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anonimusunnoaniswriting · 3 months

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𝙺𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚊𝚗𝚣𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒

✿ 𝓡𝓪𝓫𝓫𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓦𝓱𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓪 ✿

𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰 🎀Age in bio or blocked🎀

Pairing: Yakuza!Nanami Kento x Geisha!Reader

Genre: MafiaAU, GeishaAU

Word Count: 3124

Warnings: mentions of blood and killing. Its a mafia au what do you expect. No smut, fluff if you squint.

Summary: You've just started your life as a full fledged geiko and one evening with a man you meet might just change your life.

A/N: I wrote this as a seperate fic for a friend for her birthday and liked it so much I waned to make a Nanamin version so here y'all go! :)

Part One

You sat at the table, your elder sister diagonally opposite you as she laughed and entertained one of the most respected and well-known gokudo leaders in Kyushu. A sharp man who regularly travelled down to Kyoto to sit with her and drink tea that she didn’t even brew, only poured into a cup for him. If only you could be like that; gain a danna so young and attentive and not to mention, a treat for the eyes.

The kimono you had been made to wear for tonight had special motifs on it. It had been gifted to the geisha house by a man – who if the hushed whispers circulating the hanamachi were to be trusted – more dangerous than the head of the gokudo himself. Not someone to be trifled with. Stories of his exploits – single-handedly taking down a small army sent by the National Police Agency; slitting the throats of young and foolish kobuns who sold the family secrets to make a quick buck; and being a life-risking loyal dog to his Aniki – had already been spread among your sisters like hot oden selling out on a cold winter evening. You had listened to all these and soaked in the knowledge. Knowledge that now came flashing up into your mind as you carefully poured out the hot tea, just as you had been taught and served it to your kimono gifter and his dark-haired friend. Your kimono, a pale blue silk, artfully decorated by the white camellia that flashed in the light of the lamps.

You thought back wondering why you of all people may have been chosen to entertain this very esteemed guest. Sure, your dance was good, but it wasn’t that it stood out beside your sisters. You could play the shamisen relatively well, but not like the masters did. Why had you been chosen, fresh out of your training period having just had your mizuage…

The only conclusion wracking your brain could lead you to was that perhaps it was because you, of all the maikos and geikos around you, were able to refrain from spreading the circulating rumours. Partake you did – but only so much as to listen…

Thankfully your sister had done most of the talking, leaving you to smile and pour the tea and ponder the meaning of what your Okasan had said earlier when she had come with the younger girl Hana to help you wear your make-up and jewellery.

The cool wet brush that painted your skin white, helped calm your nerves and when you looked in the mirror, you barely recognised the beautiful woman staring back at you with her blood-red lips and darkened lashes. As she had been painting, Hana had looked like she wanted desperately to ask you something but a sharp glare from Okasan quieted her eagerness; she continued to help pick out appropriate jewellery for your new kimono.

When she was happy with how you looked, Okasan made you stand and turn once so she could see all of you. An approving nod and then a sigh, “A white camellia, I see. Who knows what these men think…”

***

The pressure you felt to be perfect was unbearably high, and you were glad to have your elder sister there to help ease you into the conversation. There had been times that you had gone to the tea house before, but it was only to watch from behind the screen and learn from your elder sister; one of the most sought-after geisha in Kyoto. You had admired her smooth movements and the grace with which she carried herself – entranced by her much like the men she was there to entertain. This time, however, it was you dancing and entrancing while she played the music.

The men you had been called to spend this evening with had already been seated at a large square table. There were four of them. Geto-san of course whose eyes kept getting drawn back to your oneesan. It was always her company he valued more than that of any other geisha in the karyūka. To his right sat the aptly nicknamed right-hand man, Gojo-san. These two men you knew; were acquainted with even, but opposite to Geto and Gojo were two new men whom you were seeing for the first time. A tall man with a large hooked nose and tired eyes that seemed to carry the weight of the world, faced Geto. And between them a man with soft blonde hair and warm brown eyes.

As the night went on, you poured tea, giving way to pouring sake, and batted your lashes smiling with a practised ease. You couldn’t help but notice that the man beside you was drawn to you much in the way that Geto-san was drawn to your oneesan. He had been introduced to the two of you as Nanami Kento-san. And the taller, to your other side, Higuruma Hiromi-san. “Part of my organisation.” as Geto-san had put it. They were, no doubt, as close to him as Gojo-san was.

You felt those brown eyes on you as you poured the warm sake. Specifically on the stripes of bare skin left unpainted on the nape of your neck. Upon tuning – to hand Nanami-san the cup – you confirmed. It hadn’t been your imagination. He had been looking. A keen gaze that now pierced your eyes. An odd feeling in your stomach, made you blush and look away.

Geto-san’s voice suddenly pierced your reverie! “Kento-kun seems to have taken a liking to you my young geiko!” there was a smile in his voice that translated to his face too.

You look at him confused. What did he mean? You had just met! You looked at the man, a soft smile on your face, and hoped he would give you an explanation but he simply looked away, now turning beet red. You felt your cheeks heat up as well and looked down at your lap, focusing on the white camellia on the pale blue of your kimono.

Your oneesan laughed. “Don’t tease her Suguru-san! She’s still quite green!” You felt your face burn. What she said was true but you wished she wasn't telling him about it either way.

“Do you know what the white camellia means?” asked a tipsy Higuruma-san from the other side of you. You shook your head. No. You didn’t… Even though it evidently was apparent to all others who saw it.

“Yearning. It signifies yearning!” drawled Geto-san from the other side of the table chuckling. Seemed like the man had been poured quite a bit of sake already. Thankfully your sister chose this moment to intervene and promote your dancing to him which in turn had you getting up and away from the table while oneesan presented her shamisen and played and sang so you could dance.

When the night came to a close you still hadn’t quite understood what everything had meant and yet the fatigue pulled you under, helping you sleep quickly and without time to think long upon the night’s events…

“You have been requested for an evening out by Nanami-san!” Okasan squealed, barely hiding her happiness. Your jaw dropped open. It had been a few days since you had spent the evening entertaining the four men of the gokudo with your sister. The events of that day had stuck with you as you kept wondering what Geto-san had meant when he said “Kento-kun” had taken a liking to you. Okasan continued, “He has sent another kimono for you. It seems he has taken a liking to you!”

There it was again. “A liking to me? Already? What does it mean, Okasan?” You inquired.

“It means your training has been going well.” and that was all the elder lady offered.

You thought about it as your kimono was tied for you. This time, a soft sakura blossom pink all down to the feet where it deepend into a darker shade. The sleeves showed two rabbits bounding along playfully.

“Oh look, it’s devotion and intelligence this time,” Okasan joked. “This man and his kimono choices…”

You could not fathom why Nanmi Kento had such fondness toward you when you had not even met him before… Perhaps tonight, you could weasel the truth from him without it being too forward of you.

The tea house was bustling, you had been shown to a private room where Nanami-san waited. Although you were fresh out of your apprenticeship, he’d chosen you alone to accompany him for the evening, and you felt a nervousness upon entering. The Okiya rarely allowed geiko to entertain alone, such a luxury was reserved only for very respected customers, who of course, also had adequate coin.

You were equipped with your shamisen, in case he wished for music, but if he asked you to dance you would have to ask one of the staff at the tea house to step in and play for you. However, Nanami-san did neither. He only asked you to drink tea with him. You made sure that his cup stayed full, as you were trained. Along with the tea, Nanami-san ordered all sorts of wagashi. He only really spoke to tell you, “Here, eat some more of this.” or “Try the dango. It’s delicious.” in his warm baritone. There still hadn’t been an opportune moment for your question however, and this kept you feeling nervous.

As the night deepened, the tea turned to warm sake. You refrained from drinking too much as was custom, but the alcohol loosened your benefactor's tongue and he began to talk.

“I hope that you are enjoying this evening, Fukuhina-san.” You still weren’t used to being called by your chosen geiko name. Taking part of your oneesans name – Fukuhana – your new name was supposed to give off the appearance of how you were essentially a younger version of your oneesan.

“I am…” your voice trailed off as you wondered about the question that kept surfacing in your mind. You bowed your head to look at your lap not wanting to show the hesitation that was no doubt splayed on your face at the moment.

Nanami-san frowned, "If anything was not to your satisfaction you can tell me you know... You deserve the best. Only the best…”

There it was again. The strange – almost devotion that he seemed to have for you, coming up stronger now. His empty cup beckoned you so you took a moment to think while you poured more of the warm sake out for him. As the clear liquid overtook the cup you considered how best you could broach the question.

“Please do not worry, Nanami-san… Th- there was nothing that troubled me.” His admission of only wanting the best for you had you thinking further.

He hummed, "Troubled you no... I want you to enjoy yourself.... With me." He turned his head to properly look at you... "That kimono looks beautiful with you in it."

“I am told you sent it as well. I must thank you for your generosity and commend your choice, Nanami-san.”

You gather your courage and try again. “Nanami-san, I- forgive my impudence – but I must ask, What did Geto-san mean when he said that the other day. And Higuruma-san… pointing out the white camellia. And these rabbits… Okasan said they mean something – devotion and intelligence…?” Now that you had started, the questions poured out of you with no restraint. Almost everything you wanted to ask rushed out, but you quickly managed to cull the last one. Why are you being so nice when we have only just met each other?

Despite the dimness of the light in the room you could see how the man’s cheeks heated in front of you. He took a swig of his drink, emptying the cup – you filled it again, only to have it downed promptly. When you went to pour more he covered it with his free hand, then set it down and turned to look at you.

“Fukuhina-chan – may I call you that?” he continued after your nod. “Fukuhina-chan, there is a tale that is whispered among those of the gokudo, a tale that has spread all over Japan. There belongs to Geto Suguru, a tiger. A vicious creature that when it has sunk its teeth into its prey does not let go.” Nanami-san lifts his kimono sleeve to show you the snarling tiger tattooed across his arm. Its eyes seem to glow in the fire light. His muscles rippling under his skin make the animal look almost alive – ready to pounce.

“I am a fierce man. I will admit, I have killed many men – women too. I have more scars than that which I can count. Aniki regards me as his most trusted brother, right alongside Gojo and Hiromi.” you are taken aback at his confession but he continues, “But I am not a man without reason. What I do is thought out and done. What I say I think and say. So believe me when I tell you, I have not fallen for you on some boyish whim…”

He takes a deep breath, “You do not remember I am sure, but, it was about a year ago, I had been in a terrible shootout with a Kyoto gang and was injured. It was the coming of winter then as it is now, the streets were almost empty save a few stray cats and drunken men who were stumbling home. As I lay by the side of the road, I was certain that if they weren’t chasing after me with their guns, the blood loss would surely take me before my exhaustion did. And then there was a light…”

As he spoke you realised there was a certain familiarity in his story.

“I lay there, broken, bruised, a pool of my own blood forming around me. Whatever locals walked past, avoiding me like I could and would at any moment snap and take off their ankles. I was not ready to die – full of regrets.” He paused and took a sip of the cup only to remember it was empty as he had stopped you from refilling it. So he took the bottle from your frozen hands and poured himself a drink, and then, one for you, and continued.

“You came to me, out of the dark, holding that shamisen, very much in the same way that you did today walking into this room. Unafraid of how I looked. You, in that pretty blue kimono, your hair tied up and your face free of this makeup.” He gingerly touched your cheek. “And you pushed your little handkerchief into my hand and said to me, ‘stay alive, I will send help!’”

The memories came rushing back to your mind. That chilly evening, onee-san’s show which went on till late. You who played the shamisen for her to dance to, returning to the okiya with the instrument in your hands, stumbling upon this sorry-looking figure. Rushing to the nearest doctor's house and crying up a storm for them to go help the man! Even promising to speak to Okasan for some payment money but the request had never come and you now understood why! The man – then – had been smaller, sure and beaten up so badly that you didn’t recognise that that man and the one sitting before you now were one and the same, but you realised that the very aura that enveloped him then and drew you to him did so with you here as well. A commanding, yet gentle presence.

“The doctor and his helper arrived soon after that. They took me to his house, patched me up, and when I asked them how they knew, they told me of the young maiko who cried at the door in desperation, pleading for help and making promises she probably couldn’t keep.”

You felt yourself blush. “You didn’t owe me anything Nanami-san…” you mumbled.

“On the contrary Fukuhina-chan, I owe you my life. After that day, I worked harder than ever. At the time I wasn’t so high up in the ranks, but I worked and rose up among the gokudo to sit at the side of the most powerful yakuza leader in all of Japan – and make enough money to become your danna…” You gasped. It was one thing to be a respected patron but another altogether to become a geisha's danna! “That is, if you’ll have me…”

You could only nod your head, not daring to speak because of the lump forming in your throat. Your danna! That would mean the debt you needed to pay to your Okiya would be taken care of faster. That would mean you could become independent like Fukuhana-neesan was.

“I am glad you have said yes Fukuhina-chan as I want to lavish you with the opulence you so rightly deserve.” His hand brushed against your cheek again, the cold fingers, a stark contrast to how hot your face felt.

“Nanami-san.. I don’t know what to even say…”

“Well, you don’t have to say anything right now, just answer me this, when everyone was lowering their heads and quickening their gait, seeing me dying there, what made you stop? Why did you help me that night? I could have been a danger to you or you could have gotten in trouble with your Okiya…”

It is true, you had dreaded the doctor coming to ask for his payment, not really knowing what to say to you Okasan about why you had called the doctor for an unknown yakuza. In your desperation to see him saved you hadn’t thought that far but what drew you to save him?

“It was the way in which you held yourself… Even though you were almost dead, your head was high. And you were looking to the stars, not the people around you. You seemed to be wishing you could have done more, and I didn’t want to let you lose that chance.” In the silence around you even this whisper was deafening…

When Nanami Kento left the tea house that evening, stumbling back to the room he had booked at the inn, his mind was consumed with only one thought. How much he now wanted to kiss your lips. The ones that recognised who he was even before anyone else had.

Geisha are performers first and foremost, to kiss you and hold you, he knew, he would be asking a lot. But he wanted to show you that to him, you were the only thing that mattered now. He would woo you, and if luck happened to be on his side once again, he would be honoured to become more than just your danna.

End of Part 1

End of work A/N: I do not claim to know everything about geisha or yakuza as institutions/people. My understanding is a base level one and there may be things which are not so accurate here. Please allow me some leeway when reading and note that I am not an authority on these subjects. This was written for fun with a little research.

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

#anonimuswritings #anonimusunnoan #jjk #fanfiction #fanfic #nanami kento #kento nanami #mafia au #mafia nanami #yakuza #geisha AU #geiko #part 1 #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #yakuza nanami #jujitsu kaisen #slow burn

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tonycries · 3 months

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Men In Uniform F*ck Better!

Synopsis. You want him and you want him now. It doesn’t matter if you have to fúck him in his uniform - in fact, it just might make it better.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] professor! Gojo x Reader, yakuza boss! Sukuna x Reader, calligrapher! Geto x Reader, baker! Nanami x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, no curses! AU, oral (male + female receiving), men at work, manhandling, marking, slight gúnplay, degradation, smacking, choking, Sukuna is mean but he’s a yakuza boss so, spitting, semi-public, brat-taming, bunch of heinous stuff idek, cúmplay, slight foodplay, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.6k

A/N. Was gonna add Choso and Toji but this got too long, dw I’ll make separate ones about them later <3

♡ NANAMI KENTO - The baker

Watching Nanami Kento at work could make even the most ardent non-believers worship God.

Kneading. Spreading. Every motion of his strong hands deliberate and purposeful. Muscles rippling in his forearms with each movement.

You watch - almost hypnotized - as the devilishly handsome baker at your favorite bakery prepares his dough for tomorrow. By God were you glad you managed to bat your lashes just enough to convince him to let you stay after closing - for educational purposes, of course.

Your thighs squeeze together involuntarily as long fingers sink deep into the dough, squeezing. Pulling. Teasing. A delicate bead of sweat trickling down between his furrowed brows and disappearing enticingly between those chiseled collarbones. Oh, how you wished it was you under his hands instead.

“How long’s it gonna take? I see the way you’re watching me, y’know.”

A low rumble breaks the silence, sending tremors down your spine - all the way to your already-heated cunt. Eyes snapping up to meet Nanami’s darkened ones, your face burns at being caught red-handed. Stammering out excuses, “W-wha- I didn’t-”

Soft dough now forgotten, he steps closer, presence overwhelming, dominating the space around you. “Always do. Watching me with such slutty eyes.” Low words that make your pussy throb. You’re dumbfounded by his eyes, intense and stripping - making you feel so exposed and vulnerable before him.

In the dimly lit kitchen, the tension is palpable. You can’t help but lean into his presence, standing toe-to-toe with his muscled front.

With a slight smirk curling his lips, Nanami leans in, his breath warm against your ear and making you shudder in anticipation. “But don’t worry, darling. I like it.”

They’re the last words said before he pulls you into a searing kiss, a hand tight around your neck, neat fingernails digging into your skin, pulling you impossibly closer to him as his tongue demands entry, intertwining with yours. It’s possessive, it’s feral - and tastes oh so very sweet - just like his delicate pastries.

Nanami breathes you in like a man starved. A desperation that carries into your frantic fingers untying that godforsaken apron.

And in his steady hands as they lift you up as if you weigh nothing, fingers groping and kneading your ass as he seats you on the kitchen counter. The surface cold under where your skirt was messily bunched up. “Mm- hngh- please, Nanami.”

Pulling away with a final bite to your lower lip, he leaves a trail of wet, sloppy kisses down your body that send chills racing through you, and have your thighs rubbing together for an ounce of friction.

“Tch” Of course, he wasn’t a fan. Grip bruising, manhandling your legs open so shamefully, he splays you out deliciously for him. Nanami’s greedy gaze devours the sinful way your dripping cunt leaks through your thin panties - ones you wore especially for him.

Seems he knew too, pushing his glasses up contemplatively before dropping onto his knees with a fucked out oh. “Always knew you were naughty, darling, but to be such a slut? Driving me crazy, hm?” his voice thick with desire and whispered mere millimeters away from your swollen folds.

Moaning softly, you arch your back into the warm breath hitting your quivering cunt, whining out an embarrassed “Noo- only for you, Nanami.”

“Oh yeah?” Huffing out a dark chuckle, he all but rips off your soaked panties. The tattered fabric stark against the sterile floor. You gasp at the cold air that hits your heated cunt - but not for long, because Nanami’s hot mouth is on it like a man dying of thirst.

Nose-deep in your pussy, the cold metal of his glasses makes you flinch in sensitivity. His hands spread your cunt bruisingly, letting his tongue bully it’s way past your folds, urgently lapping at your juices as if you were the sweetest damn thing he’s ever tasted.

Chin hitting your cunt, nose rubbing against your pulsing clit, he makes out with your sloppy pussy in methodical, merciless movements of his tongue that have you keening and bucking your hips for more more more.

Looking up at you over his glasses, his hungry gaze devours your half-lidded eyes, the grip searing on his hair, and the whimpers of his name leaving your swollen lips just as greedily as the mouth on your slutty cunt.

“Wanted this right, darling?” he murmurs, lips hot against your own. Vibrations making slick bead out of your cunt and pool onto his waiting lips. “Wanted to break under my hands?”

“Yes. Yes, yes yes, s’all I’ve wanted.” teary whimpers leave your bruised lips, you craved the sting of his hands, the burn of his fingers. Your hips buck uncontrollably, grinding yourself against his mouth as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

Hands now groping every inch of skin he could find, leaving pretty purple marks that remind you of his mouth-watering pies.

Exploring every curve and valley, bending you to his will, languid where his tongue was merciless. Savoring you. Groping your breasts, squeezing your ass, as if he wanted everything all at once.

Your entire body was sore now. Cunt throbbing in sympathy with the tender flesh. Marks littering your skin as if you’d been thrown to the wolves. Ah, all these weeks you’d been right - heaven really was in Nanami Kento’s hands. And right now you were putty in them.

He grasped your thighs, squeezing them roughly and lifting them higher, opening you wider for his unforgiving pace. Clearly enjoying the way your face contorted in pain and pleasure, Kento slipped a finger inside you. One. Then two. Stretching you to your limits. Spreading open your already-stretched entrance further.

His fingers frantic now, fucked-out, jerky movements. Wilder. Animalistic. Driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“Open your mouth.”

You listen - drunk on his tongue as yours lolls out so lewdly. The taste hits you before the realization - sweet sugar and the taste of you on your tongue as two thick fingers are shoved into your mouth. They reach the back of your throat, pressing hard onto your tongue. You force yourself to fight off the gagging as some animalistic part of you sucks desperately on them for the sweet, sweet taste.

“Almost as sweet as you.” Nanami groans, words muffled into your cunt and sending white-hot pleasure racing up your spine. Words hanging in the air, he speeds up the movements of his mouth, frantic movements matching your need for more.

Your climax hits you with a jolt, cumming till you see stars behind your eyes. Maybe it was his words, maybe it was the way his tongue quirked just right on your throbbing clit to make you throw your head back as you fell apart underneath him.

“Hngh- Oh fuck, Nanami. M’cum- cumming!” you whine, grinding your cunt down impossibly harder on his pretty face. Fingers tangled in his silky blond locks as you force him deeper, riding out your high greedily.

You’re still dazed - vision blurry as Nanami pulls away from your cunt with a lewd squelch! getting up from his position kneeling on the floor. “So delicious on m’tongue, darling.”

Devastatingly handsome face flushed, breaths ragged, muscled front now pressing against your sinfully spread legs. And in your orgasm-hazed mind you still manage to hear the arousing clink of a belt unbuckling, and the metallic screech against marble of the nearby bowl of your favorite frosting being pulled closer. White - to match the precum dribbling down his leaking cock.

The distinct feeling of something wet and achingly hard against your needy cunt.

Oh. Ah, it really was a sweet, sweet life.

♡ GETO SUGURU - The calligrapher

You didn’t exactly think the live calligraphy show your friend dragged you to was about to have you on the edge of your seat.

But here you were.

Eyes locked on the way the tall figure onstage, clad in a dark yukata - sinfully slipping off to reveal a milky, toned shoulder. Geto Suguru exudes an air of raw sexuality that the entire audience was aware of, eyes not being able to decide between the masterpiece on the canvas or the masterpiece of a man on stage.

His fingers, long and agile, effortlessly over the bamboo pen. Each stroke a sensual caress, dark eyes pools of desire that match his long, flowing locks, and the inky characters on the page.

Chest heaving with passion, with a final, dramatic sweep of his arm, Geto completes the last stroke. And as the audience erupts into applause, you merely stay rooted to your seat, thighs pressing together and breath caught in your throat - only one thought ringing in your mind.

You just had to have him.

Which is why you found yourself following your friend to the chaotic atmosphere backstage. But despite the buzz of activity, you could still hear Geto’s deep, velvety voice carrying through the crowd.

Pushing through the sea of people, “Ah! Long time no see, Geto-san. This is my friend, she really enjoyed your performance tonight,” your friend introduced, gesturing towards you.

Eyes gleaming he turns to you, “Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, I enjoyed it very much.” you grin, batting your lashes. Relishing in the way Geto’s dark eyes appraise you from head to toe. Taking in every inch of you - and you do the same.

Geto’s eyes harden, as if deciding on something. “I’m flattered. Why don’t you two lovely ladies join me for some drinks with the crew?”

Yeah, you had to have him - you just didn’t think that would be so easy.

Walls lined with paintings, the scent of ink and sin hung heavy in the air, as you two snuck away from the animated group downing celebratory shots. Geto’s hand hot in yours as he leads you down a dimly-lit corridor to “his favorite lil’ spot”, as he’d whispered to you.

You could tell you were getting closer - because Geto promptly pulls you closer, hands grasping your waist possessively.

“No turning back now, pretty girl.” he whispers, breath hot against your ear.

“S’all I want, Suguru.” you mutter, desire coursing through you like a wildfire, pooling into something sticky and hot at your cunt.

Perhaps seeing the pure, feral need in your eyes, Suguru murmurs, leaving no room for disagreement now, “Follow me.”

The room he led you to was heady with seductive candles, beautiful artwork lining the walls. His own - you assume, as Suguru leads you to a low wooden table in the center of the room. On it is a bottle of sake and two cups.

Movements fluid and precise, Suguru pours the sake, filling it to the brim. He hands it to you, eyes never leaving your face. “Drink up, pretty girl.” he hums, low and seductive. And honestly fuck stranger danger, how could you not when he looks at you like that?

So you drink, sake burning its way down your throat. Predatory eyes locked on you as you set down the cup, Suguru’s mouth quirks up into a sly grin around his as he asks, “Liked it?”

You’ve barely gotten out the nod - not trusting yourself to speak - before Suguru downs his shot abruptly, slamming down the cup with a thunk!

Lips parting slightly, slender fingers squish your cheeks together into an almost-embarrasing pout. Forcing you to look up at him with an almost predatory grace as he looms closer. You don’t know if you should’ve expected the steady, warm stream of sake and saliva that hits your tongue. Sliding so obscenely down your throat.

Guess Suguru Geto was filthy in bed where he was the embodiment of grace in public.

It’s sweet on your tongue - both the sake and Suguru.

Eyes glassy, a mixture of sake and drool dribbling down the corner of your mouth - Suguru really can’t help the lips that come crashing down on yours, tongue plunging deep into your mouth. His tongue was relentless, keeping yours intertwined in a heady kiss.

Arms wrapping around your waist to pull you impossibly closer to his heated body. Hands tugging on your hair, mapping your curves. All the way up to cup your breasts, thumbs running tight, little circles around your perked nipples.

You moan into the heated kiss as something rock-hard pokes your thigh. Hand greedily grabbing at his yukata with the need for more.

Breaking the kiss, Suguru’s breaths come in ragged gasps. “On your knees, pretty girl.”

And what Geto Suguru wants, Geto Suguru gets.

Which is why you were sat, eyes hungry and greedily watching the way Suguru slowly, and deliberately peels open the front of his yukata, exposing his toned torso. A sly grin curling his lips at you gape at his leaking cock, standing proud and achingly hard. Thick and unforgiving.

Fuck, could you really take him in your mouth? He was at least twice as big as anyone else you’ve been with before…

“Open.” he orders, voice low and commanding and making your cunt clench so deliciously in anticipation. Suguru’s flushed tip pokes your lips - glossy with sake and saliva - precum salty on your tongue. God, he was huge. Parting your mouth wider, lips stretching around his length you desperately try to fuck him into your mouth - eager to please.

But it just wasn’t enough.

Because Suguru has a searing grip on your hair, holding your head steady as he pushed his cock all the way down your throat. Delicate veins throbbing against the roof of your mouth as he starts up a steady, merciless pace fucking your mouth as if you were nothing but a fucktoy.

“C’mon now, you said s’all you want. Better act like it, pretty girl.” he chuckles darkly, pushing you impossibly further down so that your nose presses into the tufts of thick, black hair at his pelvis. Like delicate strokes of a fine art. Breathing in the heady, masculine scent so sinfully.

This man is a masterpiece, you think deliriously - completely cock-drunk as you gag around his length, eyes burning at the way his fat tip hits your abused throat. Over and over. A ceaseless cadence you were losing your mind to.

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, jus’ like that.” he hisses, as you tongue at his slit. Fingers deftly pressing around your neck to feel his dick ramming down your throat.

The once-serene room rings with your pathetic, wet gurgles around Suguru’s cock and the smacking of skin on skin as his heavy balls hit your chin. “Take it, take it all.”

You moan, body arching as you claw at his toned hips for some semblance of stability. Nails digging neat lines down his milky skin. Balls tightening, he thrusts animalistically into your mouth, each one deeper and harder than the last, cock sliding in and out of you brutally.

Messy.

Saliva and precum drip down his length, dirtying his yukata. Tears streak down your cheeks onto Suguru’s wrist, fingers tightening ferally around your throat. Blood roaring in your ears, choking at both the throbbing cock and the hand blocking your airway.

It was so fucking messy.

So it only made sense that Suguru’s orgasm was the same.

With a guttural cry of your name, Suguru came in hot spurts of cum, shooting rope after rope down your ready throat as his cock pulsed and stuttered in your mouth. You felt so dirty, his seed pooling on your tongue.

But he wasn’t done - no, far from it - pulling out from your abused mouth with a lewd pop! Twitching cock heavy on your face as he paints your face white. Hips bucking deliriously, a smug smirk playing on his lips at his masterpiece.

Face and mouth covered in his cum, fucked out enough that you basically had heart eyes looking at Suguru, you ready yourself to swallow it all. Needing to taste Suguru immediately.

Ah, but one can’t get everything they want.

Because Suguru drops to his knees, hand still tight around your throat as he captures your lips with his. Teeth clashing, lips bruising, forcing his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself. Tasting you. It was absolutely animalistic.

A barely-lucid, disappointed whine leaves your swollen lips as he pulls away. Only to spit once. Twice. Three times on your face.

You flinch as wads of saliva and his cum hit your face, warm and dripping down your cheeks. Staining the pristine tatami mats below as they fall with a resounding tap! tap! tap!

And you gladly offer yourself up for the abuse. A fucked out smile spreading across your face as you take in the feeling of being so debauched by Suguru. Somewhat-delirious, you barely register the dark mutter against your ear, “Hope you’re not tapping out yet, pretty girl. I haven’t even gotten out my paintbrushes yet.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - The yakuza boss

“Strip.”

Standing in the dimly lit room, red-hot irritation flashes behind your eyes as you bristle at the words falling out of his mouth - devastatingly handsome had it not been for that smug, leering smirk.

Eyes half-lidded, long legs spread on that gaudy armchair, smoke falling from Sukuna’s lips as he stares at you intently. Eyes piercing through yours over his cigar. Demanding compliance.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you rip your gaze from his, flitting panickedly between the imposing yakuza boss in front of you - all alluring tattoos, and heavy, gold rings - and the glinting pistol that lay silently on one, muscular thigh.

You can feel the heat of his gaze burning into your skin as your hands tremble, fumbling with those tedious buttons. Breathing heavy, nipples hardening - your top hits the floor. God, what the fuck have you gotten yourself into.

Cursing your father’s debt, you move on to your pants. Desperately trying to avoid catching a glimpse of those blown-out pupils, something prickly and hot pooling in your stomach. Shit. You won’t start liking this - you refuse to start liking this.

One by one, it falls away. Leaving you bare and completely exposed under Sukuna’s intense scrutiny. A low growl escapes his lips at the way your thighs clench together so sinfully, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

“Come here, doll.” Low, raspy words that go straight to your cunt. But you steel yourself, heels clacking against the polished floor as you step closer. And closer. Watching the way he drinks in your naked form.

But apparently too slow.

Before you can even react, a muscled arm reaches out, pulling you to fall into his waiting lap, straddling those toned hips. A jolt of electricity going through your body as you register the cold metal of the gun digging into your leg.

Sukuna leans forward, the scent of tobacco and sin overwhelming your senses. “Dance f’me.”

Shit. How dare he talk to you this way - and how dare you let your pussy clench in anticipation at his demeaning tone.

Biting back a groan at the way your hardened nipples brush against his button-up, you tentatively roll your hips forward. A thrill going straight to your pussy as something long and thick presses against you. Involuntarily, you press closer, grinding against him. Hard.

Large, calloused hands find your ass. Squeezing roughly to pull you closer, rocking your hips back and forth on his throbbing erection. Back and forth back and forth back and-

Cool metal pressed against your skin - the barrel of his glinting gun pressed lightly against your forehead. Goosebumps erupt down your spine, painfully prickling at your skin as you realize just what the fuck he was doing. “As much as I love you humping me like a bitch in heat, doll. I asked you to dance f’me.” he murmurs, tone was positively dripping with something dark and dangerous.

Well, you think, gritting your teeth in determination. Might as well give the bastard what he asks for.

Staring defiantly right into those darkened, intense eyes, you begin moving your body agonizingly slow. Hands tantalizingly tracing the outline of your body. Teasingly caressing the skin, sliding your fingers along your collarbone, down your rib cage, grazing your navel before slithering lower. Lower.

Your soaked cunt forming a wet patch right on his straining erection.

Sukuna’s eyes follow your every move - every circle of your hips down on his throbbing bulge. The corner of his mouth curving into a satisfied smile as he takes in the sight of you so sinful and shamefully exposed for him.

The desire simmering beneath his composed exterior is basically palpable.

And then, it snaps.

Suddenly, his arm snaps up, grabbing bruisingly at your waist. With a slow, deliberate motion, he takes a long drag of his cigar - blowing the smoke right in your face, the warm breath mingling with the heady air.

Your surprised gasp is swallowed by his heated kiss, tongues wrestling as a hand digs into the tender skin of your neck. As if he owns you.

Hips bucking wildly, and more frantically on Sukuna’s clothed cock - the expensive fabric of his pants now wet with your slick and his precum. You lose yourself in the moment.

But what you do register is the sharp unzipping of his pants.

Snapping your eyes open, they meet with the large, leaking cock now pulsing in his hands, prominent veins glistening with precum that dribbles down his flushed head. Pulling away, you rip your gaze from his throbbing erection to look in his eyes - with what, fear? Anticipation? Both?

Sukuna lounges back on his armchair leisurely, relishing the way you watch - somewhat-awestruck - as his large hand begins moving in small, unhurried motions up and down his rock-hard length.

A harsh push of the barrel against your forehead snaps you out of your debauched reverie. “Didn’t tell ya to stop, did I, doll?” he hisses out, venomous and needy.

The tension in the room is almost tangible, the air thick with lust and fear. As you watch the rhythmic jerks of Sukuna’s hand on his erect cock - up and down up and down up and- your body betrays you.

Mind hazy with arousal, you place your hands on his shoulders, cunt clenching at the strong, defined muscle beneath your fingertips. You lean forward, lips meeting his in a desperate, desperate kiss.

Pulling away, you reach for his heavy cock, wrapping your fingers around it, feeling it’s thickness and the heat. Sukuna lets out a low growl, eyes closing momentarily as you begin to stroke him in urgent, desperate tugs that have his hips bucking involuntarily.

As you let him fuck your fist like his own personal fleshlight, you grind down against his thigh. Hard. His tight, twitching ball stimulating your clit just right as you get yourself off on Sukuna like a bitch in heat.

Maybe it was the pure feral need in your hazy eyes - or maybe it was the way you lean your head into the gun pressing against your forehead - but Sukuna’s eyes widen, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. Only growing more amused by the second as you lean impossibly closer to take the cigar from his hand, placing it between your lips.

Drawing deeply, inhaling the sweet, rich flavor of the tobacco. As you exhale, you deliberately blow the smoke into his face, the tendrils of vapor swirling around his beautiful features, mixing with the sweat and the scent of his cologne.

A deep bark of laughter makes Sukuna throw his head back - and you to clench around nothing on his lap. Hips becoming more and more animalistic against his. Your wrist now aching and wet with precum, becoming so, so sloppy trying to get both yourselves off.

Sukuna wraps his arm around you, pulling you close, his hand cupping your breast possessively. The other surges back with the gun on your forehead - where it had been faltering from pleasure before. “Make us come within the next five seconds before I blow your head off, doll.”

One.

Your fingers tighten around his cock, milking him. Movements from both ends become more and more filthy with the need to release.

Two.

You cup his heavy balls in your hands, clit catching on his zipper and making you mewl at the stimulation.

Three.

A thumb pressing down between his balls, hard. Hips stuttering with your impending release, losing your mind with each stroke.

Four.

Sukuna body goes rigid, choking on what sounds like your name, bottom lip catching between his teeth as he throws his head back and-

Five.

Cums all over your fist, thick, hot spurts of seed that paint your hands white. Splattering on your palm, and onto the chair below. You not too far behind as your body bows into his, stars behind your eyes as you chase peak after peak grinding down on his lap. You shudder, release taking everything out of you until it’s nothing more than mere tingles.

A finger on the trigger. Pulling.

Click!

As Sukuna’s maniacal laughter rings in the heady room, you blink away the haze of your orgasm as you realizing with a jolt that there were no fucking bullets.

Yet this bastard shot you anyway.

Skin heated against yours, lips ghosting your ear as Sukuna whispers. Low and gravelly.

“I don’t need a gun to kill, doll.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - The professor

“You see, I really, really need this A to pass, sir.” you bat your lashes innocently, slightly whiny yet not desperate - at least, not yet.

Short skirt hiking up as you lean over the desk in Professor Gojo’s stuffy office. Making sure that tight top you purposefully wore lets those striking blue eyes see a perfect view of your breasts - no bra today, of course.

Eyes flickering down. Once. Twice.

Success.

Yet, Professor Gojo’s easy grin stays steadfast, “Well, maybe you should have studied harder then, hm?” You’d almost be fooled by his little act, yet your eyes catch the way he subtly crosses his legs, something stirring in those alluring cerulean eyes as he looks up at you through his lashes.

Deciding to play along, huffing as you cross your arms across your chest, “I did, maybe you should just let me take on an assignment for extra credit.”

His eyes widened slightly, his eyebrows raising in question, “What kind of assignment?”

You bite your lips coyly, holding back a smirk at the way he makes it so easy for you. Reaching out immediately to trace a thumb across his full lips, leaning down far enough that your tits were basically spilling out of your top now.

“The one where you fuck me, right here. Right now, on this desk.”

You could feel his pulse quickening against your hand, voice strained with need. “I should fail you right now for this.”

Brushing your lips against his earlobe, you whisper, “But you won’t, sir.”

Before you can react, in one, fluid motion strong arms lift you off the desk to splay you out so sinfully on it. You almost get whiplash from his pure strength, brought back only by the feeling of his muscular thighs warm against your ass.

“If you want that A, then prove how badly you need it.”

Your heart races as you nod, cheeks flaring with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. With a feral grin, you spread your legs apart, toying with that soaked g-string - exposing your bare pussy. Beads of slick pooling underneath you on the desk as the way Gojo’s eyes harden as you clench around nothing.

You trail your hands enticingly down, down down. A delicate finger swiping at your folds, collecting your juices - popping right into your mouth. A smug huff of laughter leaves you at the way Gojo’s mouth drops into a surprised oh!

“You’re such a lil’ fucking minx, princess.”

You needed him now.

Rubbing your thumb over your swollen clit, index finger bullying its way into your snug cunt the way you wanted Gojo to. You gasp, arching your back as waves of pleasure, “Oh, sir! Mmm- feel s’good inside me. Want more- hah-”

Pornographic whines of pleasure send blood rushing straight to Gojo’s cock. He was losing his mind at your little show. He was going insane.

“Your turn now.” you mewl,

Your hungry gaze was locked with Gojo’s as he stands, removing his belt and unbuckling his pants. Your eyes follow the movement greedily, mouth watering at the impressive size of his erection. Leaking tip furiously flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Delicate beads of precum smearing on the frantic, jerky movements of his fist up and down and up and down and-

It’s a silent staredown. Your fingers matching the delicious rhythm of his fist, urgently fucking yourselves to each other. Trying to see who would break first. Up and down up and down - in and out in and out. Faster.

“Didn’t think you were all talk, sir.”

That’s what makes the great Gojo Satoru break. Surging forward in hasty steps, your hands pinned to the cold surface of the desk, pussy now quivering in loneliness.

Smack!

“Count to five, then I’ll give what you want. If you can’t even do that then I don’t think you deserve an A, princess.”

“O-one.” You whine at the harsh hand that smacks your ass, large handprint stinging into your searing skin.

“This the hand?” Gojo whispers, voice ragged. Inspecting your hands before his tongue sticks out to lick a long, languid stripe up your fingers, pooling your juices on his tongue. Pretty blue eyes rolling to the back of his head as he licks your fingers clean so filthily.

Electricity courses through your veins as his long fingers deftly rip off your flimsy g-string, pocketing it safely in his work pants. You have half the mind to snark about it before you register Gojo’s throbbing cock flush against your pussy, leaking tip teasing in between your dripping folds leisurely.

Your slick mixing with his precum, trailing down down down his glistening length, pooling on where he tightly gripped his base - splattering onto the hardwood office floor with a deafening tap! tap! tap! that matched the heartbeat in your ears.

“Beg for it, princess.”

“Hmmm, no.”

Smack! Smack!

“Ah! Three! Hah- please, sir.”

You didn’t even know exactly what you were begging for - but you got exactly what you wanted. Breath catching in your throat at the way Gojo pushed into you with a raspy grunt, cock hot and heavy against your fluttering walls.

His sheer size makes you feel like you’ll split apart any second now, but oh how you desperately wanted to be broken by him.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Gojo began to thrust. Shallow, mindless strokes, each one just to drive his enormous cock deeper to fit into your snug, ravaged cunt.

“Fuck me, please, sir. Need you feel me up insi-”

Smack!

“...four.” you whisper, voice strained with need and frustration.

Ass sore, marks probably there for days. Your words catch pathetically in your throat as Gojo loses grip on his restraint - or his sanity - whichever one would break you first. Sheathing himself inside your dripping heaven till his heavy balls smacked your clit, your ass flush against the neat tufts of white at his pelvis.

Wasting no time, Gojo starts up at an uncontrollable, merciless pace, every inch of him being forced all the way into your snug pussy. Your walls suck him up greedily as his prominent veins throb and graze just right on all your sweet spots.

“This what you wanted, princess?” he rasps out, pace unwavering. “This is what you wanted, right? To be fucked like the pretty little slut that you are, huh?”

“Yes! Yes, please, sir.”

Each ramming of his cock drives you further and further up the cold desk, a pathetic little ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth at each slam. Knees weakened by his relentless pounding, you didn’t know how you were gonna hold yourself up anymore-

Ah, but you didn’t have to. Gojo Satoru, ever the gentleman, wrapped a single, muscular arm under your hips, kneading the skin underneath his fingertips, fucking you deeper onto his cock as if you were his personal fucktoy.

“Oh fuck! Hngh- sir, right there.” you yelp at the new angle, his furiously flushed tip kissing your cervix so painfully good, g-spot abused as he grazes it over and over.

Smack!

“Ah, sir! Five-”

And then you’re cumming. Hips pushing back animalistically, fucking yourself through your high. Chasing peak after peak.

Boneless and exhausting, dripping cunt clamping down on him you mewl, “Fill me up inside, sir! Wanna feel it dripping down my legs.” At the sound of your voice, Gojo’s eyes rolled back, his features contorted in pure ecstasy as his cock twitches savagely inside you, finally letting himself release. Cum gushing out in thick, pulsating spurts.

Filling your abused pussy to the brim, coating your walls an obscene white. Gojo keeps fucking himself through it, milking even the last drops of his length on your cunt. Breaths ragged, hips animalistic, low murmurs of your name leaving his lips.

And as his climax bates into nothing more but mere tingles, lust-hazed, tired ears catch the distant knocking from outside. Ah, right that appointment.

Blinking back the vision to his eyes, he looks down at you. All fucked-out, swollen lips pouty, and his cum dribbling enticingly down your thighs. Oh how he just wants to bite into you - or have half the mind to just send you out there like this to show all those college losers who you belong to.

Or, he thinks, eyes twinkling as he looks down at the generously large space under his desk.

You catch his gaze, a dangerous glint in them as he maps every curve and dip of your body. Marked and so very obviously his. Your pretty lips falling into a soft oh! as you realize just what idea was forming behind those darkened blue eyes.

“Come in.”

Before you know it, you’re shoved hastily under the desk, Gojo’s still-furiously flushed tip kissing your bruised lips as the door swings open. God, if every assignment was like this then you’d probably end up valedictorian…

A/N. Can’t believe this got me b@nned for like a hour bro pls.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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