⟡ seraphym (se-rah-fim). i go by sera (se-rah). she/her. nineteen. chem major. EMPLOYED. total and complete yumejoshi.
⟡ hello! welcome to my blog. i am a full time student and i also work, so this is just a hobby/outlet for my most inner feelings. but i swear to write with love and dedication to my art! i have been writing for about three years now. although i never really posted, i do want to write more often.
⟡ satoru’s one and only angel. > <⸝⸝
⟡ est. feb. 08, 2026 <3
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౨ৎ p r o m i s e : i tend to write in an ambiguous manner to avoid the characterization of the reader unless it is specified in the intended pairing (usually and most likely in the preface of my post). but i do write for the portrayal of a feminine essence. i do not write for a complete male audience as i am not comfortable writing on something i am not sure of!
౨ৎ r u l e s : minors, pls dni with my mature content. if you are homophobic, racist, ageist, and/or supportive of what is going on in the world, please feel free to block me. i do not tolerate any kind of negativity, especially towards the people whom i care about (aka everyone).
౨ৎ m o r e a b o u t y o u r a n g e l : intp, albedo and ga ming lover, though a neuvi, flins, and skirk main (i adore genshin, 5 year player heh..), advocate and biggest enthusiast of s . gojo (obviously), aquarius baby, shoegazer, vkei enjoyer, classical book reader, left eyebrow piercing haver, and dr pepper drinker. I LOVE WHIRR & ETHEL CAIN.
do not be shy, i am the shy one!! i want to be mutuals?? ok!!?
commissions: open
*note: i write about anything! nsfw included. i do not kink shame, and with that, as a writer, i do have a boundary of not writing about age gaps (illegal), non con, incest, and other tags. i can try! shoot me a message or an anonymous prayer.
tag list: open
i really want a community, don’t be shy to message me! i swear i am a weirdo.
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you hate when gojo calls you cute, so he decides to take the compliment a little lower instead
warnings. dirty talk, fingering, cunnilingus, teasing/attitude, praise, pet names, established relationship, Gojo ignores you and talks to your kitty meow meow instead, the silliest premise ever just walk with me okay. nsfw 18+ mdni.
✎ Words: 1.6k | Ao3 | Masterlist
──── ୨୧ ────
You were a sight for sore eyes - splayed over the fresh sheets you’d just tugged on, shirt shoved up just enough to expose the soft curve of your belly, rising and falling with each fevered pant. Your face burning hot, buried beneath the crook of your arm where you’d tossed it over to hide your broken expression.
Then of course there was the way your needy cunt was sucking in your boyfriend’s fingers, clenching around the length of thick digits like you were made just to take them.
He’d been working you up slow and sweet, your orgasm blooming hotly in your lower stomach like the winding pressure of a coil. Your eyes - low lidded and glossed over with pleasure - tracked the steady motion of his wrist as it dipped between your thighs, locked in a desirous trance so consuming that when he slipped out, you actually growled a little at the sudden emptiness.
Gojo chuckled, petting teasingly at your entrance. He smeared the little beads of slick there with the pads of his fingers, admiring the sight of you soaked and spread open for a few indulgent moments before they finally dipped back inside.
“Cute,” he praised, and even blind you would have known that he was smiling, you could hear the way it curled the vowels - quirked in that taunting little way of his.
You felt a little pang of irritation through the haze of desire at his choice of words, incessant and grating like a tiny grain of sand. Your boyfriend was generous with praise, and typically you enjoyed it no matter his choice of descriptors - ‘beautiful’, ‘gorgeous’, hell, even ‘hot’ had its perks. But ‘cute’? Now that was just demeaning.
“Don’t call me cute,” you grunted, fighting the urge to let your eyes roll skyward with each precise curl of his fingers, “Hn-… especially not like this.”
Gojo frowned, plump lower lip pushed into a pout.
“Why not? You are cute.”
Before you could bite back with some sarcastic retort of your own, his palm pressed flat and you jolted with the sudden contact, jaw slack as he began to rub slow circles over your clit in time with the curl of his fingers. You choked on your next breath - the resulting sound was nothing more than a high, staggered gasp.
Your hand shot from its previous position clutching the sheets to instead grasp at his forearm. He gazed down at you through half-lidded eyes, arctic blue melted into something soft and sweet as he watched your lashes flutter, watched you squirm, smiling all the while.
“See?” He persisted, rhythm slowing slightly just to let you feel the controlled jump of muscle in his toned forearm beneath your trembling grip, “Cute.”
His touch was lethal - petting that sweet little spot so deep that it made your vision wobble and your toes curl where they were planted atop the mattress.
“Such a j-huh-jerk…” you managed, fingers digging tightly into his wrist like it was a lifeline.
Your thighs were beginning to tremble, twitching either side of his forearm as he expertly worked you open. Each curl, each pump accented by a slick squelch that had your face and the tips of your ears burning.
“Well that's not very nice,“ he huffed, though the obscene massage of his fingers didn’t cease or slow an inch, “here I am trying to give you a compliment, and you insult me. For shame, princess.”
“Look,” he continued, slipping his fingers from you just far enough to let you watch the way your slick soaked the length of them, pearly strings lacing you together. “And I’m treating this needy little pussy of yours so nicely, too.”
He tutted, muffling your own strangled sound as he slid back inside with a slick ‘plap!‘, and resumed the steady pace, the broad flat of his palm kissing your sticky clit with each pump.
“At least she appreciates me, isn’t that right?” He murmured, pout still painted thickly through his tone.
You rolled your eyes, lips parted to scold him for daring to bring up another women while he was wrist deep inside you. But when you tilted your head to meet his gaze, you found that his own eyes were down turned - locked on the slick space between your thighs where his fingers were disappearing instead.
Your brows twitched, knitted together in a heady cocktail of confusion, annoyance, and red hot desire. Was he really?…
“Satoru-“
His spare hand lifted to cut you off, finger wagging teasingly, which did nothing to settle the irritation flaring in your chest.
“Ah-ah-ah,” he tutted with a lazy shake of his head, “shhh, can’t you see I’m having a conversation here?”
You must have clenched, must have tightened around him without thinking, because his grin only spread that much wider. Pearly whites glinting as he bent at the waist - craning his head lower and lower until he was hovering between your thighs, eye level now with your pussy.
“That’s it sweet girl, nearly there,” he cooed sweetly, so close that you could feel the cool puff of his breath with each word, sending a prickle of goosebumps over your slippery thighs.
Was he really ignoring you to sweet talk your goddamn pussy instead?
You groaned - a noise which you intended to be one of disapproval, though with the pleasure burning hotly in your belly, the sound that actually escaped was decidedly more desperate.
“That’s it, keep squeezin’ me. Yeah, just like that, you got it.”
He shifted then, changing the angle ever so slightly, and the resulting effect was a vulgar sucking noise - a ‘shlick!’ ‘shlick!’ ‘shlick!’ that filled the air with each drag of his digits against your clenching walls. Just when you thought you couldn’t get any more mortified, you heard him chuckle, the sound thick and honeyed against your burning ears.
“No need to be so loud, baby. I know, I know, just feels so good huh?”
You’d have been more upset at the blatant disrespect, the embarrassment coursing like lava through you - if it didn’t have the desirous ache in your core burning ever hotter with each new syllable slipped from his traitorous lips. If he didn’t have you teetering on the edge of what was shaping up to be an earth-shattering orgasm just from his deft fingers and a little ignorance.
The incessant motion of his wrist alongside the outrageous fact that he was actually whispering sweet nothings to the space between your thighs, had you throbbing, nudging your hips up to chase the friction of his touch.
“Satoru, stop it,” you hissed with no real bite. Your grip on his wrist loosened, fingers slipping as the waves of pleasure lapping at your belly crested ever higher.
He paid you no mind - azure eyes still lowered, still murmuring a string of filthy praise to your drooling pussy like you weren’t even there. His velvety voice lowered to a sinful purr, a whisper - as if you were nothing but an outsider eavesdropping on a private conversation.
“What’s that? You want a kiss?” Came his sudden vocalisation, voice lifted in mock surprise, and the bastard actually leaned in to listen as if he was going to hear anything but the obscene sound of his fingers splitting you open.
You swallowed hard, then bit your lip as you watched him move, skin pressed between your teeth so hard you thought you might draw blood. His expression was soft, pupils blown wide and dark behind pale lashes as they traced the shape of your swollen folds. He craned his head downward, breath blowing cool over your tender skin, and you could barely hear the next words he spoke over the sound of your own pulse pounding hotly in your ears.
“Think I can manage that,” he murmured lowly, tongue darting out in a tease of pink slip to wet his lips, “better not tell my girl though, ‘kay?”
You watched his eyes flutter as he closed the space between you, and your own rolled to the back of your skull when the wet heat of his mouth finally hit you.
“Oh god, Satoru!-”
The burst of sensation stripped the words from you. He pressed his lips flat in a seal over your mound, and immediately began to suckle. Tongue swirling like he was trying to nurse straight from your goddamn clit, fingers still prodding that silky little spot inside.
You choked on your next breath as you tumbled over the edge, orgasm hitting you like a crack of lightening. You could feel yourself clamping around him, pulsing with each throb of pleasure as he worked you through it. His fingers curling, jaw diligently rolling in steady little circles until your writhing ceased, and you stopped twitching beneath his tongue.
“You’re ridiculous,” you panted when you’d finally recovered enough to remember how to actually form words, glaring down at him like your gaze could actually hope to kill, or at-least injure. “Aren’t you even a little embarrassed?”
He met your fire with an even coolness, offering you a sparkling smile as he lifted his head and licked his lips pointedly, spare hand pressed to his chest in mock offense.
“You wound me, princess,” he grinned, flashing you with a wink positively dripping in Gojo-branded charm, to which you simply rolled your eyes.
“Anyway, you might not have approved,” he drawled, hand teasing down your thigh where your own slick, and now his spit, were smeared, “but she loved it.”
With his hand planted firmly in the sheets, he lifted himself to his knees. It was then that you realized just how much your little performance had affected him. You took in the sight - soft grey sweats tented and dampened at the center in a slick little patch where he’d rutted against the fabric.
His eyes were dark when they met yours again, half-lidded and hungry as he lowered himself to grind against you, tight and hot - letting you feel every thick inch, pressed to your twitching thigh like a promise.
“C’mon now,” he murmured, voice gravelled like tattered velvet, “her and I have lots more to talk about.”
────────────────
oooohhhhh it’s been so long since I wrote gojo, how r we feeling gojo nation? 😛🤭 wrote this while rotting in bed sick so pls ignore any mistakes <3
- satoru gojo firmly believes eating pussy is a form of art…
wc: 1.0k || not proofread
contains: x fem!reader, oral (r receiving), pet names (baby, sweets, pretty,) squirting, aftercare if u squint, i think that’s it
note: im so v sorry for my weird release schedule, ive been dealing w my mental health issues and stuff. i’m also sorry if this isnt good 😓
note 2: happy 4/20!! 🫰🫰
____
"i mean, you can get messy with it, you can take it slow— hell, you can even hold hands!" he drunkenly explains, beer sloshing in its can as his hands fly around. "it's the best thing ever."
…
messy with it…
"oh.. mfgh… slow dooownnnn!"
satoru's head shakes against your sex— spit, wetness, squirt, a mixture of all three pooling under your ass and dripping down his chin as he eats you out.
"taste soo fuckin' good." his words are muffled as he attempts to shove his face deeper into you, tongue dipping in and out of your cunt as it slides along your slit, often circling around your clit.
satoru pulls back just an inch to spit a nice fat glob of salviva onto your clit and watch it dribble down your soaked folds
his hands hold your thighs pinned against your chest, your knees nearly reaching your ears. your hips would be bucking and rutting against his face if it wasn't for his tight hold.
"satoruuuuu!! 'm gonna- ohhh…." your words trail off and your thighs begin to tremble under satoru’s palms.
"yeah? gonna cum?"
with a faint nod of your head, your eyes roll back and you cum with silent gasps of air, squirt gushing in the same rhythm satoru's tongue moves.
satoru's tongue slows and he loosens his grip on your thighs, thumbs caressing your smooth skin.
"you okay, baby?" he whispers, pressing a soft kiss on your ankle as he extends your leg. you couldn't even bring yourself to answer, eyes still squeezed shut with your chest heaving.
satoru bends low, hand traveling to extend your other leg as he does so. "i've got you.. just relax." he whispers even lower, pressing a soft kiss to your chin as his hand caresses your skin.
…
take it slow…
satoru worked his lips from your lips to your cunt. soft plump lips making a quiet smooch with each kiss planted on your skin.
"toru.." you whine and buck your hips as you feel his tongue flatten against your swirled navel. "shh.." satoru's tongue drags further and nudges just against your throbbing clit.
“tryna take it slow f’you..”
you let out a quiet gasp as satoru dips lower, tongue gathering the wetness that drips to your taint and licks all the way up to your clit where his lips suction around the bud.
a whine leaves your lips and you buck your hips, jaw slacking open as satoru stuffs his face into your sex as close as possible, tongue moving slow with heavy pressure.
"oh god.. satoru…"
your moans are breathless as satoru's large hands grip your hips and guides you through rolling them, bright blue eyes locked on your face the entire time. "doin' sooo good for me, pretty" satoru mutters as he pulls away just an inch before latching right back on
you could only gasp and arch your back, pleasure spreading all across your body. "toru.. feels so good…"
satoru hums in response and the vibrations only cause more pleasure that makes you whine and make your thighs tremble as they rest on satoru's shoulders.
"i know, sweet girl. taste like fuckin' candy-"
satoru's words make you whine once more, fingers snaking into his white hair and tightening.
"satoru-" you whined, back bowing as his tongue continues lap up and down with pressure. "mmm.." your hips roll in a circle in the hands of satoru, his tongue dipping lower and sliding into your cunt.
satoru lets out a low groan, digging in deeper so his nose presses against your clit.
curses float in the air from your lips, your back bowing as the pleasure spreads and increases.
"'s so pretty f'me."
his words are muffled, but god the vibrations from his voice and the way his eyes look into yours is enough.
"toru…" the back of your head meets the mattress. "'m gonna cum.."
so he doubles down— grip tightening, mouth suctioned, and thick tongue sliding up and down your dripping folds, mainly focusing on your clit.
your thighs shake on his shoulders as you cum, back bowing and mouth gaping in pleasure.
"toruuuu-" you croak, tears stinging in your eyes as his tongue slows but the pressure he applys increase. "mm- i got you." he mumbles, words barely reaching your ears as he continues his slow, sensual assault.
…
holding hands…
"cmon, pretty, lemme hold your hand— thaaat's it." satoru coo's, breath grazing your already throbbing clit. your hand slowly slides into his, your warmths merging together.
the tip of satoru's tongue sticks out to lay a slow kitten lick on your clit, blue eyes watching your face contort and jaw slack.
your hand tightens and breath hitches.
"just relax. i got you, baby."
satoru's tongue darts out further, laying a proper lick from your cunt right to your clit.
"toru.."
satoru mumbles a 'shh…' hand squeezing yours as his lips suction around your clit, wispy white lashes batting up at you. satoru pulls back, tongue licking from your dripping cunt to your clit where it circles around the bud.
"so perfect f'me." he whispers, mouth moving to suction and suck on your lips, tongue sliding right down the middle and dipping into your wetness.
your back bows off the mattress from satoru's actions, hand squeezing his with a new force.
satoru hands were definitely going to be aching from the way youre squeezing them, but it's honestly not your fault— with the way satoru focused on your clit, his pretty pink lips suctioning around your swollen bud with only one sole purpose: to make you cum.
"sa- ah! satoru!" a gasp moan mixture leaves your lips, intertwined fingers starting to ache as the pleasure only increases.
satoru only hums into you, diving a little deeper with a shake of his head— eyes still trained to your face.
with one more hum from satoru and one more suck on your sensitive clit, you cum with a cry and shaking thighs, hands of course still squeezing your boyfriends.
"thaaat's it.. cum for me, pretty." satoru mumbles, now pulling away to lick all your juices and cream as your body still shivers from your orgasm.
opening the letter satoru wrote to you before he died part two if this
to my beautiful wife,
if you’re reading this, then the time has finally come. i don’t mean to sound dramatic, but i always knew i’d die from something that wasn’t natural causes. people have been at my neck since the day i was born. this was expected.
even though it was expected, that doesn’t mean it’ll hurt any less. i’m sorry for leaving you all by yourself. in our vows, i promised i’d be there for you in sickness and health, for better or worse. death made us part too soon. we never got to buy that beach house on the water. we never got to start the family we joked about at 2 a.m. we never got to just be long enough.
you always said you knew what you were signing up for by marrying me, but did you really? did you know there was a clock constantly ticking over our heads, a timer we didn’t know how or when it would end, threatening everything we’d built together—even when we acted like we didn’t hear it? marrying me was a gamble. it’s selfish of me to think so, but part of me is glad you took that gamble on me. i’d marry you over and over again if i could. i’d spend a lifetime chasing the little time we had, to replay it, to rewind it over and over again.
speaking of being selfish, don’t feel guilty if you ever decide to move on. i know that might be the furthest thing from your mind right now, but i’d like you to consider it. there’s so much more life left for you to live, so many things to do, places to see, people to meet. i’d hate for you to experience it alone. my personal interests aside, the last thing i’d want is for you to be lonely. you deserve all the happiness in the world, even if i can’t be the one to give you it.
i keep thinking about you reading this. about what your face will look like. i wish i could see it, honestly. i wish i could be there to tease you for crying over me again, to pull you into my arms and tell you it’s not that serious even though it is.
and if you’re angry at me… that’s allowed too. you don’t have to be soft about it. you don’t have to forgive me on my terms or in my time. just don’t shut yourself off completely, okay? i couldn’t stand that.
at the bottom of my nightstand, there’s a wooden box. inside of it are letters. i wrote to you every single day after our wedding day. i wanted to leave you something to remind you of how much love i have for you. you don’t have to open it right now or read them all at once. just know that they are there, just like my love for you always will be.
love,
satoru
p.s. you technically inherit my secret candy stash. don’t eat it all at once!
a/n: i tagged people that i think would like this esp my moots that did, don't jump me xx (i thought it was a good idea then i realized how many of you there were but it was too late) + thank you @shhhhhhxoxo125 for the idea of making a part 2 😢
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summary: in which you fail the system —and he breaks his own rules because of it…
tags/cw: MDNI, lawyer!higurma x secretary!reader, f!reader, secretary movie (2002) vibes, darker themes, slight angst, S&M(sadomasochism), bondage, established consent, higuruma is MEAN, spanking, self pleasure, sexual tension, obsessive behaviours!
꣑ৎ a/n: this is my submission for aly’s (@sugusplaything) super cool 1K event!! #justthisonce (she’s a genius and we love her over here)
check out the rest of the event here! (very yummy fics by very talented writers over there TRUST)
she said messy and hot encouraged and i RAN with it ✶ inspired by this post from the amazing yoonie goonie @yoonsucks !! <333
w/c: 2.8K
You made another mistake.
Whether it was the way he completely dismissed your entire existence or treated you as more of his maid than secretary or the fact that he never actually cared for you.
To him it was like you weren’t even there.
From the way he would immediately send you back to your tiny desk to work on the endless piles of papers that “needed submitting immediately” or needed help “arranging important meetings” for him that you’ll never be attending.
It was getting monotonous like there just always was another chore lined up for you straight after you finished the first.
It was a cycle of the lawyer you worked for throwing all the responsibility onto you and him never showing any gratitude for your hard work.
Hiromi Higuruma, the city’s “most proficient lawyer” proclaimed to be the single-handedly “delivering justice” to every and every case he has ever taken on.
In comparison to the flawed lawyers of today, warped in their own misjudgment of fairness, he was the lawyer that cleaned up after the failures of the system and brought justice back the people of the city to make everything right.
If only they knew that there was just one little flaw.
How could a lawyer be so unjust to the person who practically kept his own firm running by typing up every single document he sent out?
Was that your job? Sure.
But did he really even need a typewriter?
Typewriters went out of style many years ago with the huge developments in technology that slowly took over the world for its usefulness, its efficiency and its extreme accuracy.
Not that you were complaining though, it’s safe to say you were absolutely desperate for a job in hopes of gaining some experience for when you properly make your debut in the working world.
That was all this meant to you.
Despite typewriting being an outdated form of communication, you had taken the time to learn in a few years ago, developing another “useless” skill that you never expected to be of any use.
You had found ways to be truly undedicated to your job as his secretary, whether it be through half-assed reports and not reading whatever you were signing off to solely using your job as an outlet to gain more experience for the future ahead without giving it a second thought.
It wasn’t like morale was ever raised by an uncaring boss who never cared for your work, his cold demeanour only making him a closed door you couldn’t even knock.
You still remember the loud slam of him slapping down the piece of paper onto your desk earlier this morning, startling you from the little doze off you were having whilst still on the clock.
Turning your head slightly to be met with a clearly tired gaze, you would have felt slightly bad for it all if he didn’t quickly redirect both of your attention back to the small red circles that were littered all across the page of the script you had recently handed in to him only a few minutes ago.
The red ink of the marker pen practically jumped out of the page in judgement to shine unnecessary light on your habits of typing far too fast and never bothering to do the normal checks before handing in the documents.
“Is it such a hard ask that I request for all my documents to be proofread before handed in?”
He was so close, his chest practically pressing up against the back of your chair, your slumped position automatically straightening up into perfect posture, the sudden proximity of it all suddenly making it impossible for you to breathe.
Mr. Higuruma kept a firm hand on the paper sitting in front of you, making it clear that his question was rhetoric by the way his stare remained on the page beneath his fingers then back up at you as if utterly disgusted with the harmless slip-ups of yours.
“You are a smart girl, and a lot more capable.” he leaned in closer to whisper in your ear, an indirect jab at your intelligence much less your abilities to give in a proof-read script.
“It was just a few mistakes, It's nothing too serious honestly.” you responded almost too casually before awkwardly laughing it off as if every attempt of yours to try relieve yourself of the close proximity of your boss didn’t already fall flat.
Since it wasn’t really that big of a deal, was it?
He did not seem to find it as funny though, that permanent unamused look on his face shouting nothing but exhaustion to which he watched as your laughter slowly died down into a practiced silence.
“Nothing too serious.”
He repeated your answer to himself a couple of times as if testing the validity of your words through his voice before ultimately deciding that you were completely wrong.
“Nothing too serious? This work ethic of yours is disgraceful.”
“You want to start about my work ethic-” you swivelled your chair to face him properly now, looking him straight in the eye, so close to letting him know what you really thought about work.
Nothing was amusing about the nerve he had to outrightly insult you when you have been carrying the company on your back for months, running errands 24/7 and even staying late on some nights to finish up typing a script he would need in the morning.
But truly you knew fully well that he was completely right.
“We don’t need to “start”. You are simply a lousy worker,” he stated almost matter-of-factly, letting the hard truth sink into your mind only to follow it up with his true intentions on the matter. “And I value my reputation as a lawyer so shape up.”
“So why don’t you just get a computer then?” you answered back, speaking under your breath as if he was going to fire you on the spot.
It confused you why he would open a position for a typewriter and then complain about the human error bound to occur.
“You should probably invest in one, I’m sure it will do you a much better job than a lousy secretary.”
Computers never make any mistakes.
Clearly having struck a nerve from the way you found yourself pointing out the obvious in the same way your insecurities were being pointed out by Mr. Higuruma, it was apparent that you cared far more about your job than you thought you did.
But it wasn’t like you didn’t know his reasons, fully understanding Mr. Higuruma's traditionalist approach of business from the first day of working for him where when asked by you why he even needed a typewriter in the first place, had claimed that “professionalism is preserved through hard work”, and therefore refused to use computers since it “ruined the effectiveness” of his work.
It was nevertheless infuriating how inattentive he could be as an employer despite his rather eccentric personality and it all definitely seemed to be getting to you with the way you were - as he would say “acting out”.
“See, another error like this from you will lead to serious consequences.”
Mr. Higuruma pointed a stern finger back to the page of shame before leaving you with that one last warning, walking off back to his private office at the end of the corridor.
Whether his “serious consequences” meant being fired or not, it wasn’t like you cared much anymore, after all he would be showing much more attention to you than normal even if it was him telling you to clear your desk and leave.
So you made another mistake.
On purpose.
“Enter.”
You knew he’d noticed by the way you heard the intercom crackle on not even two minutes after handing in the paperwork you had type up again - a firm request to return to his office immediately.
Whether it be the demanding tone of his voice where you just knew he was gritting his teeth and seething in total frustration that got you quite aroused, thighs crossing over each other as if trying to contain your excitement.
You could just tell from the strain in his voice over the speaker that he had obviously detected your “errors” and definitely wasn’t happy.
“Do you understand why you have been called back here?” he sternly asked as you stood in front of his desk awkwardly, finding it hard to actually believe that your boss had called you back in to scold you for your “mistakes”.
Why did you have to love it?
You knew exactly why he had called you back, only to be confirmed by the massive red circle drawn over the centre of the page he placed on his desk, a smaller circle around where you had “accidentally misspelt” vindicated - as per his request - with an additional k in the middle.
It wasn’t like he could possibly prove that these mistakes were actually deliberate no matter how intentional they may appear to him.
“Uh is it because of- ” you started, quickly looking away from the paper sat on his desk, giving off your best impression of innocence in the face of being trialled by your boss.
“Great. So you aren’t completely clueless.” he sharply cut you off before you even try explaining yourself, sitting back to holding his chin thoughtfully as if carefully choosing over his next words.
“Did you know that you are tampering with what could be classed as solid evidence to an ongoing case?”
Initially you were made aware of the fact that as secretary of a lawyer that you were entrusted with confidential information of many clients as a typewriter under law company but never once had thought ever crossed your mind that those letters sent to other law firms could possibly be classed as “evidence” in any actual cases.
“Perverting the course of justice is a crime, a punishable offence of up to 2 years in custody.” he continued on as if you weren’t already deeply regretting your decisions, nervously watching the bob of his neck as you could await what he had in mind for you.
But before you could even begin to apologise for your “childish” actions, he was already rummaging through the bottom drawer of his desk, fingers pushing past his metal cup of red marker pens to reach for something else before sitting up straight to face you.
“Don’t you agree there has been a lack of focus with you these days?”
Mr. Higuruma appearing to have moved on swiftly from the current topic whilst you left, standing awkwardly before his desk, mind still stuck on the “crime” you have seemingly just committed and wondering if he was planning a speech to fire you on the spot or even worse, turning you in for your actions against the law.
“Listen, if you need assistance you could let me know instead of these childish games you seemingly love to pull.” he started now looking up and directly at you after raiding his drawers, he was clearly searching for what you could only imagine were the handcuffs he was going to put you in now, taking you in personally for your “breach in confidentiality”.
You were meant to be his assistant goddammit!
Clearly having failed at your job by allowing your desperate seek for his attention to let all this get far out of hand, in which you were now going to be taken into custody by your own boss.
The same man who you would have died to feel his touch on your skin but never would have imagined those same hands being used to place yours in cuffs.
He circled around his desk to stand behind you where you couldn’t even bear to turn back and look at him, eyes clenched tightly together as if choosing to reject all of what was happening in the last remaining moments of your “freedom”.
“Straighten up.”
You couldn’t even tell if he meant that literally or in a figurative sense with the unchanging tone of his voice but nevertheless found yourself automatically fixing your posture at his sudden demand, refusing to show any resistance in fear of the possibility of lengthening the sentence that already awaited you.
“Chin up for me.”
His command made your jaw lock with how frighteningly strict he was but also how frighteningly seductive his voice sounded directly in your ear, leading you to gently lift your head to follow the hand that brought your chin up.
On the nape of your neck, a new sensation could be felt tickling just below your hair, nervousness unmistakable for the cold metal that now connected with your skin but not exactly where you had thought it would be…
It wasn’t nearly as important as the feeling of him pressing up behind you but not before bringing your chin up to come face to face with him, gently asking you for permission to do as he saw fit with you, with you naturally granting him the go ahead to do as he pleased.
Your body was quickly brought closer to his chest, arms raised up as your wrists were slowly eased into the cuffs of the brace, cool touch of his hand tracing over your palm all the way down to the fingertips you wished that could feel, your fast typewriting making them go all numb.
Hearing the clasp close around your wrist with a notable click that ringed in your ears, his hand remained right on your neck, holding tightly enough to keep you stuck in the place he wanted you in.
“Hands on the table. Now.”
“What are you?”
“Your secretary!”
“My secretary isn't lousy." he reminded before delivering another harsh slap to strike against your exposed skin.
Tears start to blur your sight. You found yourself biting down on your lip harder, knees buckling beneath you at the sound of his voice, shameless in the way you were laid out so messy for him.
As if the pencil skirt you decided to wear today wasn't already short enough and riding up the sides of your thighs as the cold air attacked your skin, you could feel his growing erection against your ass, only things separating you two being his pants and your underwear.
“Slacking off on the job as if you get paid to sit around and do nothing!
Smack!
“Inappropriate behaviour in the restrooms of your own workplace.”
You bit down on your lip to suppress your moan in remembering the incident where you had let it all out.
You needed his attention and unable to handle the overflow of emotions you were feeling after a long day of typewriting at your desk - not to be called to his office even once - you decided to take some of the edge off assuming all the stalls were empty.
Smack!
You feel your face heat up as the tears begin settling on the tips of your lashes but as you try to bring yourself to speak up - to give your rebuttal to his words - but only breathless gasps manage to escape past your lips.
Slap!
“Ah-! Mr Higuruma you don’t get it!”
“You cry much like a whore who makes such obvious mistakes.”
You wondered why it thrilled you so much, whether it was the way he sounded like he had you all figured out or how he was quick to call you out for your flaws, all if it meant he got to help you with the corrections.
“You’ve got what you wanted now, haven’t you?” he grumbled underneath his breath where instead of hearing the classic belt buckle, you hear the sound of his shirt rustling as he began rolling up the cuffs of his sleeves from behind you.
“How could I possibly discipline you-” he leans down lower to speak into your ear - delivering another delightfully painful smack to your ass. “If you seem to love every punishment I give you.”
That was when you started hearing it, quiet groans and grunts from behind you followed by the sounds of wet messes to be made - a mess you couldn’t get in on.
“You needed this, didn’t you?”
“Mmh!” you muffled too quietly, receiving another firm smack this time landing on your poor cunt.
“Answer me.”
Screaming out to him, you suddenly hear his breaths start to quicken in pace, his head tipping back to squeeze and rub against himself as you were forced to survive the agonising mission of not getting to take a peek of your boss standing behind you.
It was safe to say that you weren’t going to be making any “spelling mistakes” from now on and will be double proof-reading each document before turning them in unless you needed some discipline to set you straight again…
He knew he should have done the right thing, follow the law and turn you in.
But how could he possibly report you when he could have you like this whenever he pleases?
(っ. -。) sleeping in with husband toji & baby gumi! ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁
the cold weather had your family under a sleepy spell.
it had become so hard to get out of your comfy, fluffy and warm bed in the mornings lately.
especially when your human heater of a husband always had you tucked in between his arms, his giant leg thrown over your hips, nose pressed against your hair, breathing you in.
your own personal weighted blanket.
the alarm blared on your nightstand. you blearily opened your heavy eyes, unable to move under toji’s heavy weight.
“toji,” your sleepy mumble is barely audible, but your husband’s sharp instincts catch it anyway.
“mm,” toji’s chest rumbles, resounding his deep hum. the sound warms you up, making you scoot closer into him.
“we need to get up,” you continue, struggling to stay awake and formulate thoughts.
toji’s hand starts moving, pressing a button on your phone to silence the alarm. it then reaches the back of your head, caressing gently.
you sigh contentedly, breathing in your husband’s scent that feels like home.
how were you supposed to get out of bed?
you felt yourself drifting off again, against your better judgement.
your husband’s hand caressing your hair also started slowing down as you both fell back asleep together.
and then the alarm went off again, barely ten minutes later.
your eyes felt heavier as you tried to open them, sleep trying to hold onto you as tight as your husband was. you forced your mind to stay awake, knowing you needed to get up and get megumi soon.
you tugged at toji’s massive biceps, firmer this time.
he groaned before nuzzling his head into your neck, “five minutes, doll.”
you turned your face sideways, pressing a gentle kiss on his temple, saying, “get off me.” it came out as a gerroffme.
toji squeezed you in response.
you patted his cheek, the contact making a soft noise.
“get up, please,” you tried again, “need to get gumi.”
at that, your husband reluctantly retracted himself, allowing you to get up. but as soon as you got out of bed, a shiver traveled down at your spine from the pressure on your bladder. holy.
you turned to head to the bathroom but at that moment, the baby monitor started echoing megumi’s cries.
“toji,” you whined, squeezing your thighs together in urgency, “get gumi please.”
toji blinked his eyes open, slowly processing your words. before he was fully awake, you had already dashed to the bathroom.
he would’ve just gone back to sleep if not for his son's fussy crying. with a heavy sigh, toji threw the blanket off of him and got up.
it took him a few seconds too long to get out of his warm bed, but he pushed himself off anyways, heading to the nursery.
with every step he took, his mind became clearer and his eyes less heavy. but there was still one thought in his mind.
get back in bed with wife.
so, with a newfound determination, toji threw open the nursery door, beelining towards his baby.
"let's get you ready for bed, brat," toji mumbled, picking up your habit of talking to the baby as if he could understand you. "y'r mom would beat my ass if i left you alone and made her fall back asleep. but we're sleeping in today, got it?"
megumi, confused but content with the attention, just cooed, putting his fist in his mouth.
toji pulled megumi's hand out, striding towards the changing table and laying him down on it. he quickly put megumi into new diapers, cleaning as he went, all while making small talk with the baby.
"you sleep ok?"
"da!"
"mm, me too. y'r hungry, right?"
"uwaa?"
"'course you are." a beat of silence. a sleepy sigh. "i miss your mama."
"mama!"
toji's lip quirked at his son's giggle as soon as he heard the word mama. that boy had him wrapped around his finger, as much as he hated to admit.
finally done, and also hearing you flush in another room, toji picked megumi up and laid him across his shoulder.
he left the nursery, walking back to your shared bathroom just as you were exiting.
"good morning," you cooed at megumi who immediately leaned towards you, wiggling in toji's arm. you dutifully took him into yours, cradling him how he liked being held.
"mama," megumi babbled, tugging at your shirt.
"aww, you're hungry?" you cooed again, automatic baby voice slipping past your throat.
"nurse him in bed," toji's hands grasped your shoulders, turning you back around towards your bedroom.
"why?" you didn't protest, letting your husband steer you back in bed.
"we're sleeping in," he announced, arranging a barrage of pillows at your side so you could sit and nurse comfortably. he helped you settle in, pulling up the blankets so you were warm and cozy.
"we're literally awake," you laugh under your breath, letting your husband do his thing as you started nursing megumi.
"not for long," toji said, slipping in beside you, scooting so he could throw his arm across your lap and burrow his face in the side of your hip.
even megumi's tiny eyes started fluttering close as he fed, fists balling on his chest as he began drifting away mid-meal.
you let out a yawn, finger gently rubbing your baby's small, cherubic face. toji squeezed your hip.
soon, megumi was fully asleep.
no longer able to fight the sleepy bug, you pulled your camisole back up, laying megumi down between you and toji.
toji scooted to accommodate the baby as you lowered yourself on the bed, pulling up the covers.
your husband, once again, threw his leg over your hip, pulling you closer.
megumi was almost smushed between you two, his back to his dad while he held onto your shirt in his sleep.
toji extended his arm and you adjusted your head on it.
at long last, the three of you enjoyed a cozy, warm and sleepy saturday morning, huddled close together.
signed up for a uni course and the class is from 7am every saturday 😊 if im posted up like a vengeful spirit roaming tumblr, you know why.
megumi's clingy phase | masterlist | megumi has a nightmare
Sypnosis: When Sukuna’s sweet little sister walks into Choso’s quiet tattoo shop on a rainy night for her first ink, she expects nothing more than a simple lotus on her ribcage.What was supposed to end the moment the session was over turns into something neither of them planned.
cw: (mdni. 18+) cunnilingus (f receiving), p in v sex, pussy slapping, spitting, unprotected sex, creampies, soft aftercare, love bites, choking, mating press, dacryphilia, corruption kink
a/n: y'all this is my entry in @sugusplaything aka my mootie dearest Aly's # Justthisonce event which is also my first ever event!! If y'all don't know Her, y'all are missing out on some of the best jjk fics out there so please go check Her out! She's one of the best ppl on tumblr and one of the sweetest people on tumblr I know. Literally my day 1 person. I'm so so so happy I got a chance to participate in this event 😭💗! This fic took me years bcz I was so jittery and wanted everything to be perfect. First time writing Choso I hope y'all like it <3
Choso stared out the window, slumped in his chair. The lights of his tattoo shop flickered a little overhead, his rotary tattoo machine held loosely in one hand.
The rain pattered softly onto the glass, fogging it up. The world outside blurred, something distant. Almost Ethereal. Streetlights bled a warm gold through the misty haze, laughter drifted faintly from somewhere down the road.
And then–a click.
Choso turned towards the door, hoping for the usuals. Frat boys maybe. Or those typical middle aged men. The ones who looked like they picked fights in some sketchy bar or an alleyway, smelled of cigs and bad decisions. Faces he wouldn't remember twice.
Instead, he saw you.
Eyes darting around nervously, hands holding the strap of your pink purse a little too tightly. Wearing a cute white skirt and a pink sweatshirt looking so out of place..
Sukuna’s little sister.
A strange mix of wariness, nervousness, and something dangerously close to excitement stirred low in his chest. He sat up straighter, setting the machine down carefully.
“…Hey,” he said quietly, voice low and a little rough from disuse. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
"H-hi" A beautiful red hue flushed your cheeks "I uh.. I'm here to get a tattoo.." You shifted from one foot to the other. Eyes looking at everything but meeting his gaze. Somehow the fact that it's him made a fuzzy heat spread in your body.
The guy you've been eyeing for months. Who shows up in every frat party your brother hosts. The same guy who somehow infuriates your brother without doing anything. Always lingering near. Never drinking, never too loud like the others. And somehow that made him a mystery you wanted to know more about. And soon, that curiosity might just have turned into feelings you'd rather not name just yet.
"First time?" Choso's voice came out gentler than what he meant it to be. It filled the air between you two with something comfortable and warm. He gestured vaguely for you to sit on the chair in front of him, offering a small smile.
Your shoulders–tense the whole time–relaxed a little. "Yeah, it's my first time getting one", you said after sitting down, pulling out your phone to show him the design. It was a lotus. Simple yet elegant. Perfect for a small first tattoo
" Mhm, beautiful design. So where do you want it?"
"The ribcage.. " Shyness filled you as you averted your gaze towards the floor. The thought of Choso being so close to you filled your mind with thoughts you're definitely not supposed to have.
"Got it. Just pull up your shirt, yeah? Don't be nervous about it. It will hurt a little. But trust me, m'kay?" His voice, warm and soothing, calmed you a little. The way Choso said it made you almost immediately pull up your shirt. An instinct to obey him, let him guide you started to take over your mind. You quickly brushed those thoughts off before your shyness could expose you.
One of those large muscular hands rested on your waist while the other traced the tattoo on your ribcage. Even through the gloves, you could feel the warmth of his hand against your skin.
A soft sigh left your lips as Choso's hand absentmindedly caressed your waist. Whatever remnants of the pain you were feeling soothed at his careful gentle touch. Your head tipped slightly backwards, the grip on your shirt loosening a bit.
“Gonna need you to lift this a little higher,” he said, eyes respectfully averted until you did. He was so close you could smell his faint woody cologne mixed with the shop’s ink scent.
“Hold still for me,” Choso murmured, breath ghosting across your waist as he leaned in closer to add the finer details. His free hand rested lightly on your hip to steady you. “Breathe slowly… that’s it.”
Every tiny buzz of the machine made your stomach flutter, and you swore you could feel his heartbeat in the air between you.
You couldn't stop yourself from taking a glance at Choso. Hair tied in a messy bun, brows knit together in concentration. The sharp features of His face, the way his eyes were locked onto the tattoo made your heart skip a beat. He was handsome. Devastatingly handsome.
Just then Choso glanced up at you. Your eyes met. And neither dared to look away. The machine finally went silent.
Choso set it down slowly, his gloved fingers brushing over the fresh ink one last time as he wiped away the excess. His other hand stayed resting on your waist, warm and steady, even though the tattoo was done.
“You did good,” he murmured, voice rougher than usual. Still neither of you moved.
And just then, Choso pulled away and you immediately missed his touch. But not for long. Removing those gloves and tossing them somewhere, Choso gently tugged at the hem of your shirt you were still holding up. "May I?" His eyes were practically pleading—desperate—for more. You nodded.
That was all it took.
Choso pulled you closer by the waist and kissed you—deep, slow, and hungry. His tongue slid against yours, not rushed, but thorough, like he wanted to memorize the taste of you. You whimpered softly into his mouth as his large hands roamed: one squeezing your breast with surprising gentleness, the other sliding down to cup your ass and pull you flush against the obvious bulge in his pants.
When you finally broke apart, both of you breathing heavily, a thin string of saliva connected your swollen lips. Choso’s eyes were blown wide, but there was something softer underneath the hunger.
When you finally broke apart, a thick string of saliva connected your swollen lips. Choso’s eyes were completely feral, pupils blown wide with hunger.
“Fuck… I need you,” he rasped, voice wrecked. “Please, baby—let me have you. I’ve been dying to taste this pretty pussy since the moment you walked in.”
Your whispered “Don’t hold back” was all it took.
He shoved your skirt up tore your soaked panties clean off with one sharp rip! The cool air hit your dripping cunt, making you clench around nothing. Choso groaned low at the sight, licking his lips.
“Shit… look at you. Already fucking dripping for me and I’ve barely touched you.” His thumb dragged slowly through your slick folds, spreading you open. “Such a messy little cunt. All swollen and needy just from my hands on your waist.”
Before you could answer, he dropped to his knees, threw one of your legs over his shoulder, and buried his face between your thighs. His tongue was hot and relentless—lapping broad stripes up your slit before circling your swollen clit with filthy precision. The wet, obscene sounds of him devouring you filled the tattoo shop.
“Mmm—fuck, you taste so good,” he moaned against your pussy, the vibration making your hips jerk. “Sweet as hell. I could eat this pretty pussy for hours.”
One thick finger teased your entrance, then pushed inside, curling hard against that spongy spot that made stars burst behind your eyes. He added a second finger quickly, scissoring you open while his lips sealed around your clit and sucked.
“Cho—! Oh my god—” you cried, thighs shaking.
“That’s it, baby. Say my name while I fingerfuck this tight little hole,” he growled, pumping his fingers faster, curling them mercilessly. “You’re clenching so fucking hard around me. Greedy cunt doesn’t wanna let go, huh?”
Your moans grew louder, hips grinding desperately against his face. Choso pushed your thigh higher, spreading you wider so he could bury his tongue deeper, licking and sucking like a man starved.
“Fuck, darling… can’t even finger you properly when you keep squeezing me like that,” he panted against your thigh, lips shiny with your arousal. “You gonna cum on my tongue? Gonna make a mess all over my face like a good girl?”
The pressure coiled tight in your belly, heat flooding every nerve.
“Cho—! I’m— I’m cumming— fuckfuckfuck—!”
Your orgasm crashed over you hard. Your walls pulsed around his fingers as you gushed against his tongue, thighs trembling violently. Choso groaned loudly, licking up every drop like he couldn’t get enough, his own hips grinding against nothing.
When you finally came down, panting and dazed, you looked down to see Choso still between your legs, face glistening with your slick. A huge wet spot darkened the front of his pants—his cock twitching visibly as cum leaked through the fabric.
He’d cum just from eating you out.
Choso’s ears burned red as he noticed you staring. He looked away, embarrassed, but you gently cupped his chin and tilted his face up.
“You really made me cum in my pants like a fucking teenager,” he muttered, voice rough and husky, a shy smirk tugging at his lips despite the flush on his cheeks.
You smiled, still breathless. “And you loved it.”
“Fuck yeah I did.” His eyes darkened again with fresh hunger. “Now let me return the favor properly.”
He stood, shoving his pants and boxers down in one motion. His cock sprang free—thick, veined, and monstrously big, the flushed tip already drooling fresh precum in heavy rivulets down the shaft.
You swallowed hard. “S-so big…”
Choso chuckled darkly, wrapping one hand around the base and giving himself a slow stroke. “Yeah? You like how fucking huge it is, baby? Don’t worry… this little pussy’s gonna take every inch. I’ll make it fit.”
He grabbed the backs of your thighs and folded you in half right there on the chair, spreading you wide open. The blunt head of his cock nudged against your soaked entrance, teasing your fluttering hole.
Then, with one powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt.
A broken scream tore from your throat. “Cho—! It’s too big— fuck!”
“Shhh, you’re taking me so well,” his voice strained as your walls clenched around his thickness. “Look at that— your pretty pussy’s swallowing my cock. So fucking tight… sucking me in like it was made for me.”
He didn’t give you time to adjust. His hips snapped forward, pounding into you with deep, brutal strokes that made your tits bounce wildly with every slam. One hand reached up to squeeze your breast, pinching your nipple hard.
“Fuck, these tits look so good bouncing for me,” he whimpered, leaning down to suck a mark onto the soft flesh. “Gonna fill this tight cunt up. You want that? Want me to pump you full until you’re leaking my cum?”
“Yes— please—!” you sobbed, nails digging into his shoulders.
“That’s my good girl,” Choso rasped, his pace turning punishing that belied the gentle way in which he handled you. “Gonna ruin this pussy for anyone else. Only my cock’s ever gonna feel this good inside you again.”
You could barely answer—just broken moans spilling from your lips as he drove into you harder, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the quiet tattoo shop. Every deep thrust made your walls flutter around his thick length, sucking him in like you never wanted him to pull out.
“F-fuck, Cho— too deep—” you whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders.
“Yeah? You feel that?” He groaned, one large hand sliding up your body until his fingers wrapped gently around your throat—not squeezing hard, just a firm, possessive hold that made your pulse race under his palm. “This tight little cunt is gripping me so fucking perfect. Like it was made to take my cock.”
He leaned down, teeth grazing your collarbone before he sank them in, sucking a dark love bite into your soft skin. The sting mixed with pleasure made you clench harder around him. Choso hissed through his teeth.
“Shit— do that again. Milk my dick just like that, baby.”
His hips snapped faster, the blunt head of his cock bullying that sweet spot inside you over and over. His free hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit. He pinched it lightly between thumb and forefinger, rolling it, then gave your puffy folds a quick, teasing slap that made you jolt and cry out.
“Ah—! Cho!”
"Look at this pretty pussy snapping around me every time I slap your clit,” Choso groaned, voice low and rough. “So fucking messy… dripping all over the chair. You love when I play with it, don’t you?”
He pinched your clit again, a little firmer this time, while still thrusting deep and steady. The combination had your eyes rolling back, legs shaking in his grip.
“Answer me, sweetheart,” he murmured, loosening his hold on your throat just enough for you to speak. His thumb stroked your pulse point tenderly even as he fucked you senseless. “Tell me how much you love my cock. Please I want to—hah—hear you say that. In your pretty voice”
“I— I love it— fuck, I love your cock— please don’t stop—” you sobbed, tears of overwhelming pleasure clinging to your lashes.
Choso’s eyes darkened with pure hunger for a moment—something almost feral flashing across his usually calm face. He released your throat only to latch his mouth onto the side of your neck, sucking another claiming mark while his fingers kept tormenting your clit—rubbing tight circles, then pinching and flicking until your hips bucked wildly.
But then his movements slowed just a fraction. He pressed his forehead to yours, breathing hard, voice cracking into something softer even as he kept moving inside you.
Tears spilled freely down your cheeks—not from pain, but from the sheer intensity of it all. The stretch, the depth, the filthy teasing, the way every thrust made your sensitive walls flutter around his thick cock… it was too much. You were crying from how good it felt, soft sobs mixing with your moans as your body trembled beneath him.
Choso froze for half a second, eyes widening as he noticed the tears glistening on your lashes. His grip on your throat immediately loosened, turning into something gentler—his thumb stroking tenderly along your pulse point while his hips slowed to deep, rolling thrusts instead of the punishing pace.
“Shit… baby, I’m being too rough… but you feel so good. Too good. My sweet girl… letting me have you like this” he whispered, voice dropping into that soft, rough timbre you loved. His free hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb wiping away the tears with surprising gentleness even as he stayed buried deep inside you. “You’re crying… fuck, you look so pretty when you cry like this. All teary-eyed and falling apart on my cock.”
He leaned down and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your wet cheek, then to the corner of your eye, tasting the salt of your tears. The contrast between his filthy words and the tender way he kissed you made your heart stutter.
“Does it feel that good, sweetheart?” he murmured against your skin, still moving inside you with slow, deliberate strokes that dragged against every sensitive spot. “My innocent little girl, crying because my cock is ruining her tight pussy… Sukuna would lose his mind if he saw you right now—how perfectly you’re taking me… how wet you are for me. But right now… I only care about you.”
Another soft sob escaped you as he gave your swollen clit a gentle pinch, then rubbed tight, soothing circles to ease the sting. Choso groaned quietly at the way you clenched around him, but his voice stayed warm and caring.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” he cooed, pressing more kisses along your jaw and down your neck, sucking a softer love bite this time—still claiming, but gentler. “You’re doing so well for me. Taking every inch like such a good girl… even when it makes you cry pretty tears. My sweet baby… so sensitive, so perfect.”
He kept one hand loosely around your throat—more possessive hold than choke now—while the other slid down to where you were joined. His fingers teased your folds, feeling how soaked you were, how his cock stretched you open.
“That’s it… let it out, baby,” Choso murmured, hips rolling deeper, grinding against that spot that made fresh tears slip down your cheeks. He kissed them away again, lips soft and warm. “Cry for me. Let me see how much you need this—how much you need me ruining this pretty pussy that no one else has ever touched like this.”
His pace stayed steady but intense, never too rough now that he’d seen your tears. Every thrust was accompanied by soft praises and filthy teasing, the perfect mix that had you spiraling closer and closer.
“My sweet girl… crying because my cock feels too good inside you." He kept moving—slow, deep rolls of his hips that dragged against that perfect spot—while he kissed every tear that fell.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” he cooed softly, forehead resting against yours. “You’re doing so well. So perfect for me. Let go whenever you need to… I’m right here.”
The combination of his dirty words, the tender kisses on your tears, and the deep, relentless drag of his cock finally pushed you over the edge. Your second orgasm hit hard — walls clamping down around him as you sobbed his name, body shaking with pleasure-pain that felt like pure bliss.
Choso groaned deeply, following right after you with a few final, deep thrusts. He spilled hot and thick inside you, burying his face in your neck as he came, murmuring soft, broken praises against your skin.
“Fuck—! good girl… such a good fucking girl for me...”
———
When the waves of pleasure finally ebbed, Choso stayed buried deep inside you for a long moment, both of you breathing hard. Slowly, carefully, he pulled out with a soft hiss, a thick trail of his cum leaking from your swollen pussy onto the chair beneath you. He didn’t pull away though. Instead, he gathered you gently into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he sat back on the tattoo chair, letting you straddle his lap while he held you close.
“Baby… fuck, I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, rough from exertion but soaked in regret. His large hands roamed over your body with feather-light touches — one stroking soothing circles along your spine, the other gently cupping the back of your head. “I got so carried away… marking you up like that, teasing you about Sukuna… making you cry. Did I hurt you? Tell me the truth.”
You shook your head softly, still trembling a little as you nuzzled into his warm chest. “No… it felt really good. Just… intense. I liked it. All of it.”
Choso let out a shaky breath of relief and pressed his lips to the top of your head. He started kissing every love bite he’d left—slow, apologetic presses of his mouth over the dark marks on your neck, your collarbone, the ones blooming across your breasts. Each kiss was accompanied by a soft murmur.
“I’m sorry for this one… and this…” His lips brushed tenderly over a bite on your shoulder. “You’re so beautiful, and I couldn’t stop myself from claiming you. But I never want to push you too far, okay? You’re too precious to me.”
His hands kept moving—gentle caresses down your sides, over your hips, tracing light patterns on your thighs where he’d gripped you earlier. One thumb brushed carefully over the fresh tattoo on your ribcage, avoiding the sensitive skin but still offering comfort.
“You did so well for me,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “My sweet girl… crying so pretty because it felt good. I hate that I made you tear up, but goddamn… you looked like an angel. Still do.”
You smiled against his skin, your own hands exploring him just as softly. Your fingers traced the lines of his muscular arms, then slid up to his messy bun, gently tugging the hair tie free so his dark strands fell around his face. “You were perfect too, Cho. I loved how you held me… how you checked on me even when you were losing control. Makes me feel safe with you.”
Choso’s breath hitched at your words. He tilted your chin up gently so he could look into your eyes, his own dark ones soft and vulnerable. “Yeah? You feel safe with me?” He leaned in and kissed you—slow, deep, and full of quiet affection, tongues brushing lazily rather than hungrily this time. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours.
“I’ve wanted you for so long… not just like this. The real you. The girl who shows up in that pink skirt looking completely out of place in my shop, smiling shyly at frat parties. I kept telling myself I shouldn’t want Sukuna’s sister, but… I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
He paused, cheeks flushing a little as shyness crept back in. His hands never stopped their gentle caresses—one rubbing your back, the other cradling your waist like you might disappear.
“Your brother will kill me for this… hell, he might actually try. But… will you go out with me?” His voice cracked slightly on the question, nerves making him ramble. “I mean, like a real date. Not just… this. I want to take you somewhere nice, hold your hand, listen to you talk about whatever you want. I know I’m quiet and covered in tattoos and probably not the guy your brother would ever approve of, but I swear I’ll treat you right. I’ll protect you, make you laugh, be there when you’re nervous about anything — even another tattoo. I’ve never felt this way about anyone and—”
You cut him off with a soft yet firm kiss on the lips. Gently cupping his face and pulling him closer. After a long sweet kiss, you both pulled away with a soft pop!
"Of course yes, silly boy" You giggled when you saw Choso's face light up with pure joy.
He pulled you in a hug again without saying anything, just wanting to hold you. The rain continued outside like a soft background music.
This was supposed to end with a quick tattoo… or maybe just a quick, heated hookup in the back of his shop.
It was supposed to be just this once.
But as Choso held you tighter and pressed the softest kiss to your temple, it turned out it wasn’t.
Divider credits to @/uzmacchiato and art by sakimenz on Patreon<3
SYNOPSIS: He knows your drink, your worst days, and the face you make when you’re pretending to be fine. One night after closing, he decides just knowing isn’t enough anymore.
CW: Eighteen+, Mdni!! Alcohol consumption, Reader is emotional, Sex in an empty bar, fingering, Mentions of Readers Ex Bf, Mentions of cheating, Reader is tipsy, Consensual.
WORD COUNT: 2.0k
NOTES: First long fic in a while! Anyways, this is my submission for @iheartanzai #Justthisonce 1K event!! Check it out for other upcoming fics :D
The neon sign is humming. An electric buzz that vibrates in your molars. The air in the bar is thick with the smell of cheap gin, stale American spirits, and the heavy, expensive scent of your handsome bartenders cologne. It’s sandalwood, something smooth that shouldn’t belong in a dive bar with sticky floors.
You’re staring at the bottom of a glass. The ice has melted into a lukewarm puddle, diluting the amber liquid until it tastes like nothing.
Suguru is at the far end, wiping down a surface that’s gotten sticky, his movements fluid. He wears his black sleeves rolled up to the elbows, revealing forearms corded with lean muscle and a stray vein that pulses when he grips the rag. His hair is a spilled inkwell, tied back, but a single stray lock shadows his eye. A good bartender would look at their regular once in a while but he hasn’t looked at you in ten minutes. In his defense, he doesn’t need to. He knows you’re there and he knows the exact weight of your silence.
"Another?" His voice is low, cutting through the overhead drone of a radio playing something forgotten. He’s standing right in front of you. You didn’t even hear him move.
You look up. Your vision is a blurred smear of gold and shadow. Your face feels tight, salt-crust on your cheeks from the drive over, the kind of dry heat that comes after you’ve emptied yourself out in a parking lot.
"I shouldn't," you reply.
Suguru leans in, hands flat on the mahogany. His rings clink against the wood. "You shouldn't do a lot of things," he says, "But you're sitting in my bar forty minutes past the last call for the regulars. So. Another?"
Without waiting for a reply, he reaches for a fresh glass. As he does, you’re stuck thinking about the text on your phone. The one you deleted, then recovered from the trash, then deleted again. The image of your (now ex) boyfriend’s mouth on someone else’s neck—a girl who looked like a blurred version of you, but younger, less tired. The betrayal is a physical thing, a cold stone lodged under your ribs. It makes every breath feel shallow. Suguru slides the drink toward you. It’s not the cheap rail whiskey you’ve been nursing. This one smells like a forest fire.
"On the house," he murmurs.
"Why?"
"Because you look like you’re about to shatter, and I don't want to sweep up the glass tonight." If he had caught you at a better time, you would’ve laughed at the joke. He turns around to flip the sign on the door to Closed. The heavy deadbolt thuds home. The sound echoes in the empty room. The silence that follows is massive. It’s just you, him, and the hum of the refrigerators.
He walks back, but he doesn't stay behind the bar. He hitches a leg over the stool next to yours. He’s too close. You can feel the heat radiating off him, a steady, rhythmic warmth that mocks the shivering mess inside your chest.
"He's an idiot," Suguru says. No preamble. No "what's wrong?" He already knows. He's watched you come in here for months, watched you wait for calls that didn't come, watched you pull your hair back and try to look small.
"Is it that obvious?" you whisper, staring into the dark liquor.
"You have the look of someone who just realized they’ve been worshipping a false god." He reaches out, his fingers hovering near your hand before retreating. "It’s a violent realization."
You let out a laugh that turns into a sob before you can choke it back. You press your palms into your eyes until you see sparks. "I feel stupid. I feel... dirty. Like I'm the one who did something wrong."
"Look at me."
You drop your hands. He’s watching you with those narrow, dark eyes—piercing, intelligent, and utterly devoid of the pity you'd get from anyone else. He looks at you like you’re a problem he wants to solve. Or a meal he’s considering.
"You aren't the one who's stained," he says. He reaches out again, and this time he doesn't stop. His thumb brushes your lower lip, pulling it down just enough to expose the tremble there. His skin is hot.
"Suguru..."
"Hush." He stands up, his height suddenly looming, blocking out the rest of the room. He reaches behind him, unfastening the tie in his hair. It falls in a heavy, dark curtain around his face. He looks less like a bartender and more like something ancient. He grabs your glass and sets it aside. Then, he hooks his large, warm hands under your armpits and lifts you off the stool like you weigh nothing. He sets you down on the bar top.
The wood is cold against the backs of your thighs, a sharp contrast to the fire in his gaze.
"You came here to drown it, hm?" he asks, stepping between your knees. His chest is a wall of black cotton. "But alcohol just keeps the ghost alive, you need something louder. Something that hurts enough to make you forget his name."
You look at him confused. He’s always had a bad habit of talking in riddles to maintain being referred to as the “logical one.” It’s laughable. He smiles at your confusion and to make the meaning of his words clearer, his mouth hits yours like a collision. It’s not sweet. It’s not a comfort. It’s a riot. He tastes like bitter alcohol and smoke. He tastes like the end of the world. His tongue slides against yours with a bruising pressure, demanding you show him exactly how much you’re hurting.
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in, desperate for the friction. Your fingers tangle in that long, dark hair, pulling at the roots. You want to claw the skin off his back. You want to feel anything other than the hollow ache in your soul. Suguru groans deep in his throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated hunger. He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down, biting and nipping at your neck.
"Tell me," he hisses against your pulse. "Tell me you want to forget him."
"I want to forget," you gasp, "Please. Make me forget just this once.”
He pulls back, his eyes glowing in the dim light. He looks at you, stripping away the sadness until only the raw, pulsing need remains.
"I’m going to ruin you for anyone else," he whispers. "You understand that? When I'm done, he won't even be a shadow in your head." He reaches for the button of your jeans, his movements slow and deliberate. He’s watching your face as he undoes the denim, as he slides his hand inside to find your pussy already slick, already waiting.
His fingers are long, talented, and ruthless. He moves with a rhythmic, mechanical precision that makes your back arch, and your legs spread wider for him absentmindedly. "That's it," he coos, his voice dropping into a honey-thick register. "Needy girl aren’t you?”
You nod desperately as his fingers are deep inside, hooked and ruthless, mimicking the stretch you’re starving for. You find yourself rutting against his hand, your hips moving in frantic hitches, chasing that high-voltage snap in your nerves.
"That's it," he purrs, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that makes your toes curl. "Wreck yourself on me. Forget everything else."
When you finally break, he’s already stripping. He shoves his slacks down, thick cock springing free, thick and angry-red, the head already slick with a heavy bead of pre-cum.
“Can I?” He looks at you.
“Yes, please” you beg. He grabs your thighs, dragging you to the very edge of the mahogany until you’re open, vulnerable, and completely his.
"You're so tight," he hisses, his tip probing the entrance, dragging through your velvety walls. "He didn't deserve to be anywhere near this pretty pussy. I'm going to stretch you out so wide you'll never feel him again."
The grunt he lets out is primal as he buries himself to the hilt in one fluid, violent shove. You cry out—a thin sound that cuts through the hum of the refrigerators—as your body tries to accommodate the sheer mass of him. It’s a blunt-force trauma of pleasure. He’s bottoming out, hitting your cervix with every rhythmic, punishing thud of his hips.
"Look at me," he says, voice cracking, "Don't you dare close your eyes. I want you to see who's filling you up. I want you to feel every inch of me taking what he left behind."
He starts to move faster, a relentless, bruising pace that makes your head toss back and forth. Each thrust is a heavy, wet slap of skin on skin.
"Tell me," he gasps, his teeth grazing your earlobe, "tell me how much better this feels. Tell me you’re mine tonight."
"Yours," you sob, your fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders, drawing crescent moons in his skin. "Suguru, please—"
"I’ve got you," he growls, his pace turning frantic, desperate. "I've got you."
He’s all-encompassing, a storm of sandalwood, salt, and raw power. He isn't just fucking the sadness out of you; he’s burning the memory of the other man down to ash, replacing it with the heavy, permanent weight of his own name.
Your pussy grips him and both of your climaxes hit like a fever dream—shaking, sobbing, clinging to each other as the world dissolves into static.
Later, the room is quiet again. You’re sitting on the edge of the desk, wrapped in his discarded button-down. It’s too big, the sleeves hanging past your hands. Suguru is leaning against the doorframe, lighting a cigarette. The smoke curls around his head like a halo. The pain is still there, somewhere deep down, but it’s dull. It’s been cauterized.
He looks at you over his shoulder, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "Better?"
You look at your hands. They aren't shaking anymore. "Yeah," you say, your voice finally steady. "Better."
He walks over, plucks the cigarette from his lips, and offers it to you. As you take a drag, he leans in and kisses your forehead.
"Good," he murmurs. "Now let's go. I'm taking you home. And tomorrow, you're changing your locks."
He says it like a fact. And for the first time in a long time, you believe him. You leave the bar behind, the neon sign finally flickering out, leaving nothing but the cool, dark dawn and the man walking beside you, his hand a grounding weight on the small of your back.
synopsis: suguru won't deny that it's wrong to pine for a taken woman, but acting is different from doing, and he's not done a thing. when you stumble into his bar in the aftermath of your proposal, the morals become murky, and suguru doesn't fight the pull that is you.
this is for the lovely @sugusplaything's 'just this once' event <3 congratulations on hitting this milestone and thank you for letting me participate mwah (and also for letting me pick your brain a lil ily) II art credits -> tomiokamon II wc 2.6k
tags/cw: bartender!suguru // bsf!suguru, one sided pining (or so you think), marriage proposals, cheating (not on suguru – also this wasn’t meant to be part of the plot but it just happened, can you forgive me baby i won’t ever do it again), dubious consent (they’re both lwk drunk), angst, hurt/no comfort, cunnilingus + fingers, reader is lying to herself
His skin heats before his mind catches up.
Familiar heels click across the room, though they’re marred by the weight of the day. Perfume – your signature, sweeter than the cherry vodka he dishes out to every bachelorette party – graces the air. A scoff – maybe even a scowl – wants to manifest on his face, but all that appears is the tiniest, upwards twitch of his lips.
It’s you.
“I’m not serving you tonight.”
It’s the script – the same song and dance that he’s entertained since childhood. You show up. He teases, and between the banter, you wrap him around your pinky and win with nothing but bravado.
Suguru’s back is turned away from you as he sorts whatever-the-fuck is in the cabinets behind the bar, his voice radiating sheer disapproval – or, what you like to call, challenge.
You slide into your usual seat anyway, and the stool screeches against the worn wood under your forceful actions. Drumming on the mahogany with manicured fingers like you’re about to start rapping your case to a beat of your own audacity.
“Sugu, there’s no way you’re gonna be a buzzkill tonight,” you drawl. Your voice is raw, like it’s been scraping against your throat for the past hour. A tone that’s usually mischievous is dulled and you try to cough the congestion away, but it does no good.
A drink – your usual – is already dripping condensation down his fingers, and you reach for it like you’ve already decided the alcohol belongs in your system. For the first time that evening, Suguru pauses. Observes.
Sees the swollen state of your eyes, the tears already prickling at your lashline – though the silvery tracks down your cheeks tells him that this isn’t the first time they’ve made an appearance tonight. Bracelets adorn your wrists, but the one your boyfriend got for you is missing, and you keep fiddling at the spot like it might reappear if you rub the skin raw.
Speech, slurred.
Lips, kiss-bitten – lipstick all but gone.
Eyes? Desperate.
He wonders how many bars you’ve been kicked out of to land in his. Disappointment isn’t the feeling sinking his chest right now. No, it’s hollow, like someone burst a balloon in the cavity and tossed his ribs away. He’s never been your first choice. He just didn’t expect to be your last.
“Suguru,” you say, and it sounds more like a plea than a call. “You gonna serve me—” you reach for his hand, the one wrapped ‘round the cup, “—or not?”
You are the one thing he is not allowed to want.
Glasses clink, and the hums of tired conversation thread through the early morning air. Suguru greeted the unholy hour with one final customer, before he shrugged off his responsibilities to settle beside you, much to the chagrin of his manager.
If you were a better woman, you’d shoo him back behind the bar. If he were a better man, he’d fall back and try to fall out of love with you.
But you’re not, and he’s always been the type to lead with his heart.
“He proposed to me.”
The sounds of his body fall quiet. He’s not even sure that he’s breathing. All that roars in his ears, is the fatal beating of his heart.
“Oh, yeah?” Suguru says, if only to fill the silence. Because if he doesn’t say something – anything – it might show. Just how much that sentence took from him.
The natural next step would be to ask to see the ring, because there’s no universe where you refuse the guy you’ve been with since high school. For all the politeness hammered into his body – courtesy of his mother, and her prattling on about manners and social conventions – Suguru can’t summon the courage to confirm that you won’t ever be his.
Not that you’d ever consider that possibility.
Your critical eyes linger on his stiff form, and he feels like he’s being examined. He tries to sit looser. Breathe steadier.
What he’s being tested on, he doesn’t know. He’s never worn heartbreak well, but he’s trying for your sake. No one needs to see a man crumbling under the weight of a love he could never hold.
“Mhmm.” It rings hollow, your usual vibrance bittered by the alcohol. You’ve wrapped your fingers around the glass – he never could say no to you – like it’s something to pray into. It’s almost gone, and when it is, Suguru knows you will vanish too.
What he doesn’t understand is why you’re stuck beside him, instead of celebrating with your husband-to-be. Why you had stumbled into his bar like a disaster waiting to be unravelled.
Unless you didn’t accept. Unless the life everyone expected you to take is still waiting for you.
Hope flutters in his chest – uninvited.
Unless you said no.
It rises before he can stop it. A selfish, grasping thing that latches onto the cracks in your voice. Because if you didn’t accept, then you’re still his to lose.
His eyes slide to your hands before he can stop himself.
No ring.
Shame kills this ugly line of thought before it can take flight. He can’t sit here and wish that you’re just as miserable as he is – because that’s exactly what he’s doing – while he sits beside you, masquerading as the friend you came to find.
“What would you have said?” You push the drink towards him.
At this, Suguru raises an eyebrow. “If…your boyfriend—” he doesn’t miss your wince, “—proposed to me?”
“Yup,” you reply, popping the p.
This feels juvenile, like when a child skirts the truth by conjuring bizarre hypotheticals to judge the morality of their behaviour. You’re fidgeting with your nails – your freshly polished nails, painted an inoffensive colour that would suit any combination of band and gem. Did you know that he was about to propose?
Suguru wants to reach over and cup your restless hands, but that wouldn’t be right.
“Yeah, I’d…I’d say yes.”
It hurts more to say aloud than he expected.
You don’t answer right away.
And for a second – just a second – he thinks he’s misunderstood everything.
Until—
“I did, too.”
Oh.
From your coat pocket, you fish out the ring and toss it onto the table like spare change. The diamond is big – bigger than any jewel he’d be able to get on his salary. Suguru stares at it, at the way it catches the dim bar light, refracting something cold and distant.
For a moment, he can’t reconcile it with you.
With the girl who used to sit cross-legged on his bedroom floor, stealing sips from drinks you both swore you hated (hah). With the girl who claimed that she’d never get married unless the guy added to her life – you had strict standards, and a robust ‘no losers’ policy.
‘Congratulations’ tastes bitter as it leaves his lips. The drink you’ve offered him is really tempting.
Your reaction isn’t one that he expects. Eyebrows knit. Lips press into a line that isn’t quite a frown, not quite a smile.
“He’s a nice guy – there’s nothing objectively wrong with him. Decent family – his sister’s really, really nice, and—just, ugh, I don’t know,” you mutter the last part like you’re ashamed. “I guess I latched onto him because I was afraid that I’d never find someone better. That someone better wouldn’t want me.”
Suguru shakes his head. “You can’t think like that.”
“No, that’s the thing, I’m the bad guy here.” Your voice rises, panic setting in. “Fuck, I’m—I don’t even know if I said yes because I meant it, or if I felt bad for keeping him in this stupid fucking relationship that I never saw going anywhere. And now—” your voice breaks, “—now, he’s going to expect vows, ceremony, children. He—he keeps calling his mom my ‘mother-in-law’ and I…I can’t—”
“Are you the bad guy?” Suguru asks, voice low with conviction.
You blink, startled. “What?”
“You’re not the villain here.” Suguru pushes on, challenging your thoughts. You’ve gotten lost in your spiral – that much is clear. Otherwise, why would you defend the guy who would always slip in snide remarks, chipping away at confidence until your inferiority was all you saw.
You don’t remember the first argument that you had, but Suguru was the one who had to hold you upright when you felt your world collapsing. Arguments that you thought you had resolved, your boyfriend would always find a way to resurface – to use the concessions you made to back you into corners.
Your composure is slipping with the second. Suguru has always been good with his words, but now, they slip from his mind. Quicksand swallowing the comfort he so easily dishes out to every other patron. Maybe it’s because what he has to say will cross the line he’s learned never to venture near.
But you?
You’ve always been the go-getter.
You shift until you’re facing him and rest a hand against his cheek. Before either of you can think, your lips slam against his.
They’re dry – the alcohol has washed away any lingering lip balm – and they brush against him like a question he hasn’t ever dared to ask himself. You kiss like you want to forget the promise you made, but Suguru doesn’t want to be a late night regret.
So, he freezes for a heartbeat, letting the heat of your lips sear onto his, giving you the extra seconds to pull away. He doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t push. His heart hammers in protest, desperate to yield, but this time his mind fights back.
This is wrong.
His hand finds the back of your neck. You part your lips, and he follows.
You’re engaged.
Seconds pass. You lean, insistent, and Suguru’s resolve wavers. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, and you tug until he falls into you. Fingers thread through hair, his body thrumming with warning and want, and want wins. Time slows, and Suguru’s world narrows to this.
To the taste of your tears mingling with the lingering sweetness of your drink.
To the hammering in his chest, and the matching rhythm in yours.
And for once, Suguru doesn’t think about right or wrong. He only thinks about you, pressed to him.
You pull away, and your gasps ghost his lips.
“Distract me.”
In the space between those two words lies a world of hurt.
He’s not going to think about that right now.
You need him.
Suguru is no stranger to sex.
It’s part of the job – and hey, those rolled-up sleeves? Doing him plenty of favours. He’s used to people leaning on him for a night of distraction, a temporary escape. It’s always been about equal exchange: they want, he gives. Losing isn’t in the equation.
But this isn’t like that.
For starters, you’re in his apartment, not the shabby motel across the street.
This is delicate in the way his hands aren’t used to. They fumble through familiar actions with the clumsiness of a fawn stumbling through new terrain. There should be nothing to prove – Suguru shouldn’t want to prove anything, but when he tugs your underwear off to the sight of stringy slick clinging to the fabric, that plan changes.
His fingers glide between your folds, collecting arousal on his fingerpads – almost mockingly, like you’re the one who should be shying away, and not as though he’s the one eager for a taste. He thinks that his heart might burst open.
“Where do you want me,” he presses fluttering, open-mouthed kisses to your thigh as you shift. “Come on, use your words.” Black has swallowed the purple of his eyes that you adore, and being lusted over like this – wanted like this – has you gushing slick. You shiver as the contrasting temperature hits your exposed core – heated breath, arctic room.
You refuse with an indignant whine, only rolling your hips against the grip he’s fixed onto your thighs. Your fluttering pussy is answer enough, no?
Suguru laughs from where he’s burrowed between the apex of your thighs, like your desperation is amusing. Someone pinch him, because he still doesn’t believe this experience is real.
You tell yourself that you just want to get off and leave.
You don’t know why Suguru insists on taking things slow.
It’s not like you’re lovers.
“Suguru, I’m gonna need you to hurry things up,” you groan, head falling back into pillows. You don’t want to see his face as he registers your words.
Another laugh, but it’s quiet – less teasing. Like he’s trying to stretch the moment, and hold it in place before it slips through his fingers.
“Yeah?” A thick finger presses into you, torturously slow. “You always this impatient?” Eyes half-lidded, you meet his stare as he watches your expression shift, before sliding a second finger past the ring of muscle to join the first. This time, the stretch burns – each knuckle sends a shock wave of pleasure rippling through your core, leaving you gasping and trembling.
Suguru’s fingers move with a deliberate, teasing rhythm, curling slowly inside you. You try to fuck yourself faster on his fingers, but he doesn’t let you.
His breath fans over your skin, hot and steady – eyes never leaving yours. His tongue finds your clit, swirling and sucking. The stimulation has you trembling, arching into his touch.
“Y–you’re being so—shit—good for me.” If you’re not mistaken, he’s looking at you with reverence. Like your noises are giving him life.
You watch him rut into the mattress, slow, in tandem with the pace of his fingers. Confusing feelings erupt low in your belly, but you brush them aside.
You don’t need this right now.
His other hand slides up your thigh, fingertips tracing lazy circles – barely touching you. The room seems to shrink until there’s nothing but you and him. The wet sound of his tongue. The slick warmth inside you. The rapid beating of your heart, pounding loud and strong in your ears.
“Mhm, nah Sugu, you’re just—fuck—good.” Your toes curl, and your thighs are beginning to ache.
It spills from his chest – this secret he was hoping to keep a little while longer. But he can’t help it, not while you’re splayed under him like this, looking like something out of his dream. Maybe he knows he won’t be able to touch you like this again, and maybe it’s because he knows there’s no coming back from this.
“Love does that to a man.”
Shit.
His fingers falter for half a second, just enough to betray him.
But you don’t catch it.
Or maybe you do. You just don’t care.
Your head lolls slightly against the pillows, breath uneven, eyes barely open as your fingers drift through his hair without thought,
“Yeah,” you consider, distracted like you didn’t quite hear him. “Don’t start getting soft on me now, Sugu.”
Light. Offhand.
Nothing.
And just like that, whatever slipped out of him folds back in.
It’s the pinging of his phone that rouses Suguru from slumber.
The sun isn’t kind to him, and he has to hold his head in his hands for a few seconds while the headache sparks out. On the bedside table, panadol and a glass of water rests, placed with the kind of care that feels cruel now.
Your side of the bed is cold already, but he expected that.
His phone buzzes again.
It’s you.
A message. It’s short.
i’m sorry. thank you for being there last night.
i didn’t mean to do that to you
Suguru stares at the pixels for a stupidly long time like they’ll rearrange themselves.
A few seconds pass, and then you ruin his life again.
i’d really like it if you still came to the wedding
Huh.
Suguru reads it once. Twice. The air in his lungs is sharp. His ears ring like a bomb’s just been dropped.
Understanding dawns just as the hurt splits him in two.
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cw: (7.9k wc, apx. 32 mins.) minors dni, public & private sex (p in v), older reader (thirty years old), satoru is in his twenties, infidelity, sweat, denial, fingering, no use of “y/n”, idk how what else. mb.
a/n: (art creds: thatsallitchief on x) hi cuties! first and foremost, i wanna thank you for your patience and support. i went mia because of some personal issues and to study for my midterms.. i used my spring break as an opportunity to write what i can. i wanna catch up to my promises! now, to make it short and bring all the spotlight to my amazing mutual aly (@sugusplaything), this work is a part of an event/collab in celebration of her reaching 1k followers! standing ovations and bunch of hugs! thank you aly for letting me participate. <3 please consider going to her page and supporting her, and with love, please keep an eye out for all the other works my peers have put their blood and sweat into. they’re all jjk themed and being released as we speak! (the event post for this collab is linked below under “just this once”). and lastly, like always of course… enjoy. maybe play "professional" by the weeknd ;)
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ masterlist | just this once | read on ao3? 𖥔 ݁ ˖
a wedding ring couldn’t stop you from eyeing your pilates trainer and blushing like a teenage girl whenever he complimented your endurance, even if you were just a new face in his beginner’s class. and it’s not like your neglectful husband would ever find out what you do on your free time because it wasn’t supposed to mean anything… right?
ten years passed by way faster than they should have. it was embarrassing to look back at how little had happened throughout your entire marriage.
it all seemed like a lie, a ruse to be seen as a true love story to others. more specifically, to your family and hometown.
everyday felt the same. the same walls of your penthouse haunted you with their blankness and there was nothing that brought you joy. much less the wedding band that adorned your finger.
a decoration. an illusion.
it glistened at the weak morning light. you were sitting on your kitchen island, sipping on some warm tea after another all-nighter.
chamomile, it soothed your throat from how hard you had been holding in your tears throughout the entire night.
your husband?
a wealthy business man that was nowhere to be seen. he was probably on another work trip, doing who knows what.
he was your high school sweetheart, you got engaged the night you both graduated from college. it wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. but of course, your old-fashioned family would never let you leave if you had been thinking of eloping.
and so by the end of summer, before you both moved across the nation to the heart of tokyo, the wedding was planned. it small and last-minute.
cheap lace and wine. the chairs were full of people whom you had never even heard of since you were a kid.
but it was all you needed to feel wanted.
you continued sipping on your tea, letting your eyes doze off into the distance. you could see one of the housemaids dusting your custom furniture in the living room. by the time you snapped back into reality, said maid was in front of you holding a grand bouquet.
“ma’am…? is the dining room fine?”
“oh… yes.”
“they’re beautiful ma’am. lilies.”
you sipped again before replying, “they are, aren’t they?”
“of course, he chose wisely, and it has been a while since he’s sent any.”
your eyes slightly widened at the realization, “he did?”
a nod and a soft smile were what you earned from that foolish question.
the tea in your hands was fashionably placed down, you took a break and left to go back into your master bedroom, desperately holding in the bitter tears he didn’t deserve.
it had been far too long since he said anything to you, much longer since he visited you and this far too lonely home.
he promised, didn't he? that he would cherish your youth?
the days stretched from boredom, but somehow the years stacked on faster. you were thirty now and still wanted so much. he made it seem so easy to forget about dreams despite the fact you both moved away from comfort, all in hopes for him to achieve his.
were your dreams really that unimportant?
your master bedroom was large, far too big for someone who basically lived alone.
but you have a secret in the midst of your ostracization. other than growing a bad habit of spending your husband’s “hard-earned” money on things that you didn’t even need (this was in the beginning, all in the hopes of somehow earning the attention of your husband even if it was in a bad light), you have been attending a beginner’s reformer pilates class. it was three times a week and with the hottest instructor.
the class is well known throughout the entire city because of him.
satoru gojo.
blue crystal eyes that pulled your breath away with just one look, his white hair lulled like waves, and somehow made you feel safe.
it was all a distraction to get away from home. he was eye candy and a sight for your sore eyes, if you will.
the morning sun was continuing its rise, and you wasted no time getting ready for your session.
satoru had complimented you a while back about how easily you grasped routines, and there was no way you’d hold back.
he had your attention, just as much as you had his.
maybe it was in a different way, but it felt good to walk in and be with him.
you slip on some black leggings and a gym top that squished your bust just right.
it felt wrong, but so right. your heartbeat fluttered at just the thought of him looking at you.
and after leaving home in a rush because of spending so much time on your hair, you somehow ended up being the first one to show up. the studio was still empty, you had the choice of walking to your unassigned assigned machine. obviously, it stands right next to satoru’s. stocked away in the corner, you had no shame to be bold. this was the only place you could feel a little thrill after so long.
but before you could set down your items beside your machine, you hear the door behind you slide open.
his footsteps were light and somewhat graceful. you had unintentionally studied them like they were homework.
the soft blush on your cheeks rose without any thought, awkwardly standing there, you were fighting the urge to turn around. what would you say? would he even say “good morning” with that sweet tone of his?
“good morning.. you’re early. again.”
the vibration of his voice instantly brings chills down your spine, and as you move to turn around to look at him, he was wearing that black compression shirt of his. chiseled muscles breaking through, and the warm lights of his studio made it much easier for them to be noticeable.
quickly, you look away and slightly bite your lip, “good morning.. yeah.. i tend to sleep badly. i was already up.”
he hums and moves to the machine beside yours, “you didn’t sleep well?”
satoru places down his waterbottle and begins to change the tension in his reformer, but he was still looking at you. he was giving you all the attention that he could while maintaining productivity.
“i don’t sleep well.”
“you know, i think i’ve told you that maybe switching this class would help.”
it’s true, a few weeks prior satoru told you to switch his class for afternoon sessions. the problem was that he wouldn’t be your instructor.
“true. maybe it would help, but i really enjoy your teaching.”
bold.
he laughed and straightened up, “that’s cute and all, but maybe worrying about yourself wouldn’t be so bad.”
what felt like minutes of bickering, your other classmates started to pop in.
his entire attitude changed; that wide smile of his filled the entire studio with laughter.
somewhere between the lines, satoru kept looking at you. maybe to see if you had laughed too.
“good morning, i’m sure everyone is ready for warm-ups?”
he walks over to his machine again and starts explaining his setup, “alright, make sure to loosen it up. last class was advanced, so i apologize.”
your hands reach over to the springs at the foot of the machine, slightly tugging at the tightest coil, you pop it out.
“hey, why don’t you use the medium?”
you look up and see satoru looking at you, pointing at the medium-thick coil.
“me? are you sure?”
“of course, you’ve really grown. i’m sure you can do it with that endurance of yours.”
before you could pop in the spring, he reaches over and takes it upon himself to switch it for you.
“stay after, yeah?”
the blush on your cheeks grew even brighter; you could feel it in the tips of your ears. after finishing up, he straightens up and continues class.
“alright, three sets on the side. we’ll continue with a new stretch today.”
the normal warm-up was casual, like always, but the actual stretches had you warm in every joint. his new addition consisted of one leg on the carriage while the other held on for dear life on the leg stand.
“hold the pose! just a few more seconds!”
your back was aching for release, every vein in your body was pumping from how still you were trying to balance.
“stretch the carriage! come on.. try a side split.”
as you move your leg, making the carriage open and the spring stretch, you see satoru. he was walking by every machine and correcting people’s posture. and by the time he reached yours, he gripped your hip and made you slightly bend your knees.
“a little more, you can do it.”
a soft whine slipped, your legs were slightly shaking from surprise. his hand was huge and his fingers were digging into you; somehow it made you dizzy instead of helping.
satoru’s eyes looked up at you, they look down at your lips before slowly letting go to walk off.
“slowly come up.. hold your position.”
your legs continued to shake and satoru made you all repeat it before changing the target.
laying back down, the straps wrap around your wrists. the coming down was obvious, all of your classmates were almost at their limits.
“nobody’s sleeping, right? we need our usual sets!”
satoru walked toward another classmate who was slowing down, he helped them up to switch positions at their accommodation.
by the time class ended, satoru was all smiles, as if we has proud how wasted everyone was.
“good job everyone! see you all next session.”
the small chatter from everyone slowly diminished; a few women stayed behind to earn a compliment. but he noticed that you were still waiting for him, and so, he excused himself.
you were sitting on the carriage, sipping on water and trying not to fall asleep.
“you did good, with the medium spring.”
your eyes shot open to look up at him, “i did?”
“that’s intermediate for you. have you been taking classes without me knowing?”
his musk filled your nose and caught you a bit off guard, you were about to answer until he cut you off.
“actually, don’t answer that. i’ll probably feel a little bummed out.”
“bummed out? you mean jealous?”
he hummed, “something like that.”
the studio was empty now, other than you both. warm lights shone on you and made the awkward silence somewhat tolerable.
“i know i asked you to stay. but i just wanted to talk, and maybe i can offer something.”
that caught your interest.
“oh… talk about what?”
“this class, you’re obviously achieving results much faster than everyone else. maybe you could move up.”
you laughed, “move up? i’ll be missing so much.”
“not really… if you do move up, i could offer training.”
“you do personal training?”
“well, i am an instructor. i’m sure i can personally train.”
your eyes slightly cinched at confusion, “so you don’t train.”
“i did, once a blue moon. but i think your progress could exceed if you moved up.”
silence. the blush from his praise made you warm up. the workout already had you completely bloodshot, your heart was accelerating even while sitting down because of him. it had been so long since these type of words were being uttered in your presence.
“yeah… okay.”
“i’ll work it out for you. this new class has two options.”
satoru began to walk towards the door, “follow me. my office is down the hall.”
as soon as you walked in the hallway, other people noticed satoru. they waved and greeted him, but thanks to his height, you were easily brushed off.
“the schedules for intermediate are hard-copy. it’ll be easy to pick out.”
his office door clicked as it opened and closed behind you, allowing you both some privacy. his room was modernly furnished. shelves that reached the ceiling and a large desk made of dark oak. they shimmered at every angle.
“sit. i’ll print ‘em out.”
you nod and sit down while his back faces you. god, every muscle jolted with every move he made. your teeth were nibbling on your bottom lip, it was taking everything in you to look away and have some decency.
“here.”
his body turns to face you as the papers slide on the desk.
“this one is three times a week, later time, just with another instructor.”
“okay… what about the other one?”
“two times a week, same time, and it’s with me.”
satoru stayed silent so he could see your thought process before stepping in to add, “our sessions could be between those two days.”
“are you sure this is fine?”
he smiled and nodded, “it’s just one day.”
you left with a hint of embarrassment and a little post-it with satoru’s number between your fingers. and it wouldn’t take a while before he started messaging you.
intermediate sessions were on monday and wednesday, his catch up session was on tuesday after his other classes were over.
just the thought of it made your stomach flutter.
good afternoon, are we still up for tomorrow?
i can make it, i wanna get the most out of your class.
you’re still in my class, haha.
alright, i’ll see you then.
your usual clothes were slightly altered. leggings were switched for shorts, and that ponytail you always combed was now a braid. it’s hard not to mention how you began getting ready much earlier than usual to slap on some makeup. it was six o’clock, no way you’d be seen unkempt so late in the day.
satoru was perched on the reception desk when you arrived, he was idly scrolling on his phone as he waited for you.
“you’re here, great.”
“sorry, am i late?”
“for the first time, yeah. it’s nice seeing a change.”
you laughed at his joke, “it’s traffic hour. not my fault.”
he walked into his studio room and spread open his arms to emphasize the void of the room.
“pick any, try a new one.”
“does it matter which one?”
“of course not, but we are the only one’s here.”
satoru watched as you walked around and chose a reformer that was on the opposite side of your usual machine.
“this one is fine.”
“sure, how about we start on warm-ups now?”
knee bends, hip adjusts, and over-the-head stretches.
satoru watched you, his new assigned machine was beside yours to mimic what he wanted you to work on.
“alright, maybe i should start with our new warm-ups for tomorrow. let’s do medium spring like last time.”
he stepped on his machine and started positioning himself in a single-leg stretch. one foot was on the foot stand while the other was on the floor, letting him stabilize.
“we go all the way down to feel no tension after. you can start slow.”
your leg stretched as your hands stayed on the foot bar.
“nice, wanna try on top?”
satoru’s velvety tone made you blush, his innuendo made you listen with no fight. you quickly climbed on top of the foot stand to try the actual split. the carriage opened with every inch, he was right beside you on your left side, holding out a hand in case you needed stabilization.
“look at you, this is easy, huh?”
“n– no.. easier.. said than done.”
“you’re doing good–”
as you reached down for his hand, he stopped what he was going to say. instantly, you look down and see him looking at your hand.
“you’re married? wow, congrats.”
“oh, yeah. ten years.”
“so, no congrats?”
awkwardly, you laugh and watch how he looks up at you with a soft smirk.
“sure, i guess. he’s just never around.”
“oh, sorry. didn’t mean to pry. the kids probably understand, right?”
you mumble, “don’t have any.”
silence.
“sorry, i’m prying again.”
“it’s fine. most people have kids at this stage, right?”
“depends if you even want any.”
silence again.
“i’m sorry for assuming.”
all you could do was laugh to break the tension.
“you’re funny.”
satoru looked away to let you focus on the stretch, but for a split second, you could see a hint of pink blossom on his cheeks.
the entire session was guided with his gentle hands, the confidence he had was shot down and you could feel it with every word he used. honorifics were added onto every phrase, his eyes never lingered hard enough for you anymore.
by the time you left to your car, satoru walked you out. always two steps behind. it drove you a tad bit insane. was the wedding ring really that big of a deal? this entire scheme was to make you forget about your husband, just for a bit. and here he was ruining it without even being present.
your body moved without any thought, you were facing him as the dark sky was beginning to let the stars twinkle.
“is it different now?”
“what is?”
“our sessions. because i’m married.”
“of course not, i should have noticed since the beginning. it’s my fault.”
“this isn’t about him, you know.”
he stood silent, somehow behind those white lashes of his, you could see the slight disappointment behind them.
“i’m doing all of this for me. it isn’t about him. if… if this is too much, we don’t have to.”
satoru smiles and shakes his head, “i’ll see you tomorrow. sleep well.”
you continue looking up at him before looking away to ponder. the impulsion lingered, and without a second to spare, you cut the distance and kiss him.
adrenaline overtook you, him as well.
satoru’s hands land on both sides of your face. his palms guide and redirect how your kiss was moving.
he tasted so sweet. spearmint from a gum he had been chewing and somehow you could distinguish a hint of herbal. probably from some tea. his musk was even more potent up close.
you pull back, eyes blown wide and hair slightly wild, satoru was about to say something before you ran into your car.
“–i’ll see you tomorrow!”
you couldn’t think straight on the ride back. this wasn’t supposed to happen. or maybe it should have happened much sooner.
swirls of everything that had happened filled your every thought.
satoru.
standing over six feet tall and carved by the heavens had kissed you back under the starlit sky.
you told him you were married right?
was this all a dream?
at the foot of your bed, your fingers kept touching your lips to somehow feel the ghost of his lips that lingered on them.
by the time sleep had taken over, it was far too late. you woke up much later than usual for your first intermediate session.
quickly, you dressed and left with not much time left.
but before you could step out of your car and into the studio, your phone began to ring.
ring. ring. ring.
his contact name glowed with no shame. when was the last time he called? weeks maybe.
“...hello?”
“honey, how’s it going?”
“i’m fine… you haven’t called.”
you could hear the sigh through the phone, “i know. i’m sorry. i didn’t think this trip would be so long.”
“it’s over, right?”
“in a bit. did you like them?”
a second of silence passed, “oh, the lilies.”
“yes. freshly delivered.”
“they’re beautiful.”
“how about you send me a photo?”
“oh… i’m not home.”
“really? where are you so early in the day if not home?”
“i… came for a walk.”
“alright. take care then.”
“when will you come back?”
your husband hummed and began to look through papers before giving up and yelling out to someone, “tana! when’s the next flight back!?”
the murmuring continued before he sighed, “listen, i’m not sure. but i’ll call. i love you.”
“okay… i– i love you too.”
your phone turned off as he hung up. the silence after your simple lie was haunting. you slipped off your wedding band and stuffed it in the middle compartment.
the early day was cloudy, slightly foggy.
the second you stepped into the studio, satoru was talking to another group of classmates. you looked around and found the only empty machine that was left. it stood somewhat in the middle.
satoru noticed you and cleared his throat, “alright. everyone’s here. let’s start with warm-ups everyone. ten minutes.”
you set your items down beside your machine and before beginning your warm-ups from yesterday’s session, satoru’s undeniable warmth was beside you.
“good morning… you’re late.”
“i apologize.”
he hummed and eyed your emotion, “something wrong?”
“not at all.”
“okay. i… wanna talk.”
you nod and he walks away to continue class.
your first session as an intermediate was fast. of course the workouts were harder, but they were much shorter with real impact.
the classroom soon fell silent after everyone left and you could feel how far away satoru stood. he was walking around the machines, fixing them and putting them all in position.
“satoru. if this is about yesterday–”
his body straightened up, he wasn’t facing you but you could tell he wasn’t happy.
“it is about yesterday.”
“i’m sorry. i’ll keep saying sorry for being so thoughtless.”
satoru turned around and walked over to you, his hands grasped yours and slightly tugged you closer.
“w– wait.. your other class–”
in an instant, his lips were on yours. teeth slightly clashing, his tongue was slipping in as your hands remained under fingerlock.
this kiss felt even more desperate than from last night. this was in broad daylight and so lustful, your knees almost gave out from his misery.
he was moaning at the contact.
every passing of saliva made you lose the little sanity you had left. and as you pulled back to breath in some air, he was looking down at you with half-lidded eyes. the blush on his face mirrored yours.
“i’m not mad, i’m happy. see you next week?”
you nod while looking away. it was all too much. his gaze was digging holes into you and the fact you were covered in sweat made you want to cry from embarrassment.
his hands let go of yours, “i’ll message you.”
there was a slight skip in your step. right foot, left foot, you fix your hair and slide into the driver’s seat. every breath you took was making your insides burn.
your hands were gripping your hair, tugging in an attempt to bring you back to earth.
“holy shit… what the hell.”
every passing car on the street made you heave. all possible emotions overtook your body.
was this really okay?
you weren’t mentally there on the drive back home. it was forgotten, much less the warm bath that was prepared for you. you were head over heels. the man you had been eyeing for weeks was finally giving you his time, even in the most inconvenient times.
hello, just wanted to say good night.
hi satoru, good night.
you looked very beautiful today. is that okay to say?
of course. that’s fine. thank you for today.
good night, beautiful. let me know if you’re free this weekend.
i am free. are you asking for something?
maybe. all we’ve done is talk in the studio.
friday after 7?
sounds great. is this casual?
everything but that. i’ll see you.
a squeal echoed in your room, even at thirty, this man had a skill into making you act like a lovesick teen.
your wedding band was somewhere in your car and there was no way you’d go back when satoru was right in front of you. he was giving you everything.
that thursday became even more torturous. friday sounded like a breath of air in the grand midst of things.
you and satoru had been messaging throughout the entire friday, and he accidentally slipped the detail that he was taking you to a nice restaurant. despite the fact he told you not to worry about presentation, you knew otherwise. this was your first (secret) date in over ten years. plus, it’s not like he’s seen you in anything other than workout clothes.
a high up hair do and maybe a sun dress would fit the occasion. every dress in your closet flashed before your eyes. and after much debate, you decided on a long framed dress that would fit.
all of your maids were dismissed early that day to save yourself the awkward looks. they didn’t have to see you get dressed.
his car arrived very early and stood outside the penthouse’s gates, idly roaring to pass the time.
when you stepped out in the dress you had on, it twinkled with every step you took and made his jaw slightly widen.
satoru’s date went as planned, overpriced desserts sealed the deal under a candlelit dinner. he was driving you back home as the subject of pilates started, “you know, i ordered some machinery a while back.”
his eyebrows slightly rose, “oh? you did?”
“yep. that was my reasoning.”
“i’m extremely confused.”
you laugh, “remember when you asked how i was getting better so quickly?”
“seriously? you were training at home? i thought you were cheating on me or something.”
“wanna come look at them?”
satoru smirked and looked back at the road, “sure. it wouldn’t hurt.”
his hand slipped down and blindly looked for yours, letting them intertwine throughout the entire ride. he was a gentleman, of course. he walked you to your door and stood there.
“are you seriously waiting for an invite?”
“sorta, kinda.”
“satoru, don’t be silly. i already invited you in the car.”
“well, maybe you changed your mind.”
you smiled and tugged his hand, “not really.”
his footsteps echoed in the lobby, the elevator dinged every time you left a floor.
“he’s not home… is he?”
your smile dropped at the question. satoru’s face tightened in fear.
“obviously not… i wouldn’t be here if he was.”
satoru cleared his throat and fixed the collar of his shirt, “yeah, right. first time.”
you looked back at him with a confused expression.
“first time, what?”
“you know… doing this.”
“oh. right. homewrecking?”
he awkwardly laughs and looks up at the mini screen that reflects the floor you both are currently passing, “you’re on the thirteenth floor?”
“yeah, just a bit.”
“how’d you even bring all of it up?”
“delivery service.”
the elevator dings as the doors open to showcase the entrance of your penthouse. bright walls were illuminated by the warm light. shrubbery on every table, the custom furniture that you ordered on a whim filled the entire living room.
“want something to drink?”
“it’s fine, it’s late.”
“alright,” you responded as you pointed at a nearby door, “the machine is that way.”
satoru followed you, two steps behind and eyeing the flow of your dress.
a whistle slipped from his lips as soon as the door opened, “newest model, i see. you’re good at shopping.”
“you think so?”
“mhm,” his hands reached for yours, “you did good.”
the machine was fine, more than fine for the type of workouts he would be teaching you.
satoru leans down and kisses you again, this time he let you guide him.
he was letting you teach him.
at this realization, your hands slipped free from his grasps and landed on his shoulders. every touch you gave him had satoru moaning.
his feet stepped backwards through the room and into your bedroom across the penthouse. the grey suit jacket he had on was taken off, the white shirt that he was wearing became lost when he eagerly took it off himself.
every muscle you had looked at from under his studio lights was right here in front of you in all its glory.
“how do you take this off…?”
“my dress? on the side.”
“oh… sorry.”
satoru searched for the zipper on the side of your torso and slowly slipped your dress off of you. his lips reached down to kiss your neck, then the valley of your breasts as the surface became free from the fabric. your matching set was not worn in vain, he landed on his knees to reach your stomach.
the heels on your feet made you stand awkwardly; his hair was the only means to have some stability in the middle of your room.
“hey, sit down. i’ll get these for you.”
as soon as you sat down, his nimble fingers reached for the back of your heels to slip them off.
red lines traced your foot from how long you had been wearing them.
satoru’s lips landed on the lines; your ankle wasn’t far behind. he stood up to cage you in, kissing you again and slipping between your legs.
“this is okay, right?”
you nod, you couldn’t see anything in this dark room. all your answers were desperate whines.
“tell me if you don’t like it.”
your arms wrap around his neck before replying, “...okay.”
his hands reach behind to undo the clasp, the tension is immediately removed. all the harsh wire that was digging into you was gone.
the pesky panty you had on was effortlessly removed and stuffed into the pocket of his grey slacks.
you were pliable. soft and vulnerable under the darkness as satoru’s hands reached down to unbuckle himself, letting his straining cock free.
“i wanna make you feel good, hold on…”
the man’s warmth slightly backs up, you look up and see him removing his dress shoes and whatever else he had on. satoru’s weight made the bed dip soon after. your body was gently flipped to land on your stomach, “i wanna taste you, like this. that’s fine?”
it could very well be your last wish to be eaten like this, the pillow under your head was cold, but did very little to calm the heat.
“y– yeah.. please.”
his warm fingers grip your hips, guiding them to lift up into the air. it was instinctive to be this vulnerable after so long. satoru understood you even with the little words that were shared.
your back arched quickly after every hair on your body was raised the second his breath reached your core.
a kiss landed on your entry, earning him a soft moan.
“you’re wet… feel that?”
you moan again, satoru was teasing you without even noticing it.
his lips kissed you again, before pulling away, his tongue slipped out to taste the leaking juices.
“augh… fuck.”
with each lick, your moans were muffled into the cotton of your pillow.
your legs start to shake at the new feeling, satoru’s middle finger slowly starts to slide between his mouth’s licking and your entrance. every spasm your hole did, it released even more slick. he noticed it and began to gather it. surely his finger will slip in easily.
knuckle deep now, satoru was exploring your gummy walls.
your moans grew in pitch, “m– mmh!”
“right here?”
just as you were about to answer, more of your juices spilled out around his middle finger. he pulled back and gathered what was ushered out. after coating both his middle and ring finger with your own creation, satoru slipped them back in.
your body coiled up and moved forward, pushing yourself into the pillow. your knees almost gave out from how far his fingers reached.
sure they were large, but after so long, he was making you so wet from just a few touches.
the moans easily slipped from your lips. thank goodness you dismissed the maids beforehand.
sloppy noises filled the room. he wasn’t even using his mouth anymore.
“it’s good?”
“y– yeah.. mmh.. gonna come.”
satoru moves on the bed, his face was now beside yours as you continued arching your back. the pace was nowhere near slowing down.
“already? do you want it like this?”
“no.. nooo..”
“okay, princess. hold on for a sec.”
he kisses your jaw as your wetness was drowning him by the second. every time he pushed back in, your walls clenched. desperate to keep him in.
a moan slipped from his lips.
satoru pulls his hand away and kisses your jaw again, “how do you want it?”
it took you a second to slow your heart down and respond to his question. you wanted to intake this entire thing in before making a decision.
“i just wanna look at you.”
his soft hair rubs against your temple before nodding, “alright. turn around.”
you give out your knees to land on your tummy, the burning began as you lay like a board. he laughs and flips you back around.
he looked so sexy, like a wet dream come true.
your legs wrapped around him so innocently, satoru couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you. the entire night bled into morning, his hand’s movements ultimately left you exhausted.
sunlight became his alarm from how bright it shone through your curtains. he started to move, “good morning. you slept well?”
“yeah. it’s been a long time since that’s happened.”
“i can tell. thank goodness it’s saturday.”
satoru stands up and begins to look around the room for his lost clothing items, “need anything?”
“you’re leaving?”
“just gathering my things, i’m not that much of an animal.”
in a few seconds, he was back in bed with you. wrapped in his unforgettable scent, the tears shamefully began to fall.
satoru noticed, but didn’t ask.
he left before your maids could even begin their work.
and that was that. you figured he’d get his fill from breaking you.
but oh how wrong you were.
monday’s session was just a tad bit insane.
his usual eye wandering was even more intense. every movement you made, he was making sure to analyze.
“new stretches today! i hope everyone had a fun weekend, but we’re back in business.”
satoru had you all down on your back, shoulder rests on both sides of your face.
“your wrist straps have a longer option, we can expose ourselves to resistance on your strongest limbs. let me know if you need accommodation.”
as you look up from your position, you reach for the straps and place them on your feet. the tension instantly pulls your legs up. flailing and high in the air, satoru continued.
“try pulling down. slowly! we’re not in a race.”
with the little confidence you have at such an early time in the day, the weight of your legs pull down. the carriage rolls up. just as you were pulling up to restart, satoru walks up to your machine.
“nicely done. here..”
his strong hand grips one of your thighs, making your legs go limb and flail in the air again.
“not so fast… you’re gonna hurt yourself.”
“yeah.. sorry, the stra–”
“you can do it, maybe with a little encouragement?”
satoru’s hand reaches down and pushes down on your thigh, letting his thumb reach your core. he could feel the warmth you were emitting and your body instantly jumped from how easily his thumb found that little bundle of nerves.
“i studied, didn’t i?”
you nod and bit your bottom lip as his finger pushed through your leggings again, “pull down now.”
the strap around your ankles made your legs feel like noodles, all of your classmates were continuing there work out and somehow satoru was rubbing you off. no shame.
“s– satoru…”
a laugh finally came out of his lips, he left you to continue the stretch. the soft background music sounded even louder now.
“alright, it’s come down now. mid back to minimize.”
your breathing was loud, sweat rolled down from your temple to your neck. out of all places, he chose the most inappropriate place.
“foot work! don’t forget about ‘em.”
reformers whir at every step and turn for what felt like hours, “let’s take a break everyone. ten minutes.”
sighs filled the room, it felt ten degrees higher at just the memory of how satoru was touching you in the midst of class.
his eyes chase yours as soon as you sit up, “make it fifteen.”
your eyebrows cinch in confusion, the sweat on the back of your neck continued its descent down onto your back. he was signaling you to step out with those blue eyes of his.
not a second to waste, after he leaves the room, you follow after.
the carpet in the halls made it easy for you both to enter his office without much noise.
click.
his hands immediately land on your hips, taking your breath away with the weight of his kiss. dripping sweat between you both, he made you forget about it all.
it wasn’t supposed to happen here.
your first time with satoru was meant to be meticulously planned, maybe in some high-end hotel. but he was not going to waste time anymore, he settles you on top of his desk, desperate fingers pulled down your sticky leggings. the wetness between your legs was obvious; you reacted to the teasing in class. the grey sweats he had on were pulled down even faster, that undeniably long shaft was pulsing again. he didn’t even put it in you last time he was on your bed, only his fingers. but now it felt right after a good stretch.
you couldn’t leave him like this after how bold he’s gotten when he started rubbing you in front of everyone. your view was stuck on how he guided himself into you, the small window between you both was warm.
he bucked his hips at your sudden tightness, making the desk slightly move and moan.
“satoru.. don’t be too loud.”
“gimme a second…”
not even a second later, his hips started a pace. you were wrapped around his neck to stifle the humiliating moans that didn’t stop slipping out of you.
the slap of his thighs smacking the desk was even louder.
thunk, thunk, thunk.
darkness was all you saw from how hard you pinched your eyes closed. you didn’t even notice the change of speed until that blossoming pleasure took shape.
you were close.
satoru had not anticipated this.
but break time was almost over.
his hands guided you to lay down completely on the dark oak. your legs were pushed backwards, enabling satoru to reach in deeper.
your puffy lips looked even softer from the new angle. he pressed your legs further back, hips pistoning in with no remorse. he knew you were cumming.
one of your hands lands on your lips to attempt to minimize the noise. the clenching around his cock had an amusing rhythm. he pulls back when you finish and pumps a few strokes with his hand; the warm ropes land in his own palm.
deep breaths were shared, a bright blue tissue box stood balanced on the corner of his desk. satoru snorts and reaches over for it, “a miracle.”
you both abandon the office; it had been seventeen minutes since you both left. but who was counting? the way you pinched your thighs together with every step was not on purpose.
satoru let you leave early.
it was all his fault.
that same day, what should have been your embarkation in the afterglow, was ruined the moment you stepped into your home.
the halls weren’t their usual empty, his footsteps echoed and made it obvious. you weren’t allowed to run away from this life, even if you had put that ring away.
“you’re back? i was looking for you.”
a sting filled the back of your nose, that cologne he wore made you face away from him. his embrace didn’t feel the same.
everything had changed in an instant for the first time in forever.
after ten years of being a dutiful dove that knew where home was, this wasn’t what you wanted anymore.
“i was out.”
“the maids didn’t even know where you had run off to. is that all you have to say?”
“of course not. i missed you.”
your husband’s lips landed on the corner of yours, somewhat torturing you with the reminder of what you had done just a few moments ago with satoru.
it shouldn’t have happened, you thought to yourself.
this is where you should have stayed since the beginning.
“i’m visiting today, but i’ll be officially home by the end of the season.”
his words made you stiffen, the only response that you could provide was a wrinkled smile.
self indulgence was a sin, you knew that very will.
the second your husband turns to view what had changed in the span of his absence, you pick out your phone and message satoru.
about today, it shouldn’t have happened.
hey, what’s wrong?
did i hurt you?
he’s here now. and he’s all i’ve needed.
i’m sorry.
his no response made the tears build up. this is how it was going to end.
let me call you. please.
not today. maybe tomorrow.
you’re still coming for our session? we can talk.
it’s done, satoru. i don’t think we should.
i’ll call you then.
restlessness was holding on, your husband lays right beside you on the large bed. could he tell that someone else other than him laid in his spot?
the thought bit at your consciousness the entire night. your thin night gown did nothing to settle down the shame.
you stayed up for what felt like hours before you succumbed to your heavy eyelids. but the buzz under your pillow quickly woke you up.
it was satoru.
every step on the cold floor brought you to the lonely balcony across the entire penthouse. it looks over the city as the sun weakly began to shine through.
“hello?”
“hey, did i wake you?”
“maybe. i wasn’t that asleep.”
his sigh filled your ear, goosebumps rose on your skin from the bitter breeze.
“i’ll only ask you this once because i don’t have the right to judge you.”
a span of silence took over; it was silent on his end. but your background was echoing the ruckus of traffic.
“is this really what you want? i thought we were going steady.”
“satoru, he said he’s going to be back by the end of this spring.”
“so this is it?”
“it’s final. i shouldn’t have stepped over and messed with you.”
“but i love you.”
“don’t say that,” you replied as the tears that you had been holding in burst like an overflowing dam.
“you don’t deserve someone like me.”
“someone like you shouldn’t be living on eggshells all the time. let me talk with you. please.”
“no! i think this is where we draw the line. you got what you wanted, right?”
satoru scoffed, “are you inferring i see you as some challenge?”
“maybe you do. i’m just a married woman who has nothing to show.”
“you’re much more than that. let me prove it to you.”
“this is over. you can’t justify this– i certainly can’t. i’ll live with this on my sleeves from now on.”
“hold on… wait–”
your phone shuts off before he finishes. the world straight away swallows you whole while everyone in tokyo begins their day.
the following week was silent, even more soundless than before.
what had been the usual routine for the past few months was now completely shut off.
you wouldn’t allow yourself in that studio ever again when you knew very well that satoru stood there.
the conclusion that it’ll be easy for him to move on from whatever you two had going on came as a cope. satoru was the talk of the town. his heart had no taint from heartbreak, he was still young enough to remain taintless for the foreseeable future.
your husband, the reason for your dilemma, was away again with the promise of coming back.
of course, you had ended up all alone again.
the reflection that stared back from your dresser’s mirror was disheveled. repeated attempts to save yourself were pointless.
“ma’am, someone is looking for you.”
you jumped and looked at the maid from your angle in the mirror, “i don’t have any visitors.”
“it was a mr. gojo, ma’am.”
the makeup brush in your hand drops, you could feel the emotions inside of you build up again.
“there is no time for someone like that.”
“ma’am, must i tell him to go? or that you are busy?”
“whichever makes him leave the quickest. please.”
“very well. i shall have breakf–”
clash, bang, drop.
“you can’t just enter like that, mr. gojo!”
“i’m not intruding. i know my way around.”
“the missus is in no hurry to speak with y–”
the chaos behind your door was obvious. satoru had come on his own willing.
your maid cleared her throat, “ma’am, i assume it’s very urgent. he’s pulling the butler like a ragdoll.”
you nod in embarrassment, “i’ll be out. please have the day off. everyone else as well.”
“you’re too kind. are you sure you will be alright?”
“he’s not that type of guy.”
she mimics closing a zipper on her lips and walks off.
your empty living room harbored satoru in all his frustration. it had barely been a week, and satoru looks even more disordered than you.
the weight you carried in the halls made satoru stand up from your couch.
his eyes literally softened to catch a glimpse of you. anything to know you were there.
he was wearing a wrinkled hoodie and dark undereyes, a sign he was up for who knows how long.
“you’re fine. thank goodness.”
“why are you here?”
“seriously?”
“i’m not sure what else to say, satoru.”
“you can start by explaining why your phone has been off for days.”
“i don’t think that should be any of your business. not anymore. it frankly never has been.”
“quit this weird facade. why are you doing this?”
you looked away from him when that obvious blush came through, he was moving closer without even noticing.
“you want me, right? i thought you were doing all of this for yourself, not him. you told me the night we kissed.”
“satoru…”
his warm hand cups your cheek, making you look back at him, “look at me. just tell me face-to-face.”
“tell you what? that what we had wasn’t real?”
“it was real. it felt real to me.”
“satoru, i’m married.”
“we both knew that, right? why does it matter now that i’m ready to risk it all?”
his words ring in your ear, the sparkle that had left your eyes a long time ago was now back to haunt him.
of course, he noticed the fact you slipped on that stupid wedding band again. but frankly, satoru was tired of waiting.
his lips take you without letting another word slip through yours. the awkward outfit he had chosen that morning was stripped off. he knew his way around; that much was apparent when your back reaches the bed again.
every cloth you had worn was thrown across the entire bedroom. kisses littered your neck as he whispered, “choose me again… just like before.”
white sheets slip loose when his hands turn you around onto a prone.
satoru’s lips roam across your back as they muttered all the right words, “i’ll give you what you want. it’s what you deserve.”
a moan slips from your lips, the delicate tip of satoru’s cock prods between your inner-thighs, “maybe it won’t be the like this… but i’ll make it right.”
he rubs a few times before slipping in. the moan you let go of hits satoru’s ear directly. he stays behind you and nuzzles into your neck for closure.
“y– you promise, satoru?”
“with every breath in me.”
“okay…”
the man’s pace quickened at your agreement and made the large bed thump against the wall.
“m– mh.. ‘toru.”
“yeah? talk to me.”
“i love you.”
“you better mean it.”
your lover’s hands reach over and slip off the gold ring on your hand that was digging into the covers.
Pairings:
Nanami x reader x Higuruma
Toji x reader x Shiu
Naoya x reader x Choso
Satoru x reader x Suguru
Shoko x reader x Utahime
Sukuna x reader
You saw some stupid tiktok video of a girl walking up to a pair of random men and asking them to kiss.
You had the biggest lightbulb moment, you had people you could try this on... you just wanted to see their reaction, not expecting them to actually do it..... riiighhtt?
cw: gay, kissing, suggestive NOOT PROOFFREAD IM TIRED
Nanami and Hiromi
You worked in the same office as them. Both of them were the seniors in your department, but had taken you under their wings. They were caring and mature, able to have conversations with you openly about any topic you liked.
They were often seen together too.
So, at lunchtime... you struck.
You found them sitting both in some corner of the empty lounge room, drinking coffee.
Hiromi's downturned eyes found your the moment the door creaked open and you walked in with a grin.
Kento let out a small sigh, placing down his mug. "Did you forget to bring lunch again? How much do you need?" he was already reaching for his back pocket to pull out his wallet.
You snorted and shook your head, walking over and standing in front of the table, placing your palms down flat on the surface, eyes glimmering. The two men looked at you calmly, but it was clear they weren't sure what you were up to.
"Is something the matter? I'm sure we can resolve it." Hiromi spoke, his tone low but filled with care.
"Computer, make these guys super gay and horny."
Nanami gave you a look, his eyes slowly panning over to give Higuruma an unimpressed look.
Hiromi, a little taken aback, also looked over to the blonde.
"Cmon! Is that the only reaction i get?" You groaned, slumping as they just gave you side eyes. "Pleaseeee?"
"Is this... ahem, one of your tik toks?" Hiromi asked, a faint smile twitching up the corner of his lip.
Nanami looked like he was contemplating something.
"Maybe... just a jokeee..." You dramatically sighed, starting to push away from the table.
Kento, seeing you start to retreat, acted.
Your eyes went wide-
He grabbed Hiromi's tie, pulling him in, his hooked nose bumping against Nanami's straight one.
You squealed, a hand covering your mouth. You couldn't pull your eyes away, watching the two older gentlemen smirk at each other, lips almost touching.
But right as you'd hope they would kiss.... Kento let go of Higuruma and fixed his own tie.
Hiromi let out a faint chuckle, leaning back and fixing his tie.
"Angel, maybe we should schedule something outside of work sometime."
Toji and Shiu
You joined Shiu's company a while back. You knew you'd often find him with Toji.
You were just a secretary, Kong was your boss and Fushiguro was the damn sorcerer killer but i digress.
You had formed a sort of friendship.
Toji was a bit meaner and spoke bluntly, often teased... or flirted with you.
Shiu was a more gentle man, though he would blow his cig smoke in your face during breaks. You didn't smoke but liked to be in his company.
Last night you had seen a funny video, wanting to recreate it in real life with them. They seemed close enough that they could take a little joke.
You wandered into the back alley of the office building and found the two... sharing a ciggy.
Shiu was in the middle of passing it to Toji's fingers when they noticed you. The two looking amused already.
Toji slipped the half gone cancer stick between his scarred lips and took a slow drag.
You scurried over to the two, giving an innocent smile.
"Lost, doll?" Shiu laughed, leaning back against the brick building.
Toji snorted, blowing smoke in your direction. "Don't tell me you came out all this way to bring some damn papers.... or maybe you're here to start a new addiction." He took another inhale.
You shook your head, the light in your eyes shining brighter.
The two glanced at each other, not sure what to expect.
"Computa, make these guys supa gay and horny."
The sound of howling and barking laughs rang trough the ally. You watched as Toji doubled over, a hand grabbing onto Shiu's arm for balance. Your boss wasn't any better, throwing his head back to laugh.
"Is that... HAHA! is that all you came here to say?" Toji snorted, the cig dropping from his mouth.
"Can you two kiss, for me, pretty please?" You batted your eyelashes, trying to give them puppydog eyes and a cute smile
Shiu wiped one of his eyes, shaking his head "No way in hell-"
But his words were quickly swallowed by Toji tugging his arm down and crashing their mouths together.
You gasped, taking a step closer to watch.
They looked like they were a bit too into it, beefy arms pulling Shiu close by his suit and his hands grabbed onto Toji's neck, either to choke him or hold him closer.
You swear you could see tongue- but before you could get any closer, the man with the scarred lip pulled away and wiped his mouth, extending the other hand to you.
"Pay up, ten bucks, show wasn't free."
Shiu, looking a bit winded tried to look away, coughing to hide the faint blush on his neck.
Naoya and Choso
Naoya and Choso were rarely even seen in the same room together. They did not get along. at all. I mean, one is a puppy cutie patootie feminist and the other.... you'd rather slap him than listen to him talk.
Anyways.
You were having lunch outside, minding your business before you heard some arguing happening nearby, that familiar, cocky, cutesy tone of Naoya's shredding your eardrums.
You sighed, putting your lunch away and heading right over.
You found the black and blonde men, standing with arms crossed and frowns on their face.
"You should never say such things about a woman."
"Dooon't care, if she breathes, shes a THOT."
"What does that even mean???"
Your poor baby Choso looked like he was upset, you had to jump in and save him.
Think think think think... what wouldn't lead to you getting grilled by Naoya too...
You walked up to the two, and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"Computa, make these guys supppa gay and horny."
Instant silence.
Choso, now finally noicing you, looked happier already but your words made gim look confused again. "h...hhuh? What does that me-"
"GAY? WHO ARE YOU CALLING GAY?" Naoya's sharp eyes found yours, voice getting a pitch higher while pointing a finger at you now, rudely cutting off Choso.
"What? i said MAKE gay, not that you are. Are you getting so defensive because you are a homosexual?" You tilted your head.
Choso, now even more confused by these terminologies finally spoke up. "I... can be gay and horny for you, if that's what you'd like. " He gave you a shy smile.
Naoya frowned, glaring over to Choso. "Are you even hearing yourself? You'd let a woman tell you what to do?" he scoffed.
Choso nodded, eyes not even glancing over to Naoya, focusing on you, as if you'd tell him what exactly to do now.
"You both are weird… i was just joking….." you shook your head, heading away from the odd pair. You had done your job.
…
"Should we be gay and horny for her?" Choso asked Naoya while watching you leave.
"NO!"
Satoru and Suguru
You already knew that your two best friends had something going on.
So you had the perfect idea how to test your theory about them being secretly together.
You found them at their usual spot, at some wending machine Satoru had already bought out and was trying to shake the last bag of candy out while Suguru just watched, letting the white haired man struggle.
"Guyysss!!!" You called while running over, your phone in hand.
Satoru groaned, kicking the vending machine one last time before turning and giving you a wide, toothy grin, eyes behind the blindfold focusing on you. "My favourite weakling!"
"Our favourite weakling. toru" Geto corrected, leaning off of the wall to crowd you.
You started recording with your phone, pointing the camera up at them probably at some bad 0.5 angle.
You cleared your throat and spoke. "Computa, make these guys supaaa gay and horny. Kiss."
Suguru blinked, tilting his head before glancing over to Satoru "What?"
Satoru paled, quickly shoving his hand on your phone and whisper-shouting to Suguru "DOES SHE KNOW?"
Suguru leaned over and did the same. "I THINK SHE KNOWS."
"Are you two gonna kiss or nah? Computa, make them hurry up. " You huffed, trying to wrench your phone our of Satorus fingers so you could film it.
Satoru almost whimpered, turning red and shifting to stand behind Suguru, hiding from you. "HOW DO YOU KNOW?"
"Know what? Bro just a lil peck-"
Suguru, ever the mediator turned his head to the side to place a soft kiss on Gojo's cheek.
you got it on a video.
New goon material.
Shoko and Utahime
You were in a little friendgroup with Shoko and Utahime, you went to college together and took the same courses- after doing some group project you became close friends.
As girlfriends often do, you spent every other weekend together, either having a drink or two or having sleepovers.
Today, you were at Utahimes apartment, bundled up in a blanket while the three of you lay together on the bed, having your silent tiktok scrolling time.
You scrolled and found a funny video, wanting to make a joke about it you loudly repeated it for the other two to hear.
"Computa, make these girl supa gay and horny." You giggled after saying it, sitting up to see if they were laughing too.
Shoko just gave you a small smirk, pushing herself up to sit. Utahime looked a bit more blank, staying laid down.
"Are you trying to tell us something, cutie?" Shoko laughed, poking at your side.
Utahime rolled her eyes but managed to get up as well. "You know that me and Shoko are dating, right?"
Your jaw almost fell off the damn hinges. You, in fact, did not know. "HUH? NONO IM JUST SAYING A TIKTOKIHEARDI-" You panicked, now worried you might have messed something up.
Leiri just laughed, leaning over and pulling at Utahimes arm, them both leaning their faces together, right in front of you. "Want us to be 'supa gay and horny' right in front of you?" She asked, giving you a smile. Utahime's face had gone red, even the large scar across her face looking like it was getting pinker.
You gulped, but gave a small nod, the video on your phone forgotten, you had just wanted to share with new niche reference but now you had somehow found yourself watching two of the hottest women ever make out in front of you.
You watched as they slowly got closer, basically climbing out of the bedsheets to hold hands while having a sensual, wet make out session-
"Stop staring and join..." Lori mumbled out after pulling away, brown eyes meeting yours, Shoko moving down to kiss at her neck.
Sukuna
Now you see, this is meant for two people. But Sukuna has two mouths soooo....
"Sukuuuu!" You cheerfully bounced over to him.
The beefy, monstrous man was in his garden, trying to write some haikus. In peace and quiet.
But, of course your dumbass had to come annoy him.
"Speak, woman. I'll gut you if it is something foolish. I'm busy." He spoke, not even bothering to look over to you, holding his calligraphy brush in one of his many hands.
"Would you mind showing me how you move your second mouth to your palm?" You innocently smiled, padding up to him and leaning over his side.
He grunted, assuming it was all you wanted. Sukuna lifted his lower arm, side eyeing you before materializing the mouth from his stomach up to the palm. It grinned at you, tongue wanting to peek out. "Done?"
"Can you hold it up higher, i can't see..."
Higher? Foolish woman.
He exhaled, lifting his hand up.
"Could you put it near your face, i wanna see if its any different than your face.. mouth!"
He was so done. "Bossy." But lifted it anyways, this really being the last thing he'd do.
"Computa, make this guy supa gay and horn-" You tried to get out, grabbing his wrist to try and turn the hand mouth to his.. other mouth, wanting to have him kiss himself.
But Sukuna was faster.
Your vision went blurry and you fainted.
The bastard used cleave on you.
"Closed mouths don't get fed. They might get sliced in half though." - Yoon Goon, 2026
Pairings:
Nanami x reader x Higuruma
Toji x reader x Shiu
Naoya x reader x Choso
Satoru x reader x Suguru
Shoko x reader x Utahime
Sukuna x reader
You saw some stupid tiktok video of a girl walking up to a pair of random men and asking them to kiss.
You had the biggest lightbulb moment, you had people you could try this on... you just wanted to see their reaction, not expecting them to actually do it..... riiighhtt?
cw: gay, kissing, suggestive NOOT PROOFFREAD IM TIRED
Nanami and Hiromi
You worked in the same office as them. Both of them were the seniors in your department, but had taken you under their wings. They were caring and mature, able to have conversations with you openly about any topic you liked.
They were often seen together too.
So, at lunchtime... you struck.
You found them sitting both in some corner of the empty lounge room, drinking coffee.
Hiromi's downturned eyes found your the moment the door creaked open and you walked in with a grin.
Kento let out a small sigh, placing down his mug. "Did you forget to bring lunch again? How much do you need?" he was already reaching for his back pocket to pull out his wallet.
You snorted and shook your head, walking over and standing in front of the table, placing your palms down flat on the surface, eyes glimmering. The two men looked at you calmly, but it was clear they weren't sure what you were up to.
"Is something the matter? I'm sure we can resolve it." Hiromi spoke, his tone low but filled with care.
"Computer, make these guys super gay and horny."
Nanami gave you a look, his eyes slowly panning over to give Higuruma an unimpressed look.
Hiromi, a little taken aback, also looked over to the blonde.
"Cmon! Is that the only reaction i get?" You groaned, slumping as they just gave you side eyes. "Pleaseeee?"
"Is this... ahem, one of your tik toks?" Hiromi asked, a faint smile twitching up the corner of his lip.
Nanami looked like he was contemplating something.
"Maybe... just a jokeee..." You dramatically sighed, starting to push away from the table.
Kento, seeing you start to retreat, acted.
Your eyes went wide-
He grabbed Hiromi's tie, pulling him in, his hooked nose bumping against Nanami's straight one.
You squealed, a hand covering your mouth. You couldn't pull your eyes away, watching the two older gentlemen smirk at each other, lips almost touching.
But right as you'd hope they would kiss.... Kento let go of Higuruma and fixed his own tie.
Hiromi let out a faint chuckle, leaning back and fixing his tie.
"Angel, maybe we should schedule something outside of work sometime."
Toji and Shiu
You joined Shiu's company a while back. You knew you'd often find him with Toji.
You were just a secretary, Kong was your boss and Fushiguro was the damn sorcerer killer but i digress.
You had formed a sort of friendship.
Toji was a bit meaner and spoke bluntly, often teased... or flirted with you.
Shiu was a more gentle man, though he would blow his cig smoke in your face during breaks. You didn't smoke but liked to be in his company.
Last night you had seen a funny video, wanting to recreate it in real life with them. They seemed close enough that they could take a little joke.
You wandered into the back alley of the office building and found the two... sharing a ciggy.
Shiu was in the middle of passing it to Toji's fingers when they noticed you. The two looking amused already.
Toji slipped the half gone cancer stick between his scarred lips and took a slow drag.
You scurried over to the two, giving an innocent smile.
"Lost, doll?" Shiu laughed, leaning back against the brick building.
Toji snorted, blowing smoke in your direction. "Don't tell me you came out all this way to bring some damn papers.... or maybe you're here to start a new addiction." He took another inhale.
You shook your head, the light in your eyes shining brighter.
The two glanced at each other, not sure what to expect.
"Computa, make these guys supa gay and horny."
The sound of howling and barking laughs rang trough the ally. You watched as Toji doubled over, a hand grabbing onto Shiu's arm for balance. Your boss wasn't any better, throwing his head back to laugh.
"Is that... HAHA! is that all you came here to say?" Toji snorted, the cig dropping from his mouth.
"Can you two kiss, for me, pretty please?" You batted your eyelashes, trying to give them puppydog eyes and a cute smile
Shiu wiped one of his eyes, shaking his head "No way in hell-"
But his words were quickly swallowed by Toji tugging his arm down and crashing their mouths together.
You gasped, taking a step closer to watch.
They looked like they were a bit too into it, beefy arms pulling Shiu close by his suit and his hands grabbed onto Toji's neck, either to choke him or hold him closer.
You swear you could see tongue- but before you could get any closer, the man with the scarred lip pulled away and wiped his mouth, extending the other hand to you.
"Pay up, ten bucks, show wasn't free."
Shiu, looking a bit winded tried to look away, coughing to hide the faint blush on his neck.
Naoya and Choso
Naoya and Choso were rarely even seen in the same room together. They did not get along. at all. I mean, one is a puppy cutie patootie feminist and the other.... you'd rather slap him than listen to him talk.
Anyways.
You were having lunch outside, minding your business before you heard some arguing happening nearby, that familiar, cocky, cutesy tone of Naoya's shredding your eardrums.
You sighed, putting your lunch away and heading right over.
You found the black and blonde men, standing with arms crossed and frowns on their face.
"You should never say such things about a woman."
"Dooon't care, if she breathes, shes a THOT."
"What does that even mean???"
Your poor baby Choso looked like he was upset, you had to jump in and save him.
Think think think think... what wouldn't lead to you getting grilled by Naoya too...
You walked up to the two, and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"Computa, make these guys supppa gay and horny."
Instant silence.
Choso, now finally noicing you, looked happier already but your words made gim look confused again. "h...hhuh? What does that me-"
"GAY? WHO ARE YOU CALLING GAY?" Naoya's sharp eyes found yours, voice getting a pitch higher while pointing a finger at you now, rudely cutting off Choso.
"What? i said MAKE gay, not that you are. Are you getting so defensive because you are a homosexual?" You tilted your head.
Choso, now even more confused by these terminologies finally spoke up. "I... can be gay and horny for you, if that's what you'd like. " He gave you a shy smile.
Naoya frowned, glaring over to Choso. "Are you even hearing yourself? You'd let a woman tell you what to do?" he scoffed.
Choso nodded, eyes not even glancing over to Naoya, focusing on you, as if you'd tell him what exactly to do now.
"You both are weird… i was just joking….." you shook your head, heading away from the odd pair. You had done your job.
…
"Should we be gay and horny for her?" Choso asked Naoya while watching you leave.
"NO!"
Satoru and Suguru
You already knew that your two best friends had something going on.
So you had the perfect idea how to test your theory about them being secretly together.
You found them at their usual spot, at some wending machine Satoru had already bought out and was trying to shake the last bag of candy out while Suguru just watched, letting the white haired man struggle.
"Guyysss!!!" You called while running over, your phone in hand.
Satoru groaned, kicking the vending machine one last time before turning and giving you a wide, toothy grin, eyes behind the blindfold focusing on you. "My favourite weakling!"
"Our favourite weakling. toru" Geto corrected, leaning off of the wall to crowd you.
You started recording with your phone, pointing the camera up at them probably at some bad 0.5 angle.
You cleared your throat and spoke. "Computa, make these guys supaaa gay and horny. Kiss."
Suguru blinked, tilting his head before glancing over to Satoru "What?"
Satoru paled, quickly shoving his hand on your phone and whisper-shouting to Suguru "DOES SHE KNOW?"
Suguru leaned over and did the same. "I THINK SHE KNOWS."
"Are you two gonna kiss or nah? Computa, make them hurry up. " You huffed, trying to wrench your phone our of Satorus fingers so you could film it.
Satoru almost whimpered, turning red and shifting to stand behind Suguru, hiding from you. "HOW DO YOU KNOW?"
"Know what? Bro just a lil peck-"
Suguru, ever the mediator turned his head to the side to place a soft kiss on Gojo's cheek.
you got it on a video.
New goon material.
Shoko and Utahime
You were in a little friendgroup with Shoko and Utahime, you went to college together and took the same courses- after doing some group project you became close friends.
As girlfriends often do, you spent every other weekend together, either having a drink or two or having sleepovers.
Today, you were at Utahimes apartment, bundled up in a blanket while the three of you lay together on the bed, having your silent tiktok scrolling time.
You scrolled and found a funny video, wanting to make a joke about it you loudly repeated it for the other two to hear.
"Computa, make these girl supa gay and horny." You giggled after saying it, sitting up to see if they were laughing too.
Shoko just gave you a small smirk, pushing herself up to sit. Utahime looked a bit more blank, staying laid down.
"Are you trying to tell us something, cutie?" Shoko laughed, poking at your side.
Utahime rolled her eyes but managed to get up as well. "You know that me and Shoko are dating, right?"
Your jaw almost fell off the damn hinges. You, in fact, did not know. "HUH? NONO IM JUST SAYING A TIKTOKIHEARDI-" You panicked, now worried you might have messed something up.
Leiri just laughed, leaning over and pulling at Utahimes arm, them both leaning their faces together, right in front of you. "Want us to be 'supa gay and horny' right in front of you?" She asked, giving you a smile. Utahime's face had gone red, even the large scar across her face looking like it was getting pinker.
You gulped, but gave a small nod, the video on your phone forgotten, you had just wanted to share with new niche reference but now you had somehow found yourself watching two of the hottest women ever make out in front of you.
You watched as they slowly got closer, basically climbing out of the bedsheets to hold hands while having a sensual, wet make out session-
"Stop staring and join..." Lori mumbled out after pulling away, brown eyes meeting yours, Shoko moving down to kiss at her neck.
Sukuna
Now you see, this is meant for two people. But Sukuna has two mouths soooo....
"Sukuuuu!" You cheerfully bounced over to him.
The beefy, monstrous man was in his garden, trying to write some haikus. In peace and quiet.
But, of course your dumbass had to come annoy him.
"Speak, woman. I'll gut you if it is something foolish. I'm busy." He spoke, not even bothering to look over to you, holding his calligraphy brush in one of his many hands.
"Would you mind showing me how you move your second mouth to your palm?" You innocently smiled, padding up to him and leaning over his side.
He grunted, assuming it was all you wanted. Sukuna lifted his lower arm, side eyeing you before materializing the mouth from his stomach up to the palm. It grinned at you, tongue wanting to peek out. "Done?"
"Can you hold it up higher, i can't see..."
Higher? Foolish woman.
He exhaled, lifting his hand up.
"Could you put it near your face, i wanna see if its any different than your face.. mouth!"
He was so done. "Bossy." But lifted it anyways, this really being the last thing he'd do.
"Computa, make this guy supa gay and horn-" You tried to get out, grabbing his wrist to try and turn the hand mouth to his.. other mouth, wanting to have him kiss himself.
But Sukuna was faster.
Your vision went blurry and you fainted.
The bastard used cleave on you.
"Closed mouths don't get fed. They might get sliced in half though." - Yoon Goon, 2026
"It wasn't supposed to mean anything..."
"...It doesn't have to."
pairing: trainer!gojo x fem!reader
synopsis: in which he corrects more than your form. . .
warnings: explic!t content, minors and ageless dni, fluff, a lil angst, smut smut smut, gym setting, satoru is kinda mean, sweaty sex, tension, manhandling, cunningulus, satoru carries u like a freak, p in v, risky sex
w/c: 2.1k
a/n: my entry in @sugusplaything 's 1k event! ( > 〰 < )♡ ALY IS SO REAL FOR THIS IDEA kkkk~ congrats on 1k bb~! everyone go show Aly some luv~!
It’s a good thing Satoru’s apartment complex gym was almost empty. The way he was shouting at you would have surely gotten security called on you any other time.
“Up, up, up!!”
“I can’t!”
“You can!” Satoru clapped his hands next to your ear, too fucking loudly…
“I——fuck…!”
**THUNK**
The bar and all 125lbs on its ends clattered onto the rubber floor at your feet. You groaned out in frustration. You were an hour into this session, tucked in the free weights corner, starting to go stir-crazy with this low-grade terrorist breathing down your neck…
“You had it…” Satoru whined.
“I didn’t…” you panted out, “This is too hard…”
“Because you’re not hinging at the hip like I told you.”
“I was hinging at the hip! I told you that this was too much weight for me…”
“You can do double this on the leg press.”
“That’s different.”
Satoru huffed. “With that attitude, you won’t improve.”
“Not everyone can be the strongest in the gym like you, beefcake.”
“First of all, I’m not classified as a beefcake, sweetheart. I have what’s known as a sleeper-build. Model physique at first glance. Easily hidden under fits like this,” he playfully tugged at the strings of his grey sweatpants. “People only know I’m the strongest after I clear their PR.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m not paying you to gloat.”
“You’re not paying me at all. You’re a friend of a friend and I’m doin’ you a favor.”
“Ugh… Some favor… You want ’death by deadlift’ on my tombstone…” you muttered under your breath, legs trembling as you left the bar to grab your water.
“Go spend $700 at Equinox if you want someone to kiss your ass instead of help you build it up,” Satoru rebutted, entirely too seriously.
“You’re a pain in the ass.”
“I’m trying to be. Better your ass than your quads—which is where the pain will be tomorrow if you don’t fix that form.”
“Why don’t you fix it for me?” you jeered.
“…If I get hands on, you’re going to failure.”
…
Again, in response to your joke, Satoru was too serious.
It took you locking eyes with his icy blues to register that his tone was intentional.
Your nerves manifested themselves as sweat on your brow. More sweat than that last brutal set induced. “…I’ve never gone to failure before.”
Satoru’s heart tugged at the fear in your voice.
You were still a little cardio bunny…
“Just this once,” he said softly, “I want you to see that you can do it.”
“…If I go to failure…what happens?”
“Your legs will give out. But you’ll be fine. You just can’t lift heavy again for a day or two.”
You shifted back and forth in your Converse. Still hesitant.
“C’mon, indulge me,” Satoru pleaded. “I can’t let you ruin my rep as a trainer. All my lil’ lifters are success stories. You won’t be breaking my streak.”
He was lucky you weren’t a quitter.
…
When he said hands on—he wasn't kidding.
Satoru stood behind you and guided you through the proper hinge motion with a lower weight, being somewhat discreet as he pressed his hips into yours at the crucial moments…
He added more weight, then kicked your feet into a more efficient position to accommodate for the flare of your hips.
Then he positioned your hands on the bar, just right…
“One, two, three,” Satoru’s voice was steady in your ear.
And———!
You lifted it!
——And your legs…really did give out.
“Whoa!”
…
Satoru was right behind you, and he caught the bar on either side of your hands, helping you lower it safely. Before you fell over, he caught you, helping you stand proudly at full height, praising you, “See! I knew you’d get it~!”
“Satoru, that was crazy… How…”
“I’m a good sensei.”
“You…” You shifted in his hold, eyes darting all over his smug face.
He leaned in, already well aware of what you wanted, “What~?”
“I——”
Words failed you.
But your lips still remembered…
You were gentle. He was not.
He had been waiting too long.
“I knew it,” he broke the kiss, “I knew you were only mean because you still want me,” Satoru grinned, holding your head in his hands, tearing apart your resolve with just his eyes…
“You were mean to me first…”
“That was business. You want pleasure instead?”
!
Yeah. You remembered. You remembered this whole time. He couldn’t resist anymore. The look he gave you was hardly fair… Should be reserved for the square footage of a bedroom…
You hesitated, "Satoru, it was one drunk night... It wasn’t supposed to mean anything."
"It doesn’t have to."
—!
“Is this a habit of yours? Seducing your trainees?”
“Nah… You’re the first to make me crack.”
He gripped at your ass and thighs, pulling you up into him and on your toes…
“You feel that? Feel this hard work?”
His words were two-faced, one side referencing your glute throbbing under his touch, and the other side…his stiff cock pressing into your stomach through his hoodie…
“You did such a good job…”
“Satouru…please…”
Satoru heard the desperation return to your voice, and had to think. He had never hooked up with anyone in his apartment gym before…
…
Just this once wouldn't hurt.
“Listen to me,” he lowly murmured on your lips, “We’re both gonna go wash our hands…get these gym germs off… Then—if you’re serious—meet me in the studio room…for some cardio.”
…
You nodded and on wobbly legs, went to the ladies locker room, heart already fucking racing…
As you washed your hands, you bashfully read a sign that detailed all of the things not allowed in the apartment gym:
No needles or steroids.
No fighting or aggressive behavior.
No nudity beyond the locker room.
…
No sexual conduct.
…
Fixing your hair was a deeply unserious task. You knew it was about to be ruined, but you primped anyway, wanting to at least appear like you were prepared for this…
…
You arrived at the studio room. The lights were off… But you could hear Satoru’s faint grunting. As you got closer, you saw him near the studio’s mirror wall with his shirt off. It was under his hand on the floor, and he was doing pushups on it… One-handed...
…
You smirked. “You want to warm up to fuck me?”
“Don't question my methods… Come sit and count for me. I’m on 70.” He held that plank, offering the rippling expanse of his shoulders as a throne for you.
!
“Y-you want me to sit on y-“
“Yes, yes, sweetheart, on me,” he laughed, “Hurry up. My dick keeps poking the floor through my pants, waitin’ on ya’…”
You laugh, taking off your shoes…sitting pretty…
And Satoru adjusted his hands into a diamond, dipping and rising as you counted…
Working up a little sweat, now…
Making you giggle nervously in between each number…
He didn’t have a number in mind, he was just playing with your weight and getting a little pump in. Waiting until he could feel that wet pussy soaking through your leggings and onto his back…
It only took 30 more.
…
“100, solid.” He pushed up to a halt. “Get up and take those leggings off…”
“All the way?” you slid off of him, flushing at the damp spot you left between his shoulder blades… “Satoru… We’ll get caught…”
“Camera’s covered,” he got up and nodded to the camera in the corner above the door. A gym towel was draped over it. “You want me to take ‘em off for ya’?” He got close to you before you could answer. Kneeling down and hooking his fingers into the stretchy waistband, swiftly yanking them down over your hips and ass, making you yelp.
“Mmmmmfffuck... Missed you…” Satoru mumbled against your lower stomach, hiking one thigh onto his shoulders and promptly kissing your labia. He parted them gently with his tongue, then latched onto your clit, making you fold over him right away~!
Your sighs of delight bounced off the echoey surfaces in the studio, and Satoru’s grip on you was iron-clad.
He hooked your other thigh up, braced your lower back with his palms and picked—you—up~!
Up…
Up higher…
The cold mirror sent a chill through your back as Satoru held you up against it. You panicked, slapping your tacky hands against the mirror, and then anchoring them in his hair.
“Satoru~u~!” you panted, brow furrowing as your watch buzzed at you with a heart rate alert… “Don’t drop me!”
“Stop worrying and cum on my tongue,” he grunted, squeezing his fingers into your hips to remind you of how strong he was…
You really weren’t going anywhere. Satoru had you glued to this mirror, looking into your pussy with more admiration for her than his own reflection…
His tongue swirled deeply inside of your crevice, then back out again to flatten and rub on your clit… Harder… Rubbing his nose in it~!
“Oh—fuck~! Yeah~!”
Satoru lapped up every bit of your cream as you came for him. He inhaled deeply, your sweat and pheromones hitting him like a dry scoop of creatine…
You were half whimpering from the pleasure, and half from the fear of being up so high…
Just as you caught your breath, blinking your eyes open, Satoru pulled away from the apex of your thighs—and dropped you.
……..!
You yelped~!
Hands under your ass, he caught you, chuckling at how he managed to scare you. Then he caged you against the mirror again, this time, pinning you with his hips. His cock was stiff, poking around at your thighs and abdomen…
Still dealing with that pit in your stomach, you hooked your legs around him, fearful of hitting the hard studio floor.
“I’m not gonna drop ya’,” Satoru dipped down to kiss your lips, focusing your attention back on him. “You’re barely a warm-up weight for me, sweetheart.”
You licked your lip, cheeks still warmed with the ecstasy his tongue gave you. You shifted in his hold, eyes taking in Satoru’s sweaty, flexing arms secured around you… You could see his blood pumping in his veins…
He smelled so good—sandalwood, sweat, sex…
“And those pushups made my traps the perfect handles for you,” Satoru broke you from your ogling, “You’re welcome, grab on.”
You should have listened sooner… “Fuck! Satoru~u~u!!”
Your hands eventually did find those handles of his, and you held on for dear life as he lined himself up, and slid you onto him, setting an agile pace. He held you up, fucking into you against that mirror with the discipline only a real lifter could have…
He never let you fall. Not even a slip.
He pounded you heavy, making sure to hit that tight spot you had trouble with loosening… Kissed your face, your neck, your tits… Made you cum two…three more times, praising your flexibility and endurance…making you cry out his name…making you dig your nails in deeper…
Satoru was in too deep, looking at this beautiful thing taking his cock in three different angles with the studio mirrors…
You looked good together. He always knew it, but seeing it in his happy place made it that much better.
Wasn’t too long before he was pulling out, splattering the mirror below you with white. The sounds of his heavy release made you laugh. That was a close one… “If I knew you were this horny, we could have skipped the gym…”
“No,” he panted out into your mouth, “I wanted to help you,”
“Oh, you helped me, alright…” you caught your breath, pushing your hair out of your face and giving him one more sweet kiss.
He guided you down, settling you to lean against the mirror while he crouched to get your leggings over your feet.
“I can help you whenever you want, by the way. You don’t need a reason,” Satoru said, kissing your thigh as he pulled your garment up, “Just ask me.”
You ruffled his hair, sighing, “Help me clean up the mirror, then take me to your shower… We made such a mess…”
He smiled confidently, cheeks rosy…excited for more with you... “We‘re gonna make a mess in the shower, too. Anywhere you come with me will be left a mess. Get used to it, babe.”
cw: (7.9k wc, apx. 32 mins.) minors dni, public & private sex (p in v), older reader (thirty years old), satoru is in his twenties, infidelity, sweat, denial, fingering, no use of “y/n”, idk how what else. mb.
a/n: (art creds: thatsallitchief on x) hi cuties! first and foremost, i wanna thank you for your patience and support. i went mia because of some personal issues and to study for my midterms.. i used my spring break as an opportunity to write what i can. i wanna catch up to my promises! now, to make it short and bring all the spotlight to my amazing mutual aly (@sugusplaything), this work is a part of an event/collab in celebration of her reaching 1k followers! standing ovations and bunch of hugs! thank you aly for letting me participate. <3 please consider going to her page and supporting her, and with love, please keep an eye out for all the other works my peers have put their blood and sweat into. they’re all jjk themed and being released as we speak! (the event post for this collab is linked below under “just this once”). and lastly, like always of course… enjoy. maybe play "professional" by the weeknd ;)
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ masterlist | just this once | read on ao3 𖥔 ݁ ˖
a wedding ring couldn’t stop you from eyeing your pilates trainer and blushing like a teenage girl whenever he complimented your endurance, even if you were just a new face in his beginner’s class. and it’s not like your neglectful husband would ever find out what you do on your free time because it wasn’t supposed to mean anything… right?
ten years passed by way faster than they should have. it was embarrassing to look back at how little had happened throughout your entire marriage.
it all seemed like a lie, a ruse to be seen as a true love story to others. more specifically, to your family and hometown.
everyday felt the same. the same walls of your penthouse haunted you with their blankness and there was nothing that brought you joy. much less the wedding band that adorned your finger.
a decoration. an illusion.
it glistened at the weak morning light. you were sitting on your kitchen island, sipping on some warm tea after another all-nighter.
chamomile, it soothed your throat from how hard you had been holding in your tears throughout the entire night.
your husband?
a wealthy business man that was nowhere to be seen. he was probably on another work trip, doing who knows what.
he was your high school sweetheart, you got engaged the night you both graduated from college. it wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. but of course, your old-fashioned family would never let you leave if you had been thinking of eloping.
and so by the end of summer, before you both moved across the nation to the heart of tokyo, the wedding was planned. it small and last-minute.
cheap lace and wine. the chairs were full of people whom you had never even heard of since you were a kid.
but it was all you needed to feel wanted.
you continued sipping on your tea, letting your eyes doze off into the distance. you could see one of the housemaids dusting your custom furniture in the living room. by the time you snapped back into reality, said maid was in front of you holding a grand bouquet.
“ma’am…? is the dining room fine?”
“oh… yes.”
“they’re beautiful ma’am. lilies.”
you sipped again before replying, “they are, aren’t they?”
“of course, he chose wisely, and it has been a while since he’s sent any.”
your eyes slightly widened at the realization, “he did?”
a nod and a soft smile were what you earned from that foolish question.
the tea in your hands was fashionably placed down, you took a break and left to go back into your master bedroom, desperately holding in the bitter tears he didn’t deserve.
it had been far too long since he said anything to you, much longer since he visited you and this far too lonely home.
he promised, didn't he? that he would cherish your youth?
the days stretched from boredom, but somehow the years stacked on faster. you were thirty now and still wanted so much. he made it seem so easy to forget about dreams despite the fact you both moved away from comfort, all in hopes for him to achieve his.
were your dreams really that unimportant?
your master bedroom was large, far too big for someone who basically lived alone.
but you have a secret in the midst of your ostracization. other than growing a bad habit of spending your husband’s “hard-earned” money on things that you didn’t even need (this was in the beginning, all in the hopes of somehow earning the attention of your husband even if it was in a bad light), you have been attending a beginner’s reformer pilates class. it was three times a week and with the hottest instructor.
the class is well known throughout the entire city because of him.
satoru gojo.
blue crystal eyes that pulled your breath away with just one look, his white hair lulled like waves, and somehow made you feel safe.
it was all a distraction to get away from home. he was eye candy and a sight for your sore eyes, if you will.
the morning sun was continuing its rise, and you wasted no time getting ready for your session.
satoru had complimented you a while back about how easily you grasped routines, and there was no way you’d hold back.
he had your attention, just as much as you had his.
maybe it was in a different way, but it felt good to walk in and be with him.
you slip on some black leggings and a gym top that squished your bust just right.
it felt wrong, but so right. your heartbeat fluttered at just the thought of him looking at you.
and after leaving home in a rush because of spending so much time on your hair, you somehow ended up being the first one to show up. the studio was still empty, you had the choice of walking to your unassigned assigned machine. obviously, it stands right next to satoru’s. stocked away in the corner, you had no shame to be bold. this was the only place you could feel a little thrill after so long.
but before you could set down your items beside your machine, you hear the door behind you slide open.
his footsteps were light and somewhat graceful. you had unintentionally studied them like they were homework.
the soft blush on your cheeks rose without any thought, awkwardly standing there, you were fighting the urge to turn around. what would you say? would he even say “good morning” with that sweet tone of his?
“good morning.. you’re early. again.”
the vibration of his voice instantly brings chills down your spine, and as you move to turn around to look at him, he was wearing that black compression shirt of his. chiseled muscles breaking through, and the warm lights of his studio made it much easier for them to be noticeable.
quickly, you look away and slightly bite your lip, “good morning.. yeah.. i tend to sleep badly. i was already up.”
he hums and moves to the machine beside yours, “you didn’t sleep well?”
satoru places down his waterbottle and begins to change the tension in his reformer, but he was still looking at you. he was giving you all the attention that he could while maintaining productivity.
“i don’t sleep well.”
“you know, i think i’ve told you that maybe switching this class would help.”
it’s true, a few weeks prior satoru told you to switch his class for afternoon sessions. the problem was that he wouldn’t be your instructor.
“true. maybe it would help, but i really enjoy your teaching.”
bold.
he laughed and straightened up, “that’s cute and all, but maybe worrying about yourself wouldn’t be so bad.”
what felt like minutes of bickering, your other classmates started to pop in.
his entire attitude changed; that wide smile of his filled the entire studio with laughter.
somewhere between the lines, satoru kept looking at you. maybe to see if you had laughed too.
“good morning, i’m sure everyone is ready for warm-ups?”
he walks over to his machine again and starts explaining his setup, “alright, make sure to loosen it up. last class was advanced, so i apologize.”
your hands reach over to the springs at the foot of the machine, slightly tugging at the tightest coil, you pop it out.
“hey, why don’t you use the medium?”
you look up and see satoru looking at you, pointing at the medium-thick coil.
“me? are you sure?”
“of course, you’ve really grown. i’m sure you can do it with that endurance of yours.”
before you could pop in the spring, he reaches over and takes it upon himself to switch it for you.
“stay after, yeah?”
the blush on your cheeks grew even brighter; you could feel it in the tips of your ears. after finishing up, he straightens up and continues class.
“alright, three sets on the side. we’ll continue with a new stretch today.”
the normal warm-up was casual, like always, but the actual stretches had you warm in every joint. his new addition consisted of one leg on the carriage while the other held on for dear life on the leg stand.
“hold the pose! just a few more seconds!”
your back was aching for release, every vein in your body was pumping from how still you were trying to balance.
“stretch the carriage! come on.. try a side split.”
as you move your leg, making the carriage open and the spring stretch, you see satoru. he was walking by every machine and correcting people’s posture. and by the time he reached yours, he gripped your hip and made you slightly bend your knees.
“a little more, you can do it.”
a soft whine slipped, your legs were slightly shaking from surprise. his hand was huge and his fingers were digging into you; somehow it made you dizzy instead of helping.
satoru’s eyes looked up at you, they look down at your lips before slowly letting go to walk off.
“slowly come up.. hold your position.”
your legs continued to shake and satoru made you all repeat it before changing the target.
laying back down, the straps wrap around your wrists. the coming down was obvious, all of your classmates were almost at their limits.
“nobody’s sleeping, right? we need our usual sets!”
satoru walked toward another classmate who was slowing down, he helped them up to switch positions at their accommodation.
by the time class ended, satoru was all smiles, as if we has proud how wasted everyone was.
“good job everyone! see you all next session.”
the small chatter from everyone slowly diminished; a few women stayed behind to earn a compliment. but he noticed that you were still waiting for him, and so, he excused himself.
you were sitting on the carriage, sipping on water and trying not to fall asleep.
“you did good, with the medium spring.”
your eyes shot open to look up at him, “i did?”
“that’s intermediate for you. have you been taking classes without me knowing?”
his musk filled your nose and caught you a bit off guard, you were about to answer until he cut you off.
“actually, don’t answer that. i’ll probably feel a little bummed out.”
“bummed out? you mean jealous?”
he hummed, “something like that.”
the studio was empty now, other than you both. warm lights shone on you and made the awkward silence somewhat tolerable.
“i know i asked you to stay. but i just wanted to talk, and maybe i can offer something.”
that caught your interest.
“oh… talk about what?”
“this class, you’re obviously achieving results much faster than everyone else. maybe you could move up.”
you laughed, “move up? i’ll be missing so much.”
“not really… if you do move up, i could offer training.”
“you do personal training?”
“well, i am an instructor. i’m sure i can personally train.”
your eyes slightly cinched at confusion, “so you don’t train.”
“i did, once a blue moon. but i think your progress could exceed if you moved up.”
silence. the blush from his praise made you warm up. the workout already had you completely bloodshot, your heart was accelerating even while sitting down because of him. it had been so long since these type of words were being uttered in your presence.
“yeah… okay.”
“i’ll work it out for you. this new class has two options.”
satoru began to walk towards the door, “follow me. my office is down the hall.”
as soon as you walked in the hallway, other people noticed satoru. they waved and greeted him, but thanks to his height, you were easily brushed off.
“the schedules for intermediate are hard-copy. it’ll be easy to pick out.”
his office door clicked as it opened and closed behind you, allowing you both some privacy. his room was modernly furnished. shelves that reached the ceiling and a large desk made of dark oak. they shimmered at every angle.
“sit. i’ll print ‘em out.”
you nod and sit down while his back faces you. god, every muscle jolted with every move he made. your teeth were nibbling on your bottom lip, it was taking everything in you to look away and have some decency.
“here.”
his body turns to face you as the papers slide on the desk.
“this one is three times a week, later time, just with another instructor.”
“okay… what about the other one?”
“two times a week, same time, and it’s with me.”
satoru stayed silent so he could see your thought process before stepping in to add, “our sessions could be between those two days.”
“are you sure this is fine?”
he smiled and nodded, “it’s just one day.”
you left with a hint of embarrassment and a little post-it with satoru’s number between your fingers. and it wouldn’t take a while before he started messaging you.
intermediate sessions were on monday and wednesday, his catch up session was on tuesday after his other classes were over.
just the thought of it made your stomach flutter.
good afternoon, are we still up for tomorrow?
i can make it, i wanna get the most out of your class.
you’re still in my class, haha.
alright, i’ll see you then.
your usual clothes were slightly altered. leggings were switched for shorts, and that ponytail you always combed was now a braid. it’s hard not to mention how you began getting ready much earlier than usual to slap on some makeup. it was six o’clock, no way you’d be seen unkempt so late in the day.
satoru was perched on the reception desk when you arrived, he was idly scrolling on his phone as he waited for you.
“you’re here, great.”
“sorry, am i late?”
“for the first time, yeah. it’s nice seeing a change.”
you laughed at his joke, “it’s traffic hour. not my fault.”
he walked into his studio room and spread open his arms to emphasize the void of the room.
“pick any, try a new one.”
“does it matter which one?”
“of course not, but we are the only one’s here.”
satoru watched as you walked around and chose a reformer that was on the opposite side of your usual machine.
“this one is fine.”
“sure, how about we start on warm-ups now?”
knee bends, hip adjusts, and over-the-head stretches.
satoru watched you, his new assigned machine was beside yours to mimic what he wanted you to work on.
“alright, maybe i should start with our new warm-ups for tomorrow. let’s do medium spring like last time.”
he stepped on his machine and started positioning himself in a single-leg stretch. one foot was on the foot stand while the other was on the floor, letting him stabilize.
“we go all the way down to feel no tension after. you can start slow.”
your leg stretched as your hands stayed on the foot bar.
“nice, wanna try on top?”
satoru’s velvety tone made you blush, his innuendo made you listen with no fight. you quickly climbed on top of the foot stand to try the actual split. the carriage opened with every inch, he was right beside you on your left side, holding out a hand in case you needed stabilization.
“look at you, this is easy, huh?”
“n– no.. easier.. said than done.”
“you’re doing good–”
as you reached down for his hand, he stopped what he was going to say. instantly, you look down and see him looking at your hand.
“you’re married? wow, congrats.”
“oh, yeah. ten years.”
“so, no congrats?”
awkwardly, you laugh and watch how he looks up at you with a soft smirk.
“sure, i guess. he’s just never around.”
“oh, sorry. didn’t mean to pry. the kids probably understand, right?”
you mumble, “don’t have any.”
silence.
“sorry, i’m prying again.”
“it’s fine. most people have kids at this stage, right?”
“depends if you even want any.”
silence again.
“i’m sorry for assuming.”
all you could do was laugh to break the tension.
“you’re funny.”
satoru looked away to let you focus on the stretch, but for a split second, you could see a hint of pink blossom on his cheeks.
the entire session was guided with his gentle hands, the confidence he had was shot down and you could feel it with every word he used. honorifics were added onto every phrase, his eyes never lingered hard enough for you anymore.
by the time you left to your car, satoru walked you out. always two steps behind. it drove you a tad bit insane. was the wedding ring really that big of a deal? this entire scheme was to make you forget about your husband, just for a bit. and here he was ruining it without even being present.
your body moved without any thought, you were facing him as the dark sky was beginning to let the stars twinkle.
“is it different now?”
“what is?”
“our sessions. because i’m married.”
“of course not, i should have noticed since the beginning. it’s my fault.”
“this isn’t about him, you know.”
he stood silent, somehow behind those white lashes of his, you could see the slight disappointment behind them.
“i’m doing all of this for me. it isn’t about him. if… if this is too much, we don’t have to.”
satoru smiles and shakes his head, “i’ll see you tomorrow. sleep well.”
you continue looking up at him before looking away to ponder. the impulsion lingered, and without a second to spare, you cut the distance and kiss him.
adrenaline overtook you, him as well.
satoru’s hands land on both sides of your face. his palms guide and redirect how your kiss was moving.
he tasted so sweet. spearmint from a gum he had been chewing and somehow you could distinguish a hint of herbal. probably from some tea. his musk was even more potent up close.
you pull back, eyes blown wide and hair slightly wild, satoru was about to say something before you ran into your car.
“–i’ll see you tomorrow!”
you couldn’t think straight on the ride back. this wasn’t supposed to happen. or maybe it should have happened much sooner.
swirls of everything that had happened filled your every thought.
satoru.
standing over six feet tall and carved by the heavens had kissed you back under the starlit sky.
you told him you were married right?
was this all a dream?
at the foot of your bed, your fingers kept touching your lips to somehow feel the ghost of his lips that lingered on them.
by the time sleep had taken over, it was far too late. you woke up much later than usual for your first intermediate session.
quickly, you dressed and left with not much time left.
but before you could step out of your car and into the studio, your phone began to ring.
ring. ring. ring.
his contact name glowed with no shame. when was the last time he called? weeks maybe.
“...hello?”
“honey, how’s it going?”
“i’m fine… you haven’t called.”
you could hear the sigh through the phone, “i know. i’m sorry. i didn’t think this trip would be so long.”
“it’s over, right?”
“in a bit. did you like them?”
a second of silence passed, “oh, the lilies.”
“yes. freshly delivered.”
“they’re beautiful.”
“how about you send me a photo?”
“oh… i’m not home.”
“really? where are you so early in the day if not home?”
“i… came for a walk.”
“alright. take care then.”
“when will you come back?”
your husband hummed and began to look through papers before giving up and yelling out to someone, “tana! when’s the next flight back!?”
the murmuring continued before he sighed, “listen, i’m not sure. but i’ll call. i love you.”
“okay… i– i love you too.”
your phone turned off as he hung up. the silence after your simple lie was haunting. you slipped off your wedding band and stuffed it in the middle compartment.
the early day was cloudy, slightly foggy.
the second you stepped into the studio, satoru was talking to another group of classmates. you looked around and found the only empty machine that was left. it stood somewhat in the middle.
satoru noticed you and cleared his throat, “alright. everyone’s here. let’s start with warm-ups everyone. ten minutes.”
you set your items down beside your machine and before beginning your warm-ups from yesterday’s session, satoru’s undeniable warmth was beside you.
“good morning… you’re late.”
“i apologize.”
he hummed and eyed your emotion, “something wrong?”
“not at all.”
“okay. i… wanna talk.”
you nod and he walks away to continue class.
your first session as an intermediate was fast. of course the workouts were harder, but they were much shorter with real impact.
the classroom soon fell silent after everyone left and you could feel how far away satoru stood. he was walking around the machines, fixing them and putting them all in position.
“satoru. if this is about yesterday–”
his body straightened up, he wasn’t facing you but you could tell he wasn’t happy.
“it is about yesterday.”
“i’m sorry. i’ll keep saying sorry for being so thoughtless.”
satoru turned around and walked over to you, his hands grasped yours and slightly tugged you closer.
“w– wait.. your other class–”
in an instant, his lips were on yours. teeth slightly clashing, his tongue was slipping in as your hands remained under fingerlock.
this kiss felt even more desperate than from last night. this was in broad daylight and so lustful, your knees almost gave out from his misery.
he was moaning at the contact.
every passing of saliva made you lose the little sanity you had left. and as you pulled back to breath in some air, he was looking down at you with half-lidded eyes. the blush on his face mirrored yours.
“i’m not mad, i’m happy. see you next week?”
you nod while looking away. it was all too much. his gaze was digging holes into you and the fact you were covered in sweat made you want to cry from embarrassment.
his hands let go of yours, “i’ll message you.”
there was a slight skip in your step. right foot, left foot, you fix your hair and slide into the driver’s seat. every breath you took was making your insides burn.
your hands were gripping your hair, tugging in an attempt to bring you back to earth.
“holy shit… what the hell.”
every passing car on the street made you heave. all possible emotions overtook your body.
was this really okay?
you weren’t mentally there on the drive back home. it was forgotten, much less the warm bath that was prepared for you. you were head over heels. the man you had been eyeing for weeks was finally giving you his time, even in the most inconvenient times.
hello, just wanted to say good night.
hi satoru, good night.
you looked very beautiful today. is that okay to say?
of course. that’s fine. thank you for today.
good night, beautiful. let me know if you’re free this weekend.
i am free. are you asking for something?
maybe. all we’ve done is talk in the studio.
friday after 7?
sounds great. is this casual?
everything but that. i’ll see you.
a squeal echoed in your room, even at thirty, this man had a skill into making you act like a lovesick teen.
your wedding band was somewhere in your car and there was no way you’d go back when satoru was right in front of you. he was giving you everything.
that thursday became even more torturous. friday sounded like a breath of air in the grand midst of things.
you and satoru had been messaging throughout the entire friday, and he accidentally slipped the detail that he was taking you to a nice restaurant. despite the fact he told you not to worry about presentation, you knew otherwise. this was your first (secret) date in over ten years. plus, it’s not like he’s seen you in anything other than workout clothes.
a high up hair do and maybe a sun dress would fit the occasion. every dress in your closet flashed before your eyes. and after much debate, you decided on a long framed dress that would fit.
all of your maids were dismissed early that day to save yourself the awkward looks. they didn’t have to see you get dressed.
his car arrived very early and stood outside the penthouse’s gates, idly roaring to pass the time.
when you stepped out in the dress you had on, it twinkled with every step you took and made his jaw slightly widen.
satoru’s date went as planned, overpriced desserts sealed the deal under a candlelit dinner. he was driving you back home as the subject of pilates started, “you know, i ordered some machinery a while back.”
his eyebrows slightly rose, “oh? you did?”
“yep. that was my reasoning.”
“i’m extremely confused.”
you laugh, “remember when you asked how i was getting better so quickly?”
“seriously? you were training at home? i thought you were cheating on me or something.”
“wanna come look at them?”
satoru smirked and looked back at the road, “sure. it wouldn’t hurt.”
his hand slipped down and blindly looked for yours, letting them intertwine throughout the entire ride. he was a gentleman, of course. he walked you to your door and stood there.
“are you seriously waiting for an invite?”
“sorta, kinda.”
“satoru, don’t be silly. i already invited you in the car.”
“well, maybe you changed your mind.”
you smiled and tugged his hand, “not really.”
his footsteps echoed in the lobby, the elevator dinged every time you left a floor.
“he’s not home… is he?”
your smile dropped at the question. satoru’s face tightened in fear.
“obviously not… i wouldn’t be here if he was.”
satoru cleared his throat and fixed the collar of his shirt, “yeah, right. first time.”
you looked back at him with a confused expression.
“first time, what?”
“you know… doing this.”
“oh. right. homewrecking?”
he awkwardly laughs and looks up at the mini screen that reflects the floor you both are currently passing, “you’re on the thirteenth floor?”
“yeah, just a bit.”
“how’d you even bring all of it up?”
“delivery service.”
the elevator dings as the doors open to showcase the entrance of your penthouse. bright walls were illuminated by the warm light. shrubbery on every table, the custom furniture that you ordered on a whim filled the entire living room.
“want something to drink?”
“it’s fine, it’s late.”
“alright,” you responded as you pointed at a nearby door, “the machine is that way.”
satoru followed you, two steps behind and eyeing the flow of your dress.
a whistle slipped from his lips as soon as the door opened, “newest model, i see. you’re good at shopping.”
“you think so?”
“mhm,” his hands reached for yours, “you did good.”
the machine was fine, more than fine for the type of workouts he would be teaching you.
satoru leans down and kisses you again, this time he let you guide him.
he was letting you teach him.
at this realization, your hands slipped free from his grasps and landed on his shoulders. every touch you gave him had satoru moaning.
his feet stepped backwards through the room and into your bedroom across the penthouse. the grey suit jacket he had on was taken off, the white shirt that he was wearing became lost when he eagerly took it off himself.
every muscle you had looked at from under his studio lights was right here in front of you in all its glory.
“how do you take this off…?”
“my dress? on the side.”
“oh… sorry.”
satoru searched for the zipper on the side of your torso and slowly slipped your dress off of you. his lips reached down to kiss your neck, then the valley of your breasts as the surface became free from the fabric. your matching set was not worn in vain, he landed on his knees to reach your stomach.
the heels on your feet made you stand awkwardly; his hair was the only means to have some stability in the middle of your room.
“hey, sit down. i’ll get these for you.”
as soon as you sat down, his nimble fingers reached for the back of your heels to slip them off.
red lines traced your foot from how long you had been wearing them.
satoru’s lips landed on the lines; your ankle wasn’t far behind. he stood up to cage you in, kissing you again and slipping between your legs.
“this is okay, right?”
you nod, you couldn’t see anything in this dark room. all your answers were desperate whines.
“tell me if you don’t like it.”
your arms wrap around his neck before replying, “...okay.”
his hands reach behind to undo the clasp, the tension is immediately removed. all the harsh wire that was digging into you was gone.
the pesky panty you had on was effortlessly removed and stuffed into the pocket of his grey slacks.
you were pliable. soft and vulnerable under the darkness as satoru’s hands reached down to unbuckle himself, letting his straining cock free.
“i wanna make you feel good, hold on…”
the man’s warmth slightly backs up, you look up and see him removing his dress shoes and whatever else he had on. satoru’s weight made the bed dip soon after. your body was gently flipped to land on your stomach, “i wanna taste you, like this. that’s fine?”
it could very well be your last wish to be eaten like this, the pillow under your head was cold, but did very little to calm the heat.
“y– yeah.. please.”
his warm fingers grip your hips, guiding them to lift up into the air. it was instinctive to be this vulnerable after so long. satoru understood you even with the little words that were shared.
your back arched quickly after every hair on your body was raised the second his breath reached your core.
a kiss landed on your entry, earning him a soft moan.
“you’re wet… feel that?”
you moan again, satoru was teasing you without even noticing it.
his lips kissed you again, before pulling away, his tongue slipped out to taste the leaking juices.
“augh… fuck.”
with each lick, your moans were muffled into the cotton of your pillow.
your legs start to shake at the new feeling, satoru’s middle finger slowly starts to slide between his mouth’s licking and your entrance. every spasm your hole did, it released even more slick. he noticed it and began to gather it. surely his finger will slip in easily.
knuckle deep now, satoru was exploring your gummy walls.
your moans grew in pitch, “m– mmh!”
“right here?”
just as you were about to answer, more of your juices spilled out around his middle finger. he pulled back and gathered what was ushered out. after coating both his middle and ring finger with your own creation, satoru slipped them back in.
your body coiled up and moved forward, pushing yourself into the pillow. your knees almost gave out from how far his fingers reached.
sure they were large, but after so long, he was making you so wet from just a few touches.
the moans easily slipped from your lips. thank goodness you dismissed the maids beforehand.
sloppy noises filled the room. he wasn’t even using his mouth anymore.
“it’s good?”
“y– yeah.. mmh.. gonna come.”
satoru moves on the bed, his face was now beside yours as you continued arching your back. the pace was nowhere near slowing down.
“already? do you want it like this?”
“no.. nooo..”
“okay, princess. hold on for a sec.”
he kisses your jaw as your wetness was drowning him by the second. every time he pushed back in, your walls clenched. desperate to keep him in.
a moan slipped from his lips.
satoru pulls his hand away and kisses your jaw again, “how do you want it?”
it took you a second to slow your heart down and respond to his question. you wanted to intake this entire thing in before making a decision.
“i just wanna look at you.”
his soft hair rubs against your temple before nodding, “alright. turn around.”
you give out your knees to land on your tummy, the burning began as you lay like a board. he laughs and flips you back around.
he looked so sexy, like a wet dream come true.
your legs wrapped around him so innocently, satoru couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you. the entire night bled into morning, his hand’s movements ultimately left you exhausted.
sunlight became his alarm from how bright it shone through your curtains. he started to move, “good morning. you slept well?”
“yeah. it’s been a long time since that’s happened.”
“i can tell. thank goodness it’s saturday.”
satoru stands up and begins to look around the room for his lost clothing items, “need anything?”
“you’re leaving?”
“just gathering my things, i’m not that much of an animal.”
in a few seconds, he was back in bed with you. wrapped in his unforgettable scent, the tears shamefully began to fall.
satoru noticed, but didn’t ask.
he left before your maids could even begin their work.
and that was that. you figured he’d get his fill from breaking you.
but oh how wrong you were.
monday’s session was just a tad bit insane.
his usual eye wandering was even more intense. every movement you made, he was making sure to analyze.
“new stretches today! i hope everyone had a fun weekend, but we’re back in business.”
satoru had you all down on your back, shoulder rests on both sides of your face.
“your wrist straps have a longer option, we can expose ourselves to resistance on your strongest limbs. let me know if you need accommodation.”
as you look up from your position, you reach for the straps and place them on your feet. the tension instantly pulls your legs up. flailing and high in the air, satoru continued.
“try pulling down. slowly! we’re not in a race.”
with the little confidence you have at such an early time in the day, the weight of your legs pull down. the carriage rolls up. just as you were pulling up to restart, satoru walks up to your machine.
“nicely done. here..”
his strong hand grips one of your thighs, making your legs go limb and flail in the air again.
“not so fast… you’re gonna hurt yourself.”
“yeah.. sorry, the stra–”
“you can do it, maybe with a little encouragement?”
satoru’s hand reaches down and pushes down on your thigh, letting his thumb reach your core. he could feel the warmth you were emitting and your body instantly jumped from how easily his thumb found that little bundle of nerves.
“i studied, didn’t i?”
you nod and bit your bottom lip as his finger pushed through your leggings again, “pull down now.”
the strap around your ankles made your legs feel like noodles, all of your classmates were continuing there work out and somehow satoru was rubbing you off. no shame.
“s– satoru…”
a laugh finally came out of his lips, he left you to continue the stretch. the soft background music sounded even louder now.
“alright, it’s come down now. mid back to minimize.”
your breathing was loud, sweat rolled down from your temple to your neck. out of all places, he chose the most inappropriate place.
“foot work! don’t forget about ‘em.”
reformers whir at every step and turn for what felt like hours, “let’s take a break everyone. ten minutes.”
sighs filled the room, it felt ten degrees higher at just the memory of how satoru was touching you in the midst of class.
his eyes chase yours as soon as you sit up, “make it fifteen.”
your eyebrows cinch in confusion, the sweat on the back of your neck continued its descent down onto your back. he was signaling you to step out with those blue eyes of his.
not a second to waste, after he leaves the room, you follow after.
the carpet in the halls made it easy for you both to enter his office without much noise.
click.
his hands immediately land on your hips, taking your breath away with the weight of his kiss. dripping sweat between you both, he made you forget about it all.
it wasn’t supposed to happen here.
your first time with satoru was meant to be meticulously planned, maybe in some high-end hotel. but he was not going to waste time anymore, he settles you on top of his desk, desperate fingers pulled down your sticky leggings. the wetness between your legs was obvious; you reacted to the teasing in class. the grey sweats he had on were pulled down even faster, that undeniably long shaft was pulsing again. he didn’t even put it in you last time he was on your bed, only his fingers. but now it felt right after a good stretch.
you couldn’t leave him like this after how bold he’s gotten when he started rubbing you in front of everyone. your view was stuck on how he guided himself into you, the small window between you both was warm.
he bucked his hips at your sudden tightness, making the desk slightly move and moan.
“satoru.. don’t be too loud.”
“gimme a second…”
not even a second later, his hips started a pace. you were wrapped around his neck to stifle the humiliating moans that didn’t stop slipping out of you.
the slap of his thighs smacking the desk was even louder.
thunk, thunk, thunk.
darkness was all you saw from how hard you pinched your eyes closed. you didn’t even notice the change of speed until that blossoming pleasure took shape.
you were close.
satoru had not anticipated this.
but break time was almost over.
his hands guided you to lay down completely on the dark oak. your legs were pushed backwards, enabling satoru to reach in deeper.
your puffy lips looked even softer from the new angle. he pressed your legs further back, hips pistoning in with no remorse. he knew you were cumming.
one of your hands lands on your lips to attempt to minimize the noise. the clenching around his cock had an amusing rhythm. he pulls back when you finish and pumps a few strokes with his hand; the warm ropes land in his own palm.
deep breaths were shared, a bright blue tissue box stood balanced on the corner of his desk. satoru snorts and reaches over for it, “a miracle.”
you both abandon the office; it had been seventeen minutes since you both left. but who was counting? the way you pinched your thighs together with every step was not on purpose.
satoru let you leave early.
it was all his fault.
that same day, what should have been your embarkation in the afterglow, was ruined the moment you stepped into your home.
the halls weren’t their usual empty, his footsteps echoed and made it obvious. you weren’t allowed to run away from this life, even if you had put that ring away.
“you’re back? i was looking for you.”
a sting filled the back of your nose, that cologne he wore made you face away from him. his embrace didn’t feel the same.
everything had changed in an instant for the first time in forever.
after ten years of being a dutiful dove that knew where home was, this wasn’t what you wanted anymore.
“i was out.”
“the maids didn’t even know where you had run off to. is that all you have to say?”
“of course not. i missed you.”
your husband’s lips landed on the corner of yours, somewhat torturing you with the reminder of what you had done just a few moments ago with satoru.
it shouldn’t have happened, you thought to yourself.
this is where you should have stayed since the beginning.
“i’m visiting today, but i’ll be officially home by the end of the season.”
his words made you stiffen, the only response that you could provide was a wrinkled smile.
self indulgence was a sin, you knew that very will.
the second your husband turns to view what had changed in the span of his absence, you pick out your phone and message satoru.
about today, it shouldn’t have happened.
hey, what’s wrong?
did i hurt you?
he’s here now. and he’s all i’ve needed.
i’m sorry.
his no response made the tears build up. this is how it was going to end.
let me call you. please.
not today. maybe tomorrow.
you’re still coming for our session? we can talk.
it’s done, satoru. i don’t think we should.
i’ll call you then.
restlessness was holding on, your husband lays right beside you on the large bed. could he tell that someone else other than him laid in his spot?
the thought bit at your consciousness the entire night. your thin night gown did nothing to settle down the shame.
you stayed up for what felt like hours before you succumbed to your heavy eyelids. but the buzz under your pillow quickly woke you up.
it was satoru.
every step on the cold floor brought you to the lonely balcony across the entire penthouse. it looks over the city as the sun weakly began to shine through.
“hello?”
“hey, did i wake you?”
“maybe. i wasn’t that asleep.”
his sigh filled your ear, goosebumps rose on your skin from the bitter breeze.
“i’ll only ask you this once because i don’t have the right to judge you.”
a span of silence took over; it was silent on his end. but your background was echoing the ruckus of traffic.
“is this really what you want? i thought we were going steady.”
“satoru, he said he’s going to be back by the end of this spring.”
“so this is it?”
“it’s final. i shouldn’t have stepped over and messed with you.”
“but i love you.”
“don’t say that,” you replied as the tears that you had been holding in burst like an overflowing dam.
“you don’t deserve someone like me.”
“someone like you shouldn’t be living on eggshells all the time. let me talk with you. please.”
“no! i think this is where we draw the line. you got what you wanted, right?”
satoru scoffed, “are you inferring i see you as some challenge?”
“maybe you do. i’m just a married woman who has nothing to show.”
“you’re much more than that. let me prove it to you.”
“this is over. you can’t justify this– i certainly can’t. i’ll live with this on my sleeves from now on.”
“hold on… wait–”
your phone shuts off before he finishes. the world straight away swallows you whole while everyone in tokyo begins their day.
the following week was silent, even more soundless than before.
what had been the usual routine for the past few months was now completely shut off.
you wouldn’t allow yourself in that studio ever again when you knew very well that satoru stood there.
the conclusion that it’ll be easy for him to move on from whatever you two had going on came as a cope. satoru was the talk of the town. his heart had no taint from heartbreak, he was still young enough to remain taintless for the foreseeable future.
your husband, the reason for your dilemma, was away again with the promise of coming back.
of course, you had ended up all alone again.
the reflection that stared back from your dresser’s mirror was disheveled. repeated attempts to save yourself were pointless.
“ma’am, someone is looking for you.”
you jumped and looked at the maid from your angle in the mirror, “i don’t have any visitors.”
“it was a mr. gojo, ma’am.”
the makeup brush in your hand drops, you could feel the emotions inside of you build up again.
“there is no time for someone like that.”
“ma’am, must i tell him to go? or that you are busy?”
“whichever makes him leave the quickest. please.”
“very well. i shall have breakf–”
clash, bang, drop.
“you can’t just enter like that, mr. gojo!”
“i’m not intruding. i know my way around.”
“the missus is in no hurry to speak with y–”
the chaos behind your door was obvious. satoru had come on his own willing.
your maid cleared her throat, “ma’am, i assume it’s very urgent. he’s pulling the butler like a ragdoll.”
you nod in embarrassment, “i’ll be out. please have the day off. everyone else as well.”
“you’re too kind. are you sure you will be alright?”
“he’s not that type of guy.”
she mimics closing a zipper on her lips and walks off.
your empty living room harbored satoru in all his frustration. it had barely been a week, and satoru looks even more disordered than you.
the weight you carried in the halls made satoru stand up from your couch.
his eyes literally softened to catch a glimpse of you. anything to know you were there.
he was wearing a wrinkled hoodie and dark undereyes, a sign he was up for who knows how long.
“you’re fine. thank goodness.”
“why are you here?”
“seriously?”
“i’m not sure what else to say, satoru.”
“you can start by explaining why your phone has been off for days.”
“i don’t think that should be any of your business. not anymore. it frankly never has been.”
“quit this weird facade. why are you doing this?”
you looked away from him when that obvious blush came through, he was moving closer without even noticing.
“you want me, right? i thought you were doing all of this for yourself, not him. you told me the night we kissed.”
“satoru…”
his warm hand cups your cheek, making you look back at him, “look at me. just tell me face-to-face.”
“tell you what? that what we had wasn’t real?”
“it was real. it felt real to me.”
“satoru, i’m married.”
“we both knew that, right? why does it matter now that i’m ready to risk it all?”
his words ring in your ear, the sparkle that had left your eyes a long time ago was now back to haunt him.
of course, he noticed the fact you slipped on that stupid wedding band again. but frankly, satoru was tired of waiting.
his lips take you without letting another word slip through yours. the awkward outfit he had chosen that morning was stripped off. he knew his way around; that much was apparent when your back reaches the bed again.
every cloth you had worn was thrown across the entire bedroom. kisses littered your neck as he whispered, “choose me again… just like before.”
white sheets slip loose when his hands turn you around onto a prone.
satoru’s lips roam across your back as they muttered all the right words, “i’ll give you what you want. it’s what you deserve.”
a moan slips from your lips, the delicate tip of satoru’s cock prods between your inner-thighs, “maybe it won’t be the like this… but i’ll make it right.”
he rubs a few times before slipping in. the moan you let go of hits satoru’s ear directly. he stays behind you and nuzzles into your neck for closure.
“y– you promise, satoru?”
“with every breath in me.”
“okay…”
the man’s pace quickened at your agreement and made the large bed thump against the wall.
“m– mh.. ‘toru.”
“yeah? talk to me.”
“i love you.”
“you better mean it.”
your lover’s hands reach over and slip off the gold ring on your hand that was digging into the covers.
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──⌖ COWBOY!NANAMI cannot get enough of the cute city girl!
tags: fluff, fluff and more fluff, nanami is so soft for reader, slight teasing, no beta its all about the yearning
౨ৎ a/n: was thinking of making this a series but idkkkkkk
COWBOY!NANAMI who is methodical, rational, and safe to say determined to keep the truth of what you really do to him as his little secret, the curt nods and gentle smiles you shot in his direction only met with the straightest face of a response partnered his unshakable composure.
It was your mission to get him to crack.
To him, falling in love was a multi-step process requiring the effort and attention he simply “didn’t have time for” whenever questioned by the women of the town, far too preoccupied with keeping the peace of the town to possibly settle down much less directing all his attention all on the cute bartender who “happened to catch his eye”.
But you watched for the small reactions, soft hands meeting his cold ones when passing another drink where you could catch the sides of his mouth twitching to let a smile creep to the surface, something he never allowed with a public image to maintain.
But for the soft touch of your fingers that linger for a little too long while handing him another bottle of whiskey, far before the first stage of his trials could even begin essentially wrecking his “tough guy” act before he got the chance to even put it into practice.
COWBOY!NANAMI that from the outside appeared to be uninterested whenever you would go on another one of your tangents but in all reality absorbed each and every word that fell so naturally from your lips like a decree followed almost religiously.
You had your doubts that he was even listening, all to be erased when a surprise bouquet of flowers landed on the doorstep of your home in the following days, the most gorgeous lilies that smelled even more heavenly when brought up to your nose to smell.
“The flowers I got this morning were from you, weren’t they?” you innocently ask, fingers dancing around the rim of the cup you were washing for the millionth time, chest tightening in excitement as you waited to hear the response you already knew the answer to, wanting to hear it specifically from him.
“Couldn’t possibly be me unfortunately.” he straightened up his back, fixing his tie in the way that made you instantly fold.
“Had a few rodeos to run this morning.” he stated while smoothing a hand over his hair, all the actions not about perfecting his appearance but rather unconsciously made when he was secretly nervous.
But if your heart wasn’t already warm with his attention to detail, it now was in flames with single thought of how he had dropped by in the morning during a rodeo to deliver the flowers to your doorstep all because your little comments of often picking up some when back at the city because they smelt the best and they had to be your “absolute favourite of all flowers”
You knew this best being one of the only people who happened to catch his small habits of fidgeting when put on the spot. You also knew he was behind it all, delivering those flowers personally but way too shy to come clean and confess since it meant admitting that he was utterly obsessed with you.
COWBOY!NANAMI who was not only a sight for sore eyes but a piece of gold in a room of common rock, with that in mind it was no surprise that many other women in the bar would also have their eyes set on him.
“New cologne is it..? Who is this new man and what have they done to Nanami?” you giggle while reeling him in closer by the cheetah print tie you just loved, another unique feature that placed him apart from the rest - he was no usual cowboy.
“Cowboys” were usually loud and rowdy like the ones who barged in the tavern after midnight after a long day, pouring one drink after another whilst celebrating their wins not without pestering the women of the bar with their unwanted touches and insensitive comments.
Nanami wasn’t one of those “cowboys”, a quiet assurance surrounded him that not to be mistaken for insecurity where word of him could be heard through hushed whispers, a circle of fear attached to him that only dragged you in more like a moth to flame, desperate to find out more.
“I was thinking it smelt far too strong.” he muttered under his breath when reeled in, both of you face to face before you slowly loosened your hold on him, leaving him to lean back into his seat.
“I like it, it suits you pretty well.” you answer clearly, giving him a sly smile before getting back to making more drinks.
You weren’t supposed to leave him smiling like a dork.
But of course Nanami wore that scent more frequently, eventually growing on him so much and soon enough becoming his signature scent.
COWBOY!NANAMI that randomly reveals when bringing over his usual whisky on the rocks that his favourite drink is actually a banana daiquiri, only having stopped ordered them in attempts to “impress you”.
“Are you serious!? I thought you liked whiskeys?”
“Of course I like whiskey but I do love myself a banana daiquiri at times.” he answered calmly, urging the bottle back into your hands to request a drink you barely made especially for the man you thought would never take a liking to more “fun” drinks.
You had thought it was cute at first but now whenever he comes around you make him a banana daiquiri instead of whisky, a habit picked up so naturally that you became more accustomed to making him a little special drink each time.
COWBOY!NANAMI who calls you all sorts of sweet names as if it’s just nothing, finding satisfaction in catching you off guard especially in settings where you must keep composure and hide to everyone how much his words impacted you.
“ Another would be nice, darlin’.” he replied halfheartedly to your generous ask if he would like another drink, faint traces of a smile across his face seeing you scramble to get yourself together and avoid getting frustrated.
He was yet again talking up another bartender, giving her advice on what she should do about her property that was recently “raided by a bunch of dimwits” while you stood there watching him ignore all her advances and poor attempts of flirting while keeping a stern eye on you in a process of testing the boundaries with you, seeing how you would react in the face of his split attention veiled behind his claim of “keeping the town running”.
Not that you ever doubted him.
“Ah.. seems that I can’t serve any more drinks for tonight, sorry bout that.” you quietly scoff, awkwardly taking away their drinks in hopes of cutting their conversation a little short.
“A few more won’t hurt.” he would counter, bringing back the drinks to sit in front of them before ending the conversation on his own terms before circling around to whisper in your ear “Nice try sugar, I know you better than that.”
He knew what those names did to you, leaving you to secretly melt at his words whilst fully aware that he’s got you right where he needs hook, line and centre.
COWBOY!NANAMI who finally gathers enough courage to formally ask you out after multiple failed attempts where he feared asking you out on a simple date despite being a man who directs shootouts.
He was accustomed to fearing the worst, always preparing for the “just in case” but with love there was no preparation involved, leaving him feeling like he would never be ready to make another step.
It just all came out.
“How would you like to watch the sunset sometime? You can even learn to ride the horse that you were excited to if you want.”
“Are you asking me out?” you chuckle to yourself before watching him closely and realising his hesitance.
“I would love to.” you continue, following his rising eyes that locked on yours as if already promising to make it worth your time as if he didn’t already mean everything to you.
He was no longer silently cursing himself for letting it slip but thankful that he finally managed to ask you out on a proper date.
It being the best “mistake” he could have possibly made, just the two of you sitting beside each other, hands tangled as if the tighter you held on the longer it would last, watching sunrise break through the horizon together as it began to cast its morning glow.
a/n: a mootie said i should do geto here’s geto :3
Dadsugu who treats your daughter’s first solid food like a small exercise in patience. Mashed sweet potatoes in a small bowl, still a little too thick. He studies the texture before touching the spoon.
“Too thick and she won’t like it.”
You watch him. “She’s six months, Sugu.”
“Precisely.”
He adjusts it, adds a little milk, then smooths it carefully. You try first. She turns her head. Clamps her mouth shut. Spits a little out.
You sigh. “She’s not ready.”
He takes the spoon and straightens slightly. “Look at me.”
She does. Opens her mouth. Swallows. You watch the interaction. He wipes the corner of her mouth with his thumb.
“Authority tone,” he says calmly. “It’s about presence.”
You roll your eyes.
Then she freezes, scrunching her face.
You tense. “She hates it—”
“She’s processing.”
He waits, not rushing her. She tugs on his sleeve, staring at the spoon with the mashed potatoes. She smacks her lips once, then reaches for it.
“She trusts the source,” he says quietly.
Dadsugu who refuses to baby-talk. “Use your words,” he tells a five-year-old. She crosses her arms. Shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Glares at you.
You glance at him. “See? That’s your influence.”
“That boy took my shovel,” she finally says.
He studies her for a moment. Then asks calmly, “And what did you say to him?”
She hesitates. “…nothing.”
He nods slightly. “That explains the problem.”
He gestures toward the playground. “Use your words.”
She trudges back. You watch her tap the boy on the shoulder, say something quietly. A moment later he hands the shovel back. She returns, arms uncrossed.
He hums softly. “Effective.”
Dadsugu who never stopped telling her to use her words—even now that she’s a preteen. She’s standing across the table. Arms crossed.
“That’s not fair.”
He tilts his head slightly. “Convince me.”
She opens her mouth. Stops. Then tries again.
“You said we could go.”
“That’s incomplete.” He gestures lightly. “Be precise.”
She frowns. Thinking harder now. “You said we could go if I finished my homework.”
“And did you?”
“…almost.”
He waits. She sighs. Then corrects herself.
“No.” Then she tries again. “If the rule was finishing my homework first, then the rule still applies.”
He leans back slightly. “Better.”
She huffs and walks out of the room. You watch the doorway. Then glance at him.