A/N: I…guys this one is…dirty. For so many reasons. I don’t. I can’t look myself in the eye. Suguru made me do it 😅
C/W: Voyeurism, Mature themes, 18+ (Part I here)
Music inspo: This is SO Chase Atlantic coded
Acceptance.
They say the first step to recovery from addiction is acceptance.
Fine, then.
Suguru Geto’s addiction to you is absolute. And he has no interest in recovery.
He’s accepted it. You own him.
Granted, he didn’t realize just how tight your leash is. Not until last night.
Suguru is a logical, reasonable, creature of habit. He doesn’t need much. Really, he doesn’t.
But fucking you to sleep nightly is non-negotiable.
Or rather, fucking his hand. While watching you watch TV. And swirl a glass of Pinot noir in your gorgeous mouth. With your graceful fingers mindlessly swimming in a bowl of popcorn.
Extra butter. With tons and TONS of salt!
The first time you ordered your side snack at the movie theatre, Suguru almost keeled over.
But then he made the glorious mistake of flickering over to you, mid movie. Just as your index finger slid between those pillow soft lips. Pulling remnants of salt and butter away, leaving a trail of lip gloss behind.
He could’ve sucked it off your finger right there and then.
The way you pistoned in and out of your mouth. Doe-eyed and trained on the screen. Not a thought in your head. It was his gateway drug.
The butterfly effect.
A moment in time that rerouted fate.
His excruciatingly beautiful, platonic best friend, now a visceral need.
And just like any addiction. There were stages.
Denial: He doesn’t see you that way. No, of course not. His mind just got caught in a horny spiral. He’ll snap out of it. Things will go back to normal.
Anger: How could you do this to him? You know how disorienting you are. That smile. Always looking up at him with puppy eyes and parted lips. You’re a cocktease. Begging. Pleading. Needing him to debase you to nothing. Is that it? You want him to ruin you, don’t you? And he could. Fuck you into next week. Until you’re screaming and crying. He’d smear those tears all over his cock and fuck them back into your pouty mouth. It’s what you deserve.
Shame: It’s perverse. You call to vent about your day. He rubs himself raw while you talk. You kiss his cheek. His dick leaks. How could he do this to someone who trusts him like you do?
It was a vicious, muddled cycle. He could barely function around you.
Rushed greetings. Kurt words. Clipped responses. Avoidance.
He had to protect you from his depraved thoughts. Shield you from sordid actions taken in the dark — as if they would spontaneously materialize in the light to harm you.
And they did. But in the opposite way Suguru intended.
“Hey, HEY! Suguru, what the hell is up with you?”
You squeezed his wrist with all your might. It felt like nothing. But the weight in your tone hit him like a freight train.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been distant."
“I’ve been right here.”
“You’ve been distant, Suguru.”
Quartz showers streamed down your beautiful face and his cock quivered. Drooling along his thigh. So. Fucking. Pretty when you cry.
Did you know?
How irresistible you looked?
Glassy eyes. Trembling lips. Vulnerable. Soft enough to hunt.
Did you know?
How he clawed his palm bloody to keep from gripping your neck. Shoving you to your knees. And giving you a reason to whine his name like that again.
“Why won’t you just talk to me?”
“I have to go—“
“I don’t care!”
“Wha—“
“I don’t care!! I don’t care what it is okay? I just…I miss..I miss my best friend.”
You elevated off your heels. No where near eye level, but enough to cradle his face in your dainty hands.
And God dammit. He might as well have been wearing a dog tag with your name on it.
If lost, return to Owner.
Between your misty eyes. Swollen lips. Face like a canvas to paint with his cum. He bit back a pathetic groan. And choked out an apology.
Most importantly, he made a promise to never hollow out your friendship like that again.
So, instead he fills it. With ropes of his arousal. And fuck, it’s rhapsody.
The stages. The anger, disbelief, shame…it was worth it. Because this ecstasy? It’s sublime.
Constant ascension. Never once reaching cruising altitude.
…which made the fall agonizing.
Last night, in a sick, twisted turn of fate - his camera feed cut off.
One minute Suguru is pumping into his abused rubber cocksleeve. Sliding his eyes up and down your hips until he was dizzy in the head. Pre cum squelching out of the little space between his cock and the ring of his 5th battered toy. Unintelligible praises leaking out of him, cementing his devotion. And just as the curtains began to fall on his vision. Balls heavy and hot with his seed—
Then he saw nothing.
Suguru couldn’t recognize the man in his room last night. Fingers aching. Mind racing. Dick red, angry, pulsating for its one and only vice.
Alarm bells rang between his ears. Crash landing into an abyss. Mayday.
Mayday.
In that moment. He knew he needed more. More skin. More angles. More you.
And so, he’s standing outside your Pilates studio @ 7:28 PM. Two minutes until you’re done.
A Dragonfruit smoothie rests in his hand.
And a new camera system rests in his back pocket.
———
“Ugh, I needed that.”
You sling a cold eucalyptus towel around your neck.
“And I need him.” The comment emanates from one of your girlfriends. Both of you rounding the corner out of the studio.
Suguru.
You don’t have to look out the glass windows to know exactly who she is referring to.
“I mean, seriously. How can you not climb him like a—“
“Stop it!!” Your protest made less believable because of your sheepish giggles.
“We’re just friends.” You mutter. Pulling your gym bag out of the front lockers.
Yeah, who are you trying to convince? Her? Or yourself?
Your eyes flicker to your platonic, gorgeous best friend. Raven mane in a glossy, high ponytail. Freely cascading down his back. Curly wisps framing his razor sharp angles.
He stands tall. So Muscular. Quietly masculine. Despite how dreamy his hair is.
“Omg! Your hair!! Whats your routine?” - every woman who meets him, ever.
“Genetics.”
Suguru responds the same way every time with a dimpled smile. The other party is always immediately caught in his web.
His eyes. They lure you in like quicksand. Onyx. Swarming with grey and violet specks. Stormy. Perpetually faraway.
He’s the perfect gentleman. But always a little bit above it all. Just out of reach.
It’s mesmerizing.
You can’t blame the women for trying any and everything for a tiny piece.
Suguru catches your gaze. Silky smile pulls across his lips. He beckons you with one swirl of the liquid gold in his hands.
“What are you doing here, pretty boy?”
“Happy to see you too.” He counters with a low chuckle.
You coax the sweet treat away from him. It’s precisely what you need.
Suguru always has his pulse on you. Somehow he knows where to be and when. Every time.
“Mmm” your eyes flutter shut. Savoring the sickly sweet, cold mush on your tongue.
“Exactly what you wanted?”
“Exactly. Have I told you I love you lately?”
“Not nearly enough.” His baritone hovers over you. Traveling down your spine at light speed.
Has he always sounded this sultry?
You lazily pull yourself out of the sugar-induced dopamine hit.
Suguru moves into you like a storm cloud. Accentuating the comical difference in stature. The world around you slowly dissipates.
Lost in the desert mirage of his gaze. Everything feels conscious.
Your shallow breathing. The thrum of blood surging through your vessels. Heart rattling against its bony cage.
Time stops.
Then it happens all at once.
Before you know what is happening, your best friend’s well built arm is around your waist. His large, veiny hand palming the nape of your neck.
His lips. His plump rosy lips are on yours. Sweet and warm. Pulling, pushing, melding with you into play dough.
He’s delicious.
More delectable than you knew possible.
“Mmmgh” You moan and Suguru takes the space to push his tongue into your mouth. He’s blinding. Expertly tickling the ridges and corners of your mouth. As if to show off just how skilled he is with his tongue.
“S-Suguru..”
He pulls away far before you’re ready. Shocking you out of your lusty daze. For a moment he just rests his moist lips on yours. Exchanging breaths between each other. As if only you two are the source of oxygen around you.
“Wha…what was..”
“There’s a guy burning a crater into your back.” He finally responds. Gruff. Strained. You’ve never seen him without a tight leash around his self-command.
“I didn’t want him thinking he has a chance.”
And just like that, the familiar tame control lines his velvet baritone.
Suguru places a chaste kiss on your cheek before starting to walk in the direction of your apartment. As if the world didn’t just tilt on its axis.
You’re able to maintain a fairly normal conversation with your best friend the entire walk back to your apartment. You both laugh and joke as if he didn’t just fuck your mouth with his tongue. And as if you didn’t feel drunk off of it.
You’re just friends.
…right?
You toss your keys somewhere to your left. In the periphery you see Suguru smile and shake his head. Well aware of your messy tendencies. He leans down to take your keys and place them on the door hook.
The devil on your shoulder is deafening.
Test it.
Test him.
Your hand moves before your mind.
Your fingers hook under your sports bra. Pulling it over your head in one smooth motion. Before your mounds bounce in full view, your arm cups them against your chest.
You turn to Suguru, now topless.
“Gonna hop in the shower for a little. Are you staying for dinner?” Willing your voice to be steady and light. A casual question amidst the mayhem in your mind.
And, as expected, Suguru is the perfect gentleman.
His olive tone is even. Hands slotting into his athletic pants. Faint smile tracing on his lips, dimple apparent in his left cheek.
His eyes don’t falter below your neckline. Not even for a moment.
“Not tonight, pretty. There’s a show I want to catch. Rain check?”
Of course, you’re just friends.
Best friends.
You flash him a genuine smile. Swallowing the nagging flecks of dissappointnent beginning to weave itself within you.
“Rain check!”
And maybe 10 or so minutes after soaking in your steamy shower. Trying to wash the remnants of his kiss out of your memory, you hear your door slamming shut.
You make a mental note to ask about what show he was referring to.
———
Whiskey glides hot and cold down Suguru’s throat.
Back flushed against his desk chair.
Patiently awaiting his 10:00 PM viewing.
His dick is a steel rod. Blushing and moist. Draped in a pair of your used panties. He swiped them on his way out of your apartment.
Suguru drags his palm lazily up and down his shaft. Soaking your lingerie in beads of pre cum. It’s like he’s feeling you rubbing your plush cunt up and down his rod.
Fog is settling opaque in his mind. While he pets the flame stirring between his legs.
You haven’t even come into frame yet. But Suguru admires the pristine view he has of your room. Porcelain duvet messily strewn about. Half open night stand. Magenta vibrator propped against the corner of your drawer.
How often do you touch yourself?
What do you think about?
How pretty do you sound? When you milk pleasure from your dewy core?
“Fuck,” Suguru hisses.
He brings the whiskey glass back to his parted lips. The thought of seeing you work yourself to a peak drove his hand up and down his cock too fast. If he’s not careful he’ll cum before he’s ready.
No.
Not tonight.
Tonight he wants to savor his relapse.
24 hours sober of you was unbearable. He deserves this indulgence.
Suguru tilts his chin up. Damp hair feathering his shoulders and back feels refreshingly cool against the lava circulating beneath his skin.
“You like teasing me don’t you?” He murmurs, slowly pumping his cock through his strained grip.
The way you pulled off your sports bra. Well before you reached your bathroom door. Pretty bedroom eyes raking his face. Testing him. You knew he would go home and feverishly fuck his fist for you. Didn’t you?
A siren’s melody pulls his hazy, dazed attention back to screen.
“There she is.”
Suguru leans closer to his screens. Giving himself kudos for choosing a camera system with audiovisual integration this time around.
You step in full view of his camera and his body stills. Completely statuesque. Mouth ajar. His cock drool dribbling down his stiff hand is the only source of movement in the room.
“Fuck…fucking hell.”
There you stood. Thong as richly colored as the wine in your glass. Accentuating the dramatic dip and swell of your pretty waist and hips. The wavy lines from your slender shoulders to your full tits are enough to make him seasick. Your nipples are so hard. Puffier than he imagined.
You are immaculate.
A divine being. Heaven’s incarnate.
And even if you weren’t. Even if you were the devil. He’d follow you to the depth of hell.
A thick surge of pre cum flicking back against his lower abs pulls him briefly out of his trance. Suguru didn’t realize how hard he was strangling his length. Which is violently jerking in haphazard directions.
Begging for its real owner.
Suguru drags in a deep breath. Reluctantly unraveling his needy hand away from his manhood. Another sip of icy brown liquor.
Savor this.
As if your souls are tied, you take a sip of red wine before settling in your bed. Back against your head board. Feet planted on your plush duvet. You let your knees fall to the side and Suguru nearly drools on himself.
A blooming rose.
Presenting your swollen, misty petals to him for worship. His eyes drop to your core. A thin line of fabric laid so perfectly between your folds.
Suguru has to remind himself that you aren’t in front of him.
And he can’t just dive into your dewy cunt. And nuzzle against your bud. And lap up the honey in between your folds.
You rest your head against the wall. Exposing the delicate lines of your neck. His left hand magnets back to his cock. His right hits the record function on the screen.
You are too special not to capture.
But, even if he couldn’t record you on this system, every moment right now is etched into his mind for an eternity.
Especially the way your dainty fingers travel down your chest, along your torso, beneath the hem of your panties and settle over your clit.
“That’s it, princess.” Suguru chants beneath his clipped breaths. Dragging your soaked underwear along his messy shaft.
He matches his pace to your tiny circles. Small, gorgeous pants tumble out of you.
Your other hand palms at your tits. Pinching and pulling at your pert nipples. Your hips buck at the sweet pleasure and pain.
“Good girl”
His arousal continues to collect at his base, trickling to his inner thighs. The sound of his hilt slamming into his hand fill the room.
“God. S..Suguru…”
His name thunders between his ears.
His name wrapped in that melodic, lusty falsetto of yours.
Suguru’s brain can barely register the way your tits bounce in rhythm with your hands. Pistoning your fingers in and out of your sweet cunt. Ascending to euphoria. He can barely register the way your lips are swollen and abused from your teeth. Or the light sheen of sweat along your collarbones.
“Fuck, Suguru please..” you moan. Both hands now working your flower.
Suguru is slack jawed. Completely short circuited. He cannot move.
Unblinking, he studies you. Hands at his side. Cock spearing high in the air, leaking.
His mind is flooded with the thin, featherlight moans and whines. Sticky arousal leaks from your needy opening around your fingers. Coating your inner thighs. How you twist and groan away from your own pleasure - so clearly overstimulated but not stopping your fingers, anyway.
“Say my name, pretty girl. Say my name.” Suguru rasps out. Sharp pain lightening through him from the dryness in his throat.
And you do. You moan his name when you reach nirvana. Heaving and whining and squirming in your mess. You called for him.
“God, I’m disgusting.”
You laugh through the remnants of your high and bury yourself under the duvet. Lazily tapping the bedside lamp. Bringing Suguru’s private viewing to an end.
And his smile is vulturous.
Suguru’s hand runs the length of his insatiable cock. Slow, lazy strokes. Haphazard twitches pushing out globs of cum. Begging for an encore.
You think you’re disgusting?
Ohhh, sweet girl.
You don’t know the half of it.
| Megumi x reader
Hiding tonight
Your massive crush on Megumi Fushiguro is interfering with Maki's plan to win the exchange event.
Don’t sit down ‘cause I moved your chair
Expect the unexpected; Kugisaki and Panda are on a mission to get Megumi and you together. The two times, Nobara and Panda set you two up, and the one time they didn't need to do it.
Glass in the park
"Who needs sleep when you're with your crush, watching reaction videos to bad movies?"
Stuck in the puzzle
There's something about your magnetism that makes Fushiguro Megumi weak at the knees, compelling him to give you all of himself, even if it means exposing his most vulnerable side.
Piledriver Waltz
Brick by Brick
She’s thunderstorms.
Black treacle
The hellcat spangled Shalalala.
Library pictures
All my own stunts
Reckless serenade
Love is a Laserquest
Suck it and see.
That’s where you’re wrong.
Extras
Love language
can also be found under the suck it and see series tag
hello! can i pls request for breeding session w olderbf!gojo and youngergf!reader? like gojo is in his 30s and reader is around 19+..
also like the reader is so innocent and gojo's jist a pervy old man who wants to ruin reader's pussy and make her his good little toy
thankyou!!ᕙ( • ‿ • )ᕗ
my requests aren’t open but i’ll make an exception because this is a good request, thank you by the way! hope you enjoy it ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
the perverted boyfriend
୨୧⋆。˚gojo satoru {32} x f!reader {19}
✶ mature content | mdni ! breeding, age gap, pet names, corruption kink, dacryphilia, cum play, barebacking, creampie, strong language.
taglist | masterlist
it’s taboo, but it’s your reality now.
you have a boyfriend who’s like a decade older. there was no true explanation for how you both even got together, specially because gojo satoru’s personality is quite eccentric, and he always looked like the type not to settle, so you becoming his young girlfriend was probably a weird, but also good thing.
you’ve only had a few intimate moments ever since you started dating a year ago — met at 18, dating a little before 19, now a few months from 20. gojo’s always made love to you, gone slow, used a condom, one round only, cuddles and after care, sweet kisses and no dirty talking (very contradictory), so that behavior was truly something unexpected, but you didn’t know his true colors. . . that’s because he knows how innocent you are. he knew that just by when you didn’t know what an orgasm felt like, and for having a pussy so tight, and soaking wet from only a few kisses and hugging your waist.
gojo’s not like this, he is just prepping you, because he’s a pervert.
he wants to ruin every single inch of chastity there’s still left in you, he always did. for him, he thinks you’re a little virgin. the explanation? because you haven’t sucked his cock yet, nor let him fuck you raw — after that, he’ll take you as his little personal toy, and no longer his pure princess.
little did you know how bad this man will ruin you.
gojo’s always the one who starts with the mood, he’s always the one looking for something, and he always gets it because he knows deep down that you’re a little whore at heart. by the way he holds you in his arms, kisses your cheeks, kisses the corner of your lips and moves on to making out so endearingly and careful is why he always, always, gets what he wants, he’s just being patient.
right now, he’s pursuing you again, but this time he’s got other plans.
why? gojo satoru’s been away for work for half a month now, and it’s made him wonder if you even tried touching yourself.
you innocently greet him at the door of your apartment, jumping onto him as he latches his bag onto the floor and hugs you back, his scent still there so strongly and he thinks the same about yours on your smooth skin. gojo knows you’ve worked extra hard on your appearance tonight, cute flowery thin silk dress, and you never wear this cologne he’s bought you, because you thought it was too sensual . . . and he takes notice of that. once he puts you on the floor, he admires your pretty face beaming at him with chuckles, looking up at him adorably as your height and size differences give you that gap.
“i missed you.” you giggle endlessly, holding onto his hands and swinging side to side, cheeks flushed. that brings him a smug smirk on his face that turns into a full gorgeous grin on his handsome face.
“i know you did, baby, i missed you too.” he replies softly, and his eyes take a peek at the round cleavage of that sundress you’re wearing, and his cock is already hard through his pants. why’d it have to be spring? “i’m gonna take a shower, wait for me?” he asks, tilting his head to the side slightly, luring you into his trap perfectly, with that honeyed voice and a caress on your head, restraining himself from jumping into you. your eyes gleam and nod as he leaves you with a small chuckle and goes on to the bathroom. your hands hold your cheeks to find them warm from blushing when he’s not looking.
you lie down in the bed, on your belly, ass up, sundress cleavage showing your tits, and on your phone until gojo walks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, drying his hair with another smaller fabric. he walks towards you like this, something he’s never done before, and he stands in front of your face, making you look up and gulp down hard once you notice him like this.
“a-are you done? uh, wanna eat something?” you ask gently, blushing and seating upright on your knees. he throws the towel from his hair on the chair and reaches for your hand.
“hm, i do actually.” he replies pulling you by the wrist closer carefully, and he’s looking down on you with a soft almost predatory expression.
“i can make something, or order if you’d—
“baby,” he interrupts you, and you hum back slowly and shyly, doe eyes at him. “can i be rougher with you today?” and once he asks that, it takes you a few seconds to think. he notices the exact instant you understand what he meant, because your pupils dilate, your breath hitches and your cheeks flush darker, again.
“u-uh, d-do you, uh, do you mean like . . .” you stutter, becoming a mess just by his words.
“yeah, princess, like that.” gojo chuckles at your response, leaning down and kissing the right corner of your lips. “i’ve been dying to fuck you, you know.” once he says that with a whisper, your pussy clenches unconsciously, and you hum, closing your eyes and grabbing onto his wrist as his thumb’s pressing down against the skin on your inner thigh. “is that a yes?” you breathe out heavily, receiving his kisses on your face and jawline. “i’m not gonna hurt you, you know that.” he adds, his fingertips brushing their way inside your thin fabric dress covering your upper thighs, and this feeling burns.
“okay.” you moan out lowly and vulnerably — because you didn’t know exactly what he was thinking of, what that really meant, and you were curious — and his cock’s harder than ever once he looks at you with eyes still closed just taking in his pecks onto your skin, biting down your lower lip trembling. gojo’s making out with you, and he’s being aggressive.
he’s missed your glossy lips — imagining how your virgin mouth would feel around his cock — he’s missed your small soft innocent hands — imagining how they’d wrap around his dick — he’s missed your soft pussy — imagining how it’d feel to fuck it raw until you pass out.
you were already soaking wet, but with the simple touch of his index finger over your nipple you’re almost cumming. gojo notices your frail breathing against him as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth, other hand messing with your clit, pinching and rubbing under the hood as your thighs squish together.
it all happened so fast and intensely that you’re laid down in princess pillow position with legs spread by his hand as gojo pumps his cock with the other, gathering slick and making a mess in your folds as he rubs the tip against you. you think it’s dirty, and it’s all unknown, but you’re liking it, you just don’t know how much.
“‘toru,” you moan his name lowly, gripping onto the sheets and pillow under your head anxiously. he looks at you with his cheeks red and panting, he’s on the edge, he’s dying to fuck you, he’s dizzy and needy, and that look he gives you could again make you cum. “the condom.” once you say that, one side of his lips curve into a devious smirk, and he’s been waiting for you to ask for that.
“can’t i do it raw tonight, baby?” oh. your body responds to him, and you’re blushing harder and harder and you don’t know what you’re feeling. “you said i could be rough, remember? it’s gonna feel really good, i promise, so good.” he promotes, caressing your thigh as he rubs the pre-cum covered tip against your clit now. “can i make you feel good, my princess?” you let out a breath and look away. “f-fine,” you gather the courage to look back at his eyes. “i-if it’s gonna make you feel good too.” aw, that’s so innocent.
you shouldn’t have said that.
because now, he’s bullying your cunt over and over again, he’s got your knuckles turning white from gripping onto the sheets, a stiff neck from throwing it back against the pillow and sore legs from the weight he’s putting over you as gojo pushes you into a mate press. he’s going so deep, deeper than ever, he’s going so rough, rougher than ever, he’s being so loud, louder than ever, he’s being so dirty, dirtier than ever. the wrap and clenching around his cock is incessant and he’s dying over there, blabbering all sorts of dirty stuff to your chaste ears, and you’re becoming a mush under him, brainwashed. your hand uselessly trying to push his piston hips away as tears begin to stream your face, it’s too much and it’s too good for you.
“o-oh, fuck, fuck, baby,” gojo groans looking at your state. “you like it, don’t you, princess?” he’s been going on and on talking and asking the filthiest things for the past minutes — and you’ve came twice in such a short amount of time, he knows you did, you don’t — and you’re going insane from the tip of his dick kissing your cervix and the sloppy pace he’s set. you’re unable to answer but whine and moan dirtier than you’ve ever done, and you’re still restraining yourself, unable to even look at him from embarrassment. he leans down to keep fucking into you deeper while folding you in half at the same time. gojo frees one of his hands and pulls your chin to stare at him, and the way your eyebrows knit and the tears stream down your pretty cheeks turn him on tremendously. “talk to me, baby.” he whispers, groaning as he slows down and focus on pounding hardly.
“f-feels weird, ‘t-toru.” you moan out shakingly, trying to open your eyes but they threaten to keep closing due to the immense pleasure, and gojo tilts his hips up slightly and one more thrust hits a spot that you yell out, your toes curl and eyes roll to the back of your head.
“you’re being so dirty, baby.” he smirks, knowing he’s found your g-spot again, but in a better angle. gojo’s been trying to only please you with your clit the last times you’ve had sex, because he knew you weren’t going to be able to endure him using this one spot against you. “just let it go, ‘kay? it’ll feel so good, i promise.” and you look at him, breathing heavily as he continues to bully that spongy spot, your mouth turning into an open circle as you fail to breathe. gojo picks up the pace suddenly as he grabs both your legs again, he’s close, he’s so fucking close.
“i’m gonna cum in you, okay?” his words don’t even process into your head, as you want to kiss him, pulling gojo by the shoulders and neck, yet he doesn’t give in to you yet. “look at me and answer.” he’s demanding, and you’re aroused by that, your dizzy eyes look up at him. “i’m gonna fuck my cum in you,“ he’s talking so dirty it feels wrong, but your panting is only feeding him. “wanna be pregnant with my cum, baby?” your eyebrows furrow and you moan at the thought, it was an unconscious reaction, yet gojo now knew that you were done for as you squirted against his cock, failing to mute your moans as you bit your lip, and it was an intense orgasm. “i do.” you whine in the middle, and gojo has to throw his head back and chuckle at you, he’s got hearts in his eyes.
that alone makes him groan and cum inside you with another pound, and at this point, with how much you’re clenching him, you’re milking gojo dry quite literally. gojo thrusts without pulling out, he wants it all the way inside your cervix. “shouldn’t have said that, baby.” he whispers as his eyes latch down onto where you both connect.
you shouldn’t, you really really shouldn’t.
“ngh… fuc—fuck, you like my cum, don’t you, pretty girl?”, “knew you wanted me to cum in you, princess.”, “you’re such a dirty cumslut.”, “i’m gonna cum again, this time you’ll get pregnant, for sure, i swear.” you shouldn’t have said that because now gojo’s in the third round, and your pussy’s burning, destroyed and stretched out, filled with cum and it’s like your belly’s expanding at how much he’s came inside you, going in for another and more.
gojo knew he was a pervert, and he knew he was going to make a mess out of you, make you his little pretty innocent toy.
“holy fuck, princess, it’s all into your womb now, i’m sure!”
(ft. megumi, toge, yuji, & yuta)
note: I was also going to do their confessions but it would’ve been too long lmao. I’d have to do them separately kinda like the aki series or bf texts.
warnings: none, maybe some cursing, fluff, crack, f!reader
– megumi
– toge
– yuta
– yuji
❝ we in love & started dating at your art school..
..cause either way we both lyin' more than half of the time..
..except for when I'm home workin' on your graphic design ❞
Megumi Fushiguro x Reader
🪡SUMMARY
You’re a fashion student in your first year of college, beginning the end of 2nd semester project, which just so happens to be designing a collection of 3 outfits to be modeled at a fashion show in late May. Your classes host model auditions for designers like you to go pick your models. While everyone is able to write down a max of 20 people, there’s one boy that catches your eye you hope ends up in your final 3.
⍟ JJK college au ⍟ art students au ⍟ no curse au
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✍️ your designs
📋 your model rating list
(these 2 are optional for more visuals, if u have ur own ideas pls feel free to ignore)
┌──── “ group chats 💬 „
👥 Fashion Famous 🧑🎨🧵
👥 Film GC 📽️
👥 day 1’s
👥 y/n’s fan club
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black is the color of my true love's hair by dollsuguru
blurb by twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat
drowning man by magewritesstories
first love / late spring by mayariviolet
ghost of you by mononijkayu
going crazy by coconutdays
in bloom by tender-rosiey
meet cute by teddybeartoji
spiraling by stsgluver
the choiceless grief that drove him underground by dollsuguru
yours, indefinitely by chuluoyi
"there could be two beds and they will still only one bed trope their way into your heart somehow" exactly! gojo doesn't know what personal space means at aaaaaaall
satoru wouldn’t know the definition of personal space if it smacked him in the forehead, he needs to be close all the time always.
the “actually, there are two beds” trope with him is so funny esp in a f2l setting because for every night of your trip, he finds some excuse to be in your bed instead of his. actually, he would give up rooming by himself on a group trip if it meant he got to share a room with you, because he’d find a way to share a bed with you.
the first night, he dumps his entire suitcase on his bed, then showers, and you’re asleep by the time he comes back. and now he’s clean and moisturized and he wants to go to bed and oh no! all his stuff is still on his bed! guess he’ll have to share with you for tonight 😇
the second and third nights he fakes having a nightmare to crawl into your embrace, and then feeling sick so you’ll coddle him to sleep.
the fourth night, he showers first and falls asleep on your bed instead of his. you’re the respectful one who takes his bed instead, but ofc he wakes up once you’ve fallen asleep to slide in next to you, and when you groggy and confused he just hushes you back to sleep with a cheeky, “you were in my bed, don’t worry about it.”
the fifth night, he turns the AC all the way up and says you “looked cold” so he “came to cuddle you” while you were asleep.
he could find an excuse for every single night as long as you share a room together, but the moment you invite him in, ask him, “satoru, do you wanna share?” his brain short circuits and his face goes all red and you offering does bad bad bad things to him and now he actually has to sleep in his own bed because this is gonna keep him up all night
rawr
😼 just had a salmonella scare… but it’s okay chat im okay…. 🫣 i’ll be home in the states in a week…. coming to a close on #indisepicjapanadventure🇯🇵🗾💘😛😘💋
Tattooed Suguru save me~ ✨️
… guess who got into grad school… #indidid
my absence was due to my GRAD SCHOOL GRIND 😤😤😮💨😮💨
and now i’m literally going to japan for a month lmao whoopsies 😄👍🏼
So tell us how the first kiss goes between y/n and suguru in rich! boyverse 🙏🏼
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。IF ONLY — GETO SUGURU. (rich boy! au)
based on this — disclaimer: this is a side au! to rb! gojo but it’s not rly part of the “story.” it’s just for fun and builds off the au, but you may disregard it !!
contents. college! au, rich boy! gojo + geto, reader is dating gojo, cheating (reader on gojo w geto), mutual pining, a make out kiss ; notes. uh….it’s here guys. the first installment of mr. geto “steal your girl” suguru. we have sinned the ultimate sin 🚶🏽♀️ rip satoru my babie </3
dating satoru should be enough—it was enough. but then suguru came along, and, well….suguru is magnetic.
his voice is that deep husk that sends shivers down your spine, his hair is long and frames his face so flawlessly, and when you catch a glimpse of his skin when his shirt rides up, you can’t help but think about the way he’s so defined. sharp, like he’s cut from stone, suguru is sculpted perfectly. satoru is everything you could have asked for….but suguru? he’s like a dream you didn’t think was a reality.
“hey,” he greets you sweetly as he opens his door, “you’re early. satoru hasn’t even left his house yet.”
early—you’re not early. you’re desperate. desperate to catch suguru alone. desperate to enjoy his company without feeling bad. desperate to stare at him while satoru isn’t there to notice. you didn’t come early by accident—you chose to be here before satoru.
“hi,” you grin, “you wound me suguru. don’t you wanna spend time with me?”
“i didn’t say that,” he chuckles, flicking your forehead affectionately.
suguru has always done that, he’s always been good at touching you in that casual way that’s so endearing and so dizzying—but it never crosses the line. his fingers tap against your forehead when he’s playful, and his hand steadies you on the elbow when you trip, and sometimes, he even hugs you with a squeeze that’s nothing more than friendly even though it makes your heart stop.
suguru is so alluring—and even when you have everything you need with satoru, you can’t help but want what you can’t have.
“i hope you got snacks because i require them,” you hum, sitting on island of his kitchen and swinging your legs back and forth.
“i did,” he snorts, “i got your favorite—”
he stops when he looks at you, has to pause and stare as you’re sat so casually in his home, looking so sweet and innocent and so, so pretty. you’ve always been pretty—you don’t even know it, how perfect you are. it makes you that much more desirable, makes him want to tell you every day until you believe him that you’re so god damn pretty.
and then he has to look away, has to ignore those thoughts that pop in his head about how it almost looks like you’re his, sat in his kitchen and asking for his snacks and smiling at his figure and seeking out his company. it almost feels like you’re his—almost.
so close, yet so painfully far.
it makes him a bad friend. he knows that—satoru has been glued to his side since he was a child. suguru doesn’t think there’s ever been a time he remembers without satoru, and he’s always liked it that way. loved it, in fact. satoru is a good best friend. the greatest, even. and he’s just as good of a boyfriend too—suguru should respect it, should put his head down and fight his demons and forget about his fantasies with you.
but then you pout as you whine, “gimme some, then. what’re you waiting for?”
“they’re for the movie,” he huffs, “don’t think i’ll share with you if you’re out of snacks before we finish the movie.”
“aw c’mon sugu,” you tease, giving him that dangerous smile of yours, “you’ll share with me, won’t you?”
yes. he’ll give you half of his soul if you asked. he’d carve out every bit of him to complete you if you needed him to, if you asked him to—he just needs you to ask. just once, he needs you to ask him.
“you’re a handful,” he mutters, “get your own snacks.” but he grabs a bag of chips from the pantry anyway, walks up to you and presses it to your hands. your fingers brush together as you reach—just at the tips, just barely for it to even count as a touch, but it makes you both still anyway.
he’s close. you can smell his cologne. he can smell your body wash. your fingers don’t pull away. his inch a little closer and feel your skin a little better. your face is close. his leans closer. and then you’re leaning in too—why are you leaning in? why aren’t you stopping? why isn’t he stopping?
and then it happens. his lips are on yours before you even realize it—you don’t even realize it, that’s the worst part. you don’t even register that you’re kissing suguru, your boyfriend’s best friend, the only one he has, because you’re so busy being lost in the feeling. his lips are warm, so soft and delicate and fuck, they’re a bit chapped and it only makes you want him more.
what other imperfections does he have? besides chapped lips, what else is there to discover? maybe his hair isn’t as soft when he hasn’t washed it after a few days. maybe his hands are a bit rough and calloused. maybe he has a scar or two from his childhood.
you don’t know, but you need to find out.
your hands are cupping his cheeks, making him lean into your mouth shakily, arms pulling you closer desperately. his arms are strong—they hold you tightly like you have nowhere else to go. and then when you take a chance as slip your fingers into his hair, to feel those strands you’ve only ever been able to stare at, he whines against your mouth.
like he wants more. like he needs more. like he’s always ever wanted more.
“c’mere,” he pants, “closer.”
you can’t help but listen. can’t help but lean closer and let him stand in between your legs as you’re sat on that damn kitchen island—you’ve kissed satoru against this same island. in secret. in a kiss or two you sneak when suguru doesn’t look. in a hopeless daze of want and need that always turns into more as soon as you’re both in private.
and now you’re kissing suguru. and it’s not enough. you need more—you feel like you can’t live without more.
“suguru,” you murmur, just because you need to taste his name on your lips when they’re whispered like that—like he’s yours.
“yeah?” he breathes, forehead pressed to your as his lips hover over your mouth—his breath is shared with yours, breathing you in and exhaling you out so you can inhale him too.
your hands are back on his face, thumb tracing the skin of his cheek so gently, it almost hurts that he’s gone this long without feeling you.
“i just wanted to say that,” you mumble, pecking his lips softly. he hums happily, closing his eyes as he leans into your hand and smiles.
“yeah?” he chuckles, “say it again—”
“guys i’ve finally arrived! the answer to your prayers,” satoru calls, opening the front door from the distance, “i know you’re bored without me. don’t worry, i’m here now.”
you pull away faster than lighting when you hear satoru, like suguru’s touch is the spark that’ll kill you if you let it near. he steps away, watches in slow motion as you plaster that lovesick grin on your face as satoru walks in and leans in to kiss you so softly—so carefree, so openly. like you’re his. like you belong to him. like you’ve only ever wanted him.
does satoru even realize? does he even notice the dazed look on your face and the plumpness of your lips? does he even notice the way your breath is short and a little puffy?
“toru what took you so long,” you pinch satoru’s cheek, “i’ve been waiting for you.”
“missed me huh?” satoru wiggles his brows—giddy, he’s always so giddy to be around you, always so happy to have you as his.
satoru is so lucky—and the worst part? he realizes it too. he doesn’t take you for granted, doesn’t ever leave an opening for suguru to take.
“don’t get a big head,” you roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slots himself between your legs—right where suguru was just moments ago.
“yeah, satoru,” suguru says before he can help it, staring right into your eyes as he speaks, “don’t have a big head. what if we didn’t miss you?”
“don’t be mean suguru,” satoru pouts, “you always miss me.”
if only he knew, suguru thinks, if only.
OH GOD. I FEEL SO BAD. but i love it 🤭