꒰୨୧꒱

“toji, babe, you can’t just hold megumi like that.”

you had left your husband and one year old son alone to go to the kitchen and returned a minute later, only to find toji holding your child like he’s holding onto a grocery bag.

“why not? kid seems pretty happy ‘bout it.” toji shrugs nonchalantly, looking down at the baby, “look at ‘m.”

your eyes move to focus on megumi, whose limbs are kicking around in the air, the back of his romper being held by toji’s rough hand. your son seems fine; no cries or protests. in fact, he’s happily sucking on his pacifier and those blue eyes of his are shining like he’s having the time of his life.

“see, told ya,” toji smirks as he sees the surprise on your face because of how content megumi is in such an uncomfortable-looking position, “no need to worry. ‘m strong enough not to drop him.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes and walk over to the couch, sitting down. you have a small bowl of food and a spoon ready to feed your child, “thanks. you can hand ‘gumi over now though. need to feed him.”

toji raises an eyebrow as he looks at the baby food. he sits beside you, placing megumi on his lap before grabbing the plate and utensil from your hands, “i can do it.”

he goes ahead and scoops up some mushed food, which is way too much for one bite. especially for a literal child.

“alright lil’ buddy, open up,” toji hums and guides the big bite to megumi’s mouth. your son parts his lips with a happy expression, taking in the food, but not without leaving a small mess around the corners. it’s expected to happen since his mouth had only so little capacity.

“tha’s my boy,” your husband grins before feeding the poor child another huge bite. more than half of it got smeared onto megumi’s chubby cheeks; his romper also catching some drops that fell from his lips.

though, that didn’t matter to toji. all that matters is that megumi isn’t making a fuss and that he’s happily munching on the food that he’s given.

the mess being made is of little importance to toji. the fact that he ‘succeeded’ in doing such a small task without making his son cry, is enough of an achievement for now.

“damn, i’m gettin’ pretty good at this parenting stuff, don’cha think?” toji snickers.

…well, it seems like he still has a long way to go for it to be considered ‘good’ enough by your standards. you’re glad he is trying at the very least.

you were standing outside of your boyfriend’s apartment, waiting patiently, you held onto the strap of your overnight bag with so much emotion.

it’s your first time spending the night at his place. you hear his footsteps get closer. you anxiously take out your phone and get a quick good look at your appearance, i mean, you might lose your virginity tonight?

shit.

you’re completely barefaced. not even a coat of mascara. you look like a complete mess.

before you could dig something out of your bag. sukuna was towering over you. “hey” he says softly, the corners of his mouth twitched at the sight of you.

you don’t speak at first—you don’t even look him in the eye, your eyes glue themselves to the ground.

the shame and embarrassment you felt burned. it felt like your face was on fire. so many thoughts kept crossing your mind.

bsf!yuji, who’s always so touchy with you—constantly clinging to you like a second skin, his big arms always wrapped around your waist, his cheek always pressed against yours, always hovering close to you whenever he can, ‘it’s what friends do!’ is all he says before pressed his lips at the crook of your neck slowly sniffing your perfume while tightening his grip around your body.

bsf!yuji, who always gets so jealous when you go on dates, constantly pouting when you get home with hickeys hidden under your shirt, staring at you like you did something criminal, still pressing his lips to the hickeys, all but fighting the urge to sink his teeth into your skin, marking you as his.

bsf!yuji, who doesn’t understand why would need anybody else’s help when he’s right there—willing to do absolutely anything for you, picking you up with flowers after shitty dates, taking you out on late night snack runs when you’re in on your head studying for your stupid exams, cuddling you to sleep during thunderstorms, your face smushed into his muscular chest, drowning out the noises outside while you drift away to sleep.

bsf!yuji, who doesn’t exactly understand why his heart beats faster when he’s around you—you’re just friends! buddies! platonic soulmates! or so he says, but he can’t ignore the way his chest tightens whenever you mention somebody you’re talking to, already trying to find ways to critique them and about how none of them are any good for you.

bsf!yuji, who kisses you for ‘practice’. it’s what friends do, right? he needs to know what he’s doing when he kisses someone! his hands are already planted around your waist while you straddle his lap, his soft moans spilling onto your lips while you slide your tongue against his lips, his hands moving closer and closer to your chest while his lips stay planted on yours.

bsf!yuji, who starts kissing you like it’s second nature—the two of you are used to it, after all! it’s completely platonic, or so he says. and your lips are just so soft and warm and fit so perfectly against his, he just can’t help it :c

bsf!yuji, who always shows up dishevelled, hair sticking up at awkward angles when he can’t fall asleep—flopping on your bed and sniffing your sheets, flipping over and pawing the air so he can cuddle you to sleep.

bsf!yuji, who massages your stomach when your period cramps start getting to you, his palms warm while he applies a consistent pressure to your stomach while you try not to curl in on yourself.

bsf!yuji, who’s always at your every beck and call—you could call him at the dead of night, and he’d be dressed and ready to show up at your place. need food? say less, he’s driving to the convenience store, stocking up on snacks, showing up at your door, the two of you sitting on the floor, twilight playing in the background while you stuffed your face with shitty ramen and chips.

bsf!yuji, who cant bring himself to accept that he’s fallen in love with you. wholly and utterly down bad, and boy, he’d do anything to call you his, his girl but he’s petrified that you’d say no—that you’re better off as friends when he knows you guys could be so much better as something more.

i love him :3

megumi presses his lips against your inner thigh, kissing the plush skin softly. he knows you're nervous, he's even more nervous. he's never done this before, he doesn't even know how.

he watched tutorials on youtube, though he would never admit it. he even asked yuji, who was no help.

but now laying here with you, he thinks he's got this. his nose brushes your clothed mound gently as he looks up and meets your eyes.

"just trust me, yeah?"

you nod, cheeks flushed. he smiles and kisses the mound softly before hooking his finger and pulling the fabric away from you. you gasp, still nervous.

he kisses your bare mound, taking his sweet time with getting you to calm down.

"lift your hips, sweets."

you do as he says and he slides your panties off. now you're bare in front of him, stomach curling in knots of nervousness. he stares at your pretty pussy, wet and pretty, just for him.

he reaches a hand up and intertwines his fingers with yours.

"it's okay." he kisses your thigh. "are you sure you want this? we don't have to."

you nod. "please, gumi."

he hums, sliding a finger over your slit. you twitch, letting out a deep breath. its a new feeling.

megumi presses a kiss to your slit, slipping his tongue inside. his tongue is warm as he licks your slick. it feels good, the warmth, the wetness, his nose pressed on your skin.

he kisses your clit gently, giving it kitten licks that make you squirm. you whine softly, hips unconsiously trying to get more friction.

he keeps his fingers intertwined in yours, enjoying the warmth your provide. his tongue dives deeper, spit mixing with your arousal. his chin gets messy and he licks all over.

your whines and sighs start to get into his head as he licks faster, now learning to suck on your clit. it makes you gasp loudly and megumi figures out pretty quickly that it feels good for you.

he gives harsh sucks on your clit, hand squeezing yours softly, a promise that he's still there.

you start to get extra squirmy, rutting your pussy on his face and he can tell you're close. your whines come out more frequently and then you stop, toes curling and hips trembling softly.

he smiles against you, giving sweet sucks on your bud, kissing and licking till your hand meets his forehead and pushes him away.

his lips are messy but he looks in awe of you.

"you're sweet." he whispers. you smile, dazed.

he lays next to you, licking his lips clean and pulls you into his chest.

he thinks he might have to start doing this every night.

to say sukuna doesn't like when you disrespect yourself would be untrue, because he doesn't even let you get that far. you're his, which means when you talk bad about yourself, you're offending him too.

he'll slap your ass as he passes by you getting a bowl of fruit in the kitchen, in nothing but one of his shirts and an old pair of pj shorts, hair a mess. he lets out a "fuck, don't tempt me right now," his eyes scanning you from head to toe with that familiar heat in them.

your brows furrow in confusion and you literally go to the bathroom to look in the mirror to check that your appearance didn't magically ameliorate from the last time you saw yourself. he follows you and you're almost offended when you look in the mirror. is he playing a prank on you?

"what? i literally look-"

his hand comes to grab your throat gently but firm, a brow raised as he stares down at you and then through the mirror. "you look what?" his gaze is daring you to say something negative.

you can feel that he's not joking. you swallow, "um, good?"

he hums satisfied and pulls you closer, bending down to kiss you, the way his tongue smoothly finds its way into your mouth has heat spreading through your body.

he pulls back and looks you over again appreciatively, smushing your cheeks playfully before walking away. "s'what i thought."

“you,” nerd!gojo says, not to you, but to the part of him his six-inch-long fingers are devouring. “you’re always so quiet when she’s yelling at me. you could at least make a little noise for me then, y'know?”

you seize up, surprise and confusion hitting at the same time. “gojo, what the hell are you—”

but he only shushes you with a patronizing little tsk, thrustsing two fingers deep in you just to watch you moan while his other hand clamps over your mouth–firm enough to cut your words.

“i’m talking to her. not you.” his eyebrows furrow in that petty, childish pout he gets whenever he’s mildly inconvenienced, his bottom lip jutting out just the tiniest bit. “you see, baby? she always tries to interrupt. just like when i was trying to study and she snatched my notes and threw them in a pond. called me a useless nerd right in front of everyone.”

his long fingers sustain a languid rhythm, his sculpted chest heaving with a short, annoyed huff at the memory. when you jerk your hips to throw him off, the heel of his hand cracks against your poor cunt—a sharp, stinging smack that forces a wet squelch against his palm.

“and the hitting,” he continues, voice pitching into a whinier, petulant cadence. “you wouldn’t believe it. last week, i got a bruise on my arm.” he adjusts his angle, the pad of his thumb rubbing your clit in coarse circles. “just because i corrected her answer in advanced calculus. i was right! i always am! but she just likes making me feel small, doesn't she?"

stop it" you shove against his shoulders, but satoru doesn't even rock back. he just pushes his fingers deeper, the heel of his hand pressing roughly against you.

“no,” his bright blue eyes are huge and glassy, talking to your cunt like it’s his only friend. “she doesn’t get to tell me to stop. not after she made me do her entire literature thesis. not after she tripped me in the cafeteria, and my tray went everywhere. i had to clean it up myself.”

he pumps his fingers into you harder, the wet sound of your body fluids becoming obscenely loud. “you understand me, don’t you? you’re the only one who’s ever nice to me.”

“g-gojo, please...” you whimper, not even sure what you’re asking for. you’re so close, and the humiliation from this boy you’ve spent all semester tormenting only fuels it.

“s'okay,” he coos, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “you can show her, right? show her what happens when she’s mean to me. do it f'me, baby.”

it’s the final, bizarre permission your body needed. you come, a hot, gushing release that soaks his hand, his wrist, the inside of your thighs. it sprays, pearly streaks against the white sheets.

satoru goes perfectly still. his whining ceases as he cocks his head like a curious puppy. he slowly draws his glistening fingers out, staring at the wet trails sliding down his knuckles with an expression of rapt, awe-struck wonder, as if he's just successfully completed a difficult laboratory experiment. a long, satisfied exhale escapes his plush lips, his broad shoulders finally relaxing.

"you did it," he breathes, his voice reverent. he brings his soaked fingers to his mouth, never breaking eye contact with the only thing that never disappointed him. he licks a stripe across his wrist, swallowing your fluids eagerly. “you did so good. congratulations. see? i knew you had it in you.”

he looks up at your eyes then, his azure gaze blazing with triumph behind his crooked glasses. a whiney, desperate nerd, glowing with perverse pride.

nerdjo’s glasses slip down his nose as he stares at you between his knees, mouth already running even while you’re bobbing on his cock.

“fuckkk, that’s so good—shit, wait, did you know that like… most guys only last like five minutes with head? which is, y’know, kind of embarrassing considering the male refractory period—”

his words stutter when you swallow around his sensitive tip, spit dripping down your chin. “ohhh god, okay, yeah, that’s—fuck—that’s definitely less than five minutes for me.”

your tongue presses under his tip and he whines, still running his mouth.

“ahhh—shit, baby, did you also know semen actually has, like, fructose in it? it’s literally nature’s energy drink—ohhh fuck, your tongue—wait, wait, don’t stop—” his whimpers comes out shaky, hand twitching like he wants to push your head down but can’t decide if it’s rude.

you take him deeper, throat tightening, and he slaps a shaky hand over his mouth, eyes rolling back behind his lenses. he tries to muffle a moan but it comes out anyway, high and desperate.

“o-okay, okay, uh—s-science says sucking dick releases oxytocin—hahh, f-fuck—bonding hormone, y’know? so technically, we’re like… getting closer right now.”

you hum around him in agreement and he gasps, words spilling faster. “shitshitshit, baby, you’re—fuck, your throat’s so warm, you’re making me cum—ahhh, oh god, wait, I’m serious, I’m—”

your boyfriend megumi was honestly not prepared for how much time you would spend playing tomodachi life when he bought it for you.

at any given downtime, he saw you with your switch in your hand, playing with your miis day and night. he already had to go through this when you got animal crossing all those years ago, he could not do this again.

he wouldn’t go as far as saying he was a clingy lover, but he loved spending time with you, and wasn’t fond of having to share your attention with a video game. unfortunately for him, you tended to give games like these more attention than him whenever you got hooked on them.

he couldn’t be too upset, he was happy that you were enjoying the game, especially because he bought it for you. but he missed spending downtime with you, having your attention on him instead of some cute game.

so he proposed a compromise.

that being that you can keep playing your game, but you had to give him some attention too. attention being sitting on his cock.

he let out a deep sigh, chin resting on your shoulder as he watched you play tomodachi life. your warm slick walls were snug around his cock, twitching inside of you, begging for movement. he kept still though, keeping his promise and letting you play your game.

“is this supposed to be me?” megumi mumbled, hands soothingly trailing up and down your thigh as he spotted a mii that resembled him. jet black spiked hair from behind being a dead giveaway. you chuckled, shifting to get more comfortable in his hold. you weren’t used to him being inside idle inside you like this, but it didn’t necessarily feel bad either. “yeah, i made you last night! check this out!” you said excitedly, bringing the cursor over his mii and clicking on him.

“oh..hello.” his mii said calmly, bowing with his greeting. megumi couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips when he heard the mii version of himself speak. “wow, it even sounds like me.” he said with a smile, watching as you fed him and talked to him. “how’d you get my scars on his face like that?” he asked softly, admiring how you got every detail onto his mii. “face paint…i don’t have a stylus so i had to draw your crazy bangs and scars myself.” you teased with a knowing grin.

he thrusted into you gently, biting back a wider smile at your yelp. “my hair isn’t that crazy…” he mumbled in your cheek before kissing it, slowly continuing to thrust into your warmth as you rocked back against him. “i thought you said i would just be sitting on it.” you remarked between a moan, feeling his hips come to a stop. he huffed in annoyance, cock twitching and begging for more stimulation in your slick pussy.

“not my fault you feel so good..” he mumbled lamely in defense. you chuckled, feeling his obvious restraint as you pulled up his mii’s relationship tab, scrolling through to see if he has talked to anyone since you last played. “it says me and you are strangers.” he stated, continuing to loom over your shoulder at the screen.

“i know, i wanted to wait and show you your mii first, then make us meet.” you snuggled further against his chest, one of his hands now holding you by your waist to pull you impossibly closer. you picked up his mii and dragged him over to your mii, placing him in front of you. the screen went black for a moment before lighting back up to show him walking. “uh…do they always have cutscenes when they meet?—” he cut himself off when a crazy sound effect played, his mii’s eyes widening as he stared at yours, cartoonish romantic music now coming from your game system as your mii made eye contact with his, before promptly walking past him.

his mii literally fell in love with yours the second it saw you.

“oh my god! megs! you’re in love with me!” you squealed excitedly as the prompt came up, quickly clicking ‘it’s love!’ as megumi smiled at your happiness, a small huff of laughter as he pressed soft kisses against your neck. “yeah, i definitely remember it happening that way.” he teased, trailing kisses along your sensitive neck. you squirmed in his lap with giggles as you tried to keep playing the game, seeing that your boyfriend was now suddenly enamored with kissing your neck. he gripped your hips, groaning softly into your skin. “don’t move too much.” he warned quietly, restraint evident in his voice as he twitched deep inside you, pre cum leaking from his neglected dick.

the both of you almost forgot he was inside of you, too deep into tomodachi life to remember that he was seethed to the hilt into your cunt. if he was being honest, he was feeling too lazy for sex, he just wanted to be as close to you as physically possible. he’d be lying if he said you didn’t feel amazing wrapped around him, though. he released his grip to knead at your plush skin as he watched your mii and his finally have a conversation.

you continued to show him around your island, the islands name being after his domain, ‘shadow garden island.’ he loved the fact that even if you wasn’t paying him any attention, that you still thought about him. you showed him your house and your other residents houses, your island format and decoration, any tiny detail that any normal person would miss. “you put a lot of thought and care into this, huh?” he asked softly, even though he already knew the answer. you always put thought in care into everything you did, one of the many reasons he fell in love with you.

minutes blurred into several, those minutes passed into an hour as both of you got engrossed in the nintendo game. he had practically gone soft inside you at this point, that didn’t mean he wanted to pull out by any means. “hey..” he began softly, a hand rubbing your shoulder to get your attention. you hummed in response, his fingers trailing up further to your cheek and pressing your head to the side to surprise you with a soft kiss. you melted into it, lips moving in sync against his as he hummed in satisfaction, kissing lazily and almost forgetting about the game in your hands.

“i love you.” he spoke softly, smiling against your lips when you reciprocated his love with your own “i love you too.” he pressed his lips against yours quickly before pulling away, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck to allow you to continue playing the game.

“wow… megumi, so you were like a vigilante?”

“…don’t listen to kugisaki. she’s exaggerating,”

despite the dismissal, the truth reveals itself through the efficient beatdowns he delivers to any creep who dares to harass you. watching him work makes two things very clear.

1. nobara wasn’t exaggerating in the slightest.

2. you are safer than you’ve ever been.

Megumi has a very serious problem

You’ve been dating Megumi for almost two years now, and the man is still convinced he’s supposed to have outgrown this.

He’s twenty one. He’s faced down curses that could level cities. He’s a jujutsu sorcerer with a reputation for being calm, collected, borderline emotionless.  And yet.

Every single day, without fail, you make him so hard it hurts.

The first light filters through the blinds of your shared apartment and Megumi wakes up with your back pressed to his chest, your ass nestled perfectly against him like it was made to fit there. 

You’re still half asleep, humming softly, stretching like a cat. The tiny tank top you wear to bed has ridden up; he can feel the warm skin of your waist under his palm.

He’s already rock hard.

He bites the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes blood and carefully shifts his hips back, trying to create even an inch of space between his aching cock and the soft curve of your body. You make a sleepy noise of protest and push back against him again.

“Megumi… five more minutes,” you mumble, voice raspy.

He swallows a groan. “Yeah. Five more.”

He spends the entire five minutes mentally reciting the names of every shikigami he owns so he doesn’t cum in his sweatpants.

Later that same morning you’re in the kitchen making pancakes in nothing but one of his oversized black shirts and low socks. The hem barely covers the bottom of your ass when you reach up for the syrup on the top shelf. 

Megumi is standing at the counter pretending to scroll through his phone, but his eyes are glued to the way the shirt rides up, the flash of lace panties, the smooth skin of your thighs.

His cock twitches so violently he has to cross his legs under the counter.

You turn around with a bright smile, spatula in hand. “Want chocolate chips in yours, baby?”

He nods, voice tight. “Yeah. Thanks.”

You don’t notice the way he keeps his hoodie pulled low over his lap the entire time you’re eating. Or how he volunteers to do all the dishes just so he can stand at the sink with cold water running over his wrists until the ache finally eases.

Movie nights are the worst.

You always end up with your head in his lap, legs stretched across the couch, completely relaxed. 

Tonight you’re in tiny sleep shorts and a thin bralette. Your cheek is pressed right against his thigh, dangerously close to the bulge he’s been fighting since the opening credits.

Halfway through the film you shift, nuzzling closer, and your breath ghosts over the front of his sweats. Megumi’s hand tightens in your hair before he can stop himself.

You glance up at him innocently. “You okay? You’re really warm.”

“I’m fine,” he lies, jaw clenched so hard it clicks. His cock is straining painfully against the fabric, a wet spot already forming at the tip. He wants to flip you over and bury himself inside you so badly he can’t think straight, but he just keeps stroking your hair like the respectful boyfriend he’s trying (and failing) to be.

Showering together is straight up torture.

You love it—love the way he washes your hair, love how his hands feel sliding over your soapy skin. He loves it too, which is exactly the problem.

You’re standing under the spray, back to his chest, humming while he runs a loofah down your spine. The soap suds slide over the curve of your ass and between your thighs and Megumi has to physically turn away, pressing his forehead against the cold tile, cock throbbing angrily between his legs.

You notice the sudden distance and peek over your shoulder. “Megumi?”

“Shampoo in my eyes,” he mutters, voice hoarse.

He doesn’t turn back around until the water runs cold.

He never says anything. Never complains. Never asks for relief.

Because he’s grown now. He’s not some horny kid who can’t control himself just because his girlfriend exists. He’s supposed to be better than this. So he hides it. Every single time.

Until the hike.

It’s a rare off day. You dragged him out to one of the trails outside the city because “the leaves are so pretty right now, Megumi, please?” and he can never say no to you.

You’re wearing the shortest hiking shorts he’s ever seen in his life. The ones that ride up with every step and show the soft underside of your ass. On top is a white ribbed tank top. Your wearing no bra. The morning air is cool enough that your nipples are visibly hard, poking against the thin fabric with every breath.

Megumi is dying.

He’s been semi hard since you bent over to tie your shoe in the parking lot. Now, three miles in, he’s fully, painfully erect, the thick outline obvious against the front of his dark cargo pants no matter how many times he adjusts himself.

You’re walking ahead of him, pointing out a bird or a flower or whatever, when you suddenly stop and turn around.

“Baby, are you—oh.”

Your eyes drop.

He freezes.

You’re staring right at the very obvious, very hard bulge in his pants. The one he’s been trying to hide by keeping his hands in his pockets for the last twenty minutes. Your gaze flicks back up to his face, then down again, then back up. Your lips part.

“Megumi…”

He feels his face burn. “It’s not—fuck, I didn’t mean—” He drags a hand through his hair, mortified. “You just… your shorts are really short. And your shirt. And I—shit. I’m sorry. I know it’s stupid. I should be able to control myself by now, I’m not a kid anymore, but you just… you breathe and I—”

You step closer.

The trail is empty. Sunlight filters through the trees and lands on your skin, on the hard little peaks of your nipples, on the way your thighs press together under those tiny shorts.

You reach out and gently cup the front of his pants with your palm.

He hisses through his teeth, hips jerking forward before he can stop himself.

“Megumi,” you say softly, eyes wide and dark. “Have you been like this… every time?”

He can’t look at you. “Sorry...”

“Even when I was cooking?”

“Maybe.”

“Movie night?”

“Kinda.”

“Shower?”

“Every single time.”

You bite your lip, and he sees the exact moment you decide to ruin him.

You squeeze gently.

“Then why didn’t you ever say anything?” Your voice drops to that sweet, dangerous tone you only use when you want him desperate. “I could’ve helped you, baby. I love helping you.”

He groans, forehead dropping to your shoulder. His cock twitches hard against your hand.

“I thought it was pathetic,” he admits, voice wrecked. “Getting this hard just because you’re… you.”

You laugh softly and press a kiss under his jaw.

“It’s not pathetic.” Another kiss. “It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” Your fingers trace the thick length of him through his pants. “You’re so in love with me you can’t even function. That’s mine.”

He shudders.

You pull back just enough to look him in the eyes, cheeks flushed, nipples still straining against your tank top.

“So what do you want to do about it, Megumi?” you whisper, thumb brushing over the head of his cock through the fabric. “Because I’m not walking another step until you stop hiding how much you want me.”

He stares at you—your tiny shorts, your hard nipples, the love in your eyes—and finally, finally stops pretending.

His voice is rough when he answers.

“I want you. Right now.”

You smile like you’ve been waiting years for him to say it.

“Good.”

And then you’re pulling him off the trail, deeper into the trees, his hand tight in yours and his cock aching for the first time with permission to want you as badly as he does.

Because Megumi Fushiguro may be grown now.

But he’s never going to stop getting hard for you.

And you’re never going to let him hide it again.

This is is optional, I just really like writing smut so I did 😭

The trees are thick enough to hide you both. Megumi’s hand is still tight in yours as you tug him off the main trail, heart hammering so loud you’re sure he can hear it. His face is flushed, eyes dark, that painfully obvious bulge in his cargo pants leading the way.

You stop in a small clearing where the sunlight barely reaches, soft moss underfoot and the distant sound of birds. 

You turn to him, still in those tiny shorts and the thin white tank top, nipples visibly hard against the fabric. Megumi’s gaze drops to them, then lower, and he swallows hard.

“Megumi,” you say softly, stepping close enough that your chest brushes his. “You don’t have to hide it anymore.”

He exhales shakily, hands coming up to grip your waist like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “I just… fuck. I want you so much it’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not.” You slide your hand down his front again, palming the thick, aching length of him through his pants. He groans low in his throat, hips pushing forward into your touch. “ you get this hard just from me. I love it.”

He kisses you then—desperate, messy, all the pent up need from every hidden moment pouring out. His tongue slides against yours while your fingers work open his bottoms. When you finally wrap your hand around his cock, hot and heavy and leaking at the tip, he breaks the kiss with a choked sound.

“Shit—wait, I don’t have anything—”

You smile against his mouth. “I’m on the pill..”

That’s all it takes.

Megumi spins you around gently, pressing your back against a smooth tree trunk. His hands are everywhere—sliding under your tank top to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing your hard nipples until you whimper. He tugs the fabric up, exposing you to the cool air, and leans down to take one into his mouth, sucking softly. You thread your fingers through his dark hair, arching into him.

Your shorts come off next. He hooks his thumbs in the waistband and drops to his knees, kissing down your stomach as he peels them down your legs along with your panties. The sight of him on his knees, eyes hungry as he looks up at you, makes heat pool between your thighs.

He presses a kiss to your inner thigh, then another higher, until his tongue finds your clit. You moan his name, legs trembling. 

He’s not teasing today—he licks and sucks with single minded focus, like he’s making up for every time he suffered in silence. Two fingers slide into you easily, curling just right, and you cum with a soft cry, gripping his hair tighter.

Megumi stands up fast, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His cock is flushed dark and curving up against his stomach, precum beading at the tip. He lifts one of your legs around his hip, lining himself up.

“Look at me,” he breathes.

You do. His eyes are intense, full of love and raw want as he pushes in—slow at first, stretching you open inch by inch until he’s buried to the hilt. The groan he lets out is wrecked.

“Fuck… you feel so good. Always so perfect.”

He starts moving, deep and steady, one hand braced on the tree beside your head, the other holding your thigh. Every thrust makes your back scrape lightly against the bark, but you don’t care. You cling to his shoulders, moaning into his neck as he fucks you harder, chasing the months of hidden frustration.

“Megumi—ah—harder…”

He obeys, hips snapping forward. The wet sound of skin against skin fills the quiet woods. His free hand slips between you, thumb circling your clit, and you cum again around him, clenching so tight he curses under his breath.

“I’m close,” he pants, forehead pressed to yours. “Can I—inside?”

“Yes. Please.”

A few more thrusts and he buries himself deep, groaning your name as he spills inside you, hips stuttering. He keeps rocking gently through it, like he can’t bear to stop yet.

For a long moment you just stay like that—connected, breathing each other in. Megumi kisses you softly, almost shy now that the heat has broken.

“I’m sorry I hid it for so long,” he murmurs against your lips.

You smile, running your fingers through his messy hair. “Don’t be. But from now on… you tell me every time you get hard for me. Deal?”

He huffs a quiet laugh, still inside you. “Deal.”

You stay wrapped around each other until the sun shifts and the trail calls you back. Megumi helps you back into your tiny shorts, his hands lingering. His cock is already twitching again at the sight of you—flushed, marked by him, nipples still visible through your tank top.

You notice and grin.

“Round two when we get home?”

Megumi pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Or I can reward you when we get to the top...”

He’s never hiding it again.

I BOUGHT FUCKING ARIANNA GRANDE TICKETS

You and yuji kind of have a private ritual you two do whenever the other or both of you has had a hard day. A shower—together. And this time, you had a terrible day. I mean you could hardly get up to shower, you laid on the floor for atleast an hour when you came home, wanting the floor to swallow you whole.

But that was until yuji came in, he had buttered you up with his sweet words, kissed your neck with a few pecks, picked out your pjs for the night—your favorite matching set. “Come on,” he murmurs, “I’ll even let you turn the shower blazing hot even though I despise it.”

And that’s how you two ended up in the shower.

𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯

He’s washing your back and pressing kisses against your shoulder. “I love you alot.” he murmurs, and you can only smile as you feel your soapy back rest against his chest. Words couldn’t express your feelings right now anyways, but you did love, you loved him alot. Especially right now.

“Do you love me back?” He questions, his fingers trace your back, writing something with the soap. ‘I love you’

“Ha, yes yuji.” you smile, “I love you, so much.” You spin around facing him, and he bends down and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “tell me about your day!” he exclaims, “oh and can you get my back?” there was the hyper yuji you know.

You feel your lip quiver as you scrub his back, soap spilling over your hands. “it was awful.” your voice shakes, And that’s what prompts yuji to turn around. He pouts as he sees your sadden expression. “aw baby.” he brings you into a wet soapy hug, you two are skin to skin and he can feel your body physically relax.

“Hey—you can cry.” and it takes those three words for your tears to spill. You cry in his chest, body shaking. His fingers softly rub up and down on your back, Biting his bottom lip.

Yuji is usually unserious but he can’t stand seeing you like this. It makes him almost want to cry. He’s stands in thought as you shake in his arms. And he can feel tears start up in his eyes as well, but he immediately wipes them.

“Baby,” he murmurs and you lift your head up. “Wanna go grab some ice cream? And then hit up the beach, hm?” He has those pleading starry eyes. You smile through your tears before fully laughing, and that—that caused yuji to stop, and admire.

“I love you—again and over and over, and forever.” he murmurs more to himself as he sees your smile. “hm?” you say asking what he said, “uh so is that a yes?” and you nod, a smile.

Sukuna’s developed an irritating habit. Whenever he’s fed up with you, or whenever he doesn’t want to entertain one of your questions, he’ll simply stay quiet and gesture towards his stomach. It’s kind of like saying ‘talk to the hand’. But in his case, it’s ‘talk to the stomach mouth’. 

Then his stomach mouth will shoot you this wide, smug grin, like it’s more than happy to converse with you. And you’ll just toss up your hands and groan, annoyed that your husband won’t even bother to speak with you face to face. 

But recently you've taken Sukuna up on his offer, turning the tables to give him the silent treatment while still chatting away with his stomach. Because Sukuna underestimated just how much that mouth of his likes to rile someone up. Even if it’s the rest of his body. 

Now, Sukuna’s lounging on the bed, limbs draped carelessly along the mattress. He’s trying to feign indifference. Trying to pretend he’s unphased by the fact that you haven’t spoken to him in four whole days. 

But you know better. You see the slight clench in his jaw, the scowl that deepens on his face each time he steals a look your way. He watches as you sit by the window, gazing at the scenery outside. 

When the silence stretches on longer than he can bear, Sukuna sets his pride aside to clear his throat and ask, “Are you still doing this?” 

You don’t even spare him a glance, continuing to look out the window. “Middle Mouth,” you say, “will you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I have no idea what he’s talking about?”

Sukuna scoffs in disbelief, but that mouth of his flashes its teeth and singsongs, “Sukunaaaa. She doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I heard you,” Sukuna huffs, speaking to you instead of his stomach.

He hates this whole situation. Hates that you're not speaking with him. Hates that you’ve given his stomach mouth a nickname. And he hates that the mouth is entertaining it at all. 

 His jaw clenches once more, and he sighs before saying, “You’re ignoring me.” 

He’s not wrong. For almost a week, you’ve been avoiding your husband, refusing to interact or even look at any part of him other than his stomach maw. But despite all of his sulking and sour moods, you act as if nothing is amiss.

“Middle Mouth, will you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I am not ignoring him. You and I just had a lovely conversation, didn’t we?”

“Sukunaaaa,” the mouth singsongs again. “She isn’t ignoring you…well, me.” That grin returns, and you can’t help but let out a quiet laugh. Why didn’t you start speaking with your husband’s stomach mouth sooner? He really is entertaining.

“Stop that. Don’t humor her,” Sukuna scolds.

“Middle Mouth, you can converse with me as you please.”

“I intend to,” his maw replies. 

Sukuna’s eyes narrow, but he’s not sure whether to direct his glare at you or his abdomen. “How long do you intend to keep up these antics?”

You brush an imaginary piece of lint from your clothes and say, "Middle Mouth, please inform the rest of Sukuna that I’m still waiting on a proper apology from him." 

“I’m warning you, do not–”

“Sukunaaaa. She is waiting for a proper apology from you.”

Sukuna stares murderously down at his lower half. He’s finally met his match. The only ‘enemy’ that he can’t silence by force. Himself. 

And secretly, you think that he slightly enjoys that you’re speaking with his stomach mouth. It shows him that despite this silent treatment, you still desire some form of communication with him. 

So he’ll put up with the teasing, the inside jokes, and the fact that his wife is being stolen by his own body.

You decide to press your luck a little bit further, and say something you know will send your husband over the edge. “Middle Mouth–”

“Not again,” Sukuna groans, tossing his head back.

“Do you remember what I told you? What we talked about last night?”

“What?!?" Sukuna demands, sitting up abruptly and sending the covers around him flying.

“Oh, I remember,” his maw says, immediately grinning and playing into it. 

“Well, I was thinking about it and–”

“Why are you speaking with my wife at night?”

“Our wife. And what we discuss during late hours does not concern you.” 

“Anyways, as I was telling you, Middle Mouth, before I was rudely interrupted–”

“No. This ends now."

In seconds, Sukuna’s beside you, all 7 feet of him towering over you intimidatingly. He rubs a hand across his jaw, like he has to physically force the words out of his mouth. “I.. apologize for not answering when you asked me which of my cocks I urinate from.”

“…”

“The answer is both of them.”

Immediately, your mood lifts. You turn away from the window, smiling and facing your husband like nothing was ever wrong. “Apology accepted.” And then to his stomach mouth, “We’ll continue our conversation later.” 

mdni 🔞

he’s sitting on the floor in front of the couch in between your legs, his head resting against your lower abdomen.

his fingers moved over the controller with practiced precision, some first person shooter game hooked up to the television.

you’re playing with his hair, absentmindedly scrolling through your phone. but you were beginning to get bored of this. it was a saturday night, and you had gone over to your boyfriends dorm expecting him to at least pay attention to you.

you got an idea.

your voice was soft, hands stilling in his hair as you spoke, “hey.”

“hm.”

“do you wanna eat me out?”

he paused for a moment, fingers stilling on the controller, before he began to shift.

“…yeah.”

just like that, the game was forgotten.

GAME OVER flashed on the screen, but neither of you cared.

megumi was now kneeling in front of the couch, his face buried between your thighs as his fingers gently ran up and down your bare legs.

“ngh.. like that..” you moaned, fingers entangled in his hair, gripping hard. it only egged him on further. he even quietly whimpered into your pussy as you tugged at his hair.

his tongue made your toes curl, low, raw moans tearing from your throat. he knew how to make you feel good, and he would never miss an opportunity to do so.

“f-fuck.. gonna cum- don’t stop..” you whined, eyes squeezing shut, head thrown back against the couch cushions as you felt your release build.

megumi kept going, his hands gripping your thighs tight. his tongue lapped at your sweet juices, drinking in your slick like water. he moaned softly into your folds, he wasn’t even touching himself, your pleasure just got him off so good.

you came with a broken cry, your hands tight in his hair. megumi didn’t stop until you were shaking with overstimulation.

he pressed his cheek against your inner thigh, panting and looking up at you with that soft, puppy-eyed gaze.

his voice was quiet as he finally spoke, cheeks tinted slightly pink.

“can i do it again..?”