chuuyanakaharalegalwife

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

Corruption kink go brrrr

SEX OBSESSION. 𝜗𝜚

(´∀｀*)ε｀　) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Fyodor and Nikolai + Angel!Sub!Fem!Reader ➜cws: unprotected sex, use of lube, crying, praising, biting, corruption, creampie, double penetration, multiple rounds, fingering, nipple play, blowjob, hair pulling. ᡴꪫ‎

‎ ꒰ † ੭‎ For the event! + Fyodor calls you MIlaya(darling) n Nikolai calls you Myla moya(my dear) ヽ(´▽`)ノ

Curious. You were a very curious angel, oblivious too probably, believing that the world is just so good. For some reason, you met them, Fyodor and Nikolai, apparently from some group called ‘Decay of Angels’, what's that? No clue, but they seem quite nice.

And what were you doing right now? no clue either but you know that whatever they do makes you feel all warm and fuzzy. A sensation you've never felt, it feels so good that you're ready to do it anytime, anywhere. They tell you that it's something very close friends do. Angelic mind all corrupted, well can you blame them? you're just so cute when you beg for them to fuck you stupid!

All you remember is that fyodor was pent up and wanted to get some relief, Nikolai nodded away while giggling. I mean you were living here free of cost so it's only fair that you help your best friend relieve some stress, right? Maybe a movie night, or a game night–

So here you were, sucking Fyodor off while Nikolai worked on your pussy, thrusting two fingers inside you as he whispered sweet praises to your ears, “Such a good angel you are, Myla moya!” Nikolai purred while he was twisting and pinching your nipples, taking them in his mouth as he bit on them gently. Giving each bud equal attention.

Soft muffled gasps and moans left your lips, causing Fyodor to chuckle as he wiped the tears from your eyes, looking prettily at him through your lashes.

“Really, how sinful are you myshka? Aren't you supposed to be a divine being, hm?” He cooed, “God would definitely punish you for such sinful acts.” Earning a whine from you, he knows how devoted you are to the so-called God. More fun to tease you.

You could feel you were close, making your tummy all weird and hot. Fyodor grabs your hair, making you take more of him as he chases his own high, eyes closed as he mumbled something you couldn't focus on. You feel his cock twitch as he climaxes in your mouth, cursing, your eyes rolling back.

“You did a good job, MIlaya, now it's only fair that we return the favour, right?”

Your pussy coming around Nikolai's fingers. He pulled them out, licking up your juices, you were laying your head on Fyodor's thighs, all tired.

You could feel yourself being carried by Fyodor as he put you on the bed. Nikolai in front of your legs while Fyodor was behind you.

“Wait n-no, m’ too tired–” You managed to breathe out.

Well how did it feel being fucked by two cocks? you were absolutely disheveled. Sweat glistening from your forehead, arms wrapped around Nikolai as you bit down on his shoulder. You were so sensitive at this point, you don't remember what round this was but the only thing you could focus on is how good their cocks feel. Shoulders littered with love bites, fyodor played with your hardened nipples.

You were so sensitive, gasping at every movement. They both let out a grunt when they feels your gummy walls clench around them. You can't even let words out, just whimpers and moans.

“Shit, Myla moya, you're hurting me.” Nikolai whines, drawing slow circles on your puffy clit to soothe you. Your eyes all glossy, nail marks visible on Nikolai's shoulder alongside the bite marks you gave him to calm down.

After some time you feel both of them coming inside your holes, filling you up to the brim with their hot n sticky cum. Your stomach bulging a bit. The scent was so intoxicating as you three caught your breaths.

“MIlaya, let me run you a warm bath, you must be tired.” Fyodor let's out a chuckle at how sleepy you were, he caressed your cheeks.

He picked you up as he heard Nikolai pouting about how he also deserves to have that type of treatment too! “Not fairrr! Fedya, run me a bath too..”

Fyodor's lips curl into a smile as he nods and takes you to the bathroom, putting you in the bathtub, Nikolai joins soon after.

#bsd smut #fyodor smut #nikolai gogol smut

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

wrong person!…

(ft. levi, eren, armin, jean, & porco)

note: you send them a nude, you say wrong person, they get upset, but it’s a prank🫡 this one’s for anon

warnings: sexual, suggestive, cursing, dramatic men, f!reader

— levi

— eren

— armin

— jean

— porco

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

I've been thinking about Nanami as Mr.Darcy so I made this. I think I will draw some scenes from the 2005 version.

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

ᡣ𐭩 MID DAY NAPS WITH DAZAI!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai does not nap. he hardly sleeps in general. so how is it that he's dozing off in your lap like this? you're a witch, he's decided. there's no other logical explanation. (wordcount: 800ish; sfw; fem!reader, mentions of alcohol & sleeping pills)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: very short & sweet but i toldddd you guys that i had a dazai nap time drabble in the works. i love my naps, so that means i obviously have to do nap time with all of the favs. perhaps i'll do jouno next. or maybe there's someone u guys want.

Dazai doesn’t sleep well. He never has, and he’s certain he never will. The only time he can manage to get some semblance of sleep is when he’s taken a few too many sleeping pills or he’s drank himself to oblivion. It’s unfortunate, but it’s a fact of life, and he thinks that he’d prefer to stay sleepless anyway if it means he can avoid the memories that plague his dreams.

Dazai can simply not remember when the last time he willingly slept was, which is why he’s so confused now, head resting in your lap, eyes heavy as he looks up at you. He can hardly hold them open, he can feel himself falling asleep and he’s alarmed because he does not sleep unless his body is drugged, drunk or dying.

“What kind of spell have you placed on me, bella?” Dazai says through a yawn—he yawned???

“What do you mean?” you ask quietly, fingers still carding gently through his hair as you look down at him, brows furrowed. 

He wants to reach up and rub out the wrinkle between your eyebrows but his arm feels too heavy. A part of him wonders if he’s dying, but he supposes if this is how he’s meant to go out—laying in your lap with your fingers brushing through his hair, staring up at your pretty face beneath the afternoon sun—then he couldn’t ask for a better death.

“‘m falling asleep,” he murmurs, and his voice slurs a bit over the words. His eyes feel even heavier, drooping shut as he tilts his head to the side to make himself comfortable on your lap. 

You giggle lightly, and Dazai swears the sound is angelic. “‘cause you’re so sleepy, obviously,” you say, a teasing lilt to your tone as you bring your freehand to his face to trace his cheekbone.

“I don’t sleep,” he protests weakly, leaning into your touch. 

He thinks that before he met you, he might not have ever experienced a gentle touch in his entire life, and now he simply cannot go without them. He craves them at every waking moment and gets severely distressed when he cannot obtain them. But only if they’re from you—the thought of anyone else touching him the way you do makes his skin crawl. Your touches make him feel vulnerable in a way that’s dangerous, and you’re the only person he trusts enough to see him that way.

“Everyone sleeps, silly,” you disagree softly, and Dazai wants to protest, to tell you how significant this is, but he can’t find the words. His mind feels muddled and hazy as exhaustion creeps through his bones and claws at his chest.

He supposes he doesn’t really need to tell you anyway, you probably already know—you always know somehow. You can always figure out when he’s having one of his bad days, no matter how hard he tries to hide it from everyone. You can always tell when he needs a break from everything, even when he tries to mask it with smiles and jokes. You can always tell when he’s sick of playing the role of a clown to make people overlook all of his faults and darkness, and you’re always there to be an escape for him. 

It used to be scary—he’s never had someone that could pick through all of his masks to see through his emotional state, his real one. A part of him wonders if it’s somehow a secret part of your ability but he knows it’s a ridiculous thought, because there’s no explanation for how you can do it whenever he’s laid up in your arms or draped all over you, which is 99% of the time he’s with you.

It used to be scary (emphasis on the past tense) but now, he thinks it might be a bit comforting to know that you’re always there and you know what he needs even when he himself doesn’t know. You’re like a buoy in the middle of a raging sea, a lighthouse shining through the dark. he hasn’t had someone he could genuinely rely on in… a long time, and even then…

Dazai lets out a puff of air, eyes finally sliding shut as he all but melts into you with your hand cupping the side of his face and your thumb caressing his cheek and your nails gently scraping his scalp. He thinks he might be in heaven—he doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve it, to deserve you, but he’s a selfish bastard at heart and he’ll be damned if he ever lets you go. 

The last thing he feels is your lips ghosting his temple before he finally dozes off. He sleeps peacefully for the first time he can remember. 

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

★ I think Choso is obsessed with kissing ★

~~~

At first he thought the concept was a bit weird like alot of human things. You just... put your lips on someone else's...and hold it there????

 Yeah he was confused. But you were patient with him and from the moment you two had your first kiss the man was hooked. (I'm imagining like fireworks and stars in his eyes with a deep red blush like a comedy anime lmao) 

He's a bit clumsy at first, he's just eager and inexperienced. You can only find it cute, honestly. 

Even much later in the relationship, after he's gotten the hang of it and has settled into casual physical touch. Choso still has such an eagerness for kisses. Unlike sex which has a defined begining, climax and end. Kissing can go on forever, it doesn't have to ever end. Even a half curse like him gets tired and overstimulated eventually and while he obviously loves fucking you, he also loves the ease and casualness of kissing. 

The way he sees it, It still riles you up and allows you to express love and passion for eachother while not being as exhausting. 

When he wakes up? Lazy kisses. When you're making breakfast together? Playful kisses. Cuddling on the couch? Cozy steamy make out kisses. Good bye kisses, Hello kisses, Good morning kisses, Good night kisses, kisses in the shower, kisses in the kitchen, Eskimo kisses, butterfly kisses, cheek, forehead, nose kisses. This man is a fool for literally all of it. 

He loves the sweetness of a simple peck and he loves the spit slick mess of french kissing. He loves the feeling of your lips moving perfectly against his. He loves the feeling of your tongues sliding against each other.  

He loves that it could turn into more at any moment or it could just stay the same for as long as you both want. He loves when you run out of air and release from the kiss with breathy pants, your forehead resting against his. He loves when both of you kiss so much it makes your lips hurt but neither of you want to stop so you just end up rubbing your tongues together to keep the sweet friction going. 

He's so normal about your lips in general. He sees you apply lip stick, lip gloss or lip balm? Mans is already chubbed up. You lick your lips while eating? His mind is wandering right into the gutter. God forbid you pout or bite your lip in front of him. 

His eyes unconsciously go to your lips when you talk. He can't help it, he feels embarrassed if you point it out. 

Now because he holds kissing in such high regard, I don't think he likes kissing you in public that much. It's just such a personal thing for him that he feels weird doing it Infront of other people. That being said, you both have been caught mid make out session multiple times by multiple people. Even though he finds it embarrassing he can't deny you if you offer him a big wet kiss on the cheek. 

He absolutely LOVES kissing during sex. He just thinks it makes the already intimate moment even more intimate. When you're using your pretty mouth to suck him off he can't help but pull you off his dick so he can sloppily kiss you for a bit before letting you get back to it. Your lips just look so good around his dick. His love for kisses also extends to your lower lips btw. He looooves making out with your cunt and kissing up your thighs. Once he's already made you cum, he likes to place gentle kisses on your sensitive clit to watch you shake at the soft touch.

He makes sure that every time you two cum your mouths are also joined. That's why he likes positions where you're face to face so he can easily kiss you when you two cum together. Although he will make sure that even in positions like doggy or when your back is to his chest you will still get that intense messy kiss every climax. 

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

Synopsis: The first time Toji Says 'ily'(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Pairing: Toji x GN!Reader Content; smut nd Fluff, penetrative sex, soft!toji propaganda

MDNI

Toji was never a man who expressed his true feelings with words. Often trying to keep a stoic, unamused face whenever you’d talk to him. 

But when you stumble over your words- following them with a shy giggle. It always made the corner of Toji’s lip curl up in a small smile. 

Preferring to show his feelings in his actions rather than words.

At night when he would place his head on your chest- holding you close subconsciously.

Even with a firm spank on your ass with a small grunt- his way of telling you how good you looked.

Leading to you being the one who first said, ‘I love you.’ You had a suspicion he wouldn’t say the words back. Even if they were just words.

But he saw that you loved him long before you said them. How you’d hold his calloused hands in yours, gently kissing the rough tips of his fingers to show him that it was fine that they were rough. 

How insistent you were when kissing him—always making sure to kiss the little scar on his lip first. This was a small act Toji never knew he needed until you did it—“Reminds me that you’re strong,” you explained. 

He tried not to let it affect him, being so used to being treated rough and well set enough to not to be held with caution. But you always touched him like he was delicate—even if he wasn’t. 

Your hands hardly took on an aggressive grasp with him- always gently caressing his skin with your fingertips. 

That was part of why he fought with the infiltrating thoughts in his mind- how kind you could be to him.  

And Toji was never the kind to lie, especially about such a serious topic. So, instead of lying, he didn’t say them. 

Instead of saying those three words back to you, he would only offer a hum in return. Knowing if he said anything like ‘okay’ or ‘thanks,’ it would sound smug and heartless. 

Toji was aware he liked you—perhaps a smidge more than like—but he had just come to terms with saying he liked you. 

There were times when he would look at you and feel a slight tinge in his chest- almost like a shock of pain, but it was gone in an instant. 

He was aware of the feeling and what it meant, but he refused to even think about it, chalking it up to heartburn or a heart palpitation.

The revelation only snapped in his mind one late evening. 

Tired, hazy eyes looking at your face- one knee hooked on his forearm with your back flush against the bed. 

Kept a slow slopping pace with his hips- watching your expression churn with every deep roll of his hips he did. His mind was blank and focused on finishing so he could go to sleep. 

Heavily breathing and looking at your body- feeling his cheeks tingle knowing you were all his. That no one would ever be graced with seeing you this way. 

Throwing his head back, straightening his back, and closing his eyes. Warmth shivering down his spine as his lips moved without permission. 

‘I love you.’ he whispered. That’s all it took to start spilling himself inside of you with a breathy grunt. 

When the words registered in his mind, he snapped his head down to look at you- to see if you had heard him.

Only you were caught up in your own orgasm to hear his illegible confession. 

That night, Toji stayed up, thinking about whether he really meant the words he said or if they were just words.

Looking at you for a few seconds every time he heard you take a deep breath in your sleep. Pinched eyebrows in worry as he thought of the words he said. 

Pondering if he really loved you- 

The relationship started as just a one-night stand, not expecting to see you ever again. But out of the many- you were the only one who stuck around after. 

The one who managed to make him break his unamused farce- and actually managed to make him crack a small chuckle. 

No label was placed on what you had- Toji just knew you had come to love him. Scars, baggage, rough spots, and all. And Toji knew the possibility of loving you was very real. And scared for it to be.  

After that, he looked at you with a bordering on mortified expression- anytime you’d ask him something, fearing you were just cruel enough to pretend you didn’t hear him and tease him for it later. 

But you didn’t—you pretended not to notice that Toji looked at you differently now. He no longer saw a person he kind of liked. Toji looked at you with terrified eyes now, knowing he didn’t just kind of like you. He loved you. 

What Toji didn’t know was that you did hear his small proclamation. But knowing how standoffish he was when it came to feelings, you chose not to acknowledge it until he had the guts to repeat it. 

You could see how much it had plagued him thinking about it. 

Mornings where you’d leave for work and kiss him goodbye, “Love you-” you’d grin before leaving. Watching his lips part to say it back with tense shoulders. But he never said it- too afraid it would come out shy and embarrassed. 

One thing Toji did not want- is for you to look at him as shy or embarrassed. 

But on one night- making dinner and thralling your hands onto his shoulders. Looking up at him- sick and tired of him holding back his feelings.

Toji’s hands instinctively landed on your hips- looking at you with a raised brow. 

“You like me?” You murmured, caressing his nape with your thumb ever so slightly. 

He pouted his lip, trying to fight off the warmth rising to his cheeks. “I already told you I did,” he scoffed, watching your smile show your intentions. 

“How much though?” you pressed, eyes low and with a goal in mind. 

Toji rolled his eyes, giving you a light squeeze on your ass mindlessly- thinking it over. 

“Do you like me the way you like…” thinking of a non-filthy thing to say- “Gambling?” 

Toji scoffed- “Meh, you’re alright.” you parted your lips at his refusal to answer. Even more so because he said you were just ‘alright.’ 

You decided to abandon the topic for now, knowing that if you pressed even harder, he would keep making little sarcastic comments like that. 

Later that night, you were watching a show, sitting on the couch with Toji’s head on your lap. Playing with his hair with one hand and the other on his chest as you focused on the TV show. 

You were unaware of his eyes looking up at you- ignoring the action noises from the TV as you scoffed. 

Sucking your teeth before, “So fuckin’ stupid!” looking down at Toji, bewilderment in your expression. “They’re running this show into the ground.” you looked down at his face. Noticing his brow was unfurrowed, and his lips parted. 

Squinting your eyes with a feigned severity, “...What?” you mumbled, looking at his soft expression. Halting your hand movements.

Inhaling softly with gentle eyes, “I love you.” he murmured. A tone so soft you don’t think you had ever heard it from him. Widening his eyes when he realized what he had said. 

It felt as though the world went silent after you heard those words- looking into his eyes and feeling his heart beat quicker against your hand. 

“I love you too.” you whispered, cheeks warm and eyebrows pinched.

Though you wanted to jump up and down in happiness- ecstatic Toji was finally coming to terms with his feelings. 

All you did was press a kiss down to his lips- some assurance that you wouldn’t tease him for it. 

Leaning back up and continuing the soft movement with your hand, you looked back up at the TV, not even bothering to try to focus on what was happening. Too giddy from Toji’s confession.

Those words started being spoken more and more often now-

The goodbyes you’d bid Toji in the mornings before work, “Love you.” you’d mutter, pressing a kiss to his cheek and hearing a quiet-

“Love you.” he whispered back into the air in a gruff tone. 

Mornings sitting across from him, drinking coffee and basking in each other’s presence. 

Looking up from your phone and admiring his expression- “I love you.” you muttered. Watching Toji’s eyebrows furrow and look at you bewildered. 

He looked back down at his coffee cup. “Love you,” he muttered with a pouty lip.

And at night- His arms holding your knees wide. Deep thrusts paired with an occasional grunt in your ear. 

Your hands gripping his shoulders and biceps- moaning his name as his heavy breathing warmed your ear. 

“I love you.” he groaned against your cartilage- his thrusts were firmer and full of passion. Whimpering in response as he rode into an orgasm. 

And every deep roll of his hips- whispering the words repeatedly. One after the other in tandem with every loving thrust.

“I love you.” 

-

(a.n) got cavities from writing this

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

texting the jjk characters “they just left, you can come over now”

ʚ incl: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna, choso, shiu, higuruma, uraume, shoko, ino

ʚ cont: suggestiveness, crack, fluff

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

𝒟𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓂

Characters: Nikolai, Beast!Dazai

Warnings: N/A

- Chaos, lots of chaos you have to deal with daily

- He is also very energetic so he will talk to you quite a lot

- Loves cuddling, sometimes he cannot get your hands off of you

- Even if hes in the next room, hes using hia ability to grab your arm

- Very clingy if that wasn’t obvious already, Loves any sort of physical affection/PDA

- In a meeting with the DOA? Its okay Dove, you can sit on his lap while he talks about murdering half the population

- Fyodor might not trust you with this info but he’d just kill you if you betray Nikolai & the DOA

- Sigma would probably be fine with you at the meeting he just gets a little…flustered with how much nikolai’s hands are all over you while hes taking

- Just pray that Sigma or Fyodor won’t notice, or Fukuchi whenever they need to call him

- You guys most often go on Arcade dates or cafe dates

- Nikolai hates movie dates because hes just staring at the screen for a whole hour without doing anything, he can’t even cuddle you if you go to the theaded

- Whenever he gives gifts it includes chocolates and roses through magic tricks, his ability makes it easier to fool you too

- The luxury of life you live in

- Spoils you on shopping trips all the time, even if he could not attend he gives you his black card

- Either way, the employees know your dazai’s partner and if they make you pay, they’ll pay later

- Your not in the Port Mafia yet most people know who you are and you always visit dazai

- Once someone tried to shoot you thinking you were an intruder and there man was no where to be seen the next day

- Dazai loves when you visit him, especially during very important meetings

- Specifically with meetings you sit on his lap while he’s talking with high-status people and they all think you shouldn’t be here

- He usually comes back late at night so often times he crawls into your bed as your already asleep

- Work trips also might interfere with the about of time he can spend with you

- During these trips he sends you letters, photos, emails and much more

- A clingly black cat would best describe him during these times

- Beast!Dazai enjoys PDA to a certain extent, enough to make someone uncomfortable with you sitting on his lap, kissing his cheek gently

- But big actions of PDA like making out he perfers in a private setting

- Unless someone tried to steal you away, then he will gladly show them who you belong to

- His kisses in private are very possessive, like hes trying to prove he loves and owns you

- On that note, he gets extremely jealous which is why he lets the world know you are taken

- Dazai also has bodyguards by you at all times just in case, depending on the current state of the mafia the bodyguard could be an executive or a high ranking ability user

——————————————————————————

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

Ah, I am in loooove with all of your works... Can I request -spicy number 4- for my naughty boy Dazai plz? It can be ADA!Dazai or PM!Dazai, I will leave it to your imagination, hehe! Have a wonderful day, lots of kisses! <3

aww sure you can bb and thank you so much i'm really happy to hear that♡♡

4 — Teasing/touching them/you under the table during class a meeting

You truly were trying to pay attention to what president Fukuzawa was saying about your next mission, but it was so damn hard when Dazai was trailing his slender fingers along your inner thighs, pushing them slightly apart. He couldn't help it, not really, not when you looked so inviting in that pretty little skirt of yours– so short he could see a stripe of your skin where your thigh highs ended when you sat down.

Knowing how handsy your colleague could get, you figured you should've known better than to wear such a short skirt to work. But what's done is done, so now you had to endure just a few more minutes of Dazai's torturous teasing.

Of course, he had noticed the faint blush on your cheeks and the way you impatiently shuffled in your seat, your dreamy eyes darting towards the clock once every few moments. Oh yea, you were getting worked up over this and he was going to take full advantage of the remaining ten minutes of the meeting.

Dazai's fingers slipped under the hem of your skirt and brushed against the fabric of your panties. He could barely contain a sly grin when he felt the damp spot between your legs. It was rewarding, a great boost for his ego, knowing that he could get you soaked with just a few lingering touches.

"D-dazai" you huffed, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned closer to him. "Quit that"

But he paid no mind to your comment, instead starting to rub loose circles on your clit, looking at the corner of his eye at the way your face scrunched up in pleasure, your teeth nipping at your bottom lip.

Taking advantage of a spare moment when Fukuzawa moved to the other side of the table to talk to Ranpo, Dazai leaned closer with a devious grin stretching his lips and whispered in your ear "Why would I stop now when I have ten minutes left to make you cum on my fingers?"

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

would you save him?

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

friends with benefits w. shiu kong *ੈ✩‧₊˚

.nsfw.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who’s off as soon as you guys are done. the man is busy and got things to take care of— after you, of course

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who doesn’t even bother removing his clothes, he’ll lower his pants to fuck you, that’s about all you’re getting. might eventually come to remove his jacket.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who pounds you so hard against the wall, and light his cigarette five minutes later, like your insides haven’t just been destroyed.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who’s huge but modest so you’ll never see it coming.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who promised to avoid kisses or more intimate gestures during these sessions so that it stays strictly like he wants; nothing but sex.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who’s got a very stressful job and needs to forget about all of that for a few hours, and he’s able to do that with you. basically, it’s mostly to decompress after a hard and long day of work.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who seems cold and unbothered but you won’t notice his small gestures; like holding the back of your head so it doesn’t hurt against the wall, every time he enters. or the multiple looks he gives you to make sure you’re able to take it and aren’t hurting too much.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who likes to do it on the cold floor, on top of the counters and against the walls of your apartment. he’ll pick you up like you weigh nothing, manhandling you to the perfect position, wherever he pleases.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who loosens his tie, before leaning forward and caging you in a corner after a whole week without the taste of your pussy. he’s been missing you and it’s the first time he goes down without you asking.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who loves having at least one hand on your body at all times. he’ll run his hands along your skin, holding your waist, your hips, your neck, your thighs, your face..

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who was set on the idea to be fuck-buddies, but could not help but think about you while he worked, or hesitate to leave you in the morning.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who never allows himself to cum in your pretty pussy but loses all sense of self control after a ten hours shift of exhausting talks with selfless assholes.

˗ˏˋʚ you always think it’s the last time you’ll see him, but you open your door and a horny mess of a kong reappears in the doorway. fwb!shiu might never confess that he’s been thinking about you all day.

© shegetsburned 2024. Please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

Putting rotating dazai on your dash ⊹ ࣪ ˖

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

And again

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

ᡣ𐭩 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑!— GETO SUGURU

with the help of nanako and mimiko, geto suguru tries to be romantic on valentine’s day (spoiler: he fails!)

contents. teacher!geto x parent!reader, part two to this geto fic but can be read as a standalone, gojo is annoying but what’s new, f!reader

there's something strange in the air today.

it's not that suguru doesn’t ever have his off-days as a teacher, but between the sickly-sweet smell of sugar overfilling the classroom and the incessant chattering of his students, there's something different about this valentine's day.

“mr. geto, kugisaki cheated!”

it can't be because satoru’s class is here now, even if it does make it harder to concentrate on the activities, because satoru's class always comes in to make a mess out of his room during their elective time.

“itadori,” he fights the shiver that runs down his spine when he sees a handful of frosting flop pathetically onto the carpeted floor as the two children glare daggers at eachother, “you can't cheat at cookie decorating.”

“she did! we have to punish her!”

“absolutely not.”

“i didn't cheat, yuuji's a liar! we have to punish him!”

“absolutely not.”

it isn't because satoru went all out for valentine's activities this year either, which apparently left very little in the budget for the spring field trip because it really isn’t his problem whether or not satoru gets yelled at by the yaga (the principal dragged him out of the room not more than five minutes ago, probably to do just that).

“mr. geto! mr. geto!”

his ears perk up as he turns, finding mimiko and nanako staring up at him from across the classroom with massive grins on their faces.

there is absolutely something different in the air today: the dread of seeing you.

maybe dread isn't the right word for it—maybe anxiety or nervousness are more correct terms for what he feels, but the point is that every time he sees you, he ends up embarrassing himself. it's like he can't think when you stand too close to him, like all the knowledge he gained in college turns into a pink fluff when he catches a whiff of your perfume as you walk past him to hug your girls, like the nerves that connect his head to his mouth sever themselves to try (and fail) to save himself from his own clumsy words.

“mr. geto, are you staying behind later today?” mimiko beams up at him as he walks to the small corner they've claimed as their territory, bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet to the tips of her toes, her hands behind her back as she stares up at him in earnest.

“i should be, unless you’re both going home early today?” he kneels, moving to sit criss-cross apple sauce on the floor across from them; they look like they’re supposed to be playing some valentine's-day-themed bingo, but the card looks like it's been through hell and back and the candy markers are nowhere to be found.

“nope!” nanako practically has sparkles in her eyes as she leans forward, her smile growing wider, “do you have a present for mommy?”

…a present?

“…no? why would i?”

“because she said that people who like other people get each other presents for valentine’s day.” mimiko pouts innocently.

nanako nods rapidly in agreement with her sister as suguru immediately feels his heart stop at the fact, missing its next beat entirely and tripping over itself.

“girls, you can't say those kinds of things,” his eyebrows furrow as he tries to defend his honor, “our relationship isn���t like that.”

if he's being completely honest, he doesn't know what your relationship is, but he knows it's not as fleshed out as the fantasy the twins have in their minds (no matter how much he'd like it to be).

“mommy doesn’t like it when people beat around the bush!” nanako points an accusatory finger at her teacher, “she deserves better!”

his jaw goes slack at the vicious statement—he opens his mouth to try to defend himself for a second time, but someone new beats him to it.

“who deserves better?”

seven-year-old megumi stands at the same height as his shoulder, his spiky hair fluffing up as he tilts his head curiously to the side. his hands look like a crime scene of red frosting, and suguru stares in abject horror as the child maintains eye contact with him, licking the icing off his wrist as he stares.

“my mom.” nanako huffs, crossing her arms, “mr. geto is leading her on.”

“i am not—”

“mr. geto!” itadori gasps, popping out of fucking nowhere (suguru vaguely wonders if children might be superhuman now), “that's not nice!”

nobara materializes herself next to nanako and mimiko, glaring at him like he'd murdered you personally, “that is not how you treat a woman.”

“we’ll tell satoru,” megumi looks unusually vexed, and suguru's face falls at the mention of the man’s name, “he won't be very happy.”

satoru would be more than delighted at the situation thrusted upon himself, but no one bothers to correct megumi, so suguru is left to gape in shock as the five children hover over him, crossing their arms and waiting patiently for his answer.

“…i’ll get her a present.” he digs himself into his own hole, sighing in defeat as the five toddlers cheer in unison, jumping up and down as if they'd stormed the castle and slayed the evil dragon, and the rest of the class claps and whoops with them for no other reason than to be able to celebrate, happy to go along with the rest of the children.

it's during moments like these that he's reminded why he became a teacher in the first place, because even though the grins and laughs are at the expense of his humiliation and embarrassment, his heart still warms at the sight—as long as his students are happy, he sees no issue (he might be a little butthurt) being the joke itself.

he knows he doesn't have much to offer, but he thinks his kindness counts for something, something he hopes that people find value in. it's because of his kindness that he thinks he can make it through the next four hours of children running around rampant, after all—because yeah, yuuta trying to win his card game against mai for rika only to owe him 36 packs of bubble gum and counting is embarrassing, and todo accidentally making miwa cry is more than a handful, but honestly, he thinks that he would carry them all on his shoulders if he could.

it's only during their lunch break that he finds a moment of peace, with just barely enough time to clean up the sugar crusts and chip crumbs off of the tables, he finds himself leaning back on his chair, the ache in his shoulders melting against the leather as he closes his eyes.

and then, he turns his attention to you.

what would you like? during your parent-teacher conference, you mentioned cooking for your daughters, would you like new silverware?

“mr. geto, are you asleep?”

what could he feasibly get you after school ends? flowers? jewelry? those variety chocolate boxes?

“mr. geto, it's not a teacher's job to sleep, y'know?”

“it's also not a teacher's job to spend half of the school's budget on a valentine's day party, but you wouldn't know that, wouldn't you?”

“ouch! just say you hate me already!”

suguru opens his eyes, finding satoru sitting at the front desk, his legs crossed with an easygoing smile on his face. his coworker always does things like this—small jabs accompanied by uplifting smiles whenever he feels like the mood needs to lighten—the man wonders what you might say if you were here.

he closes his eyes again.

“hey!” satoru whines, ruffling through the pencil holder sitting on the table, throwing a spare pen in his direction, “i just got lectured for like an hour and a half, pay attention to me!”

“ow—” suguru hisses as the metal hits the bridge of his nose, scrambling to save his face and catch the pen simultaneously, “that was your fault!”

“are you saying love is useless?”

never.

“when you’re seven years old, maybe.” he snorts, thinking back to yuuta; the poor child ended up with more than 60 packs of gum in debt to mai, which probably could’ve slid if it were anybody but mai.

“whatever,” the white-haired man huffs, picking a piece of fluff from his collar, casually dodging the flying pen that clatters against the wall, “i have tea for you, wanna hear it?”

“do you feel your bones magically getting younger when you say that?”

satoru simply smiles, and suguru suddenly feels a shiver shoot up his spine.

“i heard this from megumi during their recess period, but apparently, nanako and mimiko were gossiping about how someone new was picking them up today. did you know anything about that?”

it’s 4:30 pm when suguru finishes your present.

it’s not like nanako and mimiko are much help, not with them currently getting a toy shark to chomp a sad ken doll’s legs off, sound effects and all—it seemed like no matter how much he tried interrogating the two about who was supposed to pick them up, they kept their lips shut (much to his dismay), simply insisting that he finish his present to you.

and who is he to argue with his students? clearly, the two seven-year-olds know better than a man pushing his thirties.

but he digresses, after what seemed like the longest day at school for a while, he’s finally reaching the end. he’s so engrossed in the day ending, in fact, that he almost forgets about the small predicament until the door slides open.

he’s halfway to making barbie fight off a lego dragon when he hears the sound of the door opening, his eyes casually flitting up to someone who’s not you. the man has dirty-blonde hair, slicked back to accentuate his strong cheekbones and square jawline—his tan suit is ironed to perfection, his leopard-print tie somehow working with the turquoise dress shirt—but the most egregious thing is the fact that nanako immediately abandons her soldiers to run to him.

“ken-ken!”

“daddy!”

suguru’s jaw drops as mimiko bounds up to the man (all while dropping her mage doll), latching up to his suit jacket.

…daddy? who? hello?

“mimiko,” the man gently brushes her pawing fingers off of his jacket, with a soft yet stern look, “you can't call me that.”

that's right, mimiko, he’s not your father. he's too ugly.

he's not, he's quite handsome actually, but that doesn't stop geto from crossing his arms, his eyes narrowing at the man in front of him—in fact, he's so laser-focused on the salaryman that he barely notices nanako and mimiko exchange glances, completely unable to hide their mischievous grins.

“sorry about them, they don't usually act like this,” the man looks as embarrassed as a heartless stockbroker could look with two children clinging to his pants like it's their lifeline (he ends up just looking aloof and unassuming), “their mother sent me to pick them up. you must be mr. geto, their teacher?”

"i am," he nods slowly, starstruck in his presence, "and you are?"

“kento nanami, a coworker." the man smiles flippantly, an easygoing curve playing on his lips as if he can see geto's exact thought process.

is this who i’m up against? could i even beat him if i tried?

“nanako? mimiko?” his eyes flit to the two girls, keeping his safety protocol in mind, “do you know this man?”

“’course we do!” mimiko barely turns her head to him, opting to stare up at the blonde-haired man with puppy eyes instead, “we love nanamin!”

"he was hanging out with us all night long yesterday!" nanako cuts in excitedly, exaggerating her words, "he stayed late and cooked dinner! mommy and him were—"

"—were working on a project." he says sternly, placing a hand on nanako's head and ruffling her blonde hair. she gasps in both surprise and betrayal, immediately moving her chubby fingers to fix the cowlick that created itself from her bangs as the man gazes at him with kind monolids, "their mother wouldn't stop talking about you last night, so i can imagine that i'll be seeing you more in the future?"

"…yeah—"geto clears his throat, his face warm at the mention of your name. you were talking about him? what were you saying? "yeah—yeah, man. sounds good."

he visibly cringes at his own words, and the stockbroker can barely manage an awkward smile.

“bye-bye, mr. geto!” nanako innocently grabs onto nanami’s fingers, seemingly tired of listening to the two adults and using all of her weight (which isn’t much) to drag him towards the door as possible, “we’ll see you tomorrow! stay strong!”

suguru decides to ignore nanako's strange phrases, and when nanami leaves, he slams his head against the whiteboard.

“i’m so sorry—”

it’s funny how everything reminds him of your first meeting, even just hearing those words come out of your lips again takes him back to that fateful day, with the sun peeking through the blinds, and his heart at your feet.

the setting is different now, though, you aren’t meeting in his classroom, but the school parking lot. the sun is slowly setting on the horizon, painting the sky with reds and purples, the apparent lack of cars only echoing how intimately alone you are. you lean back on your car, your head hung low in embarrassment.

“i don’t mind,” he smiles, “it really was no problem.”

“i feel like i should make it up to you, i feel awful for making you stay late—this is what i was trying to avoid in the first place.” you bite your lip, looking nervously at the pavement.

“it’s not your fault nanako forgot her bag,” he shakes his head, “i should’ve noticed when she left.”

“well that’s not—”

“see, it doesn’t work when i do it, so it doesn’t work when you do it. if i really wanted to get home early, i would’ve.”

you let out a small laugh, and yet, it’s still enough to make his heart flutter. nanako’s backpack that she coincidentally left behind now sits safely in your car, meaning there really is no reason you need to be here right now.

“so…nanami, huh?” he segways the best he can, sticking his hands in his pockets awkwardly, “he’s a cool guy.”

you laugh again, enough to show your teeth this time. “he is a cool guy,” you nod along, “his partner is very lucky to have him.”

thank god. suguru feels the weight of a thousand worlds lift off of him.

“oh, um—” his face brightens, and he fumbles with his pockets, pulling out a small card from his coatpocket, “here, i got you something.”

you accept it happily, your fingers brushing against the palm of his hand as he gives you the cardstock, the smile on your face only growing wider as you open it. there are pictures of your daughters littered all over the two pages, messily glued on (he never claimed to be an artist) with corners untidily cut to have them all fit—there’s hardly any space left open in the makeshift scrapbook other than the very top right corner, in which you can make out a messy, crude font scrawled on, smeared with the pen and glue.

happy valentine’s day. <3

“i got the yearbook team to let me access their pictures,” he’s bashful of his work, a pink hue appearing all over his face, “there are even some from today in there.”

you can tell—the heart-shaped cookies that mimiko chomps on near the middle must’ve been from the party they were so excited about today, as well as nanako with a horrified expression as a blur of yuuji attacks a donut hanging from a string like an animal.

“thank you,” a warmth spreads in your chest; you feel a twinge of heat burn at your ears, and you let out a half-whine, “god, i feel worse now! the girls told me that you liked people being straightforward or whatever and that i should get a gift for you, but i didn’t, because i didn’t think that we’d be meeting today and—”

“hey, it’s fine, don’t worry!” he raises his hands in some sort of defense, “i don’t mind. gifts aren’t supposed to be transactional, you can do something else if you wanna repay me.”

there’s a beat of silence as he realizes how that could be interpreted, and he immediately retracts his statement, flustered and stumbling over his words, “you can do anything else, i’m so sorry—anything you want! you don’t even—god, i—”

he shuts up before he digs himself into a deeper hole, his entire body burning with embarrassment.

you stay silent for a moment, and there’s a second where he thinks you might leave right then and there, but you laugh.

“that was the funniest freudian slip i’ve ever seen in my life!" you cover up your soft giggles with the palm of your hand in an attempt to stifle them.

for a second, it's just you, him, and the parking lot—giggling over a stupid joke that a teenager in high school might make.

you shift ever so slightly though, just enough that you’re closer to him than you were before, the smile still apparent on your face (though it has a more mischievous look to it now), “you want me to do something else? like what?”

“oh my god, just kill me.” he groans jokingly as you shift again, placing the card on the hood and no longer leaning on your car. you tilt your head, experimentally poking his shoulder.

are you being forward right now? is he reading too much into it? have you always been this forward?

“i’d like to kiss you, if you'd like, of course.” you confirm his suspicions, trying to catch his eye, “as a valentine’s day gift.”

who does he need to thank for waking up cupid and shooting you with an arrow?

“i think you have a habit of saying your thoughts out loud when you’re nervous,” you laugh again, the smile ever so present on your face, “you shot me with the arrow, by the way. you can go ahead and thank yourself.”

thank you, suguru.

“…is this okay?” you glance up at him, your hand near the nape of his neck, your thumb resting at his collarbone.

yes. of course.

he manages a nod, and you slowly lean up on your tiptoes (leaning onto him, he realizes), still staring into his soul.

“i’m gonna warn you right now, i’m incredibly out of practice.” he feels the need to say something, anything as your lips near his, barely touching them.

you don’t respond, as if you're having second thoughts—like you need a small push to get there. you've never been the type of person to wait for other people, though, so you exhale, your soft breaths hitting his lips, your eyes wearily checking for his.

and then you kiss him.

you don’t feel like liquid fire to him; kissing you isn’t like fireworks that explode in his brain or lava that burns his skin, no, the adrenaline that rushes through his veins makes him feel warm.

you make him feel warm—warmth not fervid enough to go up in smoke like it did during his college days, but strong enough to smolder and crackle, a slow heat that intensifies in his body as his hand teases at the back of your neck. it’s like every touch sends more and more heat into his body, but it never burns, because you’d never burn him, and he’d never burn for you.

(although if he did, he can imagine that it’d be worth it.)

you disconnect your lips from his, a satisfied look on your face when you slowly prod his body off of you. your tone is sultry but lighthearted, a teasing tone entering your voice as you poke his nose, “you don’t seem very out of practice to me.”

with that, you walk to the other side of the car, a giddy expression on your face.

“hey, would you like to go on a date with me sometime?” he blurts, calling out to you as you open the car door.

you look up, gracing him with your smile once more. “sure, just call me!”

and before he has a chance to say anything, you get in, you wave him a happy goodbye, and you drive out of the parking lot.

operation: matchmaker—success!

suguru’s phone buzzes in his coat pocket—his fingers brush against a piece of paper, but he ignores it, opening his phone to find a single text message.

gogo satoru: GET SOMEEEE

his head whirls around, only to see satoru standing at the window of his classroom, the blue glass unable to hide the shit-eating grin on his face.

another buzz.

gogo satoru: 😼👉👌

geto suguwu: kill yourself.

he reaches into his pocket again, only to pull out the piece of paper this time, with ten simple digits on it, and he laughs incredulously.

(at this point, you might be just as cunning as your daughters.)

the man opens a new chat on his phone, and he begins typing.

mannn 😭😭sometimes i feel so good abt fics… and other times… 😭😭 never setting a deadline for myself ever again

i dont think theres any feasible way two seven-year-olds could cook this plan up but its for the plot so 😞

I FORGOT TO TAG IM SO SORRY AHAHA: @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat, @ughhmenna, @softgirlgonehaywire mb guys...

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

biker!suguru who looks pretty intimidating with that big helmet that covers his face, but will take advantage of red lights to make the children in the cars around him laugh. moving his hands, changing his seat, lying on the motorcycle; anything works when he sees them smiling and waving at him when the traffic starts again.

biker!suguru who's full of tattoos under all the riding clothes. they're tiny, like fine stickers on his body, but you could spend whole afternoons finding each one of them, and he'll gladly tell you what do they mean.

biker!suguru who refuses to let you get off the bike by yourself. if he opens the car door for you and offers a hand so you can comfortably get off, why wouldn't he do the same on the bike?

biker!suguru who accompanies you to buy clothes and equipment for riding. he has been on it for years and he knows the best brands, the best options and the more secure ones. he'll make sure to pay for them, even if they're expensive, as long as you're comfortable and protected from any injury.

biker!suguru who takes you everywhere. you have a meeting? he takes the bike. you're craving your favorite ice cream at night? you'll go quicker in the bike. why would you go walking if he loves to take you anywhere?

biker!suguru who's not bothered by the rain at all. he would ride anyway, with drops falling on his visor and sticking to his exposed neck. he would even unzip his riding jacket and let the rain wet his t-shirt. it makes him feel alive. (and later, sick.)

biker!suguru who doesn't like you sitting by yourself so makes it impossible for you, moving the bike and going back and forth, laughing and receiving your little slaps on his shoulders until you let him sit you (or he lets you sit)

biker!suguru who holds your hand when driving straight, taking it between his gloved fingers, cutely caressing and taking it to his helmet as if he was kissing it.

biker!suguru who helps you to put and take off the helmet the first times you ride, being his smile the last thing you see when closing your eyes to put it on and being his lips pressed on yours the first thing you feel when taking it off.

biker!suguru who doesn't doubt to show you how to ride when you ask him. he takes you on a couple lessons outside, quietly and calmly ordering you what to do. he trusts you enough to backpack you (but you don't trust your freshly aquired habilities with such a man behind)

biker!suguru who never arrives from a ride late. he'll always find you awake, and he doesn't want to let you go to sleep alone. he'll always make it safely on time.

biker!suguru who loves to mess with you, while riding and once done. he'll take your visor up, he'll put your hands inside his t-shirt, he'll give little taps on top of your helmet.

biker!suguru who craves shoulder massages on sunday afternoons after all the week riding and working. you'll gladly give him some, and he'll make sure to payback with cuddles (or rides.)

biker!suguru who lets all the kids try his helmet while he waits for you to exit work/uni. you'll just find the most random situations while getting closer to your boyfriend, such as a kid having trouble with the helmet's weight or another one unable to see due to puting it wrong.

biker!suguru who looks so good unzipping his riding suit and taking off the helmet you can only think of seein that exact image every evening of your life

part one here ✨

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

are you there god?

Hi I was just wondering if I could request headcannons for father figure bf!Suguru? Thank you so much I love your writing🩷🩷

hi so sorry for responding late . . . i hope you are well ! but ofc i cane give u littl headcannons some of based off of things i think he does ( ovbi ) and some are what i interpreted from da show & manga !

its supa short bc im swleepy bc its 3:30 am exactly nd i haven’t taken a nap at all.

( side note : i miss my puppy girl agenda so dis will b da first thing of my return to be fulfilled of puppy girl )

. father figure!bf suguru who wraps you in his arms when you are feeling uneasy with anxiety.

. father figure!bf suguru who buys you milk bread everyday at your favorite bakery on his way to pick you up from whatever college after activity you have going on for that week.

. father figure!bf suguru is very attentive, the first thing he noticed about you when you two first met is that you walk with a littl bounce

. father figure!bf suguru doesn’t care or particularly mind that you cling to him like a needy puppy begging for attention. he finds it cute how you rely on him for anything.

. father figure!bf suguru who hates the word “goodbye.” he always corrects you when you’re stepping out the car to head into your morning class. “hey. wait, what do we say?” he cocks his head to the side, you try arguing that you’ll be late, but he doesn’t let up. you sigh in defeat and mumble out a quick “ see you later, i love you. “ quickly slamming the door, you rush to your class before you could hear his response “i love you too. you look beautiful”

. father figure!bf suguru who gives you you a baby pink collar engraved with “ if found return to geto suguru “ on one of the sliver tags dangling from the key ring.

. father figure!bf suguru who starts calling you pup more often. he’s well aware that you love the petname he has adopted into his vocabulary. — he likes it also.

. father figure!bf suguru is never mean to you;not intentionally you think? but when he is, it make your brain a bit hazy.

. father figure!bf suguru doesn’t like brats or liars which you happen to be both. of course you never tell major lies at least that’s what you think but your partner would disagree. — you told a small white lie about how you had no clue how a big wine stain got on the couch and suggested that his friends did it. geto knew who had done it, but you don’t know that he is aware of it. he just want you to confess.

. father figure!bf suguru punishments hurt; alot. you aren’t use to the heavier ones, only a few taps on your bottom to bounce you back from being disruptive but they’re never like this. — ass cheeks are warm accompanied by a slight tint of red due to the pressure of his big palms, you can feel the welts starting to form. “restart over. you stop again, i will leave you here with a vibrator tied to your leg, do i make myself clear?” his voice is rough and firm. “y-yes sorry. m-sorry”

. father figure!bf suguru the after care is what makes you fall in love with him all over again. — after his corrective actions, you and him are embraced into each other for awhile, as he draws circles on your back while rocking you back and forth to bring you back down. “my sweet girl, you did so good. always know how to take your punishment well.” he coos, you look at him with big doe eyes, suguru thinks for a moment; you are a real puppy who has reincarnated into a 20 year old girls body.

. father figure!bf suguru regardless of his mistakes in the past before you became his light at the end of a dark tunnel, he make a secret promise to whatever god existed that he would do whatever it takes to heal from his past in order to keep you around for the rest of his life.

#geto suguru

[chuuyanakaharalegalwife]

R/trueoffmychest the guy I lost my virginity to is stalking me — Geto Suguru

Synopsis: tldr a few weeks after my 2(x) birthday, I lost my virginity to this guy in the showers of this hot spring I got a gift card to as a birthday present. Well, it turns out he was depressed, and now he thinks my (in his words) pretty pussy is the best antidepressant.

— disclaimer (mdni, +18, oral m!receiving, virginity loss, size difference, public shower sex, religious imagery and referencing, cringey euphemisms, exhibitionism hints, dubcon ish cumming inside with permission, strangers to lovers maybe depends on if you count obsession & stalking as loving<3)

Steam rising from the milky blue waters, a sigh escaping your lips at the ways your muscles relax, looking down at the way your body disappears until the water pools around your cleavage. Your best friend bought you this overpriced gift card at this traditional onsen. Although beautiful, you can't deny the discomfort that creeps up your spine at having to be bare to soak within the waters. Fortunately, you managed to find a somewhat hidden area, albeit you can still hear the hush whispers not too far away, but it was an improvement from other areas.

At first, your skin tingles and prickles everywhere the mineral-rich water touches before your body slowly acclimates to the temperature the way you can feel all the tension releasing from your muscles, almost forgetting about the mission you set for yourself this year. You almost couldn't believe a year had gone by until you got to your birthday and realized there was no one there to light your candles in celebration with you, another year of painfully inching through your twenties with that problem between your soft thighs — your virginity. At some point, you started lying to your friends about having lost it, just sitting there and dumbly nodding along as they talk about their crazy sex adventures like you've gone through the same thing, all the while your poor virgin cunt was throbbing around nothing at hearing your friend’s story of being bent over her ex's car and railed in some parking lot.

The sounds of water ripples and the feeling of a small current lapping at your collarbone disturb your thoughts, and your head instinctively tilts towards the sound. Every inch of the man's body is chiselled to precision, muscles looking like some Greek sculptor carved them out. Catching from the male's Apollo's belt and upwards, from the sharp jawline to the soft lips to the slope of his nose to the dark feline eyes to the scrunch of his brows to the bun in his hair . . You catch the reflection of your wide eyes in the water when you force yourself to look away, fearing being caught.

This man . . he's the one.

— or at least, that's what you told yourself. You've achieved step number one of finding your virginity stealer, but this next step is going to be the part you struggle with most, losing it.

There's no denying the unease that settles into the pit of your belly when you will your gaze toward his direction where he sits in the water, elbows extending from his broad shoulders and head resting back against the rocks that line the natural edges. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, jaw so sharp you wonder if it's clenching from whatever tension has settled into muscles he is trying to work out in the calming waters. His hair is primarily kempt within a bun, with the exception of the dark tendril that frames the side of his face. The way the perspiration clings to his skin creates a sheen that accentuates every curve and contour. His eyes are deep pools of midnight, but something in them appears dull . .

. . Oh fuck, his eyes.

It's too late to look away; you're already caught gawking at him for heaven only knows how long. Your body shuts down before your brain, your mind screaming to look away, or even better, leave. That sounds like the best option, leave and never look back.

The man tilts his head. He looks mean, or maybe you're just intimidated by men. Real men. Real men you can touch, run your soft palms along the landscape of solid muscles from their pecks to their abdomen. You watch in horror as he pushes off his elbows towards your direction, heart sinking to the tips of your pedicured toes. Mortified, you manage to finally tear your eyes away. An apology springs to your lips, but you never have the chance to fully conceptualize it before the deep melody wraps itself around your eardrums and sends shivers down your spine, "hey."

That's it?

You're wondering if you misheard him until you gather the courage to look back towards him. Now that he's close, the fog no longer obscures your vision, allowing you to see him clearly. His soft lips are drawn in a grim line, eyebrows slightly pinched. His jaw takes on a tension that makes his teeth unconsciously grit. His body doesn't seem to have an ounce of fat, making you wonder what he must be eating to maintain his muscled physique. Swallowing the thick dryness in your throat, you find your voice, "hey."

Water cascades over from the crown of your head to your shoulders, down the soft curves of your body. His hand is flat against the tile wall of the empty shower, head tilting down to look at you. Your neck strains back to look at him in compensation for the height difference, clammy hands resting upon his shoulders when your lips part from the kiss. The room's empty, but for how long, you're unsure of. It only worsens the way your paranoid thoughts spiral. Every tiny sound makes you jump and try to peer around his big body to ensure no one is entering the public washroom of the onsen.

"We don't have to do this if you're too scared," the male, who you know now as Suguru, whispers, beneath the underlying fatigue that runs naturally through his voice lies an intimacy. His thumb drags along your cheek, cupping the side of your face to subtly prevent your stare from escaping his at every little sound. Suguru finds the way you look at him like a little bunny staring into the slack mandible of a rapacious wolf so endearing. It makes him feel something, albeit dull, curl inside his gut that he hasn't felt in years since the extermination of Riko Amanai. He wants to say that feeling's akin to the sense of comradery he felt going on missions with Satoru. Still, it's been so long that he forgot exactly what it feels like.

"No," you're quick to reply, eyebrows jumping with concern that he may pull away. You're already bare, so close to losing your virginity. If you had to wait this long to lose it to a guy as good-looking as him, you would wait all over again, but there is no way in hell you'll let anything ruin your chance this time. It's not exactly any better that you didn't bother mentioning you're a virgin for fear he would opt out, making your voice coy when you speak again, "I want it, Suguru."

Suguru's not one to deny a pretty thing, precisely one so anxious and unsure of themselves as you. There is one thing you're confident of that he knows for sure, and it's that you want your guts stirred. It almost makes a smile flit across his mouth.

"Turn around, pretty girl," his voice is low and stern, making you want to bend and succumb to his every will. Your eyes bore into the blue tile in front of you, hands planting firmly against them with the slight arch of your ass towards him. He's so much taller that you almost wonder if it'd be easier to just lay on the ground like dogs, but you feel his biceps flex when his arms wrap around you, and your mind goes blank.

You almost choke on your own spit when you feel his engorged tip prodding your entrance, making you regret being too scared to look down at his size before agreeing to this. Perhaps, if he knew you better, if this wasn't an instance where he would most likely never see your pretty face again, then he would've eaten you out to prep you better. Suguru pecks a wet kiss against your shoulder in a wordless apology, holding your waist in his large hands when he looks down to watch his length sink in. A hiss sounds through his lips when his tip breaks through the threshold, "shit . . only a little way in, and your pussy's gripping me . . so damn tight."

He’s fucking huge, feeling so much bigger than you would’ve imagined. It feels like you’re being splintered through into two pieces. The space between your eyebrows disappearing from the tight scrunch of them drawing inwards, jaw slacked open as he forces his girth into the tight cavern of your virgin cunt.

You’re so focused on the splitting pain that you have no sense of what’s occurring with the person behind you. Suguru’s body is detaching from his overactive mind, his eyes wide on the sight of his cock slowly forcing its way through the walls of your pussy. His heart thudding inside his ears, all his blood rushing to his growing cock, throbbing with each inch deeper inside what he can only describe as holy. God is speaking to him through your pussy.

“Is it in all the way,” your sputtering voice, a pitch higher and breathless, barely manages to bring him back to his senses, reminding him that you’re an actual human and not some idol to be worshipped. “Yeah . . Yeah, it’s in,” he tells you through gritted teeth, unaware of how his jaw is clenched so tight the tendons twitch. Nothing matters to him anymore in this moment that you and your cunt. This is the universe, or whatever may exist out there, answering the desperate calls from him late in the night. Heaven.

It hurts, but you’re not going to tell him that — no, you’ve already decided there’s no going back at this point. You’re seeking comfort in the arms that console you, keeping you on the tippiest tops of your pedicured toes while he’s bent in the knees behind you. Relief finds you when he slowly pulls himself out, a slap ringing against the sound of the shower pelting your bodies, eliciting a yelp from you. Something’s growing inside him, something carnal derived from the overwhelming feeling of love that he swears is blooming.

“Suguru,” you’re gasping out, the water washing away the copious amounts of slick seeping from your heat, making each thrust just a bit more unbearable. Your core hurts, but fuck, you think you like it. You must, that’s the only thing that can explain your eyes rolling back. He’s so big, he can get the perfect view of your face from behind, freeing a hand to brush some hair from the side of your face to see the way it morphs.

“You feel like . . like a fuckin’ virgin, baby,” Suguru grunts, face scrunched up like he’s angry, or maybe shocked, but your vision is too bleary and you have to keep blinking away the water droplets to tell. He doesn’t know how true that statement is. All the pretty sounds he’s certain that he’s pulling from you are choked at the back of your mouth, forcing their way out in adorable little squeaks when the pain starts to shift to pleasure.

This is what sex is like?

You’re almost sad for having not experienced it until now, but at the same time, you don’t really mind it since you’re being fucked by someone akin to a religious diety. The muscles in your neck strain from how you're forcing your head back to look at him, bodies slippery and squeak against each other. Obsidian locks fall down around his face, small black irises poking out to bore into your expressions.

“Deep, pretty girl,” he’s questioning through a seemingly pitiful murmur, keeping one arm locked around your waist to keep you stable while a large hand roams over the plush of your breast, groping one before dividing equal attention to the other. It feels like his hands are everywhere, overwhelming all of your senses. Through your inability to form words, you manage to whine with a nod. He’s not going to torture you by making you speak, not when your pussy is flooding his brain with dopamaine.

“S’ okay,” he hisses, thumb and index pinching a nipple to pull, only satisfied when he receives a cry from your puffy lips, “I know s’ deep.”

Every thrust is a slow draw back, only for a hard thrust inside that makes you feel like you’re going through the motions of that first big stretch all over again. Your hands dangle limply in the air, having slipped from the blue tile wall too many times, but he’s got you, or at least you’re relying on him to catch you if you fall. He’s fucking you dumb. “Can’t fucking believe this is what non-sorcerer pussy feels like,” or something along those lines is uttered from the man as if going through an life changing revelation, but you don’t know if you care enough to make it out.

“What,” is a thoughtless murmur to pry further about what the fuck he’s talking about, but all your mind cares about is how good you feel, the feeling of his lips smearing kisses along the back slope of your neck, feeling his deep breaths through his nose.

“Shh,” is all you're met with, and that’s what you do. The fear of being walked in on is long forgotten by this point, and each time it starts to creep back into your subconscious, a roll of his hips to bury himself to the hilt to the point you’re certain he’s reaching your belly makes any thought dispel from your head.

“Needed this just as much as I did, didn’t you,” Suguru’s muttering, all rhetorical questions, because he can tell from the way your beautiful face is morphing that there probably isn’t a single coherent thought in your mind. It’s not like he’s all there either, but he doesn’t know that him thinking that the universe is responsible for bringing your pussy to him isn’t logical. “Knew it the minute I caught you lookin’ at me. Needy fucking thing,” he’s rambling now, only furthered by the way he feels your pussy clenching around him, “fuuuucccckkkkk.”

“Sugu,” is all you can manage to form, unsure if it’s water running down your face or your own tears, too fucked to even tell if your crying. Your mind is drawn empty by the pad of his middle finger sinking down your center to draw taut circles on your throbbing clit. He’s definitely holding you up at this point, there’s no way your spasming legs can be keeping you stable.

“Don’t need to say a thing, baby,” thank fuck Suguru’s a special grade, because the plausibility that someone’s able to feel as good as he does and hold you in the air doesn’t seem so likely, “know you’re close to cummin’, like your body was fucking made for me.”

— & At this point, you’re starting to think that perhaps it is made for him. Well, at least, you want so badly for it to be.

The warm knot that was tightening inside of your belly was beginning to draw taut. Each individual weave of the rope snaps the closer you are. Your rheumy eyes are unable to focus on the man whose face you desperately want to see as you cum, but it hits you before you know it. Hot white flashes through your body.

“Cum on me, baby,” Suguru’s words somehow manages to make its way through your foggy brain, along with the sounds of skin clapping loudly through the pelting of water along the tiles, “never had a prettier fuckin’ girl than you on my dick.”

“Fuck, how can you get this much fuckin’ tighter,” Suguru grunts, making the ramblings of a man of faith kneeling before an all-seeing power. Every thrust of his cock inside you sends another wave of earthshaking pleasure through you until your melodies become sobs. He’s fucking you like he’s trying to dig something out of you, perhaps your self-respect, but you lost it all the moment you met his eyes in the hot spring.

Suguru does dig it out of you in the form of a wet release that he feels wetting his adept fingers twirling your puffy clit. What easily could’ve been dismissed as just water from the shower is quickly brushed off by the sound that comes from deep within your core and out those pretty lips. “Hey, hey,” Suguru’s voice brings you back to your senses, “eyes on me, pretty baby.”

Everything in your body wants to yell at him for making such an indelicate request like he wasn’t making you forget how to speak. Your legs feel numb, but so does the rest of your body. His fingers slip into your mouth to silence your cries, “shh, shh, shh, babygirl, you’ve gotta be quiet for me.”

Your tired limbs succumbs to his tender manhandling, arms swaying limply in the air following each slap his solid abdomen into the flush swell of your ass that ripples with the water droplets from impact. All your faith is in Suguru’s strong arm wrapped around the small of your waist to keep you from collapsing. Spit drags over your chin when his fingers slip from your lips, a large hand taking a firm hold of your neck to keep your head tilted back for him.

He takes the opportunity when your lips part in a cry at the overstimulation to slip his tongue into your mouth, groaning at the way your lips subconsciously latch around to suck on his, “want to keep you forever, princess.”

Suguru sees heaven when he’s cumming. The steam of the simmering water are the parting clouds of heaven as he’s spilling his seed inside an angel. That’s what you were to him — Godsent. Suguru’s hips still into yours, pressing himself deep inside as you moan into each other’s mouths, letting you feel the warm ripples of thick cum shooting into your cunt. He doesn’t even need to see it to know he’s cum the most he has in a long time, and he’s so annoyingly sweet about cumming inside without your permission too.

He’s not a monster, can’t be when you have the pussy of an angel. That’s why he’s careful when pulling out of you, the hand on your neck shifting to grip the underside of a thigh, lifting it up to let his cum spill out of you. “Hm,” whines between your pursing lips, tucking your face into his neck to hide the rosy hue flourishing on the peaks of your cheeks to which he responds with a deep chuckle and a peck to your forehead.

Not much is spoken between either of you as he assists you in drying off, before taking care of himself while you slip back into your clothes. You have to fight off whining when his hands pull away from you, residing to just a little huff through your nose. There’s this little hint of a smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth that your cloudy mind thinks is full-blown and dorky, but your muscles are just too worn out to go all the way.

A little bit of anxiety settles in your belly knowing that this may be the last time seeing this man again, which is why you take your time lacing up your shoes before a call of your name disrupts your thoughts. “Huh,” your eyes seem to flutter wide, head quickly lifting up. Suguru stands right in front of you, and there’s a bit of humor in the fact that this is the first time you’ve seen him clothed, not vice versa, but you don’t mention it.

“Your number,” he exhales, face marked by exhaustion from the way his dark eyebrows hang low over blown-out visioneers, “can’t let a girl with that good of a pussy go.”

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