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୨୧⋆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ in which geto has never really found a purpose for the mirror in his bedroom until you.

୨୧⋆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ geto x fem!reader, smut (mdni), full nelson position, size difference if u squint, katoptronophillia? (sx in front of a mirror), slight belly bulge, marking, unprotected sx, bit rough at the end, creamp!e. (he basically fcks you dumb!)

Suguru had always had this fantasy--a wet dream even--of ruining someone in front the spacious, looming mirror perched at the foot of his bed. Hell, he'd barely even look into the thing, only doing so when he was in a hurry or in need to fix his hair or clothes. So, it just always seemed so right.

The lucky day you finally came around, doe eyes innocently surveying around the room, lips curling upwards into a smile as he took your smaller form in his arms, he knew you'd be the one to fulfill this dirty little fantasy of his.

His sharp eyes didn't fail to notice the way your vision zoned to the mirror, admiring the gold little details around the frame. "Sugu, what do you use that for?" You asked in that sugary tone of yours, unknowing of what the question would arise into.

Suguru chuckled at the question, seeing his chance, and planted a kiss to your pulse-point, peering up at you, eyes entwined with something you couldn't quite place at the moment.

"Wanna find out?"

And you did soon enough. But by that point in time, he had your thighs pressed against your stomach as his arms locked around the back of your knees, cock pummeling in and out of you at an almost inhuman pace.

Sweat trickled down his forehead, hot pants fanning past your neck.

"Do you know now, princess?" he questioned, the sentence shaky. You locked eyes with him through the reflective glass, moaning alone at the cocky yet pleasure-stricken look on his handsome face.

Your mind felt too fuzzy for you to even consider answering him, mouth opening for an answer, though all that came out was an incoherent mewl.

"Feels that fucking good, huh? Got you dumb on my cock." Suguru groaned, losing himself to the way your walls pulsed and clamped down so deliciously around him, sucking him in like he was the breath to your lungs.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment at the noise your cunt made around him, the loud squelch of your juices being smothered on his dick. And even though you inwardly hoped the shameful sound would stop--Suguru felt his cock twitch inside you--it was like music to his ears.

Closing your eyes, you let your hand hang back, but almost as fast as you had did so, he spoke up. "Keep your eyes on the mirror."

And he thrust in particular hard, causing you to yelp in pleasure and pain and immediately comply with him. "But Sugu, can't keep them open," you watched his reflection, hoping he'd at least serve you some mercy--but no.

"'M not saying it again, baby." that was final. His lips attached to your neck and sucked, only popping them off until he was satisfied with the blemishes on your supple skin. He watched as he entered and came out of you, your clit red and swollen while your folds stretched to accommodate his size.

Suguru slid his gaze up and almost came on the spot.

He could see a slight bulge on your lower stomach where he fucked into you, and he swore something feral let loose in him. Suddenly he was rutting into you twice as fast, heavy and thick inside, a thin sheen of sweat now covering his forehead and sculpted body.

"Y'fucking feel that? Feel me where I'm not supposed to be?" he panted near your ear, your toes curling in sheer pleasure. You nodded, not daring to open your mouth, and let the feeling consume you.

Your thighs began to shake as you neared your high, your nerves overwhelmed with static. "Cumming!"

Before your juices dripped down his cock, the warm feeling triggering his own orgasm, and he gazed at you.

"Inside."

Suguru didn't need any more than that. He released his pent-up load into you, fucking all of it into you.

You were both left panting, inhaling in air that smelled of sex. He sighed contently and pressed a kiss to your forehead, placing your still quivering and sweaty body on the bed.

"That was..." you cut yourself off for air, "So good, Sugu."

Suguru kissed you again, this time on your lips, slowly pulling out of you with a pained and muffled groan. You didn't even want to let go of him.

His lusty gaze snaked down to your battered cunt, drinking in the sight of his seed dripping out of you and the white ring of cum formed around his base.

"Thank you, princess."

#fic library #jjk #geto suguru #🥵🥵wowww

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cw: none. just fluff.

hanma flinches away from any form of intimacy that isn’t sexual at first. when you lean in to kiss his cheek, when you wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind—he just stands there frozen, unsure of what to do, how to proceed with such random display of affection.

he finally learns to appreciate it when he’s about to leave for a toman meeting, his tie is not cooperating neither are his shoes or his hair—he’s starting to get pissed.

“hey, you’re okay,” you say softly when you feel breathe in harshly, you can feel his heart beat speeding up against your fingers as you rub his chest soothingly. your fingers then tug at his tie and you start to do it for him—without him having to ask. and shuji just… stares.

you're used to his intense eyes, but you find yourself smiling when you find him staring at you. you don’t mind, continuing to fix his tie before dusting invisible dirt off of his shoulders. your hand reaches towards his hair and you run your fingers through the dual toned strands, fixing them to your liking. it was always so pretty, such a nice color.

“there you go, all done.” you say it almost in a kindergarten teacher’s voice, sounding very proud that hanma has to lean down to capture your lips in a swift kiss that has you smiling against his mouth.

he pulls away then kisses you again, and then again and again—

“o-okay,” you giggle and place your hands on his shoulders, feeling his lips trail towards your neck. “shuji, you have to leave!”

“I do?” he mumbles against your neck and you hold back a pleasured sigh, knowing that the sound could easily change him mind and have him cancel all of his plans for the rest of the day.

“mhm baby you do,” you reply, planting a kiss to his cheek. “now go, you look good.”

he feels lucky, undeserving of such affection and love from you. he wants to fight back and tell you to go find someone better than him, more emotionally stable—but when he sees you looking at him from the balcony, waving excitedly as he starts the car, his cold heart melts.

home is where you belong.

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

#fic library #tokyo revengers #hanma shuji #🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭💖💖💖💖

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pairing: fem! reader, husband! suguru

c.w: bl0wjobs, dirty talk, cursing.

w.c: 1,3k

When Suguru wants to receive head, he doesn’t say it. Words suddenly seem far too vulgar for a man who spews out filth when he’s fucking his cock deep into you. He wants to catch you off guard with his words, but asking you to suck him off sounds disrespectful—he can spit in your mouth, eat your ass but never push his cock down your throat unless you asked him to. You are too sweet for him, all comfortable in your cotton shorts and worn out T-shirt you had begged him not to get rid of when he pulled it out his closet. You’re so attached to the piece of clothing, he joked that he had competition in the relationship.

He eyes you carefully as you take a seat next to him on the couch, throw your head on his lap and bury your face in his stomach. You are affectionate, that he knows. However, it took everything in Suguru not to buck up his hips when he feels your cheek press against his soft cock. He can feel himself hardening, you’re clearly exhausted and in need of comforting, so he reaches out for the pillow next to him and tries to place it on his crotch.

“What are you doing?” you mumble against his skin, somehow having lifted up his shirt and were now pressing your lips against his stomach.

“Getting you a pillow to rest your head on.” He replies, fingers stroking your hair.  He feels you shake your head, lips peppering kisses along his scarred stomach.

“I don’t need it here,” he stares at you confused, but it doesn’t last for long. He feels you move from the couch and down to the floor where you sit obediently on your knees between his large thighs. You braced yourself on his knees with a look of fascination on your face, wondering what you did in a past life that was so heroic that you were rewarded with such a handsome man, sculpted by God himself.

You reach for the pillow intended for your head and position it below your knees, shuffling a bit to get yourself comfortable. Your fingers reach for his shorts and you look up at Suguru, waiting for him to give you a bit of a helping hand and let you undress him.

“This is all very random,” he says but lifts up his hips nonetheless. How could he complain when he’s been daydreaming of fucking your face all morning? He’s always appreciated your little expressions. You had a face full of emotion—when you were sad, he knew it by the little tremble to your lips. When you were annoyed, your eyebrows would stay furrowed for so long he worried you’d get a headache. Catching anxiety on your face was easy—all color would drain from it. And when you were so full of love for him, so adoring, your eyes spoke volumes to him. Pupils blown wide, smile reaching your cheeks and eye contact that lasted for an eternity—he loved to trace his thumb along your skin, feel the acne scars all the way down to your lips that suck in his thumb like a treat. He loved your face so much, he wanted to stuff it with his cock.

He would let you take the lead, watch what you do with it—he imagines that you would start by licking the side, focus on that one prominent vein that makes him hiss, then you’d lick your way up to the tip before wrapping those delicious lips around it—kind of like how you were doing right now.

You are shameless with showing your appreciation for his massive cock. Your hands fondle with his balls like a stress toy, your mouth busy trying to fit all of him inside—but you can’t. You’ve tried it before and almost choked to death. You take a deep breath as you pull away from his dick, staring at it in its full glory, standing tall. Saliva coated it from all edges, but your favorite was the tip—leaking pre-cum which you were ready to swallow gladly. It tasted bitter, a testament to the coffee and cigarette he consumed regularly, but the rest of Suguru was sweet—all warm and soft touches on your face, roughened up when your voice gets higher and your whines beg him to use your body for his own pleasure.

“Fuck, you are sweet f’me.” He slurs, eyes rolling back and a sigh leaving his lips your hand wraps around the base. You stroke him eagerly, watching with intent eyes as his head rolls back and rests on the couch. Your clit tingles when you see the muscle of his arms flex, his hand twitching and you pray he would grip the back of your head with it. You moan around the tip when he does, and it sends Suguru spiraling.

“Holy shit,” his eyes shoot open when you start to bob your head, using both hands to stroke his cock up and down all whilst twisting. You combine the two actions, creating what Suguru believes is a recipe for trouble because he finds his one foot raising to the tips, trying to control the shakes that was going through his thighs. But to no avail.

You are unstoppable when you hear Suguru reach that part of his journey to his orgasm—when all self-control exits his body and his noises start sounding more of a recording of a high quality, fan favorite porn video. He is hissing, lips smacking as he tries to keep his noises in—he covers his face with his hand but soon realizes that he needs to grab onto something so now his face is uncovered and it’s a sight to see—flushed cheeks, sweaty forehead and lips parted as they bless your ears.

“Shit, oh shit, oh baby,” he sits up fully, hands holding your head as you continue your movements. You can’t see him now but you know that you can’t stop. You feel him fucking up into your mouth, eyes tearing up everytime the tip of his fat cock hits the back of your throat but it doesn’t matter—not when you were making Suguru cum.

“Fuck yeah keep going, just like that mm—“ his words are so encouraging, it makes you squeeze your thighs. You didn’t want to touch yourself because that would mean one less hand to stroke his cock. You weren’t willing to make that sacrifice when you knew your pussy was going to receive princess treatment after making your husband cum. “Oh fuck yes, yeah yeah—“

He cums with a loud string of profanities, emptying himself down your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut as his dick shoots thick ropes of cum, your hands resting on his knees as you slowly pull your mouth off of him. The living room is filled with breathing sounds, Suguru leans back to catch his breath and locks eyes with you right as you wipe your mouth with a proud, cock-drunk grin. There’s saliva coating your chin which you didn’t wipe off, so Suguru reaches a hand down and grabs your jaw.

“You are—fuck,” he laughs in disbelief, unable to wrap his head around the fact that you just gave him such a mind-blowing orgasm so randomly.

“Amazing?” you ask cheekily, letting him pull you on his lap as you straddle him. You purposely sit your ass on his limp dick, grinning when he hisses and his hands find your hips to grip them and keep you off of his cock. “Who says I’m done?” You tilt your head to the side and your husband stares at you with wide eyes when he feels you start grinding against his sensitive dick.

“How about another one, hm?”

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

#fic library #jjk #geto suguru #🥵🥵❤️❤️ #sooo hot and sweet wowww

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ECHOES OF TIME ༉‧₊˚. hanma shuji

Summary: Amidst the chaos of his work life, Hanma finds refuge and solace within your presence. Two souls bound by an imperceptible and delicate tie, strained by the passage of time that kept you apart. However, can this thin thread endure the weight of his inner struggles? And will you accept offering your heart to such an unpredictable man?

Read Echoes of Time and find out!

Word count: (19,2k words)

Content warning: canon related, not canon compliant, evil toman! hanma, fem! reader, reader is described to be shorter and of a smaller build than hanma's, cursing, gvn use, mvrder, description of graphic scenes, blood, gang violence, smut, oral (receiving and giving), fingering, unprotected sex, hanma has a vasectomy, size kink, dirty talk, angst.

note: this is, once again, heavily self indulgent. I still tried to make it as vague as possible, but some of the interactions or conversations that happen are ones that I envisioned for my selfship with him. there will be a few characters present in the story to make it fun and because it makes no sense for the story to happen just between the two of them, hopefully you’ll enjoy it. but if this isn't your cup of tea, kindly move along and have a great day.

CHAPTER ONE (4k words)

CHAPTER TWO (4k words)

CHAPTER THREE (4k words) cw: violence, mvrder.

CHAPTER FOUR (7,2k words) cw: smut

CHAPTER FIVE (coming soon)

CHAPTER SIX (coming soon)

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

#fic library #tokyo revengers #hanma shuji #need to catch up❤️❤️

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ECHOES OF TIME ༉‧₊˚. hanma shuji

Summary: Amidst the chaos of his work life, Hanma finds refuge and solace within your presence. Two souls bound by an imperceptible and delicate tie, strained by the passage of time that kept you apart. However, can this thin thread endure the weight of his inner struggles? And will you accept offering your heart to such an unpredictable man?

Read Echoes of Time and find out!

Word count: (14k and still counting)

Content warning: canon related, not canon compliant, evil toman! hanma, fem! reader, reader is described to be shorter and of a smaller build than hanma's, cursing, gvn use, mvrder, description of graphic scenes, blood, gang violence, smut, oral (receiving and giving), fingering, unprotected sex, hanma has a vasectomy, size kink, dirty talk, angst.

note: this is, once again, heavily self indulgent. I still tried to make it as vague as possible, but some of the interactions or conversations that happen are ones that I envisioned for my selfship with him. there will be a few characters present in the story to make it fun and because it makes no sense for the story to happen just between the two of them, hopefully you’ll enjoy it. but if this isn't your cup of tea, kindly move along and have a great day.

CHAPTER ONE (4k words)

CHAPTER TWO (coming soon)

CHAPTER THREE (coming soon)

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

#fic library #tokyo revengers #hanma shuji #❤️❤️❤️

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ECHOES OF TIME ༉‧₊˚.

༉‧₊˚. episode 01: trust fall.

Summary: Amidst the chaos of his work life, Hanma finds refuge and solace within your presence. Two souls bound by an imperceptible and delicate tie, strained by the passage of time that kept you apart. However, can this thin thread endure the weight of his inner struggles? And will you accept offering your heart to such an unpredictable man?

preview: " . . . He still used the same nicknames, the flirtatious nature intensifying over the years—you assume it’s also because he’s gained experience, dated and hooked up with many women. You look at his attire—more specifically his build and you’re certain he has women under his mercy."

word count: 3,9k

content warning: pervert on the metro, cursing, mentions of violence and mvrder, hanma standing behind the reader.

➜ ┊: (@softshuji) (@sin-and-punishment) (@kariatenoh)✰

༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!

The last tokyo metro train leaves at midnight, after that it is eerily silent in the train stations until 5 in the morning. Realistically, you had no reason to be out until midnight—your boring office job as an assistant manager required you to be up at 7:30 in the morning and out of the house by 8:15 so you could arrive at the building a few minutes to 9.

You’re not sure why your feet are dragging you so fast in the station, it hurts to run in high heels and the stupid pencil skirt you’d chosen to wear for the day clung to your skin so tightly it was hard to breathe. Nonetheless, you mumble hurried “sorry”s as you push your way past the sea of people not minding that it was almost 8:30PM. Not you, you wanted to get home, shower, eat some warm food and a good amount of sleep. You regret having agreed to go out with your coworkers for a drink. Although you aren’t even drunk or tipsy, you are slightly pissed that you wasted a good 3 hours that you could’ve silently enjoyed in the comfort of your own home.

“Excuse me—yes, sorry sorry—“finally inside the train, you’re a bit irritated that there aren’t any empty seats but alas, you are on the train and that’s all what mattered. Your arm reaches towards the bar hanging above you and you hold onto it for support as the train gets ready to move. In the midst of your panic and urgency to get home, you fail to stay aware of your surroundings—of the creeps lurking around which are much more than one would expect. However, it is Tokyo, and the train was filled with men. Disgusting men.

Your hand smoothens the fabric of your skirt a couple of times, glancing over your shoulder to see if there was anyone doing anything strange. Your thoughts are cut off right as the doors are about to close—a hand stops the movements and effortlessly pushes them open but once you see that it’s none other than a man—you roll your eyes a bit and stare ahead of you, not bothering to check his face.

He is tall

That’s the only thing that stands out in him beside the fancy suit he is casually sporting on a regular metro train. His head is above everyone else’s and it seems a little intimidating that he can easily tower over you even whilst you’re wearing heels.

The pain in your feet intensifies all of a sudden, and you muffle a hiss. You can’t even reach down and soothe your feet nor can you rest them. Only 15 more minutes of this and… you’ll be free.

As you reach down to caress your leg, a poor and futile attempt at getting the pain to migrate from your feet—you’re suddenly aware of the warm body standing right behind you. Way too close for comfort. You aren’t one to scream in public, but you find yourself panicking at the possibility of what you were experiencing. Your arm reaches behind you and you’re fully expecting the man to be all up on you, his hands perhaps hovering over your hips but—

“hey what the fuck—!“ on your left, you see a man get pushed onto the ground. He looks like a deer caught in headlights as his phone falls next to him.

The camera app was open.

It doesn’t take you long to put two and two together, your hands instinctively going back to your skirt as you try to pull it down—magically turn it into one of a longer length. You aren’t sure of what to do, thoughts racing in your brain of all the possibilities of what the man could’ve done had he taken a picture of you.

“You have a problem?” the tall man squats down to be face to face with the pervert who freezes when he looks at the man’s hands, then up to his face where he sees the dangling earring. From your angle, you can only guess that the two men have some sort of unresolved issues—but based on the horror on the pervert's face, it seems bigger than that.

"N-no, I'm sorry--"

"Fuck off."

You want to thank the man, you truly do--but you were on a moving metro and it was excessively crowded for you to turn around and fully face him. You expect him to pull away after the little stunt he's pulled to save you, perhaps bully someone to offer him their seat but instead, you feel his chest awfully close to your back and you freeze.

Did he push the man away just so he could have his way with you? Do you elbow him in the stomach? a million thoughts run through your head but they're quickly interrupted when you hear his deep voice, this time way too close to your ear.

"Long time no see, doll." his wrist rests lazily on the bar you're gripping to keep yourself steady, and one quick glance at his hand and your blood runs cold.

Doll, dangly earrings and tattooed hands—

Before you could turn around and face him, his other hand grabs onto your hips and helps you stay still, his chin now fully resting on your shoulder.

"Shhh, wait until we get to our station. Can't talk to you properly with all these people around, can I?"

There was nothing to talk about, nothing to discuss for that matter. You're surprised the man remembers you despite it being 12 years since you last saw him--you were just a teenager, two years younger than him and fascinated by his way of living.

A reckless life, something you could never see yourself doing. And despite everyone around you (mostly Takemichi and Chifuyu) telling you to be careful with the guy who was called the reaper of shinjuku, you two hit it off quite well. He'd walk you home from school, and each time he claimed he didn't mean to do it, you'd smile and nod at him. Because you knew that his house was the other way and he had no reason to be walking the same way as you.

Calling you doll wasn't something he planned for, it happened rather naturally. You were out buying snacks for yourself and you happened to pass by a toman meeting right after he joined with kisaki, his friend (although calling them friends was a bit of a stretch). He'd notice you from the corner of his eye and slip from the crowd of teenage boys to talk to you.

No matter how hard he'd tried to deny his soft spot for you, calling you doll very loudly to get your attention gave everything away and kisaki knew very well that the boy was just bad with words.

But as magical as it was, the bond you two had fell apart right before your eyes. You're not even sure how it happened--neither of you tried to fix it. You'd see him less outside, the walks from school to your apartment became nonexistent and even when you'd spot him outside, the two of you would pretend like you didn't know each other. it was sad, because the friendship fell apart over... nothing. You'd simply stopped trying and perhaps it felt like it was time to move on.

Two years later, you left town to pursue your studies. a higher education was everything to you and after earning a degree in economics and business and then came back to Tokyo. You found a job at a high-tech company and you were more than satisfied with how you were living. Or at least that's what you were telling yourself up until this point.

You feel a squeeze on your hip as the metro comes to a halt, and your thoughts are quickly replaced by the thought of him. Of Hanma Shuji's presence. Your skin feels prickly as people start to leave one by one, yet you refuse to budge until you feel him casually wrap an arm around your middle before pulling you out and onto the platform.

There you allow yourself to breathe and stare up at the man because fuck--he's grown much taller in the last decade. However his eyes, previously filled with mischief, are now devoid of any emotion. He seems bored, like he isn't the luxurious life he must be living. Expensive suits, an expensive watch and golden rings adorning his tattooed fingers. This was the life Hanma wanted to have, this is the life he told you he will work hard for--so why did he look like he wasn't enjoying it?

To put it in simple words, having everything just didn't feel like enough. However when the tall man spots you, it ignites a fire in him that he thought had died years ago with his teenage self. He watches from his car as you hurry down the street, his tinted windows allow him to stare at you for as long as he wants--making sure that it was actually you before telling his chauffeur to park the car and wait for him. Scared and unable to say no, the chauffeur had no choice but to wait for the man.

Hanma tries not to make it obvious that he was following you, every now and then he would glance at your body, your hair--how so much has changed and yet nothing at the same time. You still have the same hurried walk, the scar on the back of your leg is still there and it seems as though you died your hair a different color. You still make the same faces when you're frustrated, and you press your lips to mask your anxiety. God, how has it been so long and yet it feels like Hanma lost you yesterday?

When he sees you enter the metro station, he is a bit irritated. Why don't you have a car? Or why didn't you call for a cab? He can't scold you now, not when he can see that the man who was standing by the wall started following you as soon as you had walked down the stairs.

All of this excited him--it felt like he gained a sense of purpose all over again. If all goes well, he could kill the man in front of everyone and if not--he would still get to talk to you. As he stares you down, his fingers twitch and he’s reminded of how soft and plushy your skin felt under his grip. You’re an adult now, your body has gone through changes. The lip gloss coating your soft lips looks delicious, he can smell the peachy scent from where he stands. He wonders if the scent would stick to him after he kisses you, after all it’s been many years since the last time he’s felt your lips.

What do you say to someone you haven’t seen for over a decade? Better yet, how do you act? Your body feels tingly under his intense gaze, like something out of a movie—time slows down, and passersby are reduced to nothing but white noise. You pray that he says something, that he takes the lead and spares you the suffocating anxiety sitting heavy on your chest. Even as an adult, you’re not the best with holding conversations. Let alone with someone you thought you’d never see ever again.

But they do say you meet a person at least twice in your life. As a teenager, you would’ve never believed that you’d find yourself in a situation where Hanma isn’t in your life—and being a teenager means you think you have life figured out, that no changes will be brought to your surroundings or routine. Only for life to take an unexpected turn right before you turn 20 and then your twenties consist of trying to figure your life out, thinking you have it figured out—only for things to change again. You assume that you were experiencing the latter.

“Shinjuku?” Shuji breaks the silence but the expression on his face remains unchanged—a bit foreign to you. However, amusement dances deep within those golden orbs, something like a dangerous ride at a carnival, he wants to know why you came back and why you left in the first place.

“Yeah.” you start to walk towards the exit and Hanma naturally follows behind.

“Where do you work?” He asks and you shoot him a look over your shoulder, one of suspicion.

“Come on doll, ya don’t trust me?” the same playful grin comes back, but this time you don’t entertain him. Or at least, you don’t try to. Because for some odd reason, anything you do has Hanma’s body feeling like there’s a million fires ignited in him. The curiosity is back, and you’re the same quiet teenager he’s met 12 years ago.

“I don’t.” you reply shortly, and he snorts. What was funny about your answer anyway?

“I’ll give you that, careful girl.” He still used the same nicknames, the flirtatious nature intensifying over the years—you assume it’s also because he’s gained experience, dated and hooked up with many women. You look at his attire—more specifically his build and you’re certain he has women under his mercy.

“Are you gonna invite me over to your place?”

“Hanma listen—“ you stop right at the exit and he stands so close to you that you have to put a hand on his chest to keep a distance between the two of you. He stares at your hand before glancing at your face, and you catch the way there’s a glint in his eyes as they flicker down to your lips. Your stomach leaps and you remove your hand.

“I- we- it’s been years, okay? We’re not—we’re no longer close. I don’t know how you found me, I’m not sure I want to know—“

“Saw you walk down the street on your way to the metro,” he blurts out quickly. His expression unmoving as he continues. “Recognized you from the way you walk. It’s the same.”

Your mouth opens and closes—you’re certain that you look stupid as you try to process his words. He recognized the way you walk.

“Is that weird, doll?”

“Yes,” you hiss. “Very fucking weird.”

“Don’t blame me. I walked behind you for a whole year when we were kids.” He leans closer to your face, you gulp when you feel his size tower over you. “Can’t forget that little run you do when you know you’re late,” he says almost in a whisper, voice purring in your ear.

“O-Okay!” this time you place a hand on his shoulder to create a safe distance between the two of you, and you look in the direction of your apartment building to avoid any unnecessary feelings floating to the surface. “I have to go. I have work tomorrow and I’m exhausted—“

“Let me drive you there,” he suggests, golden eyes searching for your nervous ones in the cold night. He sees you contemplating, your face twitches a little and he notices that you can’t stand properly on your feet. Glancing down at your feet, the high heels you were wearing looked painful. If it were up to him, he’d carry you bridal style to your apartment.

Before you can even refuse, a black Maserati Quattroporte with tinted windows pulls up next to you. You stare at Hanma only to find him holding up his phone. How quickly did he dial that phone number for the chauffeur to arrive so fast? Or was he lurking around? Normally, you’d feel unsafe under such circumstances—an old acquaintance popping out of nowhere, finding you then suggesting to drive you home? You’re surprised you haven’t called the police yet.

Still, you make your way towards the car with shaky hands hesitating to open the car. Hanma does it for you, a hand resting at the small of your back. “After you.”

The scent of fine leather and expensive taste hits your nostrils as you settle on the seats that swallow you in comfort. The interior is drowned in darkness, allowing no light to sneak its way from the outside. It reeked of sophistication and you found yourself questioning if what you were doing was correct.

You glance above you out of sheer curiosity, only to be met with the sunroof that offered a view of the star-studded sky. The chauffeur remains quiet as Hanma opens the door and sits in the back seat next to you, and without saying a word, the door closes and the chauffeur starts driving on cue.

“Where to?” he leans down to whisper in your ear, now catching the hints of cigarettes and the magnetic and invigorating smell of his perfume. One whiff has you weak in the knees, you wonder what else could get you so easily at his mercy—

“Doll?” you catch his eyes and stare ahead at the chauffeur, refusing to utter another word to the man sitting on your right.

“Okube koreatown.”

You’re not sure if the drive is supposed to take longer than ten minutes, but you find yourself in Hanma’s car longer than intended. The chauffeur is driving slow, dragging each and every painfully long minute to allow his boss extra time with you. After all, Shuji doesn’t know when he will get to see you again.

“You never told me where you work.”

“And I won’t.”

“Yet you’re allowing me to drive you home?” he tilts his head to the side and you chuckle dryly.

“Bold of you to assume I’m telling you my address.”

Hanma’s grin is wider than ever, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve managed to pull such a reaction out of him under so little time.

“I knew you were a smart one.” He then reaches for his pocket and pulls out his card. “Let me pay for your cab then.”

“I have my own money,” you frown and he stares at you, deadpanned.

“Never said you didn’t.” The chauffeur stops when you tell him to, Hanma gets out of the car before you do and opens the door for you.

“Chivalry is not dead.” He strokes his own ego with his words. You roll your eyes at this, and stand away from the car before eyeing the cars down the streets, hoping to flag down a cab.

“You seriously don’t trust me to take you back home?” he stands next to you on the side walk, hands buried in his pockets as he scans the cars with you. You don’t reply, you’re not sure what you’re supposed to say. But you have every right to be cautious, to not trust the man you haven’t seen in over a decade—one whose face felt so familiar yet so foreign, with mannerisms that you never imagined he would adapt. Hanma doesn’t feel like the same boy you’d once held so dearly to your heart, he is a changed man. You don’t know what life showed him, or what he’s been through, but something about all this money that he had—it felt like what he was doing was wrong.

“What do you do for a living?” It’s your turn to ask the million dollar question. It catches Hanma off guard for a split second before he composes himself.

What did he do for a living? He’s never asked himself that question—somewhere down the road, he’s lost himself to the money and drugs. A simple request from Kisaki could render the man in a pool of blood that didn’t belong to him. The streets of Tokyo were terrified of him, each crease and corner bore the scars of his violence, his wrath—

He’s always thought that there was something wrong with him, never bothered to define it. He was after something fun, something that brings him a sense of pleasure. Shuji was bored, he was reckless and acts on a whim. And when everything intensifies, crime strikes again and Toman makes headlines on the TV in record time. He wonders if you’ve ever seen that name on the big screen, if you even remember it.

“Three men found hung by the Rainbow Bridge in Tokyo. Cause of death hasn’t been determined—“

They were all killed execution style. Shuji knows that because he is the one who did it. It wasn’t really his fault, they left him no choice. He caught them trying to get money from another gang, and being the generous man that he is, he offered them twice the amount.

In exchange for going on a little tour around Tokyo at night.

When Shuji kills, he is in a haze. There are no words in the dictionary to describe what it feels like to hold a gun to someone’s head, to be in control of someone’s life. That’s when Shuji’s boredom subsides and is replaced with this jittery feeling in his chest, he could easily mistake it for a highschool crush he’s never had in his entire life. He holds the cold barrel of the gun to his lips as they make an O shape, pushing the weapon inside his mouth before pretending to shoot. There is a playful glint in his eyes.

“Pew!” He bites his lips as he stares down at the last man alive, kneeling before him with snot and drool and tears covering his face in an ugly mess. “Ya like that one better?” Of course, Hanma offers options because he is not cruel. He wants this man to go the way that he wants, what kind of man would he be if he doesn’t grant this poor filthy rat a last wish?

A horrible man.

He’s heard it so many times from so many people—women he’s broken up with, men with families begging to be left alive, to go back to their children and spouses, old people when he doesn’t let them cross the street, couples when he decides to piss right next to them as they are having a romantic walk out. The dual toned man doesn’t embrace this part of his identity, his arms only wrap around something when it gives him pleasure. He doesn’t feel much for being called horrible, but he does feel a lot for being called a traitor. Because if there is anything Shuji hates, it’s being betrayed.

But would that answer your question? Of what he does for a living?

His actions, his orders—those reached deeper than the physical realm. His influence stands strong in the midst of a world filled with betrayal and alliances shifting like sand in the wind. Loyalty was important to the man who lived his life like a game of twister, earned through fear and intimidation.

The question of what he does remains unanswered for a few more minutes as silence falls heavy on your shoulders, making you feel the weight of the distance and time that’s pulled the two of you apart. You don’t bother asking again, hand raised in the car to catch the taxi driver’s attention.

“Goodnight, Hanma.” You say as you open the door for yourself and he doesn’t budge, simply ducks his head and makes his way towards his own car.

“Night, doll.”

➜ ┊: it's here! i couldn't wait any longer, I needed to introduce you guys to my newest baby! I love evil toman hanma, i've been obsessed with him for... quite some time now and so why not write something for him? anyway, the chapters will be coming in slowly, I still need to figure out a way to go about the next events hehe but enjoy reading!

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

#fic library #tokyo revengers #hanma shuji #omg so excited for this series! #wow love the vibes so far! so so good❤️

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★ 'Cause I'm Sagittarius

Pairing : Gojo / fem reader

Synopsis : birthday boy Gojo Satoru unwraps and enjoys his gift — which is you!

Warnings : 🔞 MDNI/18+ content, riding, some hair pulling (him), light size kink, deep penetration, f*ngering, f*replay, cr*ampie (reader is on birth control)

Content : smut, birthday sex, some pining/love sick Satoru, some plot

Note : this is my happy birthday to this man 😗✌️

The glitter on his skin shimmers under the chandelier light. There's confetti stuck in his hair, which has been ruffled up throughout the night. Crimson and burgundy lipstick kiss marks decorate his face and neck, but he wipes them off when he sees you arrive.

Gojo Satoru certainly didn't expect to see his high school crush at his 34th birthday party. You're the one he used to be obsessive and desperate about when he was 17. Unbeknownst to him, Shoko invited you — she had to practically beg, because you lived so far away from Tokyo. Shoko convinced you after telling you how much Gojo Satoru still blabs about you to this day.

You completely steal his attention without realizing. Your oblivion charms him even more.

But each time Satoru tries to reminisce with you and bask in your company, it only lasts a few minutes because he's stolen back by the smothering crowd.

And then for the first time in years, he feels annoyed to be the center of attention.

Can everyone disappear except for her; I just want us to be alone together.

Someone gives him a plastic crown at some point in the night. It adorns his snowy head it until it falls off while he's dancing — and wow, Gojo Satoru dancing is a spectacle.

The way he moves his body to the music captures your attention and you stare.

You and him make electric eye contact. He sends a wink your way and you bite your lip back to him. It takes him aback and he stutters on the dance floor. Just this small, wordless interaction between you and him — even though you two haven't seen each other in years — is enough to excite him and get his heart pumping harder.

He pries his dance partner off of him, half-heartedly apologizes to her, and then desperately follows after you as you get lost in the hazy crowd.

Satoru finds you, he looks sweaty from dancing. He grabs your arm, mutters a breathless hey and asks if you want to go somewhere quieter with him. So you giggle and agree, taking his hand and letting him lead you out of the heat of the party.

Clutching his gift, you acknowledge the pile of presents that are piled up in the foyer. It makes your gift seem pathetic, but Satoru's eyes glitter when you give it to him and he pockets it as if you've gifted him your heart.

Just flirting and talking back and forth with you for a bit makes his cock harden. He can feel each inch slowly grow and press against his inner thigh, making a prominent bulge in his tight suit pants.

"Sorry I didn't bring you a good gift..." you say.

Satoru gives you bedroom eyes, then replies with, "But you brought yourself..." he rasped, "How about I unwrap you?"

⁕⁕⁕⁕

Trapping you in a heated, sloppy make out, Satoru slithers his tongue past your lips and groans into your mouth. You've lured him upstairs.

His pale, veiny hands slip under your dress and massage your thighs and hips, inching up until the bottom curve of your ass shows.

He leads you down the empty hallway, and desperately opens the door to his bedroom by pressing his back into it, never breaking from your lips as he pulls you in with him.

You gasp when he finally relieves your tension by rubbing the heel of his palm into your pussy. His big hands cup and squeeze it.

Satoru's jaw juts a little as he sucks a mark onto your neck. You lace your fingers into his hair and squeeze your thighs together. His dick throbs when you start begging him to rub your pussy.

Lowering your panties until they rest mid-way between your thighs, he gathers your juices on his fingertips and rubs up and down your puffy clit for a bit before sinking his middle finger into your pussy to stimulate your G-spot.

You pull on his hair and he moans, "Fuck, pull my hair harder."

Now this is the attention he actually needed tonight. Your fingers snuggling into his white hair and pulling on it while he snuggles his fingers in your slippery pussy.

Satoru stretches you out on his fingers and toys with your G-spot until you're trembling. Then he withdraws before he starts working up your orgasm.

When you try undress yourself, he stops you.

"I'm the birthday boy and you're my gift," he smirks, "Let me undress you."

And he starts undressing you like he's unwrapping a present. Satoru's nimble fingers peel off your dress and panties and unclasp your bra. His touch is cool against your hot skin.

He drifts his fingers up the middle of your back with a touch so light it's ticklish. It's on purpose, to make you shudder and tense your back into an arch.

"You're really g-good at this..." you breathe.

"Yeah, I know. It's 'cause I'm a Sagittarius." he replies smugly.

He unbuckles his belt and slides it off.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

The party is still ongoing, and guests are craning their necks and darting their eyes around in search of Gojo who just suddenly disappeared with you.

Satoru wants you to ride him; he begs like a spoiled prince.

"Come on, please, I wanna see those hips bouncing on my lap." he coos.

His eyes light up when you agree to ride him. The next request the birthday boy has is if he can do it raw, and he doesn't expect you to agree so his jaw drops open when you nonchalantly agree, telling him to go ahead and cum inside too if he wants because you've got birth control.

Soon you're bouncing up and down on his bare cock and he's relishing in the sight of your body jiggling. He tilts his head back and bites his lip, hungrily feeling up your breasts and your back.

"Faster." he groans, "Don't get sloppy now. Keep bouncing those hips on me or I'll do it myself."

When he feels his orgasm build up, he grabs your hips harshly and takes control.

"Fuck, Satoru!" you gasp, melting against his broad chest, cheek squishing against his pink nipple.

He pounds his cock into you at an angle that turns your brain to mush and slurs your speech. You hiccough and curse, feeling his big cock's tip rubbing deep inside you.

"Oh my god," he chuckles through a moan, "That pussy's so clingy. You're driving me insane, baby."

His muscular thighs hit your ass, his tight, full balls slap against you as he goes as fast and hard as he can. "That's it, just lay on me and take it."

"I'm so close, gonna cu—mmm! Cumming, 'mmm cumming, Satoru!" you scream. Good thing the party downstairs is so loud.

He groans and gets off to watching you orgasm on his cock. You cross your eyes, feeling his dick rubbing so deep makes you cum like a slut.

"Fuck, I'm cumming too. Take it." he grunts, fucking you hard but holding back his true strength.

It feels like his breath runs out when he cums. He gasps so dramatically and spurts out a huge load of cum deep into your hot, tight pussy. His toes curl and he pinches his eyes shut, while his lips naturally stretch into a slutty O shape.

You slide off his sensitive cock and whimper, feeling so empty after getting stretched open so much.

Rolling off each other's bodies, glowing, panting like you've run a marathon.

He hardly looks roughed up like you do; his hair is tousled from the sex, yes, but his skin glistens and glitters with sweat and body glitter, giving him this ethereal beauty. He has to close his eyes after cumming so hard and so much. His balls feel empty.

Satoru lays with you for a while, massaging your sore parts with his big hands.

"I'm so glad you came tonight." he says cheekily. "Wanna go out for coffee sometime?"

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

#fic library #jjk #gojo satoru #wowowow #lovee<3

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⊹ 21:53 — Matsukawa Issei ⊹

prompt: mattsun + exes + lazy (days) // sfw + gn

excerpt: Mattsun’s always found it hard to take your anger too seriously. The way you pout and stomp, the way your arms cross over your chest as you huff at him in exasperation. “Where’s Makki?” You ask, ignoring his jab at you.

“What are you doing here, Matsukawa?”

Mattsun smirks from his spot at the door, grin growing wider when he sees the way your eyes peek at the sliver of skin that’s been exposed along his waistline.

“Last I checked, I lived here,” he pushes off the doorframe, stepping to the side to allow you in. His eyes skim your form appreciatively, smirking at the sight of his shirt you wear. “Nice shirt,” he teases, “where’d you get it?”

Mattsun’s always found it hard to take your anger too seriously. The way you pout and stomp, the way your arms cross over your chest as you huff at him in exasperation. “Where’s Makki?” You ask, ignoring his jab at you.

A frown falls on Mattsun’s face as he takes a step closer to you. “C’mon, angel,” he frowns, “how long are ya going to stay mad at me?”

You look down to your shoes with a frown, surrendering when Mattsun bends to take them off for you— as he always does.

“C’mon, angel,” he guides you into the living room, your snacks already sat on the table as if he knew you were coming (he did). Just like how you knew Makki was working today, like he does every Saturday.

“It’s Saturday,” he says matter-of-factly, “it’s our lazy day.”

You sigh in defeat, snuggling into his side and hiding your grin when he presses a kiss to your head, thankful he always has the patience for your dramatics.

“You don’t deserve our lazy days,” you huff, intertwining your fingers despite.

“I know.”

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.”

“We’re still broken up.”

Issei laughs at this, pulling your head to rest against his chest, smoothing his fingers through your hair. (Pretending he can’t feel the way your fingers trace ‘I love you’ into his heart). “Whatever you say angel, whatever you say.”

a/n: for you my beloved @seiwas

@0301995 do not translate/copy/repost any of my works!

#fic library #haikyuu #matsukawa issei #🥺 so cute

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cw: fem! reader, making out, biting, super self indulgent.

I like to believe that when hanma kisses, he puts his whole body into it. his hands are roaming your sides, sliding under your shirt and trying to feel as much of your skin as your clothes allow him to. you guys are making out on his couch, you are straddling his lap and the man cannot get enough of the way your lips move against his.

you can smell his perfume, it’s intoxicating how whenever he pulls back to stare at your face, you get a whiff of his perfume and your hands grab his face to pull him back for a deeper kiss. he likes that, he likes that you’re also hungry for more and he is almost ready to give himself to you. you learn that he’s into biting, he pulls back from your neck when he hears you hiss at the sting and he doesn’t apologize, he just stares up at you with intense golden eyes and his thumb rubs at your skin to soothe it.

“did I hurt ya?” you don’t give a verbal response, but instead lean down and bite down at his neck too. it’s not one of revenge, but because his neck is long—it’s attractive and you see the way he clenches his jaw. you half expect him to hiss just like you, have the same reaction but instead, a shameless moan escapes his lips and you feel his hips buck up from underneath you.

god, he’s so hot. you almost wanna grab his face and bite down at his lip, see if he really likes being bit this much.

he leans towards you and captures your lips in another kiss, but this time he flips you on your back as you land on the couch, and your heart thrums loudly against your ribcage when you feel him tower over you. you realize that you cannot escape him even if you wanted to.

with the way he was pressing his knee against your clothed cunt, leaving was the last option on your mind. you needed to feel this man impossibly closer to you, and when his hand starts to spread your legs, gripping your thighs in his hands to make himself more comfortable, you realize how much you don’t want him to stop.

“shuji,” you sound so sweet, your swollen lips are tempting and said man bites his own lip as he hums in response.

“let’s take it slow,”

did he want to? maybe not, he could feel his cock straining against his pants. but for you, for that sweet voice and those adorable eyes staring up at him with so much trust. he would go as slow as how time passes by when he’s waiting for you to come by.

#fic library #tokyo revengers #hanma shuji #sooo good ughh🥵🥵❤️❤️ #also that last bit so sweet🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️

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cw: noncon, reader is restrained, oviposition, monsterfucking, belly bulge, blood, breeding, size kink, two (large) dicks, yuuta bites reader with his fangs. Mentions of a past experience on Yuuta’s part. reader is mentioned to be ovulating. Naga!Yuuta x fem!reader. Shoutout to Sage anon for starting the naga!yuuta agenda… sorry. it's the voices. you know how it goes. Length: 2.1k Banner by @/cafekitsune

For a creature that's holding you against your will, Yuuta is surprisingly considerate.

Despite telling you that the only reason he hasn't eaten you yet is because he can smell how fertile you are, he hasn't touched you in the week since he's kept you in his cave. Earlier, you told yourself it was perhaps because he's changed his mind. Or maybe he had realized, over the last week, that he did not actually want you to "carry his brood" as he so crudely put it himself within minutes of meeting you. Maybe he changed his mind, and was simply using you as a heater at night (which wasn't so bad, admittedly. Being surrounded by his thick tail was definitely better than cold, hard cave floor).

You had high hopes of being freed gently, after a week of him feeding you and attempting to charm you with the bloodied belongings of deceased spelunkers who were not as lucky as you were. You had told yourself that this half snake-half man creature that you could only dream up in nightmares was actually just being kind to you and would release you once your body was healed up enough to move. It was a nice thing to tell yourself each time you were faced with him reappearing from the dark, covered in blood, actively choosing not to feast on your flesh. It had to be for a reason, right?

After you'd eaten a meal of questionable origin (as all meals given to you by him were) he'd taken to his daily habit of 'smelling' you with his tongue. It is a strange thing, indeed, to watch his human lips part and produce a thin, forked tongue. It was nothing short of invasive, having him taste the air surrounding your body. And each day he'd mumble something along the lines of 'not yet'; you didn't understand what he meant by such a thing, and he did not offer to elaborate.

But today the smelling/tasting/whatever he was doing with his tongue produced a different result. Today, with a satisfied hum, he smiled at you with fangs protruding, the dark slits in his eyes looking especially fiendish.

"You're ready."

"Ready for what?" you asked, innocently, as his thick mass of tail had coiled itself around you. It was just on the edge of constricting, as its weight settled on your limbs.

What a naive girl you were.

His answer came to you in the form of him holding you down in his nest, scaled tail too weighty for your limbs to even dream of pushing back. And even with your incessant wriggling, he manages to peel away the layers of your clothing. It leaves your pretty, small human body delightfully open for him. He can’t peel his eyes off of your glistening cunt if he tried.

And despite the week spent in his captivity it is at that moment that you see him for the first time—two large, phallic appendages emerging from a slit where a human man's reproductive organs would be.

Does he really intend to put both of those inside of you?

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt,” he says, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as the rest of your body is immobilized. You want to say something, anything, but honestly you’re still so stuck on the sight of his two penises. They are way too big for your body, that much you know for a fact.

“It’s—they—they’re too…” your body attempts to move away from his approaching tongue, shoulders pressing back against the flooring. Your body moves not even an inch, held so firmly in place.

“I’ve heard that our saliva assists in easing the pain,” he tells you, syllables just slightly slurred by the weight of his tongue. “I will do my best.”

“H-have you,” you swallow, as his tongue flicks across the small space between his (admittedly) handsome face and your pussy. “Have you done this before?”

His dark eyes widen a little as he says, “Once. Another human.”

You don’t have time to question it any further—when he finishes speaking he unhinges his sharp jaw, further than a human should be able to, and quickly pierces your vulva with four fangs. The piercing scream that leaves your lips echos off the cave walls, pain stinging where he bites. Tears well at the corners of your eyes but the pain doesn’t last very long; just as soon as you begin to feel his teeth pull away, blood bubbling up from the wounds, so does a feeling of numbness begin to seep through the source of your pain. It is as he said—the saliva he leaves in your open wounds fizzles out the pain into nothingness. In mere moments, if it weren’t for the blood in the crack between your thigh and your pussy, you’d forget about the bites entirely.

He flicks his tongue over each bite-wound, and surely the area between your legs starts to feel—well, you can’t feel, actually. At least you’ve stopped thrashing about, to Yuuta’s relief.

It is behind the cages of dark lashes that he looks up at you when he’s done licking the blood away. Though your senses are dulled, you can vaguely feel his forked tongue swipe over your hole. Despite how much you don’t want this, your body responds to the stimulus of his tongue with dripping arousal—he can taste it, the tangy nectar that you drip for him. And to think you had resisted so intensely.

“So warm,” he notes, cool breath passing over your pussy. “You’re perfect.”

You do the math in your head, thinking to yourself that between your last period and the time you’ve been in this cave, it has to have been about two weeks…

Is what he is sensing… ovulation?

Your thighs shake against his palms, struggling as you watch his tongue begin to push itself inside of you. It’s the strangest sensation, that despite the numbness, you can feel his thin, forked tongue move around inside of you, coating your walls in that thin, sticky substance that is his saliva. Just as he had numbed the space between your legs, this too he covers in venom. It reaches a point where you can no longer feel the movements of his tongue, and your body turns boneless against his tail, tired from resisting.

When he pulls away, long tongue no longer numbing your insides, you look down upon his body once again. You more closely inspect his two cocks, noticing quite a difference between the two. The second, lower one is quite thicker, its girth intimidating, maybe even downright frightening. The upper one is thinner, more human-like in size and shape. Though it is large by human standards, it is not as scary as the first one. But the thought of him using both on you, perhaps even at the same time, has your heart pumping out of your stomach. Numbness be damned.

“B-both of those?” You blurt out, eyes wide in fear as his body draws nearer to yours.

“Ah, no,” he tells you, to your relief. “First, eggs. Then, mating.”

Again, you struggle against the weight of his body. Words like “please” and “don’t” leave your lips but he has kept you here for this purpose alone—surely, he’s told you this before, hasn’t he? You’ve accepted his gifts, his foods, his care. He has done it all for you, the one who will help him sire his brood.

He uses the lower cock first, its girth stretching you impossibly wide. He is as gentle as he can be, pushing in slowly and watching for any signs of pain. He had taken his time numbing you, and it seems to have paid off—besides general discomfort, the anguishing stretch that he had expected (judging from his last experience, anyway) did not seem to bother you as much as he thought it would. Your eyes screw shut as he stuff you full with his cock, and as he waits for you to adjust to his full size, he feels the muscles in your thighs relax. The resistance of your upper body against his tail wanes.

“Good girl.”

The sweet tone of his voice makes you shudder. It’s almost unfair that a monster using you like this can be so handsome, can sound so reassuring. You feel him pull out halfway, just to push back in. His upper cock, the one not inside you, rubs against your clit, creating a devastatingly delicious friction. And you watch your belly as he thrusts again, a bump moving along in time with his thrusts.

Is that bump his cock?!

It is unbelievable that your body can even stretch that much to accommodate him. Your eyes follow in time with his thrusts, and though he starts slowly he builds up momentum steadily. When he glances down at where your union begins, he’s satisfied to see a sheen that can only be your wetness. He’s convinced your body wants his as desperately as he wants yours.

“Is this enjoyable?” He asks you, sweat forming at his temples.

You gasp when the head of his cock glides against your engorged clit once again. With the numbness, you cannot feel it, but he certainly can feel how you tighten around his cock in response. He groans.

“Yuutaaa,” you whine, the first time you’ve ever called him by name. He’s elated.

The base of his cock begins to swell.

You screw your eyes shut as he picks up speed, deep breaths and thick, pained grunts erupt from his throat. He sounds different, suddenly, and when you look down you realize why—his cock grows thicker, bumps that you presume are eggs pushing past your entrance.

“Wait—wait—” you beg, arms pushing desperately at the tail that weighs them down.

“I will give my eggs to you,” he tells you between ragged breaths. “This may hurt…”

The word hurt is a blatant misrepresentation of what happens next. His tongue had done a fantastic job of numbing your pussy for him, but it does nothing for your cervix. Yuuta grabs at your hips roughly, and pushes himself into you as deep as he will go. The base of his upper cock pressed hard against your clit, and you quite quickly orgasm all over his cock, squeezing quite tightly. And though you feel nothing but fullness around his cock inside you, your orgasm spurs on his own, his upper cock leaking onto your navel. His lower cock pushes against your cervix, and with pain so sharp it makes you cry out, multiple eggs push through into your womb. You lose count of how many, Yuuta biting at your shoulder, your neck, your jaw—anywhere and everywhere to distract you as he deposits into your womb. You’re not sure how long it goes on for, but when he pulls out, your body feels both full and weak, reeling from waves of pain both in your cervix and everywhere he’s bitten;

Yet, he is not finished.

He removes the lower cock and replaces it with the thinner upper one. You make no protest this time, letting him rut into your used cunt. He’s mumbling something against your throat, but with your body numbed and tired, you pay little attention to it.

Overstimulation takes hold as he continues to fuck you long after you’ve already come all over his cock. He bites onto your breast, fangs and all, leaving puncture wounds with every bite from your shoulder to your nipple.

How pretty you look under him, he thinks. He even hopes he’ll get another chance to do this with you, hopelessly infatuated with this little human he’d met only a week ago.

You helplessly spread your legs as wide as you can when he finishes inside you, coating your insides in his spend and inevitably fertilizing the eggs he’d placed inside you. And just like a snake would in the wild, his cock anchors itself inside you, twitching with the last bits of spend and keeping you locked onto his cock, not wasting even a drop. A weak, defeated moan leaves your lips as his cock stretches inside you once again, plugging you full.

“Yuuta…” you call for him weakly. His tail coils around you affectionately, his arms pulling your chest closer to his.

“You did so well… thank you,” he coos to your weary, sweaty body. “I’m glad I saved you.”

You vaguely wonder: if this is what being “saved” is, would being forsaken have been the better option?

So tired from the ordeal, you quickly succumb to sleep, not knowing the answer.

#fic library #jjk #okkotsu yuuta #wowowowowo🥵🥵🥵 #sooo good❤️🐍

[xmintpiex]

Sukuna’s little one is such a daddy’s girl.

She’s always with her dada. Clinging onto him everywhere he goes, practically attached to his shoulder as he has carries her around, especially since she refuses to go to anyone that’s not you or your husband.

A truly spoiled brat is what she was. Her antics knew no ends. She had taken a habit of strolling in the garden every morning with her dada, Sukuna having to slow down his steps to meet the strides of his little girls feet as she had barely learnt how to walk and clutched his kimono for support.

As if that wasn’t enough, she was taking after her dada in other aspects as well. Once she was seated on Sukuna’s lap, one of his arms protectively wrapped around her. The scene was a man cowering over in fear beneath Sukuna as he sat on his throne.

And the girl giggles.

He raises a brow to look at his daughter giggling at the sight of the poor man’s fear and smirks. “Why brat, you truly take after me.” He pats her head.

He shoos the man away instantly, “Scram while you can, I’m in a pleasant mood today.”

One day, when her beloved papa leaves for a few days, you notice her missing him incredibly. So you get a brilliant idea, “how about we prepare a little surprise for papa?”

The next week, Sukuna returns, and his first thoughts are to check on you and your baby girl, and she comes running straight to him. He doesn’t take a second to realize that the kimono she’s wearing is modeled after his.

“Dada!” She giggles and waddles to her father, almost tripping in the long garment. She hugs his leg with a soft pout, holding her arms up, “Up!” She demands.

He chuckles and holds her up, propping her comfortably in his arms, “you’re one cheeky brat, aren’t you?” She giggles, wrapping her small hands around his neck to hug him. He chuckles again, patting her back. “Someone missed me, huh?”

Naughty as she is (she has Sukuna’s genes, duh) she loves her pranks. Scaring the servants by sneaking up on them or hiding behind the walls. Of course, it was hard to act afraid of such a cute little girl but the servants pretended to be scared anyways. It makes Sukuna proud, even though you scold him for it.

She has also mastered the tool of emotional manipulation— puppy eyes. Sukuna groans as she gives the puppy eyes to him. You had restricted her access to sweets, but she was the boss around here.

“Fine brat.” He huffs, secretly assured that the puppy eyes are something she’d learnt from you. “You may have the mochi— just do not tell your mother about this.”

Well, let’s just say that mother got to know about this and that the dad and daughter duo were scolded thoroughly.

Regardless, Sukuna is beyond grateful to you for giving him this little bundle of blessing, even though he isn’t sure what he ever did to deserve such a thing. He has only ever felt the need to see to his pleasure, but when he sees you and his baby daughter, his heart swells with pride. He’d shred the world apart to protect you both.

#fic library #jjk #ryomen sukuna #soo cute omg <3

[xmintpiex]

Thinking about meeting Bakugou and Kirishima in the crowd of a concert, and during one of the slow songs the artist tells everyone to get on someone’s shoulders so Kirishima asks you whether you want to get on his shoulders and you tell him that it’s okay because you’re too heavy.

And then Bakugou gives you possibly the dirtiest look you’ve ever received in your life as he looks you up and down before handing his beer off to Kirishima as he doesn’t give you a choice as he bends down to slot his head between your thighs.

So you’re squealing because you’ve never been on someone’s shoulders before, and you’re certain you’re too heavy but Bakugou doesn’t quake as he holds you steady for the entire song. And after he puts you down so gently and takes his beer back off Kirishima like it was nothing🥺

#fic library #bnha #bakugo katsuki #kirishima eijirou #<3<3<3

[xmintpiex]

thinking about . . . god . . . the way geto suguru fucks your cunt because his cock is fatter, fills you up until you are on the brink of tears. gojo satoru fucks your mouth because you like how the length feels, how he bruises your throat and uses your mouth.

they have designated positions, but they always switch it up. tie satoru’s blindfold around your eyes and make you guess which cock is which — to which you always respond with ease, so they call you their little whore and fuck you into oblivion.

#fic library #jjk #geto suguru #gojo satoru #ughhhh <3<3<3

[xmintpiex]

cw. satoru calls you whore, male receiving oral

geto suguru who sits on the bed (legs spread open, fully dressed) as you sit at his feet, facing the other way and toward gojo satoru.

the latter is rubbing his tip around your lips, smearing his pre-cum on your mouth as his best friend cups your jaw with his big hands.

when gojo satoru shoves his cock down your throat, geto suguru laughs — moves his hands downward to your neck and feels satoru’s cock through your throat with his thumbs.

“swallow,” he commands and you obey — thighs shamelessly squeezing together at the order and the sounds satoru makes. “now,” suguru says, “say thank you, satoru.”

said man chuckles, takes his cock out of your mouth to let you speak.

“thank you, satoru.”

“ask him to fill you up. beg him.” suguru says.

“please, satoru, i’m begging you — please cum in my mouth.”

“good fuck,” satoru groans, holds onto your head before shoving his cock into your mouth. “you’re such a little whore, huh?”

you try to nod, cunt squeezing around nothing as suguru caresses the sides of your face and indulges his best friend by rubbing your throat, satoru’s cock.

“i-i’m all yours.” you choke out.

#fic library #jjk #geto suguru #gojo satoru #wrowwww #luv

[xmintpiex]

Atsumu "do you think we're brothers in every universe?" vs Osamu "God, I hope not"

#haikyuu #<3 #miya atsumu #miya osamu

[xmintpiex]

single dad kamo choso who feels like he knows you exceptionally well because his daughter will not stop talking about you — her favorite teacher ever, the most fun person she knows (which manages to hurt both him and her uncle yuuji a tiny little bit)

single dad kamo choso who, when he meets you for the first time in a parent-teacher conference, understands what the buzz is about — your smile is soft, your eyes warm, your personality fun (and the fact that you’re gorgeous is a bonus)

single dad kamo choso who learns that his daughter is always saying see you later, alligator because of you (which he finds incredibly cute)

single dad kamo choso who takes a chance when he sees you at the grocery store and asks if you would like to get coffee some time — to which you agree to, with a smile that’s unlike your others and eyes filled with excitement

single dad kamo choso who thinks he’s falling in love with you when he cups your face in his warm hand, your face cold from the harsh wind, and leans down to plant a kiss on your lips as the two of you stand on the porch of your home

#fic library #jjk #kamo choso #aww🥰 #<3<3<3

[xmintpiex]

okay questionable thoughts… Hybrid Tiger Sukuna… But… what if we gave him catnip? Cus I’ve seen videos of it working on tigers and I’m a bit cray cray-

Oh nooo!!! This drives me all kinds of FERAL!! I wrote the following in a horny daze lmaoo. I would give so much to be Tiger Hybrid Sukuna's owner who gets that gorgeous tiger-cock ;) Thank you so much for sending me this!!

Tiger Hybrid!Sukuna x Reader (female). 18+, smut, rough sex, creampie, mentions of breeding + risk of pregnancy if reader gives Sukuna more catnip in the future, dubcon on both sides, drugs. Minors don't interact. Divider @/hitobaby

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who is usually so in control, acting all aloof and majestic. But you give him catnip, and he loses all that control. You thought it would be cute to see him loosen up and become more playful, but you didn't expect him to become so wild.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who tackles you to the floor with a needy growl. Who presses you down with his heavy body, his large tail swishing from side to side excitedly, his pupils blown wide, his hot spit dripping down onto your neck. And his large bulge growing hard against your ass.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who loses his ability to talk in the state he is in now and just growls and purrs while he nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling your scent deeply, his lips and tongue and sharp canines leaving their marks on your skin while he ruts against you, needy like never before.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who scares you a bit when he goes crazy like that. This big, strong half-tiger, with those strong muscles and the sharp teeth and claws. And with that huge, strong cock. But your fear mixes with arousal, and you find yourself hoping your tiger will claim you thoroughly tonight.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who isn't even in the right mind to undress you but just tears at his and your clothes, ripping them to shreds in his primal need to mount you.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who pushes his hot, fat cock between your wet cunt, coating himself in your arousal, grunting and growling wildly against your neck while he ruts his throbbing tiger-cock against your heated cunt.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who bites your neck when he pushes his leaking cock into your dripping cunt, groaning loudly against your skin, instantly starting a punishing rough pace of fucking you. Mounting you so wild and hard right there on the floor.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who is so sexy like that, out of control, wild and feral like never before. More animal than man. Who snaps his hips fast and erratically, purely driven by his animal instinct to fuck and breed and fill a mate with his potent seed.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who holds you down and keeps his teeth on your neck while he fucks all his tiger-cum deep into you. Growling loudly while he mates you as if you are his fertile tigress.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who makes you lose control, too, pushing your ass needily against him, wanting all his hot seed and the feel of his heavy balls slapping against you. Making you squeal loudly when you cum all over his fat tiger-cock.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who pulls out of you with a low groan and then kneels on the floor behind you with a blissed-out expression on his beautiful face, not as feral anymore but still high on the catnip. His gorgeous cock softening but still glistening with your creamy juices and his milky seed, his dark pink tip still swollen.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, whose whole muscular body trembles lightly as the effects of the catnip wear off. Whose long, pretty tail is twitching suddenly when those glowing red eyes bore into yours with a dangerous glint in them.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who growls at you, "Never do that again!" And when you ask him why, he glares at you and is like, "Because who knows what I'll do next time. Maybe I'll breed you until you have my cubs."

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who calms down again when you tell him you are ok, and he didn't hurt you. Who finally purrs when you scratch him behind his ears and at the base of his pretty tiger tail and promise him that you won't give him catnip ever again, even though you quite enjoyed his wild side.

#fic library #jjk #ryomen sukuna #yumm #<3<3<3