Heyyy I'm Aurora… still writing my thoughts and also use any characters yall want I really don’t care bc I’m everywhere. But some of these ideas are books I haven’t seen written before and i would love to read them frrrr
I really like reading but I cannot write for nothing… so here are some of my thoughts and I hope people can build off them so they can write it and I CAN READ THEM 😋😋😋
AND IDC WHAT YALL DO I LOVE READING X READER OR OC
instead of getting the girl, gojo just got her pregnant! how's he supposed to win you over when you only seem to see him as the baby daddy?
synopsis: when the frat president becomes the father of your daughter, the last thing you expected were his brothers to start bidding to be the step dad! can he prove that he's serious about starting a life together for the three of you - or will someone swoop in to steal both his girls?
pairing: frat!gojo x milf!reader x frat!geto (also starring frat!sukuna)
content: mdni!! fluff, angst, and smut, college au, unrealistic frat depictions, parties, drinking, accidental pregnancy, raising a baby, they all want to be the daddy, condoms breaking, one night stands and messy hookups, piv sex, pulling out, lots of pining, gojo being lovesick and stupid, denying feelings, jealousy, multiple povs, more tags will be found in individual chapters
based on this drabble
art cr: @zeilorene0 on x div cr: @/tsumiinum
chapter index
manchild ꕤ sugar talking ꕤ go go juice
taste ꕤ juno ꕤ don't smile
read your mind ꕤ already over ꕤ nonsense
COMMENT TO BE TAGGED!
series | latest oneshots | patreon
a/n: do i have like twenty other series to finish? yes. can i stop myself from starting new ones? no. apologies in advance :3 you guys just get what i have fun writing
Synopsis. Tall, gloomy, and really good with the g-string. There’s nothing that Geto Suguru - rockstar, campus heartthrob, lead guitarist of the Sorcerers - doesn’t have. Except for a new song idea. And you, his cute new muse.
Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, rockstar!Geto, rock band AU, meet-cutes, he’s down bad, song-writing, you’re his muse, Geto with tattoos and piercings, parties, body shots, concerts, campus gossip, pússydrúnk Geto, oraI (fem rec.), spìtting, chokìng p talking, fìngering, ringed fingers, he’s feraI, in the backseat of his car, he’s BIG, D piercings, cervìx kìssing, running from it, headIocks, manhandIing, slight impactpIay, rough s, dùmbifìcation, creampìes, cùmplay, getting together, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 11.6k
A/N. Y’all wanted so daddy Tony provided mwahahah…
“P-please…” Drool cascades down your mouth at an incredible pace, and your neck feels numb from how long you’ve been holding it up.
From how long you’ve just been staring at him—Geto Suguru.
Fresh off of his latest concert, he’s delving his tongue between your folds like an animal. Like he’d been starved all throughout the night- and he can’t seem to stop. He’s got one ringed hand pressed down on your stomach, and the other rovering across your sensitive nub.
You feel him purse his pretty lips and spit, letting the syrupy knot dribble down your thighs like a waterfall.
Geto throws his long, inky hair back; that curved piercing on his lip glittering with the wads of your mess. And he groans, “I have to make it up to my gorgeous muse in some way, yeah?” Especially after the best set of his entire life.
He was insane.
And you’re wondering how the hell you even got here.
.
.
.
“Fuck-” Geto sighs between his clenched teeth, one hand gripping onto his scribbled sheets. The other runs through his hair until it’s all unruly. A few bystanders swoon- it almost makes him feel better.
He’s pacing through the corridors of campus, solely because his bandmates had banned him from pacing inside the practice room. Long legs taking about five normal steps a stride, he absentmindedly nods at all the starstruck passerbys, the fans.
Being in the midst of writing a new song usually does get him this way - for about a day. Two days. Maximum.
But it’s been weeks and he hasn’t been able to jot even a single verse down, hasn’t scrambled together anything for the upcoming gig. Gojo said it was alright - that they could scrounge up something off the old EP - but Geto knew it rested on him, as lead guitarist, and vocalist.
Imagine, an opening act with no fresh songs.
If only he could just write—but what about? Heartbreak? Love? He’d rather write about Yaga.
“Fuck!” He spits again- just in time with your very own startled profanity. A pretty voice.
A cute bump! before the two of you stumble backwards, colliding into each other. A plumage of papers burst into the air, and start showering the smooth tile below. Geto’s down at the mess and internally groaning; all those half-written, mostly-crossed songs mixed in with what looked like your lecture notes. Perfect.
Without looking up, he’s bending down to rifle through them, when-
“Oh, you’re in a band?”
“Yes?” Geto snaps his head up, somewhat shocked that you’re speaking to him, even though he knows he shouldn’t be. And then Geto Suguru - campus heartthrob, gets a laundry list of numbers after every concert, the untouchable - catches a glimpse of you and just…stares.
With his raven brows slightly raised, and the shapely curve of his mouth parting. Ever-so-slightly.
“Hi.”
You have to fight back a smile, “Hi.” Was that seriously the red tint of a blush crawling across his handsome cheekbones?
Oh, he can’t stop staring.
It’s long enough that you’re clearing your throat, dropping your gaze as you pick up your own papers. “I should have probably started off with that. Sorry I uh- I just see you’ve been writing songs.”
“Trying to,” he huffs. Half-joking.
And then the intricate metal of his ring brushes your own fingertips as you hand him one of his sheets; less song lyrics and more ugly caricatures of Nanami. He lingers the touch. It’s electric.
It makes the forefront of his fingers twitch. Almost jolt. And they itch towards you as if trying to prolong the skin-to-skin contact, as if trying to hold onto a pen.
It suddenly hits Geto - he needs to write.
“Hey uh- do you have a- thank you.” His voice trails off as you catch his drift and quickly hand him a pen, Geto then rapidfire scrawls down a few words. Phrases. Not even entire sentences, just an explosion of feelings that pulsed like the thumping of his own heart.
And then someone calls out his name - perhaps in greeting, perhaps in a yell to move off of the middle of the hallway - and his hand stops writing. Fuck- what was that? He looks at you again, and hands you back the pen, “I promise I’m not usually this unsmooth.” Holding out his hand for a handshake, your palm fits in his and he hears nothing but melodies in his head. “The name’s Geto, Geto Suguru. But you can call me Suguru, all my friends do. I’m in the band ‘Sorcerers.’”
You’re introducing yourself with your own name and he almost has the urge to write that down, too. Humming, “It’s alright, band stuff, I assume?”
“Band stuff.” You were walking with him now, side-by-side.
“Keyboard?”
“Guitar.” It made sense - the tattoos that crept all over his strong, beefy arms, those twinkling piercings. What didn’t make sense was just why he felt the need to show it all off for you; like the minutes before a big concert, his fingers trembled. But he grins, and it’s something devilish. “And vocals.”
Walking backwards now so that your gorgeous, gorgeous face can face him. You slow down your walk and he’s realizing that you’ve arrived at your class.
He’s realizing that he just might not see you again.
And he wanted to see more of you.
A lot more of you.
A few of your classmates throw the two of you looks as they pass, walking inside the class. Geto was a bit of a campus legend; and for as popular as he was, seeing him talk to someone outside of his band - especially during his song-writing blues - was rare. Exceptionally rare.
So he bites the inside of his cheek, “Actually…you think you’d wanna see it in person sometime? Like—tonight?”
“Oh?”
.
.
.
“Man, a grown-ass man should not be giggling like that.”
“I would hate to remind you that you do nothing but giggle.”
“I’m just special like that, Nanamin~” Gojo winks at the blond-haired drummer, who makes to throw down his drumsticks before paying attention to the concert setlist instead. Anything but him.
Unfortunately, Gojo does not have that willpower and was entirely too invested in whatever had his best friend acting like a middle-schooler with a crush. Bright-eyed. Flush-faced. Glued to his phone since before rehearsal started. Skipping around the corners of the practise room—skipping, he swears.
He throws a wadded up ball of paper - yet another one of Geto’s failed lyrical attempts - at the back of his head. It hits. And he doesn’t even notice.
Shoko herself looks up from her phone, “But in all honesty, what is up with you today?”
“Did a new type of guitar drop or—” Gojo grumbles from his other guitar station, looking above the metal rim of his glasses. Yes, the ones he wore indoors.
Geto pulls himself away from his glaring screen with a low, mindless, “Huh?”
“For fuck’s sake what’s got you so-”
“Hi, sorry- I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Just then, you walk in. Door opening; there’s no way you could’ve gotten in without invitation. And there’s no way you weren’t invited by Geto.
Because, immediately, your eyes meet his deep, amethyst ones. Like two ships at sail, you’re beaming a smile at all of them - but the brightest one for him. Going to stand at his side as he plunges his phone back in his trousers. And then he gets it.
Oh, they get it.
Nanami blinks.
Haibara waves.
Shoko takes a picture (with flash, of course.)
Gojo whistles.
And then Gojo promptly gets smacked upside the head - by two different hands, two different people. Geto makes a note of wiping off his palm before introducing the rotation of amateur musicians and visitors to each other.
“Now what she’s really here for isn’t your dumbasses.” He’s rolling his eyes, pulling on the lightning purple guitar of his. “It’s for the music-” He tilts his head with a smile, “-and me.”
You were here for a few demonstrations, after bumping into Geto and exchanging numbers - to which they gladly pump out the best of their best for a pretty girl. Hell, Geto thinks he even sees Nanami and Shoko putting in a lil’ extra effort, and can’t help but strum even louder.
Letting the electric twang of his guitar take over.
It still rings in the air after they finish a runthrough of their first three songs. And you’re clapping fervently by the end of it.
“That was amazing.”
“Why thank you, sweetheart-”
“Why thank you, gorgeous.” Geto quickly takes over, silently glaring at Gojo to leave. He gets the message - albeit reluctantly, and soon enough is being dragged by Nanami, Haibara, and Shoko out for some fresh air and a brief break outside the room.
Leaving the two of you alone.
“So…”
“So.” Geto’s scratching behind his neck, where there was a massive inky tattoo of a dragon. Snaking. Fuck- when has he ever had this much trouble talking to…well, anyone, really?
And he’s clearing his throat, not letting the silence drag out for much longer before the thick fabric of his guitar strap loops over your own neck. Safely swaddled. You’re looking up at him with such adorable confusion as he snickers, “Wanna learn how to play?”
“Hell yeah.” And before long your fingers are twisting over a few chords - tangling. He’s attempting to teach you about the G chord and the E major, and you’re attempting not to fall to your knees.
After a few unsuccessful tries, he’s catching onto your desperation and gesturing for you to sit on the carpeted floor. Perhaps to teach you hands-on, perhaps to make you relax- but whatever it was, you certainly didn’t expect him to sidle up behind you.
For his toned pecs to press up against your shoulders, you could hear Geto’s gravelly breath graze the shell of your ear. He leans over, his lengthy hair tickling your neck. “Like…” Much larger hands covering yours, “-this.”
And then he’s just so gentle.
You’re not sure what exactly you expected, but he holds your hands in his like glass. Oh-so-softly helping your fingerpads prick at the strings of his guitar, “S’easier this way.”
“Yeah–” you’re breathing out, practically in his lap with the way that his long legs were curling underneath yours, nowhere to go. And his tone core presses against your back, weight leaning slightly on you so that he can see what you do.
You don’t know what you’re doing.
You grin once your hapless chords actually start to formulate into something that sounds like it’s part of a song. Something slow. Almost sensual. “It’s beautiful- what song is this, I don’t think it’s one you played?”
“Because it’s not.” He’s purring from behind, piercing catching the light as he grins. “You really like it~?”
Something was dripping darkness in his voice, and your breath catches. “Y-yes.” He was taking over completely. Guiding your hands with his experienced ones, they slide looooong and slow down the neck of the guitar.
From the back of Geto’s throat, he’s murmuring a barely-audible few words. “Come and get it now. Come and get it now.” Lowered eyes gliding in a feline manner to you, “Baby show me what you’re doing- hm.”
You snap out of your little bubble as he stops abruptly.
Looking somewhat sheepish, “It’s a work in progress.”
“I think it might be my favorite already.” You admit. And you don’t know whether it’s your imagination - you don’t know whether you’re projecting - but you could’ve sworn that his heat does a thunderous ba-dump–! from where his chest was plastered to your body from behind.
You’re yelping, jostled as he pulls you in even closer. “That so? Maybe you can help me write it then?”
“Me?” You balk, “How-”
The plump end of his lips curl, sinfully. It was almost unfair how he could look so attractive without even trying- “Just by sitting there. Just by being here. It helps.”
“By being here with you?”
“Being here with me.” Confirming. And by the way he was gazing upon you through his peripheral vision, fingerpads still tracing your digits, your knuckles, even though you weren’t playing anything. “S’that a problem?”
You find it hard to swallow. “Not at all.”
Close.
You two were too close.
And that wouldn’t have been a problem if you were moving away—but the fact of the matter is that you were moving closer. Your lashes flutter, and his own dilated pupils alternate in a triangle between your right eye, your left eye, your mouth.
Closer.
Until-
“I’m coming in and you two better not be fucking in there- ouch! What was that for Nanamin?”
“You’re a bad wingman, Gojo-senpai.”
“Sorry, Haibara.”
Before the Sorcerers can bustle their way through those soundproof walls once more, you’re hastily scrambling off of Geto’s lap. For now.
.
.
.
“I heard you’ve tamed the cult leader of Tokyo Tech-”
“The who?” You squint at Utahime, trying to figure out whether she was simply trying to raise your blood pressure so early in the morning. No. She was dead serious.
“No need to hide it, Shoko already told me everything. So- about the cult leader of Tokyo Tech?” she repeats, as if that was enough. And when you look dangerously close to an aneurysm, she’s sighing. “Geto Suguru? Tall, tattoos, piercings, dark hair, devastatingly hot- you know who I’m talking about, I can see you fantasizing about him already.”
“I’m not fantasizing.” You’re insisting, though it sounds as if you’ve been caught. Any louder and Yaga would give up on glaring at the two of you, and instead send you out of the lecture completely. Only just started, but already the gossip was hot in class.
You just couldn’t believe it was about you and him.
With your pitch slightly back to normal, you try to sound as civilized as possible as you say, “I am not fantasizing. Nor will I ever.”
Utahime puts her face in her open hand and shakes her head, “Right. Nor will you ever. So that means you completely, totally wouldn’t fantasize about him walking into this class right now and sweeping you off of your feet?”
Well, you had to admit that class was getting a bit droning…but you had to stick to your claim. It was the principle of it. “Correct.”
“And so that means you completely, totally wouldn’t care about the fact that he just did walk into this class?”
“Corre- what?” Your desk rattles, just a little bit, as you turn your body around to face the entrance. And you find that Utahime hadn’t been lying: not the part about him coming to class, or the part about him being ‘devastatingly hot’ from prior.
He saunters in with such confidence, Yaga himself doesn’t point out that he’s just about fifteen minutes late. And he stands at the foot of the lecture hall, eyes scanning the seat and- you don’t think you’ve moved faster in your life than at that very moment. You’re throwing both yours and Utahime’s bags onto the floor from where they’d been placed on the empty seat beside you.
Ignoring her half-hearted ‘hey!’ you let Geto spot you. Like his eyes were drawn to you.
It’s then that you’re noticing he’s wearing glasses. You think he should wear them more often.
And he’s gladly taking the seat, his dark, skin-tight arm-cut pressing against your side. “Thanks, gorgeous.” Noticing all the stares, perhaps even a few whispers that erupt. He leans in real close to mutter in your ear, “They’re just jealous.”
Somewhere in the distance, you think you hear your friend gag. After some brief introductions, you ponder, “I didn’t know you were in this class.”
“Never attended.” He slumps in his chair, making himself look almost too lanky for it, almost too big. In front of you, you think you see Yaga’s bushy brows raise at the interaction - and the fact that Geto Suguru was actually here. “Yaga doesn’t count it. Only reason I’m topping the class—” He smiles, showing off his lip piercing. And if you didn’t know any better, you swear you could see that he had a tongue piercing, as well. “-second place.”
“Braggart.”
“Sore loser.”
“Nerd.”
“That I am,” he chuckles. Geto shuffles through his backpack, patch-worked with various pins and decorations of bands—you think you can make out Green Day, Nirvana, The Garden, and a few more that he’s more than happy to show off.
What he pulls out isn’t his laptop, or a textbook of any kind - it’s his lyrics notebook. And he spreads it open between the two of you, to a page with a few half-written verses.
Met each other just the other day.
But you got me feeling some type of way.
And then past an empty space where you assume he wanted to add in some more:
I wanna hear you…
I wanna see you…
With your own pencil, you’re making a few tweaks. You finish off that second-last sentence that he seemed to be stuck on—I wanna hear you confess.
Geto’s pearly white teeth sink into his bottom lip, and he toys with the chunky rings on his fingers for a few seconds. You’re unsure if that meant he was hesitating. If that meant he was thinking. Considering.
Before he leans over and finishes the other line—I wanna see you undress now.
Something zips down your spine, your thighs clench- and you find that he follows them with his own. Bumping his knee against yours. And you push right back against his, following the quiet scritch-scratch of his graphite starting to jot down a few more lyrics.
You got me down on my knees.
It’s getting harder to breathe out.
You always did seem to pull that out of him.
Utahime pinches you as the two of you continue, whispering in your ear so that only you could hear. “What was that about not fantasizing?”
“Shut up.”
.
.
.
A party.
An open bar.
And the thrumming music.
But you and Geto weren’t anywhere near the dance floor, or the lengthy drinks table, or where the couples sneak off to make out- actually, scratch that. Because you two might just be occupying a lil’ alcove in Gojo and Geto’s penthouse apartment.
With the heady college party raging around you two - one that the band had been the one to invite you to - somehow, you’d found yourself with him. Shoulders against shoulders. Skin against skin. Your hands brushing against his when you pick up the pen from his hands–
“Oh, I like this one better than the last-” You circle the lyric that he’d just jotted down, with a few notes of your own that he always loved to read. Something about ‘churning his gears’, whatever that meant. He was almost done with the song now, it seemed.
“Mmm, that’s what I was thinking.” He hums, thoughtfully, dark bangs falling across his face. It was no wonder that half the party was split between waltzing past the alcove merely to get a glimpse of him.
And the other half was on the other side of the penthouse, out of pure shyness.
The thick pads of his fingers scratch out some more writing on his notepad, messy and masculine. His rings glint as he’s scrawling, “If I can figure…it out. I’d take you…back to my house and—” He halts, unsure how the rest of that sentence would go. With his tongue still rolling on those words, he’s glancing at you sidelong.
As you tilt your head in confusion, he’s smirking. “No, s’just funny. You’re already in my house.”
“Mhm, and what are you suggesting?” You raise a brow.
“Ohhh, nothing. Just the song.” And he raises one right back, teasingly. His cherry-vodka laced breath wafting across your features, “And what are you suggesting, gorgeous?”
“Nothing, just the song.”
“Are you sure?” He’s tilting his head down at you, even in the cramped space he somehow seemed to tower over you with his hulking frame. Sheer size. And his deltoid pushes against the side of your body, “You’re awfully close, y’know?” The way that he was leaning even closer.
And you can only sputter at his audacity- “Are you sure?”
“Oi! You two—” Gojo Satoru always did seem to have a penchant for interruptions. You don’t know if you’re maddened by it or grateful- the air was thick, and you couldn’t seem to breathe as well as you might have.
Directly in front of you, from the other side of the room right opposite, Gojo’s waving his hand frantically. His booming voice echoing all across the house, “Stop flirtin’ in there and take a shot!”
Oh, you could imagine the rumors that were taking root already.
Geto flips him off. With a deadpan expression that told his best friend that he’d be staying here with his work (and you, mostly just for you), thank you very much.
Gojo trills, “We’re doing body shots~”
“Let’s go, gorgeous.” Instantly, he looks at you.
“Wha- huh?” You don’t know whether you’ve sustained whiplash by how fast he’s changed his mind, or by how fast he’s moving. With his fingers smoothly replacing the pen in your hands with his own set of digits—big n’ warm.
Geto holds both his lyrical notebook and you as close as possible as he’s meandering through the party. Through the slightly taken-aback gasps, the flirtatious waves, and the grinding bodies.
Gojo looks smugly accomplished by the time you’re making it through the whirlwind party in the middle to reach their table of alcohol. There’s a small group forming now already, cheering on the reunion of the main duo.
Geto looks at him, and there’s a small flicker of understanding that passes. Invisible but existing.
“You two go first-” The white-haired man then thrusts one full shot glass of tequila into Geto’s hands- then immediately grabs ahold of you and cricks your head side to tap out a line of salt down the column of your throat. A wedge of lime between your teeth, pulp side out. Without any adhesive surface, it was messy, scattering nearly up to your jawline. It tingles on your skin once you realize just what was about to happen.
As Geto’s mouth tightens at Gojo’s rough handling of you, the other finishes off. “-I’ve gotta find Nanamin first so he can do one with me.”
Shoko groans. “You’re a lightweight.”
“Exactly.”
“Kento ran out of the building I believe, senpai.” Haibara beams.
And as Gojo whines his protests, Geto can only shake his head- partially because of his band’s antics, partially to clear his fuzzy brain because of you.
You. You. You.
Oh, what gave you the right to present that sensual neck up at him like that? Your teeth worrying your lower lip as if you were nervous. He catches the way your gaze slightly tracks towards the cat-calling crowd, and one roughened hand of his cups your cheek.
Tilting your face ever-so-carefully to look at him instead of the audience.
His pinkish tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he leans in close- as if he was going to whisper something. As if he was going to kiss you.
Before Geto immediately downs the acrid liquid in the glass, barely even reacting. Barely even finishing his swallow before his long, flexible tongue glides up the salt lining your throat. And then where he didn’t hesitate before, didn’t even slow down: he takes a look at the sour lime between your lips and grins.
Slowly, agonizingly.
He’s moving his greedy maw forwards, the plump edges of his mouth hovering above your own. You feel the pressure on the lime as he lightly sucks—and as your knees weaken, he’s easily taking it into his own mouth.
With just the lightest graze of his lips on your lips.
An indirect kiss? A direct kiss? You didn’t even know at this point.
Geto stares at you through his wispy bangs, dead-straight in your widened eyes when he sucks on the lime. Easily ridding it of all juice, he takes it out.
Then, like a gentleman, the fat crown of his thumb wipes away the stray salt that dusts your jawline. Somewhere near the edge of your lips that you’re sure wasn’t coated in salt at all. But you weren’t complaining.
Your ears were ringing, and only too late do you realize that the half-drunk students around you were in uproar. Gasping. Fanning. Staring.
Gojo himself gapes slightly speechless.
“Meddle about.”
“What?” You startle, it had been thick silence in your little bubble until now–like an extension of the alcove. But Geto was the first to break it.
He’s smiling down at you like he knew something you didn’t, then taps the song notebook in your hands- when did it even get in your hands? “If I could figure it out-” Smoky breaths, like he’d just run a marathon. Pants. Heaves. His eyes draaaag down your body, that special outfit you’d put on just for the party. “-I’d take you back to my house, so we can meddle about.”
Oh.
Oh.
It takes you far too long to recognize he’s talking about the song. The song.
Even if he’s looking at you in a way that shows otherwise.
“Just get a room- honestly-” Gojo whines, but then promptly turns to Shoko. “Tell me you got that on camera- please tell me you got that on camera.”
“I did.”
It was palpable. To just about everyone in the room—including a gruff Nanami Kento who walks back in after a few urgent calls from Haibara, then immediately blanches as he looks around the room. At the two of you.
He turns to run.
And as the three others turn to run as well (towards Nanami, in order to catch him), you turn to Geto- only to find that he’s already looking at you. He takes a long lick of his lower lip, lapping up the remnants of liquor. Something glinting in his dark eyes, as if he was trying to figure something out.
Something.
.
.
.
“Hey, let me try something.”
It was the day of their concert, just before. And you’re looking on in slight confusion as Geto taps away the last few notes of his rehearsal, in the green room. The other quartet had slipped out for last-minute drinks beforehand, it was a somewhat dingy hole-in-the-wall bar, but Geto had told you that the music here was legendary.
You trusted him. So you don’t question it either when he’s dragging you by the hand to sit upon one of the big, boxy speakers they kept in the corner of the room.
Making sure the cable connection with his electric guitar was alright- before he strums.
You gasp—the vibrations were tingling all the way at the tip of your feet, and up to the very crown of your scalp. And everywhere in-between. Especially between your legs.
You gape, and Geto snickers like he knew exactly what you were thinking. He hums, low in the aftermath of the guitar screech. “Pretty nice, huh? D’you wanna sit on one of those while we play up there?”
“A-are you sure?” Could you even handle that?
“Mhm. And I think it’ll help to have you so close, too- when we play our new song.” He’s helping you hop off the speaker and stand on your slightly wobbly legs. Arm still helping support you as you teeter your way towards the green room sofa.
It was covered in a blanket of parchment. Sheet music, papers, lyrics.
As you silently look through all the different versions of that song he’d been writing, Geto sits beside you. Arms against arms. Thighs against thighs. Bodies against bodies. Shuffling through all these papers, it almost reminds you of the day you met.
“So many rewrites,” you giggle. Looking through all the infinite crosses and scratches on the papers as he wrote, and rewrote, and rewrote. All day and all night, it seemed. And yet he’s found that everything, words especially, just seem to flow easier around you.
“I wrote it for you.” His dark lashes lower, confessing. “They’re all for you.”
Your heart races- a part of you expected it. A part of you still can’t believe it. “You did?”
“Yeah.” He turns to face you, properly, now. With his predatory gaze making a beeline for your mouth, “S’that a problem?”
“Yeah.” You swallow, “And I like it.”
And then your back’s splayed out across the couch, draped all over Geto’s toned front. He’s got one of his knees wedged between your thighs, and you’re yelping at the sudden movement.
You were just so cute- he’d barely even done anything, and yet you were starting to drench those poor panties of yours already. If he grinded his knee any harder, then he’s sure he’d have a splotchy dark spot that all the audiences would see once he’s up on that stage.
But right now, he didn’t care.
Not at all.
One tattooed hand of his pins down two of yours somewhere by the armrest of the couch.
And your cunt twitches when his face starts looming closer. The shimmering tip of his tongue toying with his lip piercing for a few seconds. Eyes partly-closed to watch you through his lashes, and his mouth greedy to taste yours. He throatily whispers, “I think I just finished the entire song right now, gorgeous.”
Like this, you’re raising your head to meet Geto halfway with a whine. Fluttering your gaze shut as you ready yourself to kiss him—
“Hey, d’you wanna shot before we head ou- ohohoh?!”
“Oh.”
“Congratulations, Geto senpai!”
Nanami leaves, the only one out of the four that seemed to have some inkling of respect for your privacy. Though, to be fair, this was the common green room. And as you try your very best to block out Gojo’s screeches, and Shoko’s constantly shuttering camera, Geto dips down.
Not to kiss you - not right now - but rather, to whisper in your ear. “After the show, m’gonna take you back to my house so we could meddle about.”
.
.
.
After that, it wasn’t just meddling about.
Hell, after that, the two of you didn’t even make it to his damn penthouse.
The minute the concert was over to roaring cheers and quite a few bras thrown on-stage- Geto’s meaningful eyes had locked straight with yours. Seated upon the speaker, and dripping wet from what he could tell from your face.
He doesn’t think he even debriefed with the band or said his goodbyes.
Just a hand on your wrist, the other on your waist. Attached meanly so that he can give the side of your ass a good smack- Geto’s pushing you into the back of his 2018 jet-black Dodge Demon, parked outside the dingy bar. Thank fuck he didn’t decide to take the bike today.
Slamming you into the leather backseats, pinning your hips down.
You’re fucking them back into him already, just as he cups your drivelling pussy through your panties. Whining, “P-please, Suguru. Don’t tease.”
“Fuck-” He’s hissing, taking his hand off of your cute cunt as if it burned. And it did - not to have you in his mouth and around his fingers, that is. First, he’s letting his dark leather jacket drop to the floor, right along with his undershirt.
And you take the time to admire how sexy he was.
From the detailed tattoos that trickled down his neck, to the dragon on his back, to the side of his hip that was decorated with one of a sting-ray. Right on his v-line.
Then he’s moving to take off his fat, silver rings—but you stop him right there. And the look on your face must say enough for you, because just then you’re seeing his features split with such a brilliant smile. Oh, he knew what you wanted. Geto huskily spits, “Alright then, naughty girl. So take it.”
You’re letting off a sudden yelp once he plunges his cold, ringed fingers between your spit-slicked lips.
He’s swabbin’ them all around like an animal, letting your maw suck on him like your favorite lolly. And, fuck, he can’t lie- watching you drool and whine around him like this might just be the hottest thing he’s ever seen.
With two glittering rivers of spit dripping down either side of your mouth, you’re moaning once you catch sight of his hand snaking down to his pants. “Mmm, gorgeous, I wanna make you sing.” With only one hand, he’s undoing his chunky belt and the rest of his buttons.
He looks you right in the eyes - not even the slightest bit shy - as he pushes down his dark pants so that you can see the bulging outline of Geto’s erection through his boxers. Rock-hard.
And just as you gasp—his fingers reel back from your slobbery mouth, and slightly teases down your slit. You gush with the drag of his thick thumb, all around him till his wrist was all wet with sweet syrup.
You hold onto his flexing shoulders, “O-oh.” Your hips rutting directly into his hands.
“Oh- oh, gorgeous.” Geto doesn’t even want to speak too loud, not when your pussy was echoing out the most lewd squelches. “She’s reeeeeally happy to see me, huh? Haven’t had a warm welcome this nice since- ever.” His fingers swirl ‘round your tight hole and watches as you just keep on pushing out wave upon wave of your juices. Swirl upon swirl.
Until his digits were just so glazed in all your cream that he couldn’t help but carnally yearn for a little taste. Just a little - you can’t blame him.
Glistening rivulets of slick travel down his pale forearm as he lifts his hand up- you were just that wet for him. And then Geto sucks—then his eyes widen. Then he pants. Then he almost flinches at just how cloyingly good you tasted on his savoring tongue.
Looking you right in your eyes, Geto licks up every last drop from his fingers. And he gusts out the most primal slurps as he does so.
“Oh, gorgeous,” he’s repeating, like before. But there was something different this time. Something faintly…wrecked. As the last few dollops of slick disappear down his throat, he groans. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, “Oh, fuck- that’s not enough.”
It all happens at once. All of a sudden, he’s on his knees on the floor of the backseat. Knees digging into the carpet below, your upper half being more or less propped up on the cushion.
It’s giving you whiplash how fast it happens, and you’re staring at Geto in slight shock at his strength. To which he catches your cute, bulged gaze and answers, “M’not playing around anymore, gorgeous.”
Skirt, panties—everything is torn off of you with only one of his hands. That lacy lil’ underwear of yours in particular catching his interest. He makes sure to put it in his back pocket - then turns on the backseat light. Uncaring, because his windows were tinted pitch black.
Right now he just smears apart your pussylips with his two thumbs. He’s never seen a prettier fuckin’ sight; how glittering and wet you were, with your folds so swollen that it looked like you were pouting up at him.
Geto plants one sweet lil’ peck right in the middle of your cunt and lingers, just smelling the sugary whiff of your body wash. And that primal scent of your pussy—
“Mmm, y’know what they say about guitarists?” He’s murmuring wetly, right against your sex so that you’ll squirm all cutely.
“Wh-what?” You puff out, a heady breath.
He doesn’t answer- that’s because your wettened pussy is answering for you. With a great, upheaving squeeeeelch he’s sinking inside his lengthy tongue. Past your folds n’ all the way to spearhead into your gooey insides. Muffled, “That.”
It’s barely even registering in your mind, because then Geto’s thrusting his ridged tastebuds in n’ out like he’s gone insane.
In and out, in and out.
With such vulgarity, he’s pressing himself nose-deep against your cunt and breathing you in. Letting the sharp edge of his nose just press on your clit, Geto’s jaw works overtime to prod his bludgeoning tongue.
Slapping against the roof of your pussy, he’s prolonging his muscle into spots you didn’t even know you had. “Oh my n-ngh, fuck!” And so thick, just stretching out your damp hole until you see white.
You gurgle on your own spittle at the sloppy drags of his tastebuds, and pathetically attempt to push back on his clammy scalp. “W-wait, I can feel a- ngh, don’t tell me you really have a…”
“Have a what, gorgeous?” Just to tease you, Geto jerks his head back- letting his tongue flop out of your pussy for just a second. And you’re missing his size inside you, but most of all you’re awestruck by the cold metal piercing right in the middle of his pink tongue.
And he was proudly stuffing it straightly back into your entrance, this time spitting. He smears the line of saliva that glues to your sultry folds, “A piercing- yeah. S’that a problem?”
“N-no…” Your head starts to drop backwards at the sudden usage of his piercing now. You could feel that circular orb poke into your soft innards, like a cold finger almost. You’ve never felt anything like this. “I like it- oh! I like it, I really do—”
“Mhm, glad we cleared that up, baby.” Geto purrs, and he lightly smacks the front of your pussy in adoration. Watching as specks of pearly slick spurt all over his hand, “Now, how about this?”
Before you know it, he’s squeezing in the crowned tip of his finger past your hole - two of them, in fact. And your elastic entrance stretches with the most rawly wet noises, ones that he leans his ear closer to hear even better. Even louder.
Geto snickers meanly once one of his rings catch on your snug hole, and you flinch. “There we go-” He eases them in with repeated pumps, “Theeere we go. Hah, told you I wanted to make this pretty lady sing.”
“Fuh-fuuuuck, I can’t help it, ngh.” Your entire body breaks out in trembles, and the bottom one of your lips starts wobbling.
Oh, he could write songs- fuck that, he could write an entire album about you at this very moment.
But right now, he had more important things to do. Namely: you. And Geto plucks apart your sticky folds to take a good, long look at your cunt swallowin’ in his fingers. Push after push. Probe after probe.
The knobbly, scouring ends of his fingers delve in deep and send you spiralling. “You don’t need to mmm, help it, gorgeous.” He’s continuing where your conversation had trailed off. “You just need to…”
And he’s gulping wet wads of saliva that just slide down his throat.
His thick Adam’s apple bobbing, Geto’s flaring his nostrils- making sure to focus his entire aim on exactly hitting that one spot he knew you’d love. That one spot he’s thrusting in with a rough jackhammer and pushing—“-to project.”
And you were projecting that pretty voice alright.
You’re screaming almost feverishly at the sensation of him scraping your inner lining, your walls cling onto him maddeningly. Gobbling him up as he hits your g-spot at a frenzied pace - once, twice, thrice.
“Please-” Babbling out stupidly, tears cascade down your cheeks when he manages to shove your wet orifice apart. You’re drip-drip-driiiiping gummy wetness once he pushes in a second fat fingertip, the globular edge of his swipin’ each nook n’ cranny of your cunt. “Please please please- I need ngh-”
“Yeahhh, who do you need, gorgeous?”
“Y-you…”
Geto cups his ear with a mocking smile, and he’s crushing your throbbing clit between his front teeth. Just gnawing. “Mhmmm—?”
“You-” You’re sobbing out - squealing. Your back hits the seat of the cushion as you slump over, and he’s forced to push down on your stomach with one hand just to stop you from rovering about. Pinning you down.
“Babyyyy, you know I love to hear your- hah, voice.” He’s drawling out, and his words were just as sloppy as his mouth. Just salivating all over. “I have a feeling you can be louder though.”
“Sugu-”
“Louder~”
Putting all the pressure on your lower body when he sliiiiides every inch of his long, knobbly fingertips inside. The doughy pads of them push into your g-spot just right, until you felt all battered n’ bruised by him. “Please- you- ngh, you, Suguru.”
“There- what did I tell you. Fuck, I wish I could h-have this on speaker.” Groaning. Panting. “Yeahhhh, you like that, huh? Want my tongue, t-too? Oh.”
But then you’re clasping his sweaty forehead and shoving him down between your legs. Where his curving tongue was sloppily zig-zagging all over, and you’re trilling. “K-keep going, mmm.” Cock twitching. Rutting so hard that his damned muscle car jostles.
He couldn’t even catch his breath - and he didn’t want to. “Well, I hafta make it up to my muse in some way, yeah?”
His tongue is so expert, too. You’re easily getting louder - even more than you first thought possible. Partly because of the way his pierced tongue was resting on your overstimulated nub. Flicking your ruddied clit until it felt all raw, again n’ again—you were so far gone by this point that Geto can feel each pulse of your hot core on his mouth.
And he counts it - one, two, three, four. Like the beat of his favorite melody- fuuuuck, he was so pussydrunk right now that he might just memorize it and write it as the next beat of his song.
“Y-you’d- hck! what?” You’re hiccuping in pure disbelief, unsure if those words had actually (accidentally) fallen from Geto’s mouth, or if he was makin’ out with your cunt so good that you were hearing things. You wouldn’t be surprised.
“Exactly what I jus’ said.”
And Geto isn’t, either.
Of course, he was bound to be fucking stupid on the sultry taste of your pussy. Especially when you were streaming out wet ribbons of slick with each rovering push of his fingers.
He vulgarly wets his lips a lil’ in the liquid leaking out, and then promptly plops his open mouth over your sopping hole. Geto had lapped up all the slick stuck to your folds, your thighs, your clit - now the one place left was inside.
And he was still hungry.
His pierced lip draaaaagging over your quivering orifice, Geto starts to push his tongue in eagerly. Uncaring for the way he was already barreling his fingers inside. Uncaring of the absolutely incredible stretch that was making your back arch.
N’ he’s so dexterous. Alternating between wet whacks! at the front channel of your walls, and then licking over your clit. He was plastered to your pussy in a way that felt maddening- “Sh-shit, I don’t think m’gonna last, Sugu—”
“Sugu, huh?” He raises a neat brow at the nickname, “I like that.”
And if it was possible, his narrowed strikes are accelerating. More honed, more precise to your g-spot, it’s like a cute lil’ bullseye that he can’t stop hitting. All because it makes you shake and whine like that.
“Mmm, yeah, just like that. C’mon, gorgeous girl- come and get it-” Geto gruffs now, the back of his throat all hoarse. His baritone voice was on the verge of breaking at this point. “Ride my mouth, would you?”
You’re whimpering, because Geto’s then opening his pretty mouth even wider for you to ride him - but you’re so weak.
Your limp knees struggling to keep on rutting- only for Geto to then shift a free hand underneath you.
Feeling all his firm biceps n’ muscles bulge as he keeps you up, just so strong- fuck, was it all those guitar sessions? He gurgles out, “Upsy daisy. Lemme help you cum, baby.” Dragging; he’s just moving you like a ragdoll, push and pull of his slippery tongue.
Just babbling nonsensical syllables.
And he’s gluing his upper lip to your clit, to your folds, to your weepy hole. Everywhere and anywhere that you’ll be feeling the most pleasure, then he’s twirlin’ the pointed tip of his tongue inside like he’s reaching for your g-spot with that.
Like he’s fucking you with his cock. Craving to.
Again and again, it makes you squirm.
Your syrupy goodness starts to drip down his forearm at the sheer pressure, showing him that you’re close. And with each bash of his three fingertip circumferences, Geto grunts. “Lemme help you- let me- ngh, you have to cum, okay? Cum alllll over my tongue.”
“Yes-” Being moved. And soon enough, with a few more vicious thwacks! your mouth hangs open in a silent scream. “S-Sugu, I’m…”
It’s the only thing you’re able to intone at the moment. The only thing that you can even think of - your heavy orgasm. You’re being manhandled, with your hips gyrated onto his face through every burst of pleasure.
Somehow, you start to wonder whether he doesn’t need to breathe.
And he’s the one who doesn’t care about it. Doesn’t even care if he suffocates just as long as his mouth can remain plastered onto your pussy. Eating you out till he’s feeling dizzy.
And you? You’re seeing white, before it’s a kaleidoscope of color because of the tears.
You hiccup, your chin dropping down to your chest to stare at him through comically swirling pupils. Practically heart-eyes at this point. “Ngh, it feels so g-good, Sugu-” Your thighs start to twitch, feeling his orbed piercing spank down on your clit. Your very own tastebuds water at the stinging euphoria, the way he was scraping your innards. “M’so sensitive.”
“Mhm, and you’re not tapping out now,” he’s challenging. Looking up at you through shaggy bangs, Geto grins around your thoroughly puffy folds. “Because my throat is parched after the concert.”
You squeeze, so hard that he can feel his rings pushin’ against your sultry walls. Oh, he won’t be giving up so easily.
And by the time that Geto’s popping himself off of your treacly cunt - with a wet noise, with a few more kisses to your silvery slope, with a final bite on your clit - you’re run rightly ragged. You can barely even speak, occasionally tremoring at the shockwaves still bubbling through your veins.
“P-please—” You’re running your fingers tenderly through his dark locks, pushing them away from his face. And luckily for you, what a sight it was.
Because Geto’s high cheekbones were just cherry red in color from all the blushing and lack of air. From the way he was so pussydrunk on your cunt that it was starting to make him look oh-so-ruined. Eyelids heavy. Lips swollen.
He had a sheen of your slick splashed from his pointed chin, all the way up his cheeks. His jawline. And his lengthy tongue pops out once more to stretch n’ lick up those clingy wads. Making sure you see.
Bit by bit, your mouth grows more agape. “Please, I wan’ your cock now, Sugu…” And you wanted it badly - that glimpse from before was enough to get you all antsy on his seat.
Slowly, sensually, Geto reaches out his fat thumb - the one from his left hand, that wasn’t covered in your shiny juices - and wipes off the slobber trickling from one end of your mouth. Putting it in his own maw, he sucks it up like he sucks up the slick all over his other set of digits.
“Anything you say, my muse.”
He sounded husky, even more so than after the concert.
And you barely even have the time to touch whatever was left of the rest of your clothes - before Geto gently repositions your hands away and onto hold his slim waist. He undresses you himself, as if he was opening up a cute lil’ present.
Then he’s patting a thumb down onto the hem of his boxers, where black curls of his happy trail rested. Teasing.
“Don’t tease.” You have half the mind to take them off yourself. Before Geto finally puts you out of your needy misery, and rids himself of those boxers.
And you were right - his bulging dick-print was huge, but the real thing was even more massive.
And hard. Rock-fucking-hard. Geto’s plump, puckered cockhead was a bright red that looked angry, and he was flushed all the way down to his heavy balls. All twitchin’ and tight at the thought of being inside you.
Hell, you swear you could even count the mere throbs of his veins, so far-gone that they seemed to make his decorated cock twitch in midair. But what you were gazing at the most wasn’t all of that - even though it did catch your eye - it was the small, circular piercing that rested underneath the slit of his tip. A Prince Albert’s piercing.
Geto’s feeling the intensity of your stare and and leaks out a wad of buttery precum, a few droplets of it making it down his shaft. He wipes away the rest of it with the front pad of his thumb, and then pushes it between your gawking lips. “Shut that hah, pretty mouth, gorgeous, don’t wanna catch flies.”
You moan at the slightly salty taste, and it only makes your cunt grow even wetter. Only made you lean in even closer without even realizing - and Geto lets it happen.
He lets your pouty mouth slip all the way across his furiously weeping tip, pressing just one wet kiss in hello before a hand at your throat wrenches you away. “Don’t even worry about it, baby—” He uses his chokehold on you to lift you up.
To flip you around and then smack the side of your asscheeks. You were on all fours now, with him pressing his muscular weight into your arched spine.
Geto gutturally groans out in your ear, “Tonight’s—” And you feel something poke at your entrance. You feel something hard. “-allll about you.”
He rests a hand on the side of your hips, attaching, and then uses the force to drag you back into him. All filling up your gooey orifices with his erection, he’s squeezing himself inside like he’s gone feral.
Oh, he’s squeezing himself inside like he’s trying to make you feral.
That flared, mushroomy tip of his pryin’ apart your sticky walls, Geto uses his honed shaft to push n’ push n’ push. Too big to completely bottom out for now, but still making your mind spin with rapid, hard half-thrusts. You whine, “Oh- oh!” Voice reaching a fever point. “Please, a-all the way in, Sugu.”
“Mmm, want it all the way ngh, in, huh?” Doing the exact opposite, Geto then slows. He then stops. His cute, orbed piercing rubbin’ the roof of your cunt frigidly back and forth. Ever-so-slightly. Teasingly.
It’s only once you start huffing and puffing in disappointment that he’s chuckling, thinking that delirious expression was just too adorable on you. And in a low bass, Geto purrs out. “Come and get it now.”
“You’re not seriously–”
“I am, show me how you do it-” His hand on your throat twists your face backwards - all tear-stained and fighting the urge to let your eyes roll to the back of your scalp. The moment he catches sight of your face properly, you feel his blistering hot cock twitch inside you. “-fuck, turn around.”
And he was urging you to fuck your hips back into his. Goading you into it, practically.
Firstly, you start off with a few tentative bounces. Just gyrating your hips, almost shy of his size. “L-like this?”
“Nuh uh, baby.” He’s tutting from behind, other hand scraping down your tummy. He wants to feel himself as he sinks in. “You n’ I both know that you can do muuuch better than that.” And even though he wasn’t moving, his cock seemed to be growing even bigger. Swelling. Elongating.
One of his curly veins rub up near your g-spot and you trill, “But you’re just so…”
“So?”
The most shallow, wet grinds. Not enough to take him entirely, not enough to satiate you. “Big.”
And then you’re blessed - well, more like punished - with a semi-rut, swabbin’ his thickened tip even deeper. You can’t help but squeeze your plush walls around him, expecting more. “Wan’ it that bad?” Swatting your ass, the force is enough that your flesh jiggles and he grins. “Take it, then. M’all yours.”
So you’re raising your ass up even higher, arms wobbling limply in front of you. You use up all the energy left in your shattered body to perk your waist up just a bit, then slam down the rest of Geto’s length. Hitting his hard v-lines. Bottoming-out.
Taking him all the way from the fat, split-ended tip- down, down, dooooown till his hairs tickle your slope.
Geto raises a brow at the way you’re mewling uncontrollably by taking all of him, then his right hand starts to push n’ pull you with the restraint at your neck. “S’it that big? Hah- ya like it thaaaat much, gorgeous?”
“Yes- oh, f-feels so good having you like this.” You moan, every time he was elongating his words, Geto made sure to glide the cold metal of his piercing down your spongy cervix. “Fuck, can barely even ngh! take it.”
And you have the feeling that if he could reach even further than that, then he would in a heartbeat.
“But you are.”
Before you know it, a wet splat! of something strikes your cunt folds. You’re turning your head over your shoulder to find out that it was Geto spitting on your already-dripping pussy, an invisible string of it still connecting his mouth to your entrance.
“Because m’proud of you, my muse.” He drawls out, and he sounds drunk. Geto swerves around the tip of his thumb all over your pussylips, just like he was stirrin’ around his cock by now.
Circle after circle. Prodding into hidden spots you didn’t even realize were there- he then catches the slightly pouty curve of your mouth and coos. “Awww, what’s the matter, baby- fuck.” In response you only clamp down on him, the textured ridges of his shaft so sensational that it leaves your mouth ajar. His lip curls, “Oh, I get it.”
“H-huh?”
Just then he leans over, and it leaves his curvaceous tip poking in even deeper. Melting his sweaty abs on top to the back of your spine, Geto purses his lips and spits. Straight into your mouth, then he smiles all handsomely like he’d just done you a favor.
You look at him with bulging eyes. He’d read your mind.
“Fuck, you’re getting even w-wetter.” He’s sputtering out- fucking up into you. Chasing your pussy. Every hard thrust of his left you shoved forwards a few inches, and Geto’s reeling you back in just so he won’t lose you.
Just so the feeling of your pulsing, velvety walls won’t be lost- soon enough, he’s wrapping his beefy left hand over your neck to hold you in a headlock. “Gonna hafta give me a show- we can do that, ngh, can’t we, gorgeous? Gonna drive me wiiiild w-with that pussy, huh?”
“O-oh my god-” you’re blabbering out. A sparkly sheen of saliva forming down his forearm, trickling from the front of your mouth. “I think you’re doing the- driving wild- oh.”
You could barely even string together the sentences.
Your entire body twitches at the sudden change in angle; with him bent over and leaning his weight into you like this, you felt like you were being crushed in the best ways. Geto’s constant pummeling reaches deep into the back spots of your cervix, leaving a cute lil’ bruise of his circumference.
He kisses the side of your head sloppily- and you’re realizing that Geto had forgotten to take off one of his silver chains. Or maybe he didn’t want to. Because there was just the rhythmic, cold bang-bang-bang of his jewellery that was greeting the back of your neck in time with his furious ruts.
All the way from his hard, globular tip n’ dooooown to where his shaft was the thickest. His drilling pace left your plush insides being all straightened out on his length. His girth.
Just fucking you like an animal.
You can feel your head start to slowly tip forwards, too heavy and filled with cotton. But Geto would never let you get off that easy, “Hey, hey—look at me.” Pulling you back in with his headlock.
Geto’s tone was firm, he meant it.
You struggle to blink your lids open properly, all sticky with the residue of your tears. Yet once you look at him, you can still make out the sultry twinkle in his eyes.
He lifts his right hand up to your bleary line of vision, “You see this?” And you have to take a few seconds to note that he’s talking about that tattoo that slithers across his entire arm - a snake. With its fanged maw wide open where his thumb separated from the rest of his fingers, “Mmm, nice, huh?”
Absent-mindedly, you nod.
That’s when you register what’s happening - the snake. With its mouth wiiiide open, creeps down to your pussy, and he’s cupping your delicate folds. Almost as if to swallow. As if to strike.
Geto’s pounding you into the expensive backseat of his car like he’s devouring you. Pinpointing each n’ every leaking crevice with his buttery precum, letting the mound of his palm slide back and forth down your slit.
You gush out a wet splatter! of syrup straight into his palm and he grins, “Really- oh, ya really are drivin’ me wild, baby. Look into my eyes now.”
He wanted to stare away into your beautiful, stupidly dilated eyes as he mazes his entire length inside you. The forefront of his piercing acting like a searchlight, you can feel the exact moment that Geto smears apart your walls n’ precisely bashes your g-spot.
“S-so unfair that you have a- hck!” You can’t even finish your sentence. You’re choking on so many whines n’ copious amounts of drool that wash down the front of your chin like a fountain.
Geto himself finds it adorable how you’re cockdrunk already. And it almost feels like that night at the party when he leans in, parched tongue licking up your web of drool - why waste it? “I don’t hear her complaining.”
“M-maybe she is-” You insist back stubbornly, just for something to say.
And at that very moment, one of Geto’s long fingers extends so that he can drag them down the dribbling crevice of your pussy. The edge of his middle finger slide-slide-slides between your slit with the loudest, most primal slurp. “Mmm, I don’t think she is. Not when she’s- ngh, singing f’me.”
His words are enough to make your eardrums pop at the filth - but then again, so is the way he was driving his hips into you. Repeatedly, like a train. And so was the way the crowned tip of his ringed fingers start rolling over your clit.
You prattle out, just when he uses his large index to draw a heart on the very tip-top button of your nub. Just the pressure felt too good. “S-sooooo cocky–”
“Damn right n’ you’re full of it- literally.”
Perhaps it was the way he said it - reminding you of the thick, solid inches that were filling you up - or perhaps it was his newly-drawn patterns on your clit, but you’re growing even wetter. Dripping in thick, glittering wads of slick that trickle down Geto’s own legs.
Feeling the sloppy wetness, he’s looking down- and then immediately grinning to himself. He whispers, “Wonder if I can…”
“What are you-”
“Shhh, told you tonight was all about- hah, fuuuuck- you, my muse.”
Oh, you don’t know how well that boded for your poor pussy. Or your walking abilities for at least the next week.
In a mere few nanoseconds, Geto has his hips churning out an interesting angular cadence. Not only was he pumping his red, swollen cock into you- he was also shiftin’ his hips in grinding movements so that the edge of his Prince Albert’s piercing would swab its way ‘round and round.
Sticking his glazed tip into each spot, the icy circle of his piercing was just driving you wild. Making your toes curl and your feet anchor- almost in an effort to run–
“Ah ah-” Only for him to pull you back in with his constraining headlock, flexing so that his sexy biceps are squeezing your neck even tighter. “We’re getting- ngh, doooown and dirty, girl. Don’t run.” Then he’s repeating the scrape-scrape of his decorated crown down your walls, red n’ rude.
“F-fuck, could you feel that, gorgeous?” Geto’s voice breaks at some point, after a particularly drawn-out drag of his rovering tip. And he has the audacity to giggle, “That one was a heart.”
Your eyes snap open, mouth plummeting out a low- “Oh, fuck.”
Because Geto wasn’t just fucking you with his pierced cockhead anymore; he was using that orb at the beginning of his slit to draw on you. Right at the very end of your sponged cervix, in ravenous strokes, he was buttering you up. Painting you.
Next, he glissades a swooping motion that makes his veins push up against your roof. Uttering a low hiss, “Mmm- my- hah, my name’s a bit harder…”
“L-let me help.”
And that makes Geto’s heart skip a beat.
He slides his hand up n’ down your slit, prodding at your clit lovingly. “O-of course, my muse.” Letting you push backwards in a figure-eight, until his dark happy trail was rubbing your ass cheeks raw. “Harder-” A vulgar spank to your ass. “Harder. Show me how you can d-do it.”
“M’going- ngh, fuck. Wan’ more, Suguru.”
Anything you say. Anything you do- fuck, he almost thinks he could cum right here, right now. That’s why he’s instead focusing his attention on manhandling your body back in ruts, to hit his massive girth with such rough recoil.
Again. And again. And again and again—
Until you’re feeling his pulsing mushroom tip glue up against your womb, carving along a whalloping bruise. And you swear - with whatever frenzied brain cells were left within your skull - it formulates the zig-zagging motion of an ‘S’
“And thaaaaat was my n-name.”
Maybe he got lucky. Maybe he was just that good.
Sobbing, “F-fuck!” You don’t get to find out whether he’s able to finish off the rest of his name - whether that was even possible - because immediately you’re bucking back n’ forth. “Oh my god- i-it’s almost- ngh, too much.” That lecherous action sending sparks of pleasure to your brain. Having him try n’ claim the very back spots of your pussy. Those hidden crevices.
“Easy, eeeeasy there, baby. What did I say—don’t run.” Pulling you back with his headlock, “Don’t make me- ngh, choke you like that- gorgeous-” Even though he already was.
You’re getting easily dumbified as he repeats those movements a few more times. Needily moving faster to chase those sparks he’d erupted before, “Please- please want it- ngh, close-”
“Nice try.” Body so weak that he was the one predominantly in control now. He’s matching your pace- surpassing it, all with a thumb that tweaks your clit until you see white. That snake. Maw ajar. “But you’re the one that’s gonna, mmm, cum first.”
You whine. Geto was just so mean- was he always this mean? Because he surely was fucking you like it; now three different points of pleasure. From your throbbing clit, to your g-spot being massaged by his decorative veins, then that lewd lil’ pattern he drew at the back of your cervix. So much. Too much.
You’re so close that you’re slobbering out in waves at this point, and he has his mouth slipped to the side to lick up any n’ every sap you were leaking.
Pierced tongue slimily slithering allll the way down the side of your lips, you mewl. So filthy. “Fuck- y-you’re right-” His blushing red tip twitches at those words. “M’gonna- gonna…”
You can’t even finish your sentence.
With a few more sinful strokes, you’re falling apart on his creamy cock. Letting the heatwave of your high take over you- you throw your head back, resting upon Geto’s collarbone, toes curled, mouth shrilling out his name.
After each and every sloppy drag of his vein-covered cock, he was fucking you through your high so perfectly. The frigid tip of his piercing pushin’ into your g-spot, that makes you last even longer.
Even more.
And Geto himself was just as drunk on your pussy- “F-fuck, m’gonna cum.” He moans, tonality hollow in a way that made him sound so wrecked. Just then, you’re feeling something warm and gooey fill up the nooks and crannies of your cunt.
Webbing you up from the inside. It sticks to you like a second skin and he’s overfilling you to the point where you can feel a sheen of white drip down the insides of your thighs. Gluing them together. “Shit- don’t even have enough, ngh, space.”
“Oh, you will.” Through labored pants, Geto looks down where you were taking him - and he doesn’t think he’s seen a more heavenly sight. With your damp folds glazed in ivory, glistening after each pump of his hips. It’s forming a ring around his bulky base, soaking his happy trail.
He smears the droplets of cum that are part of the spillage, layering them onto the padded top of his thumb. Then, immediately, you gasp as you feel the stretch of him pushing those knots back inside. “Listen to that-” The loudest wet noises. “Wonder if I’ll be able to hah- sing as good as that at my next concert, hm?”
“Shut up.”
Geto doesn’t stop just yet.
Not until his ravaged, red cock feels raw—oversensitive. Not until he’s properly fucked you through the hazy peaks of your high and you’re left merely trembling. Not until he’s squirted every ounce of pure white cum inside you, n’ you can’t do anything but perk your hips up from the seat and take it. Take it.
He has tears in his eyes by now. The rockstar pulls back his hand from your clit after you start wriggling with overstimulation.
And then makes sure you watch - make sure you can see his looooong, pink tongue slither out to suck up every sullied dewdrop of slick and cum from his digits. From his rings. Lastly, he slaps his cleaned, moisturized fingers against your ass. Groping.
“I could write albums about that, gorgeous.” You still haven’t gained the ability to speak since being completely dumbified.
And Geto sets you free from that headlock, finally. You’re dropping to the plushness of his car seat like you’re boneless, barely even able to look up as he seethes. Through labored pants, he smiles, “So…still wanna go back to my house so we can meddle about?”
Not even pulling out of you yet.
He throbs from the inside. Plump n’ probing. Awaiting your answer- you start to wonder whether he’ll be able to write out the entirety of his name on your cervix.
“Fuck yeah.”
.
.
.
It was no surprise that Meddle About topped the charts. All of them.
Someone had recorded it back at its debut concert, to which it had gone viral overnight. Then came the record deals, the studio sessions, and the official album launch (of which Geto claimed that all those love songs were about you.)
And it was also no surprise that that was what launched the Sorcerers from being a regionally famous band, frequenting the local bars and gigs, to being internationally-known. To touring all ‘round the world.
But what did come as a slight surprise - a pleasant one - was when he’d asked you to join him.
Somehow, some part of you had imagined that once Geto got a taste of the high life, the fame, the music, the travel; that meant he’d simply indulge in it. Without you. Without even a thought of you - little did you know that you were all Geto Suguru could think about.
Seriously. It did endearingly irritate his bandmates.
So when Geto asked you to join him, after some arrangements with your life back at home, you’d said yes. Of course.
And then there was another surprise. At the very first concert that you’d attended with him- and then for each one thereafter (it grew to be a little tradition, you see) there was this…
“And tonight- I have someone very special in the crowd for me- yes, Satoru, she’s here for me, not for you.” The crowd buzzes, peering over each other’s heads for a glimpse of another collaboration act, perhaps. Some even waited for one of the band members to stage dive.
But what happens is that Geto Suguru - rockstar, worldwide heartthrob, lead guitarist of the Sorcerers - smiles. A slow, soft smile that they don’t think they’ve ever seen on him before, not this sort.
And he’s pointing somewhere to the VIP seats, the closest ones at the very front row. Where there was you; you could feel the stares now. The whispers. The phones recording. Surely, this was about to end up on just about ten different social medias- just when you had gotten used to the campus teasing. This was about tens of thousands of more eyes. Honestly, having a rockstar boyfriend was not for the weak.
But he did make it so easy. So, so easy.
Geto continues on, a gentle chuckle leaving his mouth at the way you squirm under the spotlight. He says your name, “My muse, my lover. I love you. This one’s for you, just as they all are.”
There’s a tumultuous wave of ‘aww’s’ that ring out, and screams, perhaps a few faints.
“streamer! satoru x streamer! yn collab!! please !!" 𓆩♡𓆪
"chat, what the hell are you talking about? rottenyn?" satoru murmured, reading what his chat was sending him as he was streaming his screen, playing penguin heist on steam. he was asking his chat of around 20k viewers to potentially give him ideas on what to play next. rivals? valorant? even league maybe.
streamer! satoru a.k.a. sixeyesatoru was currently the top streamer on kick and twitch, and of course, he hung around his posse of streamer friends like nanaken and cursedsuguru to name a few. he wasn't aware of some "rando" like rottenyn? who the hell was that?
"chat said search her up." suguru snickered, leaning over to hit his vape to which he got smacked in the arm by streamer! satoru—the twitch partner. "chat also said she's been talking about you. ouuuu satoru. i've heard of her, she's chill."
streamer! satoru had his fair share of internet flings and crushes (obviously, it was a joke in his community regarding his type being h/c hair and e/c eyes), but he didn't know what to expect when he searched you up on twitter and instagram.
and no wonder why his chat was going insane with spamming your user... you were exactly his dream girl.
streamer! yn, who streamed herself doing popmart unboxings, occasional commentary on internet stuff and gameplay of the same games he did. she was a rising streamer who had gotten viral on tiktok and instagram. streamer! yn who was exactly his type and was on twitter, clipped saying that streamer! satoru was exactly her type.
"ijbol satoru just malfunctioned. chat shut up." he ended up following her on insta, tiktok, and twitter after the stream and got followed back minutes later—much to the amusement of his fans and yours too.
streamer! satoru, who's been secretly stalking your socials and talking about you to suguru and kento. how you're totally his type and is so talented in valorant and how you're so cool.
"didn't you think she was a rando when chat told you about her?"
"shut up suguru."
streamer! satoru, who got invited to one of streamer!sukuna's multi-streamer collabs and didn't expect for streamer! yn to be there, talking to suguru on one of the couches.
"hey satoru, we were just talking about you!" suguru smiled, standing up and leaving both of you alone. he turned to you, anxiously. you shot him a smile and you looked so cute and you smelled so nice and—was that the sweatshirt you were talking about in a stream of yours?
"i really like your streams! you actually inspired me to start streaming and i'm really happy i'm getting to talk to you!"
streamer! satoru basically internally combusted. he felt as if he would explode right now. "o-oh wow! i'm honored..."
"wanna collab sometime?" - "wanna go out sometime?"
you both blinked at each other, with your face burning and his twisting into a look of horror, all the while, the other streamers like ryokuna, nanaken, and tojilifts were just observing the unfortunately awkward situation you two were in.
"sure!"
"i am so sorry!"
the both of you could only hope that your blushing and awkward face didn't get clipped for the timeline later... but of course it did.
-
-
-
i wanna write more streamer gojo like actually even tho i don't really watch streamers (except vanilla bc its vanilla and i have the fattest crush on her) but yayayaya
going to a party with ryomen sukuna was akin to showing up to the battlefield with a known inhibition.
because sukuna made it his utmost job to make things difficult for you, for no reason.
you’d always been the shy type, parties were already out of your comfort zone and for that to be hindered by various public displays of affection did you no good. however sukuna loved to show you off and lay claim to who was his.
you’d been avoiding his kisses for a bit, whenever sukuna would lean in you’d just turn your face so he kissed your cheek instead.
sukuna knew what you were doing, he understood your game, in that tiny backless dress playing oh so hard to get.
you enjoyed teasing him and despite his frustration he loved to play along.
so when you feel sukuna sliding behind you with a hand on your waist and his breath inching closer to your backless dress, you’re quick to swat him off.
“no biting, kuna” you narrow your eyes at him over your shoulder, your earring glistening and the curve of your back all the more pronounced for your man.
his bared teeth pause in motion as he takes a moment to collect himself and fight off his incoming frown.
nostrils flaring and with a tight jaw sukuna backs off for a bit, waiting, biding his time to catch you off guard when you least expect it.
later on, you’re sitting at the long table with its table cloth hanging off the side when sukuna joins you again.
you’d been munching on a small pastry listening to your friends talk about various topics and when he sits down you offer him your pastry as truce.
flicking your gaze up you see a dark expression cross your boyfriends face before he leans in and instead of taking the pastry in his own hand eats it from yours. at the exact same spot you’d bitten it.
you swallow, hard and lightly squeak when you feel his warm hand press onto the side of your thigh.
sliding up and up to your hip and rubbing there.
your weakness.
sensitive thighs.
and he knows it..
your smaller hand rests atop of his as you glance back and forth between his neutral expression and his wandering hands.
“please” you breathe out, you didn’t know why but your thighs had always been your weak spot, and it wasn’t long before your boyfriend figured it out.
often times he’d watch you squirm beneath him with heat pooling down your legs.
now it was no different except that you were in public.
“please what?” sukuna whispered near your ear a grin overtaking his features.
your eyes fluttered, feeling sukuna’s thumb rub circles over your hips and then lower on the side of your thigh.
extremely flustered, you pushed your legs beginning to stand up only for sukuna’s grip to tighten engulfing your entire thigh with one hand and clamping you down back into place.
“someone will see us” you breathed out, trying to keep an even edge to your shaky voice.
satisfied with your reaction, sukuna gives a quick pat to your thigh and stands up before walking away in a matter of seconds.
✮⋆˙ satoru cums in you for the first time in front of the city view MDNI
On Friday nights, people either go out partying or stay home and chill, doing what they enjoy. That’s something you liked to do, but that all changed when you ended up in a relationship.
You and Gojo have been on a movie marathon since 5PM, and it’s well past midnight now. Let’s just say the Netflix ‘Are you still watching?’ question has been on your TV screen for the past three hours.
Currently, you were getting fucked so hard, bent before the vast glass window overlooking a city alive with lights. Although your attention wasn’t on anything outside, it was on your boyfriend's girthy dick plunging in and out of your gummy walls.
It was Gojo’s idea to fuck you in front of the window. His words were: “I want everyone to see my pretty girl and how she takes this dick.”, and without a second thought, you agreed.
Your back was against his chest, both hands on the now foggy window. Meanwhile, Gojo couldn’t get enough of you—his hands roaming all over your body. Gripping your waist, while the other moved up toward your tits, giving them a harsh squeeze, which had you whimpering in return.
“Taking this dick so well, you’re so fucking perfect. God, I love you.” He rambled on completely out of his mind. His praises made you look up at him, your head resting on his shoulder.
His eyes were half-lidded, staring directly into your soul. The kind of look that always had your stomach tingling and the wetness between your thighs growing more.
“Please, please. Don’t stop,” you whined, pushing your hips back into him. The tip of his dick kissing your cervix.
Gojo’s eyes rolled back into his skull, his plump lips parted—panting so hard, it sounded as if he just ran a 20-mile marathon. “Ngh- baby, if you do that, I might actually cum inside you.”
You turn your attention back to the city, and then an idea of something completely new to you pops inside your fucked out brain. “Cum inside me, in front of the—Fuck just like that—city.”
After being together for nearly a year, he still hasn’t been able to cum inside you. You both just didn’t want to risk having a kid, but how hot he was looking and the feeling of his thrusts against you had you not caring about anything.
He quickly snapped his eyes open; his hips fluttered for half a second as an eyebrow raised. “You… are you sure?”
“Please.” You nodded immediately, licking your lips. “I need it.”
With that, his dick twitched inside you. One of his hands moved to the back of your spine, bending you down into a biggg arch. Your legs wobbled beneath your weight; the left side of your face squished against the cold windowpane.
He bit his lip at the sight of you, both hands now gripping your waist as his pace began to fuck you harder and faster. You cried out, nails digging into the window. Probably leaving scratches- not like you both cared anyway.
“Yeah? You want my cum inside you?” His gaze dropped down, watching his cock slide in and out of you, then glancing back up. “My needy girl wants my cum dripping from her pussy, huh?”
“Mhm!” You couldn’t mutter a single word. You were starting to feel so overstimulated with how full you felt, plus you both have been fucking like rabbits—without taking a single break.
He leaned over, his chest against your back. He sank his teeth into your neck, leaving yet another mark on your delicate skin. His eyes didn't look away from your face.
You turned your head as far as you could, your lips puckering in a silent invitation for him to kiss you. He met your lips right away; it was a sweet kiss you both shared over the years.
He bit your lip hard enough to draw the slightest amount of blood. You moaned against his lip, your lips parting. He slid his tongue inside your mouth instantly; the feeling made your head dizzy.
It’s surprising to this day how good he can kiss. Even though you were his first girlfriend, his first kiss. First everything in general, but honestly you loved every bit of it.
And as time went on, the kiss became deeper. Tongues fighting for dominance, with each of you refusing to give in. Gojo’s hand traveled up to your neck, his large palm settling against your skin before his fingers squeezed firmly.
He pulled away from the kiss, just enough to speak. Both of your breaths were mixing together as you looked into each other’s eyes.
His eyebrows furrowed up, and you could tell he was trying his hardest not to roll his eyes back into his skull again. You also know he was so close to cumming.
“You gonna cum, baby?” Your voice was in that sweet tone that had him whimpering in response. You lifted your hand from the cool window, moving your arm behind you until your fingers disappeared into his messy white hair.
His thrust grew sloppier with each move, his thighs hitting the back of your ass. Gojo moved his hand down your body, feeling you up before landing between your thighs. His middle finger rubbed against your clit, fast.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes I’m gonna cum.” He grunted, throwing his head back, eyes closing tightly, mouth gapped open. The grip on your waist tightened enough for his knuckles to turn white.
His throat bobbing, hips meeting your ass as his cum spilled all over your walls. Painting your insides white. The new sensation of being filled to the brim made your own release wash over you. Your legs became weak as tears began to form in the corner of your eyes.
“Fuck!” You cried out, slamming your hand back onto the window. The contact made a big bang, which, surprisingly, none of you noticed.
Your mind was absolutely scrambled, lost in the orgasm he just gave you. Probably the best one you've experienced together, and if it wasn’t for his arms holding you up, you would’ve fallen to the ground.
He held you close to his chest, panting into your ear. Overcoming his own release. Then he slowly pulled out of your pussy, watching as his dick fell out. “holy shit.”
You turned your head to face him. “Hm?”
He leaned down, cracking a hand over your plush cheek. You whine out at the contact, but he doesn’t take any of notice of it, his attention stuck on him spreading your ass cheeks apart and watching as his cum drip out of you, “This is the hottest shit I’ve ever seen.”
“Stop! You’re gonna get it on the carpet.” You complained, slapping his shoulder. He shook his head, chuckling—not long before running his finger between your slit, gathering up every drop of the white liquid that slipped out of you.
He stood up to his full height, moving his finger to your lips. “Open.”
You locked eyes with him, slowly opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. With that, he stuck his finger into your mouth. Immediately, you sucked on it, whining at the taste.
His dick got hard right away. He pulled his fingers out, leaning down, meeting your lips in another harsh kiss. The taste of both of you lingering on his tongue drew a low groan from him against your lips before he slowly pulled away.
”Just letting y'know, i'm cumming inside you all the time now.”
sorry if this is ass, i have no clue what i’m doing 😣.
synopsis: For as long as you’ve dated Toji Fushiguro, you’ve come to realize how much of a massive perv he is…
tags:perv!toji fushiguro x fem!shy!reader,smut, fingering, slightly tit/nipple play, squirting, groping, slight dub con but like not really idk
a/n:mmmmm tojiiii🤤🤤also! my requests are open! So start sending them in! If I find them interesting I’ll do it!!
You were peacefully lying in bed watching something on the TV. You were all comfy, finished showering about an hour ago, smelling like your signature scent. You were allllll snuggled up…until the other side of the bed started to dip and lean over. A mass creating a strong sigh. “hey princess.” Toji. His hand snakes over your hips, his curling perfectly into you hip bone. “All comfy?”
You love him you do! But Toji is always on a different level compared to other stereotypical boyfriends. His hand never remained at his sides. Ass,tits,hips anything, nothing is safe. He did it front of his friends, his family, your family. If you were there, bet your ass his hand was somewhere where it shouldn’t. Giving it a good squish or squeeze.
You’ve tried to keep him in control. Wearing more layered clothes and less revealing clothes, stopped bending over in front of him. The works basically but nothing would work. I guess you took it as a plus. He thinks everything you do no matter what state you’re in, is extremely sexy and hot to him.
Your underwear would even go missing for days or shirts you’ve worked out in would disappear from the dirty clothes basket. And or, they reappear all sticky or crusty. You knew who the culprit was, not like he cared enough to even care.
“Yes Toji, let’s keep it that way.” You grumbled the last part. His hips shifted against your ass, his big hands—almost the size of your head slowly slide down to your waistband of your shorts. His fingers lightly treading against your cunt. You whimpered as you gripped his wrist. The movie went on without you both. “Toji…please..”
His other hand glided towards your breast. Cupping below the hilt. His fingers lightly grazing your nipple. Your mouth began to dry up, and whimpers being clogged up into your throat. “What? Can’t love my girl anymore?”
“N-no, Toji you’re g-mhm! groping me!” You whined out. His fingers near your pussy dipped even lower beyond your shorts, his finger tips tickling your clit. You yelped out and threw your head back against his shoulder. His grin was wide, the scar on his lip curving with it. “There’s my sweet girl, yea?” You let out a grunt as your legs uncontrollably curled outward.
His hands cupping your tits flicked your left nipple, causing even more overstimulation. Your body jolted and squirmed as his fingers mingled with your clit his middle finger sssliidddinngg down to the entrance of your pussy. “ngh!Toji please!”
“Please what? I don’t get it?” Toji mocks your lonely plea.
“I want you to—fuck! I want you to finger me!” You yelped out loud. Toji chuckled deeply, you feel the baritone and the vibration in his chest. His finger snaked into your entrance. Slowly swirling around your gummy and sticky walls. You kissed his neck as you moaned into his mouth. The scar on his lips grazed yours as your hands traced his abs. “You’re such a perv you know that right?” You told him. Toji’s hand on your tits grasped your tit harsh. “Me? You’re the one screaming and crying on my fingers. You know how you get when you hop on this dick—”
You slapped his chest teasingly but, making your boyfriend speed up his finger menstruations. Your moans became harsher and longer. Your head thrown back even further in his shoulder. “I-I oh fuck! Gonna cum! G-gonna cum?!” You screamed out. Your body was warmer than ever, tears threatening to roll down your face. “You wanna cum baby? After calling me a perv? I think you owe me something, hm?”
With your orgasm creeping close within your body, your tummy churning in the right possible places. You sallowed your pride and—
“I’m—ugh! Sorry!!” You screamed
Toji’s hands moved faster as you cried out and gripped his biceps. Clear liquid squirted out your hole with your mouth let out the most intense breath and screams. “Good girl, that’s it.” Toji coos at you. After the waves of your orgasm stopped crashing into your soul, his fingers slid out of you. You laid against his shoulder, legs slightly twitching. “You ass. I just showered…fuck…”
“You’ll live princess.” Toji says as he sucks on his squirt and cream covered hand.
Synopsis. When he’s gonna hit it, he’s gonna hit it till your mind breaks.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, dúmbifícation, running from it, cervíx kíssing, matíng presses, PÚSSYDRÚNK JJK MEN, bréeding, GOJO’S POWERS, mentions of kíds, p talking, headIocks, true form Sukuna, dp, spítting, cúmplay, MEAN Geto, breaking the béd, p spánking, marathons, proposals, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. PHEW hoping you have the loveliest week <3
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 3 min. 12 secs
“Tch- where the hell do ya think you’re runnin’ off to, doll?”
Toji’s trapping both your droopy ankles with one dextrous set of his thick fingers, dragging you about halfway down the king-sized mattress in an instant. He’s oh-so-greedily pinning them over the curvaceous dip of his deltoids with a mean, sweat-slicked palm, “Don’t tell me yer hah- tapping out after only three minutes?”
Punctuating his filthy push and pull with a few syrupy thwack! thwack! thwacks! of his strawberry-pink tip down your sappy slit. He’s leaving generous wiry ribbons of pre that smudge and smear a pretty lipgloss as you clench.
“N-nooo m’not–” You’re shaking your dizzy head as urgently as you could, huffing at the utter teasing in Toji’s sleazy, dimpled smirk. “I’m just…”
But what could you even say at this point?
“Oh?” Toji’s letting his dark brows scrunch at your hypnotized silence, the way your gaze was practically plastered with little heart-eyes and- Oh. Oh. He can’t help but loosen a breathy snicker as the realization hits. “Already?”
Yes, already.
Because Toji Fushiguro never held back - he never ever hid that his exact goal in these lecherous sheets was to fuck you until you saw stars.
Always ruthless whenever he’s kissing your spongy cervix with such copious French kisses of his fat, rotund head. Always swollen so thick, with probing little veins sprinting against every one of your tender spots.
The stretch so maddening that it left a translucent trail of dribble spilling from the corners of your mouth. Puddling out with every pressurized pound to swirl wet splotches all over that magical spot until you were sure it was bruised and battered.
Until you were sure you couldn’t even formulate the thought process let alone the words to vocalize that he’d utterly fucked you stupid in all but three minutes.
“Heh- shiiiit-” You’re blinking away the glazed film of lust that’d taken over your eyes, just in time to catch the way that Toji peeks his willowy eyes down below. Letting out the sexiest low whistle at the mess he’s making, “Think s’ a new record. Now, where’d my ngh- mouthy girl go, huh?”
Roughened circles of his digits dig into your legs, tightening and tightening when - with a ragged grunt - Toji bends. He hunches his bulky body until you’re compressed in half, washboard abs melting into your front, your heels imprinting into his back - into the dirtiest mating press. Gruffing, “Have ya seen her?”
And you swear you catch the way that Toji’s fattened tip only stretched tautly wider, swabbing around your sloppy hole in a teasing circle. He’s buttering you up with numerous lecherous slurps until you were dripping.
But he was so slow - so taunting. Sharp malachite eyes dazzling with sheer amusement when you’re raking frustrated red, red lines down his muscular back. Mumbling tearily, I-If you’re not gonna hngh- fuck me properly already then–”
“Mhm- ya really are fucked dumb already.”
Hah, as if he already needed to confirm.
Because of course he was waiting for just this exact moment.
Flooding your honeyed lips with the prettiest broken whines when he’s plugging you mind-splittingly full. Rasping out a low fuck! at the gummy resistance, Toji’s vice-like restraint on your legs grow even sounder as he all but hauls you down every snug inch of his cock.
So solidly and completely spearheading his upright curve into your molten walls, it’s like you were scorching all around him. Sucking him up for more more more-
“Heh, do ya even r-realize how much you’re ngh- milkin’ me?” He’s cooing, pumping you with grinding ram after ram that has your clit massaging against Toji’s tufted black happy trail. Scratching. Filthily.
“T-Toji—” And it’s the only thing you can say - the only thing replaying in your mind again and again and- Your maw slacks so scandalously open when his gluttonous fat head sugarcoats your g-spot in a melty mess of precum. Sloshing and sheathing your rummaged insides in a sticky second layer. “There- more- more please- m-more-”
You didn’t even have to ask.
Because Toji’s second-ever weakness was having you completely cockdrunk and stupid on his swollen length - his first being, well, you in all your entirety - and his third? Making you even stupider.
Breath hitching, he’s angling his toned hips just right to brush up recoiling pecks on your precious spots exactly the way you like it. Making the splintering bedframe creak and whine almost as much as you.
Eyes lounging lazily to the back of your head, your tongue lolls out with every dredge of creamy pre making it’s home near your g-spot. “Ngh- yeah- m-m…” Couldn’t even speak.
With a hoarse belt of chuckles, Toji’s free hand pokes your fuzzily cotton-filled head. “Oiiii- d’ya even hngh- have anythin’ else in yer cockdrunk mind? Ya always get so ah- greedy when yer like this, hm?” Those very same fingerpads hovering over your buttony clit, he’s giving you a sudden pinch. “Especially…her.”
Oh, that did it - just as Toji knew it would.
Because you’re giving such a gluey squeeze of your adhesive-like walls around Toji’s throbbing shaft - making his chest stutter with a condensed heave, mouth lathering in a fresh batch of saliva that coats his sinful scar, and his brain short-circuiting just enough to feel the way you cum.
And not just any old orgasm - Toji’s spitting out a sharp few slews of profanity when he feels his hefty base soak in shiny, vicious waves of your slick. Blinking his dazed eyes down at his glistening abs - his pecs - to titter at how drenched he was.
How you’d squirted until his weepy cock was dripping with every ounce of sopping wet juices. That blankly loving filter in your stare that made him wonder if you even realized how hard you’d squirted - or whether you realized that you did at all.
You looked so tempting that he really, really can’t help but drag a thick thumb around your saturated pussy lips, drawing little hearts round and round where you were still bulging with all his bloated inches.
“Awwww– already?” Toji’s hips were still so mean, panted out through each scouring jackhammer of his cock. He’s drenching little puddles on his digit, slipping it into his mouth with a greedy pop! And- shit, maybe he’s the one fucked stupid now. “How sweet. S-sooo generous this pretty pussy is.”
Because in a split-second he’s coiled two big, beefy arms around your waist. Biceps digging into your mounds of flesh, silky sheets hot against his back as he manhandles you to pliantly flip over however he wanted.
Ruddied cock still buried deep into your goopy depths. So easy. So filthy. “Don’t think we’re gonna be hah- done for a long, long time, doll.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - 7 min. 4 secs
“My love.” Nanami’s engulfing hand oh-so-sweetly cradles one side of your pretty face as you ride him senseless. Running his fat thumb down the tear-slicked rim of your lips. He’s warm, soft - the complete opposite of that chilling wedding band of his against your scorching flesh. “My love- a-are you alright?”
“Mhm— M’doin’ juuuust fine.” you’re barely able to mumble out, head lolling behind you as he thwacks his plump tip once more against your gummy cervix. Twice more. Thrice. “Ngh- easy, baby, the k-kids are sleeping.”
But your dear husband can sense that something is off. Something is…different.
Maybe in the way that you’re looking up at him with bigger and bigger heart eyes after every rolling jackhammer, maybe in the way you’re practically plastered against his hulking body. Soft tits glissading up and down up and down the sweat-slicked plane of his wide, cushiony pecs. So drunken. So pliant. And he can’t help but plant a soppy smack! against the hooded of your puffy clit with one free hand.
“Oh!” Your back curls into such a slutty arch - such a heavenly sight that makes him wish he had a photographic memory - squirmy hips bucking down harder and- “H-harder- Kentooo- wan’ some more–”
Oh?
And Nanami’s feeling his thickened head splurge your gooey insides with creamy wads upon wads of glossy pre at the mere thought - just the simple idea of you fucking yourself dumb while riding him.
He could probably cum just from watching you like this.
Breath hitching choppily, he’s grabbing your throat - dragging you like some ragdoll until you were only mere condensed inches away from him. You couldn’t be…could you?
“Ken—” Your spit-slicked bottom lip juts out, weighty shuffling forward to press a pretty peck against that shallow dimple on the corner of his lip. Oh, you’d meant for it to land on his lips…but. “Awww, I missed.”
Oh.
But of course he can’t leave his dear wife hanging - especially not when you’re all fucking yourself stupid on him like this.
He’s gifting you with an utterly dizzying kiss - making your tummy so melty with butterflies even after all these years. And you can’t help but keen-
“D-darlin’-” Nanami almost feels like he’s the utterly speechless one now, curling a singular hand around your waist to help your stumbling hips use his cock steadier. Deepening the angle to pound battered hit after hit against your tenderized favorite spots. Those manicured nails of his leave pretty crescent marks all over your fleshy skin when his uprightly curved cock thwacks! upwards. Feral. “Do you- ngh- know how b-beautiful you look right now?”
“Huh?” It’s so adorable how you’re stealing a few sloppy gyrations first before even registering what he’s asking. Cockdrunk and wordless that he’s coaxing out your answer with a sodden thumb smearing your waterfalling drool. “N-no?”
And without a second’s warning - without even a single speck of hesitation - the hand around your tender throat turns vice-like. Shackling. Cutting off both your airway and your heavenly view of a sexily prespired, half-lidded Nanami - turning that bleary gaze of yours towards the specially-installed mirror by your bed.
Head craning to the side to catch how fucking ruined you looked right now, hips moving out of control. Cunt just bawling with a syrupy slick mess pooling underneath you two with every shuddering spearhead of his cock.
“See? Just see h-how ngh- pretty my wife is.” Nanami’s rasping out, utterly wrecking your insides despite his sweet, sweet words. Branding circular divots of his head right into the very resiny bottom of your cervix. His lightning bolted veins just thump cheekily against your g-spot. “Always so pretty- could cum j-jus’ from seeing your ah- gorgeous face ‘nyways b-but…” Fuck- if you were in any better state of mind you’d have caught the way his stoic ears burn red. “...especially when you’re dumb like this.”
“Kento-” You’re crying out, mussing a hand through his dampened strands of blond. Tugging. Pulling to make him hiss. “C-cum inside me. Please. Wan’ it all i-inside- want you to make me pregn-”
“A-another?”
“Another.”
Fuck.
You were making him lose it.
So rudely swatting your hands away to pin them behind your back with only one of his - metallic wristwatch cold against your heated skin. He’s curling your back into a simpering inflection before hammering you with the almost-inhuman thick curvature of his cock, splotching out a wet few wisps of creamy white-
“Not yet- not yet-” Nanami’s muttering, and in your stupidly fucked state you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or himself. “Can’t- can’t ngh- yet-”
Rapturing it like a mantra over and over while blotting your g-spot with sloppy, dirty remnants of precum. Sloshing and glazing his bulky base and all the way down to his tight, thwacking balls. Making such a mess that only leaves you whining incoherently, jolting as if spiked by a sudden million volts of bliss when Nanami’s scooping up the sugary gloss and smearing it back into your gaping entrance.
Until you’re curling your toes taut enough that you can barely move, fingers digging into the pale skin of his back, your vision tinging with a sudden flurry of stars as you cum.
“Tha’s it- that’s right–” he’s breathing out, labored and throaty. So fucking grateful for those sound-proofed walls he installed when you had your first. Voice dipping into almost whiny territory as your husband’s babbling everything that your dumbfounded maw can’t, “Ride me- f-fuck- ride me until ya cum. Ruin me until I can…”
And with a sopping pivot of his fat shaft to hit right against the edges of your womb, he’s flooding your melty cunt with copious ribbons upon ribbons of thick seed. Milky. Heavy. Icing your weepy insides in his favorite white.
“M’gonna take c-care of it- take care of ya-” Nanami’s whispering in a hot pant against your ear, breath so strained and heated that it’s sending shivers down your spine. “Got a place hah- alllll safe n’ sound right- here-”
Nanami can only grin at that inflationary little nudge of where he’s feeling his spattering cum seep press gluey little kisses into your glutinous walls. Because yes, you were gorgeous when you’re fucked dumb like this…but you were even more gorgeous when you’re all round and glowing for him. Patting your pretty tummy, just so impatient for his newborn daughter - yes, daughter - already.
He’s batting his loving eyes down at your fatigued figure with so much adoration that it’s practically palpable. Sensitive tip twitching a perking jerk dangerously…Nanami licks his lips. When you look like this, he wants m-
“Kento—”
Your needy whine snaps him out of his pussydrunken hypnosis, smacking a few innocent smooches against the side of your forehead. “Yes, my love?”
“More.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - 4 min. 27 secs
Shit- shit.
You were so fucking cute - so dangerously ruined on Geto’s cock after only a few sloppy slathers of his thickened shaft down your spongy cervix that it was almost dangerous. That the ever-teasing Geto Suguru is finding his smirking mouth fill up with a few sing-songy coos.
“Awwww, always so ngh- mouthy. What happened- you doin’ alright, gorgeous?” he’s breathing out in a hot baritone up against your ear, opaline white canines sinking into your lobe eagerly. “Though- guess she’s hah- talkin’ in yer place now, hm?”
She being your goopy cunt, the way it was resonating out the most sinfully saturated squelches! with every sheathing lamination of Geto’s cock inside your gummy walls. Practically talking - begging for more with every probing jackhammer of his angry, ample tip.
And with your teary gaze tiredly panned over your shoulder, you can make out the way that Geto was nodding. Dewy eyes scrunched shut like he was in deep thought, pretty lips moving to speak absolute filth. “Mhm– you’re heh- right. That would feel b-better, huh?”
Conversing - but not to you.
And within one frowzy bat of your lashes, Geto drags up one of his thick, muscular legs. Years upon years of flexibility in battle being taken advantage of when he’s planting a foot down on your dizzy head and pinning you there.
“Ngh! Sugu—” you can only whine, struggling and soaking yourself with the deepening change in angle.
He’s only tutting at your sappy cunt, “I know- such a nasty girl, huh? So fuckin’- loud- too.”
Loud. So loud - and you weren’t even trying to be. Streamy rivulets of your glossed slick slurp out with every thudding thwack! of Geto’s sweltering hot tip drilling its way inside your elastic depths. He was so burning hot - feverish.
Shoulders slumping, head bowing at just how lecherously you were sucking up every. Single. Blow he gave. And he can already feel the languid trickle of drool spattering at at the corners of his lips, “So cute- sooo cute- but the- ngh- the whole fuckin’ association’s gonna hear ya, y’know~”
Before you know it you’re being engulfed with one of Geto’s massive palms - cold, slender, reaching over to muffle the utterly scandalous noises spilling uncontrollably from your sagging mouth.
“Not you, though-” he’s tittering, eyes locked down on the way all those weighty inches of his were disappearing and dabbing its way into your needy cunt. “You—” Leaving a particularly wet drag down your mushy insides, “Can ngh- talk allll you like- hah, because you didn’t get fucked stupid after only f-four minutes.”
“Ugh! So mean S-Sugu—” you’re sobbing out when his puffy head sponges against your poor g-spot for the nth time this night. Throbbing veins massaging your walls until you were sure your own heartbeat was syncing up with that staggering cadence. Nails raking down his strong forearm, “M-more–”
“What was that—?” He’s leering his head as close as possible, making your mouth lacquer with a greedy volume of saliva at the way his shoulders flex. Overflowing down his palm. “Heh- making such a m-mess, filthy girl. If ya want something, say it l-louder.”
Oh, by now you’re not just dumbstruck by his relentless pace - but also by how pretty Geto looks. With his long, inky hair freefalling in a soft curtain that tickles your curvaceous spine, half-lidded eyes unfocused and mean, cheeks flushed an innocent pink that matches his weepy tip.
And it’s just about all your melty mind can manage to hiccup out, “More.”
“Awww how cute- s’that all you can s-say?” He’s chuckling in a delirious little tone from above you, free hand nuzzling against your pulsing clit softly. Teasingly. Fully enjoying how you’re struggling against his hold to let out just a few more pretty noises. “Tell me.”
You’re nodding - nodding and nodding so hard that Geto snickers.
But, well, who ever said that Geto Suguru was a merciless man?
“Fine- I’ll let ya have yer little fun.” He’s rasping out with a hoarse sort of shudder at the very thought that makes him whimper. But- shit, was he glad that you’re too stupidly ruined on his achy cock to notice. Too drunkenly ecstatic when he’s suddenly setting free your wobbly mouth, “If you can first hah- speak a proper s-sentence while takin’ my fuckin’ cock- how about it?”
“I-I- ngh!”
But, shit, Geto wasn’t making it easy for you - the weight of his herculean body being pressurized into his foot even harder. He’s driving his hips into you so rocky that you’re sure you spot a few purplish bruises on his sultry hip bones.
“Heheh-” Ah, he’s having so much fun leaving you stupidly speechless like this. You’re only whining when he toys a thick thumb around your clit, before pressing down on that buttony hood. Hard. “Biiiig stretch makin’ you stupid, gorgeous?”
It was. Oh, it really, really was - and right now you’re so far gone that the only thing you can do is take it.
And Geto’s so perfectly practised in ruining you this way, too. Planting dense drivels of his fleshy tip against your sweetened spots, dragging the tubby divot in wet little smears in expert time with every squeeze of your clit.
“Yes-” you’re mewling out a belated response to his question. “Yes yes yes-”
Only to be cut off with Geto’s palms smearing back onto your dozy mouth, blocking out the slews of addicted whines that just won’t stop.
And, honestly, that heartbrokenly teary look in your eyes is so adorable that Geto’s throat clogs up with his own little whine.
God, you were breathtakingly contagious.
Voice strained - halfway through breaking - dipping a few octaves higher than usual when he’s hushing out, “Shh shhh- no needa force that ah- pretty lil’ head to overwork-” Leveraging the hold around your mouth to drag you backwards into his cadence. Filthier. More. “-you jus’ focus on t-taking my cock like a ngh- good girl and I-” Oh, he’s almost collapsing onto you - already in for a long, long night waking up the association. “-will focus on fillin’ this talkative cunt up.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - 6 min. 18 secs
“Ch-Choso–”
And, to Choso, it was like the pearly gates of heaven had already opened their way up - and sat right front and center waiting on the other side for him was you.
With your trembly legs splayed out on either side of his vicious hips, hands sticking oh-so-desperately to the leather seat of his sleek black Hellcat. You’re lathering his swollen cock with thick, lustrous coatings of his cum from just before - when he’d crashed into his orgasm simply from putting it in. Drowning out your thoughts with the most saccharine sweet slurps from down below-
“Cho, baby–” Tapping his lovingly blushed cheeks a few times to knock your dear best friend back to at least an ounce of his senses. You brush away a few chestnut strands sticking to his prespired forehead, “D-dunno how m’gonna face your f-family after- ngh- this!”
And it takes him a few sloppy seconds - it takes him everything to even think of a jumble of words that might count as a reply.
Clammy hands latching on greedily to your vigorous hips, Choso has to force your cadence to slow down until he can string together a few syllables with his slack mouth. “Wh-why? I already hngh- parked a few blocks away from dad’s, s-so they won’t catch-”
“I know but—” your whining comes out so treacly condensed in the heady air of his car. Making him mindlessly ram another syrupy snog into your cervix. “But- you’re just fucking me so- so stupid.”
Oh.
That’s enough for Choso’s head to fall attractively backwards until his full weighty body was being supported solely by the cushiony seat. Pretty twinkling tears of sensitivity clinging onto his batting lashes, he’s whimpering, “M-me? I’m fuckin’ you hngh- stupid, baby?”
“Mhm—”
Nodding your head, your thighs just burn after every shuddering dab of Choso’s thickened length probing inside your gooey insides. Mushing up a spot modeled after him, an angry circumference of his fat tip indented into your poor g-spot. You’re feeling rivulets of his veins reaching each and every sensitive spot you never could.
He was drilling into you so filthily. So dirtily that your head was spinning with each sloshing wad of his seed swirling your insides.
And Choso - fuck, Choso looked like he was on the very urge of sobbing. Or, perhaps he was, you were much too cross-eyed at this point after every ram to confirm.
“I’m fuckin’ you s-stupid- Me.” he’s breathing out with such an air of worship. Blindly clasping one of your hands smeared against the foggy window to guide up to his lips and kiss. “S-say it again, my pretty baby. Heh…”
And right now, you don’t think you would’ve wanted to even if you could.
Jostling your hips with fresh pound after pound that leaves your soppy mounds of flesh stinging at the impact, every doughy thwack! of Choso’s plump, cum-filled balls against your ass has you gasping. “F-feel so- hngh- dumbstruck right now, Cho–”
“Because of m-my cock?” He’s giggling - giggling, a sleazy grin splitting that handsome face of his. Choso’s steering your needy hips to bounce down his copious inches faster. And faster. “Heh- is takin’ my cock like a hah- good girl m-makin’ you feel good?”
Fuck- and you can only nod.
“After o-only a few minutes?”
Punching your fists against his broad chest, but to Choso it only feels like a few kittenish bumps. “Cho! M’gonna g-get off if you t-”
“No! No no no no—” His knees thwack! against the car interior when he’s manspreading even wider. Legs jerking tightly up and down to collide your tender insides with plumpish mushroomy cockhead, “Stay- stay. Hngh! Hafta fuck you s-soooo much stupider.”
Fully as stupidly speechless as Choso was right about now, you didn’t know who was faring worse.
His muscular thighs slipping and sliding against yours with a glazed coating of cum and your honeyed slick. A low ah! ah! ah! slipping out every few seconds from those rosy pink lips of his with every drooling blow into your slobbery pussy.
“R-ride me until ya can’t even think, baby-” He’s pleading - begging. Viscous ropes of spit spattering out between his slack maw, he was drooling. Lips trembling, “Ride me- hngh- ride me a-and…choke me.”
Oh, the very second those pretty fingers of yours take Choso’s favorite position around his neck, his proudly globular head racks up a few gauzy wisps of pre. Dangerously creamy. Icing down your walls and making his overstimulated self keen.
Unable to even your sentence, your face hides in the very crook of his neck. Nuzzling against his sweat-simmered skin with how positively heavy your entire body felt. “G-god- feels s-so…”
“Nuh uh.” Choso lets his words drag out into a cute whine, chest hitching purely parched when your digits block off his airway even more snugly. “N-need to see your ngh- pretty face, baby- please- I need you to- need-” Sheer yearning flashes in his eyes when you’re tilting your head towards his fucked-out features once more, “-need you to kiss me.”
You’re giggling out, words airy. “S-so bossy, Cho–”
“Jus’ can’t get ‘nough of you.” He’s mumbling - hot and and heavy against your rawly kissed lips.
And it was a wonder that Choso could manage to strangle it out from his heaving chest, that he could even manage to breathe. Because with one last shuddering smooch of his rotund crown into your g-spot, you’re both tumbling headfirst into your high - Choso’s second orgasm of tonight.
And with every toe-curling flash of white, he’s smearing such streamlined splatters of seed into your melty insides. Hot. Sploshing down your walls and milking velvety rings upon rings around Choso’s hefty base - so viscous that you could almost taste it.
He’s making such a mess, too, giggling at how utterly speechless you were. Shrilling out nothing but mewling calls of his name.
Shit, music to his ears that Choso finds himself hypnotized to. Barely even registering when he’s patting the nudge of his puffy tip against your womb, pushing - just slightly - enough for tumbling dredges of cum to spill down your seeping slit and luster him until he was drenched.
“G-gonna hafta clean the c-car before we get back and ah- announce…” He’s looking up at you with stars in his eyes, so adoring that you could almost cum again from just this. “-our engagement.”
Your words choke up into a rolling ball of lead - an engagement? To your best friend? All the way before dating? And, yet, maybe it’s because your mind is still left in completely stupid shambles from before that you find your lips curling-
THUD! THUD! THUD!
A knock, and Sukuna’s voice through the black-tinted windows.
“OI! Jin is searching for you brats all over the place- SO YOU BETTER BE IN HERE-”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 2 min. 8 secs
“Fuck- fuuuuck would ya look at that cute lil’ bulge.” Sukuna’s chest heaves with rumbling little chuckles that echo against your back, two out of his four beefy arms pinning you so helplessly into his cushiony chest. “Well…heh, not little.”
The notorious king of curses was standing so tall - towering - and his dually rock-hard cocks were just the same. Swabbing open your slickly flooded insides in such a lecherous full nelson, he’s splitting open your glutinous walls with branding, thorough thrusts.
Knocking up against each and every bullseye of magical spots that he’d already memorized. You’re being shovelled with a girthy indent of his upper tip against your mushy cervix, managing out a broken K-Kuna—
“Tch, I know I know-” he’s rolling his eyes, leveraging the sinful uses of gravity below to watch you slip and slide your snug channel languidly down his left-curved shafts. “Ya want more- ‘sn’t that right, spoiled brat?”
But the only thing that thunders in Sukuna’s ears are the melodies of your sweetly singing cunt, slushy squelches of your puffed-up pussy lips slurping up every one of his numerous inches.
And, now, don’t get Sukuna wrong - it’s one of his favorite songs, one of his few weaknesses - but where was your honeyed voice?
“Oi- silly girl- forgot how ta ngh- speak?” You’re hearing from above you, all monstrous seven feet of Sukuna’s figure hunching over just enough for him to snarl hotly against your ear. “How else is the ngh- entire palace gonna know that m’makin’ my wife feel good?”
Punishing your plump clit with a lingering swat! of his thick fingertips, “Not answerin’ your king, huh? Guess I’ll jus’ hafta-”
“Ngh- m-more-”
Oh? That tone sounded familiar.
And now usually Sukuna would growl at you for speaking out of turn, usually he’ll plant a few sodden thwacks against your battered cervix to remind you exactly who you’re dealing with. But right now, he’s only scoffing, “The hell was that? Speak up.”
“More, Kuna—” Fuck, the utterly primal neediness in your voice has even Sukuna stuttering his vicious hips - much to your disappointment. And you’re wrangling in his vice-like grasp to gulp down a few more clingy gyrations of his cocks inside your gluey depths. “More- I n-need more- harder.”
“More?” he’s whispering. Seething. Shaking with a humorless little grin that oh couldn’t have been directed by anyone but you. “More. Heh fuckin’ slut. M-my little human wants more- oh, new record.”
Ah, new record indeed.
It’s been only what? A minute? Two? And here was his beautiful queen, all fucked dumb on his cocks again. So ruined that you could barely even speak, a smooth staccato of only wanting more replaying in your mind when your husband plunges in a capsizing few jackhammers.
You barely even register it when one of his hands tighten on your scalp, overgrown fingernails craning your head uncomfortably up, up, up for him to splatter your tongue dripping wet with a sleazy wad of his saliva. “Yer fuckin’ gone arentcha?”
And he might just be, too, with how pliantly you’re letting that thickened mass slide all the way down your tastebuds. Huffing, “F-fuck- more.”
“Greedy lil’ thing.” He’s puckering up your sodden folds with a slow circles of his fingers, before clashing another good smack! Dragging out velvety ribbons of your honeyed slick that cling to his digits, “Such a filthy pussy, even after- hah- after I can see my bulge in that ah- puny human cunt o’ yours, woman. Ya still want more?”
“B-bulge?” Your head lolls over to rest against one of the curvaceous cushions of Sukuna’s muscular deltoids, glazed eyes drifting all the way down-
Oh.
Fuck- the sight as complete heaven.
Your lips were parting way for Sukuna like butter, slobbering down your sweet sap of juices to him like you were glossing every inch of him. Bludgeoning in his rotund mushroom tip until your ass was bruising against the unruly trail of drenched pink that led to his swollen hilts. And the bulge- shit.
The bulge was rummaging itself to all the way up about halfway down your tummy - edging at your fucking lungs it felt like - was such a perfectly cylindrical outline of Sukuna’s matching cocks. Smearing open your gluttonous walls so widely agape, he’s crashing his smooching tips against your g-spot, your cervix. Both at the same time. Everywhere and anywhere that you could see now.
“Oh-oh-” you’re whining out, lower lip trembling every more frenzied with every glissading dab against those spots. The way that Sukuna had your clingy walls milking him so tight. “S-s’so big, Kuna–”
“Oh? So ya can speak other words.” He’s chuckling, fat fingers pressing a curving little pattern down on your sensitive nub. Pinching. Tugging. So harshly that you can’t help but flail in his hold mid-air. “Easy, easy there, brat. Jus’ thought ya f-forgot how to, heh.”
Oh, he was such a tease.
Such feral darkness oozing into his words when a third of his hands guide your own to caress that lecherous bulge. “Here- don’ be shy- wanna touch it, ngh- dontcha?” And of course, you do. Rubbing over the creamed divots of his outlined tips. In awe. “-yeah like- fuuuck like that- heh…such a cutie when you’re all f-fucked dumb.”
Shit- so utterly adorable that he can’t help but leave another sopping wet smack! on your clit. Another. And another. And another and another until the heat curls up scorchingly in your stomach, and Sukuna’s taking your star-struck moment to snicker, “Mhm– m’feelin’ a little bad for this ngh- p-poor cunt though. Maybe I should take out one cock…”
“No!” You’re crying out, hips trying so ravenously to scoop up every sloshing glob of pre that butters up your insides. And you’re sucking in every inch that you get, every merciless ram. All while boring your eyes into Sukuna’s tearfully, “N-nooo I wan’ it- wan’ them both s-so badly.”
Fuck, you were dangerous.
And the most powerful can’t do a single thing. Because, really, who was he against you?
Can’t do anything but lacquer your drooly tastebuds with another syrupy ball of spit - enough to make you cum.
Sparks of your high sprinting throughout your body, sheening an almost-sparkling wet slobber around Sukuna’s bucking cocks - all the way down to his flexing thighs. It’s thwacking and skidding your jiggling ass against his mounds of muscles even harder, riding out your orgasm on the way that Sukuna’s gifting sopping smacks! on that poor hooded peak of your clit.
Blinking back overstimulated tears, “Kuna–”
“Ah ah- ignorin’ the king when he’s t-talking to ya, cutting me off, cumming with no warning…” he spits hotly against your ear. “I should make ya pay for treason, woman.”
“H-how?” Still so cockdrunken. Still uselessly struggling against his twitchy gyrations, zig-zagging little wet paintings down your inner walls.
Sukuna pretends to think, a sleazy grin plastered permanently on his face. “Hmmm, how about…ya ah- squirt f’me.” All the while boring his devilishly red eyes into your heart-eyed ones. How cute. “If that pretty lil’ empty head remembers how that is, h-heh.”
♡ INO TAKUMA - 11 min. 6 secs
“C-can I cum inside? Again? P-please?” Ino’s hissing - more to himself than anything. Words bubbling out after each and every lazy swat! of his fat, ruddied tip down the very bottom of your pappy wet cervix. He wants more. He need more. “Shhh sh sh- jus’ a lil’ more- please. Just some- ah-”
Shit- it’s been what feels like hours now.
Your beloved boyfriend stuffing you full of ropy smears of cum over and over. Until your slick-filled cunt was flooded with an excess of his seed, until you couldn’t even think over the deafeningly saturated slurps of thick wads oozing out from you down below.
Until you were fucked stupid after only a few greedy hits of Ino’s fattened tip into your melty core - until he was utterly spellbound, too, after about solely ten minutes into this new round.
“T-Taku…” You yelp, throat scratchy with how strained your poor whines have become. Your legs dangle helplessly off his strong shoulders, such a sloppy mating press by now that it would be embarrassed to even be called one. “Baby- harder. Wan’ more…wan’ you to f-fill me up.”
Fuck.
Now, Ino knew that you were thoroughly drowned and cockdrunk - but he didn’t know you were this ruined. And fuck- fuck, he’s giving the side of his fatigued thigh a harsh pinch. Once. Twice.
Trying oh-so-hard to blink back some semblance of thought into his dizzy mind. He feels like he’s nodding drunkenly, planting a damp trail of pecks down your cheek because shit, he missed your mouth. “Oh. Wh-what was that? Ngh- say it again f’me, pretty? P-please–”
“Taku—” you’re whining impatiently. Cloying wet grinds of your hips swirling his thickened length around you so blissfully, sugarcoating thick rings of pre around your insides. “J-jus’ cum inside me again.”
“Sh-shit-” Ino’s pretty features scrunch up in such bliss, plumped-up balls squeezing to dredge out another wispy chain of cum. “Ohh ya have n-no idea what ya do to me.” Decorating your familiarly bruised cervix with a freshly lathered glaze, he’s whimpering. “C-can you say that f’me a-again, sweetness?”
And you’re letting your pouty maw fall slack in order to - to demand for more. A few stupidly mewling sentences on the edge of your tongue when Ino’s reeling his hips back and thudding numerous wet collides into your sloppy cunt. Prespired body glissading easily - so sloppily - against yours in determined smack! smack! smacks! such a tangled mess of limbs and need.
God- it almost hurts. Overstimulation and pleasure hitting him doubly all at once, he’s gritting his teeth with a rough groan of your name before planting more pounds after pounds.
“D-didn’t say it f’me- ngh- ah! again–” Ino’s panting into your dumbstruck-open mouth, sweat-lacquered forehead resting against yours. Pinching his thigh over and over to just keep his senses. And his deep voice cracks into a whine at the very end, “Talk to me. Please, tell me- ngh- t-talk me through it, pretty. Please-”
But his actions spoke the complete opposite.
Ino was clashing the steamy curve of his rotund tip against your g-spot so hard, beating it like a sloppy drum with every jackhammering dab of his hips. Fucking out every thought and gurgling syllable out of you with a pussydrunkenly boyish grin.
Spitting a thick pwah! of saliva onto two of his slender fingers, he’s dipping them down, down, down to roll a few zig-zagging patterns on your pulpy clit.
“C’mon- w-wanna hear your pretty voice—” he’s babbling, pearly tears making their home at the crinkled ends of his delicately pretty eyes.
“T-Taku–” You don’t think you could’ve spoken even if you wanted to, tugging through his smooth woody hair. Until it makes him hiss, and his sultry crownhead gush out wet globules of precum. “No ngh- fair.”
“Heh. Who has ya f-feelin’ like ah- this, sweetness?” He’s snickering into the corner of your mouth, chestnut eyes drooping further and further half-closed the deeper his veiny shaft was poking into the goopy bottom of your pussy. The further he was milking his seething tip on every miniscule cling of your walls. Teasing, “Who? Oh whoops- h-heh- tha’s right…you can’t talk right now.”
But oh, Ino had forgotten that just how fucked stupid that his brain was meant the exact same for his body, too.
Because in a split-second, you’re elbowing the pillowy mattress determinedly to flip the two of you over - Ino’s swollen girth still sunken inside, your brain still woozy. Even more so when straddling the slender curve of your boyfriend’s hips, trembly palms trekking down his mountainous pecs to push him flat onto the silky sheets.
Ino has such a sexy look of drunken adoration in his eyes when you’re bouncing your squelching cunt to ride him out of his mind. Prattling with your currently one-tracked brain, “S-said I wan’ you to f-fill me up, Taku–”
Oh. oh. And then he is - both of you are.
You’re jerking almost-violently at the wracking bouts of high that take over your body, flashing silvery stars behind your scrunched-up lids. Those sobbing thwack! thwack! thwacks! of his bulbous tip have you shrilling, letting Ino reach out a hand to draw little circles over your overwhelmed clit.
And he isn’t any better off - has his eyes sliding all the way back until all you could see was pure ivory, Ino’s chest arching deliciously into yours. His lower lip strawberry-red from being bitten hard enough gulp back those wrenching whimpers threatening to burst pathetically free.
One hand leaving a quick smack! to the fat of your ass before swirling it in hypnotic little circles to feel those ribbony globs of his cum sloshing around. Ah, he can feel it steaming thick masses so deep inside you - jittery fingers feeling for that familiar hot nudge at your womb. Such voluminous amounts that laminate his twitchy shaft with layers upon dripping wet layers of glistening seed, making such a mess-
Ino ends off with a giggle - a giggle. “Oh, I love it when yer r-rough w’me, pretty.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - 25 secs
“-twenty-three…twenty fouuuur-” Gojo’s dragging out, rounded tips of his fingers ghosting over your pulpy clit - just far enough to zap! your sensitive hood with an atomic buzz of jujutsu. Grinning down at you from where he’s holding you captive in a lecherous prone bone, “-twenty-five- h-heh…n’ already gone. New record, sweetheart.”
And you would’ve snapped back at your utterly ecstatic boyfriend if you could, you would’ve huffed out that he totally drawled on the count far longer than it should’ve lasted - but how could you?
Because just the sappy peck! of Gojo’s globular tip down the treacly pucker of your slit makes you dizzy. Meady wet spurts of his precum strolling languidly down your pussy lips, making such a mess - and he’d barely even shovelled you overly snug of his full, thickened tip.
But oh what was unfair - what was so completely dirty - is the way he was buzzing his filthy fingerpads with a shimmer of cursed energy, pinching your sensitive clit just enough to make you see stars.
“Ngh- oh my god.” you’re babbling out through slacked lips that feel like they’re fucking numb. Hips dizzily confused whether to bury yourself in a cocoon of those silken navy sheets or to run away.
“Yes- yes tha’s right–” he’s cooing, one hand swiping away the globular pearls of sweat that trek down your forehead, the other ringing out against your peaked clit with a miry swat! “Talk t’me ngh- l-loove hearin’ what that empty lil’ haaah- cockdrunk mind of yours has ta say.”
Sobbing out, “S’jus’ so- so big, Toru—”
“Heh…see?”
Yeah, he loved the cute wafting nonsense that spilled from your lips whenever you were fucked stupid on his thick, throbbing length. Red and angry to make your head even emptier-
And you’re scrambling helplessly towards the plushy pillows, the edge of the bed, the fucking headboard - only for Gojo to slam! one massive palm down on the mahogany headrest. Splitting it straight down the middle-
Muttering in your ear so sultry, Gojo’s slurring out a stumbling, “Now now- where’d ya think you’re going?” Your entirely shivering body being scooped up with a single curl of his bulging forearm around your throat. Fuck- his sweat-glossed biceps flex as you’re hauled back down, down, down onto his thoroughly rummaging cock.
“B-barely even halfway in n’ yer already so heheh- fucked dumb.” Giggling - giggling - deliriously in your ear in condensed little pants, he’s so hot glissading his weighty body down your back. Rows of ivory white teeth sinking into your precious ear lobe, you’re graced with a firm set of six-inch fingers on your waist. “Get- get ready for a hah- biiiig stretch, sweetheart.”
And a big stretch, it was.
It feels like you’re being rawly split apart - Gojo’s intruding girth caving out a bulging cylindrical pathway down your slobbery pussy. Puffy, crowned cockhead smearing open your gluey walls until you were sure you could feel every ridge, every thumping vein. Feel him poking his weepy divot into your mushy cervix in thick drags - you could cum from just this.
And you think you do - without your poor, spellbound goo of a brain even realizing. Your back arches into an almost painful curvature when you’re throwing your head back and cumming.
“Please- please please-” Garbling out, so fucking cute that he can’t help but lick a sleazy stripe down the glistening middle of your back and hum.
You’re gasping at the thickly vicious splatter of something on your shoulder - only to bleary your heart-filled eyes over your shoulder at the way that Gojo was drooling.
Whining, with every pap! of his prettily full balls against your ass. Slumping his heavy bodyweight like he was melting into your, ridged washboard abs massaging your back, hefty bodyweight pinning you down onto the mattress. His bicep curls into an even tighter headlock around your straining neck, “Yeah- ohoho yeahh that’s the stuff- t-talk to me s’more, my girl.”
“C-can’t even-” You’re whimpering out, hips jostling upwards in embarrassing little grinds that swirl the very rounded tip of Gojo’s tip around your melty insides. Milking out heaps upon heaps of creamy precum with every one of his greedy drives. “-can’t even think- can’t even b-breathe. J-jus’ want you…”
God - he was making a sheerly sludgy mess out of you. Branding your sweet insides with sugary coatings of precum, with thorough bruises.
“What do ya w-want, sweetheart?” Gojo’s muttering all over again, bearing your puffed-up clit with another pinch. Then another. And another. “Anything m’gonna give ya- ahhh, fuck- anything.”
Blinking up tearily, “A-anything?”
Which only makes him fuck you hard enough to practically mesh into one with the mattress - and then some. And it’s like he was pounding himself just as stupid on your cunt as you were with every one of his animalistic rams.
Sodden. Heavy. French mushes against your bruised g-spot - and you could already tell by the scarily bittersweet accuracy and those stray bolts of tiny blue lightning that Gojo was using his six eyes to cheat his way buttering your pretty cunt with lethal hits.
To spy your sweetest spots inside-
“M’gonna marry ya-” Promising over and over when he’s routing a wet trail of kisses down your perfectly arched spine. “-buy us a niiice big mansion- or a small one- your hah- choice. Grow old together, n’ I’ll kill off anyone that dares object.”
“Satoru…”
“Yes- yes?” Sapphire eyes wide and wild now - like he was in the middle of a fight, like he was prowling for prey just the way his fat tip was probing down every orifice of yours. “Tell me- tell me, sweetheart.”
“I-I want-” your lower lip wobbles adorably, and Gojo can’t help but slither his own down and suck like his favorite gummy candy. Making you mewl, “-wan’ a baby.”
And you swear you could hear the lilting crack in Gojo’s voice when he’s echoing out a highly-pitched. “A b-baby?”
The only thing your poor brain can manage out is a nod, and the only thing he can manage out is to just barely not fucking snap.
THUD!
Gojo’s got you locked in his powerful hold - muscled figure pinning you to the soiled bed, his deadlocked bicep hauling your mouth onto his. And he’s snapping his hips to yours so hard that you wince ever-so-slightly at the bruise surely formulating by now - or, well, would have formulated had it not been for Gojo’s reversed curse technique.
Working overtime now to not break a bone when he’s plugging your sodden insides with thick knots of cum. He’s cumming and cumming so hard that Gojo thinks he can’t stop - thinks he doesn’t want to.
“H-how I love when ya talk outta yer ngh- pussy, sweetheart-” Your shoulder stains with a few more translucent spatters of drool - and tears. Big and overstimulated, beading behind his glazed lids.
Gojo can’t let a single swashing wad of his seed drizzle to waste, plugging in numerously overspilling ounces back in through your puckered pussy lips. The sheer volume making his achy balls twitch with more and more. Doubly penetrating your sloppy hole with two fingers, he’s taking the sinful opportunity to slither a few spiralling patterns around your sensitive entrance.
A baby.
“A baby. A…a fuckin’ baby.” Gojo’s shaking his head - crazed. Smile humorless and dangerous where it was directed at you, and for a moment you’re wondering who really is the one fucked stupid right about now. “Oh, my girl, I’ll give you ten.”
A/N. Smooches to that one nonnie for sparking the idea hehe <3
toji accidentally crushes you while he sleeps :: sfw
the distant hum of the ac and toji’s snores were the only sounds disrupting the silence in the quiet room. your eyes darted to the digital clock on the bedside table. 4:27AM, written in a big, red angular font that provided a faint glow in the dark. you were supposed to be sleeping, but you just couldn’t. the room was freezing, the blanket felt too crisp and stiff, and the only source of warmth was the radiating heat from toji’s dead weight.
your freezing body scooted closer to him in the king sized bed, giving his huge bicep a tiny nudge. and just like an automatic door, he spread his arm out to give you space beside him. his warmth enveloped you immediately.
a low, sleepy mumble slipped from his lips which sounded like an unfinished attempt of an affectionate word. “mmm..lou”
even as he was still lost in a haze of sleep, his body naturally craved the soft touch of your skin. it was almost like you were a human medicine; no matter how upset or stressed out he was, you were always the cure that he looked for.
with a groan that sounded more animalistic than human, he shifted his weight and draped his entire body over yours until it knocked out all the air in your lungs. you let out a pained wheeze as his warmth spread all over you faster than than a wildfire. and just like that, the coldness of the room was forgotten, but you had another problem to deal with.
“hhngg- get…off”, you managed to choke out as his weight made it hard for you to even take a breath. every deep, structural rumble he let out was a vibration you could feel more than hear. and it was painful, like actually really painful. it was a deep, ache that somehow stung at the same time. and despite how cute it was that he was using you as a pillow, the stinging sensation in your chest hurt so bad that you wanted to scream right then and there.
no matter how hard your small hands shoved at his broad shoulders, he would not budge.
“OH FOR FUCKS SAKE, TOJI!!”
he let out a choked, violent gasp when your yell hit him like a gunshot. “AHK-!”, the sheets rustled frantically when he scrambled to lift some of his weight off you. and for a moment, he flashed you a dangerous scowl with predatory, narrowed eyes that glowed in the dark. but his facial expression melted as quick as it appeared when he recognized the scent of your sweet vanilla shampoo.
“oh, shit. you alright?”, he blinked at you in the dark, his gaze roaming around your body to see if he hurt you in his deep slumber. he actually had; now your breasts ached. you crossed your arms over your chest, pressing your palms flat against your breasts as they still throbbed from the boulder like pressure on them.
“im fine”, you muttered as you turned to your side. a tiny, frustrated huff escaped you, and that made his chest ache in a way he didn’t know how to describe. a different ache from yours obviously. a part of you thought his concern was cute, another part of you convinced you that you were mad. and even though his concern wasn’t said directly from him, it was shown in the way he was still hovering over you, tracking the way your arms were protecting your own boobs. his confusion almost made you laugh.
you could see how his mind jumped to different conclusions by the furrow of his brows. did he accidentally bite on them while he slept? did he squeeze them unconsciously? fuck, was he really that obsessed?
wait a minute…
he then ran a massive, calloused hand down his face, his shoulders shaking with a silent, sleepy chuckle at how ridiculous the situation was.
“are you serious? i flattened your tits?”
fun fact: im flat and when i was writing this, i was too scared to press on my own chest to feel the sensation, so i had to google up how it would feel if ur boobs got crushed
The Heian Era was a golden age of sorcery, but for you it was a gilded cage. Your noble parents wept tears of joy when the King of Curses demanded a tribute of maidens from the high houses. To them, offering their daughter to the god, the King of Curses was a divine blessing. They packed your finest silk kimonos, kissed your cheeks, and sent you off to a palace built on bones and blood.
You were quiet. You were gentle. In a court filled with ambitious women vying for the attention of Ryomen Sukuna, you kept your head down. When Sukuna’s massive, intimidating figure passed through the corridors his four eyes gleaming with bored cruelty, you knelt and kept your mouth shut. You listened, you observed. And Sukuna, initially throwing a lingering glance your way, soon forgot you existed.
Or so you thought.
The first concubine Emmeline, made sure of it. She was a vicious woman from a powerful clan, boasting a reservoir of cursed energy that made her arrogant. She bullied, sabotaged and terrorized anyone who dared breathe Sukuna’s air. She wanted to be the favorite, she wanted to secure her position as the future queen.
You were happy to let her have him. You preferred the quiet of your private garden, tending to the white lotuses grateful that the King of Curses had never called you to his bed.
Until the fifteenth day of the Tiger Month.
The afternoon sun was bleeding crimson across your veranda when the sliding doors were violently thrown open. Emmeline stepped into your garden, flanked by three of her sycophant friends. The servants had mysteriously vanished from your quarters, it was her doing, no doubt.
"Look at you" Emmeline sneered, her eyes flashing with a mix of jealousy and malice. "A quiet little bitch, hiding in her hole. But you’re too pretty aren't you? A distraction that needs to be removed."
"I have done nothing to provoke you, Emmeline," you said, taking a cautious step back.
"Your existence provokes me!" she yelled.
Before you could react her three lackeys lunged at you. Your peaceful demeanor vanished. Inside you, a fierce, latent fire ignited. You weren't just a pretty doll, you were smart, and you possessed a terrifying secret. You had cursed energy. And unlike Emmeline, who merely threw her power around like a blunt weapon, you knew the intricate anatomy of jujutsu.
"Get your filthy hands off me!" you yelled, your voice echoing with a fury they didn't expect. You kicked, screamed and slapped.
"Hold her down!" Emmeline screamed, pulling a small ceramic vial from her robes. "Force her mouth open!"
You channeled your cursed energy into your palm, a dense shimmering aura of raw power. With a swift backhand the shockwave of your energy sent one of the concubines flying across the garden crashing into the stone lantern.
"You bitch!" Emmeline roared. She channeled her own energy into her heavy geta sandal and kicked your wrist, fracturing the bone.
You screamed falling to your knees as the other two women pinned your shoulders. You began to cry, not from fear but from the searing pain and rising rage. They pried your jaw open. Emmeline laughed hysterically, tilting the vial. "Drink it! Drink it and rot!"
The burning, acrid poison slid down your throat. It felt like liquid fire tearing through your esophagus.
What Emmeline didn't know was that fate is a fickle cruel master. Today was the monthly imperial check-up. Sukuna accompanied by Uraume and his ministers was walking the perimeter of the concubine pavilions with the royal physician.
You fell forward, choking, and coughing violently. Crimson blood trickled from your lips, staining the pristine white pebbles of your garden.
"Is that all you've got?" Emmeline mocked, raising her foot and violently kicking you in the stomach.
The pain of the poison, the betrayal of your body and the sheer audacity of her boot against your flesh snapped something deep inside your soul. Your facade shattered entirely. You didn't give a shit anymore.
"Fool," you choked out, blood bubbling past your lips. You looked up at her, your eyes completely devoid of the kind girl she thought she knew. "You absolute, fucking fool."
You let go.
You stopped suppressing the massive ocean of cursed energy you had hidden your entire life. The ground beneath you groaned. The air grew heavy and suffocatingly turning a dark, bruised purple. The stone walls cracked. The lotuses in the pond withered and turned to ash in a second.
It was a catastrophic, devastating surge of power, a crushing weight that felt almost identical to the overwhelming aura of the King of Curses himself.
The heavy wooden gates of your pavilion exploded inward, shattered into a thousand splinters.
Through the dust stepped Ryomen Sukuna. His ministers were on their knees outside, unable to even breathe under the sudden pressure of your unleashed energy. But Sukuna stood tall, his four eyes wide, a manic, predatory grin spreading across his two faces.
He had felt it. A power that could actually rival a fraction of his own, originating from the one he had ignored.
"What is the meaning of this?" Sukuna’s deep, voice vibrated through the air, laced with an intoxicating mixture of amusement and lethal danger.
Emmeline froze, turning pale as death. "My Lord! She... she attacked us! She is a monster—"
Sukuna didn't even look at her. His lower set of eyes tracked the blood dripping from your mouth, the fractured angle of your wrist, and the dark aura swirling around you like a typhoon.
In a flash of blinding speed, Sukuna was in front of you. He didn't touch you gently, he never did anything gently, but his massive lower hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up into his crimson eyes.
"Poison," Sukuna murmured, his voice a low growl. He glanced over his shoulder at the trembling physician. "Heal her. Now. If she dies, I will flay every soul in this pavilion alive."
Uraume stepped forward, instantly subduing Emmeline and her cohorts with a wall of ice. Emmeline wept, begging for mercy, but Sukuna completely tuned her out. He was staring at you, fascinated, obsessed.
"You hid this from me" Sukuna whispered, his thumb wiping the blood from your bottom lip his touch a possessive, burning brand. "A beautiful, vicious little thing hiding in my own garden."
"I hate your palace" you spat out, the poison making you delirious, your usual silence replaced by the raw anger consuming you. "I hate your women. And right now, I don't care if you kill me, you arrogant brat."
The ministers gasped in horror at your disrespect. But Sukuna? Sukuna threw his heads back and laughed. It was a booming, terrifying sound of pure ecstasy. He scooped you up into his upper arms pressing your aching body against his broad tattooed chest.
"You will not die" he whispered against your ear, his breath hot and dominant. "You are far too interesting to let slip away."
From that day on, everything changed. Sukuna did not just make you his favorite, he became utterly consumed by you.
Emmeline and her friends were fed to the curses, their names erased from history.
You were moved from the secluded pavilion into Sukuna's personal quarters.
He would pin you beneath his massive frame, his four arms locking you in an inescapable embrace, his breath hot against your neck as his hands memorized every curve of your body.
"You are mine" he would growl into your skin, his teeth biting and his face nuzzling to your collarbone and neck .
"If the world tries to take you, I will burn it to ash and build you a throne of their bones."
He would say, kissing you.
"Could this be described as love? you would say mubbling, as he was holding you, worshiping you, shavoring you with pleasure.
"Only for you" he would growl pulling your legs you his shoulders.
Sukuna didn't know how to love like a human, he loved like a calamity. He was deeply, maddeningly obsessive. If another man looked at you Sukuna would sever their head before they could blink. He draped you in the finest silks, fed you the rarest delicacies, and demanded your presence at every court meeting.
You were the only one allowed to speak frankly to him. When his temper flared and he threatened to slaughter a village, you would yell at him, tearing down his arguments. The ministers would tremble, expecting your execution, but Sukuna would merely smirk, pull you onto his lap, and let his extra hands stroke your hair, and face completely tamed by you.
He made you his Queen. Not a concubine. Your absolute equal in a world of hierarchy.
Years passed, wrapped in his dark, protective embrace. And now, the culmination of your mad passion had arrived.
You stood in the center of your master bedroom, the heavy silk of your crimson robe parted slightly. Your hands rested over the distinct, rounded swell of your stomach.
The doors slid open, and Sukuna stepped in. The fearsome King of Curses, the god who made emperors tremble looked at you, and his gaze softened into something fiercely protective, almost reverent.
He walked over, his heavy footsteps silent on the tatami mats. He didn't speak. For the first time in his existence, the King of Curses looked humbled.
Slowly, deliberately Sukuna sank to his knees before you.
His two upper hands reached out, wrapping gently around your waist, while his two lower hands pressed flat against your pregnant belly. He leaned his face forward, pressing his forehead against your warmth feeling the faint, powerful pulse of his heir growing inside you, a child born of a noble soul and a cursed god.
"My queen," Sukuna murmured, his voice thick with an undying devotion as he looked up at you, with pure adoration. "Our bloodline will rule this wretched world forever, my queen." he would say, smiling.
The King of Curses was yours, entirely ruined by love, bound to your feet for eternity.
fluff. part of my trueform!sukuna x his favourite chubby concubine series. more here
you’ve been scratching sukuna’s back for what felt like hours now — delicately tracing every tattoo, softly dragging your fingernails nails down his skin as he lays sprawled out across the sheets.
you’re almost certain you heard him purr at one point like a relaxed cat. this was the most docile you’d ever seen him. you almost regret suggesting this idea to him at all.
when you try to stop, or move even an inch, he grumbles lowly, using one of his hands to reach around and grab your wrist — positioning your hand back where he wants it.
"i did not tell you to stop," he says, burying his face back into the pillows below him, feeling you continue your chore ministrations.
you sigh, then smile a little, wondering when sukuna became so needy. it was endearing, in all honesty. "my hand is tired, kuna," you whine, slowing your movements.
he shifts, turning his head just enough to glare at you in offence. "continue," he demands, clearly too comfortable to care how your hand was feeling.
it wasn’t as if sukuna had a small back, either. there was a lot of ground to cover, broad and spacious, packed with muscle that flexed with every movement.
with time, you learned to alternate between hands, switching when one got tired. of course, he complained at the millisecond your hand was away from his back so you could switch over.
eventually, this became a daily thing. as you settle into bed next to him, he lays himself down on his stomach, shirtless, glaring at you expectantly. "again?…" you ask, knowing you’ll be scratching his back until he drifts off to sleep.
"scratch."
additionally, he gets more demanding with his needs every time, mumbling "lower, woman" or "harder" — humming in contentment when you oblige.
like you had a choice.
oftentimes, when you’re feeling extra sweet, you dip your head down, leaving gentle kisses down his spine — making his body twitch. "how’s that?" you whisper gently, smoothing over the spots you kiss with your fingers.
you smile as sukuna relaxed further, humming to himself, tired and satisfied enough to give you a small amount of praise, (in his own way).
"…i do not dislike it."
you softly drag your fingernails all the way from his tailbone up to his neck, threading your fingers through the soft pink hair at his nape — pulling a low groan from him.
it was intimate, sensual. you did it a few more times for…good measure.
sukuna often asks you to keep your fingernails somewhat long as he prefers the sensation, secretly asking uraume to hide any item you may use to to trim them down.
that was the extent of his obsession. just wait until he found out about massages.
Gojo Satoru didn’t believe in just one round during your birthday, no, he was a firm believer of making you have orgasms all day, sometimes not in the most appropriate places.
The day starts with his head in between your thighs, morning sun filtering through the curtains and casting a yellow glow over your boyfriend’s white hair. His long, slender fingers grip the skin of your thighs roughly as he dives into your sweet pussy, head rolling back as you moan and whimper above him.
The second time, it’s in the backseat of his car. You want to visit a garden centre on your birthday? Sure, as long as he can bounce you on his cock in a quiet area of the car park afterwards. You’re far too cock drunk to notice or even care if the car is rocking violently each time he slams you down onto his deliciously thick length.
The third time, two of his fingers are splitting you open in your friend’s bathroom. You should’ve known that Gojo would try this when you said your friends had invited you round for the afternoon with an open invitation for your boyfriend too.
“Satoru,” you begin breathlessly, legs involuntarily spreading wider. “Someone could hear.”
He presses open mouthed kisses along your neck, nipping at your skin playfully. “Then let them. Let them see how well you’re being treated on your special day.”
You can’t contain your moan as his fingers plunge deeper, reaching that sweet spot that made your legs shake. “You’ve already-mm-treated me twice.”
“Not enough for me, baby. I won’t let you sleep until I’ve given you at least six orgasms today.”
You barely register his words as your eyes roll back, familiar feeling building in your lower stomach as you thrust helplessly against his palm.
The fourth time happens on the couch, right after getting home and unable to even get a word out before Gojo is pushing you down, fingers already straying to your underwear. Somehow, you end up face down ass up, drooling over one of your favourite cushions as Satoru pounds into you again and again, causing the nastiest of moans to spill from your mouth.
The fifth and sixth orgasm happens during the same event, in a fancy restaurant. Apparently, Gojo had no awareness of his surroundings even in one of the most prestigious places possible. He apparently also thinks it’s funny to rub the sole of his shoe over your clothed pussy during dinner until you finish, hands gripping your cutlery in a desperate attempt to look composed. And then to top it all off, he fucks you again in his car, the passenger seat now, one hand firmly wrapped around your neck so you don’t accidentally turn your head and notice how everyone can see the two of you this time.
ა ˙˖ in which → you have car sex with your biggest op, satoru gojo
frat!jo 𝓍 fem!reader
Everyone knows you hate fraternities, especially Theta Phi and it's president, Satoru Gojo
It was a given. The sky is blue, grass is green and according to you, fraternities are the root of all evil.
Which is why when you started fucking Gojo, it was under the condition that this was strictly between the two of you and you'd ruin his life if he told anyone about this.. arrangement.
Here's what not even your closest friends know about you: you had a very high libido and none of the men you were interested in had been capable of keeping up. you tried sleeping with athletes but even they didn't have the stamina to go for more than two rounds and while your vibrators always helped you, you had grown sexually frustrated and needed more.
You started snapping over the tiniest things, losing sleep and even daydreaming during lectures about getting fucked.
This.. arrangement started when you had been assigned to work on a project with Gojo, the arrogant white haired manchild you hated since the first day of uni. Now you were stuck with him for two months, working on a project he cared little about since he was too busy trying to charm his way into not just your pants, but your heart.
As if!
"Fuck, just like that, princesss. Come on, I know you can go faster." Gojo chuckles and grabs onto your hips, spreading his legs wider as he starts bouncing you on his cock so hard that the car is rocking back and forth, windows fogging up as he lifts his hips to pound into you.
You should be working on this project that was due in a few weeks, but instead you let Gojo drag you to the backseat of his car with the promise that this would be quick, something to clear your minds so you could focus on your work without any distractions.
Yet here you were four rounds later with cum dripping down your thighs from his previous loads that started to seep from the condom, body shaking as you neared your fourth orgasm.
"Screw you asshole, how about you get on top you lazy bast- oh!" Gojo lifts you off his cock and flips you onto your knees, awkwardly moving within the limited space until he’s behind you and lining his cock up with your entrance.
"You're so fucking mean to me, I love it." Gojo leans over your body to suck on your neck, one hand holding onto your hip while the other grips the back of the seat as he pushes into you.
"You d-deserve it." You push back against him as he pushes forward, meeting him halfway until he's balls deep inside of you, your cunt hungrily squeezing him for more, eyes rolling back when he starts to slowly move his hips.
You hadn't meant for this to go on for as long as it has. You had been frustrated after a shift at work, then you walked in on your roommate getting her back blown out, and when you went to meet Gojo for a quick study session at the library, it was closed and he smirked and told you his place was around the corner.
You reluctantly got into his car, arms folded across your chest as you stared out the window the entire way there, ignoring his flirtatious comments. It had frustrated you to no end, so who could really blame you when you started drooling after he offered to help you with your little issue?
It was supposed to be a one time thing, a quick solution to your "problem" until you could find someone more permanent, someone you didn't despise.
Only Gojo had matched your freak perfectly, going six rounds your first time and only taking a break once. You didn't want it to be him, did everything to convince yourself that he was actually terrible in bed but your vibrators had turned stale after that night, your mind constantly drifting to how hard Gojo made you cum on his dick and on his tongue.
He was just too good.
You arch your back so he can hit deeper, hands tightly gripping the leather head rest to steady yourself, skirt yanked above your waist, bra and shirt long discarded on the car floor.
You cry out when he hits a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars, head spinning from how deep he was fucking you.
Gojo groans and leans forward, grabbing your chin to turn your head toward his, pink lips slamming against yours. The kiss is careless, his tongue fighting yours, you angrily biting his lip because you hate yourself for letting him fuck you when you swore up and down you’d never get involved with a fratboy.
Gojo didn’t care, savoring the taste of his blood mixing with the spit you both traded.
When he pulls away, your brows furrow from the way he's staring at you, white hair falling into his face, lips slightly busted from your bite, a foreign feeling twirling in your belly. This was just sex, you wanted nothing more from him so why was he staring at you like he wanted to tell you something that would ruin your current agreement?
"Look at you.” He whispers too softly. “Letting me fuck you like a slut in my car. Anyone could walk by, you know? See how good I fuck you, how well you take me. You want that?"
When you try to turn your head, he tightens his grip on your jaw and smirks, slamming into you as he thrusts grow sloppy. The sound of your wet pussy squelching filling the car has him dizzy with need.
"You don't have to answer, your moans are telling me enough." He kisses you one more time before letting you go and pulling back.
You don't have a chance to dwell on what he was implying before he was gripping your hips and pounding into you at a pace that had you crying out as the coil in your belly tightens, your puffy walls gripping around Gojo's cock.
"M'gonna cum again!" You whined as his tip hit your cervix perfectly, fat tears escaping your eyes while your mouth dropped open in a silent cry.
You try to fuck him back, really you do but your legs are noodles at this point and the only thing keeping you up was Gojo's steady hands on your hips, euphoria coursing through your body and making your head dizzy with need.
“Come on, princess. Give me another one, yeah? You can do it, such a good girl f’me.”
You hate him so much, hate that he knows exactly what to say to push you over the edge, that he was way too in-tune with your body as if he had been created to please you.
Gojo pulls you up against his chest and you let your head fall on his shoulder. He wraps one arm around your waist and squeezes you flush against him, his other hand moving around your body until he’s rubbing circles on your clit and you’re lazily bucking back against him.
“Feels so good Toru, haah, don’t stop!”
The car reeked of sex, windows blurred from the breathy moans falling from yours and Gojo’s mouths as you both rock into each other. Anyone walking by would know what was happening inside. You thanked god it was late and the parking lot had been empty.
“Really? Thought you hated me, pretty girl. Who knew- fuck, who knew you had such loose morals?” He laughs in your ear, hand pushing on your back to arch it even further while he split you on his cock.
“F-fuck you, oh im close!”
Gojo laughs and places a kiss on the side of your head that lingers longer than it should before pushing you back down to get a better angle and his next slam sends you over the edge, your orgasm tearing through your soul as you squirt all over his seats and cry out his name.
This was better than porn.
Gojo doesn’t laugh this time, doesn’t make any snide comments because he can barely breathe with the way your cunt is pulsing around his cock, your juices dripping down his thighs and he thinks he’s going crazy because he’s never had pussy this good.
The fact that you hated him made this even better for some reason, motivated him to fuck you until you finally admitted that this was more than just casual sex. That he wasn’t delusional in thinking this could be something deeper.
He squeezes your hips tighter, pushing as deep as he can as he pumps his third load into the condom, eyes rolling back and a strangled groan escaping his lips as thick hot cum drips from the latex and into your warm pussy.
Gojo can feel it slipping it off, can feel your heat and gummy walls on his half free cock and it has him feral as he picks up his pace and fucks another load into you, his balls tightening and pulsing because you had never felt this good.
“Shit, princess. You’re so fucking wet, so good, s-so perfect.” He drops against your back, still holding you up as his hips stutter and slow, pushing the last of his orgasm out while you both catch your breath.
He stays there for a moment, his face tucked into the crook of your neck, thumbs rubbing circles on your hips as you both come down from your high. You can feel his cum leaking from you and down your thighs and you hate how it awakens something primal inside of you. And when the thought to push it back in had formed, you blamed it on your disheveled state.
In any other instance you would have pushed him off you already, huffing that it was only sex and would never happen again even though you both knew that was a lie.
Something about Gojo had you coming back for seconds and thirds. Every fuck session was somehow better than the last, making you forget that this was supposed to be a one time thing, something to hold you over until you found a more suitable partner.
Only you were starting to realize Gojo might be the best you ever had. It made you hate him more.
You gasp when he slowly pulls out, pussy overstimulated and swollen from the multiple rounds you went in the span of an hour. Both of you sitting on the cushion, one of your arms draped across the seat, Gojo’s throw over his eyes.
You sneak a look at him, heart thumping at how attractive he looked. His hair was all over the place, cheeks red from exhaustion, and his pants and boxers were still halfway down, cock still free and housing a half on condom. Your skin tingles at the sight of his abdomen and white pubes wet with your release.
He looked as fucked out as you felt.
Not one for awkward silence, you lift your hips to pull your panties back up and your skirt down, stretching your body to reach into the front seat for your shirt, ass in the air and you almost have it, your finger literally grazes the blue fabric before Gojo grabs you and pulls you down.
“Gojo! Oh my god, let go you freak.” You’re fuming, trying your best to wiggle out his grip but he just tightens his arms around your stomach, pulling you against him and lowering his head onto your back, littering it in soft kisses that burn through your skin.
"Go on a date with me. Please?"
This again. You told him multiple times before that this was simply sex, two college students helping each other out and nothing more. No feelings outside of helping the other get off. His stubbornness would only hurt him in the end.
"God no, I don't date frat boys."
"What if I left?"
You freeze against him, a lump forming in your chest. "Aren't you the president? You can't just leave."
What a cruel joke. Not that you wanted him anyways but even if you did, Gojo would never leave his fraternity. Certainly not for you. You two weren’t lovers, weren’t friends and we’re barely acquaintances given the fact that he was your number one op.
You remembered the time in sophomore year when he publicly called you an uptight bitch because you told him his party sucked. You lived different lives, it could never work. He would never change and you would never see him as more than a quick fuck and your unfortunate project buddy that you’d go back to ignoring once this was over.
"I can do whatever I want sweetheart, did you forget my last name?" He lifts his head and kisses your shoulder this time, goosebumps forming on your arms. Of course, he always tried to fix everything with money and status, which is another reason why you hated him.
You sit there quietly, lost in your thoughts.
You couldn’t seriously be with someone like Gojo, right? He was brash, had an ego out of this world and was a bratty nepo baby that flirted with anyone with a hole.
"So?" he asks, hopeful. HIs fingers gently dig into your belly to keep you from moving away, one hand coming up to grip your chin and turn your head back to him.
"So?" You repeat, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you lose yourself in his eyes.
For all of his.. lack of good qualities, he never failed in the facial department. Perhaps that was another reason you disliked him, because no matter how many insults you can throw his way, ugly wasn’t one of them.
Satoru Gojo was sculpted by the Gods themselves, which was unfortunate, because no one with a face like that should have a personality so catastrophically irritating. You can’t help but to let your eyes. traitorous things that they were, linger.
He notices because of course he does, and the smile that spreads across his face lacks any of his usual arrogance and for a second you imagined what life as his girlfriend could be like.
The thought came uninvited, images of him giving you sleepy morning kisses nad taking you on dates vivid enough to make your stomach twist.
Absolutely not.
Satoru Gojo was many things: powerful, insufferable, unbearably handsome, but he was not boyfriend material.
"Will you go on a date with me if I leave the frat?"
"No."
You answer too fast and Gojo is once again left heartbroken as you pull away to finish dressing yourself, refusing to spare him another look. He could understand why you hated him, but if you would just give him a chance to prove he could be different, he knew he wouldn’t disappoint you.
He would just have to keep trying, keep working for your favor because he would make you his if it was the last thing he did. He was competitive to his core and that wouldn’t waver just because he had finally met his match.
On the contrary, it only motivated him more. He saw the way you looked at him, how you were starting to let him touch you longer than you would have when this first started.
He was slowly breaking your walls down and it was only a matter of time before he made you his.
❦ lisa's note: this will be a series! I'll post the masterlist for it soon but lemme know if you wanna be tagged! 😋
first day, first lecture, actually. he stepped in late, and the only empty seat left was beside you. you both stared at the professor in pure, utterly confused silence, question marks probably floating on top of your heads as you tried to gather anything. after five minutes, you simply turned and asked him to let you pass so you could leave.
he grabbed his stuff, joining you. he asked if you wanted to grab coffee, and that’s how it all started.
three years later, you were the untouchable sukuna ryomen’s girlfriend. your relationship was private, no one knew any details (it wasn’t like anyone would dare to ask sukuna, especially with the way his resting face was a terrifying glare to everyone else) and you two preferred it that way.
no one knew the details. no one knew how sukuna was deeply and utterly smitten— the scowling, terrifying, muscular 6’4 man turning immediately into lovesick puppy for you. clingy, needy, obsessed, your guard dog of a boyfriend never ever let you doubt his love. he always made it clear, whether it was his arm’s wrapped around you every chance he got, or him spamming your phone whenever you weren’t around, using any excuse to talk to you, or the way he dropped everything for you, making it clear you were his first priority, or the way he listened intensely to every word that left your mouth and noticed everything about you— which showed when he referenced your words from months ago, or bought you gifts you didn’t even mention, or could tell you weren’t okay from a single glance.
it really was not a lie that sukuna ryomen loved you. he knew it. you knew it. his frat knew it. everyone that really knew sukuna knew he loved you.
which was why the break up broke you.
that night didn’t even seem real. he had ignored you for a total of three days, replying to your texts dryly, which was already odd. then, he showed to to your place in the middle of the night, jaw clenched, eye bags dark, like he hasn’t slept in days. he didn’t elaborate, didn’t explain— simply told you he was tired, that he couldn’t do this anymore, and walked away.
like he didn’t just ruin you. like you two weren’t discussing your shared future a few days ago. like you two hadn’t already agreed what stupid fucking roses you wanted at your wedding. like he hasn’t kissed you so softly just a few days ago, murmuring soft pleads for you to never leave him.
to make it worse, he didn’t disappear after. he attended your shared lectures as usual— sitting behind you, always behind you, like he needed to keep you in his vision. he left your notifications on, which you knew because he remained the first to view every story until you blocked him. he kept going to your favorite cafe beside campus (he didn’t even like their coffee) at the exact same time you always did, his sad eyes set on you, buying a single water bottle each time, until you stopped going. you even had to stop going to the library late at night, because he would always be there, blank notebooks open as he pathetically pretended to focus when his eyes wouldn’t leave you alone. even late at night, when you would scroll through your chats, you would see his bubble. tying. erasing. there.
it was worse, because it was obvious that he still loved you.
it made you want to scream, really. it would have been better if he just… pretended you didn’t exist. ignored you. blocked you first. flirted with girls in your vision. did anything to make you feel like he didn’t care anymore. like he didn’t give a fuck, so you could move on. so you wouldn’t get the stupid urge to show up to his place and ask him what the fuck his issue was. so you could hate him.
but again, unfortunately for you, sukuna was never good at hiding his love for you.
it was going to be okay, though. because sukuna already broke it up, and moving on was clearly the only good solution. it wasn’t like he will ever come back, anywa—
bzzz.
dilf420: bro. ur fucking bf is sulking and ruining my party. can you come pick his drunk ass up. ill pay u.
you blinked once at the notification, then twice, then immediately opened it. you really should have blocked the whole frat.
you: broke up. no longer my bf. also, ur broke.
toji replied immediately.
dilf420: idc that u two broke up he’s drunk and blabbering about missing his fucking wife come pick his ass up
you stared at the dm blankly, eyes staring at the words like it would disappear if you blinked.
his fucking wife.
your throat felt dry. heart physically hurting, like someone’s fingers were digging into the muscle and squeezing it the way sukuna used to squeeze your fingers before kissing each knuckle. it hurt, so much, your vision slowly blurring the longer you stared at the three words.
on the other side of the phone, sukuna was pressed against toji, shoving his face into the cracked screen, face flushed from the alcohol, lips almost pouting, hair messy from running his hands through it so many times. “is she answerin’?” he muttered, voice slurred. “my pretty wife, is she comin’?”
toji sighed. “nah, man. she left me on read. you’re so fucked.”
sukuna groaned, stumbling slightly before he was leaning on the wall, eyes shut in pure devastation. “she hates me. what if she doesn’t wanna get back?”
“…you showed up at three in the morning and broke up with her without giving her a reason, bro. on gojo’s soul, she does not want to get back.”
it was silent for a few seconds before a quiet sniffle echoed in the room, and toji’s head snapped to the untouchable, scary figure sliding down the wall, face buried into his hands, shoulders trembling. toji’s eyes widened briefly, but sukuna grunted, the sound shaky. “not a fucking word.”
the next monday, you were still recovering from toji’s dm as you slid into your morning, 8:30 am lecture. you were half-asleep, buried in sweatpants and a hoodie, hood up in an attempt to hide from the world. your eyes were drooping sleepily, head slowly slipping from where your head rested on your palm, the tip of your pen slowly seeping ink into the paper.
someone slides beside you, and you freeze. you knew that cologne. you bought that cologne.
you didn’t move a muscle, shoulders tense, eyes suddenly focused as they stared ahead. you could feel his gaze, his thigh pressing against yours in the annoyingly small seats. you could feel the heat from his skin, even from the thick fabric of your sweatpants.
…what the fuck was he doing?
your jaw clenched, before you took a quiet deep breath, convincing yourself he must have not looked properly when picking a seat. it takes a few minutes, but you’re finally able to focus back on your professor again, ignoring the way you could feel his gaze shifting to you ever few seconds.
“…i’m sorry.”
you sucked in a sharp, annoyed breath, gaze still ahead, fingers tightening around the pen in your grasp, eyes unamused. he slowly placed a cup on your desk— your favorite coffee, from your favorite cafe. you froze, and you could see him wincing from your peripheral vision.
“…give me a chance explain, please?”
you carefully pushed yourself up, grabbing your bag and notebook, and silently stepped out of the hall. outside, toji was standing, a sigh on his lips as he caught up with you despite how you only spared him an annoyed glare.
“he loves you, you know that.” toji murmured. “give him a chance to explain.”
“no.” you muttered. “he’s a coward who left me without an explanation. now he wants to give me one?”
toji grimaced. “that wasn’t his brightest moments, but… come on, he’s your sukuna.”
“he made it clear he’s not.”
that night, you were dragged to one of their parties, curtesy of gojo begging you to show with tears and snot running down his face, using a lame excuse about how everyone in the frat misses you. you didn’t buy it, but you had to stop the embarrassingly loud bawling boy on your doorstep.
now, you sat in their kitchen, perched on the counter, an overly sweet drink between your fingers, and a staring ex-boyfriend on the other side.
sukuna was sulking.
eyes set on you, lips pursed, arms crossed— he ignored everyone who stared at him just so he could keep his eyes on you. geto and nanami sighed as they passed, geto offering him a bottle casually, and sukuna grabbed it, eyes still on you before he tilted his head back and drowned half the bottle down, only stopping when nanami pulled it back while snapping about expensive liquor.
the thing about sukuna? he was a lightweight, and an emotional drunk. that usually manifested in a shorter temper when he wasn’t with you, and him being unbelievably clingy with you, and now, a few hours after gulping random drinks down?
it manifested in him dragging himself to stand in front of you, lips wobbling and eyes tearful, looking like a kicked puppy instead of the frat bro everyone was terrified off. “baby…”
you hated how your own heart clenched, fingers digging into your palm to prevent yourself from cooing at him and tugging him into your hold safely. you only narrowed your eyes at him, and his eyes glossed even more. he opened his mouth, probably to beg, only to halt dangerously.
you, unfortunately, knew him too well. you let out a loud groan, quickly jumping off and dragging him to an empty bathroom upstairs, shutting the door just in time for him to drop to his knees and empty his stomach out into the toilet. he let out a choked sob between retches, and you sighed, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, a hand slowly rubbing his back. “dumbass.”
“i miss you so much,” he immediately whimpered, eyes shut painfully. “i miss you so, so, much. please, angel, forgive me, please— i want you back, i need you back, ‘m a stupid son of a bitch for every breaking it off, i need you in my life, please—“
he was interrupted with another gag, and you sighed, resuming to rub his back as he continued, your own vision blurry, heart shattering at the broken sob he let out once he was done.
“breathe.” you murmured softly. “come on, kuna, breathe for me. you can do that, yeah?”
“no,” he choked out. “i can’t— can’t even breathe without you, baby. please, please, forgive me for being a dumb idiot, i need my wife back, please—“
“if you breathe now, and we can talk tomorrow.”
it was almost humorous how he immediately straightened up, red, watery eyes wide, nose red and cheeks flushed from the alcohol. you sighed, reaching over to wipe his tears away, and he let out a pathetic whine, immediately leaning into your touch. you finally helped him up, forcing him to brush his teeth before you opened the door, quietly leading him into his room.
inside, he immediately flopped into bed, tired, sad eyes staring up at you. “you’ll… talk to me, right? please, baby?”
“tomorrow,” you murmured, throwing him a pair of shorts. “just sleep now, okay?”
he nodded frantically, eyes shutting quickly, obediently.
no one would believe this was the version of sukuna ryomen you knew— now when everyone else got the loud, short-tempered, rude, asshole version of him. you stared at him softly, watching his breathe even out, eyes fluttering shut, before you sighed softly, and stepped out of his room.
the next morning, you woke up to sukuna in front of your door, hair messy and eyes exhausted, yet holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and your favorite coffee, the other messily trying to adjust his shirt to look more presentable. the second you opened your door, eyes sleepy and hair messily, lips pulled into a frown, he froze.
red eyes widened softly before his body relaxed, eyes softening, and breathed out slowly. “…hi.”
you reluctantly opened the door wider, letting him in. he stepped in, 6’4 solid figure suddenly seeming small, gently setting the items down, hands that are used to throwing punches leaning down to carefully adjust a delicate petal before he straightened up, eyes falling back on you, so full of unsaid emotions that they were already glossing over.
after a few seconds, he swallowed harshly, throat bobbing before he took a step closer. “i missed you.”
you frowned, eyes narrowing. “why did you break up, sukuna?”
“please,” he choked out the second the name escaped your lips, eyes wide in pure devastation. “please, angel. ryo, kuna, baby, pretty boy— anything but that.”
your frown deepened. he let out a defeated, shaky breath, and stepped even closer. “i broke it because i was a fucking idiot. i… i never loved someone so much, angel, i never cared about someone so much. you made me the happiest person alive, and… i knew you deserved better.”
you froze. he sniffled, taking another step closer, eyes desperately and voice breaking. “angel, i… i’m a selfish, possessive asshole, and you deserve someone perfect. i was so scared that you’ll wake up one day and end it, so i… just did.”
your vision clouded with tears, and he dropped to his knees, eyes wet with unshed tears. “i was a stupid, fucking idiot. i should have stayed, talked to you, got the reassurance i know my angel would give me, but i didn’t want to be selfish… i thought i was doing what’s best for you…”
he let his head drop, face falling to press against your abdomen, a loud, pained whimper escaping him. “turns out i was a fucking idiot for ever considering letting you go. i… i have been miserable, angel, bawled my fucking eyes out an embarrassing amount of times. i miss you so much, baby, i can’t— i can’t live with you. i can’t sleep, eat, breathe,” he gasped, hands trembling as they slowly reached to hold into your waist, and let out a louder sob once his fingers touched your body, tears soaking your shirt. “i need you in my life, angel. please, i can’t live without you. my heart only exists to beat for you. i was a fucking moron to ever think about letting you go. you deserve so much better— and i promise, ‘ll be better. i’ll be a better boyfriend, a better partner, a better everything— just, give me a chance,”
you sniffled. the second you did, his head snapped up, eyes wide and tearful and horrified, and he immediately shot to his feet, ignoring his own soaked face as gentle fingers slowly cupped your cheek, wiping your tears away. “please don’t cry, i can’t handle you being upset, please—“
“you idiot.” you finally whispered. he froze, eyes wide and pained, and you only stepped closer, letting your head drop into his chest. his arms immediately wrapped around you, pulling you until no space existed between you both. “are you stupid?”
“i am. i’m sorry, baby,” he whispered back. “i’m so sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m—“
“shut up.” you croaked out. “you’re an idiot. i love you as you are, you asshole.”
“i know, baby. i’m sorry.” he buried his face into your neck, his tears damping your shirt once more. “i’m never leaving you again, angel. not even physically— i’ll be so clingy you’ll get sick of me. i can’t live without you, i’m sorry, i’m sorry.”
you let him hold you, eyes shut tiredly. “…idiot.”
he let out a sharp laugh, holding you even tighter, pressing wet kisses all over your face until a smile broke on your pretty lips, and you could physically feel him finally breathing normally, still pressing kisses to your face, gentle and needy and desperate. “i know, angel. only an idiot would ever walk away from you. never, ever again. i love you. never, ever again. i’ll marry you, my love. never leaving you again.”
a/n i hate tumblr i had to write this three times </3 anyways hi ^^ still obsessed w these headers…
Exam stress leads to a late night horny decision. Everything is going great, until the guy in the video starts sounding a little too familiar
part 1 here! . part 2 here! . part 3 here! . part 4 here!
cr: 3vangel1ne_ on X
If you like listening to music while reading, I recommend this!
-
You woke up the next morning with a dull pounding in your skull and your mouth painfully dry. For one merciful second, your mind was blissfully blank. Then the memories crashed over you all at once.
The dimly lit hallway.
Satoru’s tall frame pressed back against the wall.
The broken whimper that escaped his lips when your mouth found his neck.
Your own lips still felt faintly swollen, as if you could still taste the warmth of his skin—sweet, soft, and addictive. Between your thighs, a traitorous heat lingered at the mere recollection of his hardness pressing against you.
The memory refused to leave you. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw his flushed face—lips swollen, eyes wide with shock and something dangerously close to desperate want.
But it was the scent that haunted you the most. He smelled so good—deliciously masculine, soft, and unmistakably him. And now, as you lay in bed, the faint trace of his cologne still clung to your skin, inextricably entwined with your favorite vanilla fragrance.
By the time you dragged yourself to the small breakfast counter in your dorm, guilt twisted sharply in your stomach making it impossible to eat. The jealousy that had fueled your drunken courage the night before now felt pathetic and ugly in the daylight.
The chat with Satoru had been open for nearly thirty minutes. The cursor blinked mockingly at the end of another half-written message you’d already deleted twice.
Hey, about last night…
Delete.
I’m really sorry. I’ll finish the project, you won’t have to see me anymore.
Delete.
Satoru, I need to tell you something important. I know about your channel. I’m not going to tell anyone, I swear. I just—
You stopped.
How the hell were you supposed to explain this without sounding like a complete stalker? Hey! I’ve been getting off to your videos while pretending I didn’t know it was you and then I basically attacked your neck cause the real thing was too much to resist?
You groaned, burying your face in your arms on the counter. He hadn’t texted you either. But what were you expecting him to do anyway? After what you’d done, he was probably avoiding you cause he thought you were insane.
“Fuck” you muttered.
By the afternoon, the guilt had become unbearable. You still hadn’t texted him, instead, you forced yourself to open the shared document for the chemistry project. You tried to work for a while, adding a few clumsy notes and sources, but every sentence felt forced and meaningless.
Shoko texted asking how you were feeling. You replied with a vague “hungover af, but alive” and quickly ignored her follow-up asking if you’d talked to “pretty eyes” yet.
Eventually you gave up on the document, flopping onto your bed, grabbing your phone to try and write an apology one last time.
Hey. About last night… I’m really sorry. I was way too drunk and I shouldn’t have done that. Can we still work on the project? I promise I’ll keep things professional.
You didn’t send that one either. Professional. As if you hadn’t left hickeys on his neck and felt him hard against your stomach while he whimpered into your mouth.
You realized then that you were terrified of the silence between you. If you sent that message, you would be forcing him to acknowledge what happened, and you weren’t sure you could handle his rejection—or worse, his pity. You just couldn’t do it.
You were just about to lock your phone when a notification banner slid down from the top of the screen.
⤷ blue.sg uploaded a new video! 2 min ago
You knew you were a hypocrite. A massive one. You’d spent the entire day feeling guilty, writing fifty different apologies, and yet, here you were—thumb pressing on the notification before your brain could talk you out of it
There was no title. Just a short description: from last night.
The video started abruptly.
The camera was propped up on the sink, slightly crooked, as if he had thrown it there in a rush. Steam already filled the bathroom. Satoru stepped straight into the shower, fully naked, and the water crashed down on him immediately. His face was out of frame, but the water ran down his abs and over his impossibly hard cock.
He didn’t tease. There was none of his usual slow, shy build-up.
This was pure desperation.
His large hand wrapped around his throbbing cock and he started stroking immediately — fast, rough, almost punishing. The wet, obscene sounds of his fist flying over slick skin were loud even over the running water.
“Fuck…” he groaned, voice already wrecked. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
His hand moved frantically, squeezing tight, thumb pressing hard against the sensitive head every time he stroked upward. Precum mixed with the water, making everything look deliciously slippery.
“I accepted that—fuck—invitation cause I knew you were going to be there…” he panted as hips jerking forward into his fist. “I hate these things but I just wanted to see you.”
His strokes became even faster, almost angry.
“I was trying to make up my mind to send you a text….something I would never do anyway —ahh—fuck—but then you show up in front of me looking like the prettiest fucking angel I’ve ever seen in my life and I completely forgot how to function”
His voice cracked beautifully as he twisted his wrist on the upstroke. A broken whimper escaped him, high and needy.
“I know you were drunk… I know it didn’t mean anything to you. You weren’t thinking straight, but I… fuck—”
He was breathing hard now, almost sobbing between words. He fucked his fist harder, hips snapping forward desperately. Water ran down his toned abs and over his throbbing length as he squeezed tighter.
“I can’t stop thinking about it. That vanilla is like a fucking drug. I can still smell it on my skin. You smelled so fucking good.” he whispered the last word as he leaned his forearm against the tiled wall for support “Your lips were so soft and wet… you tasted like alcohol and sweetness and I— ahh— I got so fucking hard it hurt. I came in my pants like a desperate loser. I couldn’t even move. Just sat there on the floor with your lipstick on my neck and my pants ruined like a pathetic puppy.”
A particularly filthy moan tore out of him. The camera caught everything: the way his heavy cock throbbed in his hand, the way his abs clenched, the way his knees almost buckled.
“I’m so fucking pathetic for you…” he whimpered, voice hoarse and trembling. “And I know it was nothing to you, but to me— fuck, to me it was everything. I wanted to beg you to keep going. I wanted you to push me down, sit on my face, use my cock however you wanted. I would’ve let you ride me right there in that hallway”
He let out a ragged, shuddering breath, his head dropping.
“I wanted to cry after you left. I sat on the floor with cum in my pants and still got hard again ten minutes later just thinking about your tits pressed against me” He let out another filthy, desperate moan “—fuck—I wanted to grab them so fucking bad, wanted to bury my face between them and suck on them—ahh— please… even if you regret it, even if I’m just a mistake, use me. I don’t care how pathetic I sound. I’ll whimper and beg and cum all over myself every time you want. Just— fuck— just let me have something.”
He was stroking so fast now the motion was almost blurry. His balls were drawn up tight, cock swollen and dark.
“I’m gonna— I’m gonna cum— fuck—!”
A loud, broken cry ripped out of him as thick, powerful ropes of cum shot against the shower wall. He kept stroking through it, moaning shamelessly, body jerking with every spurt. There was so much that even with the water running, it dripped down the tiles in messy streaks.
He stayed there for a long moment afterward, breathing hard, forehead pressed against the tile, water cascading over his trembling figure.
Then, almost like he suddenly remembered the camera existed, he reached out with a wet, shaky hand and stopped the recording.
You sat there in silence for a second, heart hammering against your ribs.
The screen went black, leaving you staring at your own reflection. Your breath was shallow, your heart still racing, and the air around you felt thick with the heavy, lingering presence of Satoru’s confession.
He’s talking about me.
The realization slammed into you with dizzying force.
You’d spent the whole day torturing yourself, convinced you’d crossed an unforgivable line by watching his content and then kissing him. Meanwhile, Satoru had an entire secret porn channel dedicated to jerking off and whimpering for you.
And last night, after what happened at the party, he had run straight home and broken down in the shower once again because of you.
The irony hit so hard you almost laughed, except the sound came out as a shaky exhale. For a long moment you just sat there, chest heaving, panties soaked and thighs pressed together.
Suddenly, all the guilt transformed into something hot and sharp in your chest.
Power.
This shy, sweet boy who blushed when you looked at him had been secretly obsessed with you. Filming himself falling apart for you. Begging the camera for you.
And now you knew.
A part of you wanted to close the app, to preserve the sanctity of what you’d just witnessed, but the need to see how the world reacted to your boy was too strong to ignore. You tapped it.
You read through them, a wave of possessiveness washing over you, layering itself onto that newfound sense of power.
You didn’t need to watch any more. You had seen enough. The adrenaline thrumming beneath your skin had shifted into something else entirely, no longer fueled by the video itself, but by the idea already taking shape in your mind.
Without another thought, you opened your messages and typed:
Cho. I need a favor.
—
The hallway outside room 127 smelled faintly of instant ramen and laundry detergent. Your heart hammered against your ribs as you stood outside Satoru's door, your fist hovering in the air for a split second before you finally knocked.
The lock clicked.
Satoru looked exhausted. His white hair was a mess, as though he'd been dragging his hands through it for hours. Dark shadows sat beneath his eyes, and an oversized black hoodie swallowed his frame. His blue eyes widened when they landed on you.
“Can I come in?” you asked.
He swallowed, then stepped aside without a word.
The apartment was quiet. The small living room was neat enough to look recently cleaned, yet something about it still felt lived in—a mug abandoned on the table, the white hoodie tossed over the arm of the couch, the faint scent of coffee still hanging in the air.
Satoru hovered awkwardly by the kitchen counter.
“You can... sit.”
You lowered yourself onto one end of the couch.
He remained standing for another second before sitting on the chair opposite you, hands resting on his knees, unable to meet your eyes for more than a moment.
“Do you want anything? Water? Tea...?”
You shook your head.
“No.”
Silence settled between you, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was suffocating.
Satoru’s knee bounced almost imperceptibly. His fingers twisted together before he forced them apart again.
Every few seconds, he'd glance at you, only to look away the instant your eyes met.
You reached into your pocket without saying a word.
Unlocked your phone.
Opened the video.
Then, leaning forward, you placed it face-up on the coffee table between you and gently slid it across until it stopped in front of him.
He frowned, then looked down. The moment he recognized what was on the screen, every trace of color vanished from his face.
The video replayed from where you’d left it paused.
The shower. His voice. His hand.
Slowly—almost fearfully—his gaze lifted to yours. His expression was pure panic.
You held his eyes for a long moment before finally speaking.
“Were you filming yourself while thinking about me, Satoru?”
the song that sounded in my head after the end
1- I'm sorry
2- bro is so famous he got 248 likes in like 10 minutes
3- that ""smau"" took SO long to make. I hated every second of it. it doesn't make ANY SENSE but I needed to do it.
4- actually I'm not sorry
Reblogs are sooo appreciated
part 6 coming soon !
masterlist
your big boyfriend always leaves you sore between your legs 𐦍
fluff/ light smut
you thought you’d be used to having a big boyfriend by now — six foot three, body sculpted by the gods, dick big and heavy (and he knew it).
the morning after he’d fucked you stupid, you’re used to having a little tenderness between your legs. it was normal to you. expected.
that’s not to say it wasn’t close to agonising sometimes.
"y’okay, sweets?" satoru asks as you wake, cuddling up to you as soon as he catches a glimpse of discomfort on your face.
he presses a kiss to your shoulder, watching you clutch your lower stomach. "mhm, just sore," you reply.
you were a little more than sore, but he didn’t need to know that.
satoru nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, then rolls you over so you’re flat on the bed. "my poor baby. lemme see."
there wasn’t an ounce of mock-sympathy in his voice — just pure love and affection.
you let him pull your shorts down, placing them beside you. he kisses your knee before parting your legs, gaze focused on your pussy. it’s like you could still feel him down there, the soreness and weight of him still lingering.
satoru hums as he parts your folds, pussy still slightly puffy and red, most of the pain on the inside near your cervix. "m’sorry, princess," he says, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your clit.
"mm, i have such a big, mean boyfriend" you respond with a faint smile.
satoru giggles, then slides your shorts back onto you, gathering you in his strong arms to give you all his love and attention. "soooo mean," he says, kissing you all over your face with exaggerated ‘mwah’ sounds.
after cuddling you for a little while, he grabs you your heating pad, placing it on your lower stomach before drawing you a hot bath. and of course, he orders you copious amounts of food and unnecessary gifts.
"you don’t have to do all this, toru. i’m okay," you say, watching him saunter back over to you with that infamous casual confidence, gathering you in his arms and walking you over to the bathroom.
"shhh," he hushes, sitting you on the ledge of the bath and helping you undress, "always gonna take care of my princess."
he pauses for a second, allowing a moment of silence before breaking it again. "suchhhhh a shame i have such a massive di-"
you cut him off with a glare as he climbs behind you into the bath, shortly after setting you down in it.
