#eyeliner makes me look hot

[vittoriaisfuckingpathetic]

i want him carnally but i also want his gender. hope that helps

[ceaseless-rambler]

I just did Jonny d'Ville eyeliner and how the hell did he get his off. I used a pencil which I believe is generally easier to get off than liquid liner (although I could be making that up idk) and it was horrible to remove. I think Jonny's eyeliner looks more like liquid based on the smoothness of the lines and opacity and stuff. How the FUCK

[artemismatchalatte]

I remember cosplaying as a teen. I used to mostly dress as male characters just because the girl's outfits were usually too short/revealing that I wouldn't feel comfortable in. It was fun wearing suits and men's clothing.

I thought of it again last night even though I gave up cosplaying a WHILE ago because I'm not really into anime any more.

However, in college, I very nearly went out for a student drag show. I had a persona and everything. I backed out at the last second. Not proud of that, but it's what I did.

But the idea just kind of sat with me and has come back to me a few times since then.

There was a joke my friend and I had. He made a fake drag persona to go with mine. I don't think he thought I was serious but I think I might have been.

[tonycries]

Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.

Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.

Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing. 

Word count. 9.0k

A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.

Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.

With a capital h. 

Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.

Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly. 

The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air. 

Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.

Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome. 

What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.

Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?

Alas, the universe isn’t on your side, and you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real? 

You double check the address you’ve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that won’t make your head spin before reaching for the door again.

But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesn’t do much to hide that godly physique. 

“Not that m’complaining, but who’re you and why’re ya in my house?” you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable. 

“Choso,” he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot. 

You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where you’d heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, you’d know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks. 

Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. “Not surprised you haven’t seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.” he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t place. “M’babysitting your brother for tonight.”

You almost don’t hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo? 

In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, you’d only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didn’t know what exactly you’d anticipated. You just didn’t expect him to be so…hot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.

God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol. 

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Everything alright there?” he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.

You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. “Mhm, perfect.” Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.

Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, “Well, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jus’ know I’m always down to-” 

And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - that’s when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots you’ve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.

Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine. 

And then it’s all black. 

To match his eyes.

---

The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though you’ve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact. 

Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers of…your bed…that you’ve been tucked into? 

Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment. 

Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 

And just as you’re entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he must’ve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that. 

With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.

And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“G’morning,” he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. “Feeling any better?”

You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.”

Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. “It was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, c’mon, your brother and I are making pancakes.” 

You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to... y’know, act like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time-” 

“It’s al-”

 “I swear I’ve seen ankles-”

A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. “S’alright, sweetheart. I didn’t mind.” 

And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didn’t trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about. 

Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, “Besides, it was kinda cute.”

And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadn’t uttered words that sent your mind reeling. 

As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Choso’s warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.

You just didn’t realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso. 

It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever he’s scheduled to babysit.

You’ve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brother’s hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye. 

Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve. 

At this point, Choso’s at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brother…and sometimes Yuji, but semantics.

“Semantics” are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-

Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as you’ve said - semantics.

Yet, sometimes you even think there’s a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.

…

Nahhh. 

Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.

Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.

And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again. 

His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.

Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.

So he does have nipple piercings.

God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.

As you approach, Choso’s grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.

The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.

“Shoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, y’know.” you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.

Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. “Maybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,” 

You scoff, “Maybe you should stop being a distraction then.”

His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, “S’not my fault you’re so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.”

“Oh, it’s on now.”

“Well, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,” Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.

Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.

---

Now, Choso knows you’re hot - always has.

Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yuji’s dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him. 

But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.

Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring “Beg for mercy and I’ll let you off easy, Choso.”

“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”

Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, “Then, better run for your life.”

Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that- 

A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesn’t even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as he’s drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.

Too focused on trying not to make it obvious he’s mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogether…

Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory. 

Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that he’s not just screwed, he’s absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.

So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.

Like, right now.

Shit. 

With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso can’t help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.

And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least he’ll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.

With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you. 

Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.

With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasn’t as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He can’t help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock. 

Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. “Shit.” he breathes, “J-jus’ like that, sweetheart.” 

Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-

He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock? 

One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lil’ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well. 

Or maybe…

Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins. 

Maybe you’d be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, you’d probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, “Now now, baby. If you don’t act like a good boy then you won’t get to cum~”

“Sh-shit, hah-” Choso thinks he’s going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him. 

All for him. 

It’s too much. 

“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. “More. Need m-more, sweetheart.” 

Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Choso’s thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon. 

Choso’s heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows he’d be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind. 

Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows you’d do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand. 

Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you won’t call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows he’s fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.

But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. He’d kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.

Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could. 

“Cum f’me, baby.” you’d mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. “Mm, fill me up with your cum, wan’ taste you, baby-”

“Fuck,” he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.”

You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isn’t making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him. 

You. 

And then he’s cumming. 

A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and he’s spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-

You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.

You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what he’d been doing on this suspiciously long “bathroom break”.

Shit.

Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.

But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him. 

Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldn’t have to-

…

God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow. 

Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course. 

Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.

…

Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved. 

Either way, what you’d expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.

Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.

At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.

Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.

And you didn’t mind?

In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-

Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?

You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-

Click!

You’re sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

---

You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldn’t decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies

And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldn’t help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.

But if there’s anything you’ve learned about Choso - it’s that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.

You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew he’d be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew he’d have more very fun bathroom breaks.

Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt. 

Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time. 

It’s only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.

“The big guns” being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R. 

It wasn’t too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.

You just didn’t think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of “Netflix no chill. Haha jk…unless?” But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?

And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yuji’s place, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right? 

It’s a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.

Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you weren’t lying about the movie being rated R.

Now, Choso certainly didn’t come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasn’t expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.

Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.

Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.

Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.

This was absolute torture. 

“God, this is so painfully fake. Don’t you think so?” your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.

His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. “Oh, yeah.” voice rough with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve seen better performances in middle school plays.”

You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. “I mean, who even writes this stuff?” you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. “It’s like they’ve never actually had sex before.”

Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success. 

“Yeah, exactly,” he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.

You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him. 

A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. 

“Choso, just a thought.” you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. “Wanna recreate the scene better?”

His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.

You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. “Absolutely.”

It was like something snapped.

Because then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. Because goddammit you haven’t spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.

Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didn’t have enough time. And he probably didn’t. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.

Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.

You minx.

Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one he’s shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.

God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.

Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.

“Kiss me, you fool.”

And, well, Choso didn’t have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.

With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing. 

You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. “Choso- bed.” you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. “Now.”

Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, “Honestly, sweetheart. I don’t even hah- know if we’ll make it there.” Mumbling against your lips, “Would you kill me if I take you right here right now?”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking do something.” you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.

Choso doesn’t pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he teleported there.

Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Choso’s snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting. 

“Always wanted to do this.” you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue. 

“Oh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- f’my piercings, sweetheart.” Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that. 

Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-

Oh god, if you had to describe Choso’s face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.

Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.

You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Choso’s eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers “Guess you were expecting this, huh?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. 

Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, y’know,” you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously. 

And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. “Now, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?” 

You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. “Wha- that doesn’t matter. I was drunk and-”

Smack!

The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.

“What was it, sweetheart?”

You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. “I- it’s stupid. I was gonna say that I’m down to sit on your face, baby.”

“Thought so,” he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions. 

God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, “Now, sit on m’face.”

And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Choso’s pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples. 

Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping. 

Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.

Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing. 

“Luckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on m’face ever since I saw you.” sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips. 

He barely even gets the words out before he’s surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.

Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face. 

He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. “Hngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-”

Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him “baby”. It’s as if every wet dream he’s ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-

His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.

“Oh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. S’good.” your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue. 

Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. “Ah! Right there - jus’ like that!”

As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost don’t notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.

Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water. 

Oh, how you’d kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.

So you do. 

Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide. 

“Shit,” you whisper, voice strained with need. 

You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you. 

And that’s probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue. 

“Oh?” he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. “Didn’t think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gon’ make me cum, hm?”

Now, you’ve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Choso’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs. 

You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could. 

Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. You’re really a dream come to life. 

A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.

He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl. 

Popping off with a lewd squelch, “Feels good, baby?”

“Feels perfect.”

But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.

Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.

Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.

Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-

Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.

Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips. 

Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.

So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same. 

Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat. 

Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later. 

Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face. 

You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt. 

“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.

And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well. 

“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him. 

Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more. 

You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty. 

And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.

The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.

“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”

A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”

Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.

Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.

You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock. 

And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass. 

“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them. 

Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?

“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.

And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”

The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”

His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?

“Wha-”

And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.

Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.

Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him. 

But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.

There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.

Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason. 

“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.

“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”

You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.

And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. 

Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more. 

Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him,  “More? My sweetheart wants more?”

And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get. 

“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.

And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.

Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”

“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.

“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”

You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”

You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”

“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.

And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.

Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”

“I know.”

“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”

“Choso, just kiss me.”

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you. 

And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut. 

White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.

It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want. 

As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully. 

A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.

In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.

Too afraid to break you.

To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.

And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.

“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually. 

“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves. 

Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”

“Nope.”

Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed. 

“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.” 

Except maybe those. 

You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.

Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.

“Well, we still have time so how about-”

A distant click!

“Honey, we’re home~!”

Shit.

A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[whizzinpast]

[Image ID: Image of four horizontal close-ups depicting the eyes of the Alien Stage cast stacked vertically, one atop the other. From top to bottom, it starts with Sua, then Mizi, Ivan, and ends with Till. The characters are drawn in a sketchy, ink-heavy style with desaturated colors. A diagonal shadow runs across all four pairs of eyes, starting from Sua’s right eye, covering both of Mizi’s eyes, Ivan’s nose bridge and left eye, then ending halfway across Till’s left eye. /.End ID]

Another ALNST friday i forgot about because I was too busy *raking fingers down my face*

ANYWAY FUCK MY LIFE

[strawberri-syrup]

i need to get an eyeliner pencil so i can smudge it more effectively……my liquid liner dries too fast

[bi-writes]

mail order bride meeting 141 for the first time 🙏

mail-order bride

he likes the way this moment sounds. it will end soon, when you both walk out the door, but for now, he sits, and he doesn't want it to end.

it's not just the sound of the television. his favorite football team has finally fucking put one into the corner of the net. the announcers cheer, but this isn't all that he hears.

the cat is in the kitchen. he can't see it, but he hears it (the little fucker). she's pawing at the cat grass that sits above the sink now. when he leans forward, he notices her little nose pushing it around before she takes a bite out of it.

she leaves the basil alone.

and then there's the sound of you. your feet in the bedroom. when you pass by the doorway, he can see you in different states of getting ready. when you pass by this time, he can see your eyeliner is on both eyes now, not just one, and your hair doesn't have clips or pieces to hold it in its style anymore. it lays perfectly now; he did a double-take when he saw it this way for the first time. you're rifling through the closet now. your clothes used to be in their own drawers. separated. socks not touching one another. your half of the closet, and his half. perfectly divided.

he doesn't remember when it happened. he found your bra under his t-shirt today. he was going through the jackets because your dresses were now between them. in the bathroom, he almost stuck your toothbrush in his mouth because they rest side-by-side in the holder.

when he looks around the room, he can't see where you begin, and he cannot see where he ends. he doesn't see where he started.

but he can see where you will go.

you bounce into the living room, holding up two hangers. there's dresses on each of them, one a dark color, the other light, and you hold them in front of simon who's still sitting on the couch, his head in his hand as he concentrates on the game (where he pretends like he hasn't been thinking about you too hard to really focus).

"simon?" you call, and he grunts, looking over at you. "which one do you like?"

he looks over the two dresses before looking at you. he hums, leaning back against the couch. he shrugs before looking back at the telly. you would look like perfection in either of them, but that isn't what you asked, and that isn't the answer you want.

"the darker one. like ya in tha' color."

you smile a little before going back into the bedroom, hanging the other dress back up and laying the other one out on the bed. you rummage through the dresser for proper undergarments, picking a soft lace pair of panties with a matching bra. you slip them on before stepping into the dress.

you reach around for the waist, and when your attempts to grab it are futile, you look over your shoulder towards the door.

"simon?" you call out gently. "could you come here, please?"

there's a shuffle of sound before simon steps into the bedroom. you point to your back, smiling at him shyly.

"c-could you help me? i can't reach the zipper."

he makes his way over to where you stand in front of the mirror. you watch as his eyes roam over your back, as he takes in the sight in front of him. you swallow as he drags a few knuckles down the length of your spine, his eyes flicking up to meet yours in the mirror before he takes the zipper in his hand and pulls it up. when he finishes, he steps a little closer, dipping his head to look at you from over your shoulder. you turn your head to look up at him, smiling.

"everything okay?" you ask softly, and he clicks his tongue, sliding his hand from its place on your back to wrap around your middle. he spreads a big palm over your tummy before dragging you backwards, your backside pressing against his front.

"mmm..." he scrunches his nose a little, running a pink tongue over his teeth. "look fuckin' beautiful."

you giggle, looking away, spreading your palms along your cheeks to try and make it less hot, less warm--fuck, it's so hot, isn't it?

you pull away to go for your shoes, picking them up from the closet. you take a seat on the bed, trying to ignore simon's stare (impossible), and you put the shoes down to slip your feet into them. just as you bend to buckle them, simon tsks, and you sit up as he kneels down in front of you.

"simon, you--"

"shut it," he mutters, reaching down and picking your foot up by the ankle gently. he wraps the strap around it, fastening the buckle, and you open your mouth to say something, but then he bends, giving your knee a soft kiss before reaching for your other foot.

your eyes meet again as he wraps it around your ankle. he smirks, just enough, and your lip wobbles a little as he fastens the next shoe before setting it back down on the floor. he puts his hands on his knee to get up, standing to his full height, and your neck strains as you try and look up at him.

at times, you feel at odds. he anticipates your needs before you even know what they are yourself. he pushes your meals in front of you just as you realize you're hungry. he helps you to the top shelf whenever you need it, picking you up from your waist without even a grunt. he feeds the cat when she cries, he wipes the tears from your face just as they fall.

you want to be more. you want to be his wife. your life is leisure and warmth, you are cared for like a fine porcelain doll, but what are you to him? what do you do for him? what is it that you bring, why are you here, why did he ever even want you if he provides and all you do is take, take, take?

the pub is alive. the lights flicker and glow a warm orange, and there's many crowds around tables, cheering and laughing and clinking pints together. you swallow as you look around; a crowded place with lots of unfamiliar faces. you freeze at the door, blinking, trying to take it all in. just as you stiffen, there's a presence right at your back.

an arm circles around your middle protectively. simon's warm hand rests at the curve of your waist, and you look up at him. he stares down at you knowingly. he's wearing his mask, obscuring his entire face except for his eyes, but you've learned to read him all the same. his hood darkens the shadows over him, but you see what he's telling you easily.

'm right 'ere.

simon moves you in front of him, walking just behind you, and he leans over to murmur in your ear as he guides you forward.

"in the corner, luv."

you barely have time to register that your husband just called you love when you see an enthusiastic wave meant for you out of the corner of your eye.

simon showed you their pictures, but the grainy selfies from his phone don't do them any justice. kyle has a pearly smile and round cheeks (troublemaker, he could get away with anything with those eyes). johnny has an infectious grin and wild curls that fall in a line down his head (a wild card, he's got eyes that you can't read and a leg bouncing from his terrible inability to sit still). and then there's john, hidden under a beanie and a rough smile (all business, all thought, because even out here, he can't stop his mind from wandering back to the papers on his desk and the cries for help he can't ignore).

johnny's smile drops a little when you come near. he eyes the hand that simon has on you, the proximity of your bodies. he raises a brow when you hold out your hand to shake, gawking when he eyes your other hand, the ring that sparkles there.

"ach, LT..." johnny swallows hard. "is this...is she--?"

simon clears his throat. "this is my wife."

"steamin' jesus," johnny breathes, leaning back in the booth. he picks up his drink and knocks back the entire thing, choking a little as he looks between the two of you. "what the fawk?!"

you blink, stepping back, and simon takes a seat beside john, shaking his head.

"fuckin' hell, johnny. behave," simon mutters. "'s not--"

"ye said y'were showin' us yer new lass," johnny quips. "not yer wife!"

you look at simon, laughing a little.

"simon, you didn't tell them you were married?"

"tha' was need t'know," simon mutters, rolling his eyes. you giggle, looking around for somewhere to sit. simon doesn't give you much time to choose--you let out a shaky breath as he picks you up from your hips, sliding you up and onto his thigh. he spreads his legs a little to accommodate you, but he's such a big man.

simon holds one hand at your back, and the other lays flat against the table. it's easy, falling into conversation with them. they don't talk about work. they're infatuated with their lieutenant and his surprise wife. they ask if he owns pajamas. they ask if he takes the mask off to sleep. they ask if simon whittles, if he listens to music, if there's a snack that puts him in a good mood (jaffa cakes, you tell johnny, who cackles with delight).

when simon gets up to have a smoke, you're surprised. simon never leaves you alone in a public place, ever. he's always at your back, even at the grocery store. he likes to take you aisle by aisle, and he doesn't care if it makes the trip longer, because he doesn't like to have you out of his sight for very long.

he gives you that look, one that you can read. you're safe with these men.

you agree. they bring simon home, every single time.

"awwww, no' gonna give yer lass a smooch, LT?" johnny winks. "'s alright, we don't care. won't think ye a big softie cuz o' it."

simon rolls his eyes, pocketing his cigarettes as he stands by the table. he dips his fingers into johnny's pint and flicks him with it before leaning over and kissing you lightly through the mask, a chaste kiss that already leaves you reeling.

you blink, caught off guard, and you blink up at simon so slowly, a syrupy smile falling over your face.

"LT, that wasnae a real one," johnny rolls his eyes. "wut, are ye scared of us?"

"shut your fuckin' mouth, sergeant, i'll make y'do laps tomorrow."

"big baby."

you watch simon take the back door, letting it swing shut behind him. you excuse yourself, following after him, pushing the door open and blinking to adjust to the dark light of the alleyway.

there's stars out. they sparkle, and you pause to stare up at them for just a moment before making your way to where simon leans against a brick wall.

it all reminds you that you're just small. not small, but smaller than simon, and compared to what stares at you across a violet sky, you are nothing but specks in time. you're drifters, composites of organic matter that somehow, for some reason, exist at the same time.

simon's eyes find your own in the dark. it's hard to see; the only light nearby flickers, and it's hard to focus, but you can see his eyes clearly, magnetized even when the rest of him seems so obscure, hiding from your view.

your smile is clear, too. the watery lines of your eyes, they glow, and when you come near, you and simon are in your own bubble, a pocket of the universe that cannot be explained. he has found you, and you have found him, and even when the night sky tries so hard to hide the things you know are there, it isn't strong enough to take away what exists in the in-between.

you slide your fingers under the hem of his mask. this kind of thing is practiced. the same thing you do when he comes home every day. the only acts of service he ever allows, the only things he ever lets you do.

you ask yourself always what it is that you provide. what it is that he sees in you that you can't seem to see in yourself.

maybe it's this. maybe it's the grounding. the gravity he never used to feel, the orbit he could never quite get himself to maintain, the taut line of connection that's been severed ever since the only people he's ever loved were ripped right out from underneath his ribs.

he puts his hands over yours when the mask is over his nose. his palms over the backs of your hands, warm skin over soft, something broken over something seeking.

"you don't want this," simon whispers, and you frown a little, shaking your head.

"how...how can you say that?"

"i'm not..." he flinches a little. "not made for this. 's not wha' y'think."

you're eyes water. you aren't sad. you're upset.

"y-you have no idea," you whisper. "i know what i want. you can always tell when i'm lying, am i lying now?"

"'s not--"

"simon," you stop him. "look at me," you sniffle, and he closes his eyes, squeezes them shut, before finding your gaze again. it's frightening, what he sees. he sees nothing that he expects. no deception. no fear. the honesty, it terrifies him. the reality of accepting what he can't understand hurts inside. it trickles deep, down to his toes, along his spine, a curdling in his stomach that he can't believe because there's no way that someone can love me when i can't fucking love myself. "am i lying now?"

"no," he breathes, and your smile is sickly sweet. he doesn't understand. he doesn't get it. nothing in his life has ever been this easy. nothing in his life has ever been just for him, all for him, just his, and no one else's. there has never been a piece of life that has ever pitied him enough to let him have it exactly as it is, and yet here she is, my perfect girl, arriving on my doorstep.

like you dropped straight from heaven. angels with soft hands and a timid face and a shadow with soft fur and big eyes and terrible little temper.

simon's hand is an anchor on the back of your head. tilting you to the side, drawing you near, until you are on your toes, and your face is canted up.

you kiss in the dark. your mouth slots over his, hands gripping the front of his jacket as you try and get even closer to him. he's a little shy at first, letting you lead while he follows, but it only takes a few seconds for you to feel his hand stiffen against your head as he kisses you feverishly.

you smile between kisses. he smiles, too. you giggle, and he huffs, and he chases you with more kisses as you cradle his face between your hands and whisper between soft presses, i'm sorry and i know and it's all i've ever wanted.

when you pull away, he doesn't let you go. he presses your forehead to his, connecting you somehow, breathing in the warmth that you radiate to try and calm the pulsing of his blood that rushes in his ears.

when your eyes open again, and you look at each other, everything is suddenly clearer. whatever he saw before, everything must have been in black and white.

he sees in color. the stars align. they fall, one by one, sparkling as they form a pattern, one undiscovered by anyone before him, one he will keep all to himself in the time that follows. when he kisses you again, he memorizes that pattern.

he knows it will always lead right back to you.

[rinhaler]

Trigger Finger Ready and Got Nowhere To Run To

Did you ever imagine your boyfriend would offer up your body to solve a yakuza dispute? No, but you aren't surprised.

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ yakuza!ryomen sukuna x f!reader x yakuza!toji fushiguro

Genre: filthy filthy porn with a plot Notes: biggest happy bday to the dilf of dilfs (and my husband of husbands), toji!! (++ sukuna bc they r both beefy n hot :3) Warnings: 18+, dub/noncon, mentions of violence/murder, toxic!relationship, free use ♡, manipulation, jealousy, fem!Uraume, degradation ♡, praise, no prep, oral fixation ♡, size!kink, daddy!kink, choking (hands + belt), slight breathplay, exhibitionism, spanking, dacryphilia ♡, dumbification, creampie(s), calls your pussy “she/her”, slight cucking, oral (m+f receiving), restraints, fingering ♡, pussy spanks, squirting ♡, multiple orgasms, double penetration!(one hole), brief anal mentioning, breeding ♡, belly bulge ♡, pet names (princess, brat, good girl, sweetheart). Words: 15.2k

You’re numb.

Only mentally, numb, to the word which you willingly leapt into. A world with bloodied rivers and bodies piled to the height of the highest mountains. None of it bothers you, not anymore.

Talks of murder and dismemberment barely reach your ears as you flip through the pages of your magazine. You aren’t sure why Sukuna insisted that you be here. He likes to show you off, you suppose. He likes to flaunt what he possesses, and his men never will.

“How much longer?” you whisper, eyes scanning the pages on the gossip mag in your hands. You’d rather be reading a copy of Vogue, but one of Sukuna’s idiotic subordinates picked up the wrong magazine in a hurry.

Actually… You haven’t seen him since.

“What have I told you?” your lover whispers back, he leans over to you. His head turns away from looking at the men in the room as the meeting goes on. But their boss sharing his attention with you rather than the subject at hand earns a few nosy onlookers watching you converse. “Be a brat in private, not here.”

You sigh, crossing one leg over the other as you carry on reading. Sukuna’s hand rests on your thigh before he scowls at the men who’d dare to look at him with an emotion other than fear in their eyes.

He stands up, staring down silently at everyone in the room. It even manages to get your attention. The dread he’s able to instill into his subordinates is more than just impressive to you. It’s exhilirating. Sukuna is a king, and not just to you. To his little brother sitting nearby as the meeting continues. To the subordinates he trusts and who hang on his every solitary breath. And to the public.

People know who you are, now.

You’re Sukuna’s girl.

You were nothing, until him.

He was quite fond of your big mouth and downright horrible attitude when you met. He liked that you didn’t know who he was, and you didn’t hold back when he accidentally bumped into you while shopping. You were wearing a white sundress that hugged every inch of your body, and the coffee in your hand turned the material murky and hideous.

The men surrounding him and ready to silence you for good weren’t even registered in your mind. You didn’t even notice they were there until the friend you were shopping with told you to shut up.

You insulted him, sure. But Sukuna was barely listening. He was too drawn to the way the liquid made your already tight dress cling and stick in all of the right places. Your decision to go braless became painfully obvious to anyone who’d dare let their eyeline drop to your chest.

He dismissed his men, earning a sigh of relief from you and your friend. You watched him carefully as he pulled out his wallet.

“I ruined your dress, huh? Let me buy you a new one, and a new coffee.” he told you. Your eyes bulged as you saw the fat wad of cash in his hand. He smirked, watching your hand hesitate back and forth as you were unsure whether to accept it.

Before him, you weren’t wealthy.

The opposite, really.

You were barely making ends meet and every penny you had was spent on living essentials and rent. The money he offered you was enough for more than that. He was handing you the option to live a little. But before you could take it, before you could fully grasp the bank notes in his hand, he flicked his wrist away.

“I want your number for the pleasure of this expensive meeting.” he grinned.

In hindsight, it was incredibly stupid to accept money from a yakuza man. It seemed like too good of an offer to turn down, though.

For the pleasure of knowing Sukuna and that chance meeting, there have been ups and downs. Everything you knew before Sukuna is your old life. You can’t remember the last time you saw those friends you had. You haven’t been back to your old apartment in over a year, though you know Sukuna still pays the rent on it.

It’s used for some kind of illegal activities, you’re sure. You don’t know why else he’d still pay for it otherwise.

Your old clothes weren’t good enough for you anymore. That’s how Sukuna felt. And with each extortionate purchase he made, you began to agree. You can no longer bear the thought of wearing some cheap, discounted item like you used to. Your entire wardrobe is designer, and you’re like a new woman.

If anyone from your past could see you now, they wouldn’t recognise you.

You don’t care, though. You’ve been poor and you’ve been miserable. What Sukuna gave you that day wasn’t just money, it was an opportunity to cast the old you aside. You’re glamorous, you’re taken care of.

But most importantly, you’re loved.

You’re an object, a doll for him to play with.

But he loves you.

It’s apparent in the way you are in private together. He can be so many things in so many ways. But you know that you are more loved by him than you’ve ever been in any other relationship. He loves you more than friends and family combined.

To Sukuna, you’re everything.

“Listen. Up.” he starts. You know he doesn’t mean you. He wouldn’t mind if you kept your nose buried in your tacky magazine for the entire day. And yet, you find yourself closing it and putting it down on the desk in front of you. Your sole focus is on him. “My wife and I have better things to be doing than sitting here listening to this shit. Figure out this territorial dispute, today, or I’m going to lose my patience.”

His wife.

Everyone’s eyes fall on you when he refers to you as such, and it takes every ounce of concentration and sheer will power to stop yourself from smiling. Your face remains straight and composed, but there are two men who know you enough to see through the façade.

Sukuna, and his brother.

The elder of the two looks down at you, only because he loves to see you squirm because of him. And he’s proud of you, oh so proud that you are well behaved and know that you should appear as strict as he is.

Yuuji, however, has to turn away so no one can see how much he wants to laugh. He’s always liked you; he likes that his brother likes you and he likes how nice you are when you warm up to people. People like him. He’s gotten to know you through being his brother’s second in command. If Sukuna can’t be by your side, Yuuji will be.

And he thinks it’s cute, really, how much you love his big brother. The big brother that most would see as nought more than a terrifying monster. A murderer and a fiend who can so easily ruin lives just because he feels like it.

Yuuji thinks it’s downright adorable.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts when his big brother whistles. He watches as you hurriedly stuff your magazine back into your handbag and follow him to the exit. Yuuji follows, too, after his brother gives him a commanding look.

“You shouldn’t lie.” you mutter, leaving the room and walking by Sukuna’s side as Yuuji trails behind you both. Sukuna turns his head sideways so he can look down at you. His tattooed hands remain in his pants pockets as you approach the exit of the building. You keep looking forwards, though. And he smirks.

It’s a cute little pout he recognises.

“You are my wife.” he tells you. “Don’t be a brat because I haven’t proposed, how droll.”

You scoff, finally looking at him, your full glossy lips seem to pout even harder when you actually face him.

“You know what happens when you get married for real, princess?” he asks. And you scoff, again, because you know what he’s going to say. He says the same thing every time you have this truly trite conversation. “Boring sex. And then, none at all. And I know you can’t live without this cock in you for too long.”

“You’re disgus—”

“Speaking of which,” he stops walking and turns to face you. It makes you laugh every time he talks about how boring your sex life would be if you got married. You aren’t sure how true it is, but it amuses you, nonetheless. He gets his wallet from his inner breast pocket and withdraws his credit card, handing it to you with a wide smile on his face. “That’s what you get when you’re a good girl. Thank you.” he grabs the crown of your head with a large palm and plants a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“I thought we were talking about sex, not money.” you speak, and he smiles. “Which do you think I prefer?”

“With me, sex. In general, money.” he tells you, and you suppose he’s right. “But with money, you can buy things for sex. Unless you want to be a brat, I can take back the card. Otherwise, buy a pretty set for daddy to fuck you in.”

He loves how your demeanour changes at the use of your favourite name for him when you’re alone. Yuuji is here, yes, but he knows the intricacies of your relationship so there’s no need to be concerned.

“Theeeere she is, daddy’s good girl.” he approaches you; his hand settles on your waist. A simple cue for Yuuji to know he doesn’t want to be here. He walks on ahead; and you both watch him walk by before focusing on each other again. He backs you up until your shoulder blades rest against the wall. You tilt your head to kiss him, but he pulls his head back to tease you. “Why aren’t you always a good girl for me?” he wonders.

You allow your head to loll back against the wall with a gentle thud. He watches you, intently, wondering what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. His eyes drop as your right hand gently traces over his crisp black dress shirt until you find his tie.

And you tug.

His body cages you in and you will never get over what a behemoth of a man he is. He’s so intimidatingly large. You’re like a little mouse about to be devoured by a viper. And yet, somehow, you’re in control. He gasps, albeit quietly, but there is pleasure behind it as you pull him closer.

“You’d be so bored if I was always good, daddy. And you fuck me better when I’m a brat for you.” you tell him, voice filled with lust as your sultry tones reach his ears. His cock twitches at your words, although he’s tired of you having the upper hand. One hand grabs your jaw, and you know if he wanted to, he could break it with ease. But you smile, willingly.

If you are to die, it would be an honour by his hand.

He kills you with a kiss, instead. Your thoughts dissipate as you allow your lips to lock and teeth to clash as you needily make out. His body presses into yours, uncaring for the place or potential audience that could find you at any moment. A soft, needy moan slips by your lips as you feel his hardening bulge grind between your legs. It makes him smile, smugly and proud as he steals continuous little noises from you.

“You only keep your fucking mouth shut when you’re getting this dick.” he comments, his tongue licks against yours before he suffocates your desperately mewling with heated kisses once again. He pulls away, whispering in your ear. “You’re nice ‘n wet for daddy, yeah? Want my cock, baby?”

“Mhmm…” you nod, raising your leg to rest on his hip. His fingers squeeze into the flesh of your thigh as he helps it settle in place. His kisses are barely there anymore. Soft pecks as he gradually pulls away until you’re whimpering and begging for more. “Please, daddy… please.”

“Awe,” he gives you one final kiss before looking over his shoulder to see some of the higher ranked members of his organisation approach. He pulls away, leaving you completely breathless. “Brats don’t decide when their holes get used. Their daddy’s do.” he reminds you.

You’re left panting with your hand on your chest as he walks away. He looks over his shoulder at you before giving you a self-satisfied smirk as he waves at you.

“Keep your cunt wet for daddy.” he tells you.

You scoff, fleeing the scene quickly as the humiliation of his words surges through you. The lack of respect and discretion should make you furious. And honestly, it does. But that feeling of anger and fury is overridden with pure, unadulterated lust.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” Yuuji asks as you walk through the double doors and out into the blaring summer sun. The heat is unbearable, you’re sure the sidewalk would steam if you poured water onto it. “Are you okay? Thirsty? Can I carry your jacket?” Yuuji wonders. And you nod.

“Thanks, Yuu.” you smile, taking off your coat for him to hold for you. “You’re taking care of me again, I guess.” you sigh, but try to remain optimistic. You both know you’d rather Sukuna be the one taking you shopping, but you don’t hate spending time with his brother.

“What are we shopping for today?” he asks, opening the door to his car for you to climb into. He puts your coat in the back and rushes around to driver’s seat. “You can go crazy since he won’t be there to stop you.” he winks. You giggle a little as he buckles himself in and starts the car. “Oh, he wanted you to get some lingerie, right?”

You go quiet, looking down at your hands as you nod quickly. It’s almost unnoticeable, but Yuuji knows. He starts driving to a boutique he knows you like, smiling to himself. You’re so brazen and loud most of the time. You can be so confident and fearless.

But he thinks it’s sweet that you get so shy about things like this.

“I’m not judging you, y’know.” he tells you, looking to the side to see if you’re listening. You raise your head to look at him, the slight anxiety you feel slowly leaves your body the longer you look at him. “You’re a good friend to me. I’m happy Sukuna met you, otherwise I wouldn’t know you.”

“Yuuji…” you respond, you can’t stop yourself from smiling as you hear his sweet words. It makes him laugh, though. He’s happy he managed to break you out of your nervous sulk. “I wonder sometimes… if I’m crazy.”

“You are.” he tells you. You lightly slap his arm, “Hey, I’m driving!” he laughs. “You have some kind of arrangement with my brother, right? That doesn’t matter. You love him, don’t you? I know he loves you too. He’s told me enough, and I can see it in his eyes. You’re crazy, but he is too.”

An arrangement.

You’re happy it’s a secret, even to Yuuji. If anyone from your past life knew what you agreed to with Sukuna, they’d be ashamed. You figure anyone would be, really. But you don’t care. Yuuji is right.

Sukuna is crazy.

But so are you.

“Thanks, Yuuji.” you smile, weakly. “You’re a good friend to me, too.”

Sukuna is possessive, he’s greedy.

But what Sukuna doesn’t know won’t hurt him. You model a few lingerie sets to his little brother. And Yuuji, of course, is a perfect gentleman about it. His eyes rake over your body, though you can detect a lack of lust in him. There’s another woman on his mind that you know to be the reason. He’s a lovesick puppy, and you are off limits. He isn’t stupid, but he’s happy to help you shop.

Sukuna should be the one here with you now, anyway. He should be the one watching you try on panties and bras and pretty baby dolls. And yet, he’s sent you away to give himself some peace while he works on whatever the hell it is he does all day. Threatening and being a general bastard to the city at large.

If he were here, you know you’d be getting fucked within an inch of your life in every pretty ensemble you try on.

“Yuuji, what is your brother doing today?” you ask him, pouting a little. It feels humiliating to have to ask. You should know where your boyfriend is and who he’s with. Even Yuuji looks taken aback. Does Sukuna often keep you in the dark? It’s not like what he does for a living is some big secret.

“… There’s a huge territorial dispute right now…” he starts, looking at the store clerks and urging them to walk away if they know what’s good for them. They do, giving you two the space to talk. “He and the other higher ups are having a follow up meeting to decide what to do.”

You huff and start to undress as you head back into the changing room.

“Uraume?” you wonder, already knowing the answer. “Is she there?”

“Well, she’s Sukuna’s right hand. After me, obviously.” he tells you, and it only earns another huff of annoyance from you.

You know what Sukuna will want is for you to pick a pretty lingerie set to wear under your clothes all day until he gets home. You’re not doing that, though, not now. Not when you know he’s with her. He’s lucky you’re even still buying any in the first place. Yuuji watches you as you tell the staff to ring you up, a look almost akin to sorrow lingering in his soft brown eyes.

“Nothing is going on between them, y’know.” he tries to assure you. All you can do is scoff. The notion of remaining silent dies as you begin to think about how many positions he’s probably fucking her in while you run around and play the role of the oblivious wife.

A wife without a ring, at that.

“No offence Yuuji, I’m not exactly going to take your word for it. He’s your brother.” you sigh. He grabs the shopping bags for you once you pay the extortionate price. Sukuna had told you to get a set, not several. But you think it’s the least you deserve after finding out he’s with Uraume instead of you. “I want some new jewellery, let’s go.”

You hold the door open for Yuuji before you walk side by side towards the nearest jewellery store. Sukuna’s feelings are the least of your concern, whether he’s frustrated with your purchases or not doesn’t matter to you. Not right now. You’re hellbent on giving his credit card a workout before you go home.

The air conditioning hits you as you enter. Yuuji finds a seat as you begin to browse, dumping your shopping bags by his feet. He keeps a watchful eye on you as you’re shown around at some pieces you might like. A necklace is calling your name, but new earrings would be nice, too. But with the way you’re feeling, you might just leave with everything that you take even the vaguest of interest in.

You hear Yuuji’s phone ring behind you, and it forces you to look at him expectantly. It’s embarrassing, really, how badly you’re hoping it’s Sukuna to ask for your location so he can be here with you. But his younger sibling shakes his head despondently, feeling sad that he’s letting you down.

“Shit, I have to go.” Yuuji tells you, and your brows furrow. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been left alone. What could be so important? He looks at you, eyes serious and almost desperate as he wills you to listen to him. “I won’t be long, please don’t leave. Sukuna will kill me if anything happens to you.”

“It’s fine, Yuu.” you nod, barely looking at him anymore as you admire the glimmering jewels in their glass display cases once more. “I’ll be here.”

He smiles, gratefully, and squeezes your shoulder. His speed is impressive, you’re surprised you haven’t been left with a dust cloud as he leaves your side and departs the store. You have no idea what’s happening, but it must be serious if Yuuji had to rush off like that.

The clerk assisting you can’t help but fawn over how gorgeous you look as he allows you to try on a diamond necklace that caught your eye. It’s simple, something you’d wear every day. It’s glamorous but not overstated.

“There are matching earrings, if you’re interested.” the clerk tells you, and you nod. “And there’s—”

“If it matches, I’ll take it all.” you smile. The clerk nods and takes the necklace from you. You watch for a few minutes as he wanders around and collects everything you’ve asked for, but you soon get bored and begin browsing again.

You raise your head as you see two men with black hair enter. You unintentionally stare, but soon avert your gaze when another necklace catches your eyes. You hear the men discuss something about a sister, and you deduce they are likely here to purchase gifts. You feel your blood run cold as they become silent, and you feel them glaring at you.

You’ve gotten a sense of when people are sizing you up, now. Even if it’s something as tedious as being leered at. Being with Sukuna has taught you to sense danger, however small.

“I’d like this necklace as well, please.” you speak, hoping your confidence and signalling of the staff will get them to stop staring at you. The clerk nods and sends another member of staff to your side to aid you.

You look in the direction of the men. Truthfully, you aren’t sure if you had tried to warn them that you were onto them with a look their way. It seems like you’re more interested in scoping out a potential threat.

“It’ll suit you.” the younger one says. “Maybe we should get something like that for Tsumiki?”

The older man is silent.

Your skin tightens together, breaking out in goosebumps as his looming presence gets closer and closer to you. You clear your throat, hoping that it will be enough to tell him that you know he’s there and you don’t want him to be. It does little to dissuade him, though.

He stares at you, urging you to return it. There’s an uncomfortable yet palpable silence between the two of you as you look into each other’s eyes. His face is sculpted, yet damaged. And still, you find him beautiful. A scar stabs betwixt his lips, though it’s aged and healed.

It’s a warning, in itself, that you shouldn’t trust him.

But his gaze is serious and endearing all in one. His eyes are beautiful, just like the man he’s with. There’s no doubt, now, that they’re related. They’re like a copy of one another. Father and son, you suspect. Though they remind you of Sukuna and Yuuji. The man in front of your appears to be the same age as your lover, maybe a little older. Yuuji is around the same age at the young man accompanying him.

You find yourself lost in his eyes, an odd compulsion to figure out this man and his life story. Who is he and what could he want with you? Your guard has been lowered, despite it being unwise. You should be more alert, if anything.

But those eyes are—

“You’re staring, sweetheart.” he tells you, breaking his eyes away from you to look at the clerk behind you. He curls his finger, a simple instruction that you seem to miss until you see him holding the necklace in his hand. “May I?” he asks, acting before you even answer.

You turn around and make sure your hair isn’t in the way so he can put it on you. This isn’t right, you know it isn’t. You aren’t sure why you’re allowing him to do this. He’s so close that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck, the hairs stand on end when you realise.

He fastens the clasp behind your neck, and casually allows his hand to fall into the small of your back as he guides you to a nearby mirror.

“Suits you.” he tells you, tucking hair behind your ear so he can examine it further. You don’t miss the way his eyes drop to your cleavage, though, and you clear your throat again. It prompts him to slip back into his cool demeanour. “My daughter is around your age. Think she’d like it?”

“I don’t know your daughter. And I don’t know you.” you remind him, earning a soft chuckle from him. You watch him summon the man he brought with him, and now you’re sure he’s his son. After hearing him mention his sister, you manage to put the pieces together.

“I want two of these.” he announces, making sure everyone can hear. You aren’t sure if he’s instructing his son or the clerk beside you. Either way, he hands his credit card to the man he’s with in a similar way Sukuna does to you.

It’s almost… dismissive.

“Two?” you say, curiously.

“I’m buying yours.” he tells you. He shushes you when you go to protest. “You’re brave, hah? Big mouth, attitude, ‘n your pretty too. I like it.”

“I’m spoken for. And expensive things won’t—”

“I know.” he interrupts you, putting his hands in his pockets. He looks over to his son as he pays for the jewellery. You’re nervous, though it’s not entirely because of him. The thought of explaining this to Sukuna sends chills down your spine. “Girls like you are always spoken for. And he looks after you, yeah? Buys you nice things ‘n all that. Figures.”

“… Y-You didn’t tell me your name…” you say, meekly. It’s pathetic and wimpy, though that’s how you feel beneath his divine gaze. He smirks at the sound of your voice, maybe it’s the submission.

“Toji.” he replies, simply. His son approaches him with a single shopping bag, it’s black and sleek with the store logo on the side. It makes you excited and impatient to receive your own purchases. And after this, you have no desire to shop anymore. You want to get home where you know you’re safe. “We ought’a get goin’, Megs.” Toji tells his son, who nods in agreement.

Just as they’re about to leave, Yuuji returns.

He can’t say anything, not right away. If you were looking at him, though, you’d be able to see how much he wants to burst. There’s a vein bulging in his forehead as he looks between the men.

But your eyes are solely on Toji.

His hands remain firmly in his pockets as he walks away and towards the exit. And then he turns around again, fully, facing you head in to gift you with his parting words.

“Give Sukuna my regards, won’t you, sweetheart?” he smirks, leaving the store with his son in tow.

“Fushiguro!” Yuuji yells, though they pay him no mind. He faces you, now, intent on finding out what the hell is going on. “What was that all about? Are you stupid? Seriously stupid? I told you not to talk to anyone!”

“You didn’t, you told me not to leave.” you remind him, and he grunts. “Who were they, Yuuji? I’ve never seen either of them before.” you tell him. He just shakes his head and decides to ignore you. He’s furious, though you can’t figure out why.

Have you really done something so bad?

The fact that Toji seems to know who Sukuna is certainly doesn’t bode well. They’re from rival gangs, clearly. His and his son’s tattoos aren’t like Sukuna’s. His are brazen, confident. He was cocky enough to get them on his face, too. But the Fushiguro’s, as Yuuji had named them, must hide their markings beneath their shirts like most yakuza men tend to.

“Let’s go.” Yuuji speaks, anger lingering in his quiet words as he leads you out of the store and back to his car. “I’ll have to tell Sukuna about this…” he explains, making sure all of your shopping is secure safely in the trunk of his car. You get into the passenger seat and shrug, it makes no difference to you if he tells his brother about this.

You don’t even know what he’s telling him.

It gets later and later into the evening, with no signs of Sukuna returning any time soon.

And you’re ready for him.

You’re fully dressed, wearing the very same clothes you’d worn to go shopping hours earlier. But you had stripped briefly when you got to your room. The lingerie options were almost infinite as you peaked in each and every shopping bag you brought home from the boutique.

He’ll like the pink one most, you suspected.

So, you put it on.

“Where’s Sukuna?” your one and only true friend in this cutthroat world asks through the speaker of your phone. It snaps you from your daze as you recall how the pink lingerie fit your body like a God damn glove while you checked yourself out in the mirror. “You’re doing housewife shit while he’s out having fun?” Nobara continues, and it makes you scoff. There’s laughter in it, but your annoyance towards your lover is evident.

“He’s with Uraume.” you say, calmly, as you continue washing the mountains of dishes in the sink. You aren’t normally one to do chores, but you thought it would distract you from your worries. Even if only for a moment.

“Oh I hate her.”

“Me too.” you agree. Something tells you Nobara doesn’t feel as strongly as she’s making out, she’s just showing support. You appreciate it all the same, though. “There’s something going on… I know there is.”

“No way. You don’t know, you just think you do. But even I can see how much he worships you. He’d never cheat!” she says confidently, and you wish you could believe her. It’s not like you’d leave him, even if he was.

He’s conditioned you to need him, after all. How can you go back to your old apartment when it’s his, now? Your old, pathetically paying job won’t cut it, either. Sukuna has gotten you used to the finer things in life, things you don’t want to lose. Your friends, your family, it’s all gone and forgotten. All you have is him.

There’s no leaving him, now.

“… I don’t trust him, sometimes.” you confess, quietly. You aren’t even sure if she heard you over the sound of the gushing tap. “I don’t trust—”

The sound of a lock turning in the door stops you from speaking anymore. You look over your shoulder, and you finally see him. He doesn’t say a word as he comes in. He gives you a curt nod as he hangs up his jacket.

“Uh, Nobara, how’s your day been?” you ask, loudly, hoping she’ll get the hint and change the subject.

You tense up a little as you feel Sukuna’s presence looming closer and closer. You put down a plate as you feel him behind you. His body traps yours between his and the sink. You hold your eyes closed lightly as you feel him. Really feel him. You aren’t sure you’ll ever get over his domineering size.

Nobara begins to prattle on about nothing in particular, and relief flows through you. You manage to stifle a heavy breath as Sukuna begins to kiss your neck; though you almost falter as he takes your earlobe softly between his teeth.

“Sukuna, ‘m on the phone.” you angle your head to whisper, but he just silences you with a kiss instead. And instinctively, you’re smiling again. You’re so simple, maybe even stupid. It’s always so easy for him to placate you, even without knowing you’re upset with him.

“Don’t care,” he growls into your mouth, kissing you again. “You agreed, did you not?” he asks, feeling you up over your clothes. Your head droops back onto his shoulder as you feel him caress your tits through the fabric of your dress. His free hand roams between your legs, pushing the black material covering your thighs between them and dampening it with your slick.

“Mmpf,” you hum, lightly, biting your lip. You can’t help but wriggle and squirm beneath his touch. As much as you’d prefer to stop so you can wrap up what you’re doing first, you did agree to this when you started dating him.

“Anyway, I still don’t think Sukuna would fuck Uraume.” Nobara speaks, and you both freeze for a moment.

As she lists her reasons, in gratuitous detail, Sukuna’s hands move across your body. They’re slow, but with purpose. Your dress settles back into place once he moves his left hand away from your core. He wraps his arm around your midsection, tightly, giving you no chance to flee. His right hand moves a little quicker, fingers brush along your collarbone until he finds your neck. He somehow manages to choke you, slightly, while holding your jaw with his thumb and index finger.

And he makes you look at him.

He doesn’t speak, the sound of Nobara discussing everything you’ve told her about him and Uraume is the only sound either of you hear. His red eyes terrify you the longer it goes on. The longer he goes without speaking a word.

“’Kuna—”

“You’re jealous of Uraume?” he says, loud enough for Nobara to hear. She’s quiet. Uncharacteristically so. And then your heart plummets when you hear the beep that signifies the call has ended. “Still?”

“What do you— Sukuna!” you yell, feeling him pull your dress down your body. You try to scold him. You try to focus on finishing the dishes so you don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how desperately you crave him. But it’s all in vain as he spanks you upon seeing the pretty pink set hugging your body.

“Good girl.” he tells you, spanking you again.

The chore of washing cups and plates is soon abandoned as he yanks your hair by the roots. Your back arches gloriously, and he can’t help but slap your ass repeatedly until it stings. He wants to hurt you, just because he loves you.

He’s insulted that you think so little of him.

“What happened to you, princess?” he asks, spanking you again. “You never used to be so insecure. That’s what I liked about you.”

Liked?

“Don’t— c-care—”

“Oh?” he interrupts, “You really want to be a brat for me right now? I’m not in the mood, but you can test me if you’re feeling brave.” he warns you, and you manage to shake your head in defiance.

“Sukuna, I just— I don’t like her.” you tell him, you see an eyebrow raise out of the corner of your eye. It’s a curious look you can’t quite place. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to say something so honest, or maybe he just can’t put his finger on why you feel this way about her. “She has feelings for you… it’s so obvious.”

“And?” he speaks, his hand that had been around your throat moves to the bend of your knee. He effortlessly raises your leg so that it rests on the marble countertop. His breathing is heavy and stained with alcohol as it fans across your shoulder.

Your breath hitches as he hooks his finger into the seat of your panties, moving the pink material into the crease of your thigh. You shiver just slightly as the cool air of the air-conditioned room hits your folds, and he growls as he holds you tighter.

With one hand, he unbuckles his belt and manages to free his length from his trousers. You gasp as you feel him press his heavy tip between your folds, the tacky wet sound reverberates through the room. He isn’t targeting anywhere specific, but he snarls each time you mewl when he catches against your entrance.

“Unff— fu-uck!” you keen as he finally pushes into you.

“This,” he starts, slowly sinking inside of your welcoming slot. Your eyes roll over white with each agonising delve into your walls and towards your sweet spot. He spanks you once more, demanding your concentration as he tries to drill his words into your before he starts drilling his cock into you. “It’s all yours, y’hear me, princess?” he explains as he carefully rocks his hips, his chest swells with pride as he repeatedly nudges against your g-spot.

“S-Sukuna,” you pant. “Daddy, I love you.” you tell him, tears spill down your cheeks as you pathetically confess. He knows, of course he knows. But his ego will never tire of hearing those four precious words from the lips of his favourite girl.

“Yeah? Y’love daddy?” he asks, faux sympathy in his voice as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. “Hurts my feelings when you don’t trust me.” he lies.

“’m sorry,” you sob, “I trust you, daddy, ‘m sorry!” you continue, and you melt into his touch when you feel him softly kiss your cheek again and again as his thrusts get faster and faster and faster.

He’s so deep you can feel him in your throat. Your mind is churning, thoughts become liquid the harder and deeper he pounds into you. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he continues, and he shoves his fingers into your mouth to silence your cries.

You suck and lick and lave over them as if your life depended on it.

He forces your mouth open wide, strings of drool dribble from your lips and tongue as he repeatedly fingers dangerously close to your throat. He laughs maniacally when he flies to close to the sun, triggering your gag reflex.

“Oh, baby, got real tight for daddy like that.” he tells you. Your hands search for something, anything to grasp as he ruins you from the inside. “So fuckin’ tight for me, princess. Wanna cum?”

“Yes, yes please.” is what you’re hoping to say despite his fingers still invading your orifice. “Please daddy, n-need it.”

“Mmm, good fucking girl.” he praises you. “So needy, hah? I’ll be good to you this once. So cum.”

You brace yourself, twisting your torso so that you’re facing him. His fingers remain in your mouth, but your fixation on them has dies a slow, painful death the longer this encounter carries on. His fingering slows, but the spit leaking from your mouth still pools out and covers whatever it squelches on top of.

“Go on, cum for daddy.” he orders.

And you do.

You cream his length as you lose control of your entire body and give it to him. You’re crying so hard but you don’t know why. He licks your cheeks, though, getting off on the taste of the salt and sorrow you’re gifting him with. You convulse as you reach the peak of your orgasm, and he makes sure to keep a careful hold of you.

“Hate you being fucking jealous.” he explains as he chases his own high, the deafening sounds of your genitals meeting again is so sloppy and lewd. If you weren’t so tired, you’re sure your face would flush with heat from the embarrassment of it all. “You’re mine. I only fuck you. I only cum in this perfect cunt. Are you listening? Or did daddy fuck you too fucking stupid?”

“D-Daddy,” you mumble, “love you…” you trail off, exhaustion consuming you as you bargain with yourself to rest your eyes for just a minute.

“Daddy’s slutty girl, yeah?” he grunts, and he’s surprised that you manage to nod in response. “Only shut that big fucking mouth of yours when you’re getting this cock.” he speaks, he hopes you’re listening but he’s not so sure.

With only a few thrusts later, he’s cumming buckets into you. You hum at the sensation, the warmth of being gifted with your daddy’s load is a soothing feeling that makes you feel completely claimed. You’re safe, secure, like this. He plugs his cum inside of you for a while as he refuses to move.

You don’t want to think about the fact that you aren’t ever really going to know the truth. You won’t know if he’s just telling you what you want to hear while he’s out doing exactly what you’re worried about. You won’t truly feel safe unless Uraume goes.

But you know that will never happen.

He pulls out of you, watching as your pussy pulses while he splits open your lips on his fingers. His softening cock jumps at the sight of his sperm gushing out of you and splattering against the cold kitchen tiles below. He angles your body, again, so that he can plant a searing, messy kiss on your lips from behind.

He wipes his dick against your ass, doing a poor job of it before he tucks himself back into his grey trousers. He moves the gusset of your panties back where it belongs to stop anymore cum from dripping out of you.

“I should… clean up…” you say, wistfully as you look at the remaining dishes in the sink and the dollop of sperm on the ground beneath you.

“Don’t worry about it.” he tells you, walking towards your bedroom to find your shopping bags. “Show daddy what else you got today.”

You take a deep breath and stumble a little on unstable legs. He looks behind himself, reaching out to take your hand to support you. He leads you to your room, a little surprised by the amount of new shopping bags spread out.

He lifts you up and places you down carefully on the bed. You bite your lip as he helps you out of your high heels while he’s down on one knee. He watches, attentively, as you throw your head back as he kisses each of your legs.

“I don’t recall telling you to buy jewellery.” he speaks, knowing he didn’t say it at all. You only giggle, which makes his smile grow wider. He rests his body on his knuckles on either side of your thighs, his nose almost touching yours as he examines you. “That one is new, isn’t it?” he asks, reaching up to hold the pendant against his palm. You nod, and he hums.

He takes his time admiring everything as he looks through each and every bag. You’re silent as he searches, not sure what he’s actually looking to find. Sukuna seems pleased with the multitudes of lingerie you’ve returned home with, often looking between the material and yourself as he envisions it on your body.

Though soon enough, he’s looking through the jewellery. He’s full of flattery, for some reason. You can’t help wondering if it’s because of your very obvious insecurity.

Your heart sinks, however, when he picks up the receipt.

“W— uh, what are you doing?” you ask, cursing yourself for not playing it cool in the least.

He’s silent as he looks over each item and price. His eyes drift briefly to look at you before he’s fixated on the receipt again. “I’m checking how much having a bratty princess for a wife has cost me today.” he tells you, his voice almost monotone as he speaks. He picks up each piece of jewellery as he mentally checks it off of the list in his hand. And then his eyes zero in on you once more. Or specifically, the necklace you’re wearing. “Did you steal that?” he asks.

You shake your head.

If there’s one thing you’ve learnt from being with Sukuna, it will never serve you to lie. He knows more than you can possibly imagine. And what he doesn’t know, he figures out quickly.

“… I’m going to fucking kill him.” he speaks through gritted teeth, crumpling up the receipt in his hand. You have no idea who he’s talking about. He stands up, holding the necklace around your neck in a clenched fist. “Tell me, princess. Do you love this necklace? Or did you pick it impulsively?”

“Both,” you nod. “I was only looking at it because— b-but I love it, now.”

He lets go of the pendant, now warm against your skin after being in the palm of your lover despite it being brief. He smooths his hand over your hair and then strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“A lovely gift from a man trying to muscle in on my territory.”

You knew Toji must be yakuza, too. But you had no idea he was such a direct rival of Sukuna’s. It’s unsurprising, though. Maybe they’d been tailing you and Yuuji today. You’d assumed it was a coincidence that they wound up in the same store as you, but you’re no stranger to being naïve.

Sukuna’s territory…

Could he also be referring to you?

“Territorial disputes are standard practice in our line of work, Sukuna.” Uraume starts, trying her best to calm your boyfriend down as he seethes in yet another meeting. “Although she has certainly complicated things.” she speaks, looking at you as her tone becomes more calculated and vicious.

Of course to anyone else, it sounds like she’s just making a point.

But you know better.

“I didn’t complicate anything, thank you, Uraume. I went shopping as I was instructed to do and he just showed up.” you try to defend yourself maturely despite wanting to rip her hair from her scalp.

“No, this isn’t your fault.” Sukuna reassures you. “You shouldn’t have fucking left her you idiot!” he bellows, his voice booming through the room until it reaches his brothers ears. His words seem to echo the longer Yuuji remains silent. He doesn’t even get the chance to talk as Sukuna demands he be quiet. “More and more of them are doing shady shit in areas that I own. Making profit that should be mine. How do we—”

“Yuuji, you’re friendly with his son, right?” you ask. And he shrugs, passively. You’re sure there’s a story there. Perhaps they went to school together given that they’re the same age, but you don’t want to press it and risk him getting in deeper trouble with his sibling. “Do you have a phone number or anything for him?”

“Uh…” Yuuji pats down his body as he looks through his phone. Sukuna watches, everyone watches as he scrolls through his contacts. And finally, he nods.

“Call it.” Uraume orders, Sukuna looks at her and then nods at his brother in agreement.

The tension in the air can be cut with a knife as each ring passes. You feel sick to your stomach the longer it goes on.

Until finally—

“I was wondering when you’d call.” the younger Fushiguro answers, Yuuji places the phone down on the table and puts it on speaker. “My old man has an offer for your brother.”

“Megumi, Sukuna isn’t exactly the negotiating type.” Yuuji explains. “He wants you and your dad dead, to be honest. That shit you pulled at the jewellery store—”

“Is he listening?” Megumi asks. Yuuji looks up to his brother for permission to confirm or deny his presence. The silence lasts a beat too long, and Megumi figures it out for himself. “I’m with Toji, now.” there is a shuffling sound on the other end as he hands his phone over to his father. A large sigh rattles through the speaker, and then he finally speaks.

“Sukuna.” he starts.

“My brother is right, Zen’in, I don’t negotiate.” Sukuna speaks, announcing his presence to them finally. “There is no benefit to me letting you stake your claim on my territory. We’ve killed a few of your men already for your insolence and disrespect. You’ve no idea the lengths I will go to so that you will understand this threat isn’t empty. We won’t just be killing the small fry next time.”

He looks at Uraume, listening carefully as she warns him not to resort to threats of violence so soon. You look between them both, trying to gauge how he’ll respond. He only sighs, agreeing with her, before asking what the negotiation would entail.

“I want to fuck that little girlfriend of yours.” Toji says.

The room falls silent. Sukuna stares daggers at you for a few minutes as if it’s your fault he said something so outrageous. You look around uncomfortably, seeing everyone’s eyes have fallen on you.

You feel dirty.

You feel like a mere bargaining chip, an object for them to make a decision over.

“Everybody out.” Sukuna says, noticing your distress as you feel compelled to hang your head in shame. “NOW.”

Everyone scurries from the room, the only people that remain are yourself, Sukuna, his brother and Uraume. Your lover slams his palm, hard against the table before yelling down the phone at Toji.

“Are you FUCKING joking?” Sukuna shouts, Uraume tries to calm him down but it does little good. “In what world do you think I’d agree to something so stupid?”

You hear Toji chuckle, like he’s considering how to use his words and what he should say. He knows exactly what he wants to tell him in response, but he’s deciding if he wants to rile Sukuna up further or get straight to the point.

“I’ve heard rumours that you use her like a toy.” he starts, a smirk curls on his lip and his scar pulls along with it. You and Sukuna look at each other, wondering who could have found out about your lewd secret. “I’m not… unreasonable. If you comply, I’m willing to come to a binding agreement that we will keep clear of your turf.”

“… Hang up the phone.” Sukuna orders, and Yuuji immediately presses the big red button. Sukuna looks at you, eager to speak. And by his expression, whatever he wants to say seems fuelled by rage. But by a stroke of luck, Uraume intervenes.

“I think you should do it.” she starts. Sukuna directs his angry glare towards her, while you look at her in surprise. “We’ve all heard the rumours, it’s not a secret, Sir. I believe it’s called ‘free use’ yes?”

“Why is that relevant?” you ask.

“Well, you’re used to being used, no? Why is this any different. It would be for Sukuna, for all of us. I’m sure you’d be able to open your legs for a few minutes for the sake of peace.” she speaks, calmly, crossing one leg over the other as she leans back in her seat. You scoff, standing up to argue, but Sukuna splays out his hand and warns you to keep in line. “Sukuna, it’s just sex. You won’t have to pay them off, you won’t have to share your territory that we— that you have worked so hard for. A simple trade.”

He sighs as he looks between you both.

“It’s not that straightforward, at all.” Sukuna tells her. You hope he’ll elaborate but feel a little deflated when he opts to keep quiet instead. You feel comfortable with your so-called arrangement because you’re in love.

At least, that’s what you thought.

“A shame. You continue to be a useless disappointment in this organization.” she tells you. “If it were me, I’d do it.”

“Well, Uraume. It isn’t you. You know why?” you spit back, shoving by Sukuna with the intention of leaving when you’ve said your piece. “Because you are his subordinate. I am his wife.” and with that, you leave.

Uraume is unfazed, however, which would infuriate you more if you were around to see it. Instead you’re leaving with your handbag in tow. You’re stopped, however, when you reach the exit. Sukuna’s men are holding you hostage on his orders. He hasn’t followed you to see if you’re okay. He’s still talking to Yuuji and Uraume as you pace around an empty meeting room.

You’ve always hated this building. Every time you come for a meeting here you’re nauseated by an overwhelming mechanical smell. It’s the office supplies, you assume. The copy machines and printers whir all day and night, the perfect operation taking place to disguise Sukuna’s general misdeeds.

Around twenty minutes later, you’re no longer alone.

Sukuna enters the room and shuts the door behind himself. Your eyes water as you instantly read his expression. You know there’s another way, but he’s obviously made his decision. Uraume’s influence played a part, you don’t doubt.

“I don’t want to. I love you…” you cry. “She’s trying to—”

“Enough.” he silences you, curling his finger. A simple instruction for you to follow him. “I haven’t decided yet, come along.”

He brings you back to the meeting room where you were sitting earlier. He commands Uraume and Yuuji to leave, and they do, Yuuji leaves his phone behind so Sukuna can call Megumi’s phone again.

“I don’t want to share you.” he confesses, pulling you into his lap as he spins the phone in his hand. Each thud against the desk makes your anxiety spike. “Uraume is right, though. It’s a tempting offer for the sake of a few measly minutes.”

“I don’t want to fuck him, Sukuna.” you pout. “I can’t believe you’re even considering it! What if he’s lying and will keep asking to fuck me? I don’t want everyone to find out about it and think I’m some whore. Do you—” you stop, a large knot gets stuck in your throat as you try to remain composed. You feel sick to your stomach, and you hate that you even have to ask. “Do you even love me anymore… Sukuna…” you ask, lower lip trembling as you speak.

“I do, of course I still love you.” he tries to assure you, but it feels half-hearted at best. “I’d prefer you to make a decision; but I want it to be the right one. And remember, you agreed to let me use you. And I will use you for whatever purpose I desire, if that means letting other men use your cunt for the sake of peace… then…”

“’Kuna…”

“I’m talking now.” he stops you, grabbing your cheeks in his hand and squeezing until your lips pucker. “You better spread those pretty legs nice ‘n wide for daddy, I want you to make me proud.”

He lets go, slowly, and uses a single finger to call Megumi back.

It rings.

And it rings.

And it rings—

“You mull it over?” Toji answers, his cockiness radiating through the phone. “Who am I speaking to? Sukuna?”

“I’m here.” he answers, he bounces his thigh, a silent instruction for you to announce yourself. And, for him, you do. “We’ve thought about it.”

“And?” Toji speaks.

Sukuna looks up at you, expecting you to do the honours of answering. His face is stoic and it makes your heart sink. He really wants you to agree to this. This is the first time since you’ve been with him that’s he’s made you feel like the object you agreed to be, for him. You thought it was out of love. Maybe even respect.

You were a fool to think that, you see that now.

You take a deep breath, and your whole body shakes. Even the little breaths you take to steel yourself warble and you try and gain the confidence to tell Toji that you agree.

Sukuna agrees, you don’t.

“We’re not interested.” you tell him. Sukuna glares at you, and you swear you see flames licking through his pupils. You try to stand up, but you’re trapped. He holds you, tight, and you worry about what you’ve let yourself in for. “Sukuna, get off.” you try to warn him off quietly, but it only increases his grip.

He mutes the call, and fingers sink harshly into the fat of your hips as he lifts you up. You land on the large meeting table with a thud as he towers above you with a dangerous glint in his eye.

“You dare disobey me?” he starts. You flinch as he raises his hand, the rings on his fingers twinkle under the fluorescent lights in the room. He doesn’t hit you, and you can’t tell if that’s what he was considering. He’s never struck you before. But, thinking about it, you’ve never defied him before. He balls his hand into a fist, a singular finger breaking free as he points in your face. “I don’t think you understood me before. Did you get confused?” he asks, voice dripping with condescension as his eyes alternate between your shimmering eyes and tremoring lip.

You ignore him, you just stare at him as you wait for him to finish.

“Understand me now. You are mine. Your life, your clothes, the bed you sleep in? Mine. Your body is mine. Your cunt is barely yours, I own her.”

“You said the decision was mine to—”

“I said I want you to make the decision I’m telling you to make. I’m not giving you a choice, I was giving you the power to make the decision yourself. But I see now, you’re too dumb to make the right call without daddy’s help.”

You sniff, picking up the phone to your side and unmuting the call. You’re surprised Toji is still on the other end, perhaps he knew that you’d gone against orders and was waiting to hear your reconsideration. He doesn’t say a word, nor does Sukuna, as you continue to sniffle and gather your bearings.

“T-Toji?” you whimper, and you hear an amused breath on the other end.

“Yes, darlin’, I’m here.” he speaks. His voice is somewhat soothing given the circumstances. Your lovers fiery stare remains on you. He and your very own body are imploring you to make the decision he’s expecting of you. But your heart, your mind, tell you otherwise. If Sukuna kills you, so be it.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to sleep with you, I love Sukuna too m-much.” you whimper, tears cascade down your face as you look at him. Even after this, after how he’s spoken to you and what he’s trying to make you do, you can’t help but love him. Even his face softens as he hears your plea. Your utter devotion to him makes his heart skip a beat.

There may even be a slither of remorse behind his eyes.

“You’re a real good girl, aren’tcha? So loyal… It’s hard to find girls like you.” Toji responds, and it snaps Sukuna out of his daze. The looming anger returns as he realises you’ve ignored direct orders twice now. “Tell ya what… Sukuna, you still there?”

“… I’m here.” he responds, slouching down in the seat he’d been sitting in previously. It’s odd, looking down at him like this. He looks deflated, like he doesn’t know how to handle you. Maybe he does still love you, after all. He doesn’t want to hurt you or kill you, he’s wrestling with it. If you were like his subordinates you’d be dead already.

He doesn’t know what to do with you.

“Princess, would you feel better if Sukuna was there?” he asks. You both look at each other, unsure of what he’s getting at. The idea infuriates Sukuna. Why on earth would he want to sit like some cuck while one of his enemies rails his girlfriend? “I don’t need you to myself, I just want to fuck you.”

“Um… oh.” you speak, the penny finally dropping. “I like that better.” you confess.

“Mm, I’ll bet.” Toji smirks. “Alright, I’ll make arrangements.”

“Go find Yuuji and go home.” Sukuna whispers as Toji continues to speak. He barely looks at you as you slide off the desk. So you don’t even bother saying goodbye. You’re still so fucking angry at him for all of this. But, really, you can’t help but feel like he isn’t pulling the strings here.

Not really.

You find Yuuji outside vaping, and he chokes when he sees you. He desperately attempts to swat the plume of smoke away, but it’s too late. You take the device from his hand and drop it on the ground.

“Enough.” you tell him, crushing it beneath the chunky platform and heel of your boot while looking him dead in the eye. “Stop buying them.”

“Sorry.” he chuckles. “Want me to take you home?”

“Yes,” you sigh. “The long way… if you don’t mind.”

He nods, understandingly.

Maybe you chose the wrong Itadori to fall in love with.

You hadn’t realised how close Toji’s apartment is to yours and Sukuna’s. You never even knew he existed until a few days ago. And yet, now, you’re in the elevator on your way up to the penthouse suite.

The preparation into this night, which you’re sure will amount to a few grunts and thrusts from each of them before they’re panting and bored, has been substantial.

Sukuna agreed to let Toji cover the cost of everything, which surprised you. Sukuna is a proud man, he’s proud of himself and the money he makes. And he’s especially proud of his possessions.

Most of all, you.

You’ve been accompanied by Yuuji and Megumi for the last week everywhere you go. And they’ve bickered about everything.

As you were sitting in the hair salon earlier, Yuuji insisted upon how Sukuna would like your hair to look, whilst Megumi argued about what Toji would prefer.

They argued when they took you clothes shopping about what kind of outfit you should wear. They argued about what colour lingerie you should wear. Hell, they even argued about what perfume would be best.

You didn’t have the energy to intervene, however, not when it feels like your world is crumbling around you. You’ve lost Sukuna, you think. You aren’t sure how or when it happened, but you don’t see love in his eyes anymore. And it’s a fool’s gambit to try and force that love back.

Now, you’re just a toy he’s grown tired of.

The elevator stops with a ding as you reach the top. Your stomach is doing somersaults, and you’re a little taken aback as Sukuna takes your hand in his. The reassuring squeeze he offers calms you immensely as he leads you out directly into the apartment.

“Welcome.” Megumi greets you both. He gestures to a bottle champagne and three pre-poured flutes filled with the gorgeous, bubbly liquid. You don’t notice until you get closer that there’s even strawberries drowning in the glasses. “Make yourselves at home, he won’t be long.” Megumi speaks, gesturing to the modern staircase that leads upstairs.

And with that, he leaves. He enters the elevator and waves as the doors shut, taking him all of the way to the ground floor. You can’t help but wonder where he’s going. Maybe, despite all of the bickering, he and Yuuji are planning to go out and have fun together while their bosses are occupied.

You feel sick.

Everyone’s going to find out about this. Everyone is going to have you down as a slut who trades her body for the sake of gang disputes. The naïve nature within you is telling you that this is a one time thing. That you made the choice and you only made it because there is something so alluring about Toji.

But, really, after this… you fear that you may be better off dead.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Toji speaks as he announces himself, slowly descending the stairs as he drinks you in. His shirt is open, revealing his glorious body beneath. Each move he makes is teasing, only subtly showing off his musculature that glistens beneath. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” he tells you.

His hand settles on your hip as he kisses your cheek. It’s gentle, yet forceful, and it lasts a beat longer than you had expected. The feeling of his lips is cemented against your face, and it takes every ounce of willpower that you have to not hold your cheek longingly.

“Glad you could make it, both of you.” Toji expresses, looking at Sukuna briefly before focusing on you again. He can’t get enough of you. He can’t stop ogling your perfect body in the skintight, chocolate coloured dress you’re wearing. The way your breasts slightly spill over the bust, the way the plunge shows the perfect amount of cleavage, the way a huge slit down the side perfectly showcases one of your legs and teases the treasure at the apex of your thighs.

He picks up two glasses, handing them to you and Sukuna, before grabbing his own.

“To peace.” he smirks. Sukuna chuckles and repeats his sentiment, though you’re silent. You aren’t exactly proud of yourself for doing this for the sake of peace.

But at the very least, you might have a little fun. You take a small sip, while Sukuna and Toji’s glasses are bare. Toji tops them up, and they chat as if they’re old friends.

“I’m sure you didn’t invite us over just to make nice, Zen’in.” Sukuna comments, and Toji laughs but nods. Sukuna sets down his champagne flute, tilting your head up by your chin with two dominant fingers. “She won’t object to anything. Isn’t that right, princess?” he asks, and you nod.

Toji finishes his drink again, circling around you both to stand behind you. Sukuna sits down, already pouring his third drink of the evening as he watches how you choose to behave. You’re not going to defy again, though. Not when you agreed of your own accord.

Your gaze narrows as your eyelids become heavy from Toji’s presence behind you. He softly gropes and manhandles every inch of your body. And even the areas you wouldn’t normally consider sensitive have you shuddering under his touch.

He attacks your exposed thigh, dragging the back of his nails upwards towards your pussy as his teeth lightly graze your pulse point. You emit a vociferous moan as his fingers splay outward, his digits barely breaching the material of your dress and yet somehow stimulating your immediately drenched cunt.

“I think she likes me.” he sighs against your skin, maintaining complete eye contact with Sukuna as he feels you up. “This dress was made for you, baby.” he tells you, kissing softly behind your ear.

“Look,” Sukuna starts, standing up as he looms above you. He pulls down the bust, revealing the black mesh bra underneath. Your nipples are barely covered, perfectly visible to all eyes in the room. He cups your breasts, and his thumbs repeatedly swipe over the raised buds. “They’re so hard, princess. Is this exciting you?” he asks.

You nod, dumbly. He captures your lips in a deep kiss and you moan into it. Toji reaches forwards over your shoulder, grabbing a handful of your tit as he squeezes the flesh and lightly flicks the nipple. His other hand settles in the curve of your hip, and you yelp slightly into Sukuna’s mouth as he pulls you backwards against his body.

“Feel how hard you’re makin’ me already, darlin’?” he asks, sharp canines nipping lightly against your bare neck as he pants shallowly against your skin. “Haven’t even touched your pussy yet and I’m aching. Haven’t even seen your fuckin’ panties.”

“Strip her, go on.” Sukuna orders. He backs away as he allows Toji to move you wherever he desires.

You gasp as you feel him move you with ease until your bent over the countertop, your face turns to the side to face Sukuna and the bucket of champagne. You’re distracted by the water droplets slowly traversing down until you hear Toji gnarl against the nape of your neck.

You can’t help but whimper when you feel him repeatedly kiss your bare skin until he reaches the zip of your dress. Sukuna stares into your eyes. Watery, eager eyes that are still focused on him without him even touching you. The red irises that own you and your every move, Toji was right, you are a good loyal girl.

Toji takes the zip between his teeth and pulls downward until the dress shucks from your body, it starts to pool at your feet, but still clings to your waist. Sukuna helps yank it downwards, while Toji lands a harsh strike against your supple rear. He whistles at the sight of your flesh jiggling, repeating the action on the opposite cheek just to see it again.

“Do you know how to use that mouth, princess?” Toji asks, and you nod.

“She knows how to talk shit with it.” Sukuna informs him, and Toji smirks. “But she gives good head, too. Get on your knees.” Sukuna tells you.

And you drop like a stone in front of Toji, you’re sure your knees will be red raw from the uncomfortable landing. You watch Toji with complete focus as he unbuckles his belt. Your eyes stay on his, getting the perfect view of his defined abs and large pecs as you stare up at him. The metal of his belt echoes through the room as he throws it in Sukuna’s direction.

You’re awestruck when Toji’s length is revealed. He’s beautiful. You don’t even realise you’re drooling until the bubbly liquid drips down and splats against your hand. He’s huge. Sukuna is too, but Toji might have him slightly bested. His cock curves upwards, and you can’t help squirm as you think about it hitting all of the right spots inside of you.

His pubic hair is trimmed perfectly. You wonder if he usually keeps himself groomed or if he only did it for this occasion. His tip is gorgeous. A slightly more blush pink in comparison to the rest of his cock. And it’s oozing. It’s shimmering with pre, the tip is completely covered and some of his length below is coated too.

“I’m gonna kill you if you keep staring at his cock like that, princess.” Sukuna warns you. You look at him, worry stabbing through your eyes before Toji grabs your jaw and forces you to focus on him again. He bends down, his face dangerously close to yours.

“He might kill you later, but I’m gonna kill you now if you don’t hurry and put that pretty mouth to work.” he snarls. You nod, widening your mouth to accommodate his girth. He groans, passionately, as his tip hits against your restrictive throat. “Fuuuuuck, good girl.”

You hold his hips as you attempt to take him deeper and deeper into your mouth. Your jaw already hurts, you feel like you might need the ability to unhinge it like a snake just to take him. It’s a similar experience with Sukuna, though he doesn’t make you suck him off often. He prefers your cunt, he doesn’t like to waste time on foreplay normally.

Only if he’s particularly stressed.

“You’re right, she’s a good little cocksucker.” he tells Sukuna as he praises you. He lightly combs his fingers through your hair with one hand before he forcefully shoves you to take his full length. And you cry out, you sob, and he slightly pulls out before shoving back in. “Are you gonna sit and watch me face fuck your toy?” Toji asks, earning a scoff from Sukuna.

He bends down, picking up the belt Toji discarded as he approaches. “Watch.” he orders. You gasp as Toji sets you free so that you’re true lover can take over. He wraps Toji’s belt around your neck but doesn’t completely fasten it, giving them both the freedom to tug and choke you into submission if needs be.

Sukuna removes his own belt, handing it to Toji to do with whatever he pleases. You whimper as he pulls your wrists behind your back, tying them together with the uncomfortable leather binding.

He pulls out his cock, slapping you lightly across the face with it as you wait patiently with your tongue hanging out. You mewl at he taps his tip against your tastebuds, the taste of his pre instantly permeates your senses.

Two hands settle on either side of your skull as he sinks his cock into your drooling mouth. He throws his head back, groaning as he slots in comfortably. He wastes no time, thrusting into your mouth again and again until you’re sputtering and sobbing.

“She cries easily, huh?” Toji drawls as he strokes himself.

Sukuna nods, forcing you down all of the way to the base until you’re choking. You can’t even steady yourself anymore with your wrists being bound. You can’t breathe and you can’t push away. He pinches your nose when you remember you can breathe through it, suffocating you completely.

“Aw, what’s wrong darlin’? Not gonna break so soon, are ya?” Toji asks, grabbing the makeshift collar and leash around your neck as he softly pulls. But he lets go as Sukuna frees you from his malicious clutches.

They both laugh as you cough and sputter, collapsing into a heap on the ground as you try and get your breath back.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” Sukuna asks. He picks you up with ease, and you’re soon bent over the counter again. But, this time, your feet don’t touch the ground. You’re left there, powerless to their touch with your ass perfectly raised while your feet and legs dangle helplessly over the edge.

Toji spreads your ass apart, and the stickiness sounding through the room is deafening. He sneers when it hits his ears. “She’s lying.” he spanks you, hard. And then his fingers toy between your pussy lips, making a complete and utter mess of your panties. “Do you like old men picking on you, hm? You must do. Can you feel how sloppy this cunt is, princess?” he asks.

You whimper out apologies, though they don’t seem to be interested. Toji picks you back up, throwing you over his shoulder as he carries you towards the stairs. Sukuna follows, a wicked grin on his face as he observes your tear-stricken face.

“Does she like anal?” Toji wonders.

“She likes whatever I tell her to like.” Sukuna laughs. “Would you like that, baby? Should we use both of your pretty holes?”

“Can’t wait to tear these fuckin’ panties off ya.” Toji explains. “Dunno why you bothered coming here with clothes on. Should have come bare, with a bow on your head.”

You enter Toji’s bedroom. And it’s gorgeous. It’s so sleek and stunning and there’s even a fireplace crackling away. The atmosphere is romantic, but this situation is hardly that.

Sukuna strokes your cheek, a subtle check to make sure you’re okay as he looks into your eyes. You nod, discreetly, before he slips his thumb between your teeth. You bite down, softly, and he can’t help but smile.

“Think this is the quietest she’s ever been,” Sukuna starts. He massages his thumb into your tongue, and you can’t help but instinctively suck. “Bein’ so good for daddy tonight.” he praises you.

“Daddy, huh?” Toji smirks, taking two fistfuls of your panties between his hands and tears them apart carelessly. “Hope you’ll call me that, sweetheart.”

You look to Sukuna for permission, and he nods. “Just this once.”

“Real pretty girl when you’re suckin’ on somethin’.” Toji comments. He sits on the bed beside you, lifting you up abruptly to sit on his lap. He unhooks your bra and Sukuna seamlessly breaks the straps between heavy fists, ripping it quickly from your body without undoing your bindings. “Suck ‘em while I play with this sweet little cunt.” Toji groans against you as he pulls your back flush against his chest.

Sukuna lightly slaps your tits before walking away. You watch him as he takes a seat in the corner of the room, and he’s become exactly what he hadn’t wanted to. He looks unfazed, though. He seems to be enjoying it if anything. He pulls a cigar from his inner breast pocket along with a lighter, he rests his ankle on his knee as he watches Toji toy with you.

“Watch him, want him to see how good I make you feel.” Toji whispers. He presses two fingers into your mouth slowly. The metal of his rings clang against your teeth, but you don’t care. You wish you could hold his hands as you suckle and lap at his digits. Though you’re broken from your efforts as he starts to circle your clit. “Mmm, such a messy pussy.” he comments.

You wriggle and squirm even with such little pressure applied to your clit. He runs his fingers through your folds, teasing your hole only slightly before he massages your swollen clit again and again.

“—addy!” you whine, unable to sit still as he torments you.

“Hear that? She called me daddy.” Toji chortles, looking at Sukuna. He smirks, but again seems more unfazed than anything. You almost screech around his fingers as he finally inserts his other digits inside of you. As if they weren’t already thick, more metallic rings seem determined to push your pussy to the limit. “You’re gonna make a mess f’me. Alright? Don’t fight me.”

He inserts a third finger between your lips, your mouth contorts and stretches uncomfortably, and still, you suck.

He digs around inside of you like he’s searching for something in particular. And when your legs begin to jolt and quiver, he deduces he’s found it quick enough. His ministrations are almost evil as he alternates between hard and slow fingering. It’s so intense, so excruciating that you can barely concentrate on his fingers in your mouth.

“Can’t see your face, baby. You still with us?” he asks, and you can only offer a barely intelligible response. Sukuna leans forward in his chair as he smokes, uncaring for where he flicks the ash. It’s the last thing on Toji’s mind, too. Especially when you’re already losing consciousness like this. “They’re just fingers, darlin’. Gonna go stupid for my cock if you can’t even handle this.” he laughs.

“Slap her cunt.” Sukuna tells him. And soon enough Toji is landing a hard enough spank to your puffy clit. You mewl, so he repeats it. Again and again. Harder and harder. “Finger her, I’ll do it.”

Toji puts his fingers back inside of your tight walls and finds that spot again. Sukuna lords above you, cigar resting between the gentle bite of his teeth as he spanks your cunt hard. It makes you dizzy, almost delirious. The conflicting feelings of pain and pleasure make your eyes water.

“Crying again.” he says as he spanks your pussy again. “Who knew two cocks would make you so obedient and submissive?”

“And we haven’t even fucked her yet.” Toji reminds him, and he smirks. “I should have invaded your turf a long time ago if I knew it would get us here.”

“Hm,” Sukuna hums. Your breath hitches, and he raises an eyebrow in suspicion. “She’s going to cum. Is she getting tight?”

“Like she’s gonna break my fingers.” Toji smirks. And with a few more spanks against your clit as Toji continuously batters his fingers into your g-spot, you’re cumming harder than you ever have in your life. Sukuna doesn’t move away as he feels you douse him with the thick stream shooting from your cunt. “Oh fuck. You’re a little squirter, huh. Or a big squirter, look at the fuckin’ mess you made of us, dirty girl. Told ya you would.” he teases you, not letting up on your insides as he tries to draw every last drop of your arousal from you.

It's not like it’s the first time you’ve squirted.

But you’ve never squirted that much before.

Your mouth is free as Toji pulls out his fingers, and you feel a chill as he wipes your saliva against the column of your spine. You’re surprised when you feel him undo the belt keeping your wrists together. And you’re even more surprised as he helps you straddle him properly.

He squeezes your ass as you begin to rut your hips against his cock, the tip catches against your hole as he holds cups your cheek and offers you a showstopping, tongue tangling kiss. You yelp as Sukuna yanks your hair until your vision is his face at an almost upside down angle. He spits in your mouth, crudely, before releasing your hair.

You don’t bother swallowing it as Toji brings you back to him and locks his lips with yours. He couldn’t care less that Sukuna had spat in your mouth. You’d already sucked his cock, what did it matter to him?

“You’re so well trained, princess.” he smirks. He stands up, and you instantly wrap your legs around his waist. He places you flat against the bed, nibbling on your collarbone before he nips and kisses downward. Further and further and further. “Let daddy taste you.” he demands, and you nod.

Sukuna holds your underarms and pulls you until your head droops backward, lolling over the edge of the mattress.

You wince as he slots his cock between your lips again, and he loosens the tightness of the belt still around your neck. The slight choking feeling is replaced with his hand, intent on feeling your throat bulge from the broadness of his cock.

Your legs cramp around Toji’s head as he gets to work feasting on your folds. If not for Sukuna’s length stuffing your throat, you’d be screaming at the way he suctions his lips around your clit. He licks and sucks again and again until your mind goes blank.

“That’s a good toy,” Sukuna chuckles darkly. “Stop thinking, now, we’ll do that for you.”

Toji can’t get enough of your taste. He can’t help but stroke himself as he pleasures you, and he grunts again and again against your heat. The fingers on his free hand sink into your doughy thighs. He’s doing all he can do to make sure you stay put. And he wants his face to be suffocated by your cunt.

Sukuna pulls out, determined not to cum this way. He’ll only cum if he’s doing so directly into your womb. He drops to his knees, helping you up a little so you can look down at the man about to give you your second orgasm of the evening. Your head sags against Sukuna’s broad shoulder, but you manage to look through barely open eyelids to see raven locks shaking and swaying as he lashes his tongue against your clit.

“’m gonna c-cum, daddy… fuck.” you mutter, unsure if you’re referring to Sukuna or Toji. Neither of them seem to care, though, they’re more focused on your wobbly thighs and spasming cunt. “Ngghh—!” you wail.

Toji slurps up your mess as you squirt all over his face. He laughs, scar pulling deliciously as he tries to catch your essence in his wide, smiling mouth. He sticks his tongue out before attaching his lips directly against the source again.

And even he’s panting when you’re finished. Completely satisfied from this alone.

Though his eyes and mind are full of desire as he fantasises about how close he is to feeling you wrapped around him.

“I want her pussy.” Toji insists, and Sukuna shrugs his shoulders.

Sukuna scoops you into his arms, and the two of them help position your near lifeless body between them. Though your pseudo-husband is the first to shove his cock into your drooling slot. Toji scowls, prepared to pull you away from him if needs be.

“I said—”

“And?” Sukuna responds. “Fuck her pussy, then.”

Toji is frozen, unsure of what he means. But they keep eye contact as Sukuna fully sheathes himself to the hilt. Toji’s gaze only falters when he hears you moan from the stretch. You look up at him, your sweet doe eyes absolutely sodden with tears. And still, you bite your lip as you lose yourself to the bliss of being an object.

“Oh, princess,” Toji smirks, kissing the tip of your nose before he lines his cock up with your hole. “Gonna have to break this little pussy, ‘cause your daddy’s so selfish.” he tells you.

He hisses as he breaches inside of you, and your head falls forward to rest on his chest. They both hush you and coo sweetly as their cocks tear you apart. You aren’t sure which of them he was calling selfish, but really, it’s both.

They could have taken turns if they both wanted you this way.

But they were hellbent on double stuffing you.

Their hips move in tandem, neither of them giving you a single moment to catch your breath as they bully their cocks into you again and again. You’re screaming out moans as they pummel your insides. You’re bound to be aching and bruised tomorrow. You don’t care, though, not right now. And they certainly don’t. Not when your tight little hole feels so Goddamn perfect.

“Fuck— fuck,” Toji grunts. “Don’t wanna pull out.”

“D—on’t.” you squeak out, and they both let out a little laugh each at your weak request.

“She’s a little cum slut, can’t get enough. Fill her up, fuck if I care. Want this little pussy bred, baby? Hm? Want your daddy’s to fuck you full’a kids?” Sukuna teases. And you nod, it’s weak, pathetic, but determined. “Goooood girl, ‘m close.”

“I’m close as well, I’m gonna fuckin’ lose it.” Toji announces, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more staggered.

The change in pace has you clenching, the third and final nail in your coffin as your pussy begins to gush for them both. They’re both a little embarrassed, flushing red in the face as your tightening hole leads to both of their mutual demise.

“That’s it, take it, little slut.” Sukuna commands as he empties his balls inside of you. Toji is no better, the obscene names seem like second nature to them both.

“Fuck, look at her stomach.” Toji snickers. Sukuna looks down to see your tummy swollen with their cocks and cum.

They both pull out, wholly beguiled as your body collapses onto the bed in a heap. You’re practically asleep as they position you onto your stomach and split your legs apart to see how their sperm leaks out of your twitching cunt.

“I want another go.” Toji smirks, unable to pull his eyes away from your glittering slit.

“Let her rest a little.” Sukuna tells him. “I’m not done with her, either.”

You’re tired.

You’re so tired of coming to these fucking meetings.

Sukuna walks through the building with you close by. His arm around you, protectively. Somehow, you think the encounter with his rival has made him love you more. He’s been clingier, lately, which isn’t like him. He never wants to let you out of his sight, or his grasp.

He’s been using you more too.

It’s like how things were in the beginning again.

You’re sure everyone knows what happened. Eyes are on you, and their full of judgement. It hurts, of course, but there’s nothing to be done. Sukuna was right: you agreed. You did it for him and yet out of the two men who were supposed to deal with this amongst themselves, you’re the only one paying the price.

Nobody cares if their boss had a threesome.

Everyone cares if his girlfriend got used like a slut though.

Mostly, you can’t bring yourself to care. As you sit down beside Sukuna, his hand rests on your thigh while you scan everyone’s shame-filled faces. You’d challenge any of them to care what others think of them after the night you had.

It was mind blowing.

To be dominated thoroughly by the two biggest men you’ve ever met like that is a feeling you can’t begin to describe. To feel so small and worthless in comparison to them. For your body to be used in whatever manner they see fit and for them to still allow you to cum despite your purpose being for their enjoyment…

You haven’t stopped thinking about it.

About them.

About him.

Sukuna’s hand leaves your thigh as he addresses the room. Explaining how Toji miraculously decided to back off after a firm warning. No one believes it, but everyone is happy enough. But there’s always going to be issues and problems when you’re involved in illegal activity. So despite your nose being buried in your phone, you can’t say you’re surprised when you hear Sukuna move onto the next issue.

Uraume sees you smirking as your fingers tap away at your keyboard. And it makes her smirk, too.

Toji insisted that you put your number in his phone when you spent the night. Sukuna was using the bathroom, and he forced his phone into your shaky fingers. You were panicking, but you typed fast.

You’ve been texting non-stop ever since.

Uraume thinks you’re a naïve fool.

She knows exactly what you’re doing because this is what she had envisioned from the very start. She orchestrated everything. She invited Toji’s foot soldiers to start operating their business on Sukuna’s turf; just like she is the one who informed Sukuna of the invasion with such haste and loyalty.

She is the one who hinted at where they might find you that day you were shopping with Yuuji. And she is the one who let slip to Toji what your arrangement with Sukuna is.

Sukuna respects Uraume, but he doesn’t give her nearly enough credit.

She has managed perfectly to drive a wedge between you that neither of you even know is there yet. His lack of respect for your body has driven you into the willing arms of another man. Only through texting, for now, but before long that won’t be enough for you. Sukuna’s jealousy and possessiveness have made him love you more, the scales have tipped the other way and it is all to benefit Uraume.

Sukuna will find out, she’ll make sure of that.

And whether he kills you or casts you aside, it matters not to her. Because his heart will be broken either way; and she will be there to pick up the pieces. Sukuna hates how jealous you are of Uraume. But neither of you have a single solitary clue that she’s thinking all of this through right now.

Uraume feels a little bad for you, your intuition is keen. But Sukuna will never suspect a thing. You’re just insecure, he thinks. But Uraume applauds you for having your guard up about her.

You were right to worry.

© 2023 rinhaler

[whytheylosttheirminds]

the boy is mine - r.c.

(blurb, 1.4k words, season 4 bf!rafe x gf!reader)

summary he's got finally got his shit tight, but now everybody wants him, and that just won't do...

content fem receiving oral, 18+ minors do not interact

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The sun was hot and angry, casting a golden glow on Rafe as he cracked another beer and threw it back. You watched his tall frame from your beach chair, lip between your teeth as you took in the sharp panes of his stomach. You squirmed slightly while your eyes tracked the little trail of hair that led lower, lower…

But you weren’t the only one looking. 

The music bumped through someone’s speaker as a group of bikini-clad girls pulled up their chairs and umbrellas right next to your group’s coveted spot.

Your friend leaned over in her beach chair, “think someone’s got eyes for your man.” You followed her nod to the gaggle of bottle blondes with fake tans who were whispering to each other and smiling in his direction. 

“That’s cute,” you snorted.

Rafe was none the wiser to their stares, reaching his hand down to help you to your feet, pulling you toward the water behind him.

“Think you’ve got some fans,” you told him once you were bobbing in the waves, your arms around his neck as he crouched low to meet your eyeline.

He smirked, “maybe I should go sign some autographs.”

You smacked his shoulder, making him laugh despite your pouty frown. He stood from the water, lifting you with him so they could see your legs wrap around his waist. He grabbed your ass, holding you up with ease as his lips found yours.

The girls on the beach were suddenly very busy checking their phones and setting up umbrellas, disappointed looks on their faces as Rafe showed you off.

Back at his house, Rafe lead you into the outdoor shower, turning on the lukewarm water to wash the sea and sand from your body. When he caught you frowning, he tapped the side of your head gently, his signature way of asking what’s on your mind.

“I’m glad you’re so successful, I just don’t like that everybody suddenly wants what’s mine,” you explained.

He looked down at you, eyelids low as his gaze traveled over your body. His hands slid up your sides slowly, thumbs slipping under the thin string of your bikini top, sweeping over your ribs.

“So possessive,” he smirked.

“Just think everyone should know you’re off limits by now,” you whispered, stepping closer to him until you were chest to chest.

You nudged your nose against his neck, guiding him to tilt his chin up and reveal his throat to you. Your lips started out soft, tickling him with little kitten licks between each gentle kiss. When you reached his Adam’s apple, you let your teeth graze over the sensitive skin. Rafe winced, his obvious erection pressing against your belly and making you hungrier for him than ever. 

Finally, you sucked harder, right where his neck meets his broad chest. After a few moments of pressure, you pulled back and wiped the glossy spit from your lips, smiling in satisfaction at the purple-blue mark you left on him. You moved to leave another, but he interrupted you.

“Bet those girls on the beach wouldn’t tease me this much,” he grumbled.

You responded by wrapping your fingers around his throat. He chuckled smugly under your hold, deep vibration tickling your palm. It’s merely a symbolic gesture, your small hand doesn’t even fit half way around his neck. You squeezed harder, but he was still smiling. You narrowed your eyes at him, no more fucking around.

Your hand snaked up higher, around to the back of his neck. As you ran your fingers up over his buzzed hair, you let your nails scratch enough to raise goosebumps along his skin. When you reached as high as you could go, standing up on your tiptoes and still nowhere near matching his height, you pressed his head down hard, nails digging into his scalp. 

Rafe stumbled for just a second before understanding the assignment. He lowered to his knees slowly, shuffling forward until your back brushed against the wall, the water from the shower cascading over your shoulders and down your body.

“Bet those girls on the beach couldn’t make you drop to your knees without saying a single word either,” you taunted him.

He grabbed your hips and dug his fingers in, pushing you back against the wall hard.

“Tell me who else, baby,” you continued, “who else can put big bad Rafe Cameron on his knees? Hmm?”

His stare was icy as he looked up at you from the ground. You returned your hand to the top of his head, redirecting his gaze to your bikini bottoms.

“Show me who you belong to, baby boy.”

You could tell he was considering fighting back, the desire for control almost tempting enough to bring him back to his feet. But then he saw the growing wet spot over your center. Licking his lips, he nodded slowly, like a king admiring his feast.

His long fingers untied your bathing suit strings one at a time, causing the thin fabric to fall away and leave you bare in front of him. You lifted one foot to his shoulder, lowering him even further.

Rafe looked up at you, eyelashes fluttering over his pretty blue eyes as he spread you with his first and middle finger, his tongue flicking between them and hitting right where you needed it to.

“Exactly like that,” you sighed, head falling back so the water from the showerhead ran through your hair like a waterfall. “You know just what to do.”

No rush, he took his time. This was his house. He could take you on any surface, in any room, at any time. And he would. But first he was gonna make you come on his tongue right out in the open air. 

He’d developed this whole neighborhood, practically running this half of the island at this point. All these new houses were filled with people who owed him money. He runs this shit, and yet here he was, on his knees for you. The thought was so fucking hot, you had to bite back your moan.

“Nah let it out, angel,” he coaxed between sharp licks to your clit. “I want you to scream ‘til the neighbors hear, yeah?”

You smiled big at that command, “you want all your new neighbors to hate you?”

“I don’t care what they think as long as their checks clear.” 

He lowered his mouth to your entrance, lapping you up, grinding his nose back and forth on your clit until he was completely buried, covered in you. You couldn’t even feel the water falling on you anymore, your skin on fire with pleasure. Rafe’s hands slid up your thighs and over your stomach, before slipping under your bikini top and palming your tits with perfect pressure.

As instructed, you let your moans and cries fly. When he let one hand fall from your chest so he could slip two fingers inside you, curling at the knuckles and tapping the tips against your g-spot, your whole body trembled.

“Mmm, that’s perfect,” you praised. “You gonna make me come all over your face?”

“Fuck yes,” he groaned, licking a long stripe across your clit. “Make a mess for me, baby.”

He circled back, dragging his tongue the other way as his fingers danced along your walls. Your foot pushed hard against his shoulder, like you were trying to stomp him out, but he held himself up against you, the burning stretch in your thigh only adding to the intense pleasure.

“Oh my god! Yes, yes Rafe!”

You soaked him, one hand on his head and the other digging into the flesh of his shoulder as you came.

When you finally cooled down, body weak and wrung out with pleasure, he stood and guided you even further under the cool stream of the shower. He rubbed his hand along your inner thigh, letting the remnants of your high wash down the drain. 

“Now why the fuck would I need any other girl when you give me that, huh?”

“That’s right, baby,” you agreed with a blissed out grin. “I got so much more for you, too.”

Rafe carried you into the house, and he didn’t even have to ask for you to get on your knees. 

Before you started, he made sure all the windows were wide open so everyone in the neighborhood could hear exactly who he belonged to.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[no-one-hears-me]

back on my blood donation grind

[katsukiizmoon]

╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🌶 ┊”You’re ovulating?” + BKG ꒱

『♡』 this was longer but tumblr literally fucking ate it! I’m actually still upset about it not going to lie. :(( anyways ovulation is killing me and I want this man to fuck me till I can’t breathe :))

『♡』 f!reader, ovulation, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, light choking, light finger sucking, squirting, Bj/Pussy Eating, light breeding

Katsuki walks in and loses his breath. He drops every thought in his mind, floating away like they were never there to begin with. A hushed, slow breath leaves his lips. Cock growing hard in his pants, he watches.

There you are, sprawled out on your shared bed. Black comforter under your pretty body as you work. Your legs spread as you pump fingers in and out of yourself.

He watches the way your head is thrown back, the gasp tumbling from your lips when you rub your clit. And something takes control of him.

He drops his belt to the ground, yanking his work shirt over his head and throwing it. His gauntlets and other finicky objects are in the garage where they belong. And you are in bed, where you belong.

Katsuki stalks in, dick pressing against the fabric of his pants. His mind races and he loses his wits when he hears you moan his name.

“Baby.” He mumbles, deep and rich voice flooding your senses.

You snap up, to your elbows, closing your legs. You look like you’ve been caught doing something you’re not supposed to and shy.

“I- I’m sorry m jus- I’m ovulating and-“ You get out, pussy clenching at the sight in front of you.

And oh god, is it a look. He’s so thick, little bit of sweat on his neck. His chest is large and because of work and the gym today he’s got a pump. Slick slides from your pussy onto the mattress. He’s still got his hero mask on and somehow it makes it hotter.

“You’re ovulating?” He questions, staring at your closed knees. He wants them open, wants to see your pretty pussy.

You nod, face heating and slowly beginning to spread your legs. Your pussy is clenching around nothing, slick juices sliding between your ass cheeks. It glistens in the light filtering through the bedroom.

Katsuki gasps, cock beginning to leak precum. And he makes his move.

His thick, rough fingers make quick work of spreading your legs the rest of the wayand his tongue is suddenly everywhere.

He sucks on your clit and rubs his cock against the mattress when you moan. Tongue sliding between your folds like he’s been starving for you.

“Yes yes yes!” You sing, gripping at his blonde locks of hair. But it isn’t enough. It feels amazing, your body hot all over and pussy throbbing like it has a heartbeat.

But it isn’t enough.

You pounce, pulling him onto the bed. You make quick work of pulling down his pants, shoving your tongue in his mouth. They dance there, exploring despite knowing one another so well.

He whimpers and your pussy leaks some more and you move so that he’s on his back. He’s such a fucking beauty.

Plush lips, nice and pink. His face is flushed and his eyeliner from work has smudged a bit. You watch his chest rising and falling and tears prick your eyes.

“Bunny?” He murmurs, so fucking sweet.

“I need your cock in me now or I’m going to fucking die.” You get out, pulling his pants further down.

He lifts his hips and gets them off the rest of the way. You actually almost cum when you see his cock. The precum looks so good you think about licking it up.

But you don’t. You sink down on top of him and whine, hands finding hold on his chest. Your fingers splay against him and you begin to bounce and rock back and forth.

He’s letting out airy moans and gasps, fingers digging into the fat on your hips. Something about it sets you on fire.

You keep going, feeling your pussy suck him in. He’s so big, so good. Your thighs burn and your body tingles. His cock brushes against your gspot and you lose it.

“Fuck me- fill me- oh fuck!” You whimper out, nails digging into his chest.. and he’s manhandling you.

You’re on your back before you can protest. Cock shoved back into you, knees hooked over his shoulders. It’s lewd, how you squelch. Pussy juice and precum mixing together.

Something in your stomach twists. His hand wraps around your throat and squeezes- just a little- and oh god you’re fucking flying. You grab onto the comforter so you don’t float away.

His cock is buried in you, deep. So deep you think you feel him in your throat. He’s still moaning and it’s god you on cloud nine.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you with my cum and- and-“ He gasps out, with a long and hard thrust. This one makes your eyes roll back and you barely register the clear juices gushing from your pussy.

He takes a moment and slows down, tongue tracing over your lips and he takes the moment to drown in the taste of your spit. He can still taste a little bit of your lunch and drink on his tongue. But it still tastes like you and he can’t think straight.

Katsuki loses himself, loses his mind cause you’re squeezing down on him. And you look so good, you taste so good, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Katsuki-“ You whimper out, and you mumble something he barely hears. Something you get shy about, the both of you.

He moves his face so it’s closer to your neck, so his lips are beside your ear and he can say things just as breathily as you.

“Yeah? M’ gonna fuck you dumb n make you a momma, yeah? That’s what you want honey?” Katsuki rasps, hot breath on your neck.

You start chanting out agreements, nodding, whining and whimpering beneath him. He licks the column of your throat and nibbles , stroking deep.

He reached up and pushes his fingers into your mouth, and you suck between babbles and whines.

His cock slams into you, pushing deep and your eyes roll back. Your toes curl and for the umpteenth time you’re floating again. The world goes still and you claw at his shoulders. You don’t even register him replacing his fingers with his tongue, kissing you, deep and slow. You can faintly taste your pussy on his tongue.

“That’s my good girl, that’s it, take it.” He gasps out, watching as clear spurts of liquid leave your tight hole.

His cock is still slamming into you, making you bounce and gasp and moan with every thrust. It hurts and it feels good all the same. His fingers reach and dig into the plush of your ass and he lowers himself to nibble at your neck.

Katsuki loses his last bits of sanity when you whimper out, begging him to fuck his cum in you and give you a baby. It makes his head foggy, he forgets everything he ever learned in sex ed.

You’re licking at the column of his throat, savoring every little taste you can of his sweat. He tastes like fucking honey on your lips and you can’t get enough of him.

He pushes his cock in as deep as he can, body taut as he stills. The head presses against your cervix and he cums. And he whimpers, body shaking before it eventually begins to relax. He stays like that, letting the cum suffuse until you’re leaking with it and then he moves again.

Slow and controlled, lifting up a bit to kiss you deep and make you feel every little bit of him. He allows himself to fuck the cum into you, reveling in the quiet gasps you make. You’re so sensitive, both of you, but it feels so good. It’s the fact that he’s intentionally doing it- knowing it can and probably will get you pregnant.

And he’s gentle when he pulls back, getting to his knees to lick at the juices and cum that have spilled out. But you know he’s holding back, for your sanity.

“You’re gonna be mine forever now.” He mumbles to himself, but you catch it and your pussy squeezes with his cum inside you.

He takes his time with you in the shower, eating your pussy like a starving man, and then washing your hair.

Katsuki thanks all his lucky stars when you suck his cock until it’s milked. And he sees stars when you catch some of his cum on your fingers and shove them up your pussy. Pushing his cum into you for the second time that night.

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Oh Make Me Over - Emily Prentiss

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Reader and Emily agreeing to do each other’s makeup devolves into lewd activities.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: saw a tiktok that made me so insanely feral so here we are.

TW: dom!emily, lap sitting, cockwarming + penetration (w/ a strap), slight fingering, degradation kink, slight praise, playful thigh slapping, fem + afab reader

Rating: R (mostly smut again, oops)

——

“Emily, will you do my makeup?” You approached her from behind, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“Only if you’ll do mine.” She replied, setting the hot tool in her hand on the counter. She looked at you through the mirror, admiring the way your chin sat so perfectly on her shoulder.

“Let me finish my hair and we can start, go get everything together and I’ll be right in.” She smiled, turning to kiss your cheek.

You padded out of the bathroom, collecting both of your makeup bags and setting them on the nightstand while you relaxed on the bed. You pulled out the book you were reading, scanning through a chapter until Emily walked in.

“You first babe, I have an idea for mine.” She hinted, peaking your curiosity. She joined you on the bed, grabbing your makeup bag and moving to straddle your lap. She laid out the contents of the bag on the bed next to you, asking you to hold certain things as she went to work making you over.

Having her on top of you made your body temperature rise, your heart rate increasing every time she bit her lip in concentration and held your chin to move your face whichever way she needed you to face.

“Look down.” She commanded, ready to apply the smokey eye you had requested for your first proper date night in months. Your gaze dropped, giving you an eyeful of her ample cleavage in the low-cut top she had chosen. Something told you she was doing this on purpose but you weren’t complaining. The next thing you knew she was gripping your chin, holding you firmly in place.

“I’m doing your eyeliner, don’t move.” She was a little extra firm this time and you could tell she was in one of her dominant moods today. That thought had you clenching your thighs together, wondering what she would do to you when you got home from your date.

“Lashes?” She asked, holding up your favorite pair of falsies. You nodded, wanting to look extra pretty for her. She applied the lashes, blowing softly against your eyelids to help the glue completely dry. The new sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and you almost whined when she leaned away from you to grab a mirror.

“Thoughts?” She watched your expression, loving the way your eyes lit up when you took the look in.

“You always make me look so pretty.” You praised her handiwork.

“You’re always gorgeous.” She sighed, a little disappointed in your backdoor self-depreciation but always loving to hear that she’s made you happy. You blushed, still not fully sure how to feel comfortable receiving compliments, even from your girlfriend of 2 years.

“So what is your idea for yours?” The curiosity was driving you wild, Emily always has the best ideas.

She got off the bed, going over to the dresser and opening the drawer the two of you kept your toys in. You watched her carefully, trying to see what she was grabbing until she turned around, strap in hand. You gulped, cheeks flushing.

“We have to leave soon or we’ll miss our reservation, I don’t think we have time to do your makeup and do that.” You reminded her, trying to remain rational.

“Not if we do both at the same time.” She smirked, stepping into the harness and tightening it around her hips. You remained silent, still a bit confused until she climbed on the bed, settling with her back against the headboard, strap resting erect in her lap.

“Come here.” She beckoned you toward her, her hands resting on your hips as you hovered only inches from the toy between you.

“Have you ever heard of cockwarming?” This line of questioning was not what you were expecting when you imagined your first date night in months. You shook your head, the name giving you an idea but not 100% sure on the definition.

“I want you to sit on my lap with this inside you and do my makeup. You can do whatever you want on it, as long as you stay focused and get my makeup done in time to make our reservation.” Her eyes sparkled and even though you were a little unsure, the ache between your thighs was growing by the second and the concept of getting some relief was more than enough to convince you.

“Okay, I think I can do that.” You finally answer after a moment, reaching for her makeup bag and splaying the contents on the bed like Emily had done with yours. When you were ready you draped your hand over her shoulder, lifting your hips and holding your skirt up so you should position yourself above the fake cock. You reached down, pumping your fingers into your entrance to double check that your desperation had aroused you enough to safely sink onto it before positioning the head in place of your fingers, the stretch drawing a gasp of air from your lungs. You sank down completely, pausing for a moment to adjust to the feeling before reaching for Emily’s primer, ready to start your task.

You got to work, applying her base products as you slowly swiveled your hips, allowing yourself just enough stimulation to keep you satisfied but still focused on what you were doing. An issue began to arise when you reached for her eyeshadow palette, ready to start getting into the more tedious details. The slight friction wasn’t enough anymore, the carnal desire inside of you beginning to overwhelm.

You started bouncing your hips, starting out slower as you laid down a transition shade on Emily’s eyelids, pausing briefly to grab a different brush to put the dark shade of brown on her outer corners. You tried your best to blend the two shades seamlessly, but your hips seemed to have a mind of their own as you continued to increase your pace. You were chasing a slowly approaching orgasm and your focus was quickly slipping, pausing your work a little too long for Emily’s taste.

“Stop.” She commanded, her hands gripping your hips to pull you down to a stop.

“If you don’t focus we’re going to miss our reservation, is that what you want?” She chided, holding you still.

“No, I’m sorry.” You mumbled, grabbing a new brush to add the final eyeshadow shade. You held her still this time, your free hand gripping her chin as you did her eyeliner. When you grabbed her mascara, instructing her to blink as you applied the dark coating to her lashes, she let go of your hips, silently telling you to start moving again.

You reached for her setting spray, bouncing your hips once again as you shook the bottle, finally spraying the last step over her face. She took the mirror, inspecting your work as you continued attempting to get yourself off.

“You did a pretty good job for a selfish brat.” You didn’t want to admit it but hearing her demean you like that had you chasing your orgasm even harder, too turned on to question why. You were too lost in pleasure to realize that Emily had packed up her makeup, clearing the bed to make space for her to flip you onto your back, driving her hips into you as hard as she could.

“You want to cum, slut? You better hurry up, we only have a few minutes.” She taunted, her thumb finding your clit as you cried out underneath her, each thrust of her hips into your aching cunt rubbing perfectly against that soft spot inside you.

“Do you like when I make you fuck yourself for my entertainment?” You barely registered her question as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, so close to release.

“Answer me.” She demanded, slapping your thigh.

“Yes!” You cried out, euphoria washing over you as your orgasm finally hit, back arching and hands clutching at the sheets beneath you. As you came down Emily pulled out of you, planting kisses across your collarbone.

“Are you okay, love?” She asked, slight concern in her voice.

“More than okay.” You panted, still catching your breath.

“We really do need to leave in a couple minutes, what panties do you want?” She looked to you, opening your underwear drawer.

“Pink flowers.” The words had barely left your lips when she was already at your feet with the pair, helping pull them up your legs.

“I love you.” You smiled down at her, loving the dynamic the two of you share.

“I love you too babydoll.” She replied, taking your hand to help you to your feet to finally leave for your date.

——

Tag List: DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or Emily Prentiss taglist :)

[iateyourparents]

change | j.g.

pairing: johnnie guilbert x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend changes your style.

warnings: use of y/n, i have no idea how actually emos dress like so it’s based on pinterest and my imagination, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english isn’t my first language)

an: i actually didn’t plan on writing for johnnie but few people were asking for him, so hope you like it guys <33

pictures are from pinterest:)

“Hi guys, welcome to my channel!” You did quick intro to your video “Today I’m here with Johnnie!” said boy waved to the camera “And he will…”

“I will change y/n’s look to emo girl for today!” he explained with huge smile.

“Exactly! Are you excited?”

“Yes!” he nodded vigorously “I’m sure you will look great. And how you feel about it?”

“I’m kinda scared.” you laughed “I believe in your abilities to not make me look like a monster, but I think emo is more like dark colors, chains and strong make up. And that’s totally different from my everyday style. But I also can’t wait to see how I will look.” you kissed johnnie’s cheek.

“Hot, for sure.” he moved his eyebrows suggestively and you laughed “I have really nice outfit prepared for you. And yes, it’s more dark than what you wear everyday but you will look lovely anyway, you could make trashcan look like the best designer’s clothes.”

You felt blush creeping onto your cheeks and you quickly said few more things to the camera and then you and Johnnie went to your bedroom where he already had prepared everything, from clothes and shoes to make up products and jewelry.

“Oh, let me also mention guys, that it will be the first time ever when Johnnie will do my make up.” you told your viewers “But I have good feeling about it.”

Finally, Johnnie started styling you. At first, he gave you the clothes he wanted you to wear. It was red tube top with black, web like, thingie on the shoulders, black leather pants and pair of black high boots that actually were from your closet.

Then he also added jewelry and showed you and your fans the bag he wanted you to hold when he will be completely done.

“So now, make up.” Johnnie sat you down on the chair so everything could be seen by camera “I need you to look up baby.”

He started with eyeliner, and to be honest, it turned out great, then he did your lips with deep red lipstick and asked you to contour your face and do brows the way you do it everyday.

Then he positioned you and the camera so you could show off the whole look.

“So what do you think love?” Johnnie asked when you were looking into the mirror.

“I like it, not really something I would wear everyday but it looks good.” you smiled at your boyfriend.

“I think you look fabulous baby.” Johnnie kissed you.

Then you made an outro for the video and you both decided to order something for lunch before you would have to go out to meet with your friends.

“I think I will go in this.” you told Johnnie. You saw how he looked at the outfit and you knew he liked it.

“I’m glad you like it.” he looked proud of his work.

“Would you want me to dress like this more often? I can see that you like it.” you tilted your head, waiting for his answer.

“I think you look hot but I also love your everyday style. I wouldn’t be opposed to you dressing like this more but only if you feel good with it and not because of me. I actually like it when I look like I look and you are in your cute, light colors outfits.” he shrugged with a smile and kissed your lips.

“Yeah I also like it.” you agreed “I saw a comment saying that together we look like golden retriever and doberman.” you both laughed at your words.

“I love this comparison. That’s really accurate though.” he shrugged.

[lostfracturess]

─── games and matches | ch. 01

pairing — satoru gojo x suguru's daughter reader

summary — after a night of partying and drinking, you run into none other than satoru gojo — your dad's infuriatingly hot best friend who you haven't seen in years. blame it on the alcohol, but you start flirting with him. and he flirts back. so, can it really be that wrong to want to fuck your dad's best friend? after all, what happens in the kitchen at 3AM stays in the kitchen, right?

word count — 13.2 k (chapter 1/3)

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, age difference, alcohol use, drunk sex, unprotected sex, penetration, fingering, edging, oral (female receiving), hair pulling, underwear in your mouth lol, in need of heavy daddy issues to enjoy this.

author's note — idk what to say about this, was in the mood to write something dumb and fun, so don't dwell too much on the plot and just enjoy the vibes of this story haha. happy reading !! comments and reblogs are love <3

masterlist + ao3 + wattpad

next chapter ->

"Well well, look who it is."

Suddenly, the light flickered on.

You froze, blinking rapidly as your eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. Heart racing, you spun around to find Satoru Gojo, your dad's best friend — no, scratch that, your dad's ridiculously hot best friend — leaning casually against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

You stood there in the doorway, taking in the sight of him. 

It had been years since you'd last seen him. You'd nearly forgotten about him — but not quite. He looked different now. Older. 

Hotter.

"Quite the late night, huh?" he remarked.

His piercing gaze raked over your barely-there party dress, taking in the way the short, black fabric clung to your curves. You could only imagine how you looked — smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, and cheeks flushed.

It was well past three in the morning on a Wednesday, and you'd just stumbled home from a college party, the remnants of cheap tequila still swirling in your bloodstream. 

The last thing you needed was a run-in with Satoru, especially when he looked so damn good in that black shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and a navy overshirt casually rolled up to his elbows. 

Life just wasn't fair sometimes.

"Fuck, Satoru. You scared me," you whisper-hissed, your voice a bit hoarse. "What the hell are you doing here at this hour?”

He raised an eyebrow, a slow, amused smirk spreading across his face. "I could ask you the same question, love. Don't you have classes in a few hours? Or did they start giving out degrees for partying these days?"

You rolled your eyes, slipping out of your heels and sighing in relief as your aching feet met the cool tiles. As you bent to arrange your shoes, your short dress rode up, the hem barely skimming the curve of your thighs.

"What does that concern you?"

"Because you're the daughter of my best friend, of course. Now, be a good girl and tell me where you've been."

You sighed. "I was at a college party, obviously.”

"You drunk?" 

“No," you lied, even as the remnants of tequila still thrummed through your veins, making everything pleasantly hazy around the edges.

Satoru's gaze followed your every move as you walked past him to the sink in the kitchen. The room suddenly felt smaller with his presence, the air thick. You reached for a glass from the cabinet, the hem of your dress riding up even further, a sliver of skin flashing in the dim light.

"That's quite the outfit for a college party," he commented, his gaze lingering on your exposed skin. 

You filled your glass with tap water. "It's a normal dress for a normal party. You're too old to know that. What, did they not have parties back in your day?" 

"I'm not that much older than you." 

"Yeah, like just a good 16 years or what?" you scoffed, taking a sip of water.

In the dim moonlight that spilled through the kitchen windows, you noticed the faint flush high on Satoru's cheekbones, the telltale glassiness in his normally sharp eyes. The subtle scent of bourbon clung to him.

He's drunk too, you realized with surprise.

You lifted your chin. "You're drunk."

"I'm not.”

"Oh really?" you challenged, setting your water glass down on the counter with a soft clink. "Prove it then. How many fingers am I holding up?"

You held up three fingers in front of his face. He squinted at your hand, before he reached out, his fingers warm as they wrapped around your wrist, tugging your hand down gently.

"That's not how you measure how drunk someone is. But I can assure you, I'm perfectly sober.” His gaze shifted down, resting on your chest. “Sober enough to see that dress of yours is way too low cut for a woman your age."

Heat rushed to your cheeks as you suddenly became acutely aware of just how much cleavage you were showing. You tugged at the neckline of your dress, trying to adjust it higher, but the silky fabric simply slipped through your fingers.

"I'm grown up now, if you haven't noticed. And besides, it's not that low.”

"If you say so.” He shrugged out of his navy overshirt. “But just in case, why don't you put this on? Wouldn't want you catching a cold in that scrap of fabric you're calling a dress."

He held out his jacket to you, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

"I'm not cold," you said, but even as the words left your mouth, a shiver ran through you. The kitchen tiles were cool beneath your bare feet, and the thin material of your dress did little to ward off the chill of the night air.

Satoru noticed, of course. 

His smirk widened. "Sure you're not. But humor me, will you?"

You glared at him. Finally, you snatched the jacket from his outstretched hand. "Fine. But only because I don't want to listen to you nag."

You shrugged into the jacket, immediately engulfed by Satoru's scent — a heady mix of expensive cologne, cigarette smoke and something uniquely him. The sleeves fell past your fingertips, and the hem hit your mid-thigh, covering much more of you than your dress did. You had to admit, it felt nice. 

Comforting, almost.

Satoru's gaze softened as he took in the sight of you drowning in his clothes. "There. Much better. Now you look less likely to give some poor teenage boy a heart attack."

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

He grinned. "Part of my charm, love, can't you remember?”

You rolled your eyes. 

He hasn't changed a bit. Still the same old Satoru, with his quick wit and insufferable smirk. But damn if he didn't look good. 

The years had been kind to him, that's for sure.

You hopped up onto the kitchen counter, the cool marble sending a shiver up your spine as it met your bare thighs. Satoru's jacket rode up as you settled, the soft fabric bunching around your waist, but you were far too focused on the man across from you to care.

Blame it on the alcohol.

You picked up your abandoned glass of water, taking a long, slow sip as you watched him lean back against the opposite counter, his long legs stretched out before him, arms crossed over his broad chest.

In the dim light filtering through the blinds, shadows played across his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline and the subtle curve of his lips. God, he looked even better than you remembered him.

His gaze never left you, his eyes dark pools. His glance made you feel a strange warmth that spread through your body, a heat that had nothing to do with the tequila you'd consumed earlier.

But you pushed it away. 

It was just the alcohol talking, you told yourself. 

It had to be.

"So," you started. "You never did answer my question. What are you doing here at this hour?”

Satoru ran a hand through his tousled hair, the white locks falling back into place effortlessly. Damn him. "Well, your old man and I were out for drinks earlier. Celebrating closing a big case we've been working on."

You raised an eyebrow. "Dad doesn't usually stay out this late."

"No, he doesn't. Man's a total lightweight. Two bourbons in and he was ready to hit the karaoke stage".

You nearly choked on your water at the image. "Tell me you got that on video."

"Oh, you know it," Satoru grinned. "Blackmail material for a lifetime. But someone had to be the adult and get him home before he really made a fool of himself. Dropped him in bed right before you stumbled in, actually."

"My hero," you teased, taking another sip of water. "So, this big case, it was the Johnston trial, right? Dad mentioned it, said it was huge for your firm." You tilted your head, observing him. "You just here for the case, or are you sticking around?"

He shrugged, the movement casual, but you could see the glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "Initially just for the case, but I'll be around for a bit to wrap things up. It was a team effort, though. Everyone put in a lot of long hours."

"Look at you, being all humble. Dad said you led this one. Said you absolutely destroyed the other side in court. Had them in tears, from what I heard."

"Oh, did he now?" His smirk widened, clearly enjoying the praise.

"Mhmm," you hummed, leaning back on your hands, the marble counter cool against your palms. "Seems the press is calling you a legal genius or something, too.”

"Well, they're not wrong, are they? I am pretty damn brilliant."

You huffed out a laugh. "Careful, counselor. Keep winning cases like this and that ego of yours might just burst."

"Ah, but you'd be there to keep me humble, wouldn't you?"

"I don't think anyone could keep you humble, Satoru. Least of all me."

"Oh, I don't know about that." He fixed you with his piercing blue eyes, the intensity making your breath catch in your throat. "I have a feeling you could bring me to my knees without even trying."

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry.

Damn him and his smooth lines. 

Satoru's eyes were dark, smoldering as they bore into yours. You felt pinned beneath his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest, your skin tingling with a strange sensation. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he broke the silence. 

"So, how's tennis going? I heard you're quite the rising star on campus. Beating all the boys and making them cry, huh?"

You scoffed. "Did you really expect anything less from me?"

"Nah, I always knew you'd be dominating the court someday. You were born to be a champ." 

"Oh, don't tell me you're a fan now," you said with a grin. "Want me to sign something for you before I get too famous and forget all about you?"

"Please, as if you could ever forget about me, love." 

You tilted your chin up, meeting his gaze head-on. "That ego of yours is something else, isn't it? How do you even fit through doorways with a head that big?" 

"Look who's talking. Your ego seems to be doing just fine too." 

His lips curled into a smirk. He fixed you with his gaze, those piercing blue eyes seeming to see right through you, sending shivers down your spine. It was unnerving, his gaze — and undeniably thrilling.

For a moment you thought he was flirting with you. But that couldn't be right. The alcohol must be messing with your perception, making you read into things that weren't there.

Then, he spoke again. "How was the party?"

"Oh. It was...fine, I guess. Pretty lame, actually."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? And here I thought college parties were supposed to be the highlight of your young adult life."

You shrugged, fiddling with the hem of his jacket. "Maybe for some people. But getting drunk off of cheap beer and watching my classmates make fools of themselves isn't really my idea of a good time."

"No?" He tilted his head, a lock of hair falling across his forehead. "Then what is your idea of a good time?"

“I don't know. Something more exciting than a frat party, that's for sure."

"Exciting, huh?”

Satoru's eyes glinted with mischief as he pushed off the counter. He walked over to the liquor cabinet where your father kept his prized collection and rummaged around for a moment before pulling out a bottle of top-shelf vodka.

"Well then," he drawled, grabbing two tumblers from the shelf above. "If the party was such a bust, why don't we make our own fun?"

He returned to you, placing the glasses on the counter beside your hip with a clink that seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet of the kitchen.

"And that's your definition of fun?" you asked. “Having drinks with your best friend's daughter at three in the morning?"

"Ah, but you're not just any daughter, are you?" He uncapped the vodka and poured a generous amount into each glass. "And besides, I'm curious. Those college boys at the party, they don't do it for you?"

He handed you your glass, his gaze never leaving yours. You took it, swirling the clear liquid and watching it catch the light. "Not really. They're all so... immature. All talk and no substance."

"Is that why you don't have a boyfriend? Because no one's managed to capture your interest?"

You emptied your glass in one satisfying gulp, the vodka burning a pleasant trail down your throat. You reached for the bottle, but Satoru was faster, his hand already at the neck, refilling your glass before you could blink.

"I guess," you admitted, watching the crystal tumbler fill with clear liquid. “That, and I've been busy with college, obviously. Dating hasn't exactly been a priority.”

"Mmm, I call bullshit.” He placed the refilled glass in your hand, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. "A woman like you, with your looks? You could have any man you wanted, studies be damned."

Oh god, you thought, your mind racing. 

He's indeed flirting with you. 

And you're flirting back.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a nervous thrill that combined with the warmth of the alcohol was probably a bad thing.

Was this really happening?

Were you actually flirting with Satoru Gojo, the man your dad considered a brother?

But now, in the dim light of the kitchen, he was something else entirely. He looked good. Damn good. The kind of good that made your mind wander to places it definitely shouldn't. 

And the way he was looking at you, the way his gaze kept drifting to your lips, the way he leaned in just a little too close — it was clear he no longer saw you as just his friend's little girl. No, the heat in his eyes told you he very much saw you as a woman now. 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. 

"Maybe I'm just picky."

"Oh, really?" Satoru moved closer, until he stood beside you, his hip brushing against yours, his hands resting tantalizingly close to your thigh. "And what exactly are you looking for?"

You met his gaze boldly, emboldened by the alcohol thrumming through your veins. "I don’t know. Someone older. More experienced. Someone who knows what he's doing."

"Is that so?"

You hummed in response, setting your empty glass aside. "What about you, Satoru? Where's your girlfriend tonight? Or boyfriend, I don't judge."

"No girlfriend. No boyfriend either. I guess you could say I'm married to my work."

You raised an eyebrow, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass. "Really? The great Satoru Gojo, eternally single? I find that hard to believe."

"Believe it, love," he said, setting his own glass down. His eyes, the color of a summer sky, never left yours. "I'm a busy man. Relationships take time and effort, two things I don't have in abundance."

"Sounds lonely.”

Saotru's lips quirked up at the corners. "Oh, believe me I’m far from lonely. Just unburdened by the messy attachments that come with a relationship."

"Ah. So you're a love 'em and leave 'em type, are you?"

"I prefer to think of it as knowing what I want and taking it.” He leaned in closer. You could smell the vodka on his breath, the intoxicating scent of his cologne. "No strings, no complications. Just fun."

“Why does that not surprise me.”

Satoru reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered on your cheek, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. "What can I say, love? I'm a simple man with simple needs."

Heat washed over you at his touch.

Oh god, he was definitely flirting with you.

And even worse, you were shamelessly flirting back. 

But could you really be blamed? It had been years since you'd last seen him, and time had been more than kind to Satoru Gojo. He'd always been handsome, but now, with a few more years of wisdom and experience etched into his features, he was practically irresistible.

And let's be real, you were both a little drunk. 

It was the perfect recipe for a little harmless flirting. Because that's all this was, right? 

Harmless. 

Just two adults engaging in a bit of playful banter, a bit of stolen glances and charged tension. It didn't mean anything. It couldn't mean anything.

After all, he was your dad's best friend. 

This was just the alcohol talking, just the thrill of seeing each other after so long. In the morning, you'd both laugh it off, chalk it up to a bit too much vodka and the nostalgia of reunion. 

But even as you told yourself this, you couldn't ignore the way your heart raced at his proximity, the way your skin tingled under his gaze. Blame it on the alcohol, but the truth was, you were enjoying this. 

It was exhilarating.

You scoffed, trying to regain your composure. "Oh, I'm sure your needs are anything but simple, counselor.”

"Mmm, you might be right about that. I've been told I can be quite... demanding."

"Does that line ever work on women?"

He smirked. "I can't complain. It's served me well enough so far."

Oh, he's so confident.

It made you wonder what it would take to throw him off his game.

"Is that so?” You sat up straighter, a coy smile playing about your lips. "In that case, why don't we play a little game? See if that silver tongue of yours is as clever as you think it is."

His eyebrows shot up. “What did you have in mind?"

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Oh, just a classic. Truth or Dare. Unless of course, the great Satoru Gojo is afraid of a little challenge?"

Satoru's eyes narrowed, his smirk sharpening into something more predatory. "Oh, love. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

You leaned in closer. "Then why don't you enlighten me, counselor?"

His gaze dropped to your lips, and for a heart-stopping moment, you thought he might kiss you. But then he pulled back, his smirk widening. "Alright. You're on. But don't say I didn't warn you."

"Bring it on. I'm not afraid of you."

"Oh, we'll see about that.” He picked up the vodka bottle, refilling both your glasses with a practiced hand. He handed one to you, clinking his against it. "Ladies first. Truth or Dare?"

You took a sip of your drink, the vodka rushing pleasantly through your veins, making you bolder. "Dare."

He paused, his eyes glinting in the dim light. His gaze roamed over you with deliberate slowness, lingering on the curve of your neck, the swell of your breasts beneath the fabric of his jacket. You could practically feel the heat of his gaze, branding you.

"Take off my jacket."

"That's it? That's your big dare?"

He shrugged. "What can I say? I'm starting you off easy. Wouldn't want to scare you off too soon."

You scoffed, setting your glass down. "Please. It takes more than a little strip tease to scare me."

With deliberate slowness, you hooked your thumbs into the neckline of Satoru's overshirt, your fingers grazing the heated skin of your chest as you pulled the fabric apart. His eyes followed your every move, the blue irises darkening with each new inch of exposed skin.

You shrugged the overshirt off your shoulders, letting it pool around your elbows. The cool air of the kitchen kissed your exposed skin, causing your nipples to harden beneath the thin fabric of your dress.

"Your turn, counselor. Truth or Dare?"

"Dare," he replied without hesitation, taking a long sip of his vodka.

You leaned back on your hands, the cool marble of the countertop a welcome contrast to the warmth spreading through your body. Tilting your head, you made a show of considering your options, drawing out the suspense.

"Take off your shirt."

His eyebrows shot up. "Didn't take you for the forward type, love."

You shrugged one shoulder. "What can I say? I appreciate a good view."

"Is that so? Well then, who am I to deny a woman what she wants?"

With equally deliberate slowness, he reached for the hem of his shirt, his gaze never leaving yours as he began to lift it inch by tantalizing inch. Your breath hitched in your throat as smooth, pale skin was revealed, stretched taut over toned muscles that rippled beneath his touch.

He pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it aside. Your eyes drank him in greedily, tracing the defined ridges of his abdomen, the broad expanse of his chest, the subtle play of light and shadow on his skin.

The waistband of his pants hung low on his hips, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of white curls trailing down from his navel.

God, he was gorgeous. 

All lean, hard muscle and power.

"See something you like?" He asked, a boyish grin spreading across his face.

You dragged your gaze up to his, your pulse pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the vodka. "I'm not blind. You're... easy on the eyes."

"Wow, that might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Why?" you challenged, tilting your head. "You’re craving my attention, Satoru?"

“That’s a question for a truth, isn’t it? Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you said.

He tilted his head to the side as he considered you. "Did you make out with any guys at that party tonight?"

“Yes.”

“Did you fuck him?"

"Quite bold of you to ask your best friend's daughter that question.”

He shrugged, unrepentant. "What? It's a valid question. So, did you?"

You hesitated, biting your lip. "Almost."

"Almost?"

You held his gaze, as he watched you over the rim of his glass. "I don't know. One minute we were all over each other, and the next...I just wasn't feeling it anymore. It got boring."

Satoru threw back his head and laughed, a deep, resonant sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "You really are the bane of every university boy's existence, aren't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He grinned, his eyes dancing with amusement. "It means, love, that you're a goddamn tease. Getting them all hot and bothered, then leaving them high and dry. It's almost cruel."

You scoffed, taking another sip of your drink. "It's not my fault they couldn't keep my interest.”

"Oh, I'm sure," he replied, taking a long, slow sip from his own glass.

You watched as his throat bobbed with each swallow, your eyes tracing the strong column of his neck down to the defined hollow of his collarbone. God, even the way he drank was hot. It was infuriating.

He set his glass down, his tongue darting out to catch a stray drop of vodka on his bottom lip. Your gaze followed the movement, heat curling in your stomach.

"Alright," he drawled. "Your turn. Truth or Dare?"

You lifted your chin, holding his gaze boldly. "Dare."

"Brave choice. I like it."

He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his bare chest, the pose showcasing his lean, muscular physique. Your mouth went dry as you took in the sight of his defined biceps flexing with the movement.

"Slip those straps of your dress off your shoulders.”

"Wow, Satoru. Why not just ask me to strip the whole dress off?"

"But where's the fun in that?" he countered, a wicked grin playing about his lips. "Besides, that's a job for me."

You hesitated for a second.

A small voice in the back of your head whispered that you were treading treacherous waters, that letting things go further with Satoru was a bad idea. But the alcohol flowing through your veins and the heat in his gaze silenced your better judgment. 

It was just a bit of harmless fun, right? 

No need to overthink it or make it into something it wasn't.

Slowly, you reached for the straps of your dress, sliding them down your shoulders, one after another. The silky fabric whispered against your skin as it fell, the neckline dipping precariously low, just barely concealing your hardened nipples beneath the lace edge of your bra that peeked out.

Satoru's gaze followed the movement, his eyes darkening as more and more of your skin was revealed. His jaw clenched, his fingers flexing against his biceps as he watched you, the air between you thick with tension.

You leaned forward slightly, your hands gripping the edge of the countertop, the cool marble a stark contrast to your overheated skin. You pressed your arms against your chest, pushing your cleavage together, the dress threatening to slip further with each heaving breath.

"See something you like?" you mirrored his words back to him.

Satoru huffed. He reached for his glass, bringing it to his lips and taking a long, slow sip, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, he moved to stand right before you, placing the glass beside your thighs, each of his hands coming to rest on either side of you, caging you in.

“Truth or dare.”

"Truth," Satoru said, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Getting shy on me now, counselor?”

"Oh, trust me. There's nothing shy about me. But I don't think you can handle me fully stripped."

You scoffed, even as a shiver of anticipation raced down your spine, your skin prickling with goosebumps. "Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"

He leaned in closer, his breath fanning across your cheek, warm and intoxicating. "With good reason, love. I've never had a complaint."

Your pulse jumped, heat pooling low in your core, your thighs clenching. This was dangerous territory, toeing the line of no return. If you weren't careful, you'd end up doing something very, very stupid.

Like finding out first-hand if Satoru's claims were true.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to his proximity, the way your nipples tightened and your breathing grew shallow. "I thought we were playing Truth or Dare, not stroking your ego."

"Oh, we are. And I believe it's your turn to ask a question."

You bit your lip. "Why do you have the daughter of your best friend undressed in the middle of the night on a random Wednesday?" 

His lips curved upward, his fingers flexing against the countertop on either side of your hips. "I don't know, maybe because she didn't get what she needed at the party."

"And what do I need?"

Satoru's eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to your parted lips, lingering there for a moment before flicking back up to meet yours. 

"I think you need someone who knows how to appreciate you, love. Someone who can make you feel things those fumbling college boys never could."

"And you think you're that someone, do you?"

"Oh, I know I am. I could make you feel so good, you'd forget your own name."

Shivers ran down your spine as want battled with reason. It would be so easy to give in, to let Satoru have his wicked way with you. But the rational part of your brain knew it was a terrible idea. Still, you couldn't help but lean into him.

"That's a bold claim," you managed, your voice breathier than you would have liked. "But I'm not sure I believe you."

"No? Then how about another dare, since you're feeling so brave?"

Your stomach flipped, nerves and anticipation tangling together. "What did you have in mind?"

His smile was slow, predatory. "I dare you to let me prove it to you."

"Prove what, exactly?"

He leaned in, until his lips were a hair's breadth from yours. "That I can make you feel better than anyone else ever has."

You inhaled shakily, your fingers curling tighter around the countertop edge. "And how do you propose to do that?"

"However you want me to, love. I could use my hands, my mouth, could touch you in places no one else ever has. Make you come so hard, you can do nothing but beg for more."

A shudder ran through you at the promise in his words, your core clenching with need. You could picture it all too clearly — Satoru's hands on your body, his fingers sliding over your skin, wandering lower and lower. His mouth hot and hungry on yours, trailing kisses down your neck, your chest, lower still—

You fought back a moan, trying to maintain some semblance of composure even as your body screamed for his touch. Reaching for your glass, you took a slow, deliberate sip of the vodka, holding his gaze as the liquid burned down your throat.

"Is that so?" you said. "And what makes you think I'd ever beg for you, counselor?"

"Oh, you'll beg. I'll make sure of that. I'll tease you until you're dripping wet and aching for me, until you can't think of anything but how badly you need me inside you. And then, when you're right on the edge, when you're so desperate you can barely breathe,” He leaned in closer, his lips nearly brushing yours, “that's when I'll make you beg."

"You sound pretty confident. But I'm not sure you can back up all that big talk."

Satoru pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes burning with a fierce, hungry intensity. "Oh, I can back it up, love. And then some."

His hand slid up your thigh, his fingers skimming the sensitive skin just beneath the hem of your dress. "But the question is," he continued, his fingers tracing maddening patterns on your inner thigh, his touch light and teasing, "are you ready for me to prove it to you?"

"One dare?"

"One dare is all I need, love."

You shivered at his promise, heat rising deep in your core, your body aching for his touch. God, the things this man did to you—

But you wouldn’t give in that easily. After all, where was the fun in that?

Emboldened, you let the dress slip a bit lower, revealing more of the lacy edge of your bra. "As tempting as that sounds, counselor, I'm afraid I'm going to have to pass on that particular dare."

"Oh? And why's that?"

You shrugged one shoulder, aiming for nonchalant even as your heart raced in your chest. "Maybe I'm not ready for you to put your money where your mouth is. Maybe I want to savor the anticipation a little longer."

"Is that so? Well then, how about another truth instead? Since you seem so fond of them."

Nerves fluttered in your stomach, but you refused to back down. "Hit me."

Satoru leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, his breath hot against your skin. "Have you ever touched yourself while thinking of me?"

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry, your brain short-circuiting as a wave of heat washed over you. Because the truth was—

He pulled back, his eyes searching yours, a knowing glint in their azure depths. "You have, haven't you? You've laid in bed at night, your hand between your thighs, picturing me doing all sorts of things to you."

You didn't need to confirm it, he could tell by the way you trembled as his lips trailed along the line of your jaw, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake.

"Tell me, what was I doing to you?" He caressed the sensitive skin of your throat with his lips, drawing a gasp from your parted lips. "Was I kissing you? Touching you?"

"Yes," you panted, your fingers curling into his silky hair, holding him against you, all good reason vanishing into thin air.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration sending sparks of need skittering down your spine. "Did you come, love? Muffling those pretty moans in your pillow as you cum with my name falling from your lips?"

Your breath caught in your throat, your thighs clenching at the memory — the way you'd writhed against your sheets, your fingers stroking your slick heat, chasing the release that only thoughts of Satoru could bring you.

"Yes," you whispered. “Every single time."

His eyes darkened, his pupils blown wide, his breathing growing ragged. "Where did you imagine me touching you, love? Show me."

Heart pounding, you reached for his hand, your fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against his warm, calloused skin. Slowly, deliberately, you guided his hand to your neck, your breath hitching as his fingers skimmed over your racing pulse.

"Here," you whispered. "I imagined your lips on my neck, your teeth grazing my skin.”

Satoru's fingers tightened on your throat, a possessive gesture that made your core clench. Leaning in, he brushed his lips over your neck, his touch feather-light, teasing. You shivered as his breath ghosted over your sensitive skin, goosebumps rising in its wake.

"Like this?" His lips traced a path of fire from your jaw to your collarbone, his teeth nipping gently at your skin. "Is this how you imagined it?"

“Yes,” you gasped, your head falling back to give him better access, your fingers tangling in his hair. “Just like that."

His tongue flicked out, tasting you, savoring you, as his lips mapped every inch of your neck, finding all the spots that made you shudder and moan.

"Where else?"

Biting your lip, you guided his hand lower, over the swell of your breasts, your nipples tightening beneath the thin fabric of your dress. "Here," you breathed, arching into his touch. "I pictured your hands cupping my breasts, your fingers teasing my nipples.”

Satoru groaned, his control slipping a notch. 

His hand curved over your breast, molding to your shape, his thumb brushing over your nipple in a maddening caress. "Fuck, you feel perfect.”

He tugged at the neckline of your dress, exposing more of your chest to his gaze. Dipping his head, he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to your chest, his tongue darting out to lick over your heated skin.

His lips trailed lower and lower until they hovered just above your nipple, his breath hot and damp against your sensitive skin. And then, he closed his lips around your nipple and sucked, hard, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

You cried out, your back arching into him, your fingers clutching at his bare shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

He caressed your breasts, licking and sucking and biting until you were writhing and whimpering. His fingers plucked at your other nipple, rolling the sensitive peak between his thumb and forefinger until want coursed through your veins like molten lava.

"Keep going, love. Show me where else you want my hands."

Emboldened by his words, you slid his hand lower still, his lips still on your breasts, over your stomach, your muscles quivering beneath his touch. 

Lower, lower, until his fingers were brushing the hem of your dress, dipping beneath the fabric to skim the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You shuddered as his fingers crept higher, teasing you, tormenting you with fleeting, feather-light touches.

"Here," you gasped, your thighs parting. "I touched myself here, imagining it was your hand between my legs, your fingers buried deep inside me, filling me, making me come.”

His fingers inched higher, skimming over your damp, lace-covered sex, making your moan softly. He rubbed slow, maddening circles over your cloth clit, the friction delicious but not nearly enough.

"You're so wet," he marveled, his fingers sliding under the edge of your underwear, gliding through your slick folds with a tortuous, leisurely stroke. "So hot and ready for me. Tell me, love, is this all for me? Do you get this worked up just from the thought of my hands on you?"

You whimpered as his fingers parted your folds, running lightly along your slit, barely grazing your aching clit. He was teasing you, exploring you with a maddening, light touch that set your nerves ablaze, making you part your legs wider for him.

"Yes," you gasped, your head thumping back against the cabinets as he circled your entrance with a single finger, dipping in just to the first knuckle before retreating. "Yes, Satoru, all for you. Only for you.”

He groaned at your admission, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he fought for control. "Fuck, the things you say. You have no idea what you do to me, how badly I want to just bury myself inside you and fill you up so bad.”

But still, he held back, his fingers continuing their lazy, tortuous exploration of your slick heat. He gathered your wetness, spreading it up and over your clit, circling the swollen nub with a slippery, gliding pressure that made your thighs shake and your breath come in shallow pants.

"Satoru," you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders, your hips rolling shamelessly against his hand. "Quit your games. I need more, need you inside me."

He chuckled, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck with his teeth. "Patience, love," he chided, his fingers dipping back down to your entrance, swirling around the rim in mad, spiraling circles. "I want to savor this.”

He punctuated his words by pressing one long, thick finger inside you in one slow, smooth glide. Your back arched, biting your lips to swallow the scream that tore from your throat as your inner muscles clenched around his finger.

"Fuck, you feel incredible." He pumped his finger in and out of your clutching heat, curling it against your front wall. "I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock."

He added a second finger, stretching you deliciously, filling you in a way that was maddeningly good but still not enough. He scissored his fingers inside you, stroking your slick walls, teasing your most sensitive spots until you helplessly moaned into his mouth that hovered over yours.

"Look at you," he marveled, his eyes hot and heavy on your face, drinking in every expression of pleasure that flickered across it. "So responsive, so desperate for my touch. I bet I could make you come just like this, couldn't I? Just with my fingers buried inside you, rubbing all the right spots until you soak my hand and scream my name."

"Yes, oh god, yes—more, Satoru. I need more, make me come.”

But instead of giving you what you so desperately craved, Satoru withdrew his fingers from your aching core, leaving you empty and bereft. You whimpered at the loss, your eyes flying open to meet his, a protest ready on your lips.

But the words died in your throat as you took in the wicked, hungry gleam in his gaze, the predatory curve of his lips. "Oh, I'll make you come, love. But where's the fun in doing it with just my fingers?"

Before you could even begin to process his words, he was sinking to his knees before you, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading them wide. Your dress rode up to your waist, exposing your lace-covered sex to his gaze. 

With that, he dipped his head, his breath hot against your aching skin. He pressed soft and wet kisses to your inner thighs, his lips and tongue and teeth teasing you until you were squirming and whimpering above him.

"Satoru, please," you begged, your fingers tangling in his hair, trying to guide his mouth where you needed it most. "Stop teasing. I need your mouth on me. I need you to make me come."

"What, you begging now? I thought you said you didn't beg for anyone."

“Oh shut up and go to work already.”

"So impatient," he murmured, nipping at your inner thigh with his teeth. "But I'm not done savoring you yet." With that, his mouth trailed up your thigh, getting closer and closer to your aching core with every kiss and nip and lick. 

Your breath came in shallow pants, your hips grinding subtly against his face, seeking more contact, more friction.

When he finally reached your core, he didn't dive in like you expected. Instead, he placed a soft, almost reverent kiss to your sex, his lips lingering, savoring the heat and the dampness and the scent of you. 

"Fuck, you're so perfect." 

Then his tongue darted out and licked a broad stripe up your clothed sex.

You moaned, your thighs falling open even wider, offering yourself up to him. "Please, Satoru," you whispered. "Please, stop your stupid teasing and fuck me already. Please, Satoru, please, please—"

For a moment, he didn't respond, and you thought he might continue to torment you. But then he slowly pushed your underwear aside with his finger. 

He placed soft, delicate kisses all over your sex, tracing your slit with the tip of his tongue, circling your entrance, flicking over your clit in feathery strokes that made you melt.

But it wasn't enough. You needed more. You needed him.

You arched into his face, your hands fisted in his hair, holding him against you. "More. Satoru, damn it, more, fuck me with your mouth, please, please.”

"Fuck, I love it when you beg.” With that, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, the fabric stretching taut as he began to pull them down. “I think you've earned a little reward."

His eyes never left yours, watching your reactions as he slowly undressed you. You gasped at the sudden exposure, the cool air of the kitchen kissing your heated flesh. He slid your lacy fabric down your legs, taking his time to savor the moment. 

Once they were off, he straightened up again, and leaned into you.

"Open your mouth," he commanded.

You hesitated for a moment, but something in his eyes told you there was no point in refusing. You parted your lips and allowed him to stuff the underwear into your mouth. The taste of your own arousal filled your senses.

"Be quiet for me, will you? We don't want to wake Suguru after all.”

Before you could even begin to think about how wrong this all was, Satoru was between your legs again, burying his face between your thighs and under your dress.

You cried out, muffled by the fabric in your mouth, as he licked a broad, flat stripe up your slit, from your entrance to your clit, the warm, wet rasp of his tongue making you squirm. 

He did it again, and again, setting a slow but steady rhythm, his tongue parting your folds, delving deeper with each pass, until he was fucking into your entrance with his tongue.

Your back arched into him, your thighs clamping around his head, but he held you steady, his hands gripping your hips, keeping you spread open for his mouth. 

"Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined.”

He sealed his lips around your clit, sucking hard, the feeling so intense it bordered on too much. He sucked your clit between his lips, flicking it with the tip of his tongue until you were shaking.

You whimpered around the fabric in your mouth that Satoru stuffed inside you to make sure that no one in the house could hear the sinful things he was doing to you as he worked you mercilessly, his tongue dancing over your clit, flicking and swirling and lashing, driving you higher and higher with every pass.

Satoru seemed to understand your body perfectly, reading your desperation in the arch of your spine, the clench of your thighs around his head, the needy, broken sounds that escaped around the fabric in your mouth.

"You want to come, don't you, love? You need it so badly, need my mouth to push you over the edge. But I'm not sure you've earned it yet. I think you can take a little more teasing, a little more torment. What do you think?"

You shook your head frantically, tears of frustration pricking the corners of your eyes. You couldn't take any more, you were sure of it. If he didn't let you come soon, you would surely lose your goddamn mind.

He pressed a soft, almost mocking kiss to your throbbing clit. "No? You don't think you can handle it? But you've been such a good girl, taken everything I've given you so beautifully. Surely you can hold on just a little longer for me."

You let your head fall back, teeth biting into the fabric, so you would keep quiet and just endure his torture. You would do anything, anything at all, if he would just have mercy on you, if he would just give you the release you so desperately craved.

Satoru seemed to sense your surrender. "That's my girl. Just a little longer, I promise. And then I'll make you feel so good.”

He suited actions to words, his mouth descending on you again, his tongue thrusting and swirling and lashing over your clit, driving you to new heights of pleasure with every skillful stroke.

You could feel your orgasm building, ready to snap at any moment. Your thighs were shaking, your stomach clenching, your breath coming in short, sharp pants.

Without warning, he thrust two fingers into you, the sudden stretch burning. His fingers were thick, stretching you deliciously, and you could feel every ridge and callus on his skin. He began to move, thrusting his fingers in and out, hard and fast.

"Good girl, take me in, take me deep."

And then, with a final, bruising suck on your clit and a deft thrust of his fingers into your clenching heat, you felt your orgasm crashing over you, tearing a ragged, muffled scream from your throat.

You shook and shuddered and sobbed through the aftershocks, your inner muscles clamping down on Satoru's plunging fingers. He worked you through it, his mouth and hand gentling but never stopping, drawing out your pleasure until you felt you might die here and there.

"You really come easily, love. Makes me wonder what the college boys did wrong?”

You wanted to curse at him, but you could only whimper in response, your body feeling like it was made of jelly, your mind blissfully blank.

He pressed a final kiss to your clit before straightening up. Then he removed your underwear from your open mouth, allowing you to breathe properly for the first time, but not long enough for his lips to collide with yours.

And then you realized that you were kissing Satoru Gojo for the very first time in your life.

Because Satoru Gojo managed to make you come before he ever kissed you.

It was a deep, sensual kiss that stole what little breath you'd managed to regain. You could taste yourself on his tongue. Satoru moaned into your mouth, his hips grinding against yours, the hard, hot length of him pressing insistently against your thigh. 

He reached for your hand and guided it downwards, encouraging you to touch him through the fabric of his pants. Even with the barrier of clothing, you could feel the heat of his hard length pulsing beneath your palm. 

He was hard and thick, throbbing beneath your touch, and you couldn't help but wonder what he would feel like, skin against skin.

"Feel what you do to me.” He broke the kiss to trail his lips down the column of your neck. "Feel how hard I am for you, how much I want you, how much I need to be inside you, need to feel you squeezing my cock."

"Then do it already." Your legs fall open in invitation, your hands clutching at his belt, urging him closer. "Fuck me, Satoru."

With trembling fingers, you fumbled with the button and zipper in your haste to remove the barriers between you. His hands joined yours, his eyes locked with yours as you worked together to remove his clothes.

You couldn't help but gasp as his cock sprang free, long and thick and perfect. 

“Fuck.” 

The head was flushed and glistening, evidence of his need for you. Your mouth went dry at the sight, a fresh flood of want coursing through your veins.

"Told you I never had any complaints.”

“Oh shut up.” You reached out to wrap your fingers around his length, marveling at the way he pulsed and throbbed in your grip. He was scorching hot and rock hard, and you couldn't wait to feel him inside you, stretching you, filling you, completing you.

Slowly, teasingly, you began to stroke him from base to tip and back again, your grip firm and sure. 

He let out a low moan, his head falling back and his eyes fluttering closed as he lost himself to the feeling of your touch. His hands gripped your hips almost bruisingly, his fingers digging into your soft skin.

“Is this payback now?”

"Why? Can't handle a little teasing, counselor?"

"You play a dangerous game, love. Because I will not stop until I've fucked you senseless, until I've ruined you for anyone else. You're mine now, and I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

You leaned in closer, your lips just a hairsbreadth from his, your breasts pressing against his heaving chest. "Then prove it. Ruin me for anyone else but you.”

Your hand stroked him faster, harder, your grip tightening around his throbbing length. You could feel him growing even harder in your palm, cum leaking from the tip and slicking your fingers, making the glide even smoother.

Satoru was panting now, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he fought to maintain control. “You sure you’re up to this?”

"I dare you," you breathed against his lips.

Satoru didn't hesitate for even a heartbeat. 

His hands left your hips to fist in your hair, pulling you close. His lips crashed against yours, firm and demanding, a claim and a conquest all in one.

He licked along the seam of your mouth, seeking entrance, and you granted it readily, your lips parting on a sigh of surrender. His tongue swept inside, tangling with yours. He explored every inch of your mouth, mapping the contours, savoring your unique flavor like a man starved.

He kissed you deeply, thoroughly, with a skill that left you weak and dizzy. 

Your hands roamed restlessly over his broad shoulders, his muscular back, before tightening in his hair. Your fingers played in his hair, scratching lightly over the short part at the back of his neck and tugging on the longer locks. 

Satoru seemed to really like it, groaning into your mouth and pulling you even closer. His hips rocked against yours, the thick ridge of his cock pressing insistently into you.

"Satoru, please, take me already, need you inside me."

“Can you keep quiet for me, love?”

“Yes, yes. I can be so quiet, please Satoru.”

“Good, because we’ll have a problem if you can’t.”

Satoru's hands slid down from your hips to grip your thighs, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he lifted you up from the kitchen counter like you weighed nothing. 

Your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms around his neck as he held you close, never breaking the kiss. He carried you out of the kitchen and into the living room, navigating the familiar space.

This wasn't the first time he'd been here, after all.

When he reached the couch, Satoru threw you onto the plush cushions. Before you could even catch your breath, he was on you again, his big body covering yours, pinning you to the sofa. 

He grasped your hands and forced them over your head, lacing your fingers together as he pinned you down, taking control in a way that had your breath hitch.

He started kissing and licking his way down your neck, finding all your favorite spots, the places that made you shiver and gasp, exploiting them ruthlessly. His free hand slid down your chest, over the curve of your breast, teasing your nipple. 

"Fuck, Satoru. Feels so good,” you gasped, your head falling back as his lips trailed hot kisses down your neck.

"God, why didn't we do this sooner?" Satoru groaned against your skin. "Think of all the nights we could've spent together, all the time we could've spent fucking each other's brains out."

"Because you were busy being a lawyer overseas, and I was stuck in college."

"Trust me, love, I would've made it work, would've moved back here, and have you bent over the desk in my office, not giving a damn who heard. Would've driven to your college every weekend, just to bury myself in you and make you scream."

His words had you throbbing with need. You could practically feel it — the hard wood of his desk against your skin, the scratchy sheets of your dorm bed underneath you as he pounded into you.

Satoru started grinding against you, rubbing his hard cock right where you needed it most. 

"I could've sucked you off under your desk while you worked," you panted. "Wrapped my lips around your dick and swallowed you down until you couldn't think straight."

"Fuck, and I would've eaten you out in return, snuck into your room and buried my face between your thighs until you forgot your own name."

The thought alone had your core clenching desperately around nothing. You needed his skin on yours like yesterday.

Satoru must've read your mind, because suddenly he grasped the hem of your dress and yanked it up and over your head, throwing it somewhere behind the couch. You were left in only your lacy bra, your skin flushed and heated.

"You're fucking stunning.” His eyes raked over your body as if he wanted to devour you whole. Like he couldn't quite believe you were real, that you were here, that you were his. "I'm the luckiest man alive, getting to see you like this, getting to touch you like this."

He released your wrists, but you kept them obediently above your head, gripping the armrest like a lifeline. His hands roamed all over your hips and thighs, knees pushing your legs apart until you were spread wide open for him.

Satoru reached between your bodies, rubbing the tip of his dick against your dripping core. You could feel him sliding through your wetness, teasing your clit with every stroke, making you whimper and squirm with how badly you needed him inside you.

But he didn't push inside. Instead, he just rubbed himself against you, teasing your clit with every pass.

"Satoru, please," you said, trying to arch your hips, to get him to slip inside. But he held you down, his grip on your hip too strong to fight.

"Please what, love? Use your words.”

You swallowed hard, your pride warring with your desperation. But fuck it, you were too desperate to care about your pride right now. "Please fuck me. I need you inside me, need to feel you inside me. Please, please just fuck me already."

He cursed under his breath, his hips pressing against yours, the head of his cock catching on your entrance. But still, he didn't give in. 

"C'mon, you can do better than that."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the needy sounds that wanted to spill out. "Satoru, I'm fucking begging you here. I need you. Please, I'll do anything, just give me your stupid dick already."

"Fuck, the things you do to me," he gritted out, his control finally snapping. And then, with one hard, deep thrust, he was balls-deep inside you, stretching you out so good it made your eyes roll back.

You bit down hard on your lip to keep from screaming, your back arching off the couch, your nails digging into the armrest. He felt fucking huge like this, so thick and hard and perfect, hitting spots you didn't even know could feel this good.

"You're so tight." His forehead dropped to your shoulder as he tried to keep it together. "So fucking perfect. Like you were made for me." 

"Satoru," you whined breathlessly. "You're so big, fuck, I feel you everywhere."

He let out a strained chuckle. "Can't help it if those college boys you fucked before had pathetically small dicks. Guess you just needed a real man to show you what's what, huh?"

“Oh, shut up.”

Then, without warning, he slammed back in, burying himself to the root in one brutal stroke. He didn't give you a chance to adjust, didn't let you catch your breath. He simply took you, hard and fast and deep, claiming what was his.

He grabbed your legs and threw them over his elbows, spreading you even wider, opening you up completely for him before he pounded into you, his cock hitting deep with every thrust. 

When you opened your mouth to moan or scream or fucking something, he clamped his hand over it, muffling the noise. "Shh. What'd I say? Quiet, love."

You could feel his breath on your face, hot and heavy, as he fucked into you harder and faster. Your muffled cries were barely audible under his palm, making everything feel even more desperate.

You could hear skin slapping on skin, the wet noises of his cock pounding into your soaked core, the smothered gasps and whimpers spilling from your covered mouth. You could feel every inch of him as he moved inside you, the feeling almost too much to take.

Each thrust was harder than the last, his hips slamming into yours so hard it made the couch shake. He was relentless, his pace brutal, as he took you, claimed you, made you his fucking property. 

You could feel your orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in your core, ready to snap at any second.

Suddenly, Satoru shifted your positions, his strong hands gripping your hips as he rolled onto his back and brought you with him. You found yourself straddling his waist, your hands splayed across his bare chest for balance.

"Ride me, love. Take what you need."

You rolled your hips in a slow grind, savoring the feeling of him deep inside you. His head fell back against the pillow, quiet moans rumbling in his chest as you took him inch by inch.

Encouraged by his response, you picked up the pace, rising and falling on his hard length, taking him deeper with each downward thrust.

"That's it, love." Satoru's hands tightened on your hips, helping you keep a steady rhythm. "Ride me just like that."

One of his hands left your hip, sliding up your body to cup your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipple. You gasped at the feeling, your back arching, pushing your chest further into his touch.

Satoru's other hand slid behind his head, propping himself up a bit so he could watch you better. "Fuck, you look so hot like this. My perfect girl.”

You braced your hands on his sweat-slicked chest for leverage, your nails digging into his skin. His hips started to rise to meet your downward thrusts, his pelvis grinding against your clit with every pass. 

"Fuck, just like that. You feel so good. So tight and perfect around me. You're gonna make me come so fucking hard.”

"Satoru," you panted, your head falling back, your spine arching as the tension coiled tighter and tighter in your core. "I'm close. I’m so close—"

But just as you were about to come, Satoru suddenly sat up, his arms wrapping around your waist, his chest pressing against yours. The change in position drove him even deeper, making you cry out and your nails raking down his back.

His mouth found your neck, sucking and biting, leaving hickeys you'd definitely have to cover up tomorrow.

"God, you’re doing so good."

You could tell Satoru was right on the edge with you, his groans turning harsh and throaty, his fingers digging bruisingly into your hips, his movements growing erratic and desperate beneath you.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he warned, his voice strained and breathless. "You're gonna make me fucking come.”

With that, he flipped you over onto your stomach, his hands gripping your hips as he yanked you up onto your hands and knees. He pushed your legs apart with his knees, settling behind you.

You could feel the hot, hard length of him pressing against you before slowly, inch by torturous inch, Satoru pushed forward, sinking into you until he was buried to the hilt. He started to move then, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, setting a punishing pace that had the couch shaking and creaking beneath you.

His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he railed you from behind, hitting even deeper than before.

"Satoru," you gasped, your hands fisting in the cushions, your back arching as he pounded against your cervix again and again. "Oh fuck, yes. Just like that. Don't stop."

His hand slid up your spine to fist in your hair, yanking your head back and bending your spine into a deeper arch. You cried out at the sudden stretch, the change in angle making him hit new spots inside you.

Before you could even catch your breath, he pushed your face down into the couch cushions.

"What'd I say? You gotta keep quiet or I'm gonna have to shut you up myself.”

A shiver raced down your spine at his words, his grip on your hair in the back of your head keeping you pinned in place. You could only moan into the plush cushion beneath you, slowly soaking it with your spit as you whimpered and panted with each deep, brutal thrust.

Satoru's thrusts grew harder, faster, more erratic as he chased his release. His hand in your hair tightened, the sting pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

Satoru suddenly wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you up against his chest, changing the angle yet again.

His thrusts slowed, becoming deep and deliberate. He held you close, one arm around your waist, the other hand splayed across your throat, keeping your head tilted back against his shoulder.

"Tell me, did those frat boys ever make you feel this good?" he panted in your ear, his hips rolling into yours in a slow grind. "Did they ever take the time to fuck you the way you deserve?"

You whimpered, your inner muscles tensing around his thick length as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. "No." Your hands came up to grip his forearm, your nails digging into his skin. "Never like this. They never fucked me half as good as you do."

He hummed, his teeth grazing the side of your neck. "That's a damn shame," he mused, his hips keeping up that slow, deep rhythm that drove you mad. "'Cause you deserve to be fucked right."

As if to prove his point, he thrust into you even deeper. You cried out, your back arching, your nails leaving crescent moons on his arm. His arm tightened around your waist, the other hand reached up. His fingers brushed over your parted lips, feeling the panting breaths escaping you.

"Open up," he commanded.

Obediently, you parted your lips, letting him slip two fingers into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around them, sucking gently, tasting the salt of his skin.

"Fuck, love. Your mouth feels so good.”

You moaned around his fingers as they thrust shallowly in and out of your mouth. His hips picked up speed, slamming into you harder, faster, spurred on by the muffled sounds you were making.

He pushed his fingers deeper, until they brushed the back of your throat. You gagged slightly, your eyes watering, moaning around each thrust.

"Good girl," he praised, his thumb stroking your cheek, "taking my fingers so well, just like you take my cock."

Satoru's hips were pounding into you faster again. His arm around your waist held you steady as he thrust into you, hitting that spot inside you over and over until your eyes rolled back.

Then, his hand slipped between your thighs to find your aching clit. He rubbed the sensitive nub in tight, deliberate circles, the calluses on his fingertips creating the most maddening friction.

Suddenly, Satoru pushed you forward, your face shoving into the couch cushions again. He draped his body over yours, pressing you deeper into the plush fabric, his muscular arm stretching above your head to keep your head down, his hot breath panting against the nape of your neck.

"Gonna come," he gritted out, his hips moving faster, harder. "Fuck, I'm gonna come so fucking hard."

You could only whine in response, the sounds muffled against the cushion your face was pressed into. Above you, Satoru let out a string of curses, his hips stuttering and jerking erratically against your ass as his orgasm hit him. 

He buried himself balls-deep inside you, grinding against your cervix as he pumped you full of his hot, thick cum.

"Fuck, fuck, you feel so fucking good," he babbled, his voice low and tight as he rode out his orgasm. "You take me so fucking good."

He shook and shuddered and cursed as he tried to catch his breath, his sweaty forehead pressed between your shoulder blades. 

Slowly, he straightened up, your hips still raised in the air, and released his grip on your head, allowing you to turn your face to the side and suck in a desperate lungful of air.

But he didn't pull out. Instead, he started thrusting shallowly into your oversensitive core, his softening cock sliding through the sloppy mess he'd made of you. The wet, filthy sounds of it made your face flame, made your core clench weakly around him.

Then, to your shock, he pulled out completely, making you both wince at the sensitivity. But before you could ask what he was doing, you felt his fingers between your legs, spreading your swollen lips apart.

"Fuck, look at that. You’re so perfect. Prettiest cunt I've ever seen."

You whimpered as you felt his cum start to leak out of you, dripping down your thighs and onto the sofa — the family sofa to be exact. But Satoru didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed fucking pleased by it.

Then, you felt his tongue on you, lapping at your used sex. 

He groaned as he tasted your combined arousal, the vibrations making you clench and shiver. His tongue dipped inside you, scooping out his own cum before licking a broad stripe up to your clit.

You gasped, your hand flying down to clamp over your mouth, stifling the desperate moan that wanted to escape.

"One more, love. One more for me. I wanna taste you coming on my tongue, wanna feel you come all over my face."

With that, his mouth sealed over your clit, as he started to suck in hard, rhythmic pulls, you knew you were done for. Your exhausted body had no defense against his ruthless onslaught, his tongue pushing you to the brink with embarrassing speed.

Your thighs started to shake, your abs quivering as the tension built and built, your core clenching around his tongue. Desperate moans spilled from your lips, muffled behind your hand as you tried to stay quiet. 

But fuck, it was hard when he was eating you out like a starving man at his last meal.

"That's it, that's my girl," Satoru encouraged between licks and sucks, his stubble rasping against your inner thighs. "Gonna make you feel so good, love. Ruin you for all other fucking men.”

It was too much, too intense, too fucking good. 

With a sharp cry that teetered on a scream, you shattered apart. Satoru fucked you through it with his tongue, drawing out your orgasm until you were boneless and shaking.

Finally, finally, he relented, pressing a few soft kisses to your twitching core before crawling up your body and collapsing next to you on the couch. 

He gathered you close, smiling at your weak grumbles of protest as he manhandled you into the position he wanted — tucked against his chest, your face pressed into his sweat-damp neck.

"You're perfect, you know that? Like you were made just for me."

His hand drifted up and down your back in soothing strokes, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. The gentle touch made you sigh, your body sinking even deeper into his embrace.

For a long moment, you just laid there in comfortable silence, basking in the bone-deep satisfaction of being so thoroughly fucked by the man you at least expected to ever fuck in your life.

"You know, Suguru's gonna kill me when he finds out about this."

You sighed against his throat, your fingers absently tracing the defined ridges of his abs. "Mm, probably. He made you promise to keep your hands off me, after all.”

"Wait, you knew about that?"

"Mhmm, he mentioned it once. To be fair, he was pretty drunk at the time."

Satoru huffed, his hand drifting lower to palm the curve of your ass. "Guess I fucked that one up, huh?" he drawled, not sounding the least bit sorry. 

"In more ways than one." You shifted in his arms, propping yourself up on your elbow to look down at him, your other hand coming up to stroke his stubbled jaw. "But seriously, this can't happen again, you know that right?"

Satoru leaned into your touch, his eyes drifting shut for a moment as he savored the feel of your fingers on his skin. "Yeah, I know. We just got a little carried away, that's all. Blame it on the alcohol."

You grinned, tracing the curve of his lower lip with your thumb. "Mhmm. I mean, don't get me wrong, it was—"

His eyes opened, fixing you with a heated look that sent a shiver down your spine. "Fucking good?"

"Yeah" Your hand slid down to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “Real fuckking good. But still, we can't do this again."

Satoru's hand continued to run over your ass, his touch sending heat through your body even as you spoke of ending this. "Definitely can't happen again. It would be a mistake."

You nodded, even as you arched into his touch. "A big mistake. Dad would kill us both if he found out."

"He would," Satoru murmured, his other hand sliding up your side, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast. "And I value my life too much to risk it. Even if the temptation is—"

His gaze raked over you, hot and hungry.

"Hard to resist?" you finished for him.

"Impossible to resist," he corrected, his hand cupping your breast now, his thumb grazing over your nipple. "But we have to. This can't be more than a one-time thing."

You bit your lip, stifling a moan at his touch. "Right. One fun night, and then we go back to normal. Like it never happened."

"Exactly." But even as he said it, he was pulling you closer, his hips coming up to meet yours, his length, already hard again, pressing against your core.

You gasped, your eyes fluttering shut. "Satoru—"

"One more time," he breathed, his lips brushing your ear. "One more time, and then we'll stop. We'll be good."

You knew you should say no, should put an end to this before it went any further. But god, the feel of him against you, inside you — it was addictive. You craved it, craved him, like nothing you'd ever known.

"One more time. And then never again."

"Never again," he echoed as he rolled you beneath him. His body covered yours, his mouth claiming your lips in a searing kiss before he buried himself deep inside you once more.

Little did you know, it wouldn't be the last "one more time" of the night. 

Or the morning. 

In fact, you lost count of how many times you and Satoru broke your "never again" promise before the sun finally rose.

Each time you thought you were finished, that you'd finally satisfied the hunger, one touch, one kiss, one whispered word would reignite the flames and you'd find yourself tangled up in him all over again.

Satoru was just that good. And you were just that far gone for him.

Heaven help you both.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Next day you woke up with a serious hangover.

No surprise there.

You stumbled down the stairs, your head pounding and your stomach churning with the aftereffects of last night's alcohol. And, let's be real, the aftereffects of Satoru's very thorough attentions too.

The memories of what you'd done, of how completely he'd wrecked you, made heat rush to your cheeks even as a pleasant soreness throbbed between your legs. God, you could still feel the ghost of his hands on your skin, his mouth on your—

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in."

Your dad's amused voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You blinked, focusing bleary eyes on where he sat at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other.

"Morning, Dad," you croaked, wincing at how wrecked your voice sounded.

He raised an eyebrow. "Rough night?"

You flushed, praying he'd think it was just the hangover and not the vivid flashbacks of Satoru pounding you into the couch. "Uh, yeah. Guess I partied a little too hard."

"I'll say." Your dad folded the paper and set it aside, standing up to grab a plate from the counter. "Made you some breakfast. Greasy eggs and bacon, perfect hangover cure. Eat up, then you can go sleep it off before your big tennis match later."

Right. Tennis. 

You'd almost forgotten about the match in the wake of last night's activities. The idea of running around a court in the blazing sun made your head throb even harder.

"Thanks, Dad," you said, mustering up a smile as he set the plate in front of you. "You're the best."

"Mm-hmm. And don't you forget it." Your dad settled back into his chair, sipping his coffee as he watched you dig into your breakfast. "So, you ready for your big match today? Coach says you've got a real shot at taking the title this year."

You swallowed your mouthful of eggs, trying to muster some enthusiasm despite your pounding head and sore thighs. "Yeah, I'm feeling pretty good about it. I mean, assuming I can get through the match without puking on the court."

"If you can party, you can play. No excuses."

"Wow, so inspirational. You should be a motivational speaker."

Your dad snorted. "I'm just here to keep you in line."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't quite suppress a smile. Your dad could be a real hardass sometimes, but he had a great sense of humor and a surprisingly laid-back attitude when it came to your occasional youthful indiscretions.

Perks of having a young, cool dad, you guessed.

"If I win today, maybe I should make this a pregame ritual," you said dryly, taking another bite of your breakfast. "Tequila shots and a good fu—" you caught yourself just in time, "fun. A fun night before every match."

"Good luck getting that one past your coach." Your dad shook his head, laughing. Then his gaze sharpened, his brow furrowing slightly as he leaned forward to get a better look at you.

"Hey, what's that on your neck? Looks like a bruise or something. Did you get hurt last night?"

Your hand flew to your throat, your fingers pressing against the tender spots you knew were littered with Satoru's marks. Shit, you'd completely forgotten about the hickies in your hungover daze. You probably still smelled like sex and Satoru's cologne too, since you hadn't had a chance to shower yet.

Satoru was probably going to be insufferably smug about marking you up like this.

Bastard.

"Oh, uh, it's nothing. I must've just... bumped into something. You know how clumsy I get when I'm drunk."

Your dad's frown deepened, his eyes narrowing as he studied your neck more intently. For a heart-stopping moment, you thought he might call you on your obvious lie, might put two and two together and realize just what — or who — had left those marks on your skin.

But then he just shrugged, leaning back in his chair and taking another sip of his coffee. "Huh. Well, be more careful next time, yeah? Don't want you getting hurt."

You let out a subtle sigh of relief, your hand dropping from your neck. "Yeah, of course. I'll be more careful, promise."

"Good." Your dad nodded, seeming satisfied with your answer. "Oh, by the way, I invited Satoru to come watch your match today. Figured he could use a break from all those long hours at the office."

You choked on your bacon, your eyes going wide as you sputtered and coughed. "You—you what?"

"Invited Satoru. To your match," your dad repeated, like it was the most normal thing in the world. "He's always been so supportive of your tennis career, you know? Thought it'd be cool for him to see you play in such a big match.”

Cool. Right. 

More like hell, considering the man had spent half the night with his head between your thighs and the other half fucking your brains out.

The thought of facing him now, in broad daylight, with your father right there beside him — it made your stomach churn even harder than the hangover did.

"Oh. That's... great," you managed to croak out, your smile so strained it probably looked more like a grimace. "Thanks, Dad. That was really... thoughtful of you."

"Wasn't it?" He grinned, looking pleased with himself. "I knew you'd be happy to have another friendly face in the crowd, cheering you on."

Friendly face. 

Jesus Christ. 

If your dad had any idea just how friendly Satoru's face had gotten with certain parts of your anatomy last night—

You shuddered, trying to shove aside the vivid flashbacks that kept flooding your mind. Now was so not the time to be thinking about Satoru's tongue or his long fingers or his huge, perfect cock—

Fuck. You were so screwed. In every sense of the word.

How the hell were you supposed to focus on your match, on winning the title, when all you could think about was Satoru's hands on your skin, his breath in your ear, his body moving over and in and around yours?

How were you supposed to look him in the eye, knowing what you'd done, what you'd let him do, how completely you'd surrendered to him in every possible way?

And how were you supposed to do it all with your dad right there, oblivious to the secret brewing between his daughter and his best friend?

You didn't know. You had no fucking clue. 

All you knew was that this match, this day, this whole goddamn situation was shaping up to be one of the most awkward, uncomfortable, excruciatingly tense experiences of your life.

And considering you once drunkenly hit on your TA in front of your whole class, that was really saying something.

But what choice did you have? 

You couldn't exactly tell your dad that Satoru couldn't come, that having him there would be way too distracting. Not without raising all sorts of questions.

You were just going to have to suck it up and act like last night never happened, like it hadn't changed every fucking thing between you and Satoru.

Easy, right?

God, you were so fucked.

next chapter ->

author's note: hii friends !! hope u enjoyed this silly little first chapter of my new series & it didn't come across as creepy, and if it did, just ignore it. it wasn't meant that way, of course.

anywayy, it will have three chapters in total and will be mostly smut, not gonna lie, but i really had fun writing it bc it's just pure tension, teasing and stupid conversations that i love to write haha. and also a ridiculously older satoru and a bold reader ?? i think that's my thing to write haha.

anyway, thank you all so much for reading !! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and i hope this fic brings a smile to your face (or preferably other emotions) whenever you read it. stay awesome, friends, and have a fabulous day !! <33

taglist is closed !! you can subscribe to this story on ao3 to make sure you never miss an update :))

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© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[luveline]

hot bombshell bau!reader flirting and winking at spencer every chance she gets and poor spencer just gets hot and bothered very flustered and blushing😋😋

i love you jade i read ur blog like it's the daily newspaper<33

I love you anon, thank you for requesting ♡ fem!reader

"So," says a voice, low and syrupy as warmth spreads up Spencer's side, "how's my favourite agent?" 

Your perfume a subtle fragrance of jasmine and vanilla alike, sweetness that lingers —and Spencer knows, having thought of you every time he walks past the sugar ring donut stand by the Staples Mill Station for weeks— you put a hand on his shoulder and lean in for a one-armed hug. His skin erupts with goosebumps. 

"Y/N," he says, sounding much too much like a wimp for his own liking. He clears his throat. "When did you get back?" 

He's afraid to look at you. He doesn't have a choice. His heart skips a beat at the state of you, which is to say you look stunning in your dark clothes, a tight cut top that borders unprofessional and a pair of thigh hugging pants that pass the border completely. (He's kidding. Mostly. You're dressed fine. He's a loser, is all.) 

"This morning. They couldn't keep me from you if they tried, handsome. You look good." You disengage from his side. Spencer's relieved and regretful at once. "I love the haircut, they take a little more than you were expecting?" 

"Is it too short?" he asks unsurely. 

"It's perfect."

Spencer's taller than you but he never feels it until you're looking up at him, pretty eyes and quirked lips, permanent amusement in your gaze. "I missed you," you say.

"Y/N," Hotch says as he descends the steps to the bullpen. "We talked about this." 

"Pen and Morgan do it every day." Your eyebrows pinch together. 

Hotch doesn't say anything else, an empty coffee mug in hand as he passes. You don't baulk at his disapproving look, the opposite, sitting on the edge of Morgan's desk to kick your kitten heels gently, a slow back and forth that has Spencer's eyeline pulling down your legs. He shakes it off, but not before you've noticed. 

"You don't mind, do you, babe?" you ask. "My flirting?" 

It'll probably kill him sooner rather than later. "No. Don't mind." 

"'Cus I can stop, I promise. But you're the kind of boy that should be flirted with, you know? And the kind of smart that makes you crazy attractive, which is unfair. It's not like you needed help in that particular department." You lean back as you talk, scrounging around Morgan's things.

"Second shelf," Spencer says. 

You stop your searching to grin at him. Pleased, you reach down to the second drawer of Morgan's desk and find what you'd been looking for, a coveted, half-eaten pack of cherry twizzlers. 

"But we're not like Pen and Morgan," you say, bringing a twizzler to your mouth. 

"We're not?" Spencer asks, confused. He may not summon the necessary charisma to flirt back, but he likes what you have. 

"Nope." You take another bite, chew, leaving Spencer in anticipation. Finally, you swallow, lips curving into an even stickier smile. "'Cus Pen and Morgan are never gonna happen. They're better as friends…" 

You slip down off of Morgan's desk, leaving his twizzlers behind. Spencer has enough sense about him to anticipate your approach. He's proud of himself for the composure he maintains as your footsteps slow. He even takes a step back to follow you, to your abject delight. 

"But we're not just friends, are we?" you ask softly. You lift your chin. He can smell the cherry on you. 

"Y/N, enough," Hotch says from somewhere behind. You refuse to look away, and while Spencer fears his chief's tone, he manages to hold your gaze. "HR will mandate another presentation." 

"It's alright, Hotch," Spencer says. His cheeks are flushed and his palms are clammy, but his voice holds up. "I don't mind." 

"I'm sure you don't." 

"This could all be avoided if we took this somewhere a little more private," you murmur. 

"Enough. I won't tell you again, Y/N. Shouldn't you be helping Penelope with her ViCAP recalibration?" Hotch asks pointedly. 

Spencer takes it for what it is; an effort to separate you from each other before it goes too far. You know it too, rolling your eyes at Spencer like you've a shared secret —Can you believe this guy?— clasping his arm loosely in farewell.

"See you later, Spence." You call him handsome, babe, bub, even sweetheart, but Spence is the worst of all of them because of how you say it, your voice entrenched in pure honey. His heart pangs as you go.  

Hotch lingers by Spencer's side, coffee freshly filled and steaming in rings. "You know, you're getting better," he says sympathetically. 

Spencer rubs the bridge of his nose roughly. "Thanks." 

[neon-danger]

Did you notice any Jalex moments in the video?

Not really??? They didn’t really interact except in the ambulance and in the bar