oh, and his kid. megumi fushiguro.

the little brat was the one thing in toji's life he could call a blessing without choking on the word. but lately? toji was seriously considering the logistics of international shipping. could you send a five year old punk to siberia? where was the paperwork for that?

everything had been fine. hell, downright manageable. until you moved in down the hall.

at first, toji didn't give a fuck. neighbours were usually either noisy or nosy, and sometimes the tragic combination of both. the last guy had banged on his door at least once a week, yelling about toji's late-night weightlifting sessions and muttering something about 'quiet hours.'

toji had pegged you for the same. maybe with a yoga met and too many scented candles.

but then, you showed up on his doorstep with a kind smile that could probably light up half the districts in the city. and a polite, sweet, "excuse me, but could you help me with my bed frame?"

and that was it.

the universe must've been real bored, because that was the moment it decided that toji fushiguro — self proclaimed expert on not giving a damn, was going to lose his damn mind like cupid has struck him with the painful arrows of a crush. and he was a goner.

take #1 — my neck, my back

spring in tokyo had come into full bloom, the kind of day where the air smelled faintly of sunshine, and the cherry blossoms drifted around like lazy, little freeloaders. below the apartment complex, the park wasn't much to write home about — a scrappy patch of grass, a couple of benches that looked like they'd seen some shit, and a swing set that squeaked like it had a vendetta against joy.

but for toji? it was good enough.

he'd figured this 'let me show you around because i'm so friendly' outing would be low effort. easy. casual and neighbourly, even. except now, he was leaning against a tree which was far harder than it sounded when his lower back was screaming at him louder than megumi had this morning about brushing his teeth.

but you stood nearby, smiling that damn warm and disarming smile of yours, gently plucking a stray blossom from megumi's messy hair. the kid, for his part, was pointedly ignoring you both, kicking rocks with the type of dedication usually reserved for a brat trying to avoid his homework.

toji cleared his throat, "so, uh, the area's not bad. quiet most of the time. that convenience store over there's open late. great for snacks. or milk. y'know, the owner's a bit of a bitc —"

"why are you standing like that?"

megumi's voice cut through his rehearsed tour like a rusty knife.

toji shot him a sharp glance. a look that screamed: keep your mouth shut, kid.

megumi just tilted his head, all faux innocence, and then delivered the killing blow with those sea-green eyes gleaming in what toji was certain was pure maliciousness, "dad, your back hurts again, doesn’t it?"

toji froze, scrambling for damage control, but you were already pressing your lips together, trying not to laugh. trying. but he could see the corners of your mouth twitching.

"back's fine," toji huffed, straightening up too fast. something in his spine must have popped loud enough to startle a crow off a branch, "solid a rock, hah! good as new."

megumi glanced at his scuffed sneakers, and then back up, "you said it was hard getting off the couch this morning. didn't you say you're old now and falling apart?"

toji's entire soul left his body. the punk was a traitor to a family name. he should have just sent megumi back to the clan long ago.

"don't you have a rock to kick?" he hissed.

"already did all that."

and that was it. your laugh finally burst out, bright and loud, ringing through the little patch of a park. toji found himself staring at you like some idiot in a rom-com who’d just realised he was completely doomed.

"kids, huh?" he muttered, throwing megumi a glare that promised revenge.

"kids," you agreed, eyes still sparkling as you excused yourself, something about leaving a pot on the stove. you gave toji one last look as you turned to go, warm and soft with that lingering amusement.

toji leaned back against the tree once you were gone, letting out a long sigh. megumi was still standing there, kicking the same patch of dirt, as though he were trying to discover unseen archaeological wonders underneath the earth.

"you're lucky i don’t sell you to a circus," toji grumbled under his breath.

megumi didn’t even look up, "you wouldn’t get that much for me."

smart-ass kid.

take #2 — the liar's pants are blazing on fire

walking someone home shouldn't have felt like scaling mount fuji, but toji fushiguro was now sweating bullet. the evening was crisp, the air cool enough to keep him from outright drowning in these stupid nerves, but it helped little.

the streetlights flickered on one by one, casting a faint yellow glow over the neighbourhood. nothing fancy — just rows of small apartments with laundry dangling off balconies and the occasional stray cat darting under parked car. it wasn't exactly romantic, but in the soft glow of the spring, it didn't look that bad.

you walked besides him, laughing at some half-assed joke he'd cracked earlier. and damn, toji liked that sound. more than he should've. more than he'd admit to anyone, including himself. now though, the silence had crept back in, and he was left psyching himself up for the move.

just hold her hand, his brain hissed, it's not rocket science. come on, man. no! wait, give her a compliment, call her hot. ugh, idiot. don't say that yet -

his thick fingers flexed awkwardly at this side as he tried to look natural. a valiant losing battle when every nerve in his body screamed, you have one job, fushiguro. don't ruin this.

"dad!"

toji's head snapped up like a startled animal, and there he was. megumi. his kid. his little shadow. gasping, clutching his throat, and staggering toward them like a samurai dying in glorious battle.

"dad! i — i can't breathe!" megumi wheezed, voice raspy as he doubled over in dramatic agony.

toji blinked. what the —

"i think i'm dying!" megumi croaked, collapsing onto the sidewalk with all the subtlety of a boulder tumbling down a hill.

toji sighed, already pinching the bridge of his nose. should’ve known. thid kid had been hanging around that white-haired freak downstairs too much. what had that gojo satoru been teaching him? shakespearean death monologues?

"what is it this time?" toji asked flatly, his voice like gravel.

"maybe, maybe it's the peanuts!" megumi sputtered, clutching his chest now, because why not? "the ones i ate at home! i think i'm allergic!"

toji stared at him, unimpressed. this was the same kid who could inhale salted peanuts by the handful, barely pausing for air, like he was training for some bizarre snack-eating championship.

"you're not allergic," toji deadpanned.

"i think i am!" megumi wheezed, dropping to his knees, his little hands shaking dramatically.

"oh my god!" you gasped, wide-eyed. "should we — i mean, do we need to take him to the hospital? i can drive —"

toji waved a rough hand, trying to salvage what little dignity he had left, "nah, kid’s fine. just go on home. i'll handle this."

"but —"

"it's fine," toji insisted, forcing what he hoped was a reassuring smile, even as megumi collapsed onto the pavement like he’d been struck by lightning.

you had hesitated, clearly torn, but eventually nodded, "okay… but call me if you need anything, okay?"

toji nodded, biting back the heat threatening to crawl up his neck. "yeah, yeah. go on."

the second you turned the corner, toji crouched next to his "dying" son, who immediately cracked one eye open and coughed weakly for good measure.

"what the hell was that?" toji grunted, "what did i say about huffing gasoline in the laundry?"

"don't do it."

toji flicked the punk's forehead, "mhm, so?"

megumi shrugged, sitting up and dusting off his pants. "thought i was allergic."

"to peanuts? that shit you eat everyday?"

"better safe than sorry, dad."

toji huffed, ruffling a hand through his choppy black hair. he glanced in the direction you’d gone, muttering under his breath, "you're lucky you’re cute, kid."

the next morning, toji opened his door to find a basket sitting on the mat. a pristine, gingham-lined basket packed with golden, buttery pastries and muffins that smelled like heaven. attached was a note:

for megumi! i hope he’s feeling better!

karmic justice demanded that toji sit down, scarf it entirely, and leave nothing but crumbs for the little brat. he'd earned that much.

take #3 — they didn't get my nose right!

toji fushiguro didn’t get flustered easily. fights? He could eat a punch for breakfast. bills? well, avoidance was a valid financial strategy. but you, sitting on his couch, smiling at him like you’d never met a red flag you didn’t want to rehabilitate, while unpacking groceries for him and megumi? that was uncharted territory.

terrifying.

the apartment was...presentable. which was more than he could say ten minutes before you arrived, when he'd barked at megumi like a drill sergeant to hide every suspicious stain and questionable stack of dishes. now, the faint sting of cleaning spray lingered in the air, and the tiny place almost looked cozy. not that toji would admit it.

"you didn’t have to bring anything," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"oh, it's no trouble!" you chirped, beaming like some kind of saint. "i thought you and megumi might like some fresh vegetables. and i couldn’t resist grabbing some sweets for him."

from the corner of the room, megumi's ears perked up at sweets. he dropped the crayon he’d been chewing (toji pretended not to see it) and padded over, all innocent wide eyes and suspiciously good behaviour.

"dad," megumi started, his tone way too angelic for a kid who regularly schemed like a demonic manga villain, “can i show her my drawing?"

toji utterly froze.

megumi never asked to show off his drawings. usually, he just thrust them into unsuspecting hands like a nosy salesman who couldn't take no for an answer. this? this was premeditated.

"uh," toji grunted, squinting at the kid. "maybe later. she’s busy."

but you, bless your overly trusting heart, smiled and said, "oh, i'd love to see it! i'm sure it's adorable."

toji didn’t even have time to stop him. megumi whipped out a crumpled paper from his pocket like he was smuggling state secrets and handed it to you with an air of triumph.

you unfolded it carefully, and toji wanted to crawl into the walls.

there it was: a chaotic, technicolor mess of lines and smudges.

and centre stage?

a terrifyingly accurate caricature of him labeled "dad," locked in what could only be described as a life-or-death struggle with a rabid raccoon twice his size. above his head, a speech bubble screamed, "no!" while the raccoon yelled back, "mine!"

toji groaned so loud it could’ve registered on the richter scale, "kid. seriously?"

your laughter was instant and loud, the kind that made you clutch your sides and tear up. "this — oh my god, this is amazing!" you wheezed, doubling over.

"it’s not even accurate," toji muttered, crossing his arms, his biceps straining against his shirt like they were trying to leave this embarrassing moment behind. "i won."

"dad didn’t win," megumi piped up, as smug as a kid who’d just blown up his old man’s spot in front of a pretty lady, "the raccoon stole the chips."

"megumi," toji growled, pinning him with a glare that would’ve made lesser beings tremble. the kid just shrugged, popping another crayon into his mouth like this was all part of his five-year master plan.

later, after you’d left, still giggling and promising to "treasure" the drawing, toji leaned over the kitchen table where megumi was innocently snacking on his candy.

'kid," toji said, his voice low and dangerous, "if you ever pull something like that again, i’ll eat your crayons. one by one. and i'll make you watch."

megumi didn’t even flinch, cool as a cucumber, "good luck. i hid all the good ones."

take #4 — take your broke ass home!

the neighborhood festival was the kind of event that came together with duct tape and misplaced enthusiasm. a few janky game booths, a cotton candy machine that looked like it ran on prayers, and a ferris wheel that creaked like it was auditioning for a horror movie. but toji didn’t mind. he had a plan.

this was going to be his moment.

he invited you under the pretense of "fun time" for megumi, but really, it was to show you what a catch he was. buff, capable, ruggedly charming — he was ready to prove it all. what better way than with a little festival bravado? he’d win you a giant stuffed panda or one of those oversized bears that could double as a couch. easy.

you and megumi stood by a booth plastered with painted bullseyes, rows of rubber balls stacked neatly on the counter. toji rolled up his sleeves, flexing his arms just enough to catch your attention. he reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of crumpled cash like he was buying the entire festival, "watch this."

from beside him, megumi crossed his arms. his eyes squinted with the kind of judgment only an six-year-old could muster. then, like a sniper, he fired off the line that would ruin toji's day.

"careful, dad," megumi said, voice loud enough to turn a few heads. "that’s our grocery money for the week."

toji froze mid-reach for the first ball and his jaw clenched. slowly, painfully, he turned to face megumi, who was standing there with a look of angelic smugness.

"megumi," toji growled through gritted teeth, "let's remember who brought you here."

megumi didn’t miss a beat, "oh, right. i'm just worried that dinner tomorrow is soy sauce soup."

"kid’s got jokes," toji muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, his cocky energy now entirely replaced by something closer to "please make this stop."

"oh, i don’t think he’s joking," you teased, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from laughing too hard.

"yeah, definitely not joking," megumi deadpanned, "dad’s gonna start eating protein powder straight from the jar."

"megumi," toji barked, praying for divine intervention that would include his son being carried off by a stork, "you’re grounded."

"for what? telling the truth?"

before toji could escalate into full-on dad-mode, the game attendant — clearly desperate to avoid whatever domestic drama was brewing, handed toji a stuffed panda.

"here, sir, on the house," he said with a strained smile, like he was hoping toji wouldn’t throw a ball through the booth.

toji grabbed the panda and shoved it into your hands with all the grace of a man trying to save face, "here. told you i'd win ya something."

you had just hugged the panda, still grinning ear to ear, "who knew you had a sweet spot? i'll cherish it forever, especially after hearing how hard you worked for it."

megumi, the little bastard, had already wandered off to scope out the cotton candy stand.

toji watched him go, then glanced at you, feeling oddly resigned, "i’m never bringing him to one of these again."

"oh, come on," you said, nudging him playfully, "i'm glad we came. this was fun. besides, he's a sweet kid."

he wondered if you were half-blind, but held his tongue. instead toji groaned, rubbing his temples, 'kid’s not eating for a week."

take #5 — brought the heat back!

it was a quiet thursday evening, the kind of night that lured people into thinking life wasn’t a complete dumpster fire. the sky was fading into a smug sort of pink, and a light breeze was making it just nice enough to forget toji's apartment was a little too warm because he’d cheaped out on air conditioning.

you’d accepted his invitation for dinner, and now here he was, a grown man trying to pretend he wasn’t about to impress the hell out of you with his cooking.

see, toji wasn’t just some dude who could barely boil water. nah, this man knew his way around the kitchen — specifically around a bowl of spicy curry that could win hearts. but he couldn’t let you know that.

toji liked to think that he had a reputation to uphold: rough around the edges, dangerously hot, and way too casual about everything.

so when you walked in, he scratched the back of his head like he’d just thrown the recipe together from a vague memory, muttering, "i dunno, figured i'd try somethin’ new. if it’s bad, there’s takeout."

except this wasn’t new. toji knew exactly what he was doing. his curry was legendary in very specific circles — namely, his own ego.

meanwhile, megumi was hanging around the kitchen like a suspicious little gargoyle, all quiet and sneaky-eyed. that should’ve been the first warning sign.

and when dinner was served, toji had to admit it, it looked perfect. rich, golden curry with just the right balance of spice, heat curling off the plates like a victory lap. hah, an easy win.

you had taken a polite bite, smiling at first. until your face suddenly froze like you'd just been slapped by a fire demon.

"what, it's too spicy?" toji asked, as he watched you struggle to smile. your lips twitching like they were trying to run away.

"no, no!" you wheezed, "it's — it's really good. just got a lil' kick to it, that's all!"

kick? toji blinked. you looked as though you had been delivering a roundhouse to the face.

suspicious now, he scooped up a big bite himself. the moment it hit his tongue, he nearly choked. his sinuses exploded, his tongue went numb, and he could feel sweat instantly forming on his brow.

"what the fuck," he sputtered, slamming down his fork and lunging for his water. toji guzzled it like a man who’d just escaped a desert, while you valiantly kept nibbling as though your dignity depended on it.

megumi, sitting way too calmly at the table, didn’t even flinch. he was eating like the curry was perfectly fine, which made it even worse. this little freak.

toji squinted at his only child, "megumi. what did you do?"

"nothing," the kid said, wide-eyed and dripping with fake innocence. too fake, tsk, toji knew that look. "just...helped with the seasoning."

toji’s stomach dropped, as his blood pressure rose, "how much seasoning?"

megumi shrugged, stabbing at his rice like he wasn’t actively committing a felony, "i dunno. a lot. jus' wanted to be helpful, dad."

"y'trying to kill me? her? yourself?!"

you laughed nervously through the pain, "ah, toji. it’s really not that bad —"

"don’t lie, doll" toji snapped, shooting you a look, "sweatin' like you ran a marathon."

"so are you!" you shot back, snickering. and you weren’t wrong. toji's forehead looked like he’d just finished a full-body workout.

megumi leaned back in his chair, chewing slowly, and said with an infuriating amount of smugness, "i like spicy food."

toji pointed at him, wondering if it would be easier to pick up the kid and launch him out the window, "you better start liking ramen, ‘cause that’s all you’re eating for the next week."

"fine with that," megumi said, clearly unbothered, "isn't that what i eat all the time anyway?”

toji groaned, dragging a hand through his messy hair, which now stuck to his forehead in sweaty, choppy strands.hHe turned to you, desperate for some kind of redemption. "this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. it’s normally amazing. i swear."

"it’s fine," you laughed, even as you sipped water like your life depended on it. "honestly, i think it’s kinda cute."

that threw him for a loop. "cute? what’s cute about this? i just served you a bowl of liquid hell."

you grinned, a little too amused for his liking. "it’s the effort."

toji, for once in his life, had no comeback. he just sighed, defeated, and grabbed his phone to order takeout. megumi, meanwhile, looked entirely too pleased with himself, even lifting the bowl to his lips to smack away the remnants of the soup that he slurped.

interlude: the peace talks

you’re standing outside toji's dingy apartment building, where even the cracks in the walls look like they’ve seen some things. you’re not entirely sure why you’re here. okay, that’s a lie. you’re absolutely sure— it’s because of him. that rough-edged, broad-shouldered man who can bench press your common sense into oblivion. but of course, you’re telling yourself it’s "just to check in."

totally innocent.

you knock. a few beats of silence, then the door creaks open just wide enough for a face to peek out. it's megumi fushiguro, toji's odd kid, and his expression already screams ugh. the kind of look that says, "what does this clown want?"

"uh, hi," you say, suddenly unsure if you’re allowed to be nervous around a first grader, "is toji here?"

megumi stares at you like you just asked if the sky was plaid, "nope," he says flatly, but doesn’t move. he keeps the door partially open, like he’s either waiting for you to leave or deciding if you’re even worth his time.

"oh. okay, that's fine, i'll just —" you motion vaguely toward the stairs, already regretting this whole situation. but then the kid speaks up.

"why do you wanna see him?" his tone is casual, but his eyes? sharp like sea-glass. too sharp for someone so young. he’s leaning on the doorframe now.

you blink, mind going blank.

"i don’t...i mean, i was just dropping by to say hi. that’s all."

megumi tilts his head, scrutinising you like you’re a suspect in a crime only he knows about, "do you like my dad?"

you choke on what must be your last breath on this earth, "what?! no! i mean, what are you even saying, he's..."

you’re spiralling, and megumi's smug little smirk says he knows it. He’s enjoying this way too much.

"sure," he says with a shrug, stepping back into the apartment. he leaves the door wide open like it’s an invitation — or maybe a saw trap. against your better judgment, you follow him in.

megumi plops down on the couch, picking up a laptop like you’re not even there, "you’re not the first," he mutters without looking up.

"what’s that supposed to mean?" you ask, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

he shrugs again, still not meeting your gaze, "just saying, dad’s got... fans." he says it with the kind of disdain only a kid can muster when talking about their parent, "but you’re, like... different."

"different how?" you ask, instantly regretting it. you shouldn’t engage. this is toji's kid, not your personal gossip columnist.

megumi finally looks up, one eyebrow raised, "you don’t seem as dumb as the other ones."

wow. compliment of the century. "that's way harsh. but thanks," you say dryly, crossing your arms. "and here i thought we were bonding."

there’s a flicker of something else in the child's eyes. a glimmer of protectiveness, maybe, "look, i'm just saying...don’t get your hopes up, okay? i don't think my dad's that type of guy."

you frown, perplexed at having this conversation with a child who barely comes up past your waist, "what makes you say that?"

megumi looks like he’s about to launch into a powerpoint presentation on why toji fushiguro Is a walking red flag, but then he stops. his petulant expression shifts, softens, just a little, "i don't anyone to be sad."

and there it is. the kid act drops for a split second, and you see it. he’s not just being a little punk — he's protecting himself. maybe he’s seen toji screw up one too many times, or maybe he’s tired of people coming and going from their lives. either way, you feel a pang of sympathy.

you sit down on the edge of the couch, careful not to invade his space, "i get it,” you say gently, "and i appreciate you looking out for me, and for your father. but...maybe your dad’s not as bad as you think."

megumi snorts, "yeah, right. i think he's a mess."

"well, sometimes messy people need someone to believe in them," you say, surprising even yourself with the honesty in your voice.

he doesn’t respond right away, just stares at the laptop screen like it holds the answers to life. finally, he sighs, closing it with a decisive snap.

"fine. you can...hang out with him. or whatever. i won't pull any dumb shit,” megumi suddenly pauses at the slip of his tongue, “wait, don't tell him i said that word. but if this screws up, i'm saying ‘I told you so."

he sounds like he’s just agreed to let you borrow his favourite video game.

you smile, relieved, "deal."

just then, the front door opens, and in walks toji, all feathery raven hair, sweat-slicked muscles, and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder like he’s just conquered a small country. he pauses when he sees you, eyebrows raising in surprise. "hey, didn’t expect to see you here," he says, voice rough but warm.

before you can respond, megumi pipes up from the couch, "we had important business."

megumi watches you leave, your footsteps echoing down the hallway. you turn back once, smiling at toji like he’s just said something funny — or maybe like he’s not completely hopeless. his dad stands in the doorway, looking uncharacteristically relaxed, a satisfied smirk on his face that makes megumi's stomach churn.

how disgusting.

the second the door clicks shut, toji sighs like some kind of romantic hero from the bad drama his dad loves to secretly watch, running a hand through his choppy black hair and scratching at the back of his neck.

"isn't she cute?" coming from a guy who once tried to flirt with a waitress by asking her how many push-ups she thought he could do.

toji disappears into his room, leaving young, burdened megumi stranded on the couch with his thoughts. his dad — the six-foot-four slab of muscle and bad decisions who calls protein shakes "wizard juice" — is clearly falling for you. and honestly? megumi doesn’t hate the idea. you’re nice. you don’t talk down to him like other adults, and you don’t smell like motor oil and regret like toji's usual crowd.

but toji? his dad couldn’t woo a cactus. if this is going to happen, megumi's going to have to step in. it's the responsible thing to do.

he grabs his laptop again, boots it up, and clicks on the email icon with all the gravitas of a general preparing for war.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: hey gojo i need help message: hey gojo i need help.

he hits send, satisfied. within ten minutes, there’s a reply. gojo's always on his computer nowadays, swamped by senior finals.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: hey gojo i need help message: why are u emailing me. i feel weird emailing a six year old.

megumi rolls his eyes. he’s six, not stupid. he definitely thinks he's smarter than gojo satoru.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: i think my dad has a crush.

there’s a pause. megumi imagines goji sitting in his weirdly pristine apartment downstairs, wearing those stupid sunglasses he insists are cool, trying to process what he just read.

the reply comes in two words.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: come downstairs.

then another one.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: let’s debrief. i got cookies.

megumi shuts his laptop, slides off the couch, and heads for the door. it's time someone with real intelligence got involved.

megumi fushiguro sits at the kitchen table, eating rainbow cereal and trying to ignore the way his dad is pacing the room like a stressed-out gorilla. toji fushiguro, a walking, grunting tank of a man, is mumbling under his breath about "women" and "bad timing" and something about his shirt being "too tight." not that his dad has any normal shirts — just those stupid gym shirts.

megumi, as the only person in this house with half a brain cell, knows exactly what’s going on. his dad's got it bad for you.

not that he thinks that his dad would admit it. no, his dad's strategy for dealing with his obvious feelings is to act like a complete idiot whenever you’re around. last time, he dropped a dumbbell on himself while trying to show off. the time before that, he laughed so hard at one of your jokes he spat coffee everywhere. megumi had to clean it up.

so yeah, his dad was hopeless, and apparently, it’s megumi's job to fix it.

but megumi doesn’t think of himself as a matchmaker. he thinks of himself as a tortured genius, forced to live among lesser idiots. and frankly, he doesn’t even like the idea of his dad dating. because that's gross.

but the truth is, megumi's tired of toji stomping around the apartment like a lovesick rhino, and if getting you and his dad together means toji might finally stop asking megumi if his hair looks "cool," then so be it.

he starts small. when you knock on the door that afternoon, megumi answers and blocks the entrance like a bouncer, just like gojo told him to.

"oh, dad's not here again," he says, casual.

your face falls, and megumi immediately clocks it. bingo.

"you're in luck today, lady. wait here," he interrupts, darting inside, "i'll grab him."

except his dad is in there, muttering something about a broken pipe in the kitchen, while tapping furiously on his phone. megumi marches in, hands on his hips.

"i let her in," he announces, like a town crier.

his dad looks up, like a deer caught in the headlights of his own stupidity, "what? why didn’t you tell me? damn punk," he scrambles for a shirt.

"i'm telling you now, dad," megumi says, dully, "also, you’re acting like a weirdo. just go talk to her. ask her out."

toji freezes, halfway into his shirt, "what's gotten into you, kid? gonna drop a knife on me, huh? what am i supposed to say?"

megumi resists the urge to roll his eyes so hard they fall out of his head, "i don't know. say hi to her. maybe don't mention the gym."

his dad frowns, "you're six, punk. what do you know? people like hearing about that shit."

"not normal people."

once toji is finally presentable — or as presentable as a man with permanent bedhead and a scar on his lip can be — megumi ushers him out of the room. then, like the misunderstood mastermind he is, megumi follows quietly, lurking behind the door to eavesdrop.

toji opens the door to find you standing there, fiddling with the strap of your bag. his usual dumb smirk creeps onto his face, "hey, didn’t expect to see you here," he says, leaning on the doorframe like he thinks he’s starring in a cologne commercial.

"yeah, i was just...in the neighborhood," you say, sounding way too nervous for someone who claims this is a casual visit.

megumi winces. they’re hopeless. this is your neighbourhood, too.

toji scratches the back of his neck, a nervous tick Megumi’s only seen when he’s trying not to embarrass himself, "well, uh, you wanna come in? i was just... doing some cleaning. we can...talk, or some shit like that."

megumi knows for a fact that there's a lie in toji's words. the only cleaning his dad's ever done is shoving everything into the closet and calling it "organised."

but somehow, it works. you step inside, smiling at him like he just offered you free ice cream. now, that would be a decent offer.

from his spot behind the door, megumi mentally pats himself on the back. phase one: complete. he decides to clock out, flopping back on his rumpled bed to pull his laptop back out, immediately logging back onto his game.

but by the time you leave an hour later, toji looks like he just won the lottery. you’re smiling too, waving awkwardly before heading down the stairs. and ugh, gross! you lean in and press a soft kiss to toji's cheek before you turn.

as soon as the door shuts, toji leans against it and lets out the most ridiculous sigh megumi has ever heard.

"hah, kid. she likes me," his dad says, grinning like a lovesick idiot.

megumi, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, crosses his arms, "that's foul. but no thanks to you."

his dad opens one sharp green eye at him, and scowls. "what’s that supposed to mean?"

"it means," megumi says, feeling a lifetime of bribery for ice-cream excite him, "you owe me. big time."

toji’s standing in the doorway, looking at megumi like he just asked him to join some cult. he scratches the back of his head, giving megumi that look — like he’s trying to figure out what the hell his kid is up to now.

"eh, you look weird today," toji mutters, a half-smirk tugging at his lips. he reaches down and ruffles megumi’s hair like it’s no big deal, making it stick up even more. his hair gets all spiky and untamable, and megumi scowls, smoothing it down, trying (and failing) to get his dark spikes to behave.

"yeah, whatever, dad," megumi mutters under his breath as toji turns and saunters off into his room. toji’s probably about to do a hundred push-ups and gloat to himself. megumi can already hear the dumb grunting from the other room.

as soon as toji’s gone, megumi sits back down at the table, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

for once, the apartment is quiet. no random phone calls, no weird people showing up, no random training sessions that sound more like a one-man wrecking crew than “exercise.” just peace.

it’s bliss.

he takes another bite of cereal, enjoying the calm and the fact that someone else is going to have to deal with toji’s nonsense for once. it’s about time.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: mission accomplished message: it worked. my dad's in love.

a few seconds later, gojo’s reply pops up.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: mission accomplished message: that's great! wanna help me with the guy i like?

megumi squints at the screen, blinking twice. he closes his laptop with all the gravity of someone who has just solved world peace.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: re: re: mission accomplished message: no.

[cloudwisp]

𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 · 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦

contents: smut. minors dni 18+. reader wears a nightgown to subtly get the message across. attempt at seduction. lots of teasing and kissing. first time with him. size difference. fingering. borderline overstimulation. vaginal penetration. mostly sweet lovemaking but implications of leading to rougher sex. sylus has a huge dick (he is standing at 6’2 after all). 2.9k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ based off of this arranged marriage sylus x wife!reader post but can be read as a standalone. smut writing is never one of my strengths but I had fun with this one!! and I can only hope it’s an enjoyable read to those who were anticipating a sequel 🤍꒱

“Doing a little late night reading?” Sylus glances at your form through his peripheral as you enter his bedroom with a light skip in your steps. He’s perched at the end of his bed with a high profile report in hand, and with a tilt of your head and prying eyes you hover over the document between his fingers as you stand before him. You skim through a few lines before he tosses it aside, murmuring that it’s nothing of importance when something more interesting happens to catch his attention and you feel the heat of his gaze doing you a once-over.

Your cheeks warm and you feel a tad shyness wash over you when he quietly appraises your body clad in a gorgeous silk slip with lace embellishments. He hums in appreciation, a slow smirk curling on his lips before he reaches out to grasp your waist and pull you forward onto his lap. He secures one arm around you to keep you in place and his thumb sweeps over the delicate sleepwear and the bare skin of your thigh in a soft, languid motion. “You’ll catch a cold in just your nightgown, kitten. Or did you wear it for me?”

“Maybe I just wanted to change into something a little more comfortable.” You respond with a coy smile and playful shrug of your shoulder which causes the thin strap to fall from just a whisper of movement. He enjoys your little display and act of innocence if this is your way of telling him that you want to deepen the relationship through shared intimacy like normal marital couples do during this time of night. And truthfully, he’s been waiting far too long for this moment to come but he didn’t expect you to offer yourself on a silver platter. What a sweet and precious wife you are.

“I’m sure you could find something more suitable than a flimsy nightgown.” His knuckles brush up along your arm and hooks the fallen strap around his finger to slide it back into its proper place. “But then, perhaps you wanted to tease me, too?”

You click your tongue in disappointment. No matter what you do he was always two steps ahead of you—it’s thoughtful yet infuriating especially when you want him to act more surprised. “Nothing ever gets passed by you, it seems.”

His large hand slips under the lace trimmings of your nightgown and moves closest to your backside for a firm squeeze. “You should know by now how badly I want you, sweetheart. And with you sitting in my lap, looking breathtaking like that. I’m tempted to just rip this little thing off of you.”

You purse your lips into a small pout that’s adorable to him and grunt in disapproval. “What if this night dress is one of my favorites? Don’t I get a say in what you can and can’t tear?”

He arches a brow as though to challenge you by putting the theory into practice. You keep forgetting that he could read you like an open book, and he loves nothing more than proving you wrong at every chance. “Are you saying you wouldn’t enjoy it if I did? I’ll buy you new ones. Better ones.”

You mull over at the thought. “Sounds troublesome. I’ll have to keep making these frequent shopping trips.”

“I just mean the nightgown is in the way of me seeing all of you. You’re more than welcome to wear it any other time, but right now… I want it off.”

“Well, it’s only fair you make the next move.” He groans lowly when you shift your weight in his lap and rest your head against him. You drag your manicured finger down his chest and gently flick at the silver chain looped between his collar. “I did come all this way just for you.”

He understood your meaning and leans down close enough so his warm breath fans over your lips when he tilts your chin to look at him. “If you want me to take off my clothes, you’ll have to undress me yourself.” The soft spoken words in his deep voice send a tingle to the back of your brain, and the lingering kiss he places on the corner of your mouth adds a fluttering sensation in your stomach.

“Still making me work for it? And here I thought I would be cherished and wouldn’t even need to lift a finger.” You bring yourself upright and shove him down onto the bed to climb over him and straddle him. He gives you a knowing smirk at the sound of your cute gasp when you feel just how hard he is for you against your clothed cunt. You make quick work of undoing the underlay of buttons tucked beneath the thick fabric of his tailored dress shirt and remove it entirely to reveal every bit of lean muscle. His build akin to that of a spectacularly sculpted marble statue down to the details of his veins on his strong arms.

“Making you work for it is half the fun, kitten. But just remember who will be putting in the most work tonight.” His hand wanders up your thigh again and moves along the curve of your waist, the expensive silk bunches under his touch and he gropes the fullness of your breast. You feel the strap loosen around your shoulder once more. “Are you liking what you’re seeing? You’re allowed to mark what’s yours, you know. But I’d like to be able to mark you as mine too, wife.” His hungry eyes slowly roam over your matching panties and midriff before he returns your gaze.

Your smaller hand covers his knuckles meanwhile his thumb brushes across your nipple and he revels in the feeling of the bud hardening over the material. “You’re just always so straightforward, aren’t you?” You sensually wrap your finger around the other strap that’s perfectly intact and at your cue Sylus glides his hand down to the small of your back and watches as the dress cascades down to your midsection.

“And you’re so beautiful.” You’re a heavenly sight to behold with the way his amorous stare commits your very existence to his memory, particularly the swell of your lovely breasts that’s heavy with lust and begging for more of his attention. He gently reaches for your wrist and his fingers smooth under your palm to bring your hand up to his face. His thumb runs over the wedding band that binds you to him laying a light kiss against your knuckles, then places your hand over his shoulder waiting for your next move.

You don’t waste another second closing the distance between you two and crash your lips against his for a needy and desperate kiss. Your fingers tangle into his silver locks and your heat grinds against him hoping for some semblance of relief from the ache that’s building inside you. You feel him envelop your breasts fully with each caress and tender squeeze and a little bit of nipple play.

Sylus tastes faintly of sweet, tannic notes from the lingering aftertaste of red wine as your tongue meets his through parted lips. His arms and hands alternate between hugging your body and grip tightening on your hips, bucking himself up into your heat. You feel yourself needing more, wanting more and being closer to him so you hurriedly unbuckle his belt and suddenly the sound of fabric tearing reaches your ears.

You muffle in surprise against his lips and push him back just enough to see him wearing a smug expression. “I should’ve known you’d go against my wishes.” You scoff in disbelief and yet there’s a grin playing across your features that betrays your earlier words. You hate to admit he was right from the start—that you’d find the ripping more attractive instead of being carefully unwrapped like you both have all the patience in the world.

Sylus discards the now ruined piece of clothing aside. He lifts you with ease and your back embraces the cool sheets when he drops you down on the mattress and returns to his full height. “I was never one to follow rules. Besides, you look perfect like this.” You support yourself up on your elbows to follow his movements, and any smart comeback you have dies in your throat when he picks up where you left off by unfastening his belt and stripping out of his trousers. His boxer briefs follow suit and he thinks it’s adorable how you look mesmerized from this performance alone.

Your eyes settle on his huge cock. Almost gawking at it and you unconsciously clench your thighs together. It’s perfectly proportioned to the rest of him—long and notably thicker with an upward center curve and a few prominent veins here and there. He flushes a pretty shade of red that’s gradient from the head down and his pubes are neatly trimmed.

“You don’t have to look so scared, kitten.” He rasps an amused chuckle, and he feels you tense slightly when his hand scales up along your knee to your inner thigh and he dips his fingers between your legs. “I’ll take my time with you so you can handle me.”

Your breath hitches when he feels how drenched you are through your panties. He offers a gratified hum, his handsome face and broad shoulders become your main focus as he closes in on you. “Spread your legs wider.” He murmurs into your ear, and as soon as you give him more access he delves into your mouth for a bruising kiss and chases you down onto the bed. His ministrations on your clit feel absolutely sinful yet so wonderful and your arm wrap around his back meanwhile your hand explores the muscled panels of his upper body and the areas that are within your reach.

A string of saliva connects you both then disappears as your lips come apart. But he doesn’t stray far when the exquisite look on your face is a breath away and he pulls your panties aside to collect your arousal with two digits sliding through your puffy folds. Your lustful sounds escape in a warm exhale as soon as he slowly inserts his thick fingers into your tight pussy, and you’re quite the vision arching your back so tastefully.

“Mmh, that f-feels so good, Sylus.” Your eyes glaze over when he steadily pumps in and out of you, curling so deliciously at your sweet spot and he marvels at the way your cunt is greedily sucking in his fingers. There’s nothing else like him, the way he stretches you and reaches the deeper parts and hits the bits you can’t yourself. He adores the breathless sighs and mewls of his name when he pushes you to the edge even more while kissing you senselessly.

“You sound beautiful. I love the way my name tastes on your lips.” You can feel him smirk against you, but you’re too immersed in your pleasure to respond in words that aren’t broken syllables. He trails open-mouth kisses down to your jawline and along the column of your neck, grazing his teeth and softly sucking on your skin until hues of velvet purple form. Your head burrows into the soft cushion of the mattress, hips squirming as your hand clutches onto his forearm from tension coiling inside you.

“M’gonna come soon, Sy—!” Your pretty moans and pants grow heavier each second, and he loves feeling your body quiver when you’re pressed under him. He’s still knuckles deep inside you with every intention of bringing you up to heaven and back down to him. After all, he doesn’t believe in doing things halfway but can’t pass an opportunity to tease his darling wife.

“You’re getting so close already? I barely got started with you, sweetie.” He chuckles lowly yet his cock twitches as precum oozes and leaks down from the slit of his tip. “Don’t hold it in now. Let go and come for me.”

He’s met with your gorgeous o-face when the euphoric bliss courses through your entire body as your walls tighten around his fingers. Your moans turn into squeals and you try to shove his hand away to soften your orgasm but he doesn’t budge from being much stronger than you. The feeling is more than you can handle when your thighs clamp together to stop his movements. But you don’t want the addictive sensation to leave just yet when he borderline overstimulates you, turning you into a trembling and writhing mess.

You barely have a moment to catch your breath when a chortle escapes you from watching him bring his fingers coated in your cum to his mouth for a curious taste. “Mm. Sweet, just as I thought. You did great, kitten.” He leans down to plant a chaste kiss on your forehead, and the first wave of your drawn-out release slowly ebbs away. “Don’t you think you deserve one more?” Sylus pulls your soaked panties down your legs and casts them aside, leaving you completely bare under his gaze.

“I should hope so. Been wanting for you to stuff me with your fat cock tonight.” You’re still a little breathless when your finger glides down his toned chest in a sensual and playful manner. He makes a content hum at the sound of that with an upward quirk of his lips.

“What a bold and resilient wife I have on my hands. As long as I have you, I’ll never be bored again.” He gladly hoists your leg to wrap around his waist and spits down, giving himself a few strokes making it slick before aligning himself to your dripping cunt. His precum mixes with the remnants of your previous climax with the heavy drag of his tip from your opening up along your clit. He revels in the way your body responds with a little spasm. “I won’t have you going back on your words now.”

The flutter of your lashes steers away from his deep and enigmatic eyes, a nervous gnaw of your lower lips as you anticipate the painful stretch from taking him. “Go slow, okay? Because you know…” He knew you were implying about his sheer size, and you feel him grab hold of your hand and press your interlaced hand against the bed beside your head.

He captures your swollen lips that feel entirely too sweet and intimate, replacing your worries with a gentle tangle of his encompassing love and adoration that seeps into your soul. “I wouldn’t dream about hurting you. That’s a promise. But you have to let me in first.” Your breath hitches when his aching tip probes your entrance, yet the tension doesn’t leave your body until he tells you to focus on him with the exchange of kisses laced with a growing insistence. “You’ll let me know if it hurts, kitten? I want to make you feel good.”

With that said, your sharp nails dig into his shoulder blade and draw red lines at the burning stretch that feels too much yet so good at the same time. Your soft sighs and whimpers fill the hazy room and he’s fucking you slowly with just the tip to help ease the initial discomfort. He searches your face every now and again making sure you’re okay before he continues, letting out a guttural moan when he slips in a little more with each thrust until he carves his way into you completely.

“You’re in too deep—hah. Feel so full and good.” You shudder when he stills his movements, throbbing cock nestled inside you to the hilt and kissing your cervix. There’s a carnal desire brewing in his stomach seeing you pinned under his weight keeping him nice and warm. He wouldn’t mind spending the entire night with you, any plans and commitments he had prior be damned the moment you swayed in through the double doors. “Want you to m-move, please.”

The sound of your polite begging makes him twitch involuntarily, and he could only imagine what desperate pleas you have in store for him tonight and he’s looking forward to it. When your pretty lips implore him to fuck you faster and harder he won’t be able to hold back. After all, he has always been ready and waiting to give himself to you that aligns with your willingness to accept him. There is no love purer than his, this craving he has reserved only for you. “You know you only have to ask, and I’ll give you everything you want. Just be careful what you wish for, sweetie.”

Sylus chuckles at your cute whine shortly after—such a needy little thing you are. He falls into a sweet and slow rhythm that makes you feel each thrust, the head of his dick down to its shape and following the shaft that caresses the underside of your pleasure endings so incredibly good. Your legs wrap around his back and you pull him in deeper because close just isn’t close enough for you. You need to feel the heat of his body sear against your skin as you hold him, and in turn you feel him squeeze your interlaced hand. “Tonight, you’re all mine. Forget anyone else in the world but me.”