Welcome to Melancholy Hell

Alison. 28. she/her they/them. Just a struggling artist and anime nerd.

[currentlycryingaboutlancelot]

“yes, I’ve been wanting to read that!” I say with complete earnestness, as I proceed to ignore every opportunity I have to read it

[pelahnar]

“I’ve been meaning to read/watch/listen to that, but the stars are not in position, so I can’t do it yet”

[maxxie-or-smth]

you've met me at a very "yeah i'm trying to work on that" time in my life

[touchmytylenol]

⋆₊˚⊹♡ BOOBS ♡⊹˚₊⋆

[lowpawly]

people foolishly dismiss desserts and treats as having no nutritional value when they actually are necessary for refilling your sanity stat. to prove my point please observe the emotional stability of the next person you meet who doesnt let themselves ever eat any form of dessert

[mephisto-reporting]

And that's the part that's making me lose my fucking mind.

We lost an entire section of the MAIN STORY.

The livestream literally told us Valko's release was going to reveal more about the Aethercore—one of the biggest mysteries in Love and Deepspace and something that's been central to the plot from the very beginning.

So now what?

You think they can just delete him and nothing changes?

Do people genuinely think you can rip out an entire story arc without consequences?

Everything that was supposed to be revealed through Valko now has to be rewritten, redistributed, or outright cut. The main story is going to have to be retconned. Future updates are going to have to be reworked. Characters may have to be rewritten just to fill the gap he leaves.

If you're celebrating this because you "won," I sincerely hope you understand what you've actually cheered for.

You guys fucking derailed the story.

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃'𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄! ❞

❝ A PUNK ROCK DRUMMER AND HE'S SIX-FOOT-THREE !! ❞

✧ pairing: older brother! choso kamo x best friend! reader

✧ summary: you've been asked whether you and yuji are together a million times - but the truth is his brother is more your type -- so what happens when you end up sharing a bed one night?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, reader is two years younger than choso (same age as yuji), (all in their 20s but age is vague), bed sharing, switch! choso, soft dom! choso, sub! choso, oral (m), handjob (m), dry humping, fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, implied itafushi, implied bi king yuji, a little angst with choso, but a lot of comfort, cuddling, nobara hijinks, art by @/yume041624

✧ wc: 5,597

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 2 has been sold to one anon!

Yuji Itadori was not your boyfriend. 

It was a sentence you had to say probably as many times as Yuji had to tell people you weren’t his girlfriend. It was the first thing people asked when they saw the two of you together, or some iteration of “you two are soooo cute together,” “you’re the perfect couple,” or your favorite, “when’s the wedding?” 

The last one you liked to answer with when hell froze over. 

And it wasn’t because Yuji wasn’t attractive — he was. He was cute, athletic, loyal to a fault, somewhat intelligent when he put his two brain cells together, and had a really nice smile. But you said that with all of the platonic energy in the universe — because if anyone asked you to kiss Yuji (year seven, a dare that went horribly wrong, and ended with you shoving Yuji into someone’s lap) — you would probably laugh or puke. 

Whichever naturally came first (or possibly both). 

But the good thing was Yuji felt the exact same way — he saw you as a sister, someone he respected, loved, but never romantically — you knew that by the way he barely had reacted when he had barged into your bathroom when you were getting dressed from your shower still, and just promptly just shut the door with a shouted, “sorry!” 

You glance to your right, at Yuji who was playing a video game beside you on the couch — No, your type was not the golden retriever, stare into your eyes longingly, and bring that boy home to your parents — no, your eyes slid over to your left, your type was…his older brother. 

Jet black locks that hung to his shoulders, inked tattoos peeking out from beneath his black t-shirt, bags under his eyes as dark as his gaze itself, and his perfect lips were curled in a small smirk — at you.

Choso Kamo was absolutely your type — except for the fact he was your best friend’s older brother. That little problem still niggled into the forefront of your mind, even as you saw him lick his lips out of the corner of your eye, the rounded metal piercing on his tongue glinting in the fluorescent lights of the basement. Your eyes drew back to the TV screen where Yuji was badly losing a fighting game online, toying with your phone in your hands. 

“Yo bro, are you headed back to school tonight?” Choso went to a college couple hours away — his break nearly over now — while you and Yuji went to a nearby university, two years behind Choso. 

“Yeah, I’m going to make the drive tonight, probably get there before midnight or just after,” he sighs, raking his painted fingernails through his hair, “when do you two head back?” 

“Next week,” you replied, watching Yuji fall into sudden death in his match, “Yuji promised to help me move this time, and not blow me off to help his boyfriend move this time,” 

“Fushiguro isn’t my boyfriend,” he snaps, and the other player takes him out, Yuji glares at you, knuckles white against the controller, “look what you did,” he grumbles, tossing the controller onto the table, clattering against the wooden surface. 

“Careful, you break another controller, and your dad will kill you,” you smirk, “if you weren’t so sensitive about Fushiguro, you wouldn’t have lost!” 

His cheeks are stained an incriminating red, as he gets up and stalks off, muttering something about getting a soda from upstairs, and he’s gone in a flash, as you chuckle, far too pleased with your work — a little more prodding, and maybe you’d win that bet with Nobara about Yuji and Megumi getting together on the first day back. 

“So, is that Fushiguro kid good enough for him?” Choso’s voice snaps you from your thoughts, as Choso raises an eyebrow, a smile pulling at his lips. 

“Who’s really good enough for Yuji?” But you add, “but Fushiguro’s a good guy. He’d be a good match for Yuji,” 

“And what about you?” 

You tilt your head, your heart stutters in your chest, “What about me?” 

“Who’d be a good match for you?” And you bite your bottom lip — you can’t be honest can you? How could you? Yuji had no idea how you felt and if he did, he may be horrified at the thought of you dating his older brother. But what if he wasn’t? And what if — your eyes meeting his own — you didn’t care? 

But you don’t get to reply as Yuji comes bounding back down the stairs, bad mood already dissipated in the short few minutes he was gone, as he tosses you your favorite drink and does the same with his brother, “what I’d miss?” 

You rolled around in bed, tossing from side to side — until you sighed again, resting on your stomach. You were so stupid. You had all day with Choso, all day to say something — to steer the conversation back to what you were talking about before. But no, you couldn’t. The three of you had dinner together, and you watched Choso leave, bags in hand, as you did the last two years. 

He and Yuji clap hands together, as he ruffles his little brother’s hair as always, “Don’t do anything stupid okay? Visit your dad as much as you can. And let me know if you want to visit,” and his eyes find yours, “the both of you,” 

And his palm comes to ruffle your hair as usual, leaning far too close for your heart’s sake, 

“Be good ok?” And god, you have to force yourself not to shiver, as you nod, “Yuji, let her sleep in my room. She shouldn’t be forced to sleep on your couch again.”

“I always tell her to take my bed but she always says no—“ 

“That’s because your mattress sucks—“ 

“Well mine doesn’t,” Choso cuts in, and fuck, why does that make you press your thighs together discreetly, “So just sleep in there, ok?” 

And now that’s where you find yourself, in Choso’s bed, in the room that Yuji’s dad had set up for him to use — it was relatively neat, a guitar left in the corner that he often used when he was here to practice — the one he had been sleeping in for the last month, the bedroom you’d pass each night and wish you had the courage to knock on his door, let the door swing open as you leaned close to him, fingers resting on his shoulder, breath warming your lips before you finally—

This wasn’t helping, you groaned into his pillow, and neither was the fact that this entire bed smelled like him — like musk and spice and something that’s so distinctly him. So distinctly him that you can’t ignore the ache between your legs, as your traitorous mind summoned images of him lying shirtless in bed — you knew from how his t-shirt would ride up that his body was far more toned than he looked and from when his chest pressed against your back when he reached for a plate from the table. 

Fuck. You buried your face into the pillow again, you would be lucky to sleep an hour, much less a full night. But finally, you do drift off into Hypnos’s realm, however brief it is. 

Until you’re awoken by rustling, you turn on the bed, consciousness stirring, as you hear the sounds of shifting again and your eyes blink open only to see a shirtless Choso standing in front of you. 

You nearly pinch yourself to ensure your sinful thoughts before bed hadn’t betrayed you (and you do discreetly, as you stare at each other), “Choso?” You ask, voice thick with sleep, despite your body being far too awake for its own good, as your eyes finally dart away from the expansive view that is his bare chest, “what are you—“ 

“The roads got bad while I was driving back, it’s raining really hard — I got drenched even just heading from the car to the house,” he pulls on a shirt, “sorry I just came to grab a shirt—“ 

“Do you wanna sleep in your bed?” You move to get up, but he shakes his head, his hand finding your head again, as he ruffles your hair, “I can sleep in Yuji’s room — it’s fine,” 

His lips quirk, “No, it’s okay — I’ll take the couch in his room, it’s not a problem,” 

There was a problem — Yuji had locked his door before bed — the idiot. And once he was asleep, he slept like the dead — and the only way to wake him was the scream your throat raw, or a necromancy blood  ritual — whichever was simpler. 

“You can take your bed, I can sleep on the floor,” you chew your lip as you watch him set up a sheet and blanket on the floor of his room, “Choso—“ 

“I’m not going to have you sleep on the floor,” he raises an eyebrow, as he lays back, “just go back to bed, I’m sorry I woke you,” 

You shake your head, “you’re fine,” and you glance at the bed — there was enough space for both of you, wasn’t there? “we could share the bed—“

“No,” 

“It would be fine—“ and he seems unconvinced, his dark eyes finding yours again, cutting off your train of thought, “what?” 

“Do you always insist on sharing a bed with a guy?” And your cheeks burn, eyes unable to meet his as you glance at your phone, “you should be more careful,” 

“I trust you, and Yuji,” you add, chewing your bottom lip — you were veering into dangerous territory,  “I wouldn’t do this with anyone else,” 

“Really?” 

“Really,” and he reaches up, you think to ruffle your hair again, but instead his fingers brush his cheek, long fingers trailing the length of your cheekbone, “Choso—“ 

“Go to sleep, we can talk in the morning,” and his fingers fall away as quickly as they come, as he turns away, his black locks fanned out on his pillow, “good night,” 

“Night,” you murmur, as your eyes rest on his back — how was he so close yet so far? You barely remember a time he wasn’t there — he had found Yuji when he was in middle school — right after his grandfather had passed away. You were by Yuji’s side, holding his hand, when Choso tapped on his brother’s shoulder. And it wasn’t love at first sight — you were overprotective of Yuji, but Choso took his time to gain your trust with actions — until he had gained a lot more than just your trust — he had gained your heart along with it. 

And even now, those adolescent feelings still lingered, and he remained just barely out of reach. Close enough to touch, but not enough to breach. 

You close your eyes finally, maybe it wasn’t meant to be. 

You barely drift off when you hear the sounds of soft cries and even a whimper — your mind is pulled from the arms of sleep into reality, eyes fluttering open to only find the darkness of night, the barest glimmer of moonlight let in by the cracks of the curtains, and you see him. 

Choso. His teeth dug into his bottom lip, fingers clutching at his blanket — his knuckles nearly white, his brow formed valleys seemingly as deep as his fear. His breath left his lips in short pants, and you’re climbing off the bed before you can think. 

Yuji had told you Choso hadn’t had the best upbringing. You didn’t know much, but you had known Choso had grown up taking care of his other siblings, left to be a father instead of an older brother. And his father…had abused all of them when he had bothered to be around — Choso taking the worst of it. 

You’re at side, but you don’t know what to do — your fingers shake as you reach to touch him, but you don’t know if that will only scare him more, “Choso, you’re safe,” you said softly, “I’m going to touch you okay? You’re safe, you’re okay — come here, I’ll keep you safe,” and your fingers graze lightly against his brow, smoothing it’s ceases before running your fingers through his hair, “no one can hurt you,” and your other hand eases his fingers from his blanket, intertwining your fingers, “you’re okay,” 

And his body slowly grows more limp, the tension ebbing away with each second, as his breathing slowed, your name leaving his lips, “I-I’m sorry,” you shush him gently, “I—“

“Come onto the bed,” you murmur, and he’s shaking his head, “Choso, it’s okay, it’ll be fine.” 

His eyes slowly flutter open, but instead of fear, you only find sadness, “But what if…I hurt you somehow?” His voice is soft, and you almost chuckle at the thought of him hurting you. 

“You could never hurt me, I know you, Choso,” you tug him by his hand lightly, “come on, please?” 

You get onto the bed first, and he slowly follows, the bed dipping with his weight beside you. Your heart squeezes at the warmth of his body being so close, your fingers hesitantly reaching for him, and his arm slowly wraps around your middle, giving you enough time and space for you to move away (you don’t),  “Thank you,” he murmurs, and your lips curl in a soft smile. 

“Of course,” you say, and you inch even closer, as his breaths slow and warm your skin, and your eyes finally flutter shut too. And as you slip back into sleep — you wonder if you’ll truly wake to only realize this was a dream. 

Choso had watched you and Yuji grow up — well, he was still growing up too — it felt as if he had aged so much faster the way he grew up. When he found out about Yuji from his deadbeat father, Choso went looking for him — only to find him with a death announcement — Yuji’s grandfather’s. Choso knew what it was like to lose family — the wounds never would heal, it was a poison that seeped into every crevice of your body, and hung on your bones like weights. But even so, Choso didn’t know Yuji — and he didn’t know how he’d react to a random person showing up to his grandfather’s funeral. 

But he did anyway — and he was so glad he did, because he not only found his brother, but he found you too. 

You — Yuji’s best friend, and who he thought his little brother would eventually date, even despite his protests that the two of you were just friends. You, who had encouraged Yuji to spend time with him, while guarding him as you did, eyes sharp and evaluating around his presence. But that eased with time — and with time, you both had grown up. 

You had grown up to be even more beautiful than he thought was possible. And it wasn’t just your appearance — that had shedded the second skin of insecurity and awkwardness that came with adolescence — but it was everything. Even more than before, you radiate warmth, the same kind of warmth his brother did, but instead of a blinding sun, you were soft light that enveloped those you wished to.  

And this past month had been an exercise of self control if not torture. Seeing you in the mornings, hair askew as you emerged before Yuji did, a soft smile that he only could hope was reserved for him. Voice thick with sleep as you told him ‘good morning,’ and it was — every time he got to wake to the sight of you. 

This morning was no exception, but only cemented that fact.  

Although, now that he was waking up beside you, maybe he was wrong, maybe you were blinding — because you blinded from seeing every ounce of logic he thought he had. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, your soft breaths tickling his skin, as his fingers tucked a few stray strands of hair behind your ear. 

How were you so beautiful? The back of his finger traced the slope of your jaw, no one should be allowed to be this ethereal — especially while they slept. Your feet stuck out of the blanket, and he fixed it, making sure you were warm enough, but he only succeeded in making you stir. 

He froze as you only nuzzled into him further, your fingers grasping at the front of his shirt, while your legs further entangled with his, your waist, pressed right against his and…a particular problem presented itself. 

Fuck. 

He needed to leave the bed, but how would he without waking you? He carefully slipped his arm away from you, trying his best to detangle your legs from his own. But only for your eyes to flutter open anyway — his breath catching as your half asleep gaze meets his, your lips curling into a soft smile. 

“Morning,” you murmur, voice still thick with sleep, and god, he hopes you can’t hear or feel how his heart skips a beat at the sound of your voice. You don’t seem the slightest bit concerned at the proximity, your eyes opening and shutting still, “are you okay?” 

“I am, thanks to you,” he murmurs, his cheeks warming at the sight of your sleepy smile, as you rubbed your eyes, “did you sleep okay?” 

“I did, I think I slept the best I had in weeks,” you admit, as you blink away sleep, and really look at him — only to find him staring, “what?” 

“You’re just…really beautiful,” and he delights in your eyes darting away from his shyly, and his fingers brush against your chin, guiding your gaze back to his, “you really have no idea what you do to me, do you?” 

And he feels your breath catch — and he wonders if he’s crossed a line, if he should back off, if he had rung a bell that should have never been touched — but your fingers curl around his, lips parted, “Then why don’t you show me?” 

He swallows thickly, as he draws closer, thumb rubbing the length of your cheek, and you let him — putty in his hands, “Can I kiss you?” And you nod wordlessly, and he doesn’t wait any longer, his lips brush yours. 

It’s chaste, barely a kiss at all, lips parting far too soon, but he can’t help but hesitate, he wants this to be right, he never would want to hurt you — never wanted to even approach that line, much less toe it. But by the way your fingers threaded in his long locks, finding purchase on the back of his neck to only kiss him — he figures he’s fine. 

But fuck, you’re more than just fine. You’re everything, everything to him. 

Your lips glide against his so utterly softly, his tongue dragging against the seam of your lips, and you part them for him with ease. He swallows your moan eagerly as he tastes you, as your fingers tug at his shirt, urging him on top, as you roll onto your back for him. 

“But—we shouldn’t—” he bites his lip, “Yuji—” 

“Who the fuck cares about Yuji right now?” and you’re climbing on top of him this time, your clothed cunt dragging teasingly over his morning wood, as a gasp escaped his lips, “you’re a lot more honest down south, Choso,” you tug your shirt over your head, tossing it onto the floor, his eyes widen, raking over your exposed skin, gasping when you lightly grind down on his already tenting erection, “Yuji doesn’t need to know, as long as we’re quiet,” and you lean down to kiss him. 

All sense leaves his mind — right as your lips find his again, and your hands slip under his shirt, the sounds of your kisses ring in his ear, your lips quirking up when your teeth graze against his bottom lip and he groans. 

Your fingers pull at the hem of his shirt, and he leans up, helping you toss it onto the ground to join your shirt, “I thought you liked Yuji,” he murmurs, “I never thought you would—“ 

“Yuji is my friend — my best friend. The only thing we’ve ever come close to sharing is a kiss when we were kids because of a dare, and even then, I had pushed him away,” and you smile that same way that had stolen his breath time and time again, “but I’d never dream of pushing you away, Cho—“ 

And he’s flipped you under him, your back pressed against the mattress, your breath caught in your throat, as his lidded gaze finds yours, “Even if I make you scream?” His fingers trace down your cheek, the length of your jaw, across your collarbone and down the valley of your breasts, “you won’t mind letting Yuji hear you then? Hear how good I make you feel?” He murmurs, and you whimper as his fingertips breach the edge of your bra, teasing the perked peaks underneath, “won’t push me away when I push into you?” 

“Choso,” you gasp, as his fingers roll your nipples between his fingers, “fuck—“ 

“You have such a filthy mouth for someone so innocent,” he murmurs, voice gliding over your body like velvet, “have to put your mouth to good use, won’t I, baby?” And his fingers glide down your stomach now, teasing the waistband of your shorts, “you like it when I talk like this? I wonder how much,” he hums, his eyes finding yours, looking for confirmation as his fingers drag down gen elastic of your shorts, and sees the wet patch of your slick, “been waiting for this as much as I’ve been, baby?” 

“Yes, please,” you whine, and he’s teasing your hardened clit through the wet fabric, “been waiting so long, Cho, please—“ 

“You were so bold before,” and his lithe fingers are tugging your underwear aside as his fingers circle the outside of your cunt, “does it only take a few touches to have you so pliant under me?” 

You pout, and it’s so unfair how adorable you look — god, it was always so unfair how cute you looked — “Please, don’t tease me,” 

“How can I not when I waited for this for so long?” he kisses the length of your collarbone, sending a shiver down your body, his knees pressing your thighs apart, as his thumb presses teasingly against your clit, “tell me, how long have you waited?” 

“Choso—” you whine, but it falls on deaf ears, even as your hips try to grind against his touch, he’s pressing your hips back down, “I-I don’t know,” but he knows from the way from your forearm covers your face out of embarrassment that you do. 

“I know you do, sweetheart,” and he’s easing your arm from your face, thumb dragging down your kiss bitten lips, “don’t hide from me,” he murmurs, “you’re too pretty to hide,” 

“Please, just touch—“ and a gasp parts your lips again, back of your head pressing into the pillow as a single digit works it’s way inside your fluttering walls, the wet squelch of your walls against his finger nearly enough to make him cum in his boxers there and then, “Cho, so good,” and god, he’s reaching a hand into his boxers to palm at his aching erection. 

“So fucking wet f’me, baby, just for me, right?” and you’re nodding wordlessly, his finger was so much longer and thicker than your own, “can’t wait to sink inside you, baby,” and he’s adding another finger, slowly working you open, toying and teasing you until the moans he’d dreamed of spill from your lips again and again. His palm grasps desperately at his weeping erection, imagining your smaller fingers around his cock, 

“Choso, s’close, can’t—” a soft groan leaves your lips. 

“Cum around my fingers, pretty, fall apart for me,” he grunts, and his thumb bares down on your clit, and you’re tipping over the edge, as your mouth falls open, back arching as you cum hard, pleasure ripping up your body, as he finger fucks you through your orgasm. Your eyes flutter open slowly, as he pulls his fingers from you slowly, your slick clinging to his fingers. You watch him as he presses his fingers into his mouth, sucking his fingers clean of your cum, “best thing I’ve ever tasted, baby,” and he’s leaning to press a kiss to your lips, swallowing your moans with ease, as he lets you taste yourself on his tongue. 

And you’re rolling him over onto his back, as his dark gaze finds yours, as you kiss your way down his body, until you settle between his thighs, “My turn to taste you,” you look up with half lidded eyes and curled lips — and his cock twitches even before you even lay a finger on him.  Your fingers tug down at the elastic of his waistband of his shorts and pull them down with ease, eyes glazing over as you stared at his bulge, tip weeping against his boxers, a large wet patch that your fingers brushed against. 

“I wasn’t the only one who was eager, Choso,” your fingers graze his tip, teasing his slit  through the damp fabric, drawing a hiss from his lips, “such a pretty noise,” you press your thighs together, “wonder what other noises I can pull from these lips,” 

“Pretty, fuck—“ he grunts as you tug his boxers down finally, his cock slapping against his stomach, as your eyes seemingly dilate at the sight of him. 

“You’re the pretty one, pretty boy,” his cock was lovely flushed red, pearly bead of pre-cum dripping from his slit — and god, he’s really sensitive, keening as your fingers wrap lightly around his tip, smearing his pre down his length, “now, who’s gonna be the one to wake Yuji? Gonna let your brother how good it feels have his best friend touch you?” And his cock twitches at the thought, and you don’t miss it, as your fingers begin to slide down to his base, “oh, you want him to hear us? Want him to hear me suck you off too?” And your lips press a chaste kiss to his tip, his hips jerking, as the tip of your tongue traced his weeping slit. 

A whine leaves his throat, as your mouth envelops him now, fingers touching what your mouth couldn’t take, your tongue running along his veins. 

God, you’re a fucking vision, he nearly blows his load in your mouth as his eyes flutter open to watch you — head bobbing and sucking at his cock, a mix of his precum and your spit dribbling out of the corner of your mouth. His fingers thread in your hair, as he resists the urge to fuck your mouth. 

And he’s easing you off, your lips removed with a pop, a string of your saliva and his pre connecting you to his aching erection. 

“Such a good girl,” he’s pressing his thumb on your tongue, letting you swallow his precum, “fuck, baby, please, I need you,” 

And he’s got you under him again, your legs folded and pressed against your chest, long fingers pressing into his soft flesh,  “Choso, fuck me, I need—“ your words cut off as you moan as he drags his cock against your fluttering cunt, your thighs quiver and shake from anticipation, “ngh— ah, stop teasing me,” 

“You’ve been teasing me for so long, baby, can I have two minutes?” His tip sinks into you, far too fucking slow, “wanna make this last, been dreaming about this for too long, wanna make you feel good—” now that he’s had a taste, he can’t go a moment without it, your skin the sweetest thing he ever had — he’s no better than a desert wanderer gulping water down for the first time — because now he can’t help but want you swallow you whole.  

You whimper, and he can’t hold back anymore at the sight of large tears pooling in your eyes, and he’s sinking into you, inch by inch — and god, your warmth is so much fucking better than he could have ever imagined. And he had, with guilt gnawing at him, as his fingers jerked his pulsing cock off, imagining that it was your pretty pussy he was cumming in, instead of his fist. 

You swallow him whole instead, your needy cunt pulling him deeper and deeper, until he finally bottoms out. “Princess cunt gonna make me cum before I even fuck you, baby,” he’s groaning, and your walls flutter around him, tugging him in even before he tries to pull out. 

“S’big, Choso — I’m so full, baby,” you’re moaning, fingers trying to find purchase on something, anything, but even so your legs are parting more for him, as he slowly starts to fuck you. 

The smacks of your skin meeting his echoes in his ears again and again, your hips rising to meet his thrusts, and he’s so fucking deep — you swear you can feel him in your stomach, tip surely brushing against your cervix. 

His grunts only make you wetter, as he pistons his hips desperately, murmuring sweet words in your ear about how perfect you were, how good you were taking him, and how he couldn’t wait to fill you up. 

Your eyes squeeze shut as large tears slip down your cheeks, that he thumbs away, finding your lips in a sloppy, messy kiss as he splits you open, “Cho, fuck, please I’m s’close,” 

“Cum for me, baby, cum all over my cock,” and his fingers are reaching down, rubbing circles over your clit just as his cock finds that spot that has your back arching and pleasure running up your spine. And you’re gone, squirting all over him, unable to even be embarrassed as he fucks you through your orgasm, his low groan at the fucking mess you’ve made of his sheets and his cock — ring of white forming around his base, as he fucks you through your orgasm, “g’nna cum, where—“ 

“Inside,” and that’s all it takes for him to fall over the edge with you, his cum painting your walls, spurting as his hips slowed as he fucked his release into you, slowly easing your wobbly legs down, groaning again as he pulls his softening dick from your messy cunt, watching your mixed releases spill from inside you. 

He’s rolling off of you, lying beside you, as he cuddles you, burying his face in the nape of your neck, pressing sweet kisses to your still burning skin, “Are you okay?” He murmurs, leaning back, as he runs his fingers through your hair. And his gaze is impossibly soft with concern only for you, “are you in any pain? Do you need—“ 

And you kiss him softly, still full of need, but just for his presence, for his touch, for him, all of him. 

“All I need is you right now, okay?” His cheeks grow even more flushed, eyes shying away, even after all the two of you had done. And as the afterglow ebbs away, your anxieties creep back in — was this just a one time thing? Did he really even like you? Or was this just a matter of circumstance? You were almost too afraid to ask but you were too afraid not to, “Choso—“ 

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks, cutting off your sentence, and he’s biting his lip, “sorry did I cut you off-“ and you kiss him again, smiling against his lips, as you pull away, eyes shining, “is that a yes?” 

You laugh, “What do you think?” And you kiss him again. And again, and then a thought occurs to you, “you don’t think Yuji heard us right?” 

And Choso considers it, checking his phone, “No, he would have been giving us shit about it by now,” and he smiles, “but like you said before, I really don’t want to talk about my brother right now,” and his lips find yours again, “we can worry about telling him later.” 

You both have a very late start by the end of this. But the next time someone asked you if Yuji was your boyfriend, at least you could say something else: 

You’d smile, and shake your head, showing off your lock screen of you and Choso, “No, my best friend’s brother is the one for me.” 

“You owe me 5,000 yen,” Yuji says over the phone, grinning, “I told you they would hook up by the end of the break,” 

Kugisaki whines on the other end of the phone, “Fuck, you rigged this, Itadori — I know you must have,” 

“It’s not my fault the roads were bad when he was going back to school,” although it was his fault that his brother couldn’t sleep in his room and had no choice but to sleep in his room — but Kugisaki didn’t need to know that, “at least you didn’t have to hear them all morning,” 

She laughs, “Oh please, it’s not like I haven't walked in on you and Fushiguro making out, what twice now?” 

Yuji’s cheeks flush, “Shut up! And don’t tell anyone about that. She won’t ever let me hear the end of it, and Choso — you know what he did to my ex girlfriend, he practically interrogated her,” he really didn’t want to subject Megumi to that — not yet at least. 

“Yeah, yeah, then you better treat me to lunch when we’re back on campus,” and he opens his mouth to reply, “or I might just let it slip to your bestie that you actually don’t have classes on Tuesday and that’s the day you’re gonna spend at Fushiguro’s place,” 

“…Nowhere too expensive, okay?” 

“You don’t get to make demands in this situation.” 

✧ a/n: my itafushi heart popped off sorry hahah. this was a fun concept and i hope you guys enjoyed it!! thank god this one wasn't as long as my last celebration fic :). i was able to finish it in like two days, rather than like a week lmao. i will be doing my original concept for the celebration fic -- it's just taking a different form :) and didn't quite fit these prompts / request like i wanted it to. also yes the title is from that victorious song lmao.

✧ taglist: @celestie0, @that-goth-bisexual, @jj333sworld, @nysrevenge, @gojolvrr34, @crazychaoticizzy, @sunnyf4lls, @ahniebeauxbonnie, @sukaibg, @rrosieroo, @buffytheangelslayer, @alliereece, @strawmariee, @complexivelovely, @fushitoru, @telvess, @firelordazulaaaa, @peachyminx, @celestie0, @ririthedevil, @levyonthelevel, @awniie, @jj333sworld, @strangehuman101, @sailortongue, @nctstrcngencugh, @catsgomurp, @gojoedd, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @ch0c0bsess, @maybe-a-bi-witch, @teatreeoilll, @pricetagofficial,

[snail-day-deactivated20251016]

Suguru can be a bit manipulative… okay, maybe a lot. But can you really blame a guy for wanting his girlfriend to stay over for more than eight hours? It’s your first night at his place, and you’re just going to leave in the morning?

Yeah, that doesn’t sit right with him.

And it’s not like he’s even being pushy. You two haven’t done anything yet. Even though - god - there’ve been moments tonight where he’s sure his self-control is about to snap.

Like when he let you use his shower for the first time, and he had to pretend he wasn’t imagining what you looked like in one of his towels, hair dripping wet, skin flushed from the steam. Or how he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle you coming out smelling like him.

Or earlier, in the kitchen - your soft footsteps padding around, your voice all curious and sweet when you asked where he keeps the tableware. That little pout. Those eyes. The way your hips brushed against him when you reached for the cups, and his hands instinctively went to your waist. He prayed - begged - you didn’t feel the hard-on pressed against you. He's a religious man after all.

So when you’re finally nestled beside him in bed, wrapped in his dark, silky sheets, his arms, his scent - he’s desperately reminding himself: Don’t be a pervert. Don’t ruin this. You're too good to me. You're not ready. I’m not ready.

He’s not ready to see what your face looks like when he’s on top of you. Whether you're the type to reach for his hands. Whether you’d whine into his kisses and chase them like you’re addicted to him.

Of course he doesn't sleep well. Not with you so close. Not when he keeps pulling you tighter against him in the middle of the night. Not when all he can think is - Please don’t leave yet.

So, of course, he wakes up before you. Of course he adjusts the blinds just right - so the light doesn’t hit your eyes, but still kisses your skin like a cat sunbathing. Of course he tucks the comforter closer around you, warm and heavy, so you stay cocooned in comfort while he goes about his morning.

He checks in on you often. Teases you when you stir, coos about how sleepy you are. Laughs softly when you grab for his hand, half-conscious. And of course he’s going to make it feel like this is your idea. Staying a little longer. Getting cozy. Not rushing off.

Because the truth is - he doesn’t want you to leave. Is that really so bad?

[megumiluvv]

One day, Choso is confused when you cancel watching Yuji with no explanation. Usually, there’s a long apology and reasoning, usually a last-minute scheduling issue, but today? Radio silence. After getting his uncle over to watch Yuji, Choso walks next door to check on you, knowing he’ll be late to his nth part-time job.

When you don’t answer the door, he uses the spare key you gave him, and he calls for you. Still, no response.

He gets to your room to see you passed out on your bed, phone in hand with a half-typed explanation to him, and blankets twisting with your legs. Choso picks up your phone, reading the half-typed text with multiple spelling errors, able to make out “ghreq ip” and “um so sprty”, knowing it probably means “threw up” and “I’m so sorry”.

The dark-haired male frowns and shuts off your phone, putting it on the charger and onto your nightstand. He then shuts off your lamps and fixes your blanket. Choso then goes to your kitchen and calls into work, claiming he’s sick and can’t make it to work. He then starts to cook your favorite soup.

You wake up to the smell of food, the feeling of dread instantly occurs, thinking you accidentally cooked something while delirious after throwing up. You scramble out of bed and hurry into the kitchen and find none other than your neighbor cooking soup for you.

“Choso?” You mumble, sleepy and confused, throat hoarse from your earlier vomiting.

“Go back to bed,” he mumbles, not even turning to look at you as he continues to cook. “Actually, try the soup, does it need anything?”

He carefully blows on the spoon to cool the broth and then brings it to your lips. You taste the soup and nod.

“Good.” Is all you manage to say as you watch him cook. It never gets old. Watching how docile and domestic he can be while looking so imposing and menacing.

He lays you back in bed despite your protests, and leaves the room. He quickly returns with a bowl of soup and sits in front of you.

“Here, open up.”

“Nooo, go work, I’ll get you sick,” you mumble.

“Don’t care, open up, I already said I’m not working today.”

“Fiiine…”

He carefully cools each bite of soup for you and spoon feeds you. Choso smiles at your tired, sickly expression.

“Yuji’s with our uncle, if you were wondering,” he mumbles and feeds you, letting you sip your water.

“What was his name again?” You mumble.

“Sukuna. He instantly thought of something inappropriate when I said you cancelled today.”

“Oh god…”

“Yup. Instant smirk on his face.”

“What’d he say?”

“Said that you and I should be more careful.” Choso rolls his eyes at the innuendo left by his uncle’s words.

“He thinks I’m bedridden because… that’s so inappropriate…” It took you a while to get the innuendo, but when it did click, your cheeks flushed.

“Yeah, it is.” He agrees.

He goes back to feeding you instead of continuing the topic.

“Yuji misses you already. He said he wanted to play hide and seek today.”

“Maybe we’ll play next time.”

“I’m off work for the rest of the week.”

“Oh, guess I’ll have to wait til next week, then.”

“Who says my dear neighbor can’t visit any time when they feel better?”

“Right, we’re neighbors, friends, not just babysitter and employer, huh?” You smile, starting to feel better after eating.

“Yeah, we are, aren’t we?” He smiles too, always smiling when he sees yours. “Feel better and the three of us can all play.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m working on feeling better. Give me like, a day or two,” you mumble and lay down.

Choso chuckles and contemplates lying beside you, but doesn’t want your protests about getting him sick. He decides to let you rest and he fixes your covers, then puts up the leftover soup and cleans the dishes, staying quiet so he doesn’t wake you. He could get used to doing small things for you.

Masterlist

[sukunahs]

lonely hearts canyon! | ryomen sukuna

pairing: ryomen sukuna x fem!reader

summary: having to go canyoning with your (ex)boyfriend after finding out he cheated on you the night before was not your idea of a good time. Luckily your very attractive adventure guide Sukuna is there to help you forget your heartbreak!

word count: 3.4k

content: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, cheating (by reader's ex), piv sex, marathon sex, cunnilingus, sixty-nine, unprotected sex, marathon sex

a/n: went canyoning last week and couldn't stop running through this scenario in my head so here you GO

Signing up for canyoning with your boyfriend had seemed like a good idea at the time. A fun little adventure at the end of your holiday to bring the two of you closer than ever.

It seemed less like a good idea now, considering that last night you caught him fucking some waitress at the hotel you’d been staying at after he’d claimed to be going out to get some fresh air. 

But the excursion reservations had been paid in advance, and they were expensive, so despite the screaming match that the two of you had engaged in last night likely signalling the end of your relationship, here you both were standing at the adventure centre waiting to meet your guide. 

The two of you stood in stony silence, as you would likely remain throughout this little adventure and all through the flight home. You weren’t even sure you’d talk to him when you arrived back in your home country, likely opting to toss all of his shit out of your house and change the locks. Fuck him.

You could feel your boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend now, bristling beside you, desperate to say something. You wondered what line of argument he’d take this time - that he was so sorry and it was a mistake, or if he’d go back to blaming you for not giving him enough attention. 

But before he could say anything your guide appeared. He was massive, with soft pink hair slicked back with water, piercing red eyes, and a body that looked like it had been crafted by the gods themselves - sharp black tattoos running down his face and all over his muscles. 

You found yourself double checking that your mouth wasn’t agape, doing your best not to openly admire him. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of black swimming trunks and as he noticed you checking him out he shot you a charming smirk. 

That smile had you blushing, gaze darting down to the floor. You weren’t sure why you felt so guilty for thinking he was hot - it wasn’t like you were in a relationship anymore. 

“Canyoning right?” The guide asked, as he looked at you both, eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than your ex-boyfriend.

“Yeah. About that.” Your ex cut in. He looked tiny compared to the guide. “Is there any way we can get a refund? We’re not really feeling it.” 

The guide shrugged. “If you’re not feeling it you can leave, but we don’t give refunds.” His red eyes narrowed, gaze darting between the two of you, evidently sensing the tension. 

“No, it's fine, I wanna do it.” You said sweetly and your gaze swept over the guide. If your boyfriend could fuck some waitress you could certainly get your own back and flirt a bit with this guy. He was definitely hot enough. 

“That’s the spirit.” He said with a grin, ignoring the way your ex glowered at him, keeping his red eyes fixed on you. “What’s your name, angel?” 

You gave it to him, feeling your stomach flip over as he shook your hand. His hand was so much bigger than yours, calloused skin pressing against your soft palm, practically engulfing your hand in his. 

“Sukuna.” He said casually, the deep tone of his voice making you shiver. Your ex seemed to take notice of your flustered state, scoffing a little.

“No. We’re leaving.” He said firmly, sizing Sukuna up for a moment. 

“You can leave if you want. I’m going canyoning.” You spat back at your ex. You were sure that you’d have a much more pleasant time without him anyway. 

However, your ex seemed to be under the impression that you weren’t yet broken up, and was clearly threatened by Sukuna’s presence, so with an eye roll he agreed to tag along - obviously deciding that was a better option than leaving you alone with this very attractive man. 

So the two of you piled into Sukuna’s truck, wetsuits and harnesses in the back as he drove the two of you to the canyon. You ignored your ex through most of the journey, sitting up front with Sukuna, asking him a million questions about how he ended up becoming a guide and what he enjoyed doing in his free time.

He was infinitely more interesting than your ex was, the sort of man who enjoyed all things adrenaline, engaging with several extreme sports, always out in nature - hiking, surfing, canyoning, kayaking, skydiving - he did it all. 

Not only was he an interesting man for his range of hobbies, but he was also interested in you. Even though your life felt mundane compared to his, he listened intently to your answers to his questions - something that your ex-boyfriend had long stopped doing. 

The hike up the canyon was more of the same, the two of you walking ahead with Sukuna making you giggle endlessly. He was so easy and confident, it sent your heart racing in a way that it hadn’t in a long time with your ex. Sukuna was new and exciting, the type of person who could sweep you off your feet. 

You could feel your ex’s gaze burning into the back of your head the whole way to the top of the trail, but you paid him no mind. Even when he tried to convince Sukuna that you should turn back because it was too hot wearing the wetsuits he was brushed aside. It was clear that Sukuna had no interest in appeasing him, all of his focus on you. 

Reaching the top of the trail, Sukuna talked you both through the safety instructions, before leading you through the canyon. You had his full attention, with him praising you each time you did a big jump into the water, cooing at what a good job you were doing. Each time you hesitated he was encouraging you, his hands on your hips making sure that you were positioning yourself correctly for the bigger jumps. 

It was clear that your ex-boyfriend was furious, scoffing and glaring each time Sukuna made you giggle, rolling his eyes anytime Sukuna’s hands brushed against your body to guide you down the next feature of the canyon. You couldn’t really care less, heart racing not just from the adrenaline of jumping and sliding through the canyon but from how Sukuna was making you feel.

Towards the end of the canyon there was a long section of wading through water before you’d reach the final jump, and you found yourself and Sukuna walking a long way ahead of your ex, who was openly sulking behind you. 

“You guys are broken up right?” Sukuna asked, jerking his head back in the direction of your ex. 

“I guess it's obvious huh?” 

Sukuna chuckled. “Doesn't take a genius to work it out. What’d he do?” 

“Cheated on me.” You responded. It still made you feel sick to say out loud, what was he thinking, throwing away your relationship so carelessly? 

“He’s stupid.” Sukuna said with a shrug, red eyes roaming over you. “If I had someone as pretty as you I don’t think I’d be letting them go.” You went a deep shade of red, his deep tone sending a shiver through you. 

“Yeah well, maybe I should’ve chosen better in the first place.” You said quietly. 

Lost in thought, your foot hit a slippery rock beneath the water and you found yourself tripping forward, only for Sukuna to promptly grab you, his arm snaking easily around your waist as he pulled you up to your feet. “Careful.” He purred, “wouldn’t want you getting hurt out here.” 

You gazed up at him wide-eyed, your heart hammering in your chest at the close proximity. He leaned in close, his breath fanning across your face. “You know, if you wanna get back at him I’d be happy to help.” 

“I–” You considered that for a moment. It would be childish, it would make you no better than him. But Sukuna was very attractive, and you weren’t keen on going back to the hotel room with your ex tonight anyway. “I don’t know…”

Sukuna shrugged. “It's up to you, but I bet I can show you a better time than that loser ever did.” 

You approached the final jump and waited for your boyfriend to catch up. Sukuna let him go through first, unenthusiastically pointing out to him where in the pool of water he needed to land to avoid hitting any hidden rocks, doing the bare minimum to ensure that your ex came out of this experience still breathing. 

With you he took a lot longer. With your ex-boyfriend already down below, Sukuna had his hands braced on your body as he carefully positioned you on the ledge, giving a long explanation about where was safe and where wasn’t, his chest pressed against your back, the hairs on your neck standing up straight as he brought his lips close to your ear, asking if you understood his instructions. 

You nodded shyly as he stepped back, his deep voice encouraging you to do the jump, spurring you on as you leapt into the water, grinning and laughing as you swam up to the surface. You’d have to go canyoning more often - you weren’t expecting it to be this fun. 

Though it would’ve been a lot more fun if you didn’t have your ex-boyfriend glaring daggers at you right now.

Sukuna leapt from the ledge, splashing into the water and praising you for your jump, ruffling your hair affectionately as the two of you climbed out of the water, joining your ex on solid ground where he was standing with his arms folded, his expression enraged. Sukuna gave him a nod and brushed past, beckoning the two of you to follow him back to the van. 

You’d tried to climb into the front seat of the van next to Sukuna like you had on the drive to the canyon, only to be pushed back by your ex who promptly took your space. He clambered into the chair and slammed the door shut, leaving you to awkwardly shuffle into the back. 

Sukuna’s red eyes met yours in the mirror as you sheepishly buckled yourself in, but neither of you said anything. Sukuna was on the clock and he wasn’t prepared to start a fight with a client and get himself fired, and considering the volatile state that your ex seemed to be in you didn’t want to start conflict right now either. 

The ride back was silent, and as you jumped out of the van your ex-boyfriend was quick to grab your wrist, saying nothing as he pulled you over towards your rental car, clearly wanting to get away as quickly as possible.

“What’s the rush?” Sukuna’s deep voice sounded from behind you. 

“Are you fucking kidding dude?” Your ex hissed as he turned around to face the man. If you weren’t so uncertain about what was going to happen next you would have laughed - your ex seemed so small trying to stand up to Sukuna. “Quit trying to fuck my girlfriend, its embarassing.” 

Sukuna smirked. “You think she’s your girlfriend? Does she know that?” 

“Fucking obviously, we came here as a couple.” Your ex spat. “You’re way out of line.” 

“Hmmm, is that how you see it, angel?” Sukuna asked, turning his gaze to you, seemingly unbothered by the seething man currently squaring up to him. You weren’t surprised that he was so fearless, your ex had less than half the muscle that Sukuna did, if it came to physical blows you had no doubt in your mind who would come out on top. 

“No.” You said simply, looking at your ex. “I thought I made it pretty clear last night that we’re done.” 

“Babe, you were just over-reacting like always - you can’t really be about to throw away our relationship because of this guy.” Your ex had turned to you now, pointing back at Sukuna accusingly. 

“You threw away our relationship when you fucked that waitress.” You hissed, before taking a step towards Sukuna, gazing up at the pink-haired man. “Can I go back to your place? I don’t really have anywhere to stay tonight.” You asked sweetly. 

A big, victorious grin crossed Sukuna’s face as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Of course you can, angel.” 

And that’s how you ended up on Sukuna's couch, well, Sukuna’s lap to be more specific, bouncing on his cock like your life depended on it. 

He’d wasted no time getting you to his place, crashing his lips against yours in the hallway of his apartment, tugging your summer dress up over your head and leaving you in your bikini as he dragged you over to the couch. 

Taking his time, he’d worshipped your body like you were a goddess, pinching and licking at your tits until you were pushing him away from overstimulation, biting at your neck and shoulders, scattering purple marks all over your skin, teasing his fingers along your pussy through your bikini until you were begging him to touch you properly. 

He’d stripped you of your remaining clothes, and you expected him to get straight to it, moving on quickly to the main event just like your ex-boyfriend always would. But instead his head was between your legs, licking and sucking at your pussy, tongue dipping into your entrance greedily while his fingers massaged your clit, relentless with his attention until you were cumming so hard that your vision turned white. 

Your ex had never eaten you out, he’d always said that it was gross and dirty, that oral was something that women should perform on men - not the other way around. You found yourself cursing that asshole for never letting you experience this, the release that Sukuna had given you was better than any orgasm you’d ever experienced before. 

Not that your ex had made you cum all that often anyway. 

Sukuna had refused your attempt to return the favor, insisting that this was about you, and that if you were so desperate to suck his cock you could do it later, after he’d made you cum so many times that you’d forget your own name. 

His cock was huge, and he suggested that you start out by riding him so that you could take it all in at your own pace. You were grateful for that because as you sunk down on his cock the stretch was immense, he was so big that tears sprang to your eyes and you found yourself whimpering with each inch that you took. 

But it was a nice problem to have. The euphoria of being filled up and stretched out like this was unbelievable, especially with Sukuna rubbing your clit as he cooed about how good you were doing. Your ex had never really stretched you out at all, the size of his cock was almost laughable compared the monster hanging between Sukuna’s legs. 

Once you had him fully sheathed inside your pussy, you wasted no time as you started to bounce on his cock. Each time you brought yourself down on him you were seeing stars, his cock hitting a pleasurable spot deep enough inside you that you didn’t even know it existed until today. 

Moans and whimpers or pleasure filled the apartment as you rode him, wondering if you’d bitten off more than you could chew as your thighs quickly started to ache from the sheer effort of moving yourself along his monstrous length. Your fingernails were digging into his shoulders, your body desperately trying to move faster to chase your orgasm, but the stamina in your legs was waning fast. 

Sukuna let out a low chuckle, the rumble of it vibrating through his cock sending a shock of pleasure through you. He placed his hands behind his head for a moment, watching you struggle to take him for a while longer before intervening, his big hands moving down to your hips and taking control over your movements, letting you relax as he slammed you down on his cock over and over again. 

“O-oh fuck.” You whined, throwing your head back in ecstasy as he abused that one spot inside you over and over. Your fingers dug so hard into his shoulder that you were sure you’d drawn blood, and you squeezed your eyes firmly shut as your orgasm hit you out of nowhere. It felt so good, completely overwhelming all of your senses, your body twitching desperately and squeezing around his length as you experienced an even better orgasm than the one he’d given you earlier. 

He didn’t stop his movements, keeping up with his aggressive pace as he chased his own orgasm. You were too fucked out and caught up in the aftershocks of your own release to do anything, completely overwhelmed and more than happy to let him take over.

“You on the pill?” His voice sounded distant, but you just about managed to catch his words. You gave him a small nod, desperate for the feeling of him cumming inside you. You were well aware of the risks, but right now you felt way too good to care. 

He smirked as he slammed his hips into you a few more times before reaching his release, the warm sensation of his seed filling you up and dripping down your thighs had you letting out a sigh of pleasure. 

Once he’d cum, you assumed that the two of you were done, that he’d pull out and send you on your merry way. Sex was always over for you and your ex once he came, whether you’d gotten your orgasm or not.

What you weren’t expecting was for Sukuna to pull out and push you into a new position, moving you off his lap and onto your knees, your hands braced against the back of the couch as he positioned himself behind you, sinking his cock back into your sopping pussy, fucking you with just as much vigor as he had before. 

And that’s how the night continued, Sukuna fucking you relentlessly in every position you could imagine. On your hands and knees on the floor, full nelson with you facing the mirror watching your own fucked out expression as his cock slid in and out of you, mating press with your legs thrown haphazardly over his shoulders and his red eyes staring wildly down at you. 

In the moments that he needed to recharge between pumping buckets of cum into you, he was lavishing your pussy with attention, licking up your combined juices and making you come undone over and over again with his tongue. When his cock hardened once more he put the two of you into a sixty-nine, continuing to lap at your pussy as he worked his cock down your throat, praising you for how well you were taking it. 

He fucked you for hours before you were finally done, finishing off in missionary in his bed, your body shaking with each thrust, your eyes heavy with exhaustion as he came inside you one last time, pulling out and collapsing beside you, arm thrown over your exhausted body. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled, nuzzling his face into your hair. “So fucking good, angel.” 

You couldn’t verbalise a response, your body too thoroughly spent to engage with anything right now, mind swimming with pleasure and the desire to drift off to sleep on this comfy bed. 

“You meant to be flying back home with that asshole ex of yours tomorrow?” He asked, fingers comfortingly rubbing circles into your soft skin.

“Mhmm.” You responded. You’d been trying not to think about how awkward that flight would be, your ex was definitely not above starting a fight on the plane and you weren’t sure that you could take the humiliation of all your issues being aired out in a confined space in front of dozens of people.

“How about you stay a little longer?” Sukuna suggested, and you glanced at him with surprise. In your mind this had been a one time thing, a petty ploy for vengeance. “I did say that if I had someone as pretty as you I wouldn’t let them go easy.” He reminded you. 

You smiled at him. Catching what would likely be the worst flight of your life or spending a few more days in paradise with a man who had you seeing stars when he fucked you? 

Yeah, that was a no-brainer.  

a/n: he's so oooof anyway play girlfriend by hemlocke springs

© sukunahs

[indiewritesxoxo]

tourist trapped

one | two | three | four | five

dirty Myrtle is about to get flirty and filthy!

synopsis: what's currently on your summer itinerary? hot days and handsy nights on the sand and under the sheets, bikini-clad and slathered in sunscreen or soap. not getting stranded five hundred miles from your destination with the best friend of the guy you were supposed to be spending your vacation with. but when his car breaks down and you're stuck sharing the bed with Sukuna, you can't help but start to consider there might be more to him than tattoos and terrible music taste. who knows what sort of souvenirs you'll end up leaving with?

pairing: grumpy!Sukuna x bratty!Reader

content: mdni, smut and fluff, piv sex, sexual tension, gojo mentioned (reader's fwb), unestablished relationships, messy dynamics, emotional hurt, comfort, forced proximity, in denial about feelings, heavy pining, multiple positions, confessions, happy ending

part of this collab event with @lily-bisque hehe

"Fuck, you're so-"

Sukuna had you bent over the edge of the bed half an hour later. Panties still pulled down around your ankles, bitemarks blooming across your thighs that would be bruises tomorrow, a handprint or two on your ass as his cock split you open in mean thrusts.

"I'm so what?" You teased, voice muffled into the blanket as the next smack of his hips ripped a raspy moan from your throat.

"Pretty," he grunted, and you frowned.

You thought he'd say hot. Frustrating. Infuriating.

Pretty was - well, affectionate?

Made it sound like you were making love instead of having some hot and heavy affair behind his best friend's back. Although, you guessed it wasn't really an affair when you weren't dating him.

It was just a different flavor of betrayal.

You couldn't bring yourself to feel that bad about it when Gojo was most likely balls-deep in someone else too.

Still, you scoffed at Sukuna. Tried to squirm enough to peek over your shoulder at him.

Realizing he meant it made it worse.

Everything about his features was serious. The clench of his jaw and the shimmer in his eyes and the way your name kept falling from his lips like a prayer.

He told you he liked you.

You didn't really believe him before.

But you were starting to wonder if it had the tiniest hint of truth to it. Because he'd tasted your lips on the beach the same way he fucked you now. Hard and hungry.

His thumb traced over the outline of the henna tattoo on your back, a hoarse groan escaping him this time as his thick cock dove back in deep, grinding against your cervix like he had to claim it.

Savoring something he'd stolen for himself, bought and marked as his.

"I was so fucking stupid," he grunted, each word abbreviated with a raspy exhale. "For not seeing you sooner."

You scoffed again, squirmed your ass back against him. Tried to prop your elbows up on the mattress and manage to roll over.

But he didn't give you the room, rolling his eyes at your weak attempt.

"I've been here the whole time," you reminded him, but your voice betrayed your attempt to sound semi-sarcastic.

"I thought you were his," he growled.

You managed to wiggle free this time, moving higher up on the bed and switching to lay on your back, his hands already grabbing your waist to hold you down. Indenting the impression of your bodies on the mattress while he buried himself back inside of you.

"What?" You hissed out as one of his massive palms shifted down to lift your thigh and press it against your chest, casually hooking it over his shoulder to fully spread you open for him. "Think I'm yours now?"

"You wanna be?"

Maybe you were drunk on his cock, because it almost sounded like a real offer.

As if he'd ever play-pretend as anyone's boyfriend. Much less yours.

"Shut up," you tried to snarl, but it just came out as a whine. All weak and drawn-out, your chest shuddering as you tried to stave off the heat he kept stoking in your stomach.

He opened his mouth to snap back at you, but then his focus shifted, catching on the cut on your arm, freezing mid-thrust.

"When did-"

"The bar," you finished the thought for him, writhing around again in an attempt to get him to keep going. To scratch that pathetic itch he started on the beach by kissing you like it was more than just lust lingering between you.

"Did I do that?" He wasn't just frowning. Sure, his lips were downturned. Deep lines dug into his skin, jaw locked tight like his cock wasn't throbbing between your thighs.

"Dunno," you breathlessly shrugged.

He was about to apologize, you could see the word forming on his tongue, but you didn't want a sorry from him. You wanted him to fuck you.

"Will you please just keep going?" You huffed, nails digging down into his shoulder blade to press his body back down into yours.

"I'm not some fuckin' guy that doesn't give a shit about you," he grunted, but he did keep going, his thrusts slower now, his eyes took forever to shift from the cut on your arm to your face, unsteady.

You knew what he was trying to say.

He wasn't Gojo.

But when he was fucking you like this, leg tossed over his shoulder and cock stretching you open, you wondered how different he really was.

How long it'd take him to get bored of you too and start fucking someone new.

Sukuna stared like he could see through your head and read the thoughts stewing there, scowling as he let your thigh fall in favor of just using his hand to rub mean little circles over your clit like he had something to prove.

The question was just to who? Himself? You? Gojo?

"You-" You started, just for your voice to crack into a breathy moan when his thumb rubbed harder over your sensitive bud.

"Hm?" He mocked, cocking his head to the side, daring you to say it.

Tell him off. Cuss him out. Anything was good leaving your mouth, apparently.

You couldn't even work up a glare, scrunching your eyes closed as the sloppy sounds of him fucking into you mixing with heavy panting and the exhaust fan.

The pressure kept mounting. A fuse lit and fizzling down until there was only a thin frayed rope left, the seconds ticking away until it all blew up in your face.

"You like me," Sukuna accused, thumb tauntingly dragging back over suddenly soft and slow.

You wanted to protest. Laugh at him, actually. But then his mouth was on yours, his tongue in your mouth and his cock stretching you out and his hands holding you like you more than just an easy hookup, and you finished before he even finished the pattern he was painting on your clit.

It felt like confirmation.

And while you came back down, thighs trembling and nails still raking down Sukuna's back, you were starting to fear that he was right. Especially when he finished in the condom, when he didn't collapse on you, but stayed still inside you, elbows framing your face, close enough you could see all the little lines and edges of his, wrapped up in the scent of his cologne and your shampoo.

You did like him. Enough you wanted to believe him, believe he was a better man than Gojo.

Even worse, you didn't think you could hide what you felt anymore.

How long had you been burying down? Convinced yourself you couldn't want him?

He kissed you again, the act of not-caring you'd been carefully crafting crumbled in your heart.

𓆝 𓆟

Sukuna rolled over, reaching out just to find empty sheets and the cold space where you should be.

It took him half a second to sit up, opening his eyes and scowling at the wrinkled blanket. The clock by the bed blinked in bright numbers, half past six in the morning. His eyes flicked over to the bathroom, expecting to see the shut door, the light peeking through the crack, but what he found was you bent over your suitcase and squishing all your stuff down inside it, struggling to get everything to fit. In a rush.

"The fuck are you doing?" He growled, getting out of bed, his somehow hard again cock springing up and hitting his abs in the process.

But you didn't spare him a single glance.

"I need to go," you muttered under your breath, throwing a pair of bikini bottoms that were missing the matching top in on top of the the crab t-shirt he supposed you were now stealing from him.

He grimaced, walking over and snatching it back.

"That's mine," he huffed, pulling it on over his head in some pathetic protest. If you wanted it back, you'd have to take it off of him. "Where the hell do you think you're going? The last time I checked-"

"Home," you murmured.

It was barely audible. And he felt ill at the single word leaving your lips.

"How exactly do you plan on getting there?" He grumbled, folding his arms across the chest.

He couldn't exactly keep you hostage, but he didn't have to be the one drive you and drop you off when you'd slam the door shut behind you and never let him back in.

"I don't know," you admitted, looking over to where your phone was still charging on the single dresser in the room. "Call an Uber or something."

"Did he call you?" Sukuna asked, hating how hard his heart was pounding. How sick the thought of you somehow ending up back with Gojo made him feel.

"This isn't fucking about him," you huffed.

Sukuna froze.

It was about him.

"What did I-" He started scoffing, taken back by the idea he could've done something shitty enough to piss you off enough to sneak out the morning after he finally got to have you. Was it about the stupid girl that tried to talk to him at the bar last night? He shut that shit down as soon as she walked over, but she refused to walk away until he brushed past her to save you from that fucking asshole. Or was it about that?

He made you let him clean the cut after sex last night, but you mumbled that you weren't mad at him when he pressed the wet washcloth against it.

So what-

"I do like you," you confessed, like you were shoving your shit in your suitcase to get as far from him as possible. His mouth fell open, his throat dry, scratchy as he tried to find something to say back. But you weren't finished, "I'll get over it so-"

"Don't," he interrupted.

"What?" You finally paused, t-shirt still in hand as you looked up at him, nose scrunching at the sight of him in just the stupid crab t-shirt with no boxers or pajama pants on.

"Don't get over it," he grumbled, although he wondered if you were already halfway there seeing him like this.

"But-"

"I want you," he swallowed hard. Gritted his teeth and tried not to wince at how awkward he sounded admitting it. "Not as a hookup, or one-night thing, but as a girlfriend."

You blinked. Barely even breathed.

"You want me to be your girlfriend?" You didn't believe it.

A week ago, he wouldn't have believed it either.

But here he was, half-naked with dried cum still on his thigh and wearing a shirt that said he had crabs trying to convince you that he was the better option for you than the guy you'd originally came here for.

"Yeah," he nodded, jaw clenched as he attempted to stay collected, in control when you had all the cards.

"Gojo-"

"Can go fuck himself," Sukuna finished for you.

The faintest flash of a smile flickered across your face before you shut that down too. Mouth pressing into a thin line as you murmured, "He's your friend."

"He's an asshole," Sukuna corrected.

And honestly, after he sent that fucking video of you in bed, Sukuna was considering taking vengeance for you regardless if you choose him or not. He still had a key to Gojo's place.

A fish in the air conditioning unit? Nair in his shampoo? Setting fire to his favorite Digimon card?

Of course, he'd have to make Gojo ship all your other stuff to you before he got back at him.

Gojo would probably throw a huge fucking fit once he knew Sukuna even just fucked you. Not because he cared, but because he was just an asshole who thought he could own and use people as he pleased.

A spoiled brat like him wouldn't even realize what he lost until it was long gone.

Sukuna wasn't scared of him or his tantrums.

He was terrified of this though, of you slipping through his fingers.

You hesitated, but you dropped the shirt you were holding on your lap.

"Sukuna," you started again, but your voice died in your throat.

He got down on the floor next to you, a hand on your cheek to keep your eyes on him before you could look away.

"You're going to break my heart," you softly said, and for the first time since he met you, he realized what you looked like when you were actually scared.

"I think you'll probably break mine first," he retorted, and you let yourself smile this time. Leaned into his palm just a little.

"Me?" You pretended to be innocent, and Sukuna had to bite back a chuckle. To not let you squirm out of the conversation.

"My car should be fixed in a few hours," he reminded you. "I'll drive you wherever you want to go."

Even to Gojo, if that was what you picked. Although, he'd probably punch him when you got there.

"What about you? Where do you want to go?" You carefully asked, pupils too big not to betray how you felt.

"Wherever you are," Sukuna shrugged.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile that curled up on your face was cute, warm.

"You better mean that," you mumbled, leaning in, your mouth brushing against the corner of his mouth. "Or I might key your car, boyfriend."

"I'll hand you the keys," he grunted, his hand sliding back to tether in your hair and pull you in for a real kiss. Capturing your lips between his, letting you bite, canines nipping at his bottom one when a muffled giggle slipped out.

Sukuna wanted you for breakfast. Lunch and dinner too, but the sky was still tinged with pink, the sun barely rising above the tide. He wanted to make that tattoo on your back the real deal, get one of your name somewhere to match too.

Pulling you into his lap, caging you in with his arms and ignoring the throb of his cock when he deepened the kiss, tilting your head back to accommodate him until our palm pressed against his chest just enough to pull away.

"Wanna come home with me?"

[indiewritesxoxo]

tell me (i'm yours)

moving out and dating around is much harder when your roommate suddenly wants to make a move on (or in) you!

synopsis: you thought you crushed your crush on Sukuna forever ago when you found yourself in the friend zone - so how the hell did he keep managing cockblock you? when you finally try to do something about it, your roommate has a lot to say about being just friends

wc: 3.4k

content: mdni, light angst/fluff + smut, heavy mutual pining, jealousy, roommates-to-lovers, sukuna being secretly down bad, begrudging confessions, unprotected piv sex, pulling out, oral (f!) receiving, (oblivious) idiots in love with each other

a/n: this was a commision from the lovely @mkuwuu

“I think I should move out.”

Sukuna’s mouth twitched. Shoulders froze. Knuckles white against the now-bent spoon he was eating cereal out of, the milk dripping over the edge into the table. 

“The fuck are you talkin’ about?” He slowly grumbled, and for someone who looked like he was choosing his words carefully, it still made you cringe to have his annoyance directed towards you. 

“I dunno, it just seems like I get on your nerves lately, and the lease will be up next month anyway, and-”

“No,” he bluntly cut off your rambling with a short scoff. As if it was stupid to think he was sick of you just because he rolled his eyes and snapped at you just for taking too long in the shower or if you forgot your clothes in the dryer. 

“I mean, are you sure?” You hesitated, about to bring up one of the twenty bullet points you'd compiled on your phone last night, but he just glared up at you again. 

“You’re staying.” 

Well, you supposed all your reasons were just lies and excuses you'd been crafting because the real one was too embarrassing. 

How the hell were you supposed to tell him you wanted to leave because you couldn't get laid with him around?

You’d met him at a convenience store almost four years ago. Had the (mis)fortune of spilling your drink on him and somehow still managing to score his number by offering to buy him a new shirt to make up for it. A not-so-tiny sliver of you had been smitten from his first glare. The challenge of his scowl, the question in the downturn of his lips – how hard would it be to make him smile? 

He was blunt. Kind of (really) rude half the time. But you had a surprising amount in common when you managed to get him on the phone. You liked it when he laughed – even if it was really just a dry chuckle most of the time. It felt like a reward, one you found yourself working harder and harder for. Sending moronic videos that made you think of him, good mornings he would only send a thumbs up back to, not quite nudes that would make the typing text bubble pop up for ten minutes before he’d leave it marked as seen.  

Except after a couple months of sporadic texts and calls, when you finally convinced him to hang out, he cancelled on you last minute. You thought that was it. The first step to getting ghosted. An excuse here. A half-hearted apology there. The eventual silence until one day you’d see him on the grocery store or street with a girl and think: what does she have? 

What were you missing? 

But then he texted you a couple days later with just an address and a time. A bar that was only a few blocks from your apartment. 

You spent half the day picking out what dress to wear, doing your hair and makeup, copious amounts of effort into being attractive enough to seal the deal – but when you got there, he was drinking with his friends – and a few girls. 

The friend zone felt like fucking shit. 

But you stayed because you figured he probably knew other hot guys you could hook up with. He did, but none of them would entertain more than conversations that would get cut short by him every time it ventured past the boring polite stuff. 

You never saw Sukuna so much as flirt with any girls – but you just sort of assumed they existed, something he did in his free time every time he wasn’t with you or replying to your messages. 

Honestly, you couldn’t fucking believed it when he asked you to move in after his last roommate left after being in that limbo for way longer than you should’ve been. 

You really couldn’t fucking believe when you heard the word ‘yes’ leave your mouth back.

All you could do was regret being such a lovesick idiot back then since you were reaping the consequences now. 

Well, your cunt was.  

You hadn’t been laid in ten months. 

Honestly, you could’ve gotten knocked up and actually had a kid with that time. But no, a man hadn’t come within twenty feet of your thighs because a certain pink-haired asshole hated you leaving the apartment to do anything without him. 

Not that he’d admit it. 

It hadn’t been that hard at first – you’d just slip out without saying anything and come back the next morning in the same clothes. His brow would twitch, his lips pressed in a thin line, but he never said anything. 

But these days? Every time you wanted to grab food? He was grabbing his car keys. A new movie was coming out? He already bought the tickets even if he’d complain the entire drive home how stupid he thought it was. 

He even managed to crash your last girls night with all his stupid friends you couldn’t stand anymore. Slotting himself between you and a hot stranger who had his hands on your hips, practically shoving him away simply for the crime of being too close to you when Sukuna was the one who kept you at arms length at home.

Afterwards, he had grumbled into your ear that he heard that the guy actually had a girlfriend. 

You felt like a fool for thinking for even half a second that he’d done it because he liked you. 

The legs of your chair creaked when you got up now, pushed back too fast as you turned away from him. You didn’t mention the fact you’d already started looking at new buildings. Had a few showings planned and scheduled after your next shift. 

Half your clothes and things were already stuffed in boxes in your closet.

In the past two years of this admittedly strange living situation, he’d never bothered coming into your room, so you figured he wouldn’t find any of it.

He was the kind of guy who’d barge into the bathroom when you took a shower, or hog all the space on the couch, but you supposed some things were sacred. The fine line of the threshold into your tiny hundred square foot space was one of them – a boundary he begrudgingly respected, for whatever reason. 

Either way, you locked your door behind you. 

Collapsed onto your uncomfortable bed, mattress springs whining as you plucked your phone free from its charger and scrolled through your apps for the hundredth time to click on the one you’d been religiously checking all month. 

One new match. 

“You look like a-” 

“Slut?” You finished his sentence for him, glancing back over your shoulder at an obviously annoyed Sukuna, his muscled biceps folding across his arms, jaw locked. If you listened close enough, you could hear his molars grinding. 

You could see the protest forming on his tongue, for him to snarl back some more clever insult to correct you. But it didn’t come. 

Just that cold stare as his dark eyes dragged over your body, the way your dress was bunched up too high on your thighs before you’d even left the apartment or slipped your heels on.

“The hell are we going?” Sukuna grunted, ignoring what you said and forcing his gaze back up to your face. He was leaning against the wall across from you, studying your reaction, daring you to say what he thought you were going to. Wearing a loose pair of sweatpants that hung low enough on his hips you could see his abs and happy trail every time his shirt rode up on his skin. You huffed back, trying not to grimace when you walked past him in the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water, the condensation cool on your clumsy fingers as you took a small sip to soothe your dry throat.

“We aren’t going anywhere,” you corrected him after you dropped the cup back on the counter, unzipping your purse as you checked to make sure you had your keys and lip gloss with enough cash to pay a cab later if you needed. “I’m going on a date.” 

“With who?”

“Does it matter?” You scoffed, checking your messages just to see he’d sent one a few minutes ago saying he was on his way.

“Yeah,” Sukuna scoffed back at you, louder, like it’d overwrite yours and make his point clearer. “It does.”

“Why?” You bluntly asked, walking out of the kitchen and out to the hall bathroom to check your reflection one last time. He was following though, on your heels as you padded barefoot across the floor.

“What if he’s a creep?” Sukuna suggested in a low snarl, flicking the light off after you tried to turn it on. “A catfish?” 

“Then I’ll come back,” you retorted, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at him. 

“No,” he growled, all gravelly and gritty, his massive frame blocking the door and hand covering the light switch.

“So I should go home with him if he’s a creep?” You sarcastically asked. 

“That's not what I meant and you know it,” he grumbled, each word a prickly barb that sent an unfair jolt of excitement down your spine. 

It shouldn't. He shouldn't. 

Not when after four years of friendship and two of living together where the furthest the two of you had come to actual intimacy was drifting off on his shoulder during shows and him brushing against you to grab stuff off the top shelf. 

But him being protective was unfortunately much hotter when you were already aching to get fucked, sick of the abstinence you'd been stuck in for months. 

He was practically your personal chastity belt at this point, keeping the key all to himself by monopolizing every minute of your day. 

Was it all him though? Or did part of you pick that? 

Choose to stay by his side on the couch or out in public just so his attention (platonic or otherwise) wouldn't drift elsewhere. 

“He's picking me up soon,” you shrugged, like you didn't care what he thought. 

You weren’t going to be the one waving the white flag of defeat tonight. Unless it was someone else’s boxers. 

“Like hell he is,” he grumbled, and you guessed he was trying to insinuate he’d scare your date off.

“Why do you care?” You deadpanned, swatting his hand away from the light switch so you could actually turn it on and see his expression. 

Which wasn’t exactly what you expected.

It wasn’t rage. Wasn’t really anger. Annoyance? Irritation? Sure, but the little pout on his pretty pink lips indicated something more. 

Sukuna was jealous. 

“I don’t want you to go,” he brusquely said, not even blinking as he stared at you. 

Your stomach flipped. You should brush past him, should slide your heels on and just wait in the parking lot. But your feet felt glued to the tile, unable to move an inch when his eyes were burning into yours. 

“Why?” You asked, voice thin and hoarse. 

“You know why,” he grunted, but that wasn’t good enough. 

“Give me a real reason or I’m walking out the door.”

“I-” 

There was a knock at it anyway, loud enough to reverberate through the rest of the apartment. Your phone buzzed in your purse, probably him saying he was here while your roommate stared at you like he was on the brink of bending you over the bathroom sink. 

“Last chance,” you warned, and you weren’t sure what you were hoping for. Some confession? 

“I like you,” he managed to spit it out, a little crinkle in his nose as he waited for you to say the same.

But you hadn’t waited four fucking years for an ‘I like you’. 

“Isn’t that why we’re friends?” You tilted your head to the side. “Because you like hanging out with me?” 

His jaw tightened, way past annoyed, but you just pushed past him, your shoulder knocking into his arm as you squeezed out of the bathroom. 

“That’s not-” 

You were already in the living room though, bending over to get your heels off the floor.

But then his hands were on your waist, fingers digging in and wrinkling your dress, refusing to let you so much as slip them on.

“You fuckin’ love torturing me,” he grumbled, grabbing your heels out of your hands and holding them behind his back to make you try and get them back. You huffed at him, eyes squinting up at him in irritation, but the hand that wasn’t holding your heels suddenly tethered itself in your hair and tugged, forcing you to look up at him. “I like you. I have this whole time, brat.” 

He emphasized the word, like he wanted to make sure it made its way through your skull. 

“You never-” You started protesting, but he wasn’t budging. 

“You’re the one always talking about us being friends,” he hissed, like he hated the word as much as you did.

“Because you friend zoned me,” you argued back in a low whisper, heart beating fast enough it hurt your chest. “I never-” 

He rolled his eyes at you this time, leaning down and shutting you up with a kiss. One that you’d imagined in a hundred different ways. In the rain. On the kitchen table. During a movie. At a coffee shop. 

But here, barefoot and in the middle of the living room, with his hand in your hair and your palm pressed against his chest, it was much better than any fantasy you ever dared to daydream about before. 

He tasted like mint. His cologne had wrapped around you, and would probably cling to your skin long after this ended, but it was warm, cozy. He smelled like home. 

Sukuna sucked on your bottom lip, canines nipping at the thin skin and lapping up every last bit of candy-flavored gloss you’d coated them in, dropping your heels to the floor right as your date knocked again outside. 

He refused to pull away until you were both out of breath. Glaring at the door like he was considering how a murder charge would affect his day until he begrudgingly walked over to answer it, only opening it enough to look through the crack.

“She’s busy,” Sukuna deadpanned, slamming it back before your suitor could even get a word in. 

You were staring at him, mouth still parted in surprise when he flipped the lock and laserfocused back on where you were standing in your skimpy dress and freshly-smudged lipgloss. 

And five minutes later, you were face-down on your shared couch, dress discarded on the floor, panties pulled down and still hooked around your ankles while your phone kept vibrating from inside your purse where Sukuna had tossed it onto the stained coffee table. 

“The hell you want a guy like him for?” He grumbled, head between your legs, his calloused palms keeping your thighs spread and pliant for him while he ate you out like he’d been starving.

Your dinner date somehow twisted into being another man’s meal. 

Panting, your nails clawed at the closest pillow at his tongue pushing deeper into your cunt, exploring your insides like you were his to map out. Struggling to form words when each lap, each lick ripped your breath from your lungs. “I, fuck, I-” 

“M’waiting,” he murmured, dry and low, not mocking but close enough to make your body shudder. 

“I wanted to get fucked,” you admitted, a breathy whine that hardly sounded like yourself, and a low growl was ripped from his throat, maybe imagining what you would’ve been doing tonight if he hadn’t come clean and confessed. 

“You could’ve asked me,” he grumbled, pulling his tongue out, the absence making your stomach flutter, the fire burning in your stomach flaring as you heard the shuffle of his sweatpants getting pulled down. The faint slap of something heavy on your ass, his pre-cum leaking out on your skin as you glanced over your shoulder at him. 

He looked fucking feral. 

And you were suddenly unsure who’d been waiting longer for this moment, watching through glossy eyes as he guided his thick cock right against your entrance, his own heavy-lidded stare studying the connection between you like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Think I can’t take care of you?” He grunted right as he shoved the first few inches in, your face immediately falling back into the cushion to choke out your raspy moan. 

He easily pushed past the first ring of resistance, your body melting into his as his cock stretched your already slick walls out for him. A promise you felt in the pressure skyrocketing in your stomach – that he was planning on taking very good care of you now. 

Although, you had a feeling his version of soothing you would end up with you sobbing his name. 

And maybe you’d been wrong about him before, wrong about your whole relationship, but you were right about that. 

He bottomed out hard, your cunt clenching around him right as his swollen tip fit snugly against your cervix. His cock was throbbing, and if you looked back, you had a feeling Sukuna would be struggling not to cum already considering his thrusts had stalled before they even started. 

Just feeling you, the greedy way you were sucking him in, desperate for whatever he’d give you. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re-” 

“I’m what?” You teased him, but it just sounded like a whimper from your gasping lips, not missing the fact he called you baby instead of brat. 

“Mine.” 

He fucked you like it. 

Hard and fast, like he had something to prove. Maybe to both of you. That this was more than just a moment of jealousy – that this had been building from the day you met him. 

His fingers splayed across your hip to hold you in place, his other hand grabbing your hair and pulling it back enough to make you turn and glance up at him. Wild eyes finding yours, the words that had never been said suffocating both of you hanging heavy in them. 

But before you could dare to whisper any of them, or his tongue could slip, his mouth was crashing into yours. His tongue brushing past your teeth as he rutted into you, in-and-out in fast motions, only letting go of your hips to fumble for your clit mid-kiss, his hand caught between the couch and your body. 

He made it work, rubbing rough circles over it, only making the waves of pleasure crash over harder, lewd sounds of his hips smacking against yours adding to the chorus of groans you were drowning in. 

You unravelled for him – thighs twitching and trembling as he made you cum, tears forming and threatening to fall in the corners of your eyes as you cried out his name. That was all he needed, all he’d been waiting for, and he was releasing your hair so he could release on your back instead of inside you. 

It was thick, cum splattering across your skin as his muscles tensed. You were still catching your breath when he grabbed your panties off the floor to wipe you clean, well, as clean as he could considering how flimsy the fabric was. 

“You hungry?” He casually asked, and an airy giggle escaped you.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, closing your eyes and relaxing as he stood up and laid you flat on the couch. His hand still lingered on your body, running along your side from your ass up to your shoulders, thick fingers tracing his name on your sticky skin. 

“I’ll order somethin’,” he grumbled, and you were about to ruin it, about to ask the question that’d been on the back of your mind since he buried his face in your cunt. But he answered it like he could read your mind. “And next time you wanna go on a date, ask me.” 

You laughed a little, yawning and nodding, readjusting and half-rolling over to look up at him.

“I’m free tomorrow,” you shrugged your shoulders, yawning.

His eyes narrowed, but you could see the smirk trying to tug up on his lips. He looked at you, then back towards the hall. “I’ll get you some clothes.”

You were tempted to ask for his.

But you were too tired to stand, just mumbling something back and resting your head back on the couch. It smelled like him too. 

You only got up when he’d been gone for ten minutes. 

Dragging yourself up on sore limbs, bare and barely suppressing a limp as you stumbled towards your open bedroom. Sukuna was standing in front of your closet, scowling at all your clothes like they personally offended him. 

“What are you doing?” You yawned, legs still feeling like jelly as you leaned against the open doorway. 

“Unpacking.” 

[gojotech]

is she weird , sukuna ryomen ✣

for my girls that could never quite figure out why boys didn't talk to them ❤︎

content: sukuna x weird girl!reader, fem!reafer, fluff ig, mentions of dick bc why am i like this, implications of bullying (brief), mentions of death threats, ooc!sukuna bc bitch this is my shit!!!!!! and just some fun shit bc it's so okay to be a little different and this is your life and not everyone is gonna like it but not everyone matters!!!!!

note: i was a strange girl in school. never had a boy show interest in me. i wanted so badly to be like the pretty girls but i so so badly wanted to just be the fun girl i always knew myself to be! choosing myself over and over again because i will always have me. i love you guys ❥❥

dinner in america reference because punk!sukuna yk?? and i just...

not proofread because lazee :0

sukuna and weird girl!reader who have been dating for an entire year.

that means a year of the same confused looks from his friends and the repeated question of "how did you two even get to this point?"

he shrugs his shoulders, and goes about his business because when has sukuna ever felt the need to offer anyone an explanation for the choices he makes.

he'll admit, you're a little strange, but you're unlike anyone he's ever met before.

you turn heads everywhere you go and not because you hold the features of an iconic model or everyone's current favorite obsession on social media.

the odd looks are often pointed to your newest haircut, poorly done by yourself, but unintentionally. you didn't necessarily wake up and decide 'huh...i wanna walk around with fucked up bangs and too short hair.'

still, you sport it around as if it was done by frederic fekkai and not vidal sassoon.

instead of crying at the sight of your bangs hanging not even halfway past your forehead, you just sigh and stick two different colored clips in them where they'll stay pinned back until you no longer resemble trixie from speed racer.

sukuna will pass by the bathroom, pausing to observe your current situation before walking away with a snort and a "nice look, edna." thrown over his shoulder.

still, he'll find you the next day with an even wackier outfit to draw the attention from the accident above you.

with a stupid feeling settled in his chest , he kisses the top of your head and follows you into the public where the two of you can be unapologetically yourselves together.

he's caught you reading some fucked up shit in the middle of the night on tumblr more than he can count and when he attempts to tease you about it, you only shove it in his face with your lips pulled tight, shamelessly allowing him to see what most would only indulge in with a heavy duty privacy screen protector and their brightness on the dimmest setting.

you gag at .5 inch bugs as if they're capable of swallowing you whole, but will snuggle a rabid, flea infested raccoon against your favorite sweater all because you "have a working washer at home".

he likes that since he's known you in middle school, you've yet to change a single bit, the only thing different being your chest size and the fact that you can now legally buy alcohol.

he likes that the music he silently appreciates with a light nod of his head and repeated foot taps is the same music you dance wildly to in a too big shirt and too short pajama pants. he doesn't judge your uncoordinated style and the fact the your unmatched socks cause you to stumble every other minute, and you wouldn't care if he did.

he likes that even more.

you know how boys see you, how they've always seen you.

the strange girl by herself because no one wants to sit by the same kid that did a finals project on "how you're most likely to be killed by a cow than a shark".

you figured it was because you were the only one who scored higher than a sixty and everyone was just jealous.

sukuna will never tell you that those boys actually just hated you for existing and the girls wanted to hurt you for being able to love yourself despite being different than them.

you'll just forever wonder why the whispers suddenly disappeared and the dirty looks were redirected to the next loser.

sukuna will also never tell you that he threatened every person that spoke ill of you with an immoral and cruel death.

sure, he got suspended for two weeks, but he knew that your name was no longer in their mouths.

you don't have many friends, having gotten way too comfortable with your own presence, but the few online friends you manage to keep a relationship with grow concerned every now and then.

'he looks so mean.'

'why does he never look happy in the pictures you post?'

'geez! tell him to save some smiles and happiness for the rest of us!'

but his love is so so obvious in the deep, endless look of adoration is his eyes when you're forcing him to watch you make your sims violently murder each other. it's clear as day in the way he chooses to spend every walking minute by your weird ass because you seem to be the only person in this world that hasn't betrayed their self to please the average stranger. the level to which he loves you is so evident if you're able to look past the standards of society on what love and compatibility should look like.

you don't care!! not about the way people view you, the way society expects you to be, not even about his own opinion.

it fucking makes his dick hard! it's gross!!!

the simple idea of his girl being so comfortable in her own being.

you know you're a little strange thing. he knows you're a little strange thing! the whole fucking population that exists in your vicinity knows it!!

you ask him one day out of pure curiosity, "do you think i'm weird?"

and without missing a beat, "oh, yeah, you're fucking weird." he confirms.

he lets you stare at him with a conflicted look on your face before kissing your frown away.

"do you think i'm weird?" he questions, eyes low and stuck on the sight of you actively breathing and existing before him, unusual looking and all.

"yeah, maybe weirder than me."

the asshole laughs at you, pushing your hair back with a grin, "never that."

sukuna likes the known fact that he'll never find another girl like you and you've grown okay with the fact that you'll never find someone that accepts you the way he does.

written mike this

[macni-art]

Kinda been in an art block.

[indiewritesxoxo]

love me not!

Suguru Geto is your bully, your boss, and now your...baby daddy?

pairings: baby daddy!Geto x f!reader x coworker!Nanami

content: MDNI, angst and fluff and smut, coworker AU, rivals-to-coparents, toxic relationship dynamics, bullying, Geto and reader HATE each other (for now), unplanned pregnancy, hidden baby trope (sorta), hatefucking, piv sex, oral (m! receiving), reader is incredibly petty, descriptions of pregnancy symptoms, more tags to be added

art creds: @/Bom61487782 on x for suguru + @/Neconi_o0 for nanami I believe !!

chapter index

plucked | branching out | broken twigs | picking petals

thorns | deadheading | weeds | ripping out the roots

yours, mine, his | briar | in bloom | trimming

drenched | shovel | overgrown garden | cut down

new seeds | rot | sprout | blossom

taglist is currently closed but you can turn on notifications for all writing updates here -> @indiesupdates

[nanamiskentos]

'crazy take but id trust sukuna more than gojo if they were doctors' by @/ryoza_za on twitter

[poltergoast]

yuri..🤔

[kcokaine]

gojopool and wolvkuna

[heaveninruins-deactivated202602]

@crude-saint

[hiccupberries]

@indiewritesxoxo

[indiewritesxoxo]

me in the middle when