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toji couldn’t pay for his haircut, so he found a better alternative...dick! mdni
the saturday evening’s sun was just beginning to make its descent, peeking its warm rays through the window’s blinds as you finished with the final touches. soft snips from sheers and scent of hair gel filled the living room, adding a perfect backdrop to the blaring sports commentator on the tv that he’d insisted on watching while you worked.
stepping back, you pulled off the black cape with a definitive whoosh.’ the final product was exactly what he’d asked for–tousled, wet-looking, and effortlessly messy.
“and we're done; i'll hand you the mirror in a sec.” you hummed, beginning to brush off any stray hairs that still lingered.
fingers sweeping over his broad shoulders, and maybe allowing your hand to slip lower, just to feel the flexed, hardened muscles that lay underneath. toji didn’t seem to notice your obvious attempts, or at least he didn’t care enough to comment, letting you feel him up like it was normal and managed a small grunt in response. he rolled his shoulders, shifting in the chair; the movement only made the compression shirt tighten, like a second skin, catching a whiff of his cologne, something masculine and dark, mixed with the two-in-one body wash he used.
"how much?"
the deep monotone voice pulled you out of the trance, not realizing how you’d practically been drooling over his abs.
“uh, thirty dollars.”
toji didn’t say anything, just fished around his sweatpants pockets, only to come out holding a piece of lint and a crumbled gum wrapper like a taunting peace offering.
he sucked his teeth, gaze slowly lifting to you. “aw shitt…i forgot my wallet back home, doll.”
it was a blatant lie, full of shit. he didn’t even bother to hide the amusement in his tone. but you weren’t having any of it.
“well, if you can’t pay, you’re going to do something,” you huffed softly, mind going to chores around your house, mowing the lawn, taking out the trash, something to make up for your services. though the moment you crossed your arms, pushing up those tits, toji had another idea in mind. and it wasn’t playing house husband.
“i got somethin’ in mind.”
you didn’t expect this to be what he was referring to: sweat-sheened limbs tangled, clothes optional, and hand cupped over your sapping maw to muffle those desperate moans.
“fuck you’re wetter than i imagined.” his head dipped, teeth grazed your nape, and heavy thighs bracketed your hips from behind.
“you been wantin’ this, huh? this pussy hoping i couldn’t pay?”
the headboard had banged against the wall nonstop the past fifteen minutes, bed springs creaking under your combined weight, every wet slap of his balls against your puffy clit punctuated with his deep grunts.
you moaned against his palm, feeling your skin heat up, thankful he couldn’t see your face in this position. you did want this, too embarrassed to admit it, imagining his cock stretching you, how deep it’d hit, how his skin would feel against yours. body jolting forward with each punishing snap of his cock, sliding in and out your soaked pussy.
“toji–too…much!” you whined out, clawing at the sheets desperately, but he wasn’t letting you run from it. a sharp smack rippled your skin, stinging instantly. “fuck!”
“you can take it, you’re already takin’ it so good, sweetheart,” he purred, a strangled chuckle vibrating against your skin as you whimpered and squirmed beneath him, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place. “you said i had to pay, didn’t ya? and–” smack! “m’payin’ right now, baby. with this tight pussy.”
he was so deep, so big, so overwhelming, you could feel everything. every vein, the way thick length never stopped. you choked on your own spit, his palm covered in your saliva by now, eyes rolling and toes curling every time he found that spongy spot.
“fuck, grippin’ me so tight–hah–you like this shit don’t you?” he didn’t wait for a response, speeding up, his cock finally finding that sensitive spot, the one that made your back arch and grip threaten to circumcise his dick. “fuck, m’payin’ like this every time now, baby.”
the bed’s squeaking got more threatening, sure that it was close to snapping any second. it didn’t matter though, he was so gone he’d probably just keep fucking you anyway.
“you close?’ his lips found your ear, whispering almost softer.
“mhm–don’t stop!”
he groaned at the desperate muffled plea, fingers curling into your jaw, his hips now going faster, chasing your orgasm. “not leavin’ this pussy til it’s filled.” his hot breath ghosting your sensitive skin.
his free hand snaked around, finding your swollen, throbbing clit, the rough pad of his thumb rubbing tight circles. you choked on a muffled cry, your back bowing violently with shakes as your orgasm crashed. toji’s grip tightened on your waist, keeping you there.
“there it is…making such a mess on these pretty sheets, baby.” he didn’t stop, continuing to fuck you through it; even as he felt his orgasm on the verge of boiling over. he found every muffled sound you made incredibly hot, along with the sounds of his soaked length continuing to pound your oversensitive sobbing cunt deep. “such a fuckin’ squirter, your like a fire hydrant for me,” he teased, ignoring your embarrassed grumble.
a deep groan finally left his lips, burying his face in your back as he spilled thick hot ropes inside your welcoming walls. “fuckkk…”
after minutes of sticky chest heaving and heavy pants, he finally removed his hand, allowing you to breathe more clearly than you had the past thirty minutes. you rolled onto your back, and he mirrored the action, rolling onto his side to look at you. a mess, wrecked, and completely fucked by him.
“so, when we doin’ this again?” his rough hand surprisingly gentle, brushing back your hair.
“never. tell no one this happened, toji,” you muttered, lying through your teeth as you melted into his touch.
he smirked, pulled you closer, his large hand tucking you into his side as he continued stroking your back now, giving your ass a soft squeeze as his cum leaked.
“c’mon…don’t be like that, baby, you liked it.”
“mm.”
“can you at least fix my hair before i dip, or are we going another round first?”
you scoffed, but there was a trace of a smile on your lips. “you’re impossible.”
he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss there. “you like it. now answer the question before i decide.”
toji couldn’t pay for his haircut, so he found a better alternative...dick! mdni
the saturday evening’s sun was just beginning to make its descent, peeking its warm rays through the window’s blinds as you finished with the final touches. soft snips from sheers and scent of hair gel filled the living room, adding a perfect backdrop to the blaring sports commentator on the tv that he’d insisted on watching while you worked.
stepping back, you pulled off the black cape with a definitive whoosh.’ the final product was exactly what he’d asked for–tousled, wet-looking, and effortlessly messy.
“and we're done; i'll hand you the mirror in a sec.” you hummed, beginning to brush off any stray hairs that still lingered.
fingers sweeping over his broad shoulders, and maybe allowing your hand to slip lower, just to feel the flexed, hardened muscles that lay underneath. toji didn’t seem to notice your obvious attempts, or at least he didn’t care enough to comment, letting you feel him up like it was normal and managed a small grunt in response. he rolled his shoulders, shifting in the chair; the movement only made the compression shirt tighten, like a second skin, catching a whiff of his cologne, something masculine and dark, mixed with the two-in-one body wash he used.
"how much?"
the deep monotone voice pulled you out of the trance, not realizing how you’d practically been drooling over his abs.
“uh, thirty dollars.”
toji didn’t say anything, just fished around his sweatpants pockets, only to come out holding a piece of lint and a crumbled gum wrapper like a taunting peace offering.
he sucked his teeth, gaze slowly lifting to you. “aw shitt…i forgot my wallet back home, doll.”
it was a blatant lie, full of shit. he didn’t even bother to hide the amusement in his tone. but you weren’t having any of it.
“well, if you can’t pay, you’re going to do something,” you huffed softly, mind going to chores around your house, mowing the lawn, taking out the trash, something to make up for your services. though the moment you crossed your arms, pushing up those tits, toji had another idea in mind. and it wasn’t playing house husband.
“i got somethin’ in mind.”
you didn’t expect this to be what he was referring to: sweat-sheened limbs tangled, clothes optional, and hand cupped over your sapping maw to muffle those desperate moans.
“fuck you’re wetter than i imagined.” his head dipped, teeth grazed your nape, and heavy thighs bracketed your hips from behind.
“you been wantin’ this, huh? this pussy hoping i couldn’t pay?”
the headboard had banged against the wall nonstop the past fifteen minutes, bed springs creaking under your combined weight, every wet slap of his balls against your puffy clit punctuated with his deep grunts.
you moaned against his palm, feeling your skin heat up, thankful he couldn’t see your face in this position. you did want this, too embarrassed to admit it, imagining his cock stretching you, how deep it’d hit, how his skin would feel against yours. body jolting forward with each punishing snap of his cock, sliding in and out your soaked pussy.
“toji–too…much!” you whined out, clawing at the sheets desperately, but he wasn’t letting you run from it. a sharp smack rippled your skin, stinging instantly. “fuck!”
“you can take it, you’re already takin’ it so good, sweetheart,” he purred, a strangled chuckle vibrating against your skin as you whimpered and squirmed beneath him, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place. “you said i had to pay, didn’t ya? and–” smack! “m’payin’ right now, baby. with this tight pussy.”
he was so deep, so big, so overwhelming, you could feel everything. every vein, the way thick length never stopped. you choked on your own spit, his palm covered in your saliva by now, eyes rolling and toes curling every time he found that spongy spot.
“fuck, grippin’ me so tight–hah–you like this shit don’t you?” he didn’t wait for a response, speeding up, his cock finally finding that sensitive spot, the one that made your back arch and grip threaten to circumcise his dick. “fuck, m’payin’ like this every time now, baby.”
the bed’s squeaking got more threatening, sure that it was close to snapping any second. it didn’t matter though, he was so gone he’d probably just keep fucking you anyway.
“you close?’ his lips found your ear, whispering almost softer.
“mhm–don’t stop!”
he groaned at the desperate muffled plea, fingers curling into your jaw, his hips now going faster, chasing your orgasm. “not leavin’ this pussy til it’s filled.” his hot breath ghosting your sensitive skin.
his free hand snaked around, finding your swollen, throbbing clit, the rough pad of his thumb rubbing tight circles. you choked on a muffled cry, your back bowing violently with shakes as your orgasm crashed. toji’s grip tightened on your waist, keeping you there.
“there it is…making such a mess on these pretty sheets, baby.” he didn’t stop, continuing to fuck you through it; even as he felt his orgasm on the verge of boiling over. he found every muffled sound you made incredibly hot, along with the sounds of his soaked length continuing to pound your oversensitive sobbing cunt deep. “such a fuckin’ squirter, your like a fire hydrant for me,” he teased, ignoring your embarrassed grumble.
a deep groan finally left his lips, burying his face in your back as he spilled thick hot ropes inside your welcoming walls. “fuckkk…”
after minutes of sticky chest heaving and heavy pants, he finally removed his hand, allowing you to breathe more clearly than you had the past thirty minutes. you rolled onto your back, and he mirrored the action, rolling onto his side to look at you. a mess, wrecked, and completely fucked by him.
“so, when we doin’ this again?” his rough hand surprisingly gentle, brushing back your hair.
“never. tell no one this happened, toji,” you muttered, lying through your teeth as you melted into his touch.
he smirked, pulled you closer, his large hand tucking you into his side as he continued stroking your back now, giving your ass a soft squeeze as his cum leaked.
“c’mon…don’t be like that, baby, you liked it.”
“mm.”
“can you at least fix my hair before i dip, or are we going another round first?”
you scoffed, but there was a trace of a smile on your lips. “you’re impossible.”
he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss there. “you like it. now answer the question before i decide.”
your cute bf!nerdjo was more of a freak than he’d let on… ♡‧₊˚ 18+
the blinding rays of morning sunlight filtered through the semi-open blinds; you squinted instinctively, rolling onto your side and burying yourself in a pillow.
you were completely exhausted–getting up right now wasn’t even a question.
a small groan escapes your lips, thighs gently brushing together.
that’s when it hit you.
your limbs throbbing with a delicious ache that bordered both pain and pleasure, head hammering a steady pulse, and a numbing, boneless sensation.
all lingering aftereffects of last night–the addictive taste of post-rough, late-night sex.
no one on campus would believe it if you told them.
told them that your cute nerdy little boyfriend satoru–the one who stumbled over his words when he got nervous, or could explain the quantum theory of paramagnetic off the top of his head like it was normal…
was the one who put it down on you nightly—and i mean he laiddd that pipe.
you could recall the multiple instances during sex when he left you baffled.
the first being when he made you read back his chemistry homework–mid bullying of his cockhead against your cervix, might i add– just so he could do the corrections for his final in real time. while satisfying your needs. simultaneously.
or the time you had to study for one of your anatomy and physiology classes, needing to memorize the human muscular system by the end of the week. he licked each atom on your body, pausing afterwards and looking up at you through his lashes.
his dazzling blue eyes waited for your answer on which body part he just licked. and he didn’t want the basic, “arm” or “abs,” no, no…
he expected the medical terms for you to treat this like an actual test.
so whenever you answered, “sternocleidomastoid,” “sartorius,” or “deltoid,” he’d reward you.
large hands wrapping around your thighs and spreading them apart. lapping at your puffy clit until it was overstimulated and you were begging for him to stop and continue at the same time.
but each time you got it wrong, tried to buck your hips forward with a needy whine, he’d stop with an almost cruel smile and say, “sorry, pretty girl, that was wrong…try again,” voice dripping mock sympathy and condescension. satoru would push your hips down firmly into the mattress until you tried again.
from the geeky digimon hyperfixation, nightwing-themed watch he wore daily, dc sheets on his bed, and the video games, comics, and star wars lego sets displayed on his bookcase, nothing gave off superfreak to the naked eye.
but you knew better than the innocent, stoic side he gave everyone else.
when it was just the two of you, he was a completely different kind of freak.
your freak.
currently hunched over his desk, working on some homework for his classes, more than likely computer science. his long, slender fingers were typing rapidly across his keyboard, pausing occasionally to stretch them out before resuming once more. the other hand was treading through the short white hairs of his nape, twirling aimlessly.
“toru…?”
your voice came out more like a croaky whisper. throat dry and biting with irritation once you spoke.
damn—what didn’t hurt?
his head instantly shot up, tousled strands of white hair falling into his eyes as he looked over his shoulder, a small smile forming.
“oh, hey baby…” he murmured, the glasses on his nose bridge sliding briefly before he pushed them back into place.
“how’d you sleep? any pain..? still sore? i…i didn’t hurt you, right?”
the rapid firing of his questions, soft eyes, and gentleness in his tone were enough to make you melt into his mattress. there was no hope left for you; you were whipped. completely.
“no, no, m’fine…” you lazily mumbled, slowly sitting up and using your elbows to hold yourself up.
“just…the usual soreness..”
you gave him a weak, reassuring smile, but even he wasn’t fully convinced–maybe the way you winced when you sat up gave it away.
he spun around in the chair, pushing off the armrest and stalking over to you.
lord, was he huge.
all cut and toned muscle, six-foot-three, and a v-line that could send any woman within a 30-mile radius into cardiac arrest–you, of course, being no exception from that.
satoru was half naked from the waist up, wearing only loose-fitting grey sweats, and with the way he was walking, you could make out the faint print underneath them—no boxers.
your mouth began watering instinctively, pulse thumping in your ears, trying to push the lustful thoughts forming down—you were literally sore as hell, and you were thinking about more? insatiable. greedy.
and you didn’t care one bit.
you could still remember his voice from last night. he had you in a full nelson, his chest pressed your back, a tight grip on your thighs, lips brushing your ear as he whispered filthy and condescending praise.
how he groaned against your nape when you were close to coming, husky voice referring to your sloppy cunt as a “greedy girl holding him hostage.”
the familiar throbbing rushed back all at once from the memory, the aching only adding to the sensation.
he paused at the foot of his bed, studying your expression with a puzzled brow raise.
satoru’s gaze pierced into you over the rim of his glasses, adams apple bobbing as he finally registered the dark, ravenous look that washed over you.
he knew.
dammit, he knew.
slowly. teasingly. predatorily, almost, he grabbed your ankles, pulling you to the edge of the bed before you could blink. you let out a half gasp, half yelp in return.
“looks like someone’s hungry again,” he smirked. leaning down to pepper kisses along your shoulder and the curve of your neck.
“five rounds weren’t enough for you last night, hmm?” he drawls teasingly. briefly sucking before he gently bit over your pulse point, a needy whimper escaped your parted lips.
“guess i’ll have to remind my greedy girl how insatiable she is again.”
a/n: i lwk need him... comments and reblogs are always appreciated! ♡⸝⸝ mlist
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
rockstar!geto who first saw you at his band’s show in the sea of screaming half-clothed bodies, and instantly knew he needed that.
rockstar!geto who messaged you after finally finding your account (which he stalked…) to get your number properly after the show. the two of you messaged secretly for months, the messages progressing into suggestive territories.
su.g: oh yeah, that so? next show. backstage. let’s see if you're as confident in person.
rockstar!geto who smelt of leather, cigarettes, and utter despair. his trademark dark, silky hair, which fell like a veil, and silver rings that glinted under the stage lights of sold-out shows.
rockstar!geto who kept your relationship private for the first few months, wanting to protect you from the media’s constant scrutiny. but even then, he found ways to show you off, soft-launching you constantly on his feed.
“who’s the chick that’s got you pussy whipped, suguru?” the massive pink-haired bassist snickered from the couch backstage, while the drummer, choso, cleaned off his set.
“none of your business, ryomen.”
“oh, so she’s special then?” sukuna’s smirk only grew wider, “lucky fucker.”
the drummer rolled his eyes as he passed, tossing a guitar pick at his head, “at least one of us isn’t whoring around.”
“i’m sure she’s sweet, sug. congrats.”
rockstar!geto who couldn’t keep his hands off you once you went public. twining your hands, sitting you on his lap while you played in his hair, making out in the studio after hours, or bringing you out to every show just to shout you out. his bandmates constantly teased him.
“are those fuckin’ hickies and scratches on your back, suguru?? you dirty dog.”
“god, he’s so whipped, it’s actually cute.”
rockstar!geto who’s songs were obviously about you, without fail; he didn’t even try to hide the fact that you were his muse. fans eating every release.
sugurusfaithfulslut: may you both be protected from my envy...i’m literally shaking with rage rn. who knows a bazooka supplier??
six3yes: sugey...baby, who tf is that?? you've been cheating on me?! btw @/sugurusfaithfulslut email me…
ssshoko: bro got a gf and don’t know how to act. lmfao
rockstar!geto who valued your opinions on his music more than anyone else. trusting your input completely. promoting you to his unofficial assistant.
rockstar!geto who spoke about you without hesitation during talk show interviews. expressing how you saved his life. that being around you was coming up for air after the storm.
“so, i hear our infamous vocalist has a special someone in his life…care to share?”
“of course, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. i don’t know where i’d be or the band without her.”
rockstar!geto who loved showing you how to strum properly in his bed, you lay between his spread legs, sharing earbuds and the spread guitar over your laps. suguru would tease you about your lack of skills, but was always patient.
rockstar!geto who had enough piercings to send a middle-aged conservative woman into cardiac arrest. loving to use them on you.
“fuckk—just like that, slower…there you go…” large ringed hands guiding your waist as you rode him perfectly--slow and deep. matching the music’s rhythm as your hips rolled, the pierced tip dragged breathy moans from your lips.
a cig dangled from his, eyes low-lidded, lazily watching you lift your hips until just the tip dared to slip out before sinking back down in the perfect deep roll. clit dragging over his pelvis. suguru's cool silver rings gliding down to spread one cheek–taking him deeper.
“keep going, you look so pretty like this.”
his hand brushed over a hardened peak, blowing a cloud of smoke before spanking you lightly.
once you finally came with a soft cry, he’d cup your cheek, brushing your cheekbones as he whispered huskily in your ear.
“i'm so proud of you, pretty girl, you did good. and I think you just gave me a new idea for the next album.”
perm tags: @wifichann @sunnyfieldsz @satorusonlygirl @bowiesprettieststar2 @neotoru + join in comments or on my taglist ☠︎︎ ⋆₊ ♱
a/n: listening to CAS at 3am while writing this was definitely my motivation, and I think I found a new obsession, geto and rockstars. mlist
boyfriend!nerdjo who’s not ashamed of letting anyone in a 5-mile radius know just how tight you have him wrapped around your finger. he’ll walk around wearing the dumbest, corniest matching couple shirts like it’s casual attire. strolling the mall hand in hand bearing a “i ❤︎ to finger paint” shirt while you wear the matching “i’m paint” pair. or his recent favorite, “i ❤︎ making ice cream” and “i’m ice” duo.
“what? they’re cool, plus it’s not like it’s really a secret…”
boyfriend!nerdjo who buys a shit-ton of things any time you tell him a new hobby you acquired. baking? he’s got already got a mixer, pans, mitts, piping bags, cute little knickknacks, and anything else you may need. crocheting? already bought all types yarn in the colors he knows you like, and sent tutorials. not to mention constantly praising each milestone and creation. he’s your number one fan…even if you get bored and find new hobby a week later.
boyfriend!nerdjo who would let you do quite literally anything to him if asked. like the time he left the nail salon with you in matching hot pink toes and didn’t complain once. or when he let you spontaneously cut his hair for the first time because you ‘felt like it’, which he trusted no one to do.
“uh, babe…are you sure you're doing it right?”
boyfriend!nerdjo who could yap for hours about his pokémon binder collection to you, explaining each card type, rarity, and how he’s spent twice his tuition on it. (he usually leaves out that last bit…).
boyfriend!nerdjo who brags about being way better than you in half the video games you play together–which he is. he’ll talk shit, gloat, and tick all the competitive boyfriend measures. yet you’ll always end up winning. to which he’ll lies and say he was ‘going easy on you’ or ‘wasn't using half his skills to spare you.’
boyfriend!nerdjo who loves cockwarming in bed while you play life simulator games together. he’ll watch you sit for hours and make you both in tomodachi life and sims in extreme detail. then do the most heinous things with your mii’s and sims.
"hey, babe…what’s that weird purple heart option mean?"
boyfriend!nerdjo who media-trained himself to be your personal photographer. getting the best angles and off-guard pictures for your social media accounts. that always brings in both admirable and envious commenters.
jaynokubzscouts: who the fuck is your cameraman??? this isn't fair.
chrollosleftnut: *SIGH* must be nice to be someone’s muse...
evilasslightskin316: dawg, this has to be ai, how are you this perfect?
franknocean: bro’s cameraman must get beaten if her pics aren’t pinterest worthy. lmfao.
clitorology: is that satoru’s shadow in the back??? he’s lucky i’m not behind allat…
boyfriend!nerdjo who shares a minecraft world with you, letting you build the village and care for the animals, while he always mysteriously does some ‘off cam’ mining. (he somehow got full diamond amor on the first night).
boyfriend!nerdjo who’s roommate swears up and down that he sees you more often than he does satoru since you’ve gotten your own spare key.
boyfriend!nerdjo who loves wearing matching spiderman shirts, socks, and mugs with you. not to mention you’ve watched the entire marvel universe 10 times together already.
boyfriend!nerdjo who always remembers the smallest details about you that you would never notice yourself, and will say the dumbest shit just to see you laugh.
boyfriend!nerdjo who makes sure your birthdays are always the day where you're the happiest in the room—never letting you even think about dropping a tear.
boyfriend!nerdjo who refuses to let himself come first during sex. always making sure your satisified before even considering his own relief.
“you’re coming first—“ he panted, punctuated by another sloppy thrust of his thick length and adjustment of his fogged lens, “don’t even try to argue with me, pretty girl.” when he felt your walls begin clamping around him satoru groaned, “God, that’s it…atta girl...”
a/n: I’m obsessed with writing him.
more of him? cubicles & confessions (oneshot) giving him a haircut...gone wrong? or who knew he was such a freak... (drabbles)
"WHAT DO YOU SAY? WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND?" - FEAT C.K
best friends since the days of preadolescence, raging acne, identity crises, and the overall agony of puberty, Choso Kamo never thought he'd muster the guts to tell you how he felt. now, college students, time seemed to be dwindling from his controlled grasp. and with the upcoming 4th of July festival, it seemed to be now or never. can he finally confront his most blistering fear and tell you how he feels?
cw: childhood best friend choso x reader, childhood friends to lovers, pining choso, choso is a yearnerrr, he’s adorable, semi-oblivious reader, shy/awkward choso, sfw, fluff, slight plot twist, happy ending.
wc: 1.1k
now playing: walk to class -malcom todd
mlist · note: with the fourth being today, who better to spend it than with Choso himself?? can't believe it's nearly 6am and i just finished writing this. art by @/F_tality0 on x
flickering toasted bulbs draped from tree to tree across the town’s annual 4th of july festival, the holiday’s signature blue, red, and white coloring displayed on pendant banners, the famous waterfront shimmering under the moon’s wishful eye.
couples passed by hand-in-hand, sharing kisses and bites of their delicate pastries. friends shoved into the photobooth, shutting the curtain with lingering giggles. and parents scolding their children for getting lost amongst the growing crowd. yet it seemed everyone was one in that moment, sharing the same anticipation for tonight’s big show.
the fireworks.
when the sky would erupt in bursts of vibrant colors, ranging from hues of golden yellow to cherry red, crackling and glittering in their wake.
the fourth of july was special—the one day people gathered around town to celebrate, with greasy fried foods, whipped cream on funnel cakes, and slamming back beers like water under the sun's unrelenting heat.
and choso? well, he was a wreck. clammy palms he seemed to wipe off against the rough fabric of his jeans, each time you turned, a restless twitching leg, and nervous laughter when he missed what you said.
today wasn’t special for him because of the town holiday. today was special because it was the day he finally gathered the guts to tell you how he felt.
that is…if he went through with it.
seven-plus years of friendship weren’t enough; he wanted more. wanted you to see him through a different lens other than the awkward, sensitive, nerdy boy you knew from seventh grade. the one who had braces and a bad mod cut his mom tried to talk him out of, but he never listened. the one you would dream big with at 3 am, sprawled on his harry potter sheets, panic! at the disco, vocals seeping from his cd player, as you daydreamed about parties. the thrill of sneaking out and losing your virginity to a special someone– all that would come with the transition to high school the following summer.
now nineteen and in your second year of undergrad, he’d grown tired of waiting, of the rehearsed shower convos he had daily, of the scenarios in which you were already his. time was only passing, days into months, months into years, and his crush was only worsening.
hand in hand through the park, the photobooth you took silly pictures using equally stupid faces, he already planned to add to the collection on his wall. in each strip, his eyes were on you, the undeniable look of love and pure adoration. which it seemed everyone could see, toji, suguru, hell–even sukuna noticed. your sheer obliviousness was almost admirable.
“are you two a…couple?”
the ferris wheel worker asked if you were a couple when he spotted choso following you around like a lost puppy, heart-eyed, and utterly swooning. you both shied away, stumbling over your words to explain the dynamic between you, despite acting like a literal couple. so affectionate no one would’ve guessed.
“wha—us???? pst…no way.” choso quickly came to the defense, his lie almost as bad as his acting. clearing his throat aggressively.
“oh! no, just…friends,” you added, flushed.
the worker just smirked disbelievingly, “uh huh…” shooting choso a knowing arched brow over your head, one that said ‘if you don’t do it now, someone else will come along without hesitation.’
that was the last bit of encouragement he needed. the thought of you with anyone else was a fate far more agonizing than death if you weren’t the one beside him.
who else would hold your shopping bags as you tried on hundreds of clothes you wouldn’t buy? who would listen to you rant on and on, head in his lap, just listening and playing with your hair soothingly. who’d lie with you about your birthday to snag free pizookies, or laugh at the cringey vlogs you made in high school together?
it had to be tonight. it had to be him.
it was 11:50 when the festival crowd rushed to the waterfront, buzzing with anticipation and excitement for the fireworks show. children babbling, girls squeaking, and the elderly already complaining about the noise in advance.
everyone was in their own circles, and yet again, his eyes went to you. always on you. watching the way your face lit up, how you talked with such happiness about the fireworks, how your nose did a cute twitch when you were cold.
he immediately shrugged off his jacket, helping you into it as it swallowed your frame. his arm pulling you into his side, hands reaching to rub your back for warmth. it was definitely more intimate than friendly…but you didn’t seem to mind.
you never did.
the countdown was happening now. screams and cheers of joy echoed the internal countdown now playing in his head. he had seconds left, eyes darting down to you again, seeing the way you were distracted, his body slowly turning to face yours. your attention shifted, giving him a confused look as he gently cupped your face. his cool skin against the softness of yours,
thumbs swept gently over your cheekbones while he built the courage not to back out now. he couldn’t.
the cheers quieted now, drowned out by the pace of his rapid beating heart, thumping in his eardrums like a timer.
“will…” his lips paused; throat clenching, he swallowed–hard. catching the way you patiently waited, those damned beautiful eyes he often lost himself in, searching his.
“listen,” he corrected, clearing his throat, the sound of the crowd’s countdown getting closer fading back in.
“..ten..nine…eight…”
“i know, this is sorta sudden, but i can’t hold onto the weak promise of tomorrow’s courage any longer, and how each day i hold back is another i waste without you in my arms…”
you froze. eyes widening.
“so…may you make me the happiest guy here, and give me the honor of being your boyfriend…?” he finished shakily, holding his breath.
he didn’t have much time to react before you launched yourself at him, arms thrown around his neck with a happy laugh, “yes, cho! finally!”
you’d been…waiting???
“...three…two...one…!”
the fireworks shot off, creating echoing booms–his timing perfect, not even caring that you’d just admitted to knowing this entire time. his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he leaned down. capturing your lips in a slow, passionate kiss, like you were the only oxygen and celebration he needed that night.
smiling against your lips, Choso tilted your head, deepening the kiss further, the fireworks painting your dark silhouettes with the deep sapphires and emerald greens, the crowd cheering and shrieking around you, and gunpowder sprinkled over your clothes. but neither of you cared. or stopped. continuing to make out under the sparkling sky.
tonight marked the best fourth of july of his life.
tags:@wifichann @sunnyfieldsz @satorusonlygirl @bowiesprettieststar2 @neotoru @b-bitter @tchmiya @lillylovestoji92 @v4mpyyb4tzz+ join or in the comments
synopsis : for months, anonymous gifts appeared on your desk, first were occasional bouquets, then fresh coffee during late nights, and scribbled tips on colorful sticky notes, all signed ‘--yours truly, your secret admirer.’ you thought they’d never reveal themselves, until a drunken email confession flips everything.
content : office colleague nerd!jo x reader, mdni, afab!reader, twist ending, office au, porn with plot, unprotected sex–don’t be like them, oral (fem recieving), fingering, p in v, fingers in mouth, hair pulling, nerd!jo is vocal and a whimper, switch nerd!jo, mirror sex, humiliation kink, creampies, condescending praise, brief spanking, alcohol and cigs mentioned (bar), he's a yapper
w.c : 4.1K author's note : this took wayyy too long, but it was so worth it. first oneshot and lwk I love it. art creds: @/chhherubi on x and @/artiwithsingle_a on ig
it was the third time this week.
atop the mahogany desk sat a floral arrangement, along with the signature sticky note—blue today, written in it’s familiar, neat handwriting.
‘prettiest flowers for the prettiest girl.
–yours truly, your secret admirer.’
"your guy’s clearly consistent.”
instinctively jumping, you whirl around to see shoko’s head peeking into your cubicle. “what?” she shrugged as if she hadn't scared the shit out of you, “i mean, it's been...eight months now?"
eight months.
the sticky notes, the gifts, the gestures. and yet still had no idea who it was.
the office was constantly buzzing. chatting colleagues, fresh-ground coffee, clacking of keyboards, house music for people on hold, and the printing machine that finally got fixed last month (after years of complaints to management).
so honestly? finding out who the anonymous lover behind it all was is the least of your worries right now.
"at least they always know what flowers i like," you pushed the vase aside with the others, plopping onto the squeaking chair, and making another mental note to get some wd40 soon.
“and you don’t find that…weird?” shoko persisted with an arched brow, leaning against the desk. “they know every time, it feels less like guessing.”
that was true; it never felt random or coincidental now—it was intentional. and you couldn’t decide if it was boarding the line between oddly endearing or creepy. maybe both, leaning towards the latter.
it had been three years since you started working for nanami kento; the man was efficient, to put it lightly. always making sure his employees were kept on their toes, their workloads manageable yet productive. he was rarely ever in the office, always out on business trips and meetings, or on the occasional collaboration with hiromi higuruma’s law firm.
you logged onto your desktop, preparing for the dreadful workload today. copious emails already flood your inbox, all marked tasks for today.
great.
“yes, it’s weird, sho, it’s harmless.”
she paused for a beat before shaking her head, completely used to your stubbornness by now.
“yeah, for now. anyways, don’t forget--bar tonight with suguru.”
she slipped out, pencil skirt swaying and leaving you to fall into the usual rhythm of work, the flow of fingers flying over keys, answering calls, fueling your caffeine addiction, wondering if the money was truly worth the mental strain, and a brief reminder of your unfilled pinterest boards being your leading motivation these days.
──── ₊˚⊹ ♡
by three, it was lunch, a head of white hair swiftly sliding over in his rolling chair, head peeking over the wall separating your cubicles.
“hey…today’s been rough, huh? you heading to lunch too?”
satoru gojo, the office’s bi analyst, is arguably the smartest man you’d ever met. he had the credentials to back it up, a prestigious university degree, topped off with a resume full of achievements that every cousin must envy him for.
dressed in his usual attire—pinstriped button-up with the sleeves rolled, name tag dangling from his neck, tailored slacks, messenger bag that held half his hobbies, and his signature pristine frames. he was consistent and polished without overdoing it. and attractive as hell.
sometimes you wondered how he didn’t have a girlfriend; he was the perfect mixture of nerdy and hot.
well, besides the moments, he was a total klutz—apologizing profusely afterwards.
or his specifically organized cubicle, decorated with comics, dual-curved monitors, posters, and marvel figures.
and there’s also the fact that he can break down programming and pc specs like he’s talking about the weather.
“yeah, m’starving,” you leaned back in the chair, stretching longitudinally with an exasperated groan, skirt swaying.
it was around nine when you finished for the day, the once buzzing office empty, shadows left in the places of people, and the quiet hum of the water cooler. the rare peace was refreshing, like the mist of an ac on a blazing summer day.
once you grabbed your things and walked to the elevator, the tall, white-haired man was waiting by the reflective metal doors. a glimpse of his sleeper build visible under the taut shirt as he read the comic.
“which one’s that?”
satoru’s head shot up, stammering a response that clearly wasn’t previously rehearsed. “oh—uh, it’s x-men…you know the series?” he flipped the comic around to show the cover.
a pink flush blooming on his skin with the crooked smile. adorable.
“mhm, i watched a few of the movies actually…” a gentle smile formed on your lips, watching the elevator's numbers ascend.
“what? no way—which was your favorite??”
“deadpool was pretty good…”
the conversation flowed easily while you both waited, his excitement evident with how he would sometimes speak over you—then apologize just a quick. the pure passion in his tone was heartwarming; it made his sometimes cocky demeanor seem distant.
on the ride down, conversation continued about random things. realizing he was a dorky sweetheart beneath his usual intelligence and slight arrogance.
“satoru,” you called before he could step off. he paused, glancing over his shoulder promptly with a hopeful look. “i’m going to the bar tonight with shoko and geto…wanna tag along?”
──── ₊˚⊹ ♡
ryo’s bar was notorious for its lively atmosphere—the building pulsed rhythmically with its own heartbeat. bass cracking through speakers, drunk husbands arguing over sports games, shoulders brushing, perfume lingering, and the scent of citrus and tobacco welcomed your senses before the rowdy laughter.
dim amber lighting, the glow of red led signs, and the clacking of 8 balls made this place home. familiar. somewhere you and shoko constantly frequented once you found out how close it was to the office.
shoko was on her fourth cig, smoke danced from the ashtray like black spiraling ribbons. “fucking idiot, i told him to come hours before,” she muttered, blowing out a small stream.
“suguru will be here, sho, you know how he is,” you shrugged, sipping your drink.
satoru sat on the other side of you, drinking water instead of alcohol. when you offered for him to tag along earlier, he had specified he wasn’t much of a drinker. he idly swirled the cup, the mounted tv screen reflecting on his lenses, expression neutral. just as you were about to turn to shoko, suguru’s calming voice startled both of you.
“you think he’ll be like that all night?”
suguru’s tall figure stood behind your barstools, hands stuffed in his oversized dark jeans pockets. his eyes darted between you both, a small smirk tugging at his lips, “i said i’d be here, didn’t i?”
soon, shoko and suguru were both laughing and jabbing over drinks and cigs, blending with the atmosphere, sounds of glass clinking, the bar's owner, sukuna, barking orders at his employee, toji, for slacking off for the fifth time that shift.
you joined in on the conversations, elbowing and snorting into your drink. yet you couldn’t shake satoru’s silence.
“hey,” you nudged him gently, voice calm and soothing, “you alright? you’ve been quiet tonight.”
those arctic blue eyes met yours behind the glinting frames before darting away just as quickly, “i’m just…not used to these sorta things…”
he scratched his neck sheepishly, adjusting his glasses, “is it…that awkward?”
your eyes crinkled lightly in the corners; you could tell he was nervous, out of his normal environment. it was honestly endearing. teasing him gently, you sucked your teeth, “it’s pretty hard to ignore…”
“damn…and here i thought i was being cool.”
“oh, never that…it’s like being a wallflower at a bar.”
“that bad?” he snorted, bursting into quiet laughter, shoulders dropping, tone incredulous.
“that bad, i almost regretted inviting you.”
finally, you managed to get satoru more comfortable at the bar; he decided to order a drink—finally—and joined the conversation with suguru and shoko.
turns out satoru was a lightweight. he was barely two drinks down, already drunk off his ass. he was now on a passionate ramble about video game lore, smugly explaining how tlou clickers worked and how likely their existence would be.
also, according to him, he’d survive, the cocky side of his dorky personality unapologetically making an appearance.
shoko and suguru both exchanged amused glances, clearly enjoying this side of him more.
“so, we’d all die basically. except you,” shoko concluded flatly, signaling another round to the lazy bartender.
“essentially, yes.”
soon, you noticed the way satoru would look at you when he thought you didn’t notice. eyes darting away each time with a growing flush. his knee occasionally brushes yours under the bar. you dismissed him as being drunk and potentially trying to flirt. you’d subtly flirt back, watching his reactions and listening as he passionately switches from geeky topics to intellectual debates.
the night closed with the four of you leaving the bar, suguru driving you all home. shoko sat in the passenger seat, complaining about working on monday, while you sat with satoru in the back.
he was fully out of it now, hiccuping and slurring his words, singing along to the radio, and mumbling something about him feeling ‘s’good’ while his head lay on your shoulder. fingers gently combing through his messy strands, you whispered, “you’re so out of it…” biting back a smile.
satoru’s head lolled back, looking up through white lashes, “you’re so pretty…”
you nearly choked on your own spit, “what?”
he simply mumbled again, incoherently this time, eyes drooping before they fluttered closed.
did he just?
luckily, suguru was too busy teasing shoko the rest of the drive to notice, passing streetlights catching on his sharp jawline as he laughed. but the rest of the way, you couldn’t ignore the sudden warmth and flutter in your chest.
──── ₊˚⊹ ♡
after being dropped off at your apartment, you quickly fell into your nightly routine, despite being tipsy. finishing the night off with a quick check of your email, per usual, to make sure you didn’t miss anything nanami assigned.
you scrolled through your inbox with a low-lidded gaze, yawning and lifting your head frequently. then one email woke you completely.
to: [name, surname]
subject: r u up? i can’t stop thinking about you
i’m sorry, know it’s late…and i’m a little drunk, not to mention i’ll probably never send this—sorry, rambling even through email. anyways. since the day i saw you at the office, i knew you were special. and no, it’s not because you're pretty, though you're the most beautiful girl i’ve met, or the way you smile when someone does something for you without asking, or the way your nose scrunches at the smell of ground coffee in the mornings.
okay, i sound like an idiot. christ, why is this so hard? i’m not good at this. never have been. words. i can’t express myself without rambling or rehearsing the conversation before. i’m a mess, i’m awkward and clumsy, constantly making a fool of myself or being an arrogant prick when it comes to my intelligence.
which is why i started this, the sticky notes, the gifts. the anonymity of it all. i got to see your reactions from my cubicle, the way you lit up on hard days when you felt no one cared, i cared. i always have. even if i lack the guts to say it to your face. so, it was never meant to be creepy. it was just my way of getting your attention despite not having the balls to do it in person. anddd now i’m talking about my balls on email. great. definitely never sending this now, goodnight.
–yours truly, your secret admirer
the email was clearly a drunk confession; you managed to decipher the various misspelled words. except the email itself wasn’t what caught your eye. it was the sender.
from: satoru gojo
holy. shit.
the realization hit you like a physical blow, slapping you across your face.
satoru was the secret admirer this entire time, all these months, your nerdy colleague one cubicle away had been the sender. your intoxicated mind seemed to sober completely now, re-reading the message a few times to make sure the caffeine hadn’t made you a complete loon.
each time you whispered the last sentence to yourself. this was really happening.
the morning arrived, toasted sun peeked over the swaying trees. birds sang their greetings and soft ballads. you were painfully hungover, body protesting with each stiff movement. reaching to open your laptop again, surely last night was a dream. and sure enough, it was still there.
not a thing had changed; it was real.
──── ₊˚⊹ ♡
weeks had passed since that night, satoru never brought it up, and you never asked. it was just a drunk accidental email, that’s all. except that the anonymous gifts stopped. completely.
when you came into the office, the weekly floral arrangements weren’t there. no sticky notes scribbled in the familiar signing. no tips when the workload got confusing with chibi drawings. no fresh coffee waiting. nothing.
like when you didn’t have enough episode gems to get married in an actual wedding dress as a kid.
the flip was instant. almost unsettling in a way. the honeymoon phase was over–and reality was a bitch.
each time your paths crossed, it was painfully awkward.
breakroom coffee runs ending with awkward laughter, mumbled ‘sorrys’, and tight-lipped smiles when you reached for the same cup. tensing when he came over to explain something to you, his heart pounding when his strong arms caged you in, lenses sliding down his nose, and leaning over you to point something out on the screen. his lips dangerously close to your ear.
somehow, he got even hotter now that you knew it was him.
your gaze drifted over his muscles when he wore short-sleeved shirts, the way he combed through his hair when he was annoyed or stressed over something, the hung smile he got when someone praised him, and how his cologne lingered in rooms long after he left.
you were fucked to put it figuratively—hopefully literally too.
the suffocating cycle repeated. it seemed neither of you would say anything, forgetting the email had happened entirely and going back to colleagues. strained colleagues.
──── ₊˚⊹ ♡
it had been officially a week of this ‘new routine.’ and after a long day, you packed up your things, grabbed your purse, and walked toward the elevators. the office is regularly empty around this time.
heels clicking the freshly polished floors, the floor-to-ceiling windows surrounding the building showed off tonight's full moon, “pretty…” you murmured into the quiet halls.
“hey.”
you spun around, satoru following not too far behind, his tall frame catching up easily in two strides. he had the same late-night preference as you; the quieter the office, the easier it was to actually get the workload done.
“sorry, i didn’t want the elevator to make two trips…you mind?”
it was probably one of the first times you both were actually alone since that night, forced to confront the email.
“no, i get it.”
“cool…uh, thanks.”
both of you stepped onto the elevator, the metal doors sealing your fates in the descent of the decently sized box.
silence.
sounds of quiet breaths and shuffles, no eye contact, closed off bodies. this was going to be a long trip.
about a minute in, you could feel him glance over, but you didn’t stop looking at the doors, though. daring the damned box to move any slower.
by the time the elevator finally stopped, you were already walking out when you felt a large, cool hand snake out, grabbing your wrist. gentle yet firm.
“wait.”
one word. one desperate command.
he slowly spun you around again, those blue eyes even closer now. “you read it. didn’t you?”
a shiver ran down your spine. you knew exactly what ‘it’ was.
the email.
there was no point in lying. it was practically written over your face every day since he sent it. he watched your expression change and blew out a breath, hand running through his hair, the other still loosely around your wrist.
“look, i’m sorry, that wasn’t supposed to send out, and i know it’s probably weird now. you probably just think i’m some stalker and—”
you pressed a hand to his chest, instantly pausing him mid-rant.
“satoru. just shut up and kiss me.”
“wait—what—”
“don’t make me repeat myself,” you sighed.
and that was all it took. he used your wrist as leverage, pulling you flush against him as your lips crashed together. the kiss was desperate and hard, full of built-up tension and want.
and he kissed like a madman, groaning deeply, his hand sliding around to grip your waist, cupping your cheek as it naturally progressed. your arms wrap around his neck, tugging at the short hairs on his nape.
──── ₊˚⊹ ♡
you don’t remember how exactly you got to his apartment, but you did.
stumbling through the threshold after he fumbled with the keys for a good five minutes with shaky hands, still trying to keep the kiss going with one hand on your ass.
entangled bodies knocking things over in the darkness, muffled giggles between kisses, and roaming hands.
it felt like those dramatic movie scenes. except it was real. your reality.
satoru peeled off his shirt, toned abs flexing as he walked backwards to his bedroom, tugging you along. watching as you kicked off your heels haphazardly, a sly smirk slowly formed on his lips.
he kicked his door shut behind you with his foot, practically shredding his pants. “bed.”
the command was immediate, low and gentle, but firm; you were soon to realize that when that door closed, he was no longer just your nerdy colleague.
you backed until the back of your calves hit the bed, falling onto it as he crawled over you, kissing and sucking at your neck hungrily, “fuck, satoru–” you moaned, arching off the plush mattress.
“shh, fuck i’ve been wanting to taste you for so fucking long,” he admitted, breath hot on your skin. his hands were mapping out your bare waist under the dress, “can i?” he paused seriously, waiting for consent.
when you nodded with no hesitation and mumbled a quiet ‘yes’, he kissed down your body, removing the dress slowly before throwing it into a dark corner of the room, joining the pile.
satoru finally settled between your thighs, spreading them slowly. when he finally saw you, he groaned deeply, kissing your inner thigh and then higher, getting dangerously closer to your core each time.
“satoru…”
“hm?”
he knew what you wanted, teasing on purpose. he slowly spreads your inner folds, pressing a gentle kiss to your clit, making your breath hitch. “you’re such a good girl, aren’t you? look at how wet this pussy is for me.”
his tongue slowly traced it before switching between gentle sucks and licks, holding you open for him. he was slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to devour you.
“you taste better than i imagined,” he hummed against your pussy, feeling your fingers tugging at his hair.
eventually, he began actually eating you out. tongue swirling and sucking harder as your juices dripped down his chin, the sounds like sacred melodies for his ears only. wet slurps and his muffled moans filled the dimly lit room; the full moon shone through the blinds.
slipping two fingers in once you were ready, he began stretching you out, whispering praises with each slow roll of your hips. “come on, baby,” he encouraged, feeling your legs shaking, doubling his efforts until you came with a soft cry. “there it is…so pretty for me.”
“fuck,” you were still catching your breath when he pulled off his boxers, and holy shit.
his thick length slapped against his stomach, leaking and pulsing at the tip. he wrapped a hand around it, stroking once, twice, “see something you like?” satoru teased, that mischievous glint behind his skewed lenses. “come on, ride it.”
──── ₊˚⊹ ♡
the stretch had you both groaning deeply, sinking until his balls were flush against your ass. he leaned back, giving you full control, his hands settling on your hips. not guiding just there. “take what you need, go ahead.”
thighs spread wide over his hips, you began moving. slow at first, sliding up till just the tip stretched you before sinking back down again with the wet slap of his balls. taking him deep each time he whimpered. “holy shit—just…again.”
once you got into the motions, you began spreading up. he got even more vocal as you bounced on his lap faster, “i didn’t think…you be so—fuck—”
his hips jutted up before he stopped himself, “sorry–sorry, i just…god, you feel so good. uh, you didn’t think i’d be so what…hah..bi–big?”
“mhm…” you whimpered between nods, fucking yourself faster now on his cock. the sounds lewd and filthy, using his broad shoulders as leverage. “yeah, most don’t…they think just because my personality is…nerdy…i’d just be some pathetic loser. or a virgin–which there’s nothing wrong with that, it's just—”
“satoru.”
“sorry.”
──── ₊˚⊹ ♡
again. his personality switches were dizzying.
the mattress dipped under you, on all fours, staring at your reflection in the full body mirror as he positioned himself again. behind you this time. slapping his cock against your cheeks. “i want you to watch yourself now. no looking away.”
he paused, leaning over your back, “you can do that for me, can’t you, my sweet girl?”
“mhm.”
“good girl,” he kissed your jaw, slowly sliding in with ease this time as he spread your cheeks open. he began slowly and deeply, holding onto your hips before he sat up again.
you could see everything at this angle, his balls slapping against your clit, the way your face twitched with each thrust, lips parting. his figure towering over you, muscles flexing under your gaze as he briefly adjusted his frames.
“don’t watch me, silly, look at you.” he cupped your chin, turning your head back to watch your own reflection. “see that?” he whispered huskily, hips slapping against your ass. “how deep your taking me?”
he noticed how into this you seemed and smirked darkly, suddenly speeding up. electing a shocked moan from you, your mouth falling open, tits bouncing roughly. his hand firmly kept your chin in place. “you’re such a dirty girl…you like being dirty, hm?”
your reflection looked drunk off this, pathetic, and dazed. helpless as you watched yourself getting thoroughly fucked by the office nerd. “yes, i’m so fucking dirty…”
“good girl…” he brushed his hair back, thrusting faster while keeping the punishing depth. it was filthy, your body bouncing, face twisting into something more desperate. his hand that wasn’t on your chin gripped your hips harder, wet slaps getting louder until a broken sob of pleasure left your lips.
“aww, what’s wrong, pretty girl? you were so desperate for this dick, right? take it.”
fat tears stained your cheeks along with the choked sobs, fisting the sheets harder but never looking away. “here,” he let go of your chin, finally replacing it with his fingers in your mouth. “suck.”
once you complied, he smirked, satisfied, and continued pounding into you, panting and whispering filthy things, while also praising how good you were being for him. leaning down to kiss your overwhelmed tears away with surprisingly gentleness, considering how he was manhandling you.
slamming home over and over until he felt your walls begin to convulse, fluttering rapidly around him. “you wanna come…don’t you?” you nod eagerly, sniffling and still sucking on his digits.
“then fucking come,” he demanded, spanking you suddenly. that was the last straw–back bowing sharply with a devastating silent scream. shattering perfectly. he didn’t let up, panting and whimpering through it as you gripped him impossibly tight. thrusting one last time as he buried himself deep. following with a loud moan and filling you with thick ropes of cum. “fuckkk.”
you both were silent for a moment, catching your breath before he slowly pulled out, whimpering softly as he did. satoru kissed down your spine soothingly, watching his cum leak out of your puffy lips. trickling your inner thighs.
“look at the mess you made…poor baby.”
──── ₊˚⊹ ♡
you lay in his strong arms, flush against him, and head against his chest as he played with your hair, his heart beating steadily under your ear.
“you’re so pretty…” he noted for the hundredth time that night, pecking your nose with a genuine smile.
you smiled back, nuzzling closer into his bicep, mumbling happily.
“you know…there’s something i should probably tell you…” he cleared his throat after a minute of silence, his gaze dropping back to you seriously.
“what…?” you sat up, smiling, instantly fading.
“you know, that email…?”
“yeah…what about it?”
“it wasn’t just a drunk accidental email."
"i uh…i did it on purpose...”
“...you what?!”
mlist · perm tags : @wifichann @sunnyfieldsz @satorusonlygirl @bowiesprettieststar2 @neotoru @b-bitter + join or in the comments
ⓘ frat!kuna was far from your typical prince charming... | art by su2kuna on x
» frat!kuna who's the textbook definition of a walking red flag, the one's parents warned their daughters about before sending them off to college, the ones police knew on a first-name basis, & the one's every girl on campus raved about in their group chats.
» frat!kuna who's body was a field day for metal detectors, adorned in body jewelry ranging from facial to more daring ones hidden below the belt. he looked like he'd walked straight out of a 2000s teen movie, backpack slung over one broad shoulder, tattooed skin, baggy jeans and band tees he'd stolen from suguru.
» frat!kuna who had more assault charges and, ironically, hot mugshots from frat parties than one could count on hands; satoru and suguru were quick to intervene, toji laughed, choso winced, and nanami tsked like an unimpressed father. in sukuna's latest arrest, he attempted to convince the police his fist 'slipped' and somehow connected to naoya’s jaw. purely accidental.
» frat!kuna who's room in the frat house smelled of lingering teen spirit, weed from his new dealer, the musk of sex, and cologne to 'conceal it.' a forgotten bra from a blurry hookup last saturday swept under his bed, a pile of two-week-old laundry in his hamper, his walls covered with random band posters, warning signs, and magazines of half-naked girls.
» frat!kuna who spent most his days being a pain in the ass, getting high, fucking around, or practicing his boxing skills at the gym. he despised this cycle, though he believed it was all he'd ever amount to. hiding how smart he truly was, how he read psychology books because they genuinely intrigued him, or how the fog and rain seemed to capture his soul.
» frat!kuna who first saw you in a vinyl shop, and felt like he'd seen an angel that day. who knew angels listened to cigarettes after sex and paramore? he watched the way you hummed songs under your breath, jewelry jingled as you thumbed through the selections, greeted the cashier as if you were a regular--and suddenly the phrase, 'love at first sight' almost made sense.
» frat!kuna who found himself wanting to truly get to know you, not just get in your pants like any other girl. his red eyes searching for you around campus, trying to learn your schedule, watching the way you studied hard for exams in the library on quiet nights, or how you always sprinted toward your dorm when it was late, like you feared being chased--cute, he noted to never let you go alone again.
» frat!kuna who finally got your number, thanks to the help of choso, and asked you on an official date he meticulously planned, knowing you were more artsy. he ended up sounding like an idiot trying to form the right words and ryomen sukuna never fumbled around with girls, except you. those pretty eyes waiting patiently were almost too much for his hardened heart. "you and me...the museum downtown this friday?" "i mean...if you want. i'm not forcing you, i--fuck. ignore that. ignore me."
» frat!kuna who spent the entire duration of said date staring at you, the way you spoke, how you laughed quietly to yourself after your own jokes, and rolled your eyes at his with a small smile. the witty jabs you exchanged effortlessly, or the way you kept glancing back to make sure you weren't talking to yourself when he got silent. he found himself actually smiling when you were nerding out, effortlessly breaking down the backstories behind each piece. and that's when he truly knew he was fucked.
» frat!kuna who never cared for relationships or buying shit for girls, thinking it was for 'dorks.' yet let you splurge his card at the mall, waving you off whenever you tried to tell him you didn't need things he knew you wanted. he knew more about you than he did himself, he realized. smiling when you gushed over everything at the end of the night, giving him huge hauls, and sukuna entertained the entire thing, as if he didn't spend the money.
» frat!kuna who found himself being softer in his own way, didn't drive off before you got inside or let you open your own doors like he would've past girls. he kept his previous veil mouth to a tamer level whenever you were in proximity, and tried to focus on his studies so you wouldn't stress about him failing classes. staying up until midnight listening to you yap over the phone about random nonsense. "no, i wouldn't love you if you were a worm...gross." "but kuna--" "fine. i'd keep you in my pocket. happy??"
» frat!kuna who never claimed girls in the past, yet at every frat party or time you were both in public, he made sure to emphasize you were his girlfriend, hand glued to your hip, the small of your back, fingers twined, or guiding you around by the back of your head. all his frat brothers knew you were it for him, even if he wouldn't be caught dead telling them.
» frat!kuna who found himself venting to you about his childhood in moments when it was just the two of you, sprawled on his bed, his head in your lap, fingers in his hair. the words just slipping out, why he was such a dick, how it was a deflection--a way of rebelling for the way the world had treated him. if everyone already deemed him as unlovable, a failure, a product of his environment, and useless, why not prove them right?
» frat!kuna who started loving his birthday--not caring for them before; to him, it was just another day, only he was a year older. he didn't love them now because he cared about seeing another year, but because he got to spend another year with you. seeing your face light up when you brought him a cake you made, singing off-key and recording, that's the only wish he had--for this dream to never end.
» frat!kuna who sometimes pondered on how you were too good for him, too precious. you deserved better than him, someone without his past, someone who could worship your every breath. and yet, he wanted you anyway. selfishly. unconditionally.
» frat!kuna who treated sex like raw intimacy instead of a quick release with you. emotions over plain relief. taking his time with foreplay, actually going down on you, making sure you were comfortable and enjoying everything before he even considered himself. constantly praising you over degradation--though sex could still be rough and loud whenever you wanted the change. "you're so fuckin' pretty, keep those eyes on me, kay? just like that."
» frat!kuna who never said the words 'i love you,' not even to his family, they felt foreign on his tongue, his throat tightening around them, but looking at you, it only felt right. so he did, making sure he told you frequently, even if it was random. and he meant it each time.
» frat!kuna who didn't think about his future, not sure if he'd even be around by then with his past lifestyle. he hated children, the thought of having to bring another life into this world when he could barely take care of himself. yet found himself wondering what features they'd have, maybe your eyes and his nose? or those cute lips that make the most adorable pout when you're mad at him.
» frat!kuna who somehow found himself on one knee holding a diamond ring he worked his ass off for on your third anniversary, wanting to wait until you got your degrees to officially make you his, promising himself to you till death.
» frat!kuna who never truly changed who he was; he just became a better version of himself, one that could be worthy to be in your life. he was tired of being written off as the asshole or fuck up; he preferred being yours.
a/n: longer and angstier than i expected...
tags:@wifichann @sunnyfieldsz @satorusonlygirl @bowiesprettieststar2 @neotoru @b-bitter @tchmiya @lillylovestoji92 @v4mpyyb4tzz+ join or in the comments
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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ⓘ frat!kuna was far from your typical prince charming... | art by su2kuna on x
» frat!kuna who's the textbook definition of a walking red flag, the one's parents warned their daughters about before sending them off to college, the ones police knew on a first-name basis, & the one's every girl on campus raved about in their group chats.
» frat!kuna who's body was a field day for metal detectors, adorned in body jewelry ranging from facial to more daring ones hidden below the belt. he looked like he'd walked straight out of a 2000s teen movie, backpack slung over one broad shoulder, tattooed skin, baggy jeans and band tees he'd stolen from suguru.
» frat!kuna who had more assault charges and, ironically, hot mugshots from frat parties than one could count on hands; satoru and suguru were quick to intervene, toji laughed, choso winced, and nanami tsked like an unimpressed father. in sukuna's latest arrest, he attempted to convince the police his fist 'slipped' and somehow connected to naoya’s jaw. purely accidental.
» frat!kuna who's room in the frat house smelled of lingering teen spirit, weed from his new dealer, the musk of sex, and cologne to 'conceal it.' a forgotten bra from a blurry hookup last saturday swept under his bed, a pile of two-week-old laundry in his hamper, his walls covered with random band posters, warning signs, and magazines of half-naked girls.
» frat!kuna who spent most his days being a pain in the ass, getting high, fucking around, or practicing his boxing skills at the gym. he despised this cycle, though he believed it was all he'd ever amount to. hiding how smart he truly was, how he read psychology books because they genuinely intrigued him, or how the fog and rain seemed to capture his soul.
» frat!kuna who first saw you in a vinyl shop, and felt like he'd seen an angel that day. who knew angels listened to cigarettes after sex and paramore? he watched the way you hummed songs under your breath, jewelry jingled as you thumbed through the selections, greeted the cashier as if you were a regular--and suddenly the phrase, 'love at first sight' almost made sense.
» frat!kuna who found himself wanting to truly get to know you, not just get in your pants like any other girl. his red eyes searching for you around campus, trying to learn your schedule, watching the way you studied hard for exams in the library on quiet nights, or how you always sprinted toward your dorm when it was late, like you feared being chased--cute, he noted to never let you go alone again.
» frat!kuna who finally got your number, thanks to the help of choso, and asked you on an official date he meticulously planned, knowing you were more artsy. he ended up sounding like an idiot trying to form the right words and ryomen sukuna never fumbled around with girls, except you. those pretty eyes waiting patiently were almost too much for his hardened heart. "you and me...the museum downtown this friday?" "i mean...if you want. i'm not forcing you, i--fuck. ignore that. ignore me."
» frat!kuna who spent the entire duration of said date staring at you, the way you spoke, how you laughed quietly to yourself after your own jokes, and rolled your eyes at his with a small smile. the witty jabs you exchanged effortlessly, or the way you kept glancing back to make sure you weren't talking to yourself when he got silent. he found himself actually smiling when you were nerding out, effortlessly breaking down the backstories behind each piece. and that's when he truly knew he was fucked.
» frat!kuna who never cared for relationships or buying shit for girls, thinking it was for 'dorks.' yet let you splurge his card at the mall, waving you off whenever you tried to tell him you didn't need things he knew you wanted. he knew more about you than he did himself, he realized. smiling when you gushed over everything at the end of the night, giving him huge hauls, and sukuna entertained the entire thing, as if he didn't spend the money.
» frat!kuna who found himself being softer in his own way, didn't drive off before you got inside or let you open your own doors like he would've past girls. he kept his previous veil mouth to a tamer level whenever you were in proximity, and tried to focus on his studies so you wouldn't stress about him failing classes. staying up until midnight listening to you yap over the phone about random nonsense. "no, i wouldn't love you if you were a worm...gross." "but kuna--" "fine. i'd keep you in my pocket. happy??"
» frat!kuna who never claimed girls in the past, yet at every frat party or time you were both in public, he made sure to emphasize you were his girlfriend, hand glued to your hip, the small of your back, fingers twined, or guiding you around by the back of your head. all his frat brothers knew you were it for him, even if he wouldn't be caught dead telling them.
» frat!kuna who found himself venting to you about his childhood in moments when it was just the two of you, sprawled on his bed, his head in your lap, fingers in his hair. the words just slipping out, why he was such a dick, how it was a deflection--a way of rebelling for the way the world had treated him. if everyone already deemed him as unlovable, a failure, a product of his environment, and useless, why not prove them right?
» frat!kuna who started loving his birthday--not caring for them before; to him, it was just another day, only he was a year older. he didn't love them now because he cared about seeing another year, but because he got to spend another year with you. seeing your face light up when you brought him a cake you made, singing off-key and recording, that's the only wish he had--for this dream to never end.
» frat!kuna who sometimes pondered on how you were too good for him, too precious. you deserved better than him, someone without his past, someone who could worship your every breath. and yet, he wanted you anyway. selfishly. unconditionally.
» frat!kuna who treated sex like raw intimacy instead of a quick release with you. emotions over plain relief. taking his time with foreplay, actually going down on you, making sure you were comfortable and enjoying everything before he even considered himself. constantly praising you over degradation--though sex could still be rough and loud whenever you wanted the change. "you're so fuckin' pretty, keep those eyes on me, kay? just like that."
» frat!kuna who never said the words 'i love you,' not even to his family, they felt foreign on his tongue, his throat tightening around them, but looking at you, it only felt right. so he did, making sure he told you frequently, even if it was random. and he meant it each time.
» frat!kuna who didn't think about his future, not sure if he'd even be around by then with his past lifestyle. he hated children, the thought of having to bring another life into this world when he could barely take care of himself. yet found himself wondering what features they'd have, maybe your eyes and his nose? or those cute lips that make the most adorable pout when you're mad at him.
» frat!kuna who somehow found himself on one knee holding a diamond ring he worked his ass off for on your third anniversary, wanting to wait until you got your degrees to officially make you his, promising himself to you till death.
» frat!kuna who never truly changed who he was; he just became a better version of himself, one that could be worthy to be in your life. he was tired of being written off as the asshole or fuck up; he preferred being yours.
a/n: longer and angstier than i expected...
tags:@wifichann @sunnyfieldsz @satorusonlygirl @bowiesprettieststar2 @neotoru @b-bitter @tchmiya @lillylovestoji92 @v4mpyyb4tzz+ join or in the comments
‧₊ ˚⊹ choso loves thinking about you when he touches himself ! 18+
note written for this request ! first time writing for choso !!! i hope he’s whiny and slutty enough :33
cw voyeurism, reader watches choso and he doesn't know, mutual masturbation
you click the door shut behind you as you kick your shoes off at the front of your shared apartment. after a failed attempt at trying to find one specific ingredient for the dinner you were supposed to make, all you wanted to do was flop on to the couch and binge your favourite show with your roommate, choso, preferably over some takeaway.
you're about to jump straight into the shower (the markets were unbearably hot, today) when you hear loud groans from choso’s room. you think nothing of it—he’s probably grinding out resident evil like he has been for the past week. until they start getting louder and he almost sounds like he’s in pain? you pad over to his door, which is slightly ajar. you know you shouldn’t look, not without knocking. but, as a dutiful roommate, it was basically your obligation to make sure he was okay. so you peer through the crack in his door.
choso is sprawled out on his bed, one hand stroking his leaking cock whilst the other fists his sheets.
oh my god.
your mind races with unashamed lust, heart hammering against your ribcage. you should look away, leave, pretend you never saw this. but something in you possesses you to stay. maybe it’s the way his long, slender fingers wrap around his length, squeezing lightly until his tip is flushed a pretty pink and beads of pearlescent precum spill over his knuckles. maybe it’s the way he whimpers, muscled abdomen flexing with every shaky breath he takes. or maybe it’s the way that heat pools low in your stomach, the shame of watching him coiling into a throbbing ache between your legs.
you watch, in awe, at how he hisses through his teeth every time his thumb brushes over his slit, at the crease between his eyebrows, at the arch of his back off the bed when he speeds up his tempo. you should leave. now. but how can you? the sounds he’s making are just so pretty—whining as he ruts into his hand.
“f-fuck—” he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down. “so good—ngh—so gooood, wish it were your pretty mouth on me instead.” his voice breaks on a warbled sob.
your stomach lurches at his pathetic ramblings, arousal soaking your panties underneath your loose skirt. you wonder who the lucky person he’s thinking about is. it’s not like you have a crush on your roommate or anything, but you cannot deny how handsome he is. with those dark eyes and messy brown hair, that thin tattoo that stretches across the bridge of his nose. and sure, sometimes you sneak a peek at him when he’s fresh out of the shower, towel slung low on his waist, water still dripping down his toned arms. but this… this is a complete and utter invasion of his privacy.
but you still can't look away.
and as you observe him, cock twitching in his hands, you can't help but squeeze your thighs together, suddenly hyper-aware of just how soaked your underwear is. without thinking too much about the questionable ethics of your situation, you take two fingers and drag them along the fabric stuck to your folds. just to check, of course. yes, just to check. not for any other reason whatsoever.
but oh, the contact feels so good that you just have to slip your hand beneath the sticky cotton. you collect your juices from your dripping hole, bringing them up as you start to circle your sensitive clit slowly. your knees almost buckle at the electricity that immediately sparks your entire body, your free hand bracing yourself against the doorframe. you drink in the sight in front of you as you rub yourself with more fervour, pressing the pads of your fingertips into your cunt with more pressure.
you're trying so hard to be quiet as you watch choso; his hips are bucking into the air, he’s practically fucking his own fist at this point.
he’s probably close, you think to yourself, working your puffy clit harder. as much as you want to, you keep your fingers outside of your needy hole, knowing that the obscene squelch would instantly give you away.
he chokes on a moan. “please— need to cum, please i can't—”
and then, your name. you freeze, hand still shoved down your panties. you must be going crazy, hearing things. but then, there it is again. your own name. choso, your hot roommate, groaning your name out while he touches himself thinking of you. the realisation hits you like a truck and suddenly you’re moaning very much out loud.
choso’s head whips towards you. instantly, he scrambles to cover himself with a pillow. “i’m so sorry oh my god i'm so sorry,” he babbles incoherently. “how much did you see? how much did you hear— oh god, i'm so sorry, ill move out immediately, i’m—”
you’re already walking towards him before you can even register what you’re doing, mind hazy with desire. fingers still sticky with your own slick, you sit on the opposite side of his bed, facing him. you shimmy out of your panties and part your legs.
choso just sits there, breathing heavily, mouth gaping and eyes wide. a pretty pink flush graces his collarbones and spreads up to his neck, dusting his cheeks. your thoughts cease to exist beyond this moment as you part your legs and spread your gooey lips apart with two fingers. a strangled moan erupts from his throat.
“got me all wet watching you touch yourself.” you slowly drag your middle and ring finger through your folds. “were you thinking of me?”
his shoulders rise and fall with every shaky breath he takes, nodding tentatively.
you hum, circling your entrance. “keep going,” you whisper. “touch yourself for me, cho.”
choso whines at your nickname, hastily shoving the pillow off his lap as his hand practically flies to wrap back around his length. you push two fingers into yourself as he pumps his dick, both matching your hand movements to the other’s pace. the sounds coming from both of you are filthy. lewd squelching from your glistening pussy and wet plaps from his cock. choso’s hair is cascading down his neck, bangs stuck to his forehead, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. you, on the other hand, never take your eyes off him.
as the palm of your hand hits your clit with every pump of your fingers, you feel yourself being pulled to the brink of an orgasm. “cho,” you breathe out. “look at me while you cum, okay?”
he nods feverishly, rutting into his palm pathetically to bring himself deathly close to finishing. “please,” he all but whimpers. “i-i’m so close—”
you lean forward and place your free hand on his shin. “cum for me, choso.”
he’s mewling, crying out your name as he unwravels immediately, hot, thick ribbons of pearly cum spilling all over his chest. he cums with so much ferocity that you follow not long after, walls clenching around your hand as a thin, clear liquid trickles down your pussy, soaking his bedsheets.
choso’s hand is loose around his softening dick as you pull your fingers from your cunt and ease them past his lips and into his mouth. he groans around your fingers, sucking as if your slick was the first drink he’d ever had the privilege of enjoying. when you remove them with a pop, he whines at the loss of them. you’re about to apologise for dirtying his sheets when he places one large palm over your clothed chest and pulls you closer towards him by your thighs. he shifts hastily, positioning his face right between your legs and in front of your raw pussy.
he inhales deeply. “please?” he looks up at you with those big, brown doe-eyes. “let me taste you.”
nodding, you card your fingers through his messy hair. you're not complaining at today’s turn of events.
Sukuna loved to spoil you, I mean, how could he not? He absolutely adored you, even though he would never admit it.
His favourite thing to buy you was lipstick, all the different shades and colours. He thought you looked beautiful in them all. How could he not buy you every shade in the selection?
Although there was one condition.
You had to test out your newly bought lipsticks on him — his dick, to be exact.
“Come on, gorgeous. Kiss it.” His voice was rough, borderline feral, as he watched you stare up at him. You batted your lashes; the prettiest wine colour coated your plush lips.
Slowly, you leaned in, pressing your puckered lips to the very base of his shaft. The red stuck to his skin and the small hairs that rested there.
Sukuna watched with a grin, pupils dilating as you continued to press kiss after kiss along his length until you reached the tip. His breathing laboured with each kiss, the pressure of your lips on his dick sending shock waves up his spine. “Good girl, you chose the perfect shades.”
Red prints began to coat his dick, slowly losing colour as you went on. Red smeared around your lips and chin as your kisses grew sloppier with each one of Sukuna’s groans.
His hand rested on the back of your head, keeping you close. “Try another shade,” he coaxed, jerking his head down to the small bag next to his feet.
You fumbled with the bag, pulling out a small black tube. “This one’s pink, Ryo. Matches your hair,” you purred, applying the rosy shade to your lips and puckering.
Sukuna grunted, tugging your face closer to his cock, “Show don’t tell, brat.”
The lipstick faded into his blushing dick, blending with the pretty pink of his length. Sukuna’s hand rested on the back of your head, watching with hooded eyes as you continued to pepper his dick with soft kisses.
“Why don’t you get some gloss to match your pretty lipsticks, huh, baby?” He gripped his dick, poking your lips with his weeping tip. You giggled in response, “I still have like three more colours, babe. Give me a few minutes.”
Sukuna groaned, throwing his head back in annoyance. “Don’t be a brat. Enough with the teasing already.”
Rolling your eyes, you carefully take hold of his dick, soft fingers running along his length before gripping his base. Sukuna lets out a sound close to a growl, jaw tightening in tandem.
Slowly — painfully so — you begin to move your hand up and down his length, smudging the pretty kiss stains littering his shaft. Sukuna’s abs tighten at the feeling, “Come on, you can do better than that.”
You peer up at him, blinking so innocently it has him twitching beneath your fingertips. Ever so teasingly, you lean down, flattening your tongue against his tip.
The moan he lets out is downright sinful.
As you wrap your lips around his tip, his fingers dig into the back of your head possessively.
Sukuna swiped his finger over your smeared lipstick, relishing in how the colour stuck to your skin.
“Oh shit. Keep going, brat. Going to paint those pretty lips white.”
Cliffhanger because I don’t like writing bj’s and I’m kind of shit at it :P + the entire thing is meant to be the lipstick
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
ⓘ frat!kuna was far from your typical prince charming... | art by su2kuna on x
» frat!kuna who's the textbook definition of a walking red flag, the one's parents warned their daughters about before sending them off to college, the ones police knew on a first-name basis, & the one's every girl on campus raved about in their group chats.
» frat!kuna who's body was a field day for metal detectors, adorned in body jewelry ranging from facial to more daring ones hidden below the belt. he looked like he'd walked straight out of a 2000s teen movie, backpack slung over one broad shoulder, tattooed skin, baggy jeans and band tees he'd stolen from suguru.
» frat!kuna who had more assault charges and, ironically, hot mugshots from frat parties than one could count on hands; satoru and suguru were quick to intervene, toji laughed, choso winced, and nanami tsked like an unimpressed father. in sukuna's latest arrest, he attempted to convince the police his fist 'slipped' and somehow connected to nayoya's jaw. purely accidental.
» frat!kuna who's room in the frat house smelled of lingering teen spirit, weed from his new dealer, the musk of sex, and cologne to 'conceal it.' a forgotten bra from a blurry hookup last saturday swept under his bed, a pile of two-week-old laundry in his hamper, his walls covered with random band posters, warning signs, and magazines of half-naked girls.
» frat!kuna who spent most his days being a pain in the ass, getting high, fucking around, or practicing his boxing skills at the gym. he despised this cycle, though he believed it was all he'd ever amount to. hiding how smart he truly was, how he read psychology books because they genuinely intrigued him, or how the fog and rain seemed to capture his soul.
» frat!kuna who first saw you in a vinyl shop, and felt like he'd seen an angel that day. who knew angels listened to cigarettes after sex and paramore? he watched the way you hummed songs under your breath, jewelry jingled as you thumbed through the selections, greeted the cashier as if you were a regular--and suddenly the phrase, 'love at first sight' almost made sense.
» frat!kuna who found himself wanting to truly get to know you, not just get in your pants like any other girl. his red eyes searching for you around campus, trying to learn your schedule, watching the way you studied hard for exams in the library on quiet nights, or how you always sprinted toward your dorm when it was late, like you feared being chased--cute, he noted to never let you go alone again.
» frat!kuna who finally got your number, thanks to the help of choso, and asked you on an official date he meticulously planned, knowing you were more artsy. he ended up sounding like an idiot trying to form the right words. and ryomen sukuna never fumbled around with girls, except you. those pretty eyes waiting patiently were too much. "you and me...the museum downtown this friday?" "i mean...if you want. i'm not forcing you, i--fuck. ignore that. ignore me."
» frat!kuna who spent the entire duration of said date staring at you, the way you spoke, how you laughed quietly to yourself after your own jokes, and rolled your eyes at his with a small smile. the witty jabs you exchanged effortlessly, or the way you kept glancing back to make sure you weren't talking to yourself when he got silent. he found himself actually smiling when you were nerding out, effortlessly breaking down the backstories behind each piece. and that's when he truly knew he was fucked.
» frat!kuna who never cared for relationships or buying shit for girls, thinking it was for 'dorks.' yet let you splurge his card at the mall, waving you off whenever you tried to tell him you didn't need things he knew you wanted. he knew more about you than he did himself, he realized. smiling when you gushed over everything at the end of the night, giving him huge hauls, and sukuna entertained the entire thing, as if he didn't spend the money.
» frat!kuna who found himself being softer in his own way, didn't drive off before you got inside or let you open your own doors like he would've past girls. he kept his previous veil mouth to a tamer level whenever you were in proximity, and tried to focus on his studies so you wouldn't stress about him failing classes. staying up until midnight listening to you yap over the phone about random nonsense. "no, i wouldn't love you if you were a worm...gross." "but kuna--" "fine. i'd keep you in my pocket. happy??"
» frat!kuna who never claimed girls in the past, yet at every frat party or time you were both in public, he made sure to emphasize you were his girlfriend, hand glued to your hip, the small of your back, fingers twined, or guiding you around by the back of your head. all his frat brothers knew you were it for him, even if he wouldn't be caught dead telling them.
» frat!kuna who found himself venting to you about his childhood in moments when it was just the two of you, sprawled on his bed, his head in your lap, fingers in his hair. the words just slipping out, why he was such a dick, how it was a deflection--a way of rebelling for the way the world had treated him. if everyone already deemed him as unlovable, a failure, a product of his environment, and useless, why not prove them right?
» frat!kuna who started loving his birthday--not caring for them before; to him, it was just another day, only he was a year older. he didn't love them now because he cared about seeing another year, but because he got to spend another year with you. seeing your face light up when you brought him a cake you made, singing off-key and recording, that's the only wish he had--for this dream to never end.
» frat!kuna who sometimes pondered on how you were too good for him, too precious. you deserved better than him, someone without his past, someone who could worship your every breath. and yet, he wanted you anyway. selfishly. unconditionally.
» frat!kuna who treated sex like raw intimacy instead of a quick release with you. emotions over plain relief. taking his time with foreplay, actually going down on you, making sure you were comfortable and enjoying everything before he even considered himself. constantly praising you over degradation--though sex could still be rough and loud whenever you wanted the change. "you're so fuckin' pretty, keep those eyes on me, kay? just like that."
» frat!kuna who never said the words 'i love you,' not even to his family, they felt foreign on his tongue, his throat tightening around them, but looking at you, it only felt right. so he did, making sure he told you frequently, even if it was random. and he meant it each time.
» frat!kuna who didn't think about his future, not sure if he'd even be around by then with his past lifestyle. he hated children, the thought of having to bring another life into this world when he could barely take care of himself. yet found himself wondering what features they'd have, maybe your eyes and his nose? or those cute lips that make the most adorable pout when you're mad at him.
» frat!kuna who somehow found himself on one knee holding a diamond ring he worked his ass off for on your third anniversary, wanting to wait until you got your degrees to officially make you his, promising himself to you till death.
» frat!kuna who never truly changed who he was; he just became a better version of himself, one that could be worthy to be in your life. he was tired of being written off as the asshole or fuck up; he preferred being yours.
a/n: longer and angstier than i expected...
tags:@wifichann @sunnyfieldsz @satorusonlygirl @bowiesprettieststar2 @neotoru @b-bitter @tchmiya @lillylovestoji92 @v4mpyyb4tzz+ join or in the comments
ⓘ frat!kuna was far from your typical prince charming... | art by su2kuna on x
» frat!kuna who's the textbook definition of a walking red flag, the one's parents warned their daughters about before sending them off to college, the ones police knew on a first-name basis, & the one's every girl on campus raved about in their group chats.
» frat!kuna who's body was a field day for metal detectors, adorned in body jewelry ranging from facial to more daring ones hidden below the belt. he looked like he'd walked straight out of a 2000s teen movie, backpack slung over one broad shoulder, tattooed skin, baggy jeans and band tees he'd stolen from suguru.
» frat!kuna who had more assault charges and, ironically, hot mugshots from frat parties than one could count on hands; satoru and suguru were quick to intervene, toji laughed, choso winced, and nanami tsked like an unimpressed father. in sukuna's latest arrest, he attempted to convince the police his fist 'slipped' and somehow connected to naoya’s jaw. purely accidental.
» frat!kuna who's room in the frat house smelled of lingering teen spirit, weed from his new dealer, the musk of sex, and cologne to 'conceal it.' a forgotten bra from a blurry hookup last saturday swept under his bed, a pile of two-week-old laundry in his hamper, his walls covered with random band posters, warning signs, and magazines of half-naked girls.
» frat!kuna who spent most his days being a pain in the ass, getting high, fucking around, or practicing his boxing skills at the gym. he despised this cycle, though he believed it was all he'd ever amount to. hiding how smart he truly was, how he read psychology books because they genuinely intrigued him, or how the fog and rain seemed to capture his soul.
» frat!kuna who first saw you in a vinyl shop, and felt like he'd seen an angel that day. who knew angels listened to cigarettes after sex and paramore? he watched the way you hummed songs under your breath, jewelry jingled as you thumbed through the selections, greeted the cashier as if you were a regular--and suddenly the phrase, 'love at first sight' almost made sense.
» frat!kuna who found himself wanting to truly get to know you, not just get in your pants like any other girl. his red eyes searching for you around campus, trying to learn your schedule, watching the way you studied hard for exams in the library on quiet nights, or how you always sprinted toward your dorm when it was late, like you feared being chased--cute, he noted to never let you go alone again.
» frat!kuna who finally got your number, thanks to the help of choso, and asked you on an official date he meticulously planned, knowing you were more artsy. he ended up sounding like an idiot trying to form the right words and ryomen sukuna never fumbled around with girls, except you. those pretty eyes waiting patiently were almost too much for his hardened heart. "you and me...the museum downtown this friday?" "i mean...if you want. i'm not forcing you, i--fuck. ignore that. ignore me."
» frat!kuna who spent the entire duration of said date staring at you, the way you spoke, how you laughed quietly to yourself after your own jokes, and rolled your eyes at his with a small smile. the witty jabs you exchanged effortlessly, or the way you kept glancing back to make sure you weren't talking to yourself when he got silent. he found himself actually smiling when you were nerding out, effortlessly breaking down the backstories behind each piece. and that's when he truly knew he was fucked.
» frat!kuna who never cared for relationships or buying shit for girls, thinking it was for 'dorks.' yet let you splurge his card at the mall, waving you off whenever you tried to tell him you didn't need things he knew you wanted. he knew more about you than he did himself, he realized. smiling when you gushed over everything at the end of the night, giving him huge hauls, and sukuna entertained the entire thing, as if he didn't spend the money.
» frat!kuna who found himself being softer in his own way, didn't drive off before you got inside or let you open your own doors like he would've past girls. he kept his previous veil mouth to a tamer level whenever you were in proximity, and tried to focus on his studies so you wouldn't stress about him failing classes. staying up until midnight listening to you yap over the phone about random nonsense. "no, i wouldn't love you if you were a worm...gross." "but kuna--" "fine. i'd keep you in my pocket. happy??"
» frat!kuna who never claimed girls in the past, yet at every frat party or time you were both in public, he made sure to emphasize you were his girlfriend, hand glued to your hip, the small of your back, fingers twined, or guiding you around by the back of your head. all his frat brothers knew you were it for him, even if he wouldn't be caught dead telling them.
» frat!kuna who found himself venting to you about his childhood in moments when it was just the two of you, sprawled on his bed, his head in your lap, fingers in his hair. the words just slipping out, why he was such a dick, how it was a deflection--a way of rebelling for the way the world had treated him. if everyone already deemed him as unlovable, a failure, a product of his environment, and useless, why not prove them right?
» frat!kuna who started loving his birthday--not caring for them before; to him, it was just another day, only he was a year older. he didn't love them now because he cared about seeing another year, but because he got to spend another year with you. seeing your face light up when you brought him a cake you made, singing off-key and recording, that's the only wish he had--for this dream to never end.
» frat!kuna who sometimes pondered on how you were too good for him, too precious. you deserved better than him, someone without his past, someone who could worship your every breath. and yet, he wanted you anyway. selfishly. unconditionally.
» frat!kuna who treated sex like raw intimacy instead of a quick release with you. emotions over plain relief. taking his time with foreplay, actually going down on you, making sure you were comfortable and enjoying everything before he even considered himself. constantly praising you over degradation--though sex could still be rough and loud whenever you wanted the change. "you're so fuckin' pretty, keep those eyes on me, kay? just like that."
» frat!kuna who never said the words 'i love you,' not even to his family, they felt foreign on his tongue, his throat tightening around them, but looking at you, it only felt right. so he did, making sure he told you frequently, even if it was random. and he meant it each time.
» frat!kuna who didn't think about his future, not sure if he'd even be around by then with his past lifestyle. he hated children, the thought of having to bring another life into this world when he could barely take care of himself. yet found himself wondering what features they'd have, maybe your eyes and his nose? or those cute lips that make the most adorable pout when you're mad at him.
» frat!kuna who somehow found himself on one knee holding a diamond ring he worked his ass off for on your third anniversary, wanting to wait until you got your degrees to officially make you his, promising himself to you till death.
» frat!kuna who never truly changed who he was; he just became a better version of himself, one that could be worthy to be in your life. he was tired of being written off as the asshole or fuck up; he preferred being yours.
a/n: longer and angstier than i expected...
tags:@wifichann @sunnyfieldsz @satorusonlygirl @bowiesprettieststar2 @neotoru @b-bitter @tchmiya @lillylovestoji92 @v4mpyyb4tzz+ join or in the comments
