𐔌 please read ! — down below is a list of the animes/ movies/shows/ect. that i have written for. the hyperlinks will take you to an individual masterlist for them. 𐦯
𑄝 — avatar
𑄝 — jujutsu kaisen
+more to come
side note ꜝꜝ ꩜ . 𐔌 i'm willing to write for just about anything ! there are so many games, animes, & films/shows that i love, so feel free to request whatever your heart desires 🧁𐦯
Idk did you show your support? Did you comment? Did you reblog? Did you tell them you appreciate what they do for free? Or did you just lurk in the shadows while the writer decided to stop sharing free work with you?
Like, comment, and reblog people!! It costs nothing, and you can just say “thank you for writing this.” It makes every writer’s day! We're literally not asking for money; we're just asking for support.
Can you write one where Lord!Sukuna fucks his queen on his throne while his other generals are watching, and they don't dare stare at you, they keep their heads bowed and whenever Sukuna gets mad, he fucks you a bit harder. Totally fine if you don't want to write it!
HE WHO RULES; ENJOYS .ᐟ R.SUKUNA.
.ᐟPAIRING.ᐟ heian era!Sukuna x queen!Reader
.ᐟSYNOPSIS.ᐟ When angered by the utter incompetence of his ministers—his queen provides a lesson in competence.
.ᐟTW.ᐟ f!reader, heian era!, explicit smut!, double cock!sukuna, size kink, biting, pet names!, sukuna being bipolar, exhibitionism, power sex, verbal humiliation, overstimulation, voyeurism, bulging, humiliation, sukuna being iggy azalea but fancy, his glass of milk is your blood, vaginal sex, clit circling, sukuna has four hands (first hands are primary hands and second hands are secondary hands), fingering, cervix flicking, you being silly billy, continuity lack—promise i'll work on it, porn w/ plot, reader wears a kimono, ministers needs someone to hug, initial smut may be really boring but i promise it gets better, i am never going to fucking write again, not proof read, please tell me if there are any errors!1.
.ᐟA/N.ᐟ heyyy....🤧idk what the shit i wrote....
To say Sukuna hated incompetence was an understatement.
It was loathsome. Disgusting. A rancid stench in his court.
And unfortunately, his so-called generals reeked of it.
“Preposterous,” Sukuna spat in response to a particularly foolish strategy. Ruby orbs daggering through all fifteen fools. “How idiotic are you?—lower your gazes. Fools—All of you.”
The general—some bloated ox of a man—his face flashes with mortification—doing as he’s told to do, his thin lips whispering a hushed apology and muttering prayers to whatever weak god was willing to listen to him.
The other fourteen look rather apprehensive.
Bang.
The sound thundered through the council room, creaking under his claws. He bangs his third hand on the alabaster table. The incense burns with as much fury as Sukuna is burning with.
“Useless. Worm-ridden carcasses! The lot of you. What worth do you serve?”
Their silence was answer enough. He desired nothing more than to drag each fattened head from its shoulders and decorate the walls with their entrails. His teeth gnashed—jaw clenching tight. Fucking useless, he thought.
"Damn your insolence—" he snarled, voice rattling against his fangs—
“—Ryo’?”
The King falters in his angered speech, jaw slacking and brows unfurrowing—heads snapped up in incredulity, only to drop again the moment they realized who dared to enter unbidden.
Ah.
You.
The only creature alive who could temper the Wrath of Heian without losing theirs.
Blood eyes flick towards your halted figure, one of his many hands gesturing to enter, the slight relaxation on his face upon seeing you did not go unnoticed by many. You proceed with your lips curved up, a glass of thick crimson balanced effortlessly on a golden tray.
“What is it you need, woman?” His pallid voice had a change of tone; more smoother—though no one in this room is that much of a git to point it out. He eyed you with those crimson eyes, taking in the slight curve of your hips when you walked towards him with a goblet of thick crimson.
It seems as if the ministers prayers have been answered; the ministers would have started rejoicing to the Gods that you had entered. It seems as if they would keep their heads, for today at least.
You glided to his throne—taking slow, deliberate steps, silk kimono brushing cold marble—wrapping your fingers around the goblet. Your smile spread to the ministers, testing their stupidity. The clever ones glued to their feet—the fools let their eyes wander toward you—an indulgence Sukuna would remember.
You return your gaze towards Sukuna, offering a coy smile.
“—Drink it all, hmm? I bled myself dry at dawn just for you.—“ You coaxed while handing him the chalice, placing the platter on a nearby utility table, your silk sleeves brushing his fingers.
"Did ya' now?" Sukuna enunciates, using his natural accent with you. Holding the goblet with his sharpened fingertips—he had always thought your blood was the sweetest.
"Yeah!" You replied with cherry tones, "—I even added some more of last week, you know—since you liked it so much—"
He hums dryly—studies the chalice, and keeps it aside—untouched.
You shoot him a confused look. Ruby eyes stare back at you with that utterly uninterested glint. You huff and start again.
“Ryo!" No one but you would have used that tone with him, "—that was weeks worth of—" He cuts you off by wrapping his secondary arms around you and hauling you on to his lap. Muscles caged you in, knotting tight around your waist—forcing you down onto his broad thighs. which probably means you won’t be going anytime soon.
The ministers startled at the motion quietly—then went very—very still. This wasn't the first time, in their defence.
He doesn’t acknowledge what he’s done. He never did. Typical of your king. He creases around you tighter—pressing his large hands against your waist, pressing you down. Creasing your kimono folds.
The room fell into a deeper mute—like the world knew better than to speak—especially these fools.
“The Eastern front,” Sukuna rasped to the council, voice vibrating against your spine, “—is ripe. We’ll take the East, then burn the North to ash.” No hesitation. No room for argument. The generals fumbled with parchment, some whispering agreements, others pretending to jot notes with quills that shook in their hands.
“My lord—,” a greasy voice rings out, “if I may add, the Eastern Kings are rather bold—stakes are that th—they might retaliate.” You wondered if this minister soiled his pants by the way he was shaking.
You chart a hand around Sukuna's girthy biceps.
Sukuna's eyes cut to him, slow and venomous; his primary right hand lazily fondling with the plush skin hidden by the fabric, squeezing and kneading. He adjusted you—just slightly.
“Bold men,” Sukuna reciprocated dryly, his gaze to the bunched up material of your lower kimono before resuming. “make the sweetest ornaments. I want their heads staked and their bones charred.” He seethed. His fourth and second arm knit tighter around your waist.
You didn’t dare make a sound—you never did.
Sukuna's voice cracked like thunder, and the ministers flinched as one with nature. Not a single fool dared to look up—but the air thickened with their fear, sweat rolling down temples, quills shaking against parchment.
His claws drummed an impatient rhythm against the arm of his throne. His third hand flexed against the alabaster table, leaving shallow grooves in the polished stone. His carmine eyes twitched at every suggestion the generals croaked out—each more pitiful than the last.
Nit-bits of propositions—words like 'artillery', 'supply lines', 'bases.' You heard them all—not that you really cared.
Circle. Heart. Moon. You traced on his bicep.
"Western frontiers—" the same greasy voice croaked nonsense in the shadows.
Heart. Moon. Circle.
“Insolent bastard—,” Sukuna spat in the shadow, the growl ripping through his chest. His claws flexed, gouging the marble table. You bit back a grin; almost enjoying how his fury rolled like thunder against you while your fingertip sketched constellations on his skin.
Moon. Circle. Heart. You continued, maybe you would do Circle, Moon and Heart next.
You expected one of the other ministers to say something brainless so you could hold back a chuckle while your husband obliterated them—
Why was it so quiet?—The room turned awfully silent—You kept to yourself though.
Heart. Circle. Circle. Restarting your artistry.
One crimson eye slanted down to where your finger danced against his arm. The rest of the room held its breath—mistaking his pause for more wrath—but it wasn’t them he had stilled for.
The corners of his mouth upturned—just barely. A smirk; ghostlike, carved onto his face as though he were half-disbelieving that you dared treat him like canvas. Cute. It was fucking cute.
You never halted with your tracing, a determined look on your doll face—Oblivious to what was happening.
He could almost fuck you right here and now, show what obedience means to these half brained dipshits.
He might as well do just that.
Bump. A rather bulky feeling against your ass.
Oh.
You freeze mid-trace. Because beneath the weight of his robes, you felt it—his cock, hot and heavy, fucking thick against you, straining harder with every careless shape you’d drawn into his skin.
Your breath caught— stilling your hand. Fingers curving up as you dared to meet his carmine gaze—scrutinizing right back at you. A sly smirk graces his features—almost as if he was warning you what was about to unroll in the next five minutes.
He notices your solace, almost amused. “What?” he rumbled, low enough that only you could hear. “Scared now? Eh? You play your little games, then freeze the second my cocks stir?”
The war room stayed frozen—fifteen generals bowed and trembling—when Sukuna’s claws traced the hem of your robes. His claws hooked under the lustrous kimono, poking large holes onto the ending laces. The silk bunched between his fingers, sharp nails grazing your thigh. His lips curled, not in warmth but in that cruel amusement that made even gods cower. A rough swipe traced up your bare thigh, sending a shiver you couldn’t hide.
His primary hands worked with deliberate cruelty, stripping you not to cherish but to claim, to assert control in front of the council. Silk slid off your shoulder, leaving your pale skin bare, exposing the swell of your almost naked chest to the hungry, terrified eyes of the generals.
None spoke. None dared. The air reeked of sweat and fear, and Sukuna savored it like the incense burning in the corner.
He could almost laugh by watching the ways your cheeks flushed—the pathetic attempt of trying to reach for the silk fabric only for him to wrinkle it into small pieces, and toss them onto the table in front of him. He watched the way your eyes, glinting with something he revelled in. Lustful fear.
“Look well—,” he pierced, eyes travelling through his fools, voice carrying like a curse, “and remember. What is mine cannot be touched. Not by kings. Not by worms like you. Only I take. Only I consume. Only I enjoy.” He ended with a callous smirk, enjoying the way your eyes revelled at his to figure out what he was planning.
One of his lower arms tore at the fastening of your sash, sending silk tumbling down around your hips in a soft puddle, flowing down you. His other clawed hand flattened against your stomach, keeping you pinned to his lap as though you were nothing more than a prize he’d claimed on a battlefield. You held back a small squeal when he pressed against your navel.
“Ryo, not here—” Protesting, how cute. Fastening your laughable grip around his third and fourth arms—silk slipping off of you like waterfalls—you held back a moan at the way he spread your thighs, keeping a warm palm flat against your inner thighs, letting the cool air mixed with the incense hit your clothed soaking cunt.
"Ryo—" You gasped out— but his palm pressed to your throat—not tight, just enough to silence. Scarlet eyes slid to yours, cold and lustful.
“Quiet.” A warning, one to be heeded with caution. For you at least. He turned his murderous gaze back to his generals, stripping another layer from your body with infuriating calm, not sparing your slightly shaking figure a glance under him, letting the delicate fabric slip from your arms, fall to the ground, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. You were almost fully bare now, much to Sukuna’s sadistic joy.
"Let's teach these fools what competence really means."
“Now,” he snarled at the table, “about the Eastern kings. If any of you bring me another coward’s excuse, I’ll have your head stripped as easily as this robe—like this—."
The last word left his tongue as he tugged another tie loose, fully loosening your kimono robe, your lower silks falling further away and onto the ground—The ministers’ eyes stayed glued to the floor—none stupid enough to watch, though every man in that chamber could feel your exposure, your vulnerability under Sukuna’s iron grasp. And he fucking revelled in it.
A tug of your lace underwear—and it's ripped into pathetic little pieces like the rest. You sigh melodiously when you feel two of his fingers flicking you open—testing you. You tried to close your thighs instinctively, but rough claws parted you roughly.
Fingers plunged into you without warning, slick and invasive, curling to hit exactly where you ached. Where you desired.
You bit back a cry, yet some sounds flew out, cheeks burning with humiliation, and something along the lines of delight. Delight because those aches and pains inside your cunt were being salvaged so wonderfully good.
“Fuckin' hell,” he growled, thumb rubbing your clit in harsh circles“—so tight. So ripe for me. You’re a greedy little whore, aren’t ya'? Taking my fingers while everyone watches? Eh, ya' brat?” Sukuna chuckles roughly, circling your clit with his nails—squelches and wet noises of his nail in contact with your sobbing cunt rung out in the incense filled air, so—so obscene for a strategy room.
And the ministers? One noise and their head would be lolling around here—they knew better than that. They didn't dare look up—didn't even think about it.
A low growl rumbled in his chest as he pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing slow, hard circles over the slick folds of your cunt. Each dab and jab drove shivers through you, the friction unbearable, making soft, strangled whimpers escape your lips.
“Tch—tight little hole,” he sneered, shoving his fingers deeper, knuckles deep—grinding cruelly against your cervix. His mouth curled in a feral grin. “Drenched already? Hah. Sitting here leaking for them to see… pathetic. Perhaps I should’ve split you open sooner.”
You mewl, clawing at his clothed shoulders—looking for some sort of leverage. He filled every aching corner and inch with just his fingers. You leaked all over his fingers—his palm—his wrists. It was hard not to when he was scissoring your folds north to south.
“Too deep—too deep—oh—fuck, don’t stop.” Your broken little crying rips from your throat when he curls his nails against your gummy walls, shutting your eyes like it would help with the searing pain of being pried open by the monster you were seated on. He grinned wider in response, eyes shooting up from your sobbing pussy to his ministers that were clearly sweating and acknowledging of what was happening.
“—Hn. You lot hear that? Eh?” he sneers, gaze sweeping across the horrified ministers. “Your Queen—even when she's split wide open—she begs me not to stop. That’s the kind of loyalty you worthless dogs could never earn.” He's so fucking down for the way you're just opening up for him—his bulge just gets fatter.
You start rocking yourself on his fingers—you couldn't give shit who was watching now, all the remnant embarrassment watered away like your pussy. Nonsense spews from your mouth; absolute nonsense. You have no control over what you say.
Sukuna groans softly when he feels your pussy drag his fingers deeper inside.
“Ya' feel me in here?—fuckin' whore—” His voice reeked of mockery as his fingers curled deep inside you—sharp nails grazing carelessly against your walls. You gasped—something incomprehensible—trembling, the stretch leaving you raw and delirious. His other hand trailed lower, a claw dragging slow and taunting across your stomach—one line, then another, carving invisible marks as your body clenched around him. “And here? Hmm?” He twisted his fingers just right, forcing a strangled cry out of you; giving him cockdrunk little nods.
Long, slender fingers—that were identical to his seven foot height— slam into your clit, rolling and dragging over it, shredding the last of your pathetic bravado. “Look at—fuck— look at how badly you want me,” he growls, voice thick with need and ardour.
Your cheeks are forced together in an embarrassing, humiliating pout by his secondary hands—crushing your face so you have no choice but to watch the brutal, lazy way he splits you open on just his fingers. Absolutely fucking mind blowing.
“This isn’t even me givin' it to ya',” he snarls, pressing harder, fucking you with slow, punishing flicks. “Look at how you’re grinding back. Look at how wet you are—how much you’re fucking yourself on me. Ya' want me so damn badly, it’s really pathetic.”
You nod—delirious and cockdrunk—ecstasy and Sukuna's fingers were all you felt right now, nothing else. "F—Fuck! Ryo'—" you manage to rasp out somehow, "—Cock—fuck—give me your cocks p—please!"
It was never that easy though.
"Did we forget our manners?" He snorted—looking at you with narrowed, cruel eyes. You felt his fingers softly wiggle it's way out, softly leaving the valleys of your cervix and—
"—N-No!—fuck—No!" You pleaded. Begged. And moaned. Clamping a hand around his wrist and securing it there. He couldn't leave—not after you were so close to cumming your brains out.
He snorted again, "No? Reallyy?" Dragging the 'y's, he revelled in the way you kept spasming, breaking out into small breaks to gather yourself and trying not to jump up and down on all of his fingers until they break.
"Nuh uh—please Ryo'—please—" Saliva dribbles down your fucked out face—plump lips red and swollen from you biting to mute your moans. You bunch your fingers around his wrist, pushing it further into your gaping hole.
He hums in approval, crimson orbs travelling back to the mute ministers—who looked like they were done with the both of your theatrics—
“—Look at her,” he snarls, voice low, dangerous. “Squirming—shaking—leaking all over my hand like some desperate little toy. You fools sit there with your papers and maps thinking you’re in control—but she actually listens. She actually pleasures me while you’re too scared to even breathe." He pauses, chuckling softly.
The ministers look like they've been through hell and back.
Sukuna chuckles, "And most importantly—she's fucking competent." He looks at your gaping figure, "Aren't ya'?"
"Yeah—mh—mhm!"
He claws a finger inside of you. Your cunt kissed all his knuckles.
—Andddd you're cumming.
Hot, sticky release gushes around his claws, coating him, dripping down your thighs, and he doesn’t pull away—he keeps fucking you with slow, lazy thrusts of his fingers—extracting out every controlled shudder, every pathetic whimper.
“Fuuuckk—look at that,” he growls, smearing your slick across his fingers, dragging it back into you just to twist again. “do ya' always cum so easily?" He mocks with a sneer, watching your eyelids flutter and your lips drool.
But it isn't enough—it never is. You need something bigger—more thicker. Maybe his cock—or his cocks.
And that's what you're going get.
"Ohh—" You gasp out when you feel his clothed projection rub against your exposed—abused cunt. The friction and heat complementing each other while the high of your orgasm continued.
“Say it, pet.” He knew what you wanted, he just wanted to hear those pathetic little whines and wails from you. To hear uou
“‘—want your cock!—no!—Want your cocks!—” you cry, rolling your hips forward, producing a wet squelch!. “Please—please—please—give it to me!”
"There ya' go, heh." He chuckles, his broad hips shifting—and springing out one of his fat—veined and impossibly long. Your drooling increased tenfold when the other one—fatter than the other popped out—slick with delicious—glistening pre.
You wondered if you would rupture everyone's ear drums before his cock got halfway in—
Your wondering stopped mid way when you felt yourself being hauled up—and then slammed back down.
—All the air escaped your body when his secondary cock plunged deep inside of you, shooting up to the depths of your valley. You felt every vein—every ridge—all those 9 ungodly inches fill you up. You almost felt it in your throat.
And that was just one cock—it bludgeoned your cunt, abused it. All seven, eight—nine inches, inching deeper until there's nowhere left to hide.
"Hah—ah—too deep—sooo deep—"
Your wondering stopped mid way when you felt yourself being hauled up—and then slammed back down.
—All the air escaped your body when his secondary cock plunged deep inside of you, shooting up to the depths of your valley. You felt every vein—every ridge—all those 9 ungodly inches fill you up. You almost felt it in your throat.
And that was just one cock—it bludgeoned your cunt, abused it. All seven, eight—nine inches, inching deeper until there's nowhere left to hide.
"Hah—ah—too deep—sooo deep—" Your scream tore out ragged when Sukuna’s cock stabbed the entrance of your cervix—jackhammering into you.
The way your lashes clung together with wetness, lips trembling as you sniffled out, “Please—I need it… I need all of it,” made his cock twitch, made him want to ruin you for even daring to beg so sweetly.
But he wasn't done just yet.
Slapping and slamming you down onto his cock while he sighs softly and lifts his head to stare at those councillors—those poor councillors. He could almost laugh at the way some of those fools were choking on their own spit—coughing silently—almost glad that they didn't have to face the Heian's wrath and that you did instead. Heh.
"So," Sukuna grins, malevolently—watching the way some shuddered. "Northern and Eastern kings, eh?" He reminded, a sneer reminiscing his face.
Plamp. Plamp. Plamp.
The council chamber stank of sweat and fear. Ministers knelt in a crooked circle around the dais, scrolls trembling in their hands. None dared raise their eyes to their king; and certainly not to the soft— trembling body straddling his lap.
Sukuna’s voice rolled low, mocking— “Pathetic." He remembered the foolish prepositions before he had given you his cock, how pitiful—"You fools whimper about borders and rations as though it matters.” His hand trailed leisurely up your thigh, obscene against the slick skin that failed to cover how deep he was inside you. “Tell me, ministers—should I slaughter their generals in the east first?" He narrowed his ruby eyes, a mock smile spreading, "—Or peel the flesh from their king’s face and wear it when I walk into his throne room?”
No one answered—they tried not to shift, tried not to listen to the slick sounds punctuating his every word. Your nails dug into his shoulders, eyes glassy, breath caught in a broken whine.
“Ah, hear that?—” Sukuna tipped your chin toward him, smirking when your lips parted in a O. “She wants me to decide quickly. Poor little thing can’t hold still while I’m buried this deep. Heh.—"
A choked sob escaped you when his hips flexed. One thrust—deliberate, crushing—shook through you, wet heat echoing against stone walls. Ministers shifted uncomfortably; eyes glued to the floor, but their ears burned with every squelch.
Sukuna leaned close, lips brushing your ear, “Tell me, brat. Should I raze the eastern cities first? Or bleed the capital dry?”
“I—ah—d-don’t know—” you gasped, voice wrecked.
“Not good enough,” he growled, rolling his hips until your cry bounced across the chamber. “Answer me like my queen, not a useless little cocksleeve.”
Tears streaked your cheeks. Your words tumbled between moans, incoherent, needy. Sukuna snorted—stroking your spine as though in mock comfort, though his other hand held your hips down brutally.
The council quelled of fear and sweat.
Sukuna shifted on his throne, his primary hands resting on either side of his arm rest while the secondary hands kept bouncing you. Impaling you. Bunching up the silks around you waist.
“Proceed,” he commanded to the nearest minister who had earlier proposed somewhat of a half brained idea, his voice raspy and dangerous. “Which province dares resist me?”
One minister fumbled with a map. “T—the eastern fortresses, my lord. Their walls are high—”
You gasped as Sukuna shifted inside you, a deliberate roll of his hips that made your thighs tremble and slap against his. His lips curled, though slightly.
“High walls mean nothing when their rulers are weak.” He glanced down at your bobbing figure, nails tracing the curve of your clothed waist. “Tell me, my queen—how would you bring them to their knees?”
Your voice caught, broken on a whimper. Clenching your eyes shut as you tried to form a comprehensible sentence.
“I—I’d… c-cut their supply lines…” You moaned out—scratching his shoulder blades when his cock hit a cranny that felt too good.
The ministers exchanged horrified looks. The Heian barked a cackle which held impression and pride. “Hnh. Even with my cock halfway through her—ah—she strategizes better than you worms.”
A minister clears his throat rather bravely—unrolling a scroll with his trembling fingers while he keeps his gaze to the manuscript in front of him. "“T-the east and the north, my lord… both pose equal danger if—if we engage too soon.” Knuckles white around his parchment, his voice cracked around the ending.
“Equal danger, hm?” he said, dragging a sharp claw along your spine, tugging your head back so your glazed, lust-drunk eyes met his. “Tell me, little whore—north or east?”
Your voice cracked, thick with desperation and need. Clenching around him when you felt his slightly retract. “E-east—my lord… east—”
“East,” he repeated jeeringly; low, tasting it like a verdict on his tongue. His grin spread wide, cruel and satisfied. “You've gotten your answer.”
The ministers—pale and rigid—nodded in response—probably praying this was over—Sukuna shifted you forward with a sharp grip, dragging the second cock up to your leaking, twitching hole. “For return, you’ll take the other,” he purred, lips brushing your ear, venomous and mocking. “All of me. Every inch.”
With a vicious snap, he shoved it in—stretching you wide, your walls fluttering helplessly around both of his throbbing lengths. Your body went rigid, hips jerking uncontrollably while he drilled you, slow at first, teasing, and then fast and cruel, filling you like he owned every inch of you.
He was fucking hard.
He was fucking thick.
It never mattered how many times you had him fuck you dumb—his cocks never managed to amaze you and your whorish cunt.
He leaned back, watching you slump against his shoulder, voice dripping amusement as he raised his head.
“Speak up, fools,” Sukuna growled with a sneer, fangs flashing. “What do you suggest for molding a heir-hah-one born from this masterpiece?”
I just finished reading the fic of gojo and geto, and it was reeeeeally good, you should do part 2😝😝
AAAWWWWW thank you so much!! that means the world to me. 🩷🩷 i would do a part two, but i don't even know what the plot should be 😭 if you have any ideas please gimmie 👐
overachiever | gojo + geto x fem reader | school bullies AU
includes: concepts of CNC, f receiving fingering, cunnilingus, ass humping, dacryphilia, neck kissing, no PIV, mean(ish) gojo & geto, threesome (?), munch gojo, submissive reader, & implication of anal
lmk if i missed any ! ♡
everyone depicted in this fanfiction is 18+ | MDNI
being class president comes with responsibilities. one of them being your classmates, specifically suguru & geto. you constantly nag at them to do their work, leave students alone, wear their uniform correctly— everything under the sun. and they've gotten tired of you telling them what to do.
it's almost like they live to annoy you. there's not a single time you can remember a shred of kindness from the pair. and no, suguru saying "nice ass" does not count. but hey, don't forget the times they poured milk in your lunch, or when they "accidentally" threw the volleyball at your face during gym class, which resulted in you having a bloody nose, or of course, when they stuck gum in your textbooks.
the final bell rings sharp through the halls, and one by one, the classroom empties out. you're left alone, packing your neatly stacked notes into your bag, adjusting your blazer like always, because you wouldn't be caught dead in a wrinkled uniform.
you sigh and push your chair in, ready to leave for today. the hallway is quiet when you slide the door open and the sunset is beaming through the window, so much so that you can see the dust particles dancing in the air. you don't even take two steps before a hand catches your wrist and tugs you back inside.
you gasp, flinching as your back hits the wall with a soft thud. your once squinted eyes open to see.. satoru? ugh, god, not this idiot.
"leaving so soon?" his voice is light, teasing, almost. he's got that stupid grin on his face, the one he always wears when he's about to cross a line. his fingers brush your chin, tilting your face up like he’s examining something delicate. his sidekick, geto approaches with him, hands behind his back as he examines you.
great, double trouble. you think.
"can i help you guys?" you softly push gojo's hand away, face painted with confusion. the two grin, closing in on the remaining space there is around you. their height makes it so they tower over you, and it's more than intimidating. "i've been waiting to catch you alone," geto says as he sneaks behind you. tone calm, low, and firm. but his presence is heavier. you feel his hands settle on your hips like they belong there, he leans in, breath grazing your ear. "and luckily for me, you stayed late. all by yourself.. how convenient." he hums.
"w-what is this about..?" you protest, voice shaky as you're attempting to be let out of geto's grasp, but his hold on you is tighter than ever. gojo just laughs. like this situation is just so comical. you look offended, disgusted almost. "..and what the fuck are you doing?" satoru shrugs with that evil smirk again, head tilting as he watches you squirm in geto's hold. “we’re just saying hi, prez. can’t a couple of concerned classmates check in on their favorite overachiever?”
you glare with a huff, still trying to fight suguru's tight hold on you. suddenly, geto’s lips graze the side of your neck. slowly & deliberately, his breath is warm, and his voice comes quieter this time, more intimate. "you don’t have to fight it," he murmurs. "just let go for once, huh?" gojo steps in closer and you feel a lump in your throat. his hand starts brushing along your inner thigh, teasing under the hem of your skirt. fingers moving slow, bright eyes flicking up to meet your nervous gaze, you're subconsciously shaking your head at him, silently begging for him not to do this.
"tell us to stop." gojo says, tone still playful- but there’s something real under it. "go ahead. say the word." he cocks his head like a curious dog.
"s-sto—"
you're cut off by satoro clearing his throat, making it clear that he doesn't care what you want, he simply just wanted you to think you had a choice. you swallow hard after the rejection, your body’s tense, words caught in your throat. this is wrong. you know it is. but the heat curling low in your stomach betrays you. his hand eventually meets your soft, cotton panties. pressing down on your lips, feeling your pussy begin to pool through them. you breathe out, knowing you gave yourself away
"..thought so." he whispers, slipping under the fabric, and pushing the it aside. "she's wet." he looks at geto, the two scoffing. "oh? so much for miss perfect, hm? deep down you're just a needy girl, aren't you?" suguru whispers, sending chills down your spine. his hands now travels under your blazer and into your button up shirt, tugging on your bra as he finds your nipples.
you whine. "no, please don't.." your eyes are glassy, and it's taking a lot not to allow the tears forming in your eyes to dribble down. geto looks at you with a cold stare. he doesn't feel a single ounce of empathy, he just wipes your tears. "you're so cute like this.." he trails on, kissing your neck, continuing to grope your chest while you cry. "so vulnerable, so submissive, so.. compliant." and with that last word, he pinches your nipples, causing you to wince in pain. "ah! stop, stop, stop, it hurts— please!" he twists and pokes, deliberately hurting you.
he grunts behind you. "ughhh, fuck. you keep crying like that, i'm gonna have to keep this pretty body for myself." he pushes his lower reigen against yours, and your hips subtly shift toward his touch. geto feels it as he smiles against your neck, his lips leaving slow, open kisses along your skin as his hands trail up your waist. "you're so much better when you stop pretending." he says quietly, voice almost tender.
your hands grip at the fabric of your blazer, unsure what to hold onto. everything feels like too much.. their warmth, their mouths, gojo’s fingers now teasing your entrance, playing with the slick in between your legs.
you still push away, but it's no use. geto already has a good grip on your upper body, and while has your lower. one hand is exploring your pussy, his other is squeezing your leg, ensuring you stay still. he squeezes so tight that you're almost sure that you'll see the indents of it the next morning.
the eye contact with him is intense, you try again and again not to meet his orbs but it's useless, especially with suguru holding you still. gojo sinks to his knees in front of you with a dramatic sigh, palms sliding up the backs of your thighs as he grins. “been dying to see what the class prez hides under this cute little skirt,” he murmurs, voice and dark with greed. you gasp as he hooked his fingers into your panties, slowly pulling them down, letting them drop to your ankles like a gift unwrapping itself. "wow.." he tsks and smiles, shaking his head with fake disappointment.
"i knew you wanted it, just look at how wet you are." gojo scoffs in disbelief, taking one digit and running it along your lips, catching a line of your slick on his two pointer fingers finger before licking it clean. your hands shoot out to steady yourself on geto, breath shaky, eyes flicking toward the door. "i-i think someone's coming-" you try to come up with any excuse to get this over with. "you guys should stop." you reason.
the two snicker.
"so? they can watch too." suguru moans as he pushes his cock into the nape of your ass. "this ass is just so plump," he raises a hand to smack it, leaving a stinging sensation as you gasp. "made just for me." your body tenses up with the pain. one part of you needs this, but the other needs this to be over. "now listen to me; i'm gonna give you one chance. i'll be nice, and i won't cover this pretty mouth."
nice..? he calls this being nice?
" be good, and don't make me regret this." despite the odds, you feel an weird sense of relief. it's not like he's letting you go, but it's the bare minimum in this situation. your breath hitches. "what do you say?" suguru questions. "t-thank you, geto.. thank you." you gulp
"no fucking manners.." geto's hand spreads your asscheeks with his cock. "has anyone fucked you here before?" he asks, tone serious and sullen. you shake your head no. "use your words, pretty one." he demanded. "mm-mm," you deny. "no.. never have." with that, he pushes his thick member toward your hole, threatening to rip you open.
"mmphhh—!" you squeal, body immediately trying to get away, slapping his arm and screaming while you can. "no, no, no! please, someone he—" before you can finish your plea, his hand is back on your mouth. "shut the fuck up! i thought i told you to be good, didn't i? you fucking bitch. i was being nice to you, but now i really should shove it in your ass, huh?" you frantically shake your head, saying 'no' through his muffled hands.
“relax,” gojo says, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh, trying to calm you down. it's shocking how he of all people, can have a heart in this predicament. “suguru isn't serious, okay?" before you can answer, his mouth is on you. hot, wet, and fucking devastating. gojo's tongue moves slow at first, teasing and tasting. then deeper, more focused and intimate. your hips jerk forward instinctively, head throwing back into the crook of geto's neck, a whine leaving your throat before you can stop it. the pleasure is so overwhelming you forgot what you were even fighting for, your brain is flickering with bliss.
they loves to see you like this. geto he continued rubbing himself against your ass, dick warm and swollen. "my god. i can't believe you were hiding this from us." he groans. "i really can't wait to take this hole next time."
"no..!" you breathe out, your voice embarrassingly loud. but then you're distracted.
"oh, my fucking.. god." you squeal, attention turning to gojo. his fingers are expertly rubbing your clit while his tongue is all the way inside, and you feel everything. he's practically making out with your pussy, kissing and kitten licking all of you. inside and out. you whimper with a hum, legs subconsciously shaking. you don't even notice how loud you've gotten, and it's like music to their ears. you feel geto's lips on your neck form into a smile, pulling you closer to him, one hand rubbing your breast as his other hand's hold on your mouth becomes more firm. "too loud, now."
"..but damn, those cries of yours make me even harder.."
and you feel it— him pressing against your ass. hard, and grinding slowly against it, precum leaking on you. "feel that?" his breath is heavy, dragging his hips up and down on you. "this is what you do to me." satoru's fingers now replace his tounge. curling inside you, right where you need it. that sweet spot has your legs opening wider and wider, small shakes jolting through you. "stay fucking still." gojo growls. "i'm not done with you yet." you shiver under geto’s steady grip, cries muffled by his palm, but he hums softly in approval. "mhmm.." keep crying like that," he groans, lips brushing your ear. "you're just a mess for us, aren't you?"
his body presses fully against yours. no space left between you, no gaps, no nothing. the heat from him grinding against your ass is impossible to ignore, making your breath hitch. then, geto shifts, and you feel the unmistakable hardness of his dick pulsating with momentary twitches. his hips move more now, slow and deliberate at first, then quicker, deeper. a low moan rumbles from his throat, vibrating through you. he's close, and you know it.
you’re in shambles between gojo’s fast fingers and geto’s rough thrusts. your body breaking apart in waves of pleasure, moaning with no control. you feel something building, and you can't believe it. the two men you hate the most are gonna be the ones to make you cum, harder than you've ever made yourself.
"gojo," you breathe in. "geto, you h-have to stop.. please i'm s-so c-lose!" you beg in desperation and their pace slows down for a quick moment, but once they lock eyes with each other and give one affirmative nod, it's back to fast paced torture. your back aches once more against geto as your moans are chopped into whimpers.
"do it, let it go. you know you want to." satoru urges, sucking your clit while feeling the vibrations throughout your body. "mhhm, don't deny what your body wants. don't deny what i want. give it to us." geto moans, and when you finally come undone, it’s with a shudder and a loud cry, your whole body shaking against them. geto’s grip tightens, and with a loud grunt, he cums right after. breath heavy, voice rough. you feel some of it spurt on your ass, and the rest lightly denting your skirt.
after a moment, he pulls back slightly, a teasing grin playing on his lips as he looks at the faint white liquid that is now staining your skirt. "looks like someone left their mark." gojo jokes after seeing geto. suguru wipes your juices off of his lips with his digits, licking them clean afterwards and pulling himself up. geto releases your body, allowing you to lightly collapse on the cold, tiled floor. he zips his fly back up, tucking himself in like nothing ever happened.
the two walk towards the exit, geto slides the door open. he takes one last look at you. you're a mess, still shaken up, twitching, and panting like a dog in heat. suguru breathes in with smirk. "see you tomorrow, prez." he doesn’t look back. he walks off, calm and collected, like he didn’t just ruin you against a classroom wall?
gojo lingers. he steps lightly as he approaches you, and for a second, you think he might say help you up. crack a joke, offer you a towel, anything to soften the blow.
but he just crouches, those blue eyes burning through you. "clean up the mess, yeah?" he nods toward the floor, where yours and geto's cum spilled. with a smirk, he pats your head like you’re some obedient pet. “later, pretty girl.” he stands, walking away. all you can hear is the ringing in your head and the faint click of his shoes before he yells for his friend.
"suguru, wait up!"
a/n : hi , i haven't posted my fics in so long , so i hope you end up enjoying this <3 ive finally felt comfortable branching out when it comes to writing for other fandoms. (don't worry, i still love avatar) but anyways im back & my requests are wide open! thank you for reading.