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𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. — ♡

♡ part of the ukai nation sugar daddy collab ♡

summary: oikawa’s willing to give you anything your heart desires so long as you stay by his side. a/n: god…it’s carter again…manifesting this into my life <3 contains: sugar daddy!oikawa x f!reader, daddy kink, panty sniffing, threats of baby trapping/breeding, oral sex (f receiving), implied large age gap w/c: 3.3k+

The penthouse felt so cold. That was your first thought the very first time you stepped inside your new boyfriend’s home…if you could call it that. Despite Tooru having said he’d lived here for a few years now, it didn’t look lived in at all. Minimalistic furniture was scattered here and there, maybe an art piece or two on the walls that you were almost positive someone else had picked out for him. It looked expensive, sure, but it felt so cold. But at the time, all you had done was twist and tell him how wonderful you thought it was, watching the warm smile cross the retired athlete’s face as he watched his favorite girl react to something so luxurious. 

When he’d first approached you at your workplace your mouth had gone dry, eyes trying desperately to drink in every inch of him without being too obvious. You instead smiled, helped him with an issue, and watched as he left- quick to tell all your coworkers and friends about this hot guy who came in that day. It was about a week later that he’d returned, clearly scanning the building until he saw you standing there- catching you in the act of staring, yourself. Once his eyes met yours he gave a warm smile and came over, requesting your help once more. 

Keep reading

YOU HAVE (1) NEW REQUEST FROM @ITADORI YUUJI . . .

WANNA PLAY SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN?

➤ seven minutes in heaven series masterlist.

NEW MESSAGE @WARNINGS : f! reader, college!au, frat party / exhibitonism, aged up!characters, jock / quarterback!itadori, he is the sweetest best boy, alcohol mention, gojo cameo, cream pies, pussy drunk yuuji, unprotected sex, pussy eating, minor marking.

(1) ATTACHMENT @WC : est. 5.5k

NEW MESSAGE FROM EMMIE @GAROUJO : hello ! ! it’s been a week or two since the last update for this series but i was feeling v unmotivated — but ‘ts back n i hope u enjoy this <3

“pssst—so you’re coming, right?”

the sudden interruption to your note taking makes you jump slightly, raising your head to lock eyes with itadori who is so obviously turned round in his seat to lean across your desk, and you can tell by the stupidly cute pout on his lips that he thinks he’s being quiet.

“coming where?” you hum, you know he’s talking about the frat party on friday — it’s all anybody had been talking about all week. your college football team have a game on friday that you know they’ll win and then the whole school will celebrate at the frat, it was tradition at this point.

but you still feign ignorance because you haven’t had enough time to come up with an excuse to not go yet.

“to the party! you’ll come right, please? it’s not fun if you’re not there, you said you’d cheer for me at the game too.” yuuji replies, enthusiastically and the whispers that he seems to think are leaving his lips are only growing louder with each word.

“i don’t know.. i might be busy.” you grumble, trying so hard to avoid his bright gaze while you scribble down whatever comes to mind — a whole load of stuff that doesn’t make sense while you think of a real excuse because you know that won’t cut it.

“hey, come onnn. you’re lying.” yuuji whines, playfully shuffling at your paper so you’ll look up at him and you regret it immediately when you notice the way his lips are jutted out, in addition to the wide eyes he’s sending you so shamelessly — is he really using puppy dog eyes to get you to go to a frat party?

“please! you can come with me and fushiguro, we can go together—“

“itadori! are you even listening?” your teacher finally hisses, narrowing their eyes at the back of the class which unfortunately includes you also.

“sorry, sensei~” yuuji calls back, but he turns round to pout at you again before he faces forward. “you gotta come okay.”

but unfortunately, like most of the school, you had a soft spot for the quarterback— he was different from the usual douchebags you would expect, the ones in the movies who break hearts and have you swearing to never love again.

itadori yuuji wasn’t like that. he was athletic, your typical jock with rippling muscles and a varsity jacket, bubbly, goofy and in shape. he didn’t do great in studies but he tried and with what he lacked in general knowledge he made up for with spirit.

he knew every one of his classmates by name and stood up for them against bullies (even the ones on his team), he was charming in a sense — like when he’d get flustered after confidently answering a question wrong or when he’d make playful jokes with your teacher back and forth, there was a natural charm to him that made you want to know him.

and you did, you don’t know how it happened — his seat was right infront of yours in class, he’d made a habit of collecting papers for two whenever it came to handouts and if he was ever having trouble with a question, he’d much sooner turn round to ask you than stay behind. you wouldn’t call you guys best friends by any means but what you had felt nice, you walked with him to practice on wednesdays because you went that way home and he invited you to games — always shooting you a bright sort of grin through his helmet whenever he noticed you in the stands.

which makes it even harder to avoid him even after class, because it is unfortunately a wednesday and you’re standing at your desk, packing your things away while said quarterback rambles to you about all the reasons you should come to the party on saturday. his pleas don’t even falter when he’s expectantly grabbing your bag from you and slinging it over the shoulder opposite his own as you both leave, making your way down the hallway that’s now mostly clear from students despite a few stragglers.

“i was being serious, you can come with me and fushiguro! he hates parties but even he’s coming.” yuuji smiles in earnest, you’re honestly surprised that he’s even convinced fushiguro to go — him hating parties was definitely true but you’re pretty sure hes had to deal with the exact same loveable jock that you are right now, so you also can’t really blame him for giving in — most likely just so he’d stop going on about it.

“i don’t want people to think i’m following you both around.” you argue, but there’s no real annoyance to your tone when you nudge into his side — trying and failing to playfully knock his well trained body even a little off balance.

“they won’t think that cause we’re friends, right? it’ll be fun. even gojo and geto will be there and you know them too. i want you to come.” the blushy haired jock next to you grumbles and there’s a real honesty in his tone despite it being spoken through a smile.

although you find yourself mentally cursing the warmth that blooms along your skin when you finally turn to look at him, painted in a warm hue by the swirls of amber in the sky and you feel yourself soften when you realise that yuuji’s eyes were already on you.

but any tension pooling in your mind is quickly broken with a hopeful grin followed by a see you tomorrow and a pat on your shoulder, watching yuuji hand you your bag before he runs to practice and you can’t help the exasperated sigh that falls from your lips when the silence finally settles after he’s gone.

you’re aware your soft spot for the quarterback was probably just as much of a curse as it was a blessing, because now, that same bright grin is staring back at you while you stand in the kitchen during the very frat party that you were trying to avoid — just because itadori had insisted through the remaining days before that he wouldn’t have any fun if you didn’t come.

the atmosphere at the party is as you expected, there’s students littered around the fraternity — an ocean of red cups and gossip, places like this were breeding grounds for rumours and drama.

but you’re with itadori and megumi so you don’t really care, leaning against the kitchen counter and too preoccupied with yuuji’s enthuastic rant about the game while the bass thumps through the walls. but his eyes are on you and his gaze is just as warm as the humid air around you.

although just before he can ask you if you were cheering for him like he was hoping you were, he’s interrupted by a familiar drawl.

“oh? you really came.” you hear a smooth tone echo from behind you, the ragged sound pulling you from your hazed mind before it’s followed by an arm being hooked over your shoulder and you’re being pulled against a hard chest.

“so itadori really convinced you, huh.” satoru hums from where he’s got both you and megumi in some form of makeshift hug, although it feels more like a chokehold given his stature and the way you’re both swaying to look up at him.

“quit it, satoru.” geto sounds from behind him, sighing before hes shifting to stand next to him to send you all a kind-hearted sort of grin - one thats vaguely different from the menacing one on his white-haired counterparts lips, who chooses to ignore his interruption.

“you guys are just in time, we need you for the game. you’re in, right?” satoru goads, but you notice that the smirk on his lips is a lot more devilish than the ones you’ve seen before. even when you make a curious sound, you can see the way his crystalline eyes reflect amusement when he looks at you. he was always one for joking around, more times than not he had you laughing — mostly at him, but his words felt different this time.

you’re not surprised when you watch itadori send him a starry-eyed glance, but there’s a certain thickness in the air that you’re pretty sure goes completely over the loveable jock’s head when the next thing you know, the three of you find yourself squished together on an old worn couch in the living room.

satoru’s situated himself in the middle of the room, like a sort of game-master you guess you’d call him — expected considering he was one of the oldest in the frat, listening to him list out the rules to a game that you’re more than familiar with, and now you understand the sort of amusement that was present in his smirk earlier.

you should’ve known you’d made a mistake as soon as your eyes met his and the soft light was glinting off the playfulness in his gaze, ending up with you being roped into going first — which surprisingly seemed to pull an almost uncomfortable shuffle from itadori at your side as his thigh bumps yours.

“hey, you okay?” yuuji smiles, his voice low and barely audible but he knows that you hear him — his attention taken with you so casually when your face twists to meet him at the sound, but his question is appreciated and heartfelt.

you nod when you look at him and he blinks quickly at the sudden close proximity before you’re turning to face the room again with a sigh.

but itadori’s gaze is still on you while satoru’s giving you a hooded look thats entirely too perceptive for your liking, a smirk curling at his lips as his brows arch from over his glasses and he’s spinning the empty beer bottle that’s lying in the middle of the floor with a quick twist of his wrist.

you were fine atleast, until that same bottle lands on a man who has bile turning in your stomach when he shoots you a smirk that’s thick with desire, dark and expectant. you didn’t know him, but you knew of him and he was the kind of person who you’d rather smack than be locked in a closet with, especially alone.

he was a playboy and a loser, you’d only ever seen him trailing behind satoru and itadori — kissing their ass and sucking up to the rest of the team, or drooling all over women who definitely did not want him. he was a sleaze and a douchebag, and before he even has the chance to move you’re already curling back against the couch.

“not happening.” you hiss, fingers squeezing against your thighs when you narrow your eyes at satoru, and you watch him raise a brow at you before he’s rising to his feet.

“you agreed to the game, princess.” the white-haired male shrugs, although you can even see the sorry distaste on his features when he notices the hungry grin on the other bastards. but just as your mouth opens to protest a second time, you feel a strong arm wrap around your middle before you’re pulled to your feet.

“i’ll do it, gojo-senpai.” yuuji grunts from beside you, curling his arm around you to press you protectively against his chest and there’s a burning hot rush of blood under your skin where his thick fingers grip at the dip of your waist. “there isn’t a rule against it, right?”

the frown on his face seems almost unnatural when you tilt your head back further to look at him, unfamiliar given the smile you were normally used to, but when you feel his hands squeeze at your restless figure you still can’t help but feel safe. you watch the gears turning in satoru’s mind at yuuji’s outburst though, shooting a glance at suguru from over his shoulder before his dark haired friend shrugs and he’s sighing with a click of his tongue, failing to hide the soft smirk of amusement that’s twitching at the corners of his lips.

“i’ll allow it, yuuji-kun. just you kids behave, yeah?” he drawls and you hadn’t realised your heart was racing until those words leave gojo’s lips and you’re squeezing yourself closer into your.. saviour of sorts, before you’re both ushered down the hall and thrown into a darkened-closet by the same white-haired upperclassman.

but you don’t fail to notice that itadori’s arm never left your figure, even as you strolled down the halls or when you both crowded into the equally small closet — it feeling even smaller giving his broad physique, even now his fingers on your waist were still present and grounding— a feeling you could quickly find yourself yearning for.

“i’m sorry you got roped into this.” you speak first into the shadowy darkness of the small space, the soft light glinting prettily off of yuuji’s eyes when he meets your gaze, and you know you probably look as awkward as you feel when your fingers trace along the lettering on his varsity jacket. but he still grins before he squeezes your waist — like a sort of reassuring touch, like he knows you need it.

“hey! i volunteered you know, and well i was kinda hoping it would be me anyway.. but that guy really sucks.” yuuji’s grinning, a little flushed in the face but you put it down to the stuffiness of the closet rather than anything else when you blink up at him. but you watch him scratch at the back of his neck with another grin when his words finally sink in and you're casting him a wide-eyed glance.

“what did you say?” you reply quickly, something unfamiliar curling down your spine as your hands twist nervously in the fabric of his shirt — fingertips grazing the sharply carved planes of muscle underneath and part of you wants to explore more at the first, almost intimate touch.

“huh? that guy sucks. he’s really mean to girls and it’s always made me mad, even gojo-senpai doesn’t like hi—“ yuuji taps at his chin, his eyes never leaving yours before you cut him off again.

“no before that.” you gape, feeling your fingertips against his chest again when he hums and thinks back to a few moments ago before he’s smiling again.

“oh! i was kinda hoping it would be me anyway.” he grins in earnest, his tone never once faltering and there’s a sincerity to the way he pats down the curve of your spine. “why?” you swallow, and the atmosphere in the closet suddenly feels stuffy with the question.

“because i like you.” itadori answers, voice unwavering, again, and you don’t know if the tingling in your skin is embarrassment or desire when you flutter your eyes back up to meet his and notice the sudden heaviness that stares back.

he doesn’t look nervous at first glance but his hand almost trembles along your back when you press closer against his front, feeling the way his heart is pounding against your palm as his broad chest expands with every exhale he takes, and if you looked closely you’d be able to make out the slight dusting of pink on his ears underneath the soft curl of his hair.

“yuuji, um—“ you start, laughing quietly in disbelief and you watch itadori’s eyes glance down at your lips before he’s swallowing dryly and hugging you closer, “i mean like really like, that’s why i like seeing you cheer for me at games and that’s why i asked you to wear my jacket, even though you said no..”

the last few words of his sentence are said through a pout but when you find yourself patting at his chest at his confession, you watch an earnest, bright grin curl at his lips before he’s sending you a vulnerable sort of look that’s is so handsomely unfair.

“i—just didn’t think of it like that.” you breath, a whispery sort of tone to your voice and you watch itadori’s eyes jump over your features before you hear him gulp and take a nervous breath. but a hardened look of determination comes over him as his cheeks flush deeper, and his fingers twitch against your skin when your hand comes up to rest against his cheek — encouraging him to lean closer.

“would you take it now?” he asks, words almost an exhale across your lips and you don’t realise just how close you’ve become, until you feel itadori’s heart kicking against his impressive chest under your palm. “yes.” you answer quickly, and the closet suddenly feels stuffier when his wide eyes jump from yours to your lips before he’s grazing them with his own.

he’s a little distracted once he sees just how pretty you are up close, so you decide to take matters into your own hands when you twist your hands into the fabric of his shirt — pulling him in for a kiss that feels natural despite how he stiffens at first.

but when itadori feels the way your lips press against his, it’s like something dangerous snaps in his self control and suddenly your body is thumping against the wood of the wall, his hands gripping tightly at your hips as he licks messily into your mouth, drinking you up and groaning at the first, wet glide of your tongue along his.

you curl your arms around his neck as you croak his name, noticing the way his eyes are screwed shut as he pins you to the hard wood behind you, feeling you wiggle against him and he groans before his warmth leaves you.

itadori is breathing hard when he pulls away suddenly, pupils blown wide as they scan over your features with parted lips and desperate pants. “fuck, i’m sorry, is—is this okay?” he gasps and you’ve never answered faster than when you rasp out a yes, kissing him fiercely as he grinds against you — large palms roaming along the new dips of your figure he’s yet to explore until you’re mewling against his panting mouth and hitching your leg around his waist.

“can i touch you? p-please..” it’s messy, rushed the question as you feel him smear spit along your chin as his mouth moves, but he doesn’t pull away — if he had a choice, he never would given how breathless and eager he feels.

“please, yuuji! i want you.” itadori feels blood rush to his thick cock at the breathless plea, his dark jeans suddenly feeling tighter as his arms leave you — in favour of almost tearing off his varsity jacket to throw it on the floor, and you feel your world shift suddenly when your back is pressing against the thick fabric after as you both hit the ground.

“needed you s-so bad, for you so long.” he purrs, voice cracking under the heavy weight of his desire and arousal as his big body pushes its way between your thighs, and you feel dizzy when you melt under the weight of him, letting him rut desperately into you like an animal.

he’s absolutely enamoured by you, panting as he smears kisses along your jawline — sucking at your neck as his hips rub and grind into yours, groaning when he feels you grab at his broad shoulders with each press of his lips.

you feel one of itadori’s rough, strong palms stroke down your thighs — pushing your skirt around your waist as he continues to press kisses along your skin, igniting your nerves along the way as you twist, looking down to meet his wild eyes as he crawls down your body — pushing your shirt up to suckle pink, blooming marks against the skin.

“you’re s-so pretty, ‘s this okay? want you, fuck.” there’s a carnal drop in his tone, a low lull and you feel the sound vibrate against your skin before he’s pulling away with a wet pop — trembling hands moving to quickly pull down your panties only when he hears you gasp out another yes, followed by a tentative swipe of his fingers along your already embarrassingly slick pussy.

itadori smears kisses down your hips, spit coating your thighs before he’s lifting your weak legs over his shoulders — panting like a dog when he gets his first glimpse of your pretty pussy and he lets out a wrecked groan, low and long before he’s immediately shoving his face between your thighs, taking a long taste of your cunt.

your back arches at the sudden stimulation when you feel his tongue flatten against your clit, but it only takes a few seconds before his muscled forearms are keeping you pinned beneath his huge body, your hips twitching as you cry out for him — grabbing at the blush strands of his hair before your thighs and lungs tremble on your next inhale.

everything about how he eats you out is messy and itadori feels lost in his own pleasure as he loses himself in your addictive cunt, the taste feels like fucking heaven on his tongue and he moans; ragged and hungry when his hips instinctively rut into the carpet below him, the sudden stimulation on his heavy, leaking cock causing a pleasured vibration to rumble through your clit.

every swipe of his tongue feels like it sends bliss racing through you, arousal pooling dangerously in your stomach as your eyes prick with pleasured tears — his pace never eases and you feel like you can barely breathe as he showers you in strong licks, panting warm along your glistening folds when he pulls away to admire the way your slick shines when it’s mixed with his spit.

it’s embarrassing how quickly you feel your orgasm, the sight of itadori’s huge frame humping the floor between your thighs as he loses himself in your taste only making it approach faster. you feel his nose knock against your clit as he smacks lewdly, feeling your warm walls flex around his thick tongue when he dips it past your fluttering hole. he’s panting and fucked out, and you’re pretty sure the lower half of his face and cheeks are soaked as you feel your arousal pool onto his jacket below you.

he feels so fucking good, and you feel lost in a dizzy dream when you meet his heavy gaze once more, watching the muscles of his back move through the tight fabric of his white shirt — you would never have thought that your college’s loveable quarterback ate pussy like it was his first meal in days, but you think the realisation might just make you like him even more when you feel his lips close around your clit to suckle lightly.

you feel something dangerous spark along your nerves when his huge palms rock you against his mouth, reducing you to pretty pants and babbles of his name before he’s pulling away with a long whine that makes it sound like it physically hurt him to pull away from you.

“p-please—don’t cum yet, can you make you feel even better—fuck, i gotta feel your pussy ‘round me, baby.” itadori moans, voice tight with need as he rips his belts and pants open — messily tossing them down his thighs until he’s groaning at the sudden freedom from the loss of the restrictive fabric.

even in the darkness of the old closet you can see the thick curve of him in his boxers, he’s huge and you can almost see the way it twitches with carnal need — not that your surprised with how impressive he is. but it only makes your mouth water when you watch him pull down the final layers of fabric between you, the throbbing, silky curve of his cock grazing along your thighs as he looms over you with a growl, letting his cock drag through the messy, glistening folds of your cunt.

“do you think you can take it, baby? i know you’re gonna take it s-so well. oh so fuckin’ good.” itadori chokes, wide eyes meeting yours and your lips part to sound out a sweet uh-huh when his swollen head catches under the hood of your clit, your legs squeezing around him impatiently before he’s breathing hard through clenched teeth and reaching down to grip around the base.

your mouth drops open to moan when you feel him rub against your clit, hips twitching up wildly and needy as you chase the stimulation and he feels so fucking dizzy at the way you moan for him — shameless and uncut and he’s all but forgotten you’re both about to fuck on his varsity jacket, that’s spread out on the floor of some gross frat closet.

the next swipe of his cock through your folds presses it against your twitching hole and itadori tries so hard to keep his eyes on you through the pleasure when he finally sinks in. but you’re so fucking warm and tight, and the way your fisting at his shirt makes an almost animalistic growl vibrate through his chest as you twitch at the thick spread and he’s pulling you in for a sweet kiss — a contrast to the way he’s bullying his cock into your tight cunt.

“too big, yuuji—ah!” you moan brokenly against his lips and itadori can’t help the pride that swells in his chest as his eyes flutter, his grip dragging you across the floor as he pushes himself deeper into the desperate hug of your walls, shushing you as his teeth drag along your bottom lip.

“but you take me so well, baby—fuck, feel so good. you’re doing s-soo good.” he growls and groans like a man possessed with a slow, wet withdrawal of his cock, rolling it back into you a little each time as your pussy squelches lewdly and his hips press tight against your hips with another mewl.

you can barely breathe with how deep it feels like itadori reaches, the pleasurable sting making the room below you spin before you’re caught off guard with the first harsh smack of his hips between your thighs — the sudden quick pace fitting for someone with such an athletic prowess as you dig your nails into his broad back just to keep yourself grounded.

every wet withdrawal of his hips is so fucking loud and each deep thrust of his cock feels like it reaches even deeper as you a moan of his name kicks from your throat, your desperate attempts at keeping quiet being fucked out of your mind with the way your body is crumbling under each of his thrusts, your orgasm already so close as you hear him babble, wet against your cheek.

“never wanna stop..hnnn, you feel so good. need—shit, need more, wanna feel you, baby.” itadori growls against your skin, and you can hear all his need and want for you in the way he moans your name with each exhale — grabbing at your body like he’s afraid you’ll disappear as he splits you open beneath him.

his eyes are hooded when he looks at you, pink hair smeared along the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead as he presses deep into your body — blunt head of his thick cock pressing against the swollen spots inside of you and all you can do is take it. your voice bounces of the walls of the small, darkened closet as you pant and lilt your head back — clawing red marks down the ivory skin on itadori’s back.

it’s almost inhumane the way his quick, intense pace grows heavier — your body jolting beneath him as he digs his cock up inside of your pussy, the bruising grip he has on your hips being the only thing keeping you underneath him or else you would’ve bounced rignt off with each heavy, wet connection of his hips — driven by the brute strength in his muscled body.

your orgasm hits you suddenly, so hard and good that it almost hurts and your toes curl as your fingers move to grab at itadori’s hair, trembling and clawing at his biceps with the other as you cream around his cock. but he doesn’t stop, not when you’re panting and gasping with each shockwave of bliss below him — the vibration of his groans echoing somewhere deep in his chest as his cock thickens inside of your soaked cunt.

“please, baby—lemme give y-you my cum, will look so good. let me, baby.. fuck, gotta hear you say it.” he slurs and you hiccup before you’re moaning out another needy yes, tightening your thighs around his waist in the hopes it’ll keep him trapped inside.

but itadori’s pace stutters at the first too tight, milking compression of your walls, gritting his teeth with a surprised grunt when his jaw clenches and his eyes watch more cream pool around the base of his thick cock, your walls throbbing with every unforgiving push of his hips.

then he looks at you as he cums thick and heavy inside of you with a long, agonised groan, you’re underneath him and fuck—you’re so pretty. his classmate who sits behind him in class and who he walks to practice with on wednesdays — who cheers for him at games and looks so fucking ethereal when they’re cumming around his cock, he’d fucking dreamed of a moment like this.

it’s addictive, you’re addictive, itadori thinks when he pushes his thick load into your tight cunt, babbling out curses and praises as they curl down your skin while he pins you completely. his primitive instincts take over as he continues to fuck into your messy, sensitive pussy until you’re both spent and a mixture of your cum is smeared along your thighs, only following it with a few shallow thrusts to accommodate the thick rush of cum he unloads inside of your puffy walls.

“baby, you with me? does it hurt?” you finally hear him mumble against your cheek, pressing his lips to the skin after as he kisses you back to him, back to where he’s got you pinned to the closet floor while his fingers massage at the probably soon to be bruises on your hips.

you blink slow, hazy before you’re looking up at where itadori is still looming over you, he’s flushing deep as he catches his breath but he’s still quick to scoop you up into his chest — making sure he’s not hurt you as he looks at you with a pouty, sleepy expression.

“yuuji.” you whisper, throat dry and raspy but you watch him smile as he holds you delicately, a hard contrast to his rough grip a few moments ago as he gives you puppy dog eyes.

“you’re alive, baby! you scared me, did i hurt you? you’re okay?” he asks again and there’s a tenderness to his words when they’re not spoken through his usual bright grin. but you look at him again before you’re smiling and snuggling into his strong shoulder.

“i’m okay, it was so good.” you sigh, shaking slightly when itadori pulls you to stand with him — supporting the trembling of your thighs with a strong arm around your waist before he’s grimacing as he picks up his jacket, sending you another cute pout before you’re both laughing at the cum and other fluids that’s soaked into the fabric.

“awww, does that mean you won’t wear it, baby?” yuuji whines, and you smile again before you let him curl you against his chest — pulling you in for a kiss that’s slow, but still a little messy as he presses you close and you let yourself pull him even closer for a moment, not ready for it to be over yet as you wind your arms around his neck.

he squeezes you to pull away, only to help you clumsily smooth down your clothes, making you both look semi-presentable. “does this mean you’ll go on a date with me?” he grins and you scratch your fingers through his still slightly damp hair as his hands smooth along your sides and he tilts his head at you.

“first you gotta clean your jacket so i can finally wear it.” you reply quickly and the sound seems to make itadori’s smile stretch even wider, but just as he leans in again, your lips parting when his brush against them —the door of the closet is abruptly torn open.

“there you are, yuuji-kun! how was the confession?” satoru drawls but his hazy eyes reflect an unfiltered, knowing sort of amusement when they look over your disheveled appearances. but it’s just as charming as it always is when you watch itadori flock to the older student, big warm hands resting on your hips to keep you wrapped up in him.

you listen to them ramble, trying to ignore the teasing gaze of both gojo and geto as they drawl and hum their words — wigging their brows at you when itadori tells them ( while missing a few details ) about how he needs to wash his jacket before you wear it. but your attention is quickly stolen from a certain dark haired, disgusted looking fushiguro from where he appears next to itadori.

“you’re both gross.”

© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

off the record

❝ go ahead and ask your questions, but i want you to ride my thigh while you do. ❞

PAIRING ▸ johnny suh x fem!reader 

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, crack, college au, sports au, journalist au, fuckbuddies to lovers

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, sexual tension, lots of teasing and flirty banter, smut (this is so self indulgent), dirty talk, oral sex (fem. receiving), squirting, orgasm denial, praise, kinda degradation, thigh riding, fingering, sex in front of a mirror, steamy scene in a shower, johnny is actually very soft, alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs, ft. annoying best friends chenle, jisung, and mark

SUMMARY ▸ when you get the biggest scoop on one of the sports teams, you’re determined to get in on the front page of the school newspaper. unfortunately, your only lead is the basketball team’s captain, johnny suh, and not only is he a tough nut to crack, but he’s also a little too good at distracting you.

PLAYLIST ▸ good intentions by rini • thinkin bout you by katie

WORD COUNT ▸ 12737 words

TAG LIST ▸ @leeknowsredeyeliner @geniejunn @huangberryyy @greasywall @sehunniepot @yasmini24 @gomjohnny @vantxx95 @jenoxygen @wasssuhjohnny @sadgirlroo @commentgirl @dreamycomets @sokkigarden @nohuyck @epiphany-beom @nachotequilaqueso @chitaphrrrr (+ dunk shot! tag list at the end)

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so much for supporting this series !! this one took a while but it was so fun to write. part of the dunk shot! series but it can be read separately ♡ hope you enjoy !!

ACCORDING TO SOCRATES, YOU WERE POISON TO A STUDENT ATHLETE.

The so-called Socrates in question, named Zhong Chenle, had once told you that if he wasn’t your best friend, he would hate your guts. In the sports world, jocks and journalists didn’t seem to get along very well. Flattered, you responded to your dear friend with your middle finger.

Chenle considered himself real smart, even going as far as to compare himself to one of the greatest philosophers (hence, the nickname Socrates you deemed upon him). Yet, with this vast amount of supposed intelligence, your best friend still couldn’t seem to figure out why you were hovering around Johnny Suh like a fruit fly.

“He knows about the steroid scandal,” you explained calmly. “I just want to find out what he’s hiding.”

Zhong Chenle’s brain decided to translate this into: “I am madly in love with Johnny Suh,” so now, your stupid best friend was convinced that you had the biggest crush on the basketball team’s captain.

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the little things

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Medic!Reader Synopsis: Five times Soap questions the relationship between Ghost and the 141's Medic, and the one time he gets an answer. Word Count: 2.9k Warnings: mentions of blood, mild swearing Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters.

part two.

The first time is purely by accident. 

It’s not like he’s trying to eavesdrop; it isn’t his fault the infirmary doors were left wide open, and it doesn’t seem like you and Ghost are trying to be quiet. Price called everyone for a meeting in twenty and, since the infirmary’s on the way, Soap figures he’d swing by and grab you. He’s walking towards the doors, paying attention to nothing in particular, when your unmistakable laugh echoes into the hallway. Soap stumbles slightly, caught off guard by the sudden noise. 

Someone’s enjoying themselves, he thinks. He’s almost six steps from the door when you laugh again, this time followed by the deep timbre of a familiar voice that makes Soap stop in his tracks.

Price was the one who had brought you onto the team, but it was supposedly Ghost who had recommended you. “Only medic I ever met who actually knew what they were doing,” he had said. Apparently the two of you had previously worked on multiple missions together, and that was made obvious by the way you two worked flawlessly around each other with an efficiency that could only have been cultivated through a deep trust and years of teamwork. 

Soap slowly approaches, all his stealth training coming to the forefront as he leans next to the door and focuses in on what you’re saying.

“It’ll only take a day, two tops. I promise.” Soap can hear the smile in your voice. Glancing at the glass panes of the doors, he can just make out your reflection. You’re standing beside an empty bed, behind an overbed table that’s covered in papers, leaning on your elbows to smile widely up at Ghost as he stands against the wall on the opposite side of the bed looking wholly unimpressed. 

“You want me to spend an entire day sitting in the corner and watching you give everyone on base flu shots?” 

“No, I’m asking if you’ll sit in the corner and look intimidating while I give everyone on base flu shots. The “look intimidating” part’s important,” you speak matter-of-factly. 

“I’ve seen you amputate a man’s leg at the knee mid-combat. You’re telling me you can’t handle a few shots by yourself?”

Soap makes a note to ask about that story later. 

“I can handle myself just fine, thank you. It’s everyone else that’s the problem here.” Ghost blinks at you, seemingly not believing you. “I get it, you’re all big, tough guys who face death every day-” Soap sinks his teeth into his cheek to fight back a laugh as you try to lower your voice in a very poor imitation of Ghost, “-but the way some of these guys act, you’d think I was coming at them with some kind of medieval torture device. I just think-” “That’d be a first.”

“-If I had someone that everyone respects, and is a little bit afraid of, sitting nearby then they’d stop with the whining and I can get my job done faster.” 

There’s a long pause as you and Ghost stand locked into a staring contest. Soap swears that, for a moment, something like amusement crosses Ghost’s eyes. 

“You think people are only a little afraid of me?” Ghost asks, tilting his head ever-so-slightly. You let out a loud, exaggerated scoff, throwing your hands up.

“Fine! Go lurk in a dark corner and scare children, or whatever it is you do, instead of helping me. Just don’t be surprised if I’m suddenly out of painkillers the next time you get shot.” You’re facing away from him, pouting like a child with your arms crossed over your chest. Both Soap and Ghost know you don’t mean it, your flawless reputation is too important to you, but Ghost sighs and nods anyways.

“Just tell me what days-” Ghost is barely done talking when you’re spinning around, nearly knocking the table over.

“Really?”

“Whatever will get you to stop being a brat.” Like water off a duck’s back, the insult runs right off of you as you clap your hands together. “Now, come on. Don’t want to be late to Price’s meeting.” Ghost pushes himself off the wall as you shuffle your scattered papers into organized piles to look through later. Soap leans back, taking a few quiet steps back from the door as you and Ghost start to leave the infirmary. 

“Hold on, one sec.” Soap pauses as he hears your hurried footsteps, looking back to your reflection in the glass. Eyes widening, his jaw drops as he watches Ghost let you grab his arm and push yourself up onto your toes to place a quick kiss to the cheekbone of the larger man’s plated skull mask. “Thank you,” you speak softly, taking a couple small steps back. 

Soap doesn’t have time to process as you and Ghost step out of the infirmary, immediately spotting him as he stands dumbly in the hallway. 

“Hey Soap! You heading to Price’s office, too?” Soap blinks, shaking off the shock and giving you a quick nod. 

“Yeah, I was just about to come get the two of you.”

“Let’s go, then,” Ghost says, turning and walking away without waiting for you or Soap. You fall in step behind him almost instantly, waving Soap over. Soap glances between the two of you as he follows. He knew the two of you weren’t strangers. He’d even speculated you might’ve been friends, but he’d never imagined you might’ve been something more. He wants to know more, but also gets the sneaking suspicion that this isn’t something he should be prying into. Ghost has always been a private man. 

Either way, he has no time to think on it further as the three of you enter Price’s office. 

-

The second time, he’s in far too much pain and far too tired to really remember if it actually happened. 

Despite everything, the mission had been a success, though the cost had almost been too much. Your team of seven has two unconscious, three severely injured, and the rest sporting a variety of bullet grazes and knife wounds. None dead, thanks to your quick thinking and efficient work. It’s late and the team’s holed up in an old safehouse overnight waiting for evac. Soap is sat up against the far wall, watching you with drooping eyes as you flit around the safehouse, tending to everyone’s wounds. He had been fortunate enough to only have a few minor wounds, but the adrenaline of the fight is fading fast and the comedown is hitting hard. 

Ghost is on watch and is the last person you check on, at his own insistence and much to your annoyance. He bats you away from any of the minor cuts and bruises, so you pull up a chair next to his and focus on the deep gash running across his right forearm. Through his sleep-hazed gaze, Soap watches you expertly stitch Ghost’s arm. He can hear the two of you mumbling to each other, but doesn’t have the energy to try and decipher your words. Once you’ve finished wrapping Ghost’s arm, you glance around at the others. 

You must assume everyone is asleep by the way you deflate, running a tired hand down your face and stretching your neck with a grimace. You scoot your chair closer to Ghost’s, shutting your eyes and letting your head fall against his armored shoulder. To Soap’s surprise and not to yours, Ghost makes no move to push you away, instead shifting so your head’s not at such an awkward angle and settling into his own chair. Soap can feel his curiosity creeping up, but sleep wins out in the end and he passes out not long after. 

When he wakes, Ghost is in the same spot, but you’re curled up in a beaten up arm chair across the room still asleep. 

When evac finally arrives, everyone is awake, and you and Ghost hardly acknowledge each other as he briefs Price over comms and you help load wounded into the helicopter.

-

The third time, he’s sneaking through the rain and blood-soaked streets of Las Almas, Ghost guiding him through his ear as he makes his way to the church. 

He knows he should’ve seen it coming, but Graves’s betrayal stings nonetheless. Soap pushes the anger down, instead focusing on reaching the rendezvous point so they can escape and rescue Alejandro. The banter helps, but there’s an edge to Ghost’s voice that Soap understands as worry. 

They haven’t heard from you since you all were separated. 

They both know you can handle yourself, and worrying about it won’t help, so they talk and sort through their situation: what supplies Soap can pick up, how bad tequila tastes, the tactical uses for dog piss. Everything is as fine as it can be while on the run from deadly mercenaries. Until-

“The mask. Take it off.”

“Show my face?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Negative.”

“Are you ugly?”

“Quite the opposite.”

“Can confirm.” Soap nearly jumps out of his skin at the sudden sound of your voice. 

“Holy hell, where have you been?”

“Aw, you worried about me, Soap?” The teasing tells him you’re not in too much danger, or are at least somewhere you feel safe, but something in your voice feels…off.

“What’s your status?” Ghost cuts in.

“Managed to get out of the village,” you groan through a deep exhale, and give a haggard laugh, “can’t say the same for the Shadows.”

Ghost gives a quiet hum of praise, but all Soap can hear is the strain in your winded voice. “You alright, Doc? You sound-”

“Dings and scrapes, Soap. I’ll be fine. Meet up with you later.”

“Wh-”

“Don’t worry about it, Johnny,” Ghost sighs, “just focus on getting to the church.” 

“Right,” Soap mutters. He returns his focus back to the mission at hand, rummaging through the drawers in front of him for rope he can wrap around his extra fan blade. 

It hits him just as he spots the reflective shine of a shard of glass on the floor. Can confirm, is what you’d said. Did that mean-

“The Doc’s seen you without the mask.” It comes out as more of a statement than a question. 

“Let’s worry about you, Sergeant.”

-

The fourth time, he lands hard on his feet in the pitch black of Alejandro’s safehouse. Soap has his back turned as Ghost climbs in the window behind him. Luckily for him, as Ghost sees the laser sight aiming right for Soap’s back. 

“Don’t move!” Ghost calls out, before launching a knife into the support beam across the room. Soap whirls around to shine his light at the beam just as someone calls out from behind it.

“¿Quién está ahí?”

Before either he or Ghost can answer, someone else stands and walks around to the front, “About time you two showed up!” Your voice is an instant relief as they both relax while you turn back to let Rodolfo know it’s safe to come out. 

“Either of you injured?” you ask, eyes scanning over Soap as Ghost hops down from the open window and Rudy returns his knife. 

“Nothing major,” Soap assures you, though your eyes linger on the bullet hole in his arm. 

“Found this one trying to climb in through the same window,” Rudy explains, nodding towards you. 

“I almost had it,” you laugh, leaning to the side to put your weight on the beam. They don’t miss the way you wince, and it doesn’t take long to notice your right leg is a deep red from the knee up.

“Your leg-”

“Looks worse than it is.” 

Soap doesn’t believe you, but the subject changes to Graves and he lets it go. The four of you settle around the table as the guys formulate their plan for Alejandro’s prison break. You set your palms atop the table, leaning forward to take as much weight off of your leg as you can so you can focus on the conversation. It doesn’t help much, but it helps enough and soon the plan is concrete enough to take action. While Rudy leads Soap to the weapons locker, you take a seat on a nearby box to check the haphazard bandages you’ve wrapped around your thigh.

“You’re staying here.” Soap glances over as Ghost speaks. You laugh quietly, leaning back on your hands to stare up at the man towering over you.

“Leaving me all by my lonesome?” You sound like you’re complaining, but even from a distance Soap can see the relief in your face. Your teasing does little to soothe the stress radiating from Ghost.

“Just-” Ghost lets out a long sigh before dropping his voice so low, Soap can barely hear his words. “Be careful. Please.” You sit up straight, face suddenly serious as you set a gentle hand on Ghost’s wrist.

“For you? Always.”

“Soap, can you grab the rest of the guns?” Soap snaps back to attention, nodding at Rudy and collecting what guns he can. It takes all of two minutes, and when he turns back, Ghost is sorting through papers and you’ve set to properly bandaging your leg. 

-

By the fifth time something happens, Soap is absolutely sure there’s something between you and the Lieutenant. He notices it everytime the two of you are together: the quiet banter, the dark jokes only the two of you enjoy, the way Ghost always seems to hover near where you’re standing. It isn’t until the 141’s every-so-often night out that his suspicions are confirmed. Gaz and Price stepped away for a round of darts ten minutes ago, and now Soap finds himself sitting alone watching you and Ghost talk at the opposite end of the bar.

“You keep staring like that, and they’re going to notice.” Soap chokes on his drink as Price takes a seat next to him, Gaz snickering as he flops down on Soap’s other side and claps him on the back. 

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” Soap coughs out, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but the other end of the bar. Price sees straight through his lie, of course.

“Gaz, why don’t you see if the Doc wants to try a hand at darts?” 

“Sure thing, boss.” Another clap on the back and Gaz is making his way over to you and Ghost. Soap startles as Price leans close and nudges him in the side with his elbow. 

“Keep your eyes on him,” Price whispers, and leans away to sip at his own glass. Soap takes another drink, sneakily glancing up just as Gaz reaches you and Ghost. You smile widely at him, nodding when he gestures towards the darts board. You turn and say something to Ghost before standing from the bar and following after Gaz to the other side of the room. Ghost’s eyes follow you the entire way, never once leaving your form.

“Watches like a hawk, that one,” Price hums, “and I thought he’d be better at subtlety.” Soap turns to his Captain, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“You-” Price shushes him, and nods back towards Ghost. Soap looks back, and they watch as Ghost sets down his empty glass, stands, then makes his way over to you and Gaz. He posts up, leaning against the wall closest to you where you can easily smile at him every time one of your throws lands. 

“Like a lost puppy,” Price laughs.

“What’s the situation there?” Soap asks, glancing back at Price, but all Price can offer is a lazy shrug. 

“Don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s been happening for a long time.”

-

“Alright, just got a couple papers for you to sign and you should be good to go,” you smile, gently turning Soap’s head to examine the area you’ve just pulled his stitches from. 

“Thanks, Doc. ‘Preciate it.” You give a playfully dismissive wave, disappearing behind the dividing curtain. 

“I’ll be right back!” you call and Soap nods, more to himself than you. He glances around at his sterile surroundings, eyes bouncing from the white walls to the white floor to the white bedsheets. The overbed table sits just next to him, though this time there’s no mess of papers scattered atop it. Instead, there sits a single file and after twenty seconds of solid boredom, Soap can’t help himself. 

Lifting from the bottom corner of the file, Soap nearly drops it as he sees your picture clipped to a pile of papers. He looks behind him, pulling the curtain just enough to peer through. He spots you on the far side of the infirmary, waiting patiently at the printer. Letting the curtain fall, he quickly turns back to your file. He flips it open, picking up the paper with your photo attached. It’s an older picture, maybe from three or four years ago, but your smile is still as wide as ever. 

Flipping the picture up reveals almost two entire pages of solid black lines. There’s more redacted information here than Soap has ever seen. Soap skims through what few sentences are available, every so often catching things like SIS and specialty interrogation tactics and a slew of words he never would’ve associated with your cheerful demeanor. He gets to the final page that appears to be a printed copy of the photo and his heart nearly stops as he reads the name written at the bottom and everything clicks together in his head.

Your last name is Riley.

under wraps. (m)

pairing: dilf!jaehyun x reader

words: 2.3k+

summary: it’s taboo to be fucking your best friend’s dad, which is why you and jaehyun elect to keep your adventures a secret.

genre: smut

warnings: age gap, daddy kink, degradation, dirty talk, blowjob, creampies, talks of impregnation, anal fingering, spanking, kitchen sex, bathroom sex

thank you for 6k followers!

Keep reading

Pairing. Gojo, Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Nanami x Fem!Reader (Separately)

Rating. NSFW/ Explicit

WC. 1.3k+

CW/ TW. Single-Parent Reader, Domestic Softness, Breeding Kink, Rough Sex, Pet Names (ex. Dove, Baby), Almost getting caught, All Characters Aged-Up (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

AN. All likes, comments, and reblogs are very much appreciated!

M. List

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 is a grown child himself sometimes, so he most likely has zero problems getting along with your daughter.

He calls her princess, and one day you walk into the living room to find your daughter putting clips in Satoru's platinum hair and unicorn stickers on his face. It's cute, and you secretly take a picture to make it your lock screen on your phone.

Most days, you have to cook or else those two will eat nothing but sweets all day. But on the days he does try to make dinner, he'll have a chair pushed up to the counter for your daughter to see and help—though your kitchen is often left a total mess afterward.

He probably develops a breeding kink because he wants more little you's running around the house—and you shiver when he tells you this while you're washing dishes, pressing himself along your back so you can feel how hard he is.

Satoru has your wrists pinned above your head, biting at your breasts greedily, his thrusts rough and needy. He's pretty sure you're both going to have carpet burns later, but his head is too gone to care.

He nuzzles the side of your face, hips brushing against your clit every time he presses his cock into you: "You gonna take all my cum in this tight cunt and make it mine, yeah?"

𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈 is more shocked by the fact you have twins and less about you actually having kids.

It's no surprise that they're as drawn to his sunny personality as you are, both of them constantly vying for his attention. He takes the twins to the zoo and buys them new plushies for their bed—he even takes care of them when you're sick or stressed from work.

He has no issue considering the twins his and even lights up when someone points out how he makes a good father.

One thing he does lack, however, is subtlety.

You whine about moving to the bedroom when he decides to pull your small sleep shorts to the side and impale you on his achy length. His grip on your hips is gentle compared to the unforgiving pace of his thrusts below you, the couch groaning in protest.

"Shh, it's okay, baby." He presses a messy kiss to your lips. "They're sleeping. Now keep riding my cock."

And it's almost a close call when he cums with an animalistic groan, and you barely miss the sound of a door squeaking open upstairs before you throw the blanket over both of you.

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 is probably super awkward—the type that's never wanted kids, and yet he knew that you and your daughter were a package deal when he met you.

This doesn't stop him from hating the fact that every time he leaves his room, he always ends up stepping on Legos, or that he can't eat anything without a small hand reaching out for his food.

Eventually, he warms up to the idea, and affectionately calls your daughter brat—he'll even go as far as begrudgingly making her chocolate pancakes and watching cheesy cartoons to appease the little tyrant.

Although you try to stifle your smile when you come home from work to find him and your daughter curled up next to him, equally invested in whatever cartoon is playing on the TV.

He most likely still gets annoyed that he has to be more cautious about when and where he fucks you. He'll hold you down against the mattress if you're too loud, pushing your face into the comforter to cover up your little moans.

"If you make any more noise, you'll wake the brat," he hisses into your ear, though, smirking when you barely contain a sob each time his cock slides deeper.

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 most likely doesn't know what to do. After all, he didn't exactly have the best role model growing up.

He doesn't know what four-year-olds are interested in and probably bores your kid to sleep whenever he starts talking about mundane adult topics. You call it a gift because your son never takes naps for you—but really, he knows you're only saying that to make him feel better.

His first win is when he takes your son to the beach, and after a long day, the little boy cuddles up in his lap on the couch with soft snores muffled against his shoulder.

Megumi looks up at you in shock, and you can't help the little giggle that escapes your lips at the cute picture they make.

However, he gets super embarrassed when your son nearly walks in on him railing you into the mattress, and he practically knocks you off the bed in his haste to cover up.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 is definitely made to be a dad and adjusts pretty easily when you and your son move in with him.

He lets the little boy sit on his lap while drinking coffee and reading the paper in the morning. During the week, he picks him up and drops him off at daycare and packs lunches for the three of you.

You would have never expected the silent and very intimidating man to be so good with kids.

Your son also seems to be just as smitten with him that he often asks for Nanami when he thinks there are monsters in his closet—rubbing his wet eyes while standing near Nanami's side of the bed in his shark pajamas, sans one sock.

He lets the boy sleep between you most nights because he's usually too tired to get up. But on the nights when he tucks the boy back into his bed, you can't stop yourself from straddling his lap and pawing at his stiff cock through his boxers.

"Want you," you whine, freeing him from his underwear.

He grunts when you slide his heavy cock through your messy folds, and you whimper—teary-eyed.

"Dove, you're going to wake the baby." Though he hardly follows his own warning when he releases a feral groan as you slowly sink down until you feel like there's no more room in your swollen pussy for him to go.

His hands come up to dig into your hips, helping you grind back and forth. "My good girl," he mutters, watching your folds split around him. "You're gonna take the whole thing, aren't you?"

Then he thrusts up until the last inch is nestled in your tight, wet cunt.

Tagging. @weebaboobs @jordyn-degas @izukusfreckle @pulchritxde @sailorstrawberi @delirious-donna