⋆˚꩜｡angelica˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

— WELCOME

hi im angelica! i'm 7teen years old and i started writing recently (no one ever wrote the specific scenarios i had in mind so i had to step up) - leave requests i promise i will use some as inspiration when i'm in a slump

would like to mention that my first language is not english so if i make any mistakes be kind

i write (mostly) jjk, mha and would like to start writing for haikyuu, naruto and knb

you never had a problem with being inexperienced — you usually paid no mind to your innocence, having barely had a first kiss as a dare. but when your friends start talking about making out with someone or showing off their hickeys proudly, you can't help but feel left out.

the pictures they would show you off their partner's neck full of purple ish marks made you curious — how could that even feel good? even more important, how do you even know how to do that? it can't be as simple as sucking on the skin, could it?

that's how you ended up in megumi's bed sitting across from him, begging him to let you try it out on him to avoid future ebarassement. "please megumi all my friends do it, i just want to know how to." you complain, trying to convince him to be your test subject.

"no way. you don't need to know how to do stupid things like that." his voice has it's usual stoicism, but the facade of calmess is betrayed by the pink on the tip of his ears. he's mindlessly scrolling on his phone, hiding how affected he really is simply by the conversation.

huffing, you cross your arms. "come on megumi. please. you're the only one i feel comfortable enough to ask. i'll own you one, just please." the raw honesty in your voice makes him look up — his first mistake, when he sees your big eyes staring at him like he's the only one who can save you.

he's stuck looking at you, unable to move his eyes away and you take the chance — making your voice as seductive as you possibly can, taking his hand in yours. "please?" it comes out breathy enough to make megumi's cheeks heat up at your tone.

his gaze moves down to your lips so fast you're not sure you didn't imagine it by the time he's looking at you again. "fine. just make it quick." he surrenders, his voice faltering when you start moving towards him. "you're the best!" your innocent voice doesn't really match the situation but he doesn't answer, his breath only hitching once you settle on his lap.

almost automatically his hands shoot out to hold your waist, his hips pushing up to adjust himself. he's not used to having you this close, to feel you everywhere but nevertheless he doesn't push you off, doesn't try to control your movements — just stays quiet until you get comfortable enough to start your experiment.

your hands press against his chest to balance yourself, feeling how fast his heart is beating purely from the skin contact. looking at him a last time for permission, he nods lightly, making his head fall back against the headboard to give you more access to his neck.

taking a deep breath, you lean down until your hot breath is hitting his pale neck, making him let out a quiet sound, you nearly didn't catch. your lips finally touch his skin, at first barely, still enough to make megumi squeeze his eyes shut like he's fighting himself.

you start placing soft kisses on the column of his neck, not sucking just yet, but making him used to the feeling of your lips on him. when you feel his tense body relax just a bit, you gain the confidence and start sucking on his skin. your lips latch on the side of his neck, and when you start sucking at the skin he lets out a gasp — much louder than the sound before, his grip on your waist thightening.

you continue your work until a small purple mark starts forming, only releasing when you're sure you did it right. pulling back slowly to admire your work, you see much more than just the hickey — you see megumi with his eyes shut, pink tint all over his face and a breath so heavy it looks like he ran a marathon.

he only opens his eyes when he feels you staring at him, adverting his gaze to you. you don't give him time to talk, already leaning back, attaching your lips back on his neck. this time, you hear the desperate sound he tries to cover up clearly.

you could've stopped before — but seeing him so wrecked almost desperate, awaked something in you that you never felt before. so instead, you continue leaving small marks all over his throat, making sure to catch every small sound leaving the boy's mouth.

only when his body starts getting restless — hips jutting up, the grip on your waist almost bruising, do you pull back, only for him to stop you with a hand, keeping you in place on his neck. "please. don't stop." he breathes out, every bit of control he tried to fight over shattered, like the only thing that mattered was to have your lips back on him.

you were failing chemistry. terribly. it's not like you're stupid or anything — you had straight A's everywhere else without trying. maybe that was the problem — you never have to study much to get good grades, but for some reason it didn't work with chemistry.

so you called your only hope. kuroo tetsuro.

except, what you didn't think about, is that the man himself was a distraction. yes, he was smart, no you didn't listen to a word he was saying — not when he's leaning over behind you, arm flexing at your side when he's pointing at something in the textbook.

i mean, can he really blame you? he obviously just came back from the gym or practice, the way his muscles were even more prominent than usual. his hair was still damp from the shower he took, probably not even ten minutes before coming into your dorm, smelling like someone begging to do anything but studying.

when he realises you're not listening to him he pauses — seeing the way your eyes wander over his bulging arms, looking like you're itching to reach over and lick them. in any other scenario he might have been flattered, reciprocating by throwing some compliment in there, but right now he really didn't want his girlfriend to fail the year because she was busy ogling him.

"are you listening to a word i'm saying, or are my muscles more interesting than Schrödinger Wave Theory?" this seems to bring you out of your trance, suddenly aware how you were basically eating your boyfriend up with your gaze. your cheeks redden from embarassement, eyes looking everywhere but at him, making him chuckle.

"no... i'm sorry your body is distracting me.." your voice comes out quiet, he's almost not sure if he heard you right, but by the way you're avoiding his eyes he thinks he heard you just fine. "are you objectifying me while i'm trying to help you pass?" he acuses you dramatically, his hand clutching his chest in a offended manner.

"what? how is it my fault your biceps are like right next my head? am i not supposed to want to touch you when you'reright there?" you shot back, crossing your arms, finally having the courage to look at your boyfriend who was now smirking like he figured you all out.

moving his arms on each side of you from behind, he traps you right inbetween them, making it impossible for you to stand up without struggling. not that you would try to get away anyway. he leans his head down, his warm breath fanning over your ear before he whispers. "you know, if you get the next three questions right, i'll do whatever you want me to. but for now be a good girl and try to focus, alright?"

if that was supposed to help you concentrate, he failed miserably. your breath catches from the deep sound of his smooth voice whispering something so suggestive into your ear and you feel your stomach becoming warmer. your cheeks form a pink tint and you're not sure you can talk so you settle for a weak nod.

apparently that satisfies him, because he makes a aprroving noise and leans back up. with the loss of warmth from him behind you, you can finally breath normally again, trying to focus on the questions to get them right.

it seems the only thing you needed was a little reward for you to get the questions right because you aced three of three like it was the easist thing ever. kuroo's eyebrow arches up in amusement, the small cocky smirk never leaving his face.

"is this all it took for you to study? a promise to get me naked?" he teases, but he seems relived himself you got the questions right. he doesn't have the chance to tease you any further, already being roughly dragged to your bed.

you'd think a 7 feet monster llike sukuna wouldn't even have the ability to get nervous. i mean, what could ever make a muscular, powerful man like him blush?

the answer is touching his arms, apparently.

it was surprising, really. not even during sex would there be any sign of nervousness from him — no blushing, no shivering, nothing at all. and yet when you're laying in bed with your husband, head on his chest and fingers tracing over the hard ridges of his body, something unusual happens.

right when your hand dips to trace the tattoos on his arms, his breath stutters. like full on hitch. you only pause fo a second — resuming when you're sure you probably just imagined it. but then it happens again — you playfully scratch at his arm, and he tenses, a light blush forming on the tip of his ears.

one of his arms reach for your wrist holding you, making you unable to move. "stop touching me woman." his voice has you intrigued — he doesn't sound like his usual threathing self, more like he's on edge, and the pink spreading to his cheeks confirms your thoughts.

slightly shaking out of his hold, you touch him more intentionally — hand trying to wrap all the way around his biceps. "am i getting the wrong impression or do you like your arms touched, ryomen?" when you squeeze the muscle to emphasize your statement, he lets out something that sounds like a gasp, quickly trying to cover it with a grunt.

"i ordered you to stop, did i not, wife?" he doesn't sound mad at all, making no real move to stop you. "but why should i? you look like you're enjoying yourself quite well." sukuna knows that tone all too well — he heard it many times when you're trying to seduce him. this time, you may just get what you want.

"are you questioning my demands?" he chuckles, but there's no humor behind it. with one of his right arms, he takes your jaw in his hand, making you look up at him, menacing eyes filled with a mix of amusment and arousal looking back.

you don't let yourself get intimitaded, moving your head to his shoulder, pressing a kiss right on top, while still keeping your eyes on him. his gaze narrows, but he doesn't stop you yet — waiting to see how far you're willing to take it.

pressing another kiss, this time on his arm, his body tenses. another one, and another one, until you're leaving wet kisses all over his arm — making him grow harder with every one. just when he thinks you're done, you look at his eyes a last time, before biting down at the muscle. hard.

sukuna hisses in surprise, eyes growing wide in surprise for a second. "shit, what do you think you're doing woman, have you finally lost your mind?" but his voice falters when you continue sucking, his breath becoming heavier by the second.

before the situation worsens, making him submit completly to your touch, he grabs you by the hair, pulling you off him, face directed at him. your teasing remark dies down in your throat when you see how wrecked he actually looks — eyes lossing their sharpness, instead wide ones looking at you; a blush spreading all the way down to his chest, wich was moving up and down heavily; his free arms holding the sheets beneath him so tightly, his knuckles turn white.

he truly looked vulnerable for the first time in his long lifetime.

megumi was beginning to regret his agreement to let you do his makeup. he usually got it done pretty fast himself — a heavy black smudged look on his eyes didn't take him more than three minutes.

yet, somehow, he has been sitting still for the past half an hour — curtesy of you wanting to perfect the look. okay, maybe that wasn't the exact reason you were taking longer than needed — but it's not everyday you're perched in his lap, with him looking up at you, hands on your thighs.

yes, maybe you enjoyed looking down at him for once, so what? he just looked so pretty from above — seeing his piercings from another angle wasn't something you thought you needed, but now you can barely look away.

"this is taking an extensive amount of time don't you think?" you couldn't really tell if he was actually complaining, the look in his eyes telling you he didn't actually mind your hands touching his face all over to hold him in place.

you try to smudge the black color some more on his eyelid — the color making his green eyes stand out even more than before. "don't disturb a master at work, babe."

he doesn't really seem to listen, not because he continues talking, but because his hands started running up and down your thighs, softly gripping the exposed flesh. your movements halter for a moment, trying not to get distracted from your boyfriend touching and looking at you like he wants you to be the reason his makeup is going to run down his fac

when he keeps moving his hands all over, you start loosing focus. "stop." you hiss, eyes narrowing when you see his lips form a smirk, lip piercing somehow standing out even more this way. "i'm not doing anything." his voice is husked, like he doesn't even believe himself. and he clearly knows what he's doing, hands covered in cold metal rings, sliding under your shirt, gripping your bare waist, making you gasp — the liner in your hand moving abruptly, almost messing up your hard work.

taking the pen from your hand — he knew you were long done, he throws it on the next piece of furniture, not caing where it lands. "think 's enough, no? let's do something else." you can't really think when his hand wraps around your throat, not choking, just to pull you closer.

when you nod dumbfounded, he pulls you in, lips cashing against yours. your gasp gets swallowed by megumi, his hot mouth never leaving yours. you kissed many times before, but you could never get tired of the feeling of the cold metal on his lip against yours.

you wrap your lips around his percing, sucking on the metal, tongue swiping over the area, making him groan, his grip on your waist thightening. you only stop when you feel him push his hips up, a hardness pressing against you.

when you break apart to breathe, megumi's cheeks are tinted a slight pink — probably not any differnt than you. his chest heavy with pants, already trying to pull you closer like it physically hurts him to stay apart so long.

your arms wrap around his neck, tugging at the hairs on the base of his neck, tilting his head up to have better access to kiss him. your lips touch ones again, this time, your hips move roll against him, making him let out a pathethic whimper he tries to cover up as a grunt. "seems like you need help with something, gumi."

"shut up."

hajime is used to seeing pretty girls all the time. the only issue? they're usally not here for him — it sounds crazy because he's not ugly, but it's the truth, the girls he finds attractive talk to him only to get closer to oikawa.

so yes, maybe he's a bit jealous of his best friend for stealing all the pretty girls, but who wouldn't be? it's not like something he thinks about every single day — only when he sees his exact type march over only to go straight to the star of the game.

he got used to it soon — he doesn't need thousands of pretty fans to swarm him.

imagine his surprise when he sees the girl of his dreams standing infront of him, a picture of him in her hand, waiting for him to sign it afterr a game.

"uhm do you think you could maybe sign this? please." the moment he hears your voice he's already convinced this must be a dream — his eyes move fast to take in all off you, only to come to the conclusion perfection is standing in front of him.

seemingly coming out of his trance realizing he's just staring at you with parted lips and wide eyes, he blushes and tries to speak. "uh— yes sorry sure." he wants to slap himself mentally for sounding so stupid, but he doesn't have anytime because you're already smiling and holding out the pen for him to take.

and if he was red before it doesn't compare to now — his hand touching yours so lightly he wonders if he imagined it. taking a deep breath to try to get his act together he signs the picture — with the pink pen and he almost smiles to himself. you're getting better with every minute that passes.

when he gives you the picture back, he's almost relucant — like he doesn't want the moment to vanish, to lose you forever without even getting your name. "thank you so much, hajime." your voice comes out soft, now he's not sure how he could ever forget this conversation.

he wants to tell you to keep talking, to keep saying his name like that — it never sounded better. but you're already turning away like you're scared of annoying him. so, he does something oikawa would probably clap on his shoulder for and tell him he's proud of him — he catches your wrist right before you're out ouf reach.

it makes you halt right away — and when you're looking at him with wide eyes and glossy lips he almost forgot to talk. "oh u—uhm i'm sorry, you're really pretty do you think i could get your number?" it comes out more confident than before, his heart beating so hard he's scared it might jump out off his chest.

the moment you smile he lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding. "of course. do you have your phone?" hajime feels his confidence come back, his usual lazy barely-there smile on his face. when you take his phone and start tapping your number down with manicured nails he looks at you a last time like he's trying to burn the image in his brain.

you move to give him back his phone once you're done and when he holds out his hand to take it, you move right past it — until you're next to him, pressing the phone to his chest. he's confused until you get on your toes to whisper something in his ear right before vanishing in the crowd.

"i like fancy restaurants and red roses."

he can't respond — not because you're already disappearing in the crowd, but because he thinks you just officially broke him. he stands there staring at the new contact, 'cute girl from the game ' written with a pink heart next to it.

"stop being so nervous sweet girl, it's just satoru." the soothing voice of suguru does not match the situation at all — your legs being held open by your boyfriend who was sitting behind you, with satoru on his knees right in between them.

despite being so anxious, the patch of wetness on your panties was visible to both of them — even more by satoru who was currently fighting demons to not just rip of the lacy material and devour the sight in front of him.

you don't even know if you agreed because of suguru, who was trying his best to convince you, or if you really just wanted to see his best friend eat you out. either way, there's no reason to complain with how satoru looks like he's in pain from holding back.

"c'mon open your legs wider, sweetheart. let him see you, we wanted to teach him, remember?" he's tugging your panties down with one hand, the other pushing your legs apart softly, encouranging you to expose yourself.

deciding to take matters in his own hand due to his impatience, satoru practically rips down your panties, leaving your wet cunt on display — his face so close you could feel his hot breath.

"you going to teach me, sugu?" it's the first time he looks up, probably remembering he doesn't actually know how to do this, despite sounding like more than ready to learn. suguru chuckles at his eagerness, his hands set on the back of your thighs, massaging the flesh gently, in an attempt to calm your nerves.

"patience, satoru. she likes it slow — put your hands on her thighs and leave some kisses." he doesn't need to tell him twice — his grip on your legs rougher than suguru's. he starts placing wet kisses on the inner part of your thighs, the contact making you gasp softly, your back pushing against your boyfriend's chest.

it's not the same as when suguru does it but either way it feels right — his kisses coming closer and closer to your embarassingly wet pussy. "you're doing good, i can tell she likes it. start coming closer but don't be harsh." satoru doesn't respond, but by the way he's moving closer you knew he heard him perfectly.

suguru's hand starts to move to your bra, pushing the straps down, making room for him to grope your tits. it's pathethic really — but the simultaneous stimulation is turning you on more than it should, your hips bucking up in a poor attempt to make contact with satoru's mouth. "poor girl can't wait? don't worry, satoru will help you, won't you satoru?"

"hmm?" it sounds like said satoru is busy staring at your puffy pussy lips, his fingers starting to carefully move up and down, collecting the wetness only to spread it all over again. the sudden feeling makes you whimper — you could practically see suguru's smile. "shit, you hid this from me all this time, sugu?"

satoru sounds genuinly offended his best friend would hide something so pretty from him for so long. "you never asked, though i'm sure my girl thought about it before, didn't you?" he pinches your nipple teasingly, making your back arch against him. "n—no..." your voice falters, suddenly not sounding so confident, hearing both of them laugh quietly like they didn't believe you at all.

"no need to lie, sweetheart. after all, i'm sure satoru thought about it quite often. can't say i haven't." with the hand he used to hoist your leg up, he nudges satoru's head, until his lips touch your clit, a surprised moan escaping you almost immediatly.

satoru groans against your pussy, satisfied he finally got what he wanted. he's not half bad for never having done this before — his tongue moving greedily to suck and lick at your folds. actually, that was a total lie — he's eating it like he's done this a hundred times before, moving from licking at your hole, to sucking on your clit until your writhing and moaning, suguru holding you down.

"use your fingers while sucking on her clit, it makes her cry like crazy." suguru's instructions don't fall deaf to satoru his mouth moving back on your clit, fingers teasing your hole before plunging in one.

your eyes roll back, the stimulation everywhere at once being too much and yet not enough at the same time. suguru puts his hand on your chin, forcing you to look down at the white haired boy currently feasting on your pussy like it's his last meal. "look at him while he's licking your cunt, sweet girl. doesn't he look pretty?"

your eyes sweep over only to see satoru already looking at you through his lashes, his finger pumping in and out of your hole. "y—yeah so pretty..." the intense eye contact is somehow making you more shy than him literally eating you out, your head moving against suguru's chest, turning to the side.

suguru chuckles — brushing a stray piece of hair out of your face, pressing your face closer to his chest. "you're being so good for him, i'm so proud of you." it would be a lie if he said he doesn't love it when you get shy during any type of sexual intimacy, his hard cock being pressed against your backside.

it doesn't take you much to get close — maybe it's the humilation of being shared by two men, maybe it's the way satoru doesn't even stop to take a breath, but either way, time barely passed and you're already instinctivly pushing your hips to grind against satoru's mouth.

satoru makes a sound that sounds like a half-groan half-moan, the vibrations going straight against your cunt. he buries himself deeper, adding a second finger to move inside of you, curling just right. "you going to cum for us, sweetheart?" suguru's hand moved back to grope your chest, massaging the bud between his fingers.

"w—wait i'm g—gonna cum sugu—toru..!"your only response is a cry that turns into a gasp when satoru starts sucking your clit. he moans when he feels your cunt clench around his fingers repeatly. suguru uses his free hand to push satoru's head deeper into your folds, making sure he stays there until you're cumming right on his mouth.

the moment you cum, your whole body twitches, trying to move away from the pleasure, if suguru wouldn't hold you in place."that's it sweetheart, just like that." a second later satoru feels you cum around his fingers, his mouth staying on your clit until your body relaxes against him.

only then does he take his mouth and fingers off — his eyes staying glued to his wet fingers like he himself can't believe it was his doing. he looks up, not without putting his fingers into his mouth to suck off the liquid on his hand until it's clean.

your body is limp against suguru's, trying to catch your breath, while satoru looks like he's about to go in again. "looks like you aren't half as bad, satoru." suguru teases, his hands caressing you faintly, while placing soft kisses on your naked shoulder and neck.

"want her to suck you off now?" it was supposed to be a somehow sacrcastic question, but the glint in his eyes makes it look like he wouldn't be against it.

"only if you get on your knees too."

"can you not be hard for one minute?"

"you're looking at me while i'm naked, how am i not supposed to be?"

i mean maybe he has a point. but it's not like you're trying to be a pervert or something — your professor's assignment was clear: drawing male atonomy.

while he didn't mention a live muse, there was no harm in seeing the real thing, right? well, apparently sukuna thought can you be my naked muse was some code for let's have sex.

imagine his surprise when he arrived and there was a canvas infront of the bed. it didn't take much convicing for him to do it either way — if there was one thing the man was confident about it was his nude body.

what he probably didn't expect was that he actually had to stay in the same position for atleast an hour — atleast to have a rough sketch. the other problem? he definetly should not be hard — there's no way you're submitting a drawing of a hard man to your professor.

"sukuna this is serious — this is worth half my grade! can't you think of your grandmother or something?" you were frustated, and yet at the same time somehow flattered — it only took you looking for him to get painfully hard.

you can hear a quiet groan, right after his hand moves to adjust himself in a poor attempt to push away his boner. "trust me it's really not that easy. he was excited since you asked me to come over."

if the situation wasn't as serious as it is you would probably laugh at the pained tone of the fratking infront of you. you put your pen down, looking at the process — you were almost done, the only boddy part missing was his dick.

the drawing was beautiful — you're not sure if you're to praise or if it's the prettiness of sukuna. " i think i'm gonna hang it above my bed once it's done." it was meant to be a fleeting comment but when you hear a frustated groan coming from the bed you look up confused.

"are you serious? i was about to go flaccid before you started talking about hanging up my dick picture." you can't help the giggle escaping you at his genuinly pained voice. "what are you giggling about? this is your fault."

standing up from your chair you take off your drawing shirt — it doesn't seem like you'll come to the dirty part of drawing any time soon. "if you think undressing infront of me will help the situation i'm sorry to dissapoint." you smile, continuing to take of your pants now while looking at sukuna who doesn't think he's ever been more confused.

only when you're in your bra and panties you start to move — crawling on the bed, right between the legs of your naked muse. his eyes are set on yours, bewilderment written all over his face, but he doesn't stop you.

you part his legs, hands resting on his thighs, before moving your face down until he can feel your cold breath on his tip — his cock twitching in excitment.

"if i suck you off, you'll stop being hard, no?"

the sight was unusual — but when he's all dressed up to represent the gojo clan? you think you've never seen such a beautiful man in your entire life. you're not even sure there is anyone who could compare.

it always happens as a suprise, something you didn't excpect when you came home that day. he's infront of the mirror adjusting the piece of clothing, trying to make it look perfectly neat for the clan meeting.

as for you? you're not sure air is being delivered to your lungs — because he really does look like an etheral greek god who decided to grace the earth with his presence.

he only notices you when you're standing behind him, locking eyes through the mirror, his small playful smirk forming on his lips. he turns around, wanting to greet you, talk to you like he always does when you arrive home but everything he had planned to say is forgotten when he sees how you're looking at him.

there's no time for him to reconnect his thoughts — you're already walking towards him, eyes darting up and down like you cant decide where he deserves to be looked at the most.

you settle on his face — which was coated in a faint pink from the wordless admiration he was receiving. not a word was spoken between the two of you — yet he felt like you whispered a row of flithy fantasies right in his ear.

he feels his breath halter when your hands touch his shoulders. your eyes are still fixated on his while your hands move down to explore the muscular body hidden under his haori.

when you finally speak, satoru is not sure how much he can take of this heated intimacy. "you really are mesmerizing, satoru." his breath shudders — the way you're saying his name like you're trying to seduce him with just words instead of taking of his clothes makes him weak in the knees.

every spark of playfulness he had before was extinguished, replaced by a hot and heavy look in his eyes. "yeah? you think so?" his voice comes out much quieter than he wanted it to, the usual authority crumbling away piece by piece.

he should somehow be embarrased to be this far gone by a mere compliment and a few touches but he doesn't find it in him to care. and you don't think there's anything more arousing then being able to bring the strongest so easily to his knees.

you pull him to the bed with a gentle grip on his wrist, any strength not needed with how willingly satoru was following behind. it takes zero resistence from him for you to push him down, letting him fall on the soft bed.

he expects you to follow — for you to get on top of him, sit in his lap. instead you lean down, standing between his open legs, just enough for him to feel your hot breath on his neck. your hands are back on his chest, moving like you're trying to prove a point.

when your lips touch his neck he thinks he's really died and gone to heaven. his hands are gripping the sheets, as if he fears if he touches you, you'll dissapear. his head falls back, giving you more room to worship his pale neck with pinkish marks to claim him.

satoru doesn't think he can last long like this — the length between his legs aching to be touched, not used to the attention anywhere but there.

a quiet whine escapes his mouth, almost so quiet you're not sure you imagined it. but when he pushes his hips up in a desperate attempt to get some kind of friction you know you didn't misshear it.

"do you need something, toru?" your voice sounds like a seducing tactic to him and suddenly he's not sure he didn't marry a succubus. your small, distracting kisses on his throat don't help at all — he's not sure what he's begging for either but he knows he wants, no, needs something.

"please. i- please touch me. it hurts— i need you." maybe he'd normally be ashamed to be caught begging like this — being so desperate for his wife's touch, but the only emotion he is capable of holding right now is a heavy want.

you listen — after all, you're not trying to punish him, no the opposite — you want to show him just how ravishing you think he is. your mouth is back on his neck, sucking on the skin until he gasps and a repeated quiet plea is heard.

he seemed to distracted to notice your hands undoing his clothes, not taking them off complety, only pushing them to the side to bare him from the chest to his thighs. only when you lower your mouth to his naked chest, the sudden hot kisses on his muscles making him let out a surprised sound.

you're slowly sliding down, until you're right on your knees between his body. he finally looks down, his eyes half-lidded, chest moving harshly with every intake of air. he's not sure if he should continue looking at you looking up at him on your knees, the sight making his cock somehow harden even more.

when you start kissing his inner thighs he chokes on a whine — he's trying to be good, to not push your head where he needs you the most. the marks you're leaving on his legs make him shudder, getting more and more anxious the nearer you're getting to where he's aching.

the moment your hands tug at his waistband he's not sure he's even breathing correctly anymore. his hips move up on instinct, the movement memorized from the many times you did this before — but somehow he's never felt this vulnarable before.

he's fully exposed now — his cock almost an aggressive shade from all the teasing, and yet you don't think you've ever seen such a pretty dick anywhere else. it's a light pink, the base being hidden with white hairs, the tip a darker shade, pre cum leaking from it like he can't hold it in any longer.

"so pretty." it slips out before you can stop it, the murmor loud in the silent room. satoru wants to say something— anything, but he doesn't have any time to, your mouth already licking the very top.

a broken moan leaves his mouth the moment your tongue touches his tip — and now he doesn't know how long he can last before painting your throat white, the pressure already there.

he's not used to this — not used to coming prematurly, not used to being so vulnerable while being sucked off. "w—wait please — no— wait don't stop feels s'good." there's no sense in what he's saying, his voice trembling with every word.

you have no intention to stop, bringing your eyes to look at the man falling apart bit by bit, just with your tongue. if he was pretty before — he doesn't compete with now, his eyes teary, mouth slightly open, chest moving quickly up and down.

your gaze shifts to his hands, which are gripping the blanket so hard, his knuckles turn white. with your free hand — the other being occupied with stroking his shaft, you take his, putting in on your head. now he knows he won't be able to hold himself together for long — his hand holding your hair tightly in a makeshift-ponytail.

his senses are overstimulated — it's too much, he doesn't know what do with himself, the feeling of your hot mouth around him, making him unable to think clearly.

"i think i—i'm not gonna last— if you keep doing t—that." he's struggling to even talk, his free hand moving to cover his mouth, trying to stop the sounds escaping him — wanting to mantain a small amount of control.

you take your mouth off of him for a second, catching your breath — it's long enough to make satoru whimper at the loss. before you get back you tug his hand away from his mouth — the man looking at you with furrowed eyebrows.

"hand off, i want to hear you or i'm stopping." his hand vanishes almost instantly, not daring you to stop. the pink on his cheeks worsening when you start kissing his white pubes.

your tongue moves from up, to down to his balls — sucking on them, making him choke on a groan, his hips pushing up involuntary at the new sensation. it's something he never felt before — the feeling much more intense than he expected.

suddenly, he's gasping and moaning, his head falling back, eyes squeezing shut in concetration — you can feel it, feel how close he is, how his cock is twitching against your hand, so you give him the final push.

your mouth moves from his balls up, licking a strip until your back on his tip — sucking at it greedily, the loud moan from satoru telling you he's about to cum. he's pushing himself down your throat, the hand in your hair gripping your hair so thightly it almost hurts — with a final moan he comes, right down your throat, a hot wave of sticky cum to swallow.

his whole body is tense — until the last bit of cum comes out, only then does it relax again, slumping against the bed sheets. his hand releases your hair, cock going softer in your mouth. you lick the remaing cum from his dick, making sure everything is clean before moving up to crawl on top of him.

he's out of breath, but still strong enough to wrap his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.

sukuna was tired of the bitchy girls he always had to deal with — wether they were from a one night stand or a girl that got hooked from his flirty antics, it always ends the same way — he rejects them and they run off to start rumors.

so yeah, he was done with girls. okay,maybe not completely, he still had some late night fucks after a party, but not without making clear that's where it ends. but other than that, he basically quit the game.

imagine his surprise when he fell in love with a stranger not even a week after that. yes, you heard that right, he the playboy himself fell in love. no less than with a girl he didn't even know before.

it wasn't an extraordinary day or night, just their usual frat parties where half the campus would come to drink or make out with someone. except this time, his eyes landed on a woman who couldn't look more out of place — even while being dressed up all pretty, a look on her face like she couldn't wait to get back home.

if someone told him that not even ten minutes after spotting you, he would have a conversation about how he had the perfect nipple atonomy for piercings, he would laugh or look at them like they were crazy. except this time, he's not laughing.

"i'm serious, have you never thought about it? they are like the perfect size and color." he's unsure how to respond — he's not even sure if he should answer at all.

"...no? i mean maybe? like one or two times." his usual confident, flirty voice falters, like it's the first time a girl talks to him without showering him in compliments. like he's expecting you to laugh it off and tell him you're joking.

well, you're not. "you probably should, dude. but don't let the same piercer as the one who did your eyebrow piercing do it. it's really off center." sukuna takes in second to replay your words in his head, and when they finally connect, he looks like he aged ten years.

"excuse me?"

you don't seem to notice his passive aggressive tone, or you just blatantly chose to ignore it. "yeah it should be way over here. yours almost looks like an centered one." you apparently also don't notice the way he genuinly flinches when you reach to point with your finger at the right placement.

he doesn't even try to look or understand where you're poking him — he's just looking at you with a dumbfounded expression. and god knows why, he felt fucking butterflies in his stomach, a warm feeling spreading in his chest.

there's just no way he, out of all people is feeling a spark because a girl is criticising his uneven piercing. he pushes the thoughts aside and a small smirk forms on his lips. "you know, that's not how i thought the conversation was gonna go."

and bless your heart, because you genuinly have no idea what's strange about this conversation. "oh, i'm sorry, did you want to talk about something else?" you sound extremly worried all of a sudden, like you didn't mean to hurt his feelings.

your strange personality doesn't seem to shy away the man infront of you — no, he's even more intrigued now. "how come i don't know the name of such a pretty girl?" it's supposed to be flirty, but sukuna should probaly have known better.

"that's probably because we never talked before. usually people tell you their name when you meet for the first time. otherwise people may think you're stalking them because that's kinda creepy knowing someone's name without asking y'know. but i know you're sukuna, not because im some weirdo who's stalking you it's just you're known as the community dick no offense intended."

the more you ramble on the more sukuna looks like any hope he had to take you to his room left his eyes. he probably should've known you wouldn't take the hint — definetly his fault. after a second of processing your speech his eyebrows shoot up in a mix of confusion and offense?

"...community dick?" his mouth open and closes like he wants to add something to his queestion but he has no idea what to say. the worried look on your face returns for the second time this evening, realising you're talking before thinking.

"no, yes, kind of? there's like nothing wrong if you like pleasuring women , actually that's like really nice of you, it's kinda empowering y'know like feminist and all."

any sign of seriousness leaves his expression and a rare sight for the fratking — a genuine laugh escaping him at your poor attempt of sweet talking yourslef out of calling him a slut.

there aren't many moments where sukuna actually really laughs when talking to girls — a charming smile being all it takes for most to drop their panties.however, it seemed like you had no interest in dropping anything at all.

except for your drink.

right on his bare chest.

it was an accident — truly, someone shoved you off balance and your drink spilled right on his abs, the sudden cold liquid making him hiss at the contact.

his eyes look down at his muscles seeing them drenched in a sticky substance, the alcohol making it's way down to wet his pants.

you gasp, hand covering your mouth. "oh my god — i'm so sorry. there are like no napkins anywhere near— wait i have an idea." he's about to tell you it's no big deal, he was shirtless after all — he could just jump into the pool or whatever but he stops dead in his tracks when you bend down.

right until you're face to face with his stomach.

he's about to ask you what you're doing — but freezes instead the moment your tongue darts out to lick the drink. "wh-what are you doing?" he sounds genuinely at a loss of words. you only answer after making sure no liquid would have time to go under his pants. "all good! your pants are totally save now no worries."

well he is worried — just not about his pants, but the boner he hopes you won't notice. he's unsure if this was supposed to be some kind of seducing tactic — but looking at your innocent expression he discards that idea. you really had just licked a man who you met ten minutes ago and looked like you had no idea how it looked to anyone watching.

there's a rare pink tint at the tips of his ears and he opens his mouth to say anything — but closes it once he realises he has no clue what to say. he also really doesn't know if he should feel as turned on as he is.

"thank you..?" it comes out like a question, like he's unsure if he should be thanking you. you're either ignoring his bewildered expression or you just don't even notice it at all.

"you're welcome. no prob." there's a moment of silence, neither of you knowing what to say until he breaks it.

"so is there a chance i can get your number?" to make sure you understand where he's going with this he adds, " romantically."

birthday boy satoru

satoru never really celebrated his birthday — atleast he stopped once there was no one left for him to celebrate with. for him, it was always just another ordinary day, nothing special. the only one who even knew was probably shoko.

so, when he finally met you, he never told you when it was his birthday — it's just something he started thinking of as unimportant. imagine his suprise when he arrived home from a tiresome day of teaching — the whole house decorated, a fresh smell of sweets hitting his nose the moment he entered through the door.

and when he saw you stand there, a selfmade cake with his name and a heart on it? yes, he may or may not have started crying — scratch that, full on sobbing, the type where you fall on your knees if someone doesn't hold you.

he never told you his birthday — you just knew from looking through his things, assuming he probably didn't want to talk about it, because if he wanted to he would have. so you did it quietly, never mentioning it to him, getting the whole thing ready in a day — hiding his gift for a whole week was not easy.

if that wasn't enough to make him tear up, the cake in his favorite flavor and perfect sweetness might be the cherry on top. you barely had time to put the baked goods down safely before he was already holding you so thightly you thought you couldn't breathe. and for some time, the only thing you did was hold eachother — not letting go until satoru himself decided it was time.

his usual playfullness was nowhere to be found, just pure gratitude and adoration. the arrogant facade fading away and being replaced a raw honesty and a shaky body. he knew he loved you — but that day made him see it so clearly, he started thinking how he didn't realise it sooner.

and yet this year — you're the one crying. he finally reached the thirties he was so scared of — but this year, the celebration was silent. you still baked a cake, much smaller than usual. because this time, only one of you was eating it.

the graveyard was quiet — you were the only one there at this hour. you stared at the grave the name of your beloved engraved in the cold stone. the tears started falling before you even sat down next to him — it wasn't the dramatic kind you had that day, no, you already accepted what had happened. these tears were because he was supposed to be the one eating the cake — making a stupid joke while holding you in his arms.

sukuna's voice was unfairly sexy. and when i say unfairly i mean it's really unfair to sound so hot when asking or saying something that should be normal. he doesn't really understand where you're coming from — but you swear his voice lowers anytime he's serious, with that sharp edge and yet trying to sound gentle at the same time.

his voice usually sounds the hottest when you're injured — doesn't really matter if it's because you fell on your own or someone else hurt you. when you're alone with him for no one else to see he sits you on the couch and knees infront of you — something he would never openly do infront of anyone but his wife — taking your injured ankle in his hand, analysing the severity of it while literally talking you through it — asking questions almost tenderly.

you're sitting there silent, appreciating the situation even while being hurt — it's not everyday he's so compassionate. the man inbetween your legs is gently touching the wound, thumb brushing where it looks the worst. and then like always, his voice dips deeper like he's more bothered — maybe even worried, about you being in pain than yourself "does it hurt here?" his fingers thighten just enough for you to feel the pressure, making you nod with a frown on your face.

"what about here? it hurts, yeah?" he's applying the same pressure and it stings way worse than the other point — you wince, leg flinching slightly at the feeling — it's not a obvious movement but he notices anyway. "mhmm i see. my poor wife. i will get uraume to tend to your injury. after you're done i excpect you to come find me and tell me how you're feeling."

there it is — his voice sounding strangely comforting for such a scary man — but there's nothing scary about the way he gets on his knees to tend to your injury, or his almost soft voice distracing you from the pain. and somehow, your cheeks getting warm from the intensity of it — the tone he's using usually reserved for the bedroom and yet — it has the same heat.

megumi with a feminine girlfriend <3

when megumi told his friends he was dating you, the first reaction was pretty much the same for everyone — a mix of 'no way' and 'i don't believe you'. the worst part? he couldn't even blame them.

megumi would describe himself as introverted and probably pretty anti social. so when you walked up to him one day and started talking to him like you knew him for years? yeah he knew he was a goner. but honestly he never understood it — you were so beautiful, pink and glittery. him, on the other side, looked like he didn't know any other colors other than black and blue.

and somehow, he still fell inlove with you. he realised it soon when he missed the splash of vivid colors in his dorm or the sweet strawberry vanilla scent you left anywhere you went.

imagine his shock when you, yes you, confessed to him first — your eyes glassy like you were actually scared he might not feel the same way. and yet, the only thing he noticed in that moment was how cute your lips looked with the pinkish gloss.

when you started dating, no one really noticed the change — you always used to kiss his cheek even as friends, and he didn't go around to brag — not because he was ashamed, but because he always was one to admire you quietly. he never hid the relationship, he just didn't announce it shouting like yuji would.

so, when one day, when you joined megumi at training, which doesn't happen often, chaos unfolded. you strut down to watch him train in the sun, your pink customized uniform (curtesy of gojo) shining in the sun. megumi didn't see you immediatly, too focused on fighting off maki.

after the sparring match (which he lost) he finally saw you — sitting on the bench with some kind of iced drink. taking a break, he walked over to you, a small smile on his face at your obnoxious waving. "what are you doing here? i thought you went shopping." he takes the drink you're silently offering him, taking a sip from the sugary liquid. definetly your taste.

"hey babe! i was, but after i bought three bags my arms started to hurt so i came back. i found these really cute purple heels that match that skirt i bought last week, do you remember which one? oh and i also found these new gloss that tastes like strawberry..." he's listening to you rambling off about whatever you bought today, following your every word with quiet acknowledgment.

"do you have the new gloss on right now?" his question throws you off, making you halt your story telling. "yes how did you know? wanna try it? i have it in my bag!" while your searching your bag — which was filled with sweets, lipgloss and perfume, megumi's eyes don't leave you. he doesn't even realise maki is yelling at him to come train until yuji shouts like a gorilla making him jump.

"can i try the gloss?" the question would be weird for anyone else but you always make him put on some to 'taste test' it. "i'm not finding it right now ugh and you have to go—" he cuts you off with a direct kiss on your lips. right there in front of everyone — you swear you hear nobara gasp.

either way, you kiss him back, the gloss transfering onto your boyfriends mouth. it's a rather quick kiss, not wanting to put on a show infront of everyone. when he pulls back his forehead against yours, his breath stutters. "it tastes nice."

wearing sukuna's kimono

you're laying in bed naked, hair messed up, still out of breath. sukuna is laying next to you — the only proof he actually was the one who just fucked you in seven different positions for hour the sheer layer of sweat covering his body.

he definetly wasn't worn out like you, so he stood up without speaking, leaving the room to get you a glass of water presumably. the silence isn't anything new — he never talks much after, preferring to let the comfortable quiet settle in.

while your laying in bed sprawled like a starfish waiting for your lover to return, a cold wind from the open window endulges you, making you shiver, goosebumps forming on your bare body.

you could either wait for your husband to come and save you or get up and put on the first thing you saw. deciding for the latter after another blow of cold air, you push yourself up, feet dangling from the bed.

with another push you stand up, legs still sore, making your way to the wardrobe. you were to tired to search for something of yours, taking the first soft material your hand grazed in the dark space — only when pulling it out you saw what it was — one, probably sukuna's favourite, kimono.

you never wore his clothes — not because he forbid it,no, just because there was never the need to. he always bought you everything you asked for and more, even your own fair share of kimonos, and he was always the one dressing you after sex — if needed. thinking about it, you probably really never wore a piece of his clothing. would it bother him?

shrugging off the internal debate, you opt to just put it on. i mean, he's your husband after all. slipping your arms through the white sleeves, the clothing way too big for you, you wrap the kimono around your body. his smell hits you almost immediatly, like it was reminding you whose robe you were wearing.

waltzing back to the bed, falling onto the soft matress you look at the ceiling. the cold air was still blowing in from the open window, but you weren't shivering anymore now. there isn't much time to settle in before the door opens again, the over 6'6 men standing there with a glass of water.

he doesn't see his clothing on you until he moves closer, the matress dipping from his weight when he sits down. the room wasn't illuminated enough for him to see — but now when he turns to look at you, his sharp eyes freeze. you can't read his expression, the way he's looking with such an intense gaze raking over your body has you second doubting if you made the right choice.

you're waiting for him to break the silence, but when he doesn't you talk to him with a soft, almost unsure voice. "it was the first thing i grabbed, if it's not to your liking for me to wear—" you don't finish talking, his arms reaching out to touch you, pulling you in by the waist.

sitting you ontop of his lap, the kimono covering your whole frame, one of his hands grabs your chin, making you look up to him. "if you truly think i would forbid my wife to wear my clothing, you really are foolish, brat." it's the first time he's spoken since he entered the room, his voice rough and commanding despite having talked so quietly.

there's no time to think or speak, with the way his arms are moving all over your body — one slipping under to caress your naked hip. "soo you like it?" your tone is light, meant to be teasing, but he doesn't have his usual smirk he has when he's amused.

"wearing the king's attire makes you the queen, don't you think? you marked yourself as mine." he murmors against your ear, his hot breath hitting you, the possesive edge in his voice making you understand what this was about. if that wasn't enough, the feeling of his bare cock hardening under you, confirming your thoughts — he was getting turned on from this.

"i already was yours,no, my lord?" it comes out breathier than you intented to, the conversation making a blush form on your cheeks from the intensity. the grip he has on your hips thightens, before he ultimatly decides to flip you over on your back, him ontop of you. "you mortals are really getting bold claiming such titels aren't you?"

the degrading way he was speaking to you wasn't his cold mannered one — it was the one he used when he knew he was about to lose his patience and was waiting for you to give him the permission to. "only when i know you like it." he found the confirmation he needed — his eyes finding yours, hand roughly holding your cheeks in his hand without actually hurting you.

it's no surprise that sukuna does not shave. i mean have you seen him? there's just no way a man like him would waste time doing something so meaningless. especially because he knows how much you like it.

everytime it always happens the same way — you're laying in bed with your husband, your head on his chest — the closest you will come to him cuddling while you're still awake.

you're casually tracing shapes on his arms, chest wherever you can reach comfortably — he would never admit it but the feeling of your fingers caressing him so softly makes his usual tense body relax.

"are you done petting me like a dog?" there's no real bite to his voice — quite the opposite — he sounds like he's almost purring but trying to show he doesn't actually enjoy it.

you just hum, ignoring him, letting your hand trail down his chest, stopping to touch his chiseled abs, appreciating the view. your eyes trace down lazily, taking in the v-line dipping into his boxers.

but your eyes get stuck on something else — the thick pinkish hair going from his bellybutton all the way down to his waistband, dissappearing under the material. lowering your hand to touch the hair with your pointer finger, you start playing with the hair, moving up and down — even pushing down his boxers a bit to have better access.

"i love your hair. it's like a map leading to your dick." the way you say it so casually has sukuna almost choke on his breath — which doesn't happen often. he looks away from your face to look at the hand touching him, the sight making his cock twitch in his underwear.

"i'm trying to sleep woman, stop talking about my cock." the bulge forming between his legs is almost ironic. ignoring his weak protest, you lower yourself until your face to face with his happy trail. when you give the hair a small kiss he visibly tenses, a grunt escaping his mouth.

you don't stop at one peck — your lips moving from the top down until you reach the waistband of his boxers. "so pretty." you sigh against his trail — and sukuna? he has no idea how to react — he's not used to women swooning over a patch of hair on his stomach.

ignoring the obvious boner, you continue kissing and licking, making him groan — his dick aching, begging to be touched. "want to see where the trail ends?" his voice is rough, hands moving to push your head down.

Your phone was propped against the car, camera facing you and Choso. You start the video, your boyfriend sitting there looking nervous, cookie in hand. "Hey guys, today me and my boyfriend are trying the new crumble cookies." Said boyfriend waving shyly at the camera a small smile on his lips, while you talk excitedly about the food.

Not wasting any time you take a bite of your cookie — Choso does the same, until you both swallow the bite. Finally getting to the main part of the trend you pull him in, kissing him right on the lips, phone still recording.

He lets out a quiet moan, hoping the video wouldn't catch it, putting his hands on your waist from across the seat. Poor Choso didn't know you wouldn't stop at a simple french kiss like everyone else doing the trend.

Your lips move against his greedily, chasing the sweet taste of the cookie in his mouth, tongue battling with his. Twisting your body to face him you crawl from the passenger seat to his, right on his lap.

The kiss continues, every soft sound escaping him getting swallowed by you. "Mhmm—." Choso was always a sucker for kissing, slowly but surely getting worked up from making out.

Well, before it could get to the good part, you pulled back teasingly, making him whimper dissaprovingly — his hands still thight on your waist.

"We have to finish the video Cho." You move back to your seat acting like you didn't just physically and mentally torture your poor boyfriend, who was still flustered, cheeks tinted pink.

It seems your voice tore him out of his little daydream, suddenly remembering the long fogotten cookies.