#hmm calls for a new tag

[rimeiii]

KagePro binge honestly making me revisit my Souyo Kagepro AU fic so I'm just. Going to flesh out the world properly here!

The fic in question btw, it was originally a very Yosuke-centric fic and is heavily based on Ayano's Theory of Happiness. I teased a sequel back then based on Lost Time Memory, and I have an idea of how I want it to go, but brainworms have not started again shshshsh. Hopefully this little worldbuilding helps get them going again lmao

The Heat Haze is a phenomenon only found in Inaba, and is accessed through the televisions in Inaba on the 15th of August, every year like clockwork. The only way to enter this world is for someone else to push you into the television, either willingly or by accident. While stuck in this world, you'll be tormented by your Shadow, and the only way for you to return back to the real world is to accept your Shadow. But don't take too long, because the portal closes once the day rolls over to the 16th of August, and by then your death is assured. If you managed to accept your Shadow, you'll be brought back to the real world and will be rewarded with your Eye Ability, corresponding to your true desires.

Yosuke has an adoptive younger brother in Teddie who's around a year younger than him, and they moved to Inaba while Yosuke was in second grade. Much like in canon, Yosuke was bullied because of his relation to Junes. He tries his best to make sure Teddie doesn't get the brunt of the harassment - all Teddie knows is that people are mean to his elder brother.

The Hanamura siblings were home alone and doing a little bit of playful roughhousing when Yosuke accidentally pushed Teddie onto the TV of their living room. The younger Hanamura disappeared into the screen, causing Yosuke to panic, only for Teddie to reappear an hour later, his eyes now red and looking shaken up. The date was August 15th. Yosuke was in fourth grade. And years later, he still blames himself for the incident, even though Teddie has already forgiven Yosuke a long time ago.

It was around this time that Yosuke started to become friends with Chie and Yukiko. And Yosuke, being the innocent and naïve boy he is, asked the two about the red eyes - and that was how Teddie was eventually integrated into their friend group, as the three with the red eyes helped Yosuke deal with the constant harassment from his peers.

It didn't help that Chie and Yukiko, both having red eyes, were bullied and harassed for it endlessly. The same thing had started to affect Teddie, as per the younger Hanamura's admission. So, they decided to stick together and support each other, Yosuke asserting that 'red is the color of a hero', and them using their abilities to help him and each other.

Anyways, let's talk eye abilities. Teddie's wish was to be able to cheer up Yosuke - which is why his Eye Ability is to be able to influence people's emotions through his words. His relatively innocent and simple mindset allowed him to reconcile with his Shadow easily. Meanwhile Yukiko and Chie entered the Heat Haze by accident, after a childish argument leading to them pulling each other into the TV. Reconciling their differences, it became clear Yukiko only wanted to be able to listen to Chie because she feels Chie's tendency to physically fight back could be dangerous to her, while Chie just wanted to protect the people she cares about. It translates to their Eye Abilities - Yukiko can soothe people's emotions with her presence alone, while Chie gains super strength. Chie and Yukiko were in third grade when this happened.

Kanji, Naoto, and Rise were pushed into the television by Adachi, Yosuke's uncle who took in the Hanamura siblings when their parents passed away, in a desperate bid to figure out how the red eyes worked to try and get rid of it once and for all. Kanji only wished to be able to not worry his ma because of his desperate search for an identity - this translated to his ability to sense other people's emotions. Naoto only wished to be more skilled in her detective work, seeing it as an out for the harassment she receives in the force - this translated to a limited ability to listen to other people's thoughts. Rise only wanted to be able to live a normal life, true to herself without the media on her back - which is why her eye ability is a lot like Kido's (invisibility).

Yosuke and Yu are the outliers. Yosuke gains his eye ability after forcing himself into the TV World, firmly believing he is the only one who can save Kanji and Naoto (and Rise too, but at the time he only knew the two to be targets). He faces his Shadow but couldn't make it in time to leave the Heat Haze, where he is forced to watch everything unfold in the real world by Izanami. She sees Yosuke as a symbol for humanity's tendency to ignore the truth, as Yu had chosen to not believe Yosuke and his story regarding the red eyes. Yosuke's eye ability, stemming from his wish to be a hero and save everyone, is the ability to see into other timelines.

Meanwhile, Yu somehow got his eye ability from reconciling with his guilt. Ever since Yosuke entered the Heat Haze, Yu has had dreams of Yosuke flinging himself off the school rooftop, his eyes red. Finding it in himself to apologize to Yosuke and accept his words as truth made Yosuke able to pass on an eye ability to Yu. His Eye Ability, stemming from a desire to be able to see the truth for a happy ending, allows him to act on Yosuke's Eye Ability, directing everyone to that elusive happy ending only they can see.

Except it wasn't really Yosuke who gave that Eye Ability to Yu. It was Izanami, who still wanted to believe in humanity. The dark part of her had sent an envoy into the real world to corrupt Adachi, seeing no point as to why the Red Eyes should exist if the Heat Haze merely claims lives and those who escaped the Heat Haze had to live in constant harassment either way. But a tiny part of her wants to believe, to trust - which is why she allows Yosuke to have the slightest bit of influence in the real world, which he uses on Yu.

[randomminty]

please i am BEGGING for you to drop the other roleswap champion designs,,, i had no idea how hard cynthia would slay in lance’s fit and my animal brain is now starving for roleswap steven and lance if you ever feel confident enough to post them,,,,,;

[insert meme of guy on his hands and knees offering a wad of fanned-out dollar bills here]

TY JUST FOR YOU ANON…. i redrew my old designs. I still cant figure out stevens design but this will do

Just for fun ill throw my old designs/brainstorming under a read more too!

This is a year old. Theyre so ugly. Okay

[stephantom]

I’d need to watch it again to confirm this, but I’m pretty sure that Thomas Becket is the only character who independently initiates touch with Henry?

There are plenty of people whom Henry touches, and it’s almost always possessive or threatening: the villager woman in the first flashback scene, the Saxon peasant girl (and possibly the old man? I think he prods at both of them with his riding crop), Gwendolen (holding her shoulders/neck), the French prostitute (kissing, leaning over, sitting on, slapping her butt), his sons (pushing and kicking them), the bishop (strangling), his barons (clutching onto one, tapping one’s head to indicate his vapidness), and Thomas too—(clasping his shoulders when he realizes Thomas is hurt, holding his hand to put on the chancellor ring).

Interestingly, I don’t think we ever see Henry touch or be touched by his mother or his wife. There’s the moment when he grabs/kicks their needlework, and later on he knocks all the plates off the table, possibly vaguely in their direction—so there are two physical interactions which are violent but still sort of… distant? And still the direction is just Henry to them (in terms of physicality, anyway—verbally, they do initiate conversations/fights with him).

Does anyone touch Henry? There are the monks who whip him in the end, but Henry has ordered them to do it. Likewise, there’s the servant/valet/page who begins to wipe him dry in the bath scene, but again, that’s someone performing a duty. Thomas Becket though, cuts in and takes over the drying, and the dialogue tells us explicitly that he’s not expected to do this, and doesn’t have to (“You’re a nobleman—why do you play at being my valet?”) but Becket seemingly wants to do it, and he knows Henry likes how he does it: enthusiastically, confidently, warmly, and freely (“No one does it like you, Thomas”). He towels Henry’s head, helps Henry put on his boots, and then casually uses Henry’s legs to push himself up to stand.

There’s the scene in Henry’s tent, after the French prostitute has left and the two of them are sitting on the bed: Becket sort of leans in and briefly clasps Henry’s arm where it’s lying in his lap, casually and warmly.

There’s also the getaway horse ride, where Becket is holding onto Henry, arms wrapped around him, and they’re both laughing and smiling. Henry’s shirt actually falls open a little and Becket’s hand winds up on his bare torso.

And then there are the thwarted attempts at touch, after the split: the two scenes where Henry accuses Becket of not loving him. Both times, Becket moves toward Henry and reaches out to touch him, and both times, Henry moves away and tells him to keep his distance.

They’re quick little things, but if they are actually the only instances of anyone touching Henry affectionately (or even of their own volition) that we see over the course of the movie, it does support an impression of Henry as fundamentally isolated—maybe there is truth to his claim that Becket is the only person who’s ever loved him.

What’s tragic is that 1) Henry doesn’t really know how to express love himself (see: Henry expressing nothing but violence and entitlement to everyone else around him, and even to Becket for the most part), and 2) Becket’s love, albeit huge in Henry’s world, is conflicted and unfulfilling—for both of them.

Becket might be the only person who’s dared to reach out to Henry and meet him on something close to a human level, and Henry loves him for it, but why does Becket do it? Part of it may just be an instinct of Becket’s to fulfill a need where he sees one, if he can, and if it benefits him. I think it’s so interesting that Henry seems obsessed with the question of whether Thomas really loves him, when it seems the truth might be that Thomas actually doesn’t know; maybe it’s an unanswerable, even nonsensical question to him. Like, what else could he do? I don’t know. “Insofar as I was capable of love, yes I did [love you].” But the fact that his last words, unwitnessed and private, are, “Poor Henry.” Fuck me up.

Ok, that last paragraph got away from me and now I can’t stop. Tempted to draw comparisons to “Beauty and the Beast” (this is a sad version where no magical transformation happens… unless you take a particular Catholic stance and consider that both of them maybe took real solace and meaning in Thomas being made a saint and that Henry maybe found real absolution through his penance).

I also want to compare all of this to “The Lion in Winter”, where it feels like, rather than a story about one lonely monster in a castle full of people he sees as objects, it’s a whole microcosm of traumatized and power-hungry people, reaching out for power and security and love and stabbing each other in the back, over and over. (Like, of course his mother and wife and kids have complex feelings for him—some of which involve love!) I think that depiction is better and less myopic, more true to life and probably a more accurate portrait of the historical figures involved (even when it comes to Henry and Becket—Becket was of that world too, after all), but I think I’ve rambled enough about all of this, so I’m going to end this post now. I’ll just say that there’s something nevertheless appealing about the boiled-down fairytale melodrama of “no one else ever loved me but you!”

[zemnarihah]

look AWAY if you don't want to hear about my love life!!!

he gave me a hug after class and clearly wanted a kiss but was still too nervous to initiate it even though we've kissed on two separate occasions. i went home but he still had an evening class and was working on homework at the school during the break between them and he sent me this. and drove from the school to my apt just to kiss me. and he kissed me once and then said wait, can I have another? so we did and he said okay, one more. and we kissed again. and then he left and presumably went right back to the school for his class.

it's so strange i feel like i'm in high school or something it feels so innocent and sweet. but no boy ever liked me this much in high school or was so earnest about it at the very least. we had a critique for a final project in class today and even though i was sitting on the opposite side of him as the wall all the pieces were hung on i could see him out of the corner of my eye turning to look at me every couple minutes. and sometimes he would scoot over to me and say smth but sometimes he would just look at me for a bit and then turn back. i truly don't know if i've ever been liked this much. like e and i loved each other i mean we were together for a year and obviously i don't think this guy could love me yet since we haven't known eachother long enough yet but i feel like he likes me more than e ever did honestly. it makes me wonder though if he could love me i'm scared he's just infatuated and then once my veneer wears off for him he's gonna be disappointed. i don't know i still am enjoying my time with him and it feels so nice to have someone seem to really really want me. I DONT KNOOOOOWWW he's sweet and i like him and the more i get to know him the more i think we actually have so much in common and get along really well. what am i to do besides continue seeing him. and if he continues to do stuff like this wellllll i shall have no choice but to like him more and more

[coridallasmultipass]

Finally got around to buying the Nikke profile stickers I want since I keep drawing dupes! Bought all the Bow Wow Paradise ones!! It was one of my fave events bc I love dogs and dog girls and Happy Zoo and ESPECIALLY Biscuit so much. As you can see, I got all the 'dog' girls as my showcase team, too, lol:

Also, as an aside, I just got a new personal record in Overclock at level 16!! Which is why I remembered I needed to edit my profile when I went to check if it changed to 16 (I think I was at 12 maybe last time they ran Overclock in the Simulation Room).

[eeveekitti]

finished monk's campaign!! oe ending spoilers under the cut

[dulcewrites]

6, 9, 20 for my boobear clarisse please!

6. What is your oc’s vocabulary like? Does it match the way they talk? How would you describe their speech?

- I would describe her speech as calming but authoritative. Through her majors (criminal justice on a law track and english), she has became extremely well spoken and has a pretty vast vocab. She considers it one of her best traits in terms of university. But this really only happens when she is sure of herself/the situation. It can all go out the window once flustered (something she must work on)

9. Is your oc afraid of touch or do they actively seek it out? Is there a reason for this? What are the exceptions?

- she’s a pretty affectionate person with everyone. Though she does have to remind herself that not everyone likes that. She comes from an affectionate family so she probably picked it up there. One thing that has made her a bit.. iffy about it is that she’s been called a ‘tease’ by certain guys bc of said affection. It’s def one of those ‘a woman is just nice and a man takes it as flirting or an invitation of sex’ situations

20. Does your oc have any pleasure that embarrasses them so they keep it secret? Or are they open about all the things they enjoy?

- she’s a huge closet wwe fan. It’s not that she’s embarrassed per se, it’s just that no one else around her cares about it, so she geeks out and watches in private lmao. As a retired theatre girlie, it is the perfect sport for her follow. The costumes, the storylines… yeah she loves it

Oc asks for myrah, clarisse, nina, and jasmine

[sukunasteeth]

Sukuna has never said no to you.

It didn’t matter what the request was, simple or complicated, easy to fix or a days-long job, Sukuna was always at your side, completing the task as fast as he needed to to keep you satisfied. He would love to deny it, you’re sure, but evidence proves time and time again that he puts your needs and wants at the top of his priority list. 

And you were curious how far you could go with it.

The two of you are sitting in your underwear at the breakfast nook, warming yourselves in the bay window while the morning sun starts on the leftover night time chill. It wasn't quite time for breakfast, still too early for the both of you. In the meantime, you sip on your morning brews, preserving the comfortable silence. Sukuna is flipping through the day's newspaper, his eyes are groggy with sleep and he hasn't said more than a handful of words to you yet. He wasn't a morning person.

You were starting to change that.

"Kuna," You call to him, nudging him with your foot from your corner of the window bench.

"Hmm?" He doesn't look up from the paper, but his hand reaches down and grabs your foot, pulling it into his lap. His thumbs start to subconsciously knead at your muscles.

"I want these." You hold up your phone, which you had previously been scrolling through in an attempt to find something ridiculous for this exact moment. You were sure you had found it, something even Sukuna would find unnecessary. 

And yet, he merely glances at your screen, takes in the sight for all of two seconds, and then returns his attention to whatever news article he was in the middle of.

"My wallet's on the counter." He clears the sleep from his throat not sparing a second look. 

You blink at him in surprise.

"D-Did you even see what it is?" You flip your phone around to make sure you were displaying the correct thing. 

Sukuna is frowning before he looks up again, curious at your persistence. He gently cups your hand, bringing it only a minuscule amount closer to examine your screen a second time. 

You were on one of the most luxurious brand’s websites, showing him an incredibly regular pair of panties, no straps, no details, all black- with one of the most outrageous price tags you had ever seen for something so ordinary. 

Sukuna cocks a brow at you over your phone, "Can't imagine you need more panties when you're constantly stealing my boxers. But whatever, hand it over. I know my card number-"

"Kuna," You interrupt him with a surprised laugh, holding fast to your phone when he tries to pluck it out of your hands, "they're a thousand dollars."

He glances back, his eyes focusing lower on the screen where you know the price tag to be. The newspaper in his hands drops down, momentarily forgotten by what he sees. For a moment, you think you've found his limit.

"Wait, are those red one's assless?" He points just below the price, where the recommended products are depicted. "Get those too."

You drop the phone down so that he meets your eyes, which are wide with shock.

Sukuna always took care of you. Always insisted on being the provider of any single thing that you may need; a warm meal, a soft bed, anything your eyes twinkled at that was available for purchase- even if you would never think of buying or owning it. Granted, you never wanted much in terms of material possessions, so you didn't realize the true extent of Sukuna's leniency until now.

It was slightly intimidating, and part of it felt wrong. Sukuna had money, plenty of it, but that didn’t mean he should feel the need to spend copious amounts of it on you just because you could ask him to. He was giving you too much power, it felt like.

You huff through your nose, frowning at him, which only has him tilting his head further to the side in question.

You ignore it, setting your phone onto the window seat and crawling your way closer to him, until you can gather up his face in your hands and lock his gaze into yours.

He glares at you past smushed cheeks, but doesn't make a move to break free of your hold, humoring you. "The hell are you doing-"

"You know you don't always have to say yes to me?"

Now that has him taken aback. His mouth automatically opens for a witty response, but your question seems to have effectively taken the words from his mouth. You can see the cogs in his head turning, and what you wouldn't give to peer inside his mind and hear his thoughts.

It takes him a moment, but eventually that familiar confident smile stretches across his sleepy face. His hands seem to instinctively slide their way up your bare legs until his fingers grip your hip bones, pressing into you. 

He hums, "When have you ever said no to me?"

You scoff, ready to give him a prime example, but end up coming up short. The two of you loved to tease each other with disobedience, but in the end you were eager to give Sukuna anything his heart desired. You loved to please him, it was one of your favorite things to do, in fact.

"You never ask anything ridiculous of me." You remind him, smiling as one of his warm hands slides back down your waist and dips into the pair of his boxers you were sporting that day. 

"You know what's ridiculous?” His voice wraps around your throat, and suddenly has you swallowing past the delicious grip. You're folding into him before you even realize it, at the mercy of his calloused hands. "The implication that I wouldn't do just about anything for you."

You can't help but sigh hopelessly, although it comes out as a desperate noise that pleads him for more. You really were all his, just like he loved to tell you.

"Now hand me your phone." It's a whisper, coaxing you. "I wanna see you in red."

You can’t say no. 

At least it was mutual.

[cryobabiess]

Pairing: Emperor Caracalla x concubine!reader

Summary: After a public tantrum at a senator's gathering, Geta sends Caracalla's most beloved concubine to comfort his mad brother. Tags: hurt/comfort, slightly NSFW, implied/mentioned sex, Caracalla has serious mommy issues, nipple play, breastfeeding :/ (sorry), short fic, Caracalla is obsessed with your big naturals I guess idk AN: I'm not sure if there's any Otessa Moshfegh enjoyers out there, but this lil mini fic is inspired by Lapvona. Caracalla's man-child vibe reminded me of Merek, so naturally I had to write the most strange and off-putting fic to satisfy my weird-girl impulses. Enjoy, freaks!

Hurt by his brother’s callous words, the divine emperor Caracalla had fled the senator’s banquet in a fit of rage. It only takes a single tense glance from Emperor Geta for you to receive his silent command to follow after his mad brother. It does not take long to find him.

Like always, he hides away under a golden table tucked in the far corner of the throne room. His sniveling echoes off the tall marble walls. You slowly approach his curled up form, as if not to startle a wild hare.

“Caracalla. You must come out now.” You call his name softly.

“I will not.” He croaks through his tears, turning his back towards you. With a sigh, you sink to your knees, extending your open arms towards him.

You wait for Caracalla to find his sense. After a few moments, He finally turns to you to reveal his face—pale, rosy, and wet.

“Has brother sent you to scold me? I am no child!” Spite coats his words. You smile at the absurdity. He could order your head on a pike if he so pleased, but prefers for you to indulge his brooding. A god-king with the whims of a spurned child.

“No, I do not seek to scold, little prince. Come now, so that I may hold you.”

And with that, the emperor crawls to you.

He settles into your arms and you cradle his torso, the luxurious fabric of his ornate robes pooling at your lap. His cheek rests atop your bosom like a newborn babe—he weeps like one too.

“It is unjust! Brother always has the last word, yet I am eldest!” Caracalla laments, his tears wet the bodice of your stola.

You use your free hand to smooth tendrils of copper hair away from his damp face. A tantrum of this magnitude was not uncommon for the young emperor, though you often wondered how a man could display such behaviors at the age of twenty and one. Caracalla was distinctly tender, despite his blood lust. His ego was delicate, easily wounded by Geta’s pragmatism and rigid sensibility.

“He wishes to be rid of me, I know it.” He sniffles, his hand reaching to fiddle with the pendant resting at the base of your neck. You smile softly despite growing weary of this routine.

“Don’t be without reason, mea dulcis. You are invaluable to Rome and all her subjects. Geta speaks without tact when he is cross. You must know this too, hmm?”

Caracalla thinks for a moment, brows knitting together in contemplation.

“He is unkind. It should have been him to suffer in the womb, not I.”

You can’t help but laugh at his juvenile description of his brother's malicious cruelty. Frustration flashes across Caracalla’s face as water threatens to brim his eyes again.

“Peace, my lamb. No more tears.” You coo, using a thumb to swipe away at the wetness—but it is too late. Your laughter invited a new wave of angry tears. He buries his face in your breasts, jeweled fingers dragging down the fabric of your stola. His mouth quickly finds your nipple. You hiss, resisting the urge to pull him away from your flesh.

It brings the emperor great comfort to suckle you. Geta had explained Caracalla’s affliction once before.

“Our own mother denied him her breast; she believed him to be cursed. Perhaps he held on to that trangression. He called for a wet nurse until the age of ten and two. My brother has always suffered from madness, you see.”

You had taken prior notice of this habit. After he fucks you like an animal in heat, he often drifts back to your tit, lazily sucking and nibbling until sleep takes him. You thought nothing of it until emperor Geta revealed it’s cause to you.

And though you had no milk to bear, tranquility came over the man as if he had been fed. Eyes closed and breath even, he plays with a tendril of your hair as he rolls your swollen nipple in his hot mouth—lost in bliss. It is odd, but you pity him. With his lips so flush against you and his expression finally at peace, one could forget the madness, the carnage, the rage.

Sometime later, Caracalla regains his composure, standing straight with his shoulders back, returning to a proud and stately posture. He crudely wipes the spit from his chin with the back of his hand.

“You will attend to me in my chambers tonight.” He commands before returning to the festivities.

[oatmealwrites]

JJK Warming You Up!

how they warm you when the heat is out! [NSFW]

non-curese au ig -> let me be happy

regular master list | JJK masterlist

Tags: established relationships, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, creampies galore, no protection, couch sex, semi public sex, car sex, breeding kink [sukuna], pure filth, maybe there's some plot [not rlly], 18+, MDNI, im so sorry in advance fr

Characters: Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Toji, Kamo Choso, Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, Higuruma Hiromi, Ryomen Sukuna, Shoko Ieiri

not proofread

word count: 5.2k [IM SORRY OK im ovulating it's not my fault]

~~~~~~

Nanami Kento -> the heater is out!

The shared apartment is colder than you expect when you and Kento return home from a long day of work. Kicking your shoes off and heading for the thermostat to check the frigid temperature, you move to prepare dinner while your husband calls the heating company– confirming your suspicions that it was down for the whole neighborhood given the winter storm. You both eat a warm meal while heavy snow falls outside the window and the temperature remains steadily dropping. 

After finishing dinner, you lay against his chest in a cuddled position on the couch beneath several layers of throw blankets. Kento always insists on watching the evening news to stay up to date on current events while you nuzzle into his neck in an attempt to stay warm. 

His gaze is intently focused on the news anchor going over the current stock market reactions to geopolitical tensions, but his hand falls from your waist to play with the hem of your work skirt. It’s a long, professional, knee-length fabric that he pushes up slightly to rest his hand in between your plush thighs.

“Kento– your hands are cold.”

“Hmm?” he hums, clearly not caring. “But it’s so warm here.”

You can’t see his fingers underneath, but you can certainly feel them. He keeps kneading and pinching the flesh as you paw at him to keep his cold hands to himself. Kento keeps up his ministrations for a few more minutes until he eventually guides you to lay flat against the sofa cushions; without a word he plants a quick kiss to your lips before dipping under the blankets.

It’s his favorite to warm you up, so why not do it now when you really need it the most? ;)

He takes his time eating you out from underneath the fuzzy fabric; your skirt is hiked up to your waist and he simply pushes your panites to the side to make room for his mouth. Breath hot on your weeping cunt, his nose ruts against your puffy clit as his tongue works its way inside. The sighs escaping your lips are a siren’s call as he pathetically grinds into the cushions in a poor attempt to relieve the erection hard in his slacks. 

No matter how many times you and Kento get physical, it always feels so fresh and erotic. The messy french kiss he’s giving your pussy leaves a pool of saliva and slick staining the fabric of the couch beneath your hips. Slipping in a slim long finger, he drags his tongue further up to lick and suck at your clit.

He continues pumping his finger in and out, adding in a second one to grind against your walls in search of your g-spot; the way you whimper and twitch is indication when his finger pads rub against it. The feeling is euphoric and the temperature no longer causes you discomfort. Sweat beads at Kento’s forehead and pulling back and up from the blankets, his hair is slicked back from the heat generated.

He doesn’t let you pout long, upset at your denied orgasm, before he shimmies down his slacks and boxers and kicks them to the living room floor. Delicious length grinds on your lower navel a few times, admiring the way his length measures to just how deep it’s about to be inside you, before he slaps your clit with his flushed tip for good measure and slides in.

Sex with Kento when it’s cold out is never one round; his stamina keeps up as he’s determined to make sure you keep warm. And the best way to do that? With your feet on his shoulders as he pumps you full of multiple loads of his hot cum. He’s not satisfied until he’s shooting blanks, there are fat tears coating your eyelashes, and there’s so much cum leaking from your pussy it makes you groan at the sensation of being so stuffed. 

What a gentleman~

Fushiguro Toji -> no cold feet!

It’s impossible to get warm at all as you shuffle beneath the covers of your shared bed. Your knees are originally tucked into yourself for warmth, but when your back hurts from the angle, you kick them out again with a shiver. You’re tucked into Toji with your back nuzzled in his chest, but the body heat isn’t enough to ease the chill in your bones. With a gruff sigh, you frown when he holds you still as if the temperature doesn’t affect him at all.

Though you’re pretty sure he’s the one who forgot to pay the heating bill.

You shuffle around once more before a strong forearm holds your waist firmly into him.

“Stop fucking moving.”

With a sigh, you halt your squirming; the deep and tired sound of his voice making you feel a little guilty for the way your movements have woken him up. But it’s no use, the cold sheets keep you shivering despite the way his hot breath pants on your neck.

You wait to hear his light snores even out before shuffling once again; the grip on your hips tightens to a vice.

“Stop putting your cold feet on me.”

“Ughh, Tojiii” you whine out and place the soles of your feet on his hot calves again. “I can’t help it.”

An annoyed sigh escapes his lips and with minimal effort he flips you over and onto your back; a strong muscular thigh splays your legs with his knee grinding into your cunt. A whimper escapes you at the movement. 

“S’to keep your damn feet off mine.”

You furrow your brows at him and he responds by peeling an eye open and smirking devilishly at you. He flexes the muscles of his thigh to pulse against your clothed pussy and leans in to place a few hot open mouth kisses along your neck.

“Toji–” You warn.

He chuckles into your throat and lifts himself up to hover over you; his leg still between your own. “Hmm? Not my fucking fault, you’ve been grinding your ass into my crotch all night.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down a bit, a bratty look on your face. “I can’t help it! It’s too cold!”

He latches his lips to yours and slowly replaces his thigh with the erection pulsing in his gray sweatpants; a small stain of precum already pooling from arousal. A calloused hand pinches your pajama pants and tugs them down and off your ankles before tossing them to the floor.

The coolness makes you shiver and huddle into yourself while Toji tuts in disappointment before splaying you open once more. Impatient hands tug down his own sweatpants and kicks them off somewhere under the sheets before a long finger dips to slide up and down your slick folds.

“Shiiiit, you all worked up already? Did you plan this?”

You roll your eyes and tug him down to kiss you again, that way his cocky mouth wouldn’t piss you off anymore. He chuckles a few times before sitting back on his heels to peel off his boxers and free his cock from the confines of fabric; instead of reaching forward to place himself at your hips again, he throws your calves over his shoulders.

“S’the only way to keep those fucking ice cold toes off of me.”

The rest of the night he ensures each position he fucks you in is one where your feet are no where near him. Over his shoulders, behind him when he pounds into you in doggy, even in a mating press he ensures your icicle-like appendages are nowhere near him. Even when you're both panting, covered in sweat, and loads of hot thick cum is seeping pathetically from your abused cunt, Toji ensures when you lay back down for bed, your cold feet are as far away as possible. 

Kamo Choso -> matching sweatshirts look better on the floor!

When your boyfriend initially invited you to his and his brother’s apartment, you figured it would be like any other casual movie night. Instead, you sit shivering at the kitchen island while Choso and Yuji try to figure out why the central air is stuck on ‘cool’ instead of ‘heat’, and Nobara and Megumi move to turn the oven on in an attempt to get some sort of hot air. 

Arms tucked into yourself, you’re beyond grateful for wearing a hoodie to the apartment and not the original tee you had initially planned on. It’s a sweatshirt that matches with Choso, having exchanged them during the holidays as a cute couples gift; though now the fabric barely warms your chilled skin up at all. 

“Here, let’s get you something thicker to wear ok?”  Choso’s voice mumbles concern in your ear as strong arms wrap around your waist; gentle kisses litter your neck in a silent apology for the temperature. 

You hum in agreement and hop off the island stool while Nobara, Megumi, and Yuji head over to the couch to start a movie and collect every throw blanket available. Choso’s room is slightly messy, his bed unmade and some clothes littering the floor, but you don’t mind as he digs through his drawers in search of sweatpants. 

When he tosses them to you, you don’t hesitate to slide down the cool fabric of your jeans and kick them to the side; Choso stands idly by the door eyeing the way your purple panties hug your ass just right.

“Take a photo perv, it’ll last longer.” You muse while holding up the sweatpants to see how long they might fall on your legs.

Choso laughs gently before twisting the lock on the bedroom door and pushing down the fabric in your hands, preventing you from putting them on.

“Hm? What are you doing Cho?”

He hums and reaches up to pull the elastic bands from his hair; ears pink from the cold and now hidden from his shaggy hair falling freely down. It’s a move he only does when he wants you to notice him, and with a knowing smile you wrap your arms around his neck and tilt your head to the side. “Oh, what are you thinking?”

Warm hands rub circles on your pelvic bones before dipping down to knead the flesh of your ass. “Just that I know another way to warm you up…”

“Really? What’s gotten you so suddenly in the mood.”

Choso leans down to sucks gentle marks on your neck above where the fabric of your sweatshirt rests; his hands peel back the waistband of your panties before releasing the elastic band to smack against your hips. “Just really like seeing you in that hoodie… s’cute when we match.”

Ever the possessive boyfriend, you giggle at his honesty and drag him backwards until the back of your thighs meet his disheveled bed; he tugs off the matching sweatshirts from both of your bodies. Planting a few more kisses to your neck before pushing you flat against his comforter and tugging the wet gusset of your panties down slightly. Large dark eyes bat innocently at you in a silent request for permission.

As soon as you rest on your elbows and nod, the fabric is tugged down your ankles and thrown with the other pile of clothes that litter his floor. Sinking immediately to lean against the bed, Choso throws a leg over his shoulder and attaches his lips to your cunt like a starved man. He doesn’t stop until your hands are nearly ripping out chunks of his hair and his chin is shiny with your slick painting his flesh.

Choso just likes to make sure you’re comfortable in this cold weather is all! He may be a bit jealous, overprotective, and possessive…but it’s just ‘cause he loves you so much. He just wants you to be warm– so he leaves your pussy dripping out loads of his cum while you all watch a movie. Sitting on the couch in his sweatpants, pussy aching from the abuse and rounds it just took, Choso keeps his hands under the blankets and cupping your cunt, pushing his seed back inside when too much leaks out. 

Geto Suguru -> steamy shower sex!

It’s sooo damn cold in his apartment to the point you’re wondering if you two should call a friend to stay somewhere else. Your flat’s electricity went out in the winter storm and it seems like the heat in Suguru’s building has just cut as well. Your boyfriend sits at his laptop in the kitchen while you shiver at his side, convinced you can see your breath in the room.

Suguru has already recommended you simply head to bed, but the cold sheets without your personal space heater left you wandering back to the kitchen after only 5 minutes. Peering at his laptop screen, you notice the way his work load seems to be more intense than initially anticipated and with a small sigh, you head to take a warm shower.

Steam pouring up from the glass wall of the shower door, you shut your eyes and enjoy the boiling water that provides warmth to your skin. The feeling is so comfortable that you remain in the bathroom for longer than you had anticipated, jumping at the sound of Suguru opening the door.

“Hey, I just gotta brush my tee–” He pauses in front of the half fogged wall and raises an eyebrow while letting out a low whistle. “You’re naked.”

Rolling your eyes, you wipe away the condensation as he wolfishly smiles at you. “Yea, how ELSE do you shower?”

Your boyfriend ignores your tease and steps back to peel off his layers and kick them haphazardly to the floor. Steam escapes when he pulls the shower door back and steps in, crowding you to the cool tiles of the opposite wall. 

“Need some help?”

Giving Suguru a knowing smile that his ‘help’ was more than simply washing your back, he lazily smiles and grabs your hips to press against his own. Nipples hard from the cool temperature of the wall and the arousal of your boyfriend’s touch, you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him into the water. 

It starts off tame, kissing under the water and giggling when you’re both nearly waterboarded from the pressure, until he slicks your soaked hair back and gently guides you to your knees. Dark pubes tickling your nose and his weeping cockhead scraping your throat, Suguru sighs pathetically above you at the pleasure coursing through him. 

Gently face-fucking you under the water, he guides your mouth off him before he can cum embarrassingly early and lifts you to your feet to push you flush against the glass door. It’s the easiest way to warm you up of course– from the inside out.

Tits squished against the glass, Suguru guides your ass back and guides his cock up and down your drenched folds a few times before sinking in. It’s the same delicious stretch your poor cunt can never get used to; the length of his shaft is held in a vice grip as you flutter around him in an attempt to accommodate his size.

It’s the warmth you’ve been needing this cold evening, and Suguru is more than happy to provide it. Skin against skin under the hot stream of water, he’s dead set on making sure you won’t be complaining about the temperature again. And if the generous load of cum he pumps into you happens to drip from your swollen pussy and get washed down the drain…he’ll have to be a good boyfriend and simply fill you up again. 

Gojo Satoru -> fogged up windows, even though the heater isn't on!

You’ve told Satoru a million and one times before to get his car checked out before the winter storm, and every single time he’s waved you off. Insisting that he can only get his car serviced at Mercedes dealership mechanics, he put off getting his air system fixed and now they’re booked for the next two weeks. In the middle of a winter storm. 

The two of you sit in Nanami’s work parking lot, waiting for him to finish so you three can meet Suguru, Shoko, and Haibara for a group dinner. 

“It’s freezing” you complain in the passenger seat, shivering despite your puffer coat and scarf.

Satoru tries to act as nonchalant as possible, as if the cold wasn’t that bad, though the puffs of his breath you can see in the air prove otherwise. Before you can mumble another ‘i told you so’, there’s a ping on your phone from the communal group chat. 

From: Nanamin–

Sorry, it will be another 20 minutes. I’ll try to finish as soon as possible. 

You sigh and Satoru moves to shut the engine to save gas; the two of you sit in a small silence scrolling on your phones until your boyfriend has seemingly had enough and unclicks his seatbelt.

“Are you going in to get Na–”

“Backseat.”

An eyebrow raising at the command, Satoru pleads his eyes into yours while plastering a partial smirk on his lips. “We can warm the car that way. If you want to, princess.”

Biting your lip and thinking about it for a moment, you nod and follow him over the center console and to the back row of his car. It starts with you on his lap, grinding on his lap through the denim on his thighs while he pushes your skirt up to your waist. Sloppy kisses are exchanged as his hands squeeze and grab at the plush flesh on your hips and ass until neither one of you can wait any longer.

Satoru guides you off him for a moment to hastily release the button and fly off his jeans before shoving them and his boxers down to his mid thighs. He grabs you by the hips to reclaim your previous seat before whining at the sudden hindrance of your heat-tech tights blocking him from your pretty pussy.

“Ah, I forgot… it’ll be hard to get them off in here..”

Lips pursed in frustration, you don’t notice when Satoru reaches forward to the console cup holder to grab his car keys; sitting back down, he grabs the fabric around your crotch and tears through it with the metal ignition key.

“H-Hey!”

“I’ll buy you new ones. 10 more. Whatever you want…just–just sit. Please baby.” He begs in a desperate breath; needing to feel your cunt wrapped around him now, as if waiting until after dinner might kill him. 

The way you ride him is enough to cause employees getting off work to raise an eyebrow at the way the white Mercedes seems to rock in the parking lot. Windows fogged up from the body heat, Satoru keeps desperate hands on your hips to rock back and forth while his feet are planted firmly to thrust up into you deeper. 

He’s doing his loving boyfriend duties– ensuring the car will be nice and warm for you ;)

It’s mind numbing, and no coherent thoughts can form on your lips when the pace increases to bully your g-spot over and over again. Hips twitching as you grind further to rub your swollen clit on his pubes, the friction makes you fall forward as your orgasm washes over you. 

Satoru throws his head back; Adam’s apple bobbing sluttily as he groans your name like a mantra as he stuffs your cunt full of hot ropes of cum. Panting to catch your breaths, the ping of the group chat leaves you both scrambling back to the front seats.

Your skirt is barely on by the time Nanami opens the back passenger door and clicks on his seat belt. “Oh, did you get your heating fixed, Satoru?”

Higuruma Hiromi -> offering you his jacket!

It’s hard to hide your shivers as you sit across from your lovely boyfriend at dinner; the front door to the restaurant opens every few minutes as people come in and out and cause gusts of cold wind to fill the air. Hiromi had reserved a table with the best view of the city, and unfortunately that also meant being seated near the exit. 

You wave it off at first, not wanting to spoil the evening and just enjoy the night with your boyfriend who was finally able to get out of work early for once. He frowns at each of your shivers and surveys the restaurant in case any other tables might be open; frowning when he sees the place is totally booked. He had planned for this evening to be perfect– he wanted to show you how much your company means to him and ask if you would like to move in with him.

When the door opens again and lets in another cold breeze from outside, Hiromi swallows hard as your nipples harden through the flimsy fabric of your satin mini dress. How you can call it a dress is beyond him– your tits are basically spilling out of it. 

Coughing slightly, he stands up and shimmies off his suit jacket and drapes it over your shoulders to assist in warming you up. The musky cologne he always wears leaves you sighing into the fabric while Hiromi only realizes how fucked he is…you’re even sexier wearing it. 

Wondering if maybe he should just propose to you instead, he snaps out of his thoughts when your heeled foot grazes his thigh from under the table. Before a word can leave his lips, the tip of your shoe playfully pushes on his erection; a coy smile adoring your lips while blink at him. 

The entire moment is too much for either one of you; the door opening every minute and the both of you dripping in primal desire. Naturally, being the doting and devoted boyfriend he is, Hiromi offers to meet you in the single-room bathroom to ‘warm you up’.

That proposition is how you end up with hands on the marble sink counter top, dress hiked up to your waist, and suit jacket still on as your boyfriend fucks you from behind. The intensity of each thrust leaves your acrylic nails painfully bending at the way your fingers attempt to dig into the marble for support and Hiromi doesn't let up the pace when you whimper in pleasure as his tip bullies against your g-spot.

The hand on your mouth to keep you quiet does little to deafen the way his heavy balls smack into your ass and the squelch of your pussy from your prior orgasm. (Hiromi can’t fuck you without eating your cunt out and grinding his nose against your clit– it would be like eating the main course before the appetizer if he didnt.)

His cock reaches deep in your womb as Hiromi is babbling about a million different thoughts from behind you; drunk on the way your pussy wraps around him so perfectly, like it was made to take him. Stuttering his hips and throwing his head back in desperation, Hiromi thrusts a few more times before hot cum spurts into your pussy– all the while he’s begging you to finally move in with him… that way he can always make you warm and full ;)

Ryomen Sukuna -> sharing the bed in his childhood bedroom!

A favor to Jin to watch over Yuji for the weekend leaves Sukuna in his childhood home as a winter storm roars outside; complaining the entire first day, stating Yuji was old enough to be alone and that Jin was being ‘too soft’ on him. Though when his nephew begs to have his friends stay the night, Sukuna snatches the opportunity.

“You can have your stupid friends over… as long as my girl can come by too.”

Yuji rolls his eyes and makes a disgusted face with his tongue out. “Fine, deal.”

It’s freezing by the time you arrive, several inches of snow piled on the roads, and Sukuna doesn’t hesitate to pull you aside as soon as you enter the home. He had proposed you come over to entertain his nephew and friends with movies and cookies, though you knew it wasn't the real reason he called you over after 8pm.

With Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi asleep on the couch not even halfway through the movie, you and Sukuna sneak upstairs and into his childhood bedroom. Any other time you come to Jin’s house, you would spend time cooing at all the photos and memorabilia from years ago; tonight you’re being guided to the twin bed with impatient fervor.

Lips against his in a desperate manner, Sukuna whispers a few scolds when you moan just a little too loud when his mouth sucks fat hickies into the delicate flesh of your neck. Clothing peeling off to take advantage of the opportunity that the group downstairs was asleep, Sukuna pushes you flat onto his colorful childhood comforter. He places kisses down your navel and drags down your jeans and panties in one tug before settling comfortably between your thighs.

“Promise to take extra care of you later– just gotta be quick this one time, ok?”

Drunk in lust, you aren’t really sure if the man between your legs is speaking to you or your pussy, but you don’t care regardless. Sukuna sits forward to plant a few kisses to your puffy clit before rocking back onto his ankles and guiding his cockhead up and down your folds.

A knowing smirk on his face, he sinks in each of his nine inches inside, cursing with furrowed eyebrows at the immediate pleasure coursing through his veins. It’s a familiar stretch your poor pussy can never get used to, though he gives you a few moments to accommodate his splitting size before rocking in and out. 

The small twin bed frame rocks into the wall with each thrust and Sukuna gives up on trying to keep it quiet– too focused on reaching both your highs than what his stupid nephew might think downstairs. It’s a disgusting thought that passes through his head really; fucking his cock deep in your pussy while your slick pastes his pubes to his pelvis, that in his childhood bedroom, the two of you could make a child. 

That would warm you up right? All the times he can’t be there to keep you company while he’s at work– his kid in your stomach could. 

Moans escape your pretty lips while Sukuna places his hands under your plush thighs and pushes them to fold into your chest; tits squishing from the pressure of your knees against them. It’s a mean mating press, and the image of you plump and swollen with his kid unleashes a fetish Sukuna didn’t think he had.

Thrusts sputtering at the image, Sukuna exhales pathetically and rocks his hips into yours a few more times before cumming embarrassingly early. Cum pouring from his weeping cock as he pumps his seed deeper and deeper, you wearily look up at him in shock and longing for your own release.

Sukuna’s a caring boyfriend who makes good on his promises though, and he pulls out before shimmying back down between your thighs. His erection is slowly softening despite his mind not any clearer post-nut; the sight of his cum dripping from your cunt has him reaching forward to push it back in with long fingers.

He mutters about cumming prematurely since you both hadn’t seen each other in a few days, but the way he eyes the photos of Jin and baby Yuji in the hallway later make you question his real motives. 

Shoko Ieiri -> why is the doctor's office always so cold??

Why all medical buildings are freezing cold is beyond you– and your girlfriend’s office is no exception. Sitting in a swivel chair next to her as she fills out mountains of paperwork, you hug your arms into yourself at the frigid temperature. Maybe it’s your fault the cropped and tight baby tee you’re wearing isn’t the most appropriate given the weather, but it’s too cute not to wear. Besides, as much as Ieiri chides you for complaining, you can tell the way her eyes linger on your perky nipples through the fabric that she’s secretly enjoying the show. 

“Ieiriiii”

“Hm?” She hums, not looking up from her patient’s file.

“Are you almost done? I’m freezing and hungry.”

She notes down a few symptoms of her current patient and types a few memos into her desktop computer; a coy eye lingers on your chest once again. “Yes I am. And don’t worry– I’m hungry too.”

Before you can pull up your phone for nearby restaurants, Ieiri is pushing back from her desk and sliding her chair away from both of you. Dropping to her knees, she grabs the bones of your knees and spins you to face her crouched body.

“Ieiri?”

“Mmmm– said I was hungry, didn’t I?”

In a simple motion, she splays your legs apart and peers up your skirt to admire the small arousal stain forming on your cute pink panties she had bought you last Valentine’s Day. You can’t even shut your legs in embarrassment, her strength keeping them open, and her hot breath fanning the flesh on your thighs. 

Ieiri only looks up once with pupils blown wide before she pushes up the fabric of your skirt and happily inserts herself right in front of your cunt. The tip of her nose grinds against your clit through your panties while she licks hot stripes up and down the gusset to taste the slick that’s already been soaked through.

Hands in her hair and hot pants leaving your lips, you arch your back into the seat and shiver from the sensation and cool air of the office. Tugging your panties to the side, she repositions herself to allow her tongue to thrust in and out of your tight hole while an index finger rubs circles on your clit just the way you like. 

It’s a disgusting french kiss she’s giving your cunt; occasionally spitting onto your pussy and using the mixture of saliva and arousal to insert her index and middle finger to replace her tongue. Her name leaves your lips in a desperate mantra as deft surgeon hands massage the rough spot in your cunt that leaves you twitching your hips into her mouth. 

Ieiri peels back to watch your face as you come undone, loving the way that only she is the one making you feel so good; your hands are tugging at the hair on her scalp in a not-so-subtle way of letting her know of your impending orgasm. With a few more grinds of her fingers on your g-spot, you’re cumming hard onto her hands.

She doesn’t stop when you whimper in overstimulation, her lips attaching to your cunt again to lap up all the cum, until you tug her back wearily. Pussy drunk eyes gaze lazily at you through hooded lids as she rests her head onto your thigh; a smirk on her lips and cum coating her chin.

Ieiri is just being the good girlfriend she always wants to be for you. Eating you out in her office to keep you warm is just another task she’s happy to fulfill. ;)

i have no excuse for this fr...

a/n: am i behind on posting? yes. am i too busy watching got7 promotions for their new comeback? yes.

i really do mean to stay focused but it's hard when you're ovulating these fine ass men are posting for their new comback ok?

anyway~ sorry for the pure filth, I promise im working on finishing holiday hoes and the next chapters for da usual series

also: i need to reply to all the nice comments you all leave on here! i promise i see them and want to respond to each one bc YOU ARE ALL SO SWEET IT HURTS <333

comments/likes/reblogs all appreciated

i luv u sluts -oatmeal

[callsign-bobsgirl]

Baby On Board

Pairing: Bob Floyd x f!Reader Summary: There seems to be a misunderstanding between you and the Dagger Squad about your husband's callsign. Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: Unbeta-ed, rusty writing and one clumsy allusion to smut. Otherwise none.

When the gang found out that Bob could actually talk to women, they were shocked.

When the gang found out that Bob had been talking to, coming home to, and loving on the same woman for the past ten years, they were somehow less shocked.

What shocked Bob — although in retrospect it probably shouldn’t have — is just how adamantly everyone insisted on getting to meet the Mrs. Bob Floyd. The mystery that the quiet WSO kept under wraps. This Friday at the Hard Deck, seven o’clock.

Which is what he groaned into your neck early that afternoon after Mav had sent everyone home early as a reward. The two of you lazed about on top of the covers, the box of clothes half unpacked and forgotten at the foot of the bed the minute Bob walked through the bedroom door.

“I was hoping to keep you to myself for just a little longer,” your husband whined; turned humming as you ran your hand through his hair.

“I’m more hurt you didn’t immediately tell them about your hot wife in Lemoore,” you muse, “I mean what if I came down to surprise you, hmm? What if I popped down to the Top Deck before we permanently moved down huh? And that … Flameman or whatever tried to hit on me because he didn’t have it burned into his skull that I’m the lovely Mrs. Floyd hmm? What then?”

Groaning, Bob lifted himself to his elbows, pressing kisses to your jaw, “When we meet Hangman at the Hard Deck, he’s probably gonna hit on you anyways, if nothing else than to try and get a rise out of me.”

“Ah yes, you and your famous impulsive temper,” you tease.

Sliding a hand from Bob’s torso up to his shoulder, you quickly flip him over so you’re on top. Grinning cheekily you lean back on your haunches, getting to work on Bob’s belt while he fiddles with the hem of your t-shirt, waiting for his turn to strip you of the offending cloth.

“I’ll talk to my sister, see if she can’t reschedule some stuff for Friday,” you say, reaching your hand down your husband's briefs and getting a pleased hum in response.

—

When the two of you walked into the Hard Deck, you for the first time, you let Bob lead you through the crowds of people and he pointed out the different ranks of aviators, the obvious gaggles of tag chasers, and the old-timers who were loyal to the bar. You did your best to listen but you were busy smoothing down the sundress Bob loved so much and it was really loud in here.

“Stop worrying,” Bob leaned down to say in your ear, “You can run miles around these guys.” The WSO paused for a second, “Maybe not … physically, but in every other way.”

You laugh as you slap the back of your hand against his chest, “will Phoenix be here at least?”

“You see the guy in the Hawaii print?”

“Uh-huh”

“See the woman who just jabbed him with the pool stick?”

“Yeah?”

“Phoenix.”

The two of you approach the pool table everyone is crowded around but before you can announce yourself, a boyish-looking man with amber skin whistles and waves across the pool table, bringing everyone’s attention with him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bob!”

Everyone clamoured to meet the new arrivals, but you didn’t miss how one of them — a blond, cocky-looking son of a bitch with a toothpick dangling from his lip — held back, only to eventually push his way past an ‘LT. Fitch’. 

“Well Darlin’, it sure is nice to finally meet you,” his grin sure does take over his face, huh, “callsign Hangman, but you can call me Jake,” he says with a wink.

You share a look with Bob — who had just returned from the bar with your cocktail and his peanuts — and yeah, Hangman was exactly as you imagined him.

Saying a quick thanks to your husband and making sure to drag your fingers across Bob’s as you take the glass from him, you turn back to the other blond who won’t stop with the cocksure smirk. If Bob hadn’t warned you that Jake, for all that he was like … well this, was harmless and wouldn’t actually try anything; you’d be throwing the drink in his face.

But you also figured the alcohol would do better in you than on him.

Later in the evening, after everyone had had a few drinks and you’d loosened up, Topman sauntered back over to your stool where you were admiring your husband bent over the pool table.

“I gotta admit, I am mystified at how our Baby on Board managed to snag you,” the pilot kept going, finally getting a chuckle out of you.

‘Cause yeah, ‘Baby On Board’, that was funny you’d give Bagman that one. You didn’t get why it made the rest of the squadron look at you weird though.

“What?” you ask. 

You also couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling when Rooster swatted the back of Hangman’s head, but Phoenix is the one who elbows herself up to Hangman, going between glaring at him and raising her eyebrow at you.

“You … you do get what Bagman’s saying about Bob here, right?”

You nod, still not getting where the miscommunication lies.

“That Bob is … you know, a baby?” she explains.

Right as you emphatically exclaim, “fucks!”

And boy if that didn’t get the guys hooting and hollering, as your husband’s face turns bright pink.

Did these guys not get it? There’s a reason your Robby was one of the only two squadron members who’d even made it down the aisle. The way his hair was never out of place in uniform, how it bounced when he was out of it, and how soft it felt between your fingers. Those blue eyes that demanded your attention and turned you into a puddle when they darkened. Did his squad think you could let him do more than an hour of yard work in the summer, chest all sweaty and glistening before you beckoned him back into the privacy of the house? Or even worse, when he danced from the kitchen to the living room, carrying mugs of hot chocolate, on Christmas in those ‘family matching’ pyjamas.

‘Bob is a baby’ for the best of the best in the navy, these people were fools.

“I don’t get what the big fuss is,” you tell the aviators, “honestly, with every year that passes I half expect a kid to reach out from wherever he’s been deployed over the years.” Which gets another round of laughter out of your husband’s colleagues.

Robby knew you knew how insanely in love with him you were and how much you trusted him, and you knew how deep his devotion to you was — which is why instead of defending himself he just hid his red face in your hair. Already hearing the jokes he’ll face on base next month. You bringing a hand up to clumsily yet comfortingly cup his jaw helped though.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Payback says sincerely, “it's just that the Bob we know, the Bob we work with … it's kinda hard to see the Bob you know in him.”

And that’s when you realize. If Robby hadn’t told his squadron anything about you, then he definitely hasn’t said anything about …

“No I get it, my Robby can be on the quieter side, and probably downplays his moves at work” You hear Robby groan in your ear, knowing exactly what you’re about to reveal; and you gear yourself to revel in the shock you’re about to create. 

“But he did get three kids out of me.”  

The yelps of surprise and demands of proof had everyone in the bar glancing over at the pool table, but you and Bob just laughed at them as he handed over his wallet: showing off the five of you in the small ID window.

_____________________________________________

A/N: this is 100% from my own misunderstanding of Hangman's joke the first few times I watched the TGM, I truly thought he was implying Bob must always have a baby on the way because look at him??? Anyways, first time posting in the fandom. Come on over and say hi! And ... idk, live laugh love long and prosper.

also s/o to @sailor-aviator for helping my brain when it wasn't braining ♡

[tsukimefuku]

3rd of july ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.˚ nanami kento

piece written in collaboration with my beloved friend and one of my favorite people, @rahuratna, for nanami's (a.k.a. internet's collective husbando) birthday. 💜🧡 content warning: fluff/comedy/sugestiveness word count: 1k

Nanami wasn't one to make big celebrations on his birthday. Up until he met you, he'd usually go about his work day quietly, saving up a few extra hours to simply go bowling or visit his favorite restaurants for dinner.

After you both started dating, not much had changed. You'd simply tag along for whatever he had planned, and would usually surprise him with something by the time you both got home - a box of dark chocolate, a new set of lingerie, a nice warm scented bath, a new CD album he had been looking for.

This time, however, you decided to push your luck on teasing the poor man.

On his birthday, of all days.

"Kento, how do you feel about surprise parties?" you ask, hiding the smile pulled on your cheeks behind your tea cup.

On the couch by your side, you could feel Nanami holding the urge to flinch the moment you were finished speaking.

"They are not my favorite," he answers in earnest.

"Seriously?" you inquire with a faux disheartened look.

"Yes," Nanami replies, with a tinge of concern to his voice.

"That is... unfortunate, then," you ensue, putting your tea on the coffee table and pulling your robe tighter around your body.

His Adam's apple bobs as he silently gulps.

"Why?"

"Well, my plan was to surprise you when you got home, but I figured you wouldn't want to get instantly jumped. So I told them to wait in the room," you finally say, with a grave finality, pointing to the closed bedroom door.

Truth is, he has no clue what you are really up to.

"Darling…" Nanami sighs, ever so patiently, "I thought it would just be the both of us unwinding, like the past years."

"I… I'm sorry, I really wanted to surprise you with something different this time."

You do sound regretful, and he plants a soft kiss on your cheek in response. Even now, he doesn't quite find it in himself to be annoyed at you, even if the prospect of Gojo lurking around his bedroom is enough to send disgusted shivers down his spine.

"It's… fine. Let's get this over with at once, and then have the house to ourselves."

"Are you sure? I could always go in there and tell them to-"

"No," he counters firmly. "You've arranged something a little different this year, and I'm going to appreciate it."

"Come on, then."

As perceptive as he is, Nanami doesn't notice the mischievous smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. Naturally, since you have successfully planted a seed in his mind, a terrifying image of his pristine suits being tried on by students and his custom made bowling ball being transformed into a disco light by the white-haired menace he calls a colleague.

When you reach the door and step aside for him, he visibly braces himself, fingers almost straightening a phantom tie at his throat.

"Sweetheart, I need to go and fetch a scarf. It's a little chilly in here."

Bless his heart. He's actually playing along.

You raise your voice.

"Oh, I left the blue one on the top shelf. Your closet."

"Right."

Nanami heads in with the air of a man charging from the trenches to face a volley of cannon fire. He stops dead in his tracks, eyes taking in the room.

It is empty of people, for starters.

The comforter on the bed has been pulled back, the white sheets scattered with rose petals. Candles have been placed strategically on the bedside table and vanity, emitting the subtle scent of the ocean. On a corner of the bed, a few ribbon-wrapped gifts await; a small stack of books and a box of his favourite dark chocolate with orange.

You saunter in behind him and he turns to you with a look that is both a solemn reprimand and a loving promise of a punishment you may appreciate later.

"Hmm. It's awfully crowded in here, my dear."

"Well, the rose petals were quite chatty, Kento. They've taken up all the space on our bed."

"They have indeed, you little-"

You laugh as you slip out of his reach, standing coyly in the doorway.

"Have a look at your gifts first."

He narrows his eyes, but approaches the bed, fingers unraveling the ribbon that holds the books together.

"What do we have here? 'The Master and Margarita.' Ah, wonderful. 'Bowling your way home: A salaryman's escape from bondage.'"

He pauses and raises an eyebrow and you gesture airily for him to keep going.

"Fine. What's this one? The-"

His voice cuts off abruptly.

"Kento? Are you all right?"

Very slowly, he turns to you.

"You got me the Kama Sutra?"

"I figured it would make a nice addition to your collection. I may even borrow it, from time to time."

You approach him now, casually opening the book to where you've placed a strategic leather marker within the section on sex positions.

"Since it's your birthday, maybe you'd like to start with the Virsha here?"

He considers the page seriously, before taking the book from you and flipping through it.

"I'm not sure, darling. You've put in enough effort setting all of this up."

Handing it back to you, he watches the flush that spreads upwards, across your neck as you are presented with the Indrani pose he has chosen instead.

"How about you let me do the work from here on out?"

"Well... "

"No, I insist."

His voice has that special intonation now, the husky rumble of desire, the inflection of hushed intimacy, the promise of that playful nature that only reveals itself when you're entangled in the sheets together.

You lay the book down, open to the very instructive illustration.

"In that case, let me present you with my last gift."

"There's another?"

Wordlessly, the robe you've been so studiously arranging around yourself slides to the floor. His kindling gaze takes in the sheer, violet lace, the tiny flowers embroidered strategically over the parts of you that he will discover at leisure.

***

Later, when the gossamer material lies discarded on the floor, when his exhausted limbs entwine with your own, when his golden hair runs like silk between your fingers, you speak into the hush of the bedroom.

"Happy birthday, my love."

His voice is muffled from where his face is pressed against your stomach.

"That was quite the surprise party."

"Maybe we should have one every year."

He snorts indignantly, but his lips curve in a smile against your skin all the same.

[hees-mine]

More Loser virgin heeseung thoughts

NSFW MDNI hard thought/Drabble

Loser virgin hee: who nearly loses his fucking mind cause he must be dreaming someone must be playing tricks on him. There’s no way that you’re actually taking video requests from your viewers, but no matter how many times he refreshes your page, the options still lingers, a blue button waiting to be clicked on with the price tag reading an amount he doesn’t even pay attention to before he clicks pay.

Loser virgin hee: who sends back to back requests for you to do a blowjob pov, and missionary pov with a bigger dildo so he can really get immersed and imagine it’s him and of course, a doggystyle pov. He loves seeing your pretty little hole getting stuffed from behind.

Loser virgin hee: who, when he receives said requested content, will thank you over and over again even though he knows you’ll never see it, but still he’s grateful for these works of art, a perfect canvas for him to paint in his pearly white.

Loser virgin hee: will cherish the fuck out of those videos, religiously busting a nut to each one every single day. He thinks the amount he’s cum in the last week is probably not healthy, but he can’t stop as he watches you fuck yourself with a new dildo, one much closer to his size.

Loser virgin hee: who can’t stop requesting videos of you, and he doesn’t know what’s dryer, his balls, or his bank account, but that doesn’t matter when he gets a notification that you’re live. He tuned in immediately, ready for a night of endless pleasure. He’s cum so many times in just a few minutes that the overstimulation makes him feel like crying, but he just can’t stop himself when it comes to you.

Loser virgin hee: who at three am is so sleepy but so horny that he pulls back his blankets and his sweats along with boxers to snap a dick pick and send it to you with the caption. “I’m so hard for you, wish I could feel your sweet wet pussy gushing and squeezing around my thick cock, bet it’d feel so much better than that stupid dildo” In his tired brain, he hits the send button, not thinking much of it until he sees a response like a real response, not the automated ones he’s used to. “Hmm, I bet it would 👅💦”

Loser virgin hee: who shoots up from his laying position. Suddenly, he’s not tired anymore, and his shaky hands send a text back. “I’d do you so good, beautiful. You’re so perfect. You deserve everything.” he feels his heart race, waiting for your response. He’s ridiculously nervous yet horny at the same time, which is a first for him, and he slowly tugs on his thick length till it’s fully erected, a bead of precum decorating his tip.

Loser virgin hee: that almost busts his load just from seeing your three dots typing. Your response makes his eyes roll in his head at just the thought. “What would you do to me?” “Take my time with you. Kiss every inch of your perfect body, prep your sweet little hole with my fingers make you cum on my face and my tongue before giving you my cock. I’d feed it in real slowly just to watch your pretty face while my thick cock fills you up, stroke every inch of your walls so deep till your begging for more, till you clamp and squeeze around me till you cum from how good I fuck you.”

Loser virgin hee: who would probably lose it if he knew you were rubbing your thighs together as you read his text. You didn’t usually text with your clients, but since he was your highest paying one, you made an exception. You’re not disappointed, especially when he sends you a video moaning your name as he strokes his cock. It’s thick, long, and veiny, and the drop of precum he spreads on his shaft makes your mouth water. When he cums, shaking while whimpering your name, you feel like you should be the one paying for personal videos of him cause seeing his cum dripping down his throbbing shaft was definitely a sight to see.

Loser virgin hee: who feels as if time has stopped when you tell him. “That was so hot you deserve a reward. How about we video call?” The speed to which he replies is lightning fast, and the next thing you know, he’s setting up a time to call you. This is by far the best night of his life, and he sleeps soundly, but this time, it’s not from the back-to-back orgasms.

Link to Patreon!

[rosyblooom]

not so perfect strangers | ln4 smau

PAIRING: lando norris x private fem!reader SUMMARY: after getting completely splashed by a passing car, y/n throws all 'stranger danger' warnings out the window and hitches a ride home.

Instagram

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: OMFG THIS CAR JUST SPLASHED ME NOW I'M SOAKED😭😭😭 couldn't even see the driver ughh ]

[ caption: it's been almost 1 hr and i still look like a wet rat🙃 soo guess who's hitching a ride? (if i don't update within 2 hrs CALL THE POLICE PLS) ]

[ tagged: yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]

Instagram

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: no need to worry anymore, your girl made it back home🙂‍↕️ ]

[ tagged: yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]

Instagram

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, yourfriend and 68 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername "stranger danger" but not this one !! 🙂‍↕️

view all 22 comments

yourfriend girl what- is this who I think it is???

yourusername 🤭🤭

yourbestfriend UHM DINNER TOOO????

yourusername messaging u rn girly🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

landonorris Again soon?👀

yourusername again tmrw? landonorris Again tomorrow. yourbestfriend what. the. fuck.

yourfriend pretty girl <33

(liked by author)

landonorris posted to his story!

[ caption: Day 2 ]

[ tagged: yourusername ]

Twitter

Instagram

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: mixing friend groups >>> ] [ caption 2: another day, another slay 🙂‍↕️ ]

[ tagged: landonorris, yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]

Tiktok

A couple days later...

yourusername posted to her close friends!

[ caption 1: lol ] [ caption 2: bye ]

Instagram

yourusername posted to her close friends!

[ caption 1: this is awkward ahaha... how about we all just forget about my silly goofy little story FOREVER AGO pretty please😁 ]

[ tagged: landonorris ]

story replies:

yourbestfriend "he's dead to me"🤡🤡

yourusername pfft tomato tomato right ahaha 😁

yourfriend folding after only 5 days is clown shit lmfao

yourfriend LMAOOO where did all that energy go??

yourusername new phone who dis😀

yourfriend Y/N STAND TF UP OMFG???

yourusername b-but pretty flowers🥺 yourfriend a lost cause I see...

yourfriend I spy with my little eye a whole damn circus!

yourfriend so real tbh

yourusername i knew you'd get me babe 🙂‍↕️

[ ... ]

yourusername posted to her close friends!

[ caption: STOP EATING ME UP IN THE REPLIES OMFG?? PLS FRIENDS I'M JUST A GIRLLL ]

A few months later...

Instagram

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username, and 13,007 others

f1gossipofficial According to this picture sent to us by a fan in China, it seems Lando Norris has brought Y/N along with him for the upcoming Grand Prix.

The duo has been the subject of rumours and sightings together for a while now. Could this weekend finally mark the debut of a new wag?

They certainly appear close in the photo! 👀

view all 845 comments

username just fell to my knees in walmart🧎‍♂️

username aw that picture is so cuteee i already love them together <33

username i feel like she's stuck up tbh cause i've been requesting to follow her for almost a month now and nothing. like girl you're not that important please😒

username uhmm...you're a weirdo username lmaooo how about you go live your life then if she isn't that important what💀

username I saw them too!! I asked for a pic with lando and she was super sweet and took it for us :)

username aw that makes me happy to hear username she did the same for me in monaco 🫶

username she gives bad vibes...

username y'all say that about everyone omg stfu

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: entering my lucky charm era hmm?👀 ] [ caption 2: AHHH P2 OMFG!!!! SO PROUD OF U LAN ❤️ ❤️ (you're welcome also 😌) ]

[ tagged: landonorris ]

lando.jpg

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, martingarrix, and 501,883 others

lando.jpg 🇨🇳

view all 3,097 comments

username rip lando's single era 😞💔

username crying and throwing up fr

yourusername ❤️

(liked by author)

username day 593 of begging you to make your insta public🥹 username with the way y'all treated Luisa I doubt that will happen username who tf is y'all?🤨

username P2 LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO

username ik everyone's been hating but I actually like that y/n's super private bc it shows she's with him for the right reasons :)

username right she seems genuine 🫶

username so proud of you lando 🧡🧡

username LAST PIC SHOULD BE MEEE

1:22 ───────ㅇ───── 2:22

[baepsays]

I'D GIVE YOU EVERYTHING (I JUST WANT TO SEE YOU WIN)⸻ preview

pairing⋙ post Shinjuku clan leader Gojo x non-sorcerer reader

cw⋙ canon divergence, nsfw, clan and jujutsu world politics, Gojo with scars, arranged marriage, one sided conflict, one sided pining, eventual both sided pining, they are both a little stupid about e/o (more to be added in the eventual release)

a/n: this is only a preview, if you would liked to be added to the tag list please leave a comment ^^

On rare, yet day by day more frequent occasions, like today, you would be sitting opposite your husband over lunch.

It was not often you sat down in a room with Satoru without any reason, in fact you can count on one hand how many times you have done that. So waiting for lunch to be served on a comically large dining table, sitting on the very opposite end from him, was new. It was awkward enough to share any meal other than the scheduled dinner with him, that too he always left much earlier than you, thankfully. 

Who knows what it was? Was it his engulfing cologne clogging your nose, disabling you from smelling the food served in front of you. Or simply the annoyingly perfect sight of him, so casually eating like it was the most natural thing to do—while you sat there, a nervous wreck. But regardless, you did not seem to have any appetite. Which was apparent enough for even Satoru to notice that across from the table.

“Is there anything on your plate that you don’t like? I can ask the chef to make you something else?” there was, as if, a genuine concern in his voice. For you, that was simply weird.

“Oh. No, I am fine. I just had a snack earlier.” The poorly told lie was not one to pass Gojo Satoru or his six eyes. But for you he was willing to make an excuse. 

“Is that so? I think I am done as well.” It was a risky tactic he was employing, trying to bait you with guilt was low even for him. 

“But you’ve barely started!?” “And you barely had any breakfast. I am more than sure if I asked anyone here what fulfilling snack you had, the answer would be underwhelming.”

For a few seconds he sat there assessing if he had pissed you off again. As invigorating as it is to mildly anger you, he would not have that at the cost of your meal. To his relief without any more protest you went back to your plate to take a proper mouthful bite.

If anyone tested Satoru’s patience as you did, as well as avoided him as skillfully as you have; it would have ended up not as kindly as it has been with you. He has been trying to give you space, to let you breathe, and foster a home for yourself, in his house.

But in the last month, he has found himself to enjoy invading your space rather more. It made him ecstatic to hear your voice panic a little when he would pick up your routinely strategic calls instead of missing them. He does think even you have to admit two and a half rings are far too less before hanging up on someone, also he did not appreciate Ichiji asking him what he would like for dinner instead of you. You made this new habit, you must be the one to ask as well. 

“What would you like for the chef to prepare tonight?” 

“Hmm?” he looked a little dumbfounded at your sudden question, was it not enough you were infiltrating his mind and now you are reading his thoughts as well? Upon acclimating with the situation, he sees his own and your empty plates. I supposed he finished his meal while he was too busy thinking of, well, about you. 

“I mean, what do you want for dinner?” you ask once again, in hopes of a more clear answer. But god forbid your husband ever gave you a desirable answer to your questions.

“You.”

TO FIND MORE OF MY WORKS CLICK HERE.

tag list: @cheralith @slayzzz @madamechrissy @gojosperms @naomigojo @cuntphoric @cuntyji @cuntphoric @aishi-toru @fushitoru @rriwyu @arcanarix @fuwagojo @lover-lyn @buckysm @wwwritererm @indiewritesxoxo @moonchhu @shouiow @user25384959574 @dxmnsaera @emyyy007 @ineedbetterhobbies0809 @littlemisswitch67 @dxmnsaera @kazupop @tabalugax @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @thetiredcollegestudent @tokyolhtl @emochosoluvr @moncher-ire @hyunjinspdf @younjunie @howmanytimesamigoingtotrythis @em0cleo @novaisbebita @hisarmsaremycocoon @wise-fangirl @sheep-infog @arrozyfrijoles23 @ppejmurde @miizuzu

honestly only doing a preview because i want to release this before the end of this month (does not seem possible anytime soon lol this will be a long one) )and i have been in a very foul mood since Friday and classes start soon so maybe this little preview and some pressure will make me write the actual thing much faster. hope you guys enjoyed it. this is another self indulgent piece i just do not see people making a satisfactory (imo, to my taste, there is not a lot of clanleader depiction of Gojo to begin with) clan head Gojo so i am personalizing him to my taste. because he gives me brainrot.

a/n: divider by @/saradika-graphics.

[peachsayshi]

₊ ⊹ . ݁ MILLION DOLLAR BABY  ₊ ⊹ .

(sex worker!suguru geto x rich girl!reader)

⊹ tags: suguru geto x female reader; nanami kento x satoru; sukuna is reader's ex; character mentions: yuki, mei mei, shoko, toji; alludes to dd/lg relationship (very very mildly) with sukuna; a mix of angst/smut/fluff; domestic; non curse au; reader was in a toxic relationship; reader has daddy issues a bit lol; mentions of troubled past; mentions of death (parental)

:about: you grew up in a supremely wealthy household, but that came with a price. you’ve never had control over your own life, and now your father is set to marry you off. luckily, there's someone else who captures your heart. what does it matter that you pay him for his company?

:note: hi, everyone! this story is finally here, and it's one that's taken me forever to work but I actually loved this piece. I haven't been excited about something I've written in a while. I hope it lives up to all your expectations. comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3 - this fic is one shot, and I am willing to explore stories with the side characters. I'll happily answer any lore questions regarding sex worker geto x rich girl reader, but there will not be a part two or more parts of their story. It is a standalone.

wc: 14K+

The ceiling is covered with hanging irises, each one carefully handcrafted in paper. Edison bulbs dip down from between in staggering heights, illuminating the bar around you in warm light. It’s crowded tonight, clinking glasses and roaring laugher bouncing off the walls and clashing against the bass coming through the speakers. You scan the crowd, anticipation making your stomach flutter, but it quickly eases when you spot a head of golden hair among the audience. 

Nanami is at the bar, looking dapper as usual in a chocolate brown suit offset by a cream colored shirt. He’s drinking a whiskey when you approach him, the amber liquid mirroring the touch of bronze on his cheekbones. You sling your designer purse off your shoulder (the latest splurge of the week) and slide into the seat right next to him. 

“And how was your vacation?” you ask, greeting him with a question and noticing his mouth draw into a firm line. 

“Let’s not talk about it,” he insists, his eyes a little sad which only makes your stomach ache at the sight. 

He’s your closest friend - the only real friend you have. Kento Nanami doesn’t carry two faces. He sticks to the one that he has.  As one of the top investors in the country, he made a name by keeping the rich wealthy. He loathes his job and the pressures surrounding it - a walking hypocrite for despising the life that lines his pockets. 

He can’t find an escape no matter how hard he tries. 

And that's why you’re both two peas in a pod. 

He does, however, like you - not because of your background, but because you don’t try to be something that you are not as well. In a world where you are surrounded by parasites, Kento proved to be a nearly extinct butterfly, quietly fluttering by your side as you both drift across the harsh jungle around you. 

You concede, knowing better than to push his buttons. “Okay, I guess we aren’t talking about it…” 

“Tell me something else. Do you ever know how to walk into the room and not be the center of attention?” 

You smirk as he calls the waiter over.  Your presence easing the twinge of disdain on his face.

“What are you trying to say, hmm?” 

“You look nice tonight. New dress?” 

“New dress, new bag, new nails...” you list off, showing off each expensive purchase as you check them off your list. 

Nanami shakes his head playfully before ordering your usual once the bartender approaches. He angles his body towards you and breathes out a heavy sigh. 

“How are you?” He asks, genuine concern masking his face. 

Your shoulders drop. “I don’t want to talk about it…” 

His expression softens, one hand moving to touch your thigh exposed by the slit of your dress. 

“When do you meet Naoya?” 

He’s the only other person who knows about the pending engagement. The only person who offered you a way out by proposing instead. Despite his stance within the social community, you know that it’s not an offer that you can easily accept. 

Kento wasn’t bred into this world, and that makes all the difference. 

Your father would never accept a man from such a humble background. Especially not one whose offer wouldn't benefit him by any means.

“A few weeks from now,” you reply, eyes shifting to the bartender who passes your drink towards you. “He’s given my father specifications on how I should be presented…” 

Your friend scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Pardon my vulgarity but he just sounds like the kind of guy who wants to swing his dick around. I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up tonight…” 

The opening of the Ayame Lounge & Bar was invite only, exclusive to socialites and the elite. You know that Naoya must have received an invitation, everyone from the Zen’in family was here in attendance including the infamous outcast Toji. 

“He wouldn’t be caught dead here,” you inform, picking up your beverage and taking a small sip. “Naoya likes to uphold “tradition” but we all know it’s just a facade.” 

Kento’s thumb strokes your skin tenderly, worry ingrained in his gentle eyes. 

The two of you spend the night talking, catching up on the little things since his return from a two week vacation in Malaysia. He keeps the conversation light, telling you about his fantastic accommodation and all the food that he ate while he was away. In between you find yourself glancing over his shoulder, your eye on the crowd taking in the people around you. 

That’s when you spot him, standing just a few feet away, looking like a demigod among mere aristocrats. His hair is pulled back into a neat bun, a layer of his bangs kissing his forehead. His face is serious, jaw tight and eyes sharp as he focuses on his white haired counterpart. The black tee hugs his torso, his neat slacks cinched by the waist with a leather belt. You can’t help but bite your bottom lip, your mind drifting away from the conversation at hand. 

Your friend notices, of course. Kento is so tuned in to everything around him that he almost can’t help himself. He glances over his shoulder to see what caught your attention, only to instantly turn back around and stare at the whiskey glass on the table. 

The tips of his ears burn red. 

You register the response, knowing exactly what struck him to react in that way. 

Satoru Gojo -  former porn star, turned model, turned mega influencer. With a follower count in the hundreds of millions, he is the world’s hottest it boy. Nobody can deny his sheer beauty - whenever he walks into a room, he manages to steal a glance from every single person within his vicinity. Due to a rare genetic condition, his sapphire blue eyes and frosty white hair earned him the title of “The Prince”, and the people were desperate to share a place by his side. 

Suguru and Satoru were also the best of friends, a fact that Suguru revealed to you one night in bed. The two of them met on set, back when Satoru was still doing adult films. At the time, Suguru was just a camera man and it was Satoru who told him he could increase his earnings if he just performed instead. 

You remember telling Suguru: “it’s crazy how quickly his life changed”

“Some people are just lucky,” he responded, though you easily picked up the bitterness laced in his words. 

What most people don’t know is that Satoru Gojo is also involved with the man seated right next to you. You stumbled upon Nanami’s secret affair by accident when the two of you attended a resort opening by hotel heiress, Yuki Tsukumo. Everyone was invited to stay overnight for the weekend, and the morning after your first night there, you walked over towards Nanami’s room to grab some breakfast. He greeted you in a grey robe with his hair tousled, with hickeys trailing the side of his neck. You quirked a brow in his direction, your mouth forming into a blatant circle when you found Satoru Gojo fast asleep on his bed right behind him. 

The man in question looks away from Suguru towards you and Kento. His brows lifting in surprise when he spots your golden haired friend, but your eyes rest on Suguru who gestures that he will catch Satoru around. 

They both walk in opposite directions. 

You take a sip of your drink, your eyes shifting to Nanami. 

“You’ve got about five seconds to figure out what you want to say because Satoru is walking over here as we speak,” you inform. 

He exhales and straightens his back, his guard entirely up. 

You smile at Satoru when he approaches you, his pearly whites radiant as always. 

“Hi!” He says casually, though you can hear a touch of apprehension in his voice. “Mind if I cut in?” 

“Not at all!” you respond, “Can I get you a refill?” 

His cheeks blush a subtle shade of pink, the tiny gesture making you understand how easily it is to fawn over such a beautiful face. “It’s just soda, but sure” 

“Not drinking tonight?” You continue, glancing between him and Nanami as you wait for your friend to interject. 

“Actually, I’m three years sober,” he explains. 

“Good for you!” You cheer honestly, before turning to the bartender and ordering him another soda. 

From your peripheral vision you see him inch closer towards your friend. 

“I haven’t heard from you in a while,” he states, though his voice comes across as a little small. 

“I’ve been busy,” Nanami curtly replies, and your brows furrow at his unusual tone. 

“Too busy to even say hi?” Satoru continues, his voice low enough that only the three of you can hear each other. 

“Aren’t you here with a date?” Nanami chides, glancing up at him with a mocking eye. 

“Utahime isn’t my date, we both got invited together by our agency…” Satoru answers through gritted teeth. “Besides, I was hoping to spend time with you. I haven’t heard from you since Kuantan…” 

Nanami’s face burns an even brighter shade of crimson, the intimacy of Satoru’s comment flaring his humiliation. 

“Come on,” the white haired prince teases, attempting to ease the discomfort. “Don’t be such a grump. Let’s go outside. Get a little fresh air.” 

You can see that people are starting to stare at the three of you. 

Wherever Satoru goes, eyes follow him. 

While he may be immune to the attention, you can clearly see that Nanami is not. 

“No, thank you.” 

“What? You going to make me beg?” Satoru presses cheekily, but there is a twinge of desperation in his voice. 

“Begging is not difficult for somebody like you,” Nanami bites, and you can’t help but glare at him in shock. 

“Kento!” you chastise, but the look on his face speaks volumes. 

Regret. 

Instantaneous Regret. 

In front of him is a visible hurt that breaks Satoru’s face, like paint slowly chipping away. His eyes gloss over, and he anxiously rubs his hand over the back of his undercut before excusing himself and turning on his heel. 

Nanami covers his face with his palm, while you can only stare at him in disbelief. 

“How can you say that to him? I thought you liked him!” You whisper. 

“I-I didn’t mean to-” 

“You act like you’re ashamed of him whenever he’s around you…” 

Nanami avoids your eye, “How do you think this makes me look? I can’t have people seeing us together. I don’t want the world to swallow me up just because he prefers being gawked at by everyone around him” 

“That’s his job - it’s how he earns a living. I can’t believe you would degrade him over it,” you shake your head, unaware of where your sudden defenses are coming from.

“I know that…” 

“Is that why you don’t want to talk about your trip? Did something happen?” 

The man grows quiet, a sigh escaping him. 

“I broke up with him” 

“You what?” You gasp. 

“It'll never work. Our lives are too different” 

“You didn’t even give him a chance, Ken. He likes you. He really, really likes you.” 

“What chance is there to give? My life would come apart because of him. He would never be truly mine. I would have to share him with the rest of the world day in and day out. And the worst part is that…what should be intimate between us will never be ours either. Do you know that he’s still the highest streamed porn star in the world-” 

“He’s just a person. A person like me and you. Neither one of us chose this life. I didn’t ask to be born into my family, and you weren’t asked to save yours from debt. Yet, here we are. Existing in a world that we had to carve out for ourselves. Don’t you think the same applies to him?” 

You take another sip of your drink, your cheeks warming with anger at your friend’s condescending tone towards Satoru. 

Although, you find your reasons for defending him to be far more self serving. 

“So what if he sells his body? That’s his choice to make. Does it change anything else about him? Does it change his feelings for you?” You lecture, “I can’t believe that you be this ungrateful over skewed morals. If you both care about each other, there is no reason why you can’t be together. Take it from somebody who’ll probably never get the chance. This isn’t something you want to simply let go of, Kento. You’ll regret this decision for the rest of your life.”

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Nanami downs his whiskey and excuses himself then, your words stinging the microscopic cuts on his heart. You find yourself a little flustered after watching him walk away, unsure of where that outburst even came from. 

The eyes surrounding you look away. 

You know you’ve given everyone within your peripheral area a story to gossip about. One that would be twisted and chewed until there is no morsel of truth left in it. 

Your drink gives you enough liquid courage to socialize and face the music instead. 

You steer your way through the crowd hoping to find one person in particular, but instead you are caught among the net of cliques, old faces, and fake friends. You manage to bypass any pointed questions, passing through each conversation with a forced grin and entertaining the discussions at hand with fluffy anecdotes and petty rumours. 

When you walk away, you know full well that there will be whispers behind your back.

That’s the give and take about this world. Everyone is a vulture secretly waiting to witness the rise and fall of those around them. It’s a vicious circle, which is why nobody ever reveals their true hand in the process.  

You glance around the room, honing in on the handsome dark haired boy you’ve grown entirely too attached too except you spot someone else in between who makes your spine seize.

Your toes curl in your pointed heels. 

Your heart stutters unsteadily. 

Blushed strands, a wolfish grin, and a broad build - Sukuna always takes up far more room than he needs. 

You personally believe it’s because his ego is so massive it requires that extra space. 

You haven’t seen the man in five years, not after the messy relationship that that followed your even messier break up. 

You should have known better than to get involved with him while still so young. 

You remember that version of you. When you first met Sukuna, you were a small rabbit who had accidentally hopped its way into a lone wolf’s den. Twenty one and just embracing the glitz and glamor of the world around you. The man was charming, flirtatious and most of all dangerous. You couldn’t help but return to his lair, especially when he would take the time and effort to approach you at every function, party and gathering that you attended. When you think about your relationship with Sukuna, it fills you with shame until you can only drown in it. There is a reason why you’ve kept it a secret for so long. Even staring at him right now, the dishonor hangs on your shoulder like a weighted sin that you’re burdened to carry for the rest of your life. Every time it hits, the memories play like a movie on hyper speed. 

How often you allowed him to spill his seed all over your body. How often he brought you to tears with his tongue between your legs. How often you would moan the words “daddy” over and over again while riding him. How often you let him manipulate your heart. How often you let him convince you that you were happy.  

That twisted relationship was testament to how broken you were. 

You didn’t even know about his wife who lived in Kyoto until it was far too late. 

Your instinct tells you to turn on your heel and walk in the other direction, but you catch Suguru just up ahead in the crowd and your courage outweighs your hesitation. 

You manage to stride past Sukuna,  a darting feline scurrying towards the safety of a shadow. Your hammering heart steadies itself when the trail of his strong cologne is a safe distance behind you. You nervously clutch onto the strap of your purse, exhaling a quick breath before marching up to Suguru. 

You tap his shoulder twice. 

He spins around, eyes lifting as a smile spreads across his handsome face. 

Like a full moon on a clear night sky. 

“Well, isn’t this a lovely surprise.” 

“I sure hope so,” you remark, biting your bottom lip playfully as you glance at your own feet. 

Suguru chuckles, taking a step closer. “It is.” 

You glance up at him from underneath your lashes, your heart vibrating with pure excitement. You think it’s silly to have such a schoolgirl infatuation over him, especially since you understood the terms that surrounding your relationship. 

You pay him for his company. 

You aren’t supposed to have a crush on man who you employ to have to sex with you. 

Yet, your gut tells you otherwise. Convinces you that the softness in which he speaks is reserved only for you. 

“Are you here with anyone?” You ask a little breathlessly, hoping that you weren’t interrupting him working. 

Suguru shakes his head. 

“Satoru invited me,” he clarifies, and it’s an answer that only makes you giddy. 

“Oh!” You squeak, “well that’s nice. It’s a really exclusive party, make sure you to take it in…” 

His eyes blatantly fall over you, cascading down your body like ink dripping over a canvas. 

Your cheeks warm. 

He’s not even hiding that he’s checking you out, and it triggers the wild desire within you. 

“Are you here alone?” He questions. 

You nod your head, knowing full well that Kento is probably in the midst of a heated conversation with his distraught lover and won’t be returning anytime soon. 

“Why don’t you join us then?” He adds, cocking his head to point at the table behind him. 

You glance over his shoulder, barely recognizing the crowd. 

A fact that seems ideal to you. 

“I’d love to,” you say with a pretty smile, all the while Suguru’s eyes continue sparkling. 

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The last time you saw Suguru was a few weeks ago, where your heavy heart spilled the news of your pending engagement. 

“An arranged marriage, huh?” he whispered in the dark, his sharp eyes dipping to your naked chest while his delicate fingers carefully pushed the bedsheet further down to your hips.

You inched a little closer into his frame, soaking in the outlines of his chiseled torso and bringing one finger to trace little shapes on his broad shoulder.

Your brows furrowed with annoyance, “yeah, ever heard of the Zen’in family?”

Suguru scoffed, breaking character for only a second but it’s something that you’ve caught him doing more recently. He doesn’t hold his reactions around you as tightly as he used to. The front of this alter ego that he created faltering, which is probably why you find yourself drawn to the person existing underneath the mask of the seducer.

You sigh before continuing your explanation, “my father thinks Naoya Zen’in is a perfect match for me.”

An uneasy expression flickered across Suguru’s face, but he suppresses it before allowing it to linger. 

You lifted yourself up onto your elbow and rest your cheek on your palm. “What is it?”

Suguru mirrors your position, his large hand gliding back and forth over the slope of your hips and waistline which sent goosebumps all over your body. “I’ve heard that Naoya…” Suguru stated, pinching the pads of his fingers lightly against your flesh before leaning forward to kiss the crease between your brows, “can be a handful to deal with…”

You thread your fingers around his neck, your lips finding his jaw where you return a kiss. “And who told you that?” you murmured as the weight of Suguru’s body rolls on top of yours.

You were staring at his devastatingly handsome face from below. The longer you spent time with him the more you began to wonder about his circumstances and a reoccurring thought crossed your mind once more.

Suguru could truly be anything he wanted, but instead he was here making a killing off of fucking lonely women and porn videos.

You don’t judge his choices, but you couldn't help but feel puzzled by the situation especially when you knew the trajectory of his best friend’s career path. 

One photo shoot at a mid-level fashion brand skyrocketed Satoru Gojo’s career and made him a household name. Yet, Suguru Geto was a taboo that was whispered behind closed doors. 

“I have a client who likes to gossip,” he admitted. 

That’s all you got because Suguru kept everything else about his clients confidential. You shivered when his mouth met your neck, his lips sucking along the tender skin that sent goosebumps all over your chest, but there’s an ache in your heart when you consider that if it wasn’t for the signed cheque in your purse, he wouldn’t even be here in the first place.

Not a single man you’ve met in the world compared to Suguru. You’ve never known how sweet lovemaking can be until he fucked you for the time. Not only was he beautiful beyond comprehension, but he was charming and extremely smart. You found yourself enjoying his company beyond physical purposes, and conversations with him turned out to be one of your favorite ways to pass time.

“Think we’ll still get together when you’re a missus?” he teased, his lips trailing lower to your collar bones and hovering just a above your breasts.

The thought of you getting married only made you sick.

“Do you peg me as a terrible wife? a woman who would happily cheat on her husband?” you questioned, your voice trembling when Suguru circled his lips around your hard nipple.

He hummed, drawing out a whimper when he nipped at the bud lightly, his tongue gliding over the hardened nub. 

“No,” he answered, his voice dropping an octave and your mind swirled when you contemplate if that strange tone is actually jealousy. He rested his chin on your chest, his inky hair framing his face in a waterfall of obsidian. “I do, however, peg Naoya as a terrible husband.”

You sank your fingers into his locks, “it doesn’t matter who my father chooses. All these men are the same. Naoya is no worse than the rest. I’m trapped regardless…”

It was the first time you allowed yourself to think about Sukuna when in bed with Suguru. The first time you thought about the last four years and the many men who tried to weasel their way into your heart just for the sake of obtaining status. The discomfort is written plainly on your face. Suguru doesn’t know that seeking him out was your way of taking matters into your own hands, even in just the smallest way. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he responded sincerely, the kindness in his voice the reason why your eyes prick with tears.

You sniffled, using your free hand to wipe away a rogue droplet that freely falls down your cheek. Suguru adjusted his position so he was lying by your side. He didn't say anything but draws you into his chest for a hug, enveloping you in his warmth. You tried hard not to consider the reality of the situation, and accept the gesture freely as you cuddle him.

But the moment of peace is interrupted by a loud vibration. You and Suguru both perked up to stare at his phone buzzing on the side table.

Your heart sank.

Another client.

Suguru reached his arm around to grab the phone, and you closed your eyes to inhale his natural scent, trying to soak him in for as long as you can before he leaves you like he’s done many times before.

To your surprise he simply switched it off, before proceeding to wrap his arm back around you to return to his position.

“You sure you don’t need to take that?” you mumbled, trying to play off your disappointment as casually as possible.

“I’m booked out for the rest of the evening,” he answered nonchalantly, “there’s no reason to respond.”

A tickle in your belly sent sparks all over your skin. “but your cheque only covers the hours we agreed on…”

Two fingers touched the underside of your chin, and Suguru tilted your head up so you were both face to face again. “Don’t worry about it,” he consoled, his thumb lightly outlining your bottom lip, “this is on the house.”

What bliss it was to fall asleep in his arms that night. You recall waking up right before dawn to find him in deep slumber, his strong arm draped protectively across your body with the heat cocooning you from the rest of the world. 

Disappointment shattered you the next morning, when you were greeted by the sun and an empty bed.

You’re not sure when Suguru had snuck out, but you were puzzled to find that your cheque was still tucked away safely in your purse. 

It was the first time he walked away without any payment. 

You still vividly remember his reaction when he met you just a little over a year ago. 

“You’re young,” he blurted, his eyes widening with confusion. 

“We’re around the same age,” you replied defensively, already feeling insecure for having hired him after spending weeks watching his videos. You didn’t even know about his house calls until you heard it from a source within your social circle. "Is this how you greet all your clients?”

Suguru raised his brow in contemplation, “my other clients don’t look like you…”

Over time you learned that he catered to a specific demographic: older divorcees and cheating housewives.

The person you might turn into years from now if this marriage goes through.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

After that night you told yourself that you would schedule another meeting with Suguru to compensate him for his last session.

Right now, all you can think about is your heart hammering when Suguru subtly interlaces his fingers with your own, and leads you through the crowd until you both find a safe spot on the corner of the lounge chair. His group is far too engrossed in their own conversations to notice you both, drunk on the buzzing night and enjoying the many amenities of this exclusive party. 

“You look nice,” you compliment, catching Suguru’s attention while trying to ignoring his knees bumping against yours.

“As do you,” he replies, his voice smoother than velvet. “But you don’t need me to tell you that you’re gorgeous.” 

Oh but I do, you think, masking your excitement with a giggle and casual roll of your eyes. I could hear you tell me that forever. 

Suguru shyly looks down at his lap, hiding his own smile. 

It’s strange, you think, how the two of you are talking. Like this man hasn’t been inside you multiple times and made you cum until you can’t think straight. Like he doesn’t know your body in the most intimate sense.

Like you don’t fund a decent chunk of his salary. 

“Are you enjoying the party?” 

Suguru shrugs, “It’s not too bad. Though, I’m not one for big crowds if I am being completely honest...” 

“Makes sense. I don’ get a kick out of it as much as I used to.”

Suguru angles his body to face you, giving you his full attention. “Why’s that?” 

You sigh, your hands suddenly feeling empty without a drink. You sling your purse off your shoulder and place it between you both, before proceeding to fiddle with the fabric of your dress instead. 

You can lie, but you don’t know how. 

Well, you don’t know how to lie with him. 

Something about starting this contract with Suguru unveiled a level of vulnerability in you that you can’t seem to hide. The first night you both spent together you were a nervous wreck, stumbling and bumbling over words trying to find excuse after excuse as to why a woman of your age would even hire him. By your third appointment, you asked if he could be slow and gentle with you, the emotional scars of your previous relationship a stinging wound. You were desperate for tenderness, and Suguru obliged with your request. By the end you found yourself reaching your climax with tears in your eyes. 

If you were to list out more moments like this, you would simply go on and on. 

You can’t hide your truth with Suguru when it was the first thing you’ve ever shown him. 

“Because it’s a constant reminder that I can be in a room full of people I know and still feel incredibly alone…” you mumble, your gaze catching his. 

His hand finds your thighs, the warmth of his large palm burning through the fabric of your dress. 

“You’re not alone tonight, sweetheart,” he reassures. 

“You don’t have to be so nice…” you insist, suddenly self conscious over his flattery. The same sweetness he bestows upon you when you’re both locked away in a hotel room somewhere, but you didn’t sign off on any bonus transactions tonight. 

He squeezes your thigh and tilts his head. “But I like being nice to you” 

He says it so matter of factly it almost makes you faint. 

Your brows upturn with confusion. “Why?” 

His touch expands upward, grazing over the curve of your thigh, bunching the material of your dress between his fingers. He leans closer, the scent of bergamot wafting up your nose and kissing your neck. 

“Look there,” he states, and you follow the line of his gaze. 

“That woman has been married for fifteen years and her husband never got her off once. And that woman…” he continues, shifting his eyes from body to body, “has a birth mark just above her hip bone. And at the table right behind us,” 

When you turn your face you accidentally bump into the tip of his nose. 

“...are two sisters who pretend they get along well but are currently in a massive fight over their inheritance” 

Your stomach coils with jealousy. “Acquaintances of yours?” 

 Suguru leans back slightly, giving you both room to breathe. 

“Yes, clients…” he confirms, “there’s a few of them here tonight, but you’re the only one who acknowledges me. I’m just a dirty little secret to the rest.” 

Your envy dwindles into sympathy, and you can’t help but let the question slip. 

“How does that make you feel?” 

There’s a twitch in Suguru’s jaw, a hint of scarred pride. You know he has plenty of it, he just hides it well.

The man shrugs, averting his sharp gaze as he downs the rest of his drink. “It is what it is” 

Oh, but that response doesn’t nothing to help your heart, the muscle practically screaming at your brain to do so something and make him feel better. 

Mindlessly, you loop both arms around his bicep, casually resting your chin on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way...” 

You’re not sure why you’re apologizing, but you’re hoping it’ll mean something to him. He turns to face you, and if he inched a little closer he could probably kiss you. 

“You are an enigma to me” 

“In what way?” 

He brushes his lips past your own, making you catch your breath for a moment. His mouth trails its way up to your ear, and he whispers a sentence that sends goosebumps running all over your body. 

“In the way that how a woman like you can fit in a life like this” 

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The night carries on, the pulse of hedonism sending reverberations across the establishment. The crowd grows larger, the air a potion of liquor, expensive cologne, sweat and pleasure. The lights dim, inducing everyone into the trance of the ambience set around them, allowing them to indulge and consume. Your conversation with Suguru feels like minutes, but two whole hours pass with the both you concealed from the crowd. You’re almost mesmerized by him when he talks, cast under an entirely different spell that seems to effect nobody else. His touches turn more intimate the longer you speak, with Suguru securing his arm around your waist and leaning back against the chair as he keeps you tucked into his frame. 

That’s another thing you started noticing - how this man likes to hold you. 

He even did it when you were in bed together last. 

And the time before that. 

And the time before that. 

And the time before that-

If you weren’t surrounded by so many eyes you would simply curl into him, but you find yourself restraining while thinking of what excuse might work to get you both out of here because you just want to be alone with him. 

“Can I get you a drink?” Suguru offers, a wave of disappointment rolling into you as he untangles himself slowly. 

“Just some water...” 

Suguru kisses the inside of your wrist with the reassurance that he’ll be right back, but the public display only makes your cheeks bloom with endearment. 

“Got it” 

When he stands up and walks away is when you notice how the crowd around you has dispersed. Most of Suguru’s party were gone - standing either by the bar or caught in the middle of the dance floor. You can see that there were a few shifty eyes staring at you, and a lump forms in your throat when you realize that by allowing yourself to melt into Suguru it meant that you revealed your weakness to the rest of the wild. 

You take a second to readjust - fixing the hem of your dress before pulling out your pocket mirror and reapplying your lipstick. You fight off any anxious thoughts, sticking a big metaphorical middle finger to whoever was watching you with any hint of judgement. 

Your care for Suguru outweighed their own by tons. 

You just didn’t know how far you had let your guard down until a strange shadow veils over you. 

“Red still looks good on you.” 

Your heart doesn’t sink, it seizes, collapses into itself when you drop the mirror in your hand. His dark chuckle makes your spine tingle with unease. Sukuna kneels to pick up your mirror, his devilish smiling greeting you as you swallow the lump in your throat. 

“What? Cat got your tongue?” He teases, huffing out another laugh when you snatch the pocket mirror from his hand and quickly throw your things back into your purse. 

“I have to go.” 

You bolt onto your feet, only to pause when his contact scorches your forearm. 

“What’s the rush? I’m just saying hi.” 

You shrug him off aggressively, eyes violent and full of fury. 

“I don’t want to say hi to you. As a matter of fact, I hope that we never have to speak again.”  

“C’mon doll, don’t be like that. It’s water under the bridge…” 

His nonchalance enrages in you ways that you can’t describe, but rather than make a scene you smoothly shove him aside before uttering “asshole” and storming off towards the bar. 

Your frantic eyes search for your solace, of the man who can suture any wound that’s in desperate need of healing. You spot him from behind, noticing that he is speaking to a friend, his shoulder leaning on the bar as he patiently waits to pick up the drinks like he promised. Refusing to look back because you know Sukuna is probably on your trail, you breathe out your apprehension to compose yourself and keep one hand securely on your purse before steadily making your way towards to Suguru. 

You hear the two of them as you draw closer,  unintentionally eavesdropping on the conversation at hand. 

“Who’s the chick?” his friend asks. 

“A friend.” Suguru replies. 

“Which friend?” they press. 

“None of your business…” 

“Ah, one of your desperate clients I’m guessing?” 

You cease before making your presence known.

Stunned; your face boiling with embarrassment. 

“Shut up.” 

“It’s so obvious, Suguru-” his friend scoffs, “she’s practically crawling on your lap. It’s fucking pathetic, don’t you think?” 

Pathetic?

The word splits you into half.

Is that how Suguru sees you? 

Is that how everyone else does to? 

Something clicks then, every memory and act of kindness tainted with the thought the man was simply pitying you. That the root of his good-hearted nature was merely sympathy towards a sad, broken little rich girl. 

Suguru picks up the drink, mumbling a “fuck off” before turning on his heel only to find you standing there stupefied by his friend’s demeaning commentary. Only an idiot would assume that you probably didn’t hear a thing, but Suguru is far smarter than that. Whatever trace of the mask he’s been wearing dissipates then, and you see the genuine concern on his face. He parts his lips but you’re too wounded for an explanation, and you instantly dash past both of them, excusing yourself politely before speed walking your way towards the exit. 

You can hear him call out your name, but there is no way you would let that man see you crying after what was just said. 

Of course he doesn’t like me, you self-consciously deliberate, I pay him to fuck me. 

I pay him to fucking like me. 

A sob leaves you, and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand as you rush past the bouncer and dart out the front door, leaving a crowd of people staring at you with confusion. All of them hoping to make their way inside.

“Must be drunk,” one person says, while another screams at the bouncer “hey, can you let us in?! Someone just left!” 

You strut down the street, desperately trying to maintain your balance as you dab your eyes lest your tears ruin your make up. You hear someone call out your name, half hopeful that it might Suguru but when you glance over your shoulder all you see is the dreadful sight of your ex-boyfriend. 

You keep walking.  “Don’t follow me.” 

Sukuna is quick to catch up, practically jogging down the street and you curse your choice in footwear for slowing you down. 

“Then don’t keep running away.” 

You halt, the man nearly colliding into you from behind. 

“What?!” you spit out as you glare up at him. “What do you want from me?” 

Sukuna arches his brow, the smell of whiskey sticking to him. “The fuck got you so worked up?” 

You wipe away any leftover tears, your indignation towards this man overriding all other emotions. 

“None of your fucking business…” 

Sukuna reaches for your elbow, “Let’s not be testy. My car is in front of the bar. Let me take you home.” 

You already caught that eye sore of a ridiculously expensive sports car when you stepped out of club. “I’d rather walk home barefoot on a bed of hot coals then go anywhere with you.” 

“Don’t be like that, kitten…”

“Don’t,” you snapped, “call me that.” 

“You know I still nothing but love for you, right?” He slurs mildly, “Let me take you back to my place and we can talk-”  

His thumb grazes your elbow gently. Once upon a time you actually believed that his affection was real, but you’re older and wiser to know the truth now. “You miss my pussy,” you crudely admonish, “you don’t give a fuck about me.” 

He pinches your elbow with mild irritation. “Why don’t you tuck those claws back. I’m trying to have a fucking conversation.” 

“If a conversation is what you want, then speak to your fucking wife-” you hiss, striking a cord that makes Sukuna furrow his brows which brings you an odd sense of satisfaction. 

His face falls. 

You huff with approval. 

“What?” your mock, “cat got your tongue?” 

“Is everything alright?” 

You and Sukuna both halt, your heads twisting to face whoever spoke with Sukuna letting go of you faster than you can even blink. You only catch a tiny glimpse of his fear, the terror that somebody caught him in the act. 

Thankfully, it was only Suguru. 

Your body hums with relief. 

One hand is in his pocket, the other keeping a helmet tucked under his wing. His stance is relaxed but his irises are piercing daggers sinking into Sukuna’s skull.

“Everything’s fine-” Sukuna insists. 

“Suguru,” you call out at the same time, instantly going to him and finding your place by his side.

The word pathetic hammers in the back of your mind but you need deal with one problem at a time, and right now you don’t care about looking desperate if it means escaping the shackles of Ryomen Sukuna. 

Suguru’s eyes don’t leave your ex-lover, but he inches closer towards you to assert his ground. 

Sukuna frowns, the expression on his face all too familiar. 

You clutch Suguru’s sleeve, “Nothing to fret over. Do you mind taking me home?” 

He turns to face you, a mixture of worry with a flare of anger on that handsome face.  

“Yeah, I’ll take you home.” 

“Tsk,” Sukuna grumbles with frustration, “Don’t cheapen yourself by fucking off with some whore…” 

A static shock trickles each point of the triangle where you all stand. The hair on the back of your neck stands upright, your attention moving to Suguru whose entire face darkens with a fury that you’ve never seen before. He steps forward, his helmet dropping to his hand like he’s ready to wield it as a weapon, and the target is the spot on Sukuna’s skull that he’s been carefully observing. Your vision goes white imagining the outcome of this blow out, and you can practically hear the crack of the impact if Suguru follows through. 

Despite how much he deserved it, you know just how powerful Sukuna is. 

He would ruin Suguru without any remorse. 

“Suguru,” you beg, stepping forward and clutching onto his shirt as you reel him away from the man before you. 

His nostrils flare, the intoxicating poison of wrath swirling in his irises which quickly diffuses upon finding you. 

“Take me home?” You softly repeat, earnest and sincere, all the while erasing Sukuna from your presence entirely. 

It only takes a few seconds for Suguru to register your request, but he complies by reaching for your hand and knotting his fingers between your own. He grips it protectively, eyes looking straight ahead as he leads you down the street and far away from the chaos behind you. 

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The patter of your feet colliding onto the concrete surface echoes around you. A part of you is embarrassed, the other ashamed, a third grateful while a fourth shivers anxiously. You’re thankful that Suguru is at least allowing the silence to linger because it’s giving you a chance to settle from the roller coaster of emotions you just experienced. You try not to think about the pressure of his grip, or how the length of his fingers are wrapped securely around yours and instead piece together some semblance of an explanation worthy for him to listen to. 

You eventually decide that you’ll just grab a cab back to your place. That you’ll thank Suguru for playing the role of rescuer, and hand off the cheque that you’ve been holding onto. You won’t be a burden, bother him any longer or a do anything else to force his empathy. 

Suguru pauses in front of a jet black motorbike. The color itself blending into the darkness around you. You clear your throat ready to make your declaration, but you’re silenced when you feel the weight of his helmet press against your palms. 

“Wear this,” he commands. “I’ll take you to my place.” 

Your mouth goes slack, your practiced words shrinking to the back of your throat. 

His place. 

“Your place?” You find yourself whispering your thoughts out loud. 

Suguru reaches for the handle of his bike, tapping his index finger against it, his back facing you. “If you want.” 

He hops on before searching you for an answer. The look animates you back to reality and you nod your head before swiftly putting on the helmet. You find your place behind him, taking a second longer to adjust in your dress. You knot your arms around his waist, your eyes noting his exposed head. 

“You don’t have a helmet.” You point out. 

“I don’t live that far,” he answers back, “besides, I didn’t think I’d be traveling with precious cargo.” 

He taps his palm over your clasped hands. “Hold tight for me, alright?” 

You nod your head, covering your face with the shield visor before resting your cheek against his back. 

Suguru takes off. 

The wind whips against your bare arms, the pressure sweeping between your legs as Suguru swerves between each lane. The city blurs into vivid colors, only resurfacing when you come to an immediate halt at the traffic light. The adrenaline courses through your veins, the exhilarating sensation a thrill that you’ve never experienced before. Unfortunately, the journey was short lived and within twenty minutes you find yourself coming to a halt in an underground parking lot. 

Suguru parks the bike, hopping off before reaching his hand out to assist you. 

Your legs felt like jelly when it hits the surface, and you tumble on your own footing as Suguru reaches his other hand out to steady you by holding your waist. 

“You okay? Was I going to fast?” 

You take off the helmet, attempting to make yourself look somewhat presentable. 

“No, no” you answer a little breathless, “that…that was actually kind of fun…” 

“First time?”

You nod your head. 

Suguru hums. 

He takes the helmet away from you and directs you straight to the entrance of his apartment building. He pulls out an electronic key, and presses it against the elevator door. The elevator pings, the panels sliding open as you both step inside. Suguru clicks the button to his floor and you both stand on opposite sides watching the numbers go up.

Suguru lived in a newer development, you could tell when you walked through the hallway as he stands in front of his apartment door, and uses the same key to grant you both entrance. 

As you enter the hallway, you’re greeted by a wall with mounted iron hooks. There’s five to be exact, each one holding a different helmet with one space empty. Suguru fits the helmet back onto the vacant spot, before glancing over his shoulder and finding you still by the door struggling to take off your heels. 

He returns and kneels before you. His hands carefully moving your fingers away. 

“Let me help with that” 

“You don’t have to-” but you’re interrupted with him patting his thigh in gesture. 

You bite your bottom lip and place one foot against him, careful not to dig your heel into him. 

He delicately unravels the straps around your ankle and slips of the heel with a brush to the back of your calf, making the muscle twitch. 

“Other foot,” he instructs, then repeats. 

After placing your shoes neatly by the door, he stands up and reaches for your hand once more. “This way” 

You take it warmly, and follow him while trying your best not to acknowledge the noticeable height difference with you two standing side by side.

You never paid much attention to it before, you didn't have too really considering you both spent most of your time together in parallel positions. 

Suguru leads you into the living room, and a small gasp escapes you when you are met with floor to ceiling windows. The horizon is of the city skyline, but it’s half blocked by a decent size balcony which is covered in greenery. The scene contrasts the inside of Suguru’s apartment, which is more minimal. To your right is a small dining nook, the light above an accent piece that added some detail to the decor. To your left is a small furniture set, the sage green fabric making you avert your gaze with shame because your recognized that very same couch in most of Suguru’s videos. 

You find yourself quickly staring at your feet. 

“Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Tea?” 

“Tea would be great,” you answer back, returning to look directly at him from underneath your lashes. “Do you have anything herbal?” 

“Mhmm.” 

You follow him into the kitchen and realize that the man keeps his place meticulously clean. The back counter is what catches your attention the most. Suguru has a full serviced at home barista station set up for his own convenience. You pick out the coffee grinder, espresso machine, assortment of tea pots, jars of fresh leaves and coffee bags all neatly organized. 

Suguru pulls out one jar with a hand written label that reads "lemon balm and chamomile". 

You slip off your purse and place it on the counter behind him. “Did you make all these yourself?” 

“My parents used to run a tea shop in Hokkaido,” he answers back. 

“A tea shop?” You squeak, a little too excited from the morsel of information about his personal life that he just bestowed. “That must have been lovely…” 

“It was,” he answers, his voice growing small. 

You watch him fill the kettle with water, before placing it on the electric stove to warm up. He opens the jar, closing the gap of space between you both and lifts it to your nose. 

“Take a deep breath in,”

You oblige, and inhale. 

“Oh my,” you sigh out loud, your fingers subconsciously clasping over his own as your eyes flutter from the aroma of citrus, ginger, flora and subtle spice. It calms every firing nerve in your body. “That smells wonderful” 

When you open them again, you see that Suguru is looking at you thoughtfully. 

“It tastes good too,” he says proudly, and your heart glows at the reaction. “I was a terrible night owl as a kid. Still am, I guess. My mom used to make this to help me go to sleep…” 

“That’s really sweet,” you admit, wondering how lovely it must be to be looked after with such care. 

He slips away again, taking a spoon and putting a generous amount of the blend into a ceramic tea pot. You hear the tea bubble lightly, but your head spins as Suguru cages you in place while you both wait for it to reach the right temperature. Your back is against the counter, his arms by your side. 

“That guy you were talking to. Who was that?” He questions, cutting right to the chase. 

“Nobody important,” you confess, “he’s an asshole.”

“Tell me about it.” 

“I’m sorry about what he said to you. What he called you…”  

Suguru’s fingers dig into the counter, making the muscles in his arms flex with irritation. 

“Don’t apologize for him. Don’t apologize for any of them.” He firmly maintains. “Their words are empty to me...” 

“You almost bashed his head in,” you point out, a tiny smile easing the tension binding around the man before you. 

“I almost bashed his head because of the way he spoke to you-” 

Your eyes widen. 

Was he being protective? You think, but shake your head when you think of what kind of pitiful state you must have been that would cause Suguru to react in such a way. 

Pathetic. 

Your shoulders dwindle slightly and you shake it off to gather yourself once more. 

“He was a terrible mistake. I was young, and stupid. I thought I knew better when I really had no fucking clue…” 

You didn’t realize how bitter you sounded until two fingers press underneath your jaw.

His thumb taps your chin in a featherlight touch. “Is it over? Whatever it was?” 

“Of course,” you answer, the truth acrid on your tongue. “I’m to marry Naoya Zen’in, remember?”

Suguru frowns. “He’s no better. I told you that myself.” 

You circle your hand around his wrist. “I’ll take anyone over Sukuna. Even if that person is Naoya…” 

“Why can’t you just choose?” 

You press your lips together and sigh. “Because it’s a transaction. I’m a token in my father’s universe. If he weds me off to the Zen’in’s then it’s profitable. Good for business…” 

“I’m sure if you speak with him, he’ll understand-” 

“Don’t be so naive,” you answer as you return to meet his gaze. “My father doesn’t love me. He just owns me. I spent most of my adolescence alone while he was busy working or galavanting off with his mistress.  I think he assumed that if he kept shoving money my way, I wouldn’t notice his absence…” 

The kettle sings, making you both jump in place as the water bubbles aggressively and a small spiral of steam releases from the lip. Suguru returns to making your beverage. Picking up the kettle and pouring the hot water into the pot. He places it on a tray, along with a beautiful cup. 

“The tea needs a couple of minutes to steep. In the meanwhile, I’m going to change into something more comfortable.” He announces, “You want some spare clothes?” 

You look down at your designer frock, the material snug on your body. 

“Yeah, I’d like that” 

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Suguru’s white shirt falls to your mid thigh, the material a little see through and revealing the bra you had on underneath. You eye the pair of worn boxers he handed to you to wear as shorts, but slyly tuck your bottom lip between your teeth before leaving it behind and walking out with your bare legs on display. 

You’re not quite sure what the plan is here, but you don't see yourself leaving anytime soon.

You head back towards the kitchen where you pick up your purse, your dress folded between your hands carefully. Suguru is opening the door to the balcony, having changed into a cut sleeve shirt that exposes his arms and a hint of his ribs, as well as a pair of loose shorts. When he hears you enter, his attention instantly falls to your plush thighs, a hint of crimson blushing his cheek. 

“Where can I keep my stuff?” You ask innocently, pretending to ignore his reaction. 

“Anywhere is fine,” he answers back, his voice thick. 

He tells you that he’ll wait for you outside, and in the meantime you put down your stuff onto the coffee table in front of his sofa.

You unzip your purse, Suguru’s cheque staring you at you with wide, scolding eyes. 

Pathetic. 

You furrow your brows at the voice inside your head, and swipe the payment before folding it and tucking it securely against your hip underneath the waistband of your underwear. 

You head outside, sliding the window close behind you. 

Suguru is sitting on a deck chair, the two of you camouflaged by the array of his overgrown plants. He pours your cup of tea, the aroma twirling between the current of the wind as he offers it your way. You pick it up, bringing it to your lips and taking a sip. A heavy sigh escapes you, and you remain standing leaning back against the cool glass surface as you stare out into the distance. 

“Like it?” Suguru asks, and you only notice then that he has also brought out a second cup for himself and is pouring his own drink. 

“It’s divine,” you respond. 

“I’m glad” 

The two of you sit in silence once more, mindlessly sipping your tea while contemplating the other person. You’re both at a clear standstill, carefully tiptoeing over the boundary that has so been strictly set in place. 

A reminder of that is the folded cheque digging into your skin. 

“How did you find out about contacting me?” Suguru randomly wonders. 

You look towards him and he shrugs before adding on, “I never asked. I find myself curious.” 

You thrum your nails against the glass cup, taking another sip of your tea before replying, “I saw you at a party with Satoru. I was with a group of friends, and one of them noticed me recognizing you. She asked if I was…familiar with your work. And when I told her I was she informed me that you both were…intimate.” 

“Was it Mei?” 

Your face falls at the blatant disregard of confidentiality. 

“How-How did you know?” 

Suguru huffs, and sips his tea. 

“She’s the only other client I had close to our age. Wasn’t hard to make the connection…” 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Go for it,” he replies. 

“I’ve always been curious as to how you wound up doing what you do,” you bite your bottom lip nervously, your hands trembling slightly holding your glass and you hope that Suguru wouldn’t notice your sudden unease. 

“Ah,” he acknowledges, his free hand moving to rub the back of his neck and you can’t help but sneak a peak at his abdomen from the side. “Well, I told you how I wound up making the videos. For a long time I just did solo work, but I knew I could make more money if I had on-screen partners to film with. I had a few good connections with some actresses and hired a friend to make a video with me…” 

You knew exactly which one he was talking about. 

The actress in question was well known, and the video was an amateur clip that was filmed on the very same couch that you walked passed earlier. 

You clench your thighs together. 

You don’t even want to admit how many times you came to that particular video. 

“I didn’t know it would blow up in the way that it did. Shoko and I made a killing off it. We both saw the potential and we wound up doing six full episodes - trying out different techniques, roleplaying in a few…” 

“But you stopped posting after that…” 

Suguru pauses. “How would you know that?” 

You swallow a big gulp of tea. 

“I might have been a big fan of your work before we met.” 

“Really?” He answers with a slight tilt of his head, clearly very amused. 

“I wouldn’t have reached out to just anyone, you know. But I was really interested in...your work, and when I learned about your little side gig. I couldn’t resist…” 

“Well, color me flattered, sweetheart.” 

You swirl the last bits of tea in your cup. 

“So, why did you stop posting?” 

“I kept the videos up. They’re good and I still make revenue with every ad or view. Satoru’s career was picking up around that time, and he had just gotten clean. He needed somebody to hold him accountable so I started tagging along at his events. I didn’t realize how many people would recognizeme. My first client wasn’t even "a client", he gestures with air quotes, "she was just some woman I met and slept with. I woke up the next morning to an empty hotel room. All that she left behind was an envelope of cash…” 

He pauses. 

“I didn’t know what to feel. A part of me was insulted but another part had never seen that much money handed over so easily. The videos were great but what I earned in a day, is what I got in just a few hours. I was in my mid-twenties, just left the brink of making ends meet and desperate for security. I deposited the cash and kept going. Somehow it snowballed into…” he gestures his arms out, “this.” 

He pours himself another cup of tea. “At first I was a little reckless. Took on too many clients it damn near gave me a health scare. So, I started spacing them out. Keeping to a set number a month and maintaining a high price. I didn’t think that so many people would actually pay for my services, but they do...and I'm comfortable.” 

“Does it ever overwhelm you?” 

“Not anymore. Keeping my partners to a minimum helps. I’m safe and get tested regularly, as I mentioned when we first met,” He lifts the teapot your direction to offer you a second cup, and you accept it by approaching him and allowing him to fill your glass. 

“The thing is I went from never knowing when I was going to eat to having three meals a day. I don’t think I’d change that for the world…” 

“What about your family? Your friends?” You find yourself mindlessly asking. "How do they feel about this?"

“Satoru and Shoko are the only ones who know. Everyone else thinks it’s porn that funds my life. As for my family,” Suguru stops, his voice scratchy as he quickly clears his throat. “Well, they don’t have to worry about it. My parents passed away when I was fifteen. It's just been me ever since”  

The tea burns your lip  and your body trembles at the statement. 

“I’m so sorry…” 

He shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly. 

There’s a heaviness in the air, and despite how hard he’s trying to hide it you can see how the memory tears him apart. 

“My mom passed away giving birth to me,” you find yourself disclosing to even the scale, “I think that’s probably why my father resents me so much. He never got a son, and lost his wife in the process” 

“I’m sorry to hear that too…” 

You mirror his shrug. “It’s weird. I find myself curious about her - but there’s a detachment when I look at her. Sometimes I think about how different my life might be if she was still around. Or, if she was just like my father and everything would still be the same…” 

“Well, since we are speaking of hypotheticals,” Suguru moves on, shifting the topic as he angles his body more in your direction. “If you had the freedom to whatever you wanted, what would you do?” 

“Me?” You gasp, shocked by his pointed question. 

He smiles an easy smile, “I don’t see anybody else around.” 

You hum thoughtfully. “This might take a minute…” 

He places his cup of tea on the tray by his side and then pats his free hand on his thigh. 

“C’mere and think.” 

Your heart flies up your throat, pulsing just at the base. “You want me to sit on your lap?” 

Suguru nods his head. 

You gulp down the vessel, returning it back to its place. You glide your way towards him, placing the tea cup just next to his own, before settling down onto his lap. 

Suguru wraps his arm around your waist, securing you close into his frame. 

“Do you hold your other clients like this?” 

He shakes his head no. 

“So, you like holding me…” you bluntly point out, “why’s that?” 

Suguru’s face is directly in front of yours, so beautiful you can almost faint right here in his arms. He fingers dig into your waist, his other arm curving over your thigh and gently drawing circles on your hip. 

“Because you fit nicely against me” 

A swarm of butterflies take flight, making you feel lighter than air. You swear he might kiss you then but instead he returns to his question. “So, tell me what would you do?” 

The answer comes to you far easier than you think. From the moment you saw him tonight, you know the truth in the depths of your heart. “I’d like to run away with you,” you confess before stuttering out, “or-or at least somebody like you. Someone who is kind and sweet and thoughtful...”

Suguru leans back against the chair, lifting up one leg and adjusting your positions. He’s careful not to kick the tray with the tea. 

“And where would we go?” 

You sling your arms around his neck, “anywhere - anywhere but here.” 

Suguru slides his palm over the slop of your rear, slipping it underneath the fabric of his shirt and tracing a line over the dimples on your lower back.

“What would we do?” 

“We could lay outside just like this and watch the stars.” 

He hums, “we don’t get any stars out here in the city...”

“No, we don’t.” 

“What else would we do?” 

His other hand starts to unbutton the front of your shirt, revealing the details of the lace underneath. He cups your right breast, his lips shifting to find your neck. 

“We’d do this too,” you sing merrily. 

“Look at stars and fuck our brains out?” He teases, his teeth nipping at your skin. “Sounds like a dream to me…”

He gropes the fat of your breast, unknotting every single secret. “what else?” 

“We’ll sleep all day, and kiss until we’re bored of one another…” 

The hand on your breast moves to circle your neck, Suguru’s thumb massaging the column. 

“I’d never grow bored kissing you-” 

Your body renders against his touch. “Suguru,” you moan, your lips seeking his own. 

Before you can even meet for the kiss, he mumbles your name and follows up with the claim: “you should run away with me.” 

You giggle, still living in the proposed fantasy. “I’m trying to…” 

“I’m being serious” 

The tone of his voice is the reason why you stop to kiss him, pulling away to face the man before you. 

There's no denying the truth on his face - he is actually quite serious about the declaration. 

You hear the dreaded word once more: pathetic. Pathetic because this man is an expert at fulfilling fantasies, is a professional when it comes to healing the hearts of the lonely.

Pulling yourself out of this delusional imagination, you push off him before standing up straight. 

“That’s not funny, Suguru” 

“Who says I’m being funny?” He responds sincerely. 

“What is this? What are we doing? What am I doing? You can’t just-” you lament, pressing your forehead to hand in disbelief as you enter the confines of his apartment, taking a second to breathe. “You can’t just say things like that-” 

He calls out your name again, but the kraken has already been released. 

He follows, tracking into his abode right behind you, all the while watching you stand in the middle of his living room with your quivering hands reaching for the waistband of your underwear.  

“This was a terrible idea. I shouldn’t have-I shouldn’t have gone through with all of this,” you yank out the cheque, showing it to him. “You don’t have to take pity on me. I know I’m just another desperate, pathetic client, alright? I promise you don't have to keep putting up with me and my drama after this. And you sure as hell don't have to keep giving me these mixed messages which only confuse me. I can’t have things getting complicated right before this engagement is about to happen. So, here. Take this cheque and let’s just forget everything else about tonight.” 

Suguru stands there, pensive. His eyes look to the folded paper in your hand, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. Instead of reaching for the paper, he simply walks past you, making you spin on your heel as you follow his movements with sheer bewilderment. 

He heads towards the shelf behind you and pulls out a tiny box. He removes something from it, before walking back and facing you once more. 

“Shit got complicated about eight cheques ago, sweetheart,” he negates, holding the thin stack papers between his two fingers as he brings it to your face. His eyes fall to to the crumpled one you are currently holding, “Well, counting the one in your hand, I’d say nine...” 

You can’t believe it.

You pick up the wad and sift through each paper; each cheque one of yours, the date issued a reflection of your last nine meetings with Suguru. 

None of them cashed in. 

“Why do you still have these?” 

Two hands find your waist, your forearms fall into Suguru’s chest as you stare mindlessly at the cheques fanned out between your fingers. 

“I didn’t have it on my conscious to deposit them once I realized my feelings for you. I'm sorry about what you heard earlier, but what Mahito said doesn't apply to you at all,” he responds. “You stopped being a client to me for quite some time...” 

You look up at him. 

His touch tightens around your waist. “You can’t marry Naoya. Or, you shouldn’t. But if you do, I don’t want us to stop seeing one another. We can work something out…”

“Suguru,” you pine, dropping the papers in your hand, each one twirling onto the ground, thousands at your feet. 

His lips catch yours in a subtle peck, all before circling over your bottom lip and sucking on the plush base. He slides his tongue between your lips, feeling yourcrumple into him as the paper crinkles beneath your feet. You moan feeling the sensation of his tongue slide across yours - he tastes like running across a field of chamomile flowers, like you’re holding a basket of fresh, ripe lemons. 

Like you're savoring the most beautiful sunrise. 

His hands return to finish unbuttoning your shirt, shrugging the material off your shoulders and exposing your expensive lingerie set. He grips your hips, your ass - his touch hungry before pressing his pelvis closer to your frame so you can feel his aching member beneath his shorts. 

You squeak into another kiss when he swiftly picks you up from the back of your thighs and carries you across the living room. 

He places you onto his sofa like you’re made of porcelain, keeping you on the edge as he kneels to the ground, his knees sinking into the rug. Two hands find your inner thighs which he pushes apart to reveal the pretty triangle fabric covering your sweet cunt. He kisses your clit over the material. Once, twice, three times…until you’re sighing into the pillow behind you. His tongue drags up, pressing your clothing against your sex, one hand drawing upward to find yours which he holds lovingly. His index and middle finger hook underneath your underwear, and he tugs it aside to reveal your slick coated pussy. 

He kisses your clit again, leaving a path down your damp lips which only makes you moan angelically. 

“This is why I’d never get bored kissing you,” he coos, “You sound like heaven whenever I do...”

Your only response is a vowel, your hand holding onto Suguru’s for dear life as he returns to eat out with such devotion it almost brings tears to your eyes. You pant softly, his wet tongue making you weep between your legs and he gathers your essence and swallows it to parch his craving. You whine feeling the snap of your underwear pinch into your skin when Suguru lets go of the material to mold his palm over the slope of your pelvis. His thumb strokes the back of your hand, his tongue sinking between your wet folds, lips suckling on the petals of your cunt. 

Your hips arch off the sofa, desperate for friction, but Suguru pins you firmly back down. 

“Easy, easy…” he appeases, “don’t cum just yet. Hold off f’me, just for a little bit…” 

He’s never asked because there was never a reason to. For the most part, he was always there to service you. Allowed you to use his body to get you off as many times as you so desired. 

Your voice breaks, “okay,” you answer, drawing out a long exhale when he dives back in. 

The hand on your pelvis climbs up the steps of your ribs, reaching for band of your bra right at the middle. He curls his finger over the boning, and tugs the material allowing your breasts to spill free. He finds the bud of your nipple and tweaks it between his finger, pinching and pulling the aching nub until your writhing beneath him. 

He slurps and sucks, while you moan and whimper, forcing yourself to hold off for as much as your can but you find that it’s far harder to do when your lower belly quakes as it sits on the brink of release. 

“Suguru, Suguru…” you beg, reaching your free hand to your breast and clenching over his fingers. “Suguru, I can’t-m’gonna cum if you don’t stop…” 

He groans against your cunt, pulling away from your pulsing core and letting go of your hand to wipe the dampness off his chin. 

He licks his lips, drunk off lust and of how you taste. 

He keeps his body upright, drags your legs to secure them around his waist as he straightens your back. His hands unhook your bra from behind, the scent of you strong on his lips as he leans up for a kiss. Your hands fall to his shoulders, your belly fluttering as your sex begs for more stimulation. 

Suguru loosens the bra, allowing it to fall to your elbows before kneading your breasts - his thumb swipes back and forth over your nipples. He devours your cry, wolfs down every panting breath as he moans into the kiss. Your hands slip underneath his shirt, taking in the lines of strong abdomen.

“Take if off,” you plead between breaths, “Take it off, please…” 

Suguru listens, breaking apart from the kiss to toss his shirt to the side while you slip off your bra. Your lover’s hand finds your waist, his fingers pinching into the soft flesh. He leans forward to kiss the side of your neck, making a path down the curve and across the field of your décolletage. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs into your breast, his lips snagging your nipple as his tongue rolls over the bud.

Your fingers curl around the back of his head, loosening his bun as you untie the knot. His hair falls like waterfall, the strands tickling your bare skin. Suguru’s hand slips between your legs, his middle and forefinger meeting your clit. You hiss at the contact, sinking your teeth between your bottom lip when Suguru sucks on your breast while simultaneously drawing circles on the bundle of nerves between your legs. 

Your breath grows heavier, your hips bucking into him from the sensation of his touch. 

“Feels good,” you mumble, “feels so good with you…”   

He shivers, relieving your breast as his lips search for your own. 

He adds more pressure between your legs, increasing the speed while your tongues dance. When your thighs noticeably quiver he slows down, pinching your clit between his fingers as he softly pecks your cheek. 

“The condoms are in my room…” 

Your sharp nails scratch the back of his neck lightly, “I have one in my purse.” 

Suguru nods feverishly, reaching back to the coffee table and rummaging through your purse. He picks out the shiny wrapper, and stands up to take off his shorts. 

“Wait, can I?” You request, gazing up at him with glittering eyes. 

Suguru swallows hard, and nods his head. 

Your eyes dilate rolling his shorts down, focusing on the tent in the fabric and watching his cock spring free and lightly smack his lower belly. Suguru brings the condom to his lips and rips it open with his teeth, but his eyes flutter when your perfectly manicured hands glide up the length of his shaft. 

You trace the prominent vein, your thumb swiping over the pre-cum beading over  the angry tip. You lick your lips, leaning closer to kiss the base and listening to Suguru sigh. 

You’ve only given him a blow job once before, and that was because you asked if you could. Suguru sets no expectations for himself when it comes to work, but that doesn’t mean that you haven’t fantasized about giving him head countless times. 

You wrap your fingers around his length and stroke mildly, your lips fanning over  his cock before reaching the tip. 

“Sweetheart, don’t-” Suguru murmurs in an attempt to stop you, but you’re already enclosing your lips around the head and pressing your tongue over the slit. 

His head falls back as you suck, a curse leaving him. 

You move slowly at first, dragging your tongue back and forth as you stroke the base. Sukuna was far rougher with you when you went down on him, but Suguru is allowing you to take him at your own pace. Inch by inch, until you were bobbing your head back and forth, strings of saliva webbing off his cock and sticking your lips. 

He thrusts once, not rough enough to hurt but the jerk catches you by surprise. 

You carefully release him, mindlessly wiping your bottom lip and the sight makes his cock twitch. 

Suguru pulls the condom out, and rolls it over his shaft. 

He settles onto the empty seta by your side, and you crawl over the expanse of his gorgeous, chiseled body to kiss him once again. 

His circles his fingers around his cock, his other hand guiding your hip as he aligns the tip to your entrance. Your nail nicks his pec when he pushes against the hole, your mouth circling over his own as you lower down his shaft. 

He fills you up so, so good. Makes your body vibrate with unshakeable desire. 

He groans until he bottoms out , the hand on your hip dipping down from your pubis to your lower belly like he’s trying to outline how deep he actually is before returning it back in place and securing his other hand on the opposite hip. 

Your breasts flatten against his chest, your hands holding on to his strong shoulders for support as you roll our hips.

Suguru works in tandem with your rhythm to fuck you passionately. 

His lips find yours once again for a final kiss, before the two of you get caught up in the moment when he swiftly picks up the pace. 

His hips arch violently, while yours sink - your bodies moving silk. 

“Unghh, oh god, yes-yes-yes~” you moan. 

Suguru’s grip almost feels painful, you know for a fact that he’ll be marking your hips with a few bruises. “Gonna cum-” he rasps, “s-shit, I’m fucking close-fucking close-” 

Your pussy tightens, practically holds his dick in a death grip that makes release a broken moan. His cock contracts upon his release, the sensation bringing you to the edge of yours as the muscles in your lower belly and inner thighs spasm around him. You leave crescents on his skin, your bodies shaking as you both take a second to breathe coming down from your climax. 

You collapse into him, his arms circling behind you, with his racing heart pulsing into your own. He moves so you’re laying side by side, your body sandwiched between him and the couch since he takes up most of the room. You rest your cheek against his shoulder, feeling him grow soft inside you.

Your stuttering breath finally finds a resting poin when he brings your hand and holds it against his heart. 

“Where do we go from here?” You whisper with a kiss to his neck. 

“Whatever you decide, we’ll figure out.” Suguru answers sincerely. 

“I can’t marry Naoya,” you admit out loud, shocked for actually saying it for the very first time. “And I can't share you with anyone else - it already kills me having to do so.” 

Suguru looks down at you, a reassuring smile resting on his lips. “There won’t be anyone else.” 

“I can't just...leave. I can't just drop everything and walking away. It isn’t going to be easy-” you add on, “It’ll take me some time.” 

“I can wait” 

“It might get messy…” 

“When is it ever not?” 

“But we’ve never been in a relationship-” you insist, logic breaking through the barrier of your happiness. “How do we know if this will even work out properly? What if this thing between us fades?” 

“I guess we’re both taking a gamble here…” 

You both stare into the other’s eyes. 

“Do you think it’s worth the risk?” You ask. 

Suguru’s face softens but he leans forward to kiss your forehead. 

“I think it’s worth a try.” 

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

TWO YEARS LATER

“You running out on Naoya on your wedding night is still the hot topic.” Kento explains over the phone, “People kept bringing it up, and for whatever reason they just can't seem to get over it.” 

The guilt in your stomach twists into a very small knot, over time the size of it has shrunk to a point where you not longer carry any remorse regarding your scheming behavior. 

You had a plan, and the plan worked. 

"Let's not forget who was there to help..." you contend, disregarding the negativity surrounding your decision.

After you and Suguru spoke, you decided to carry on the facade, agreeing to the engagement and soon after the wedding with Naoya Zen'in. All the while you and Suguru were busy planning your way to cut and run. He cashed in your unsigned checks, and you pilfered a decent amount of the wedding budget which you kept into a seperate savings account.

You played the role as obedient daughter well, and no one was the wiser. 

“Besides, I maintain that it's still the best decision I ever made,” you reply, stepping out of your room and into the kitchen where you are greeted by the sound of clinking dishes.  

Your eyes shift to Suguru - his hair far longer now, flowing beautifully down his back, the front layers tied into a small bun. You smell dinner in the air, and your stomach grumbles with anticipation. 

Nanami doesn't reply, but you can hear that he's distracted from the television in the background. 

“What are you watching?” you ask your friend. 

The man simply sighs. 

“Nothing.” 

“Doesn’t sound like nothing with that reaction. Is it Satoru’s new drama show?” 

At the mention of his best friend you notice your lover glance over his shoulder, quietly tilting his head to direct you towards him. You smile his way, your feet pattering against the hardwood floor as you move closer to him. He bundles one arm around your shoulder, keeping you close while continuing to sauté the vegetables in the pan. 

He kisses the top of your head. 

“It’s all the rage,” you add on to your phone call, “Suguru and I plan on watching the next episode tonight.” 

Kento remains quiet. 

You release yourself from Suguru’s grasp, and instead hop onto the kitchen counter right next to him.

He reduces the heat and picks up the lid before covering the pan. 

“I’m guessing you two haven’t-” 

“No,” Kento curtly replies. “Not since that night…” 

“I’m sorry” 

“Don’t be,” he responds with frustration. “I screwed it up” 

“You know I could just ask Sugu too reach out-” 

“ Don’t,” Kento sighs regrettably. “It doesn’t matter. I heard he’s moved on” 

You quirk your brow, your eyes shifting to Suguru who was back to chopping some fresh herbs. 

“Oh?” 

“It’s for the best I guess,” Kento reassures. “He should be happy with whoever-the-fuck he chooses.” 

“You deserve happiness too, Kento.” 

“You can be happy for the both of us,” he replies, gulping down a drink. “Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’m meeting my lawyer for dinner.” 

“When are you going to visit us next?” 

“Probably around November, December. I just need a few things to ease up on my end-” 

You bite your bottom lip, “I look forward to it.” 

“Take care, love” 

“You too, Ken.” 

You hang up the phone and lean your head against the cupboard as you watch Suguru rinse his hand, a trail of crimson spiraling down the faucet.  

“I cut my finger” 

You pick up a clean towel by your side, and gesture him towards you. 

Suguru extends his thumb out, and you curl the fabric over to keep pressure on the small cut. 

“You ought to be careful” 

“Your legs are a distraction,” 

You stare up at him playfully, and he leans down to kiss the corner of your lips. 

“How’s Nanami?” 

Your lover is indebted to your friend. If it wasn’t for Nanami, the two of you wouldn’t have been able to set up this comfortably. He’s the one who found you the humble two-story abode in Hokkaido, and was also the person who set up your personal bank accounts while ensuring that you would both have a safe and quick getaway on the night of your almost-wedding. 

“Fine, I think-” you reply, before removing the towel to check the damage. Thankfully, it wasn't anything serious. A little deeper than a paper cut.“Licking his wounds over a broken heart, but fine.” 

Suguru reaches for the drawer next to you, and pulls out the emergency band aids. You reach for the box in his hand, taking out one and removing the plaster from the back. You secure it around his cut, and Suguru holds your fingers between his. 

He arches down to kiss your brow. “Thank you, sweetheart.” 

“You’re welcome, handsome” 

“Dinner will be ready in a few if you want to set the table” 

You nod your head in acknowledgement, and drop down onto the ground before proceeding with your task.

You set the place mats down, a bowl for the soup and another for the rice and cooked vegetables. Your finger traces the rim of the one in front of your seat, a tiny chip from when you accidentally dropped it in the sink while cleaning it a few weeks ago. 

Fragments of these blemishes are all around you - making you almost forget that you once lived in a perfect, curated bubble. But you would take these flaws over everything else. These markings may be worn, but they are a reminder of the home you've been building.

A home that is entirely yours. 

“Baby, you want a drink?” Suguru calls from the kitchen. 

“Melon soda, please” you reply, placing the bowl down. 

“We’re out, I’ve got to pick some up tomorrow.” 

“What are you having?” 

“A beer,” he chuckles, and it sends a tremor of joy between the valves of your heart. 

“I’ll share yours” 

Suguru pulls out the bottle, cracking the cap off as he pops it using the side of the kitchen counter to do so. 

You two meet each other halfway in the space that you've been nesting in. Suguru’s eyes never leave yours when he takes the first sip, and once done he passes the chilled bottle towards you.

“Am I ever going to have you back in the kitchen helping me with dinner?” 

You shake your head no, and bite at the lip of the bottle before taking a sip. “I thought we agreed I was a hazard after the raw chicken fiasco and the almost-fire debacle…” 

He laughs, “no, you agreed. I said it wasn’t a big deal” 

“You just said that because you love me,” you respond, pressing the bottle into his chest as he takes it from your hand. 

“That goes without saying…” he answers, slinging his arm around your waist and pulling you into his frame. 

You lift yourself up on your toes, and kiss his nose. 

“Do you think it’s worth the risk of me attempting to cook for you again?” You whisper against his lips. 

Suguru smiles, a hand cupping your cheek as he leans forward to seal his reply with a  kiss. 

“I think it’s worth the try” 

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

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