(◠‿・)—☆ come forth, and play in the shadows. ☆-(◠‿・)
⚡my requests are open, as are my asks. i'm open to fluff, smut, and angst. if you're unsure of anything, feel free to ask! I don't bite, promise (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
🌀ongoing🌀
Storming Skies
-tags: au, oc, ryomen sukuna, platonic, found family
A child with claws does not know to be gentle with his food.
Ryomen Sukuna was born ravenous. In his desperate search to satisfy his hunger, he'd torn things apart just to shovel food in his starving maw.
It wasn't until after being taken in by Takara that Sukuna even realized it was an option to be gentle. As a child with claws, he ripped through food regardless of if it needed to be killed to be eaten or not.
So as you might imagine, upon being given his first orange when he was ten years old, it was a massacre. His claws tore through the peel, then into the tender flesh within the fruit. Juice exploded, a sticky mess that he ignored. He was used to mess, accustomed to it.
His caretaker wanted better for him. After a few fruit-related mishaps, Takara and Sukuna sat beside one another on a fallen tree, just outside the village. Takara showed, with scarred hands that had seen their fair share of violence and bloodshed, how to be gentle. How to peel back the skin and find the sweetness underneath without bringing destruction to the goodness within.
The orange now peeled, Takara places the segments in young Sukuna’s clawed hands. He pushes a hand back through that messy pink hair, then leaves Sukuna to his business.
Sukuna learned softness that day.
If only that softness would last.
an: no proofreading, we die like men. i've been in a writing slump for a few months, so this is an offshoot of a story i'm passionate about just to get the brain back in the swing of it. yes, Takara is an oc. header art by me <3 idc if any of this makes sense
random texts with some of the jjk men (gojo, geto, naoya, nanami, toji, hiromi, sukuna)
cw: sfw, naoya
an: my first smau post! this was supposed to be a 50 followers celebration thing, but having no motivation made it take weeks for me to finally post it :'3 hope you enjoyed!
inspired by yenayaps, who put objectkuna in our heads. one such work can be found here! please check it out
cw: porn with very little plot, fem reader, sukuna but he's a dishwasher, not at all proofread
You were a fresh college graduate, moving into your very own apartment for the first time ever. It wasn't a huge space, maybe big enough for you and one other person. Not ideal, but good enough for a first home. Your landlord, however, warned you to be careful with the dishwasher. “Got it for cheap at a yard sale, but ya never know when something like that will shit out on ya,” he had told you.
You didn't really listen.
Look, you're a busy girl! Between your new job, your friends, dating — who has has time to listen to some old man? And it's not like your parents had a dishwasher, so you weren't even sure how to load one. What you were doing seemed to work, so you kept doing it. Loading the dishes into the dishwasher haphazardly, in a way that makes no logical sense. The dishes get clean (mostly), so who cares?
Well, after a month of misuse, your dishwasher started to act… weird. It didn't stop working, but sometimes it would leak on the floor or fire out steam near your face when you opened it. You had a friend look at it, but he couldn't see anything wrong.
One night, when you loaded up the dishwasher before bed, it blasted out a puff of steam that nearly hit you in the face. You scowl at the offending appliance, slamming the door shut before you push the buttons with a little more force than necessary. “Stupid hunk of metal,” you huff to yourself as you turn away to head off to bed.
✿
Something wakes you up at three in the morning. A loud thud, followed by- the sound of a man cursing? You sit up with a jolt, your hands scrambling for anything you can find to defend yourself from a crazy guy who clearly decided to break into your apartment. What do they land on? Your alarm clock.
You know what, that works.
You creep out of your bedroom, holding your alarm clock in front of you. When you reach the entry to your kitchen, you flick the light on only to be faced with a fully naked man standing in your apartment. You scream, throw the alarm clock at his head like a football, and watch as it slams into the back of the man's head.
Sukuna curses, his hand rubbing the back of his head as he turns around. “What the hell was that for?!”
“Who are you??” You step back, raising your fists like you could actually do damage against this guy. He's over six feet tall, a wall of muscle with tattoos all over his body.
“Who-” Sukuna sputters, “I'm your dishwasher, dumbass! Some tiny guy put a freaky curse on me and turned me into a dishwasher, then I was dragged into this place where I had to deal with you loading me like a psychopath!”
“You're messing with me. You can't be my…” you trail off when Sukuna points at the gap under your counter that used to hold your dishwasher. He points at the gap, then himself. The gap again, then himself once more. You sigh. “Oh my God you're really my dishwasher… okay fine, what's your name?”
✿
“Show you.. how to.. load.. something.. PROPERLY-!” Sukuna grunts out between thrusts, his wide hands gripping at your thighs to keep you suspended in the air while he drills into you from behind, your back pressed to his broad chest.
You throw your head back against his shoulder, overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled and stretched in such a way. If someone had told you only hours ago that you would be in your kitchen fucking your dishwasher, you'd have called that person crazy! “Ahhn- ‘Kuna, ‘s too much!”
Sukuna groans. “Too much? That's how it felt when you did your fucking dishes. Now take it like a good brat.”
You whine, squirm against his touch. You can feel your orgasm approaching fast like a speeding train, and your body tries to escape on instinct. Sukuna, however, is having none of that. He takes you over to the countertop over where he once sat as an appliance, bends you over the cold linoleum. One hand grips your hip as the other reaches around to run against your clit, moving in time with his thrusts. “What, you gonna cum? Gonna make another mess for me to clean up?”
You whine, nails raking at the countertop. “Yes! Yesyesyesfuckpleaseeee-”
Sukuna bends down over you, his forehead pressed to your back as his thrusts grow sloppy. “Do it then. Cum for me.”
The tension inside you snaps suddenly. You tense, slick gushing out from between your thighs as you cum. “Kunaaa!!” The man you're screaming for thrusts a few more times before burying himself to the hilt, flooding you with his warmth. When he pulls out, he watches as you gush with his release for just a second before shoving it back into you with his thumb.
You lay on the countertop for a minute or two before finally catching your breath. When you feel like you can move again, you turn around and sit, putting you at eye level with Sukuna. You grin, your head tilting to the side and your finger trailing across his chest. “Soooo is there any chance you can still do my dishes for me?”
He groans, runs a hand down his face. “Shut up.”
an: this one isn't as long as i'd like it to be because with the holidays coming up I've been busy nonstop, but I hope you enjoyed! i have more wips that I hope I'll finish soon, but who knows :')
reader who's always been the second choice (maybe not even a choice at all). reader who's been left behind and had others picked over them. reader who watches everyone get what they want.
angst. or fluff. fluff. yeah fluff pls.
that with. hmmm. maybe Geto. u can choose whoever i wont lie.
just a lil drabble. Just as a lil comfort for me. pretty pls. (if i want the reason to why im saying this, dm me on discord. I'll let u know what's up)
It happened again.
You met this guy last week at a coffee shop. He was cute, really sweet — you'd hit it off right away! So, you exchanged phone numbers. Agreed to go out sometime, have a proper date.
Since you're both into history, you said you'd meet up at a local shrine today at three. You wanted to walk; it's a nice day out, so why not enjoy the weather? You left about twenty minutes early so you would get to the shrine on time, and since you were walking, you didn't look at your phone. It was on vibrate in your bag, you weren't gonna risk checking it and tripping on the busy sidewalk.
So, here you are. Standing outside the gates, pulling out your phone to message your date… but you see a notification. The timestamp is 2:45, when you were walking, happy and excited. Blissfully unaware.
Fuck. It happened again. This always happens to you, you're never the first choice for anyone. Like the universe wants you to stay lonely.
Your legs feel numb. You lean back against the stone wall, your hands digging into your bag to pull out your trusty old headphones. You want to cry, but you can't do that here in public. So, you comfort yourself the only way you know how: through music. Your headphones plug into your phone, and the tiny speakers stream the metal stylings of Lorna Shore directly into your brain. It's peaceful, the way the heavy instruments beat against your skull. Your ears will be ringing like hell later, but for now, you almost feel better.
✧
Maybe it was the crazy amount of cursed energy seeping from your pores, wild and untamed like the feelings of rejection swirling inside your heart. Maybe it was your loneliness, your sadness, so much like his own. Either way, Suguru Geto approaches you, his robes swishing with every measured step. “Hello?” He sounds so calm, so sure of himself, even when greeting a stranger.
You don't reply, not at first. You're spacing out, staring ahead, your mind being silenced by music. It's not until the man standing at your side tilts his head that you even notice him, and you fumble to pause your music and shift your headphones to rest around your neck. “Oh- hey, sorry. Hello.”
Heartbroken as you are, you notice how this strange man looks. He's attractive, maybe more so than the guy who stood you up today. His hair is long, his voice is smooth, and he looks at you like he can see you…
Fuck, this guy is perfect.
Suguru smiles, his head tilted to the side and his eyes briefly closed. “Are you waiting for someone?”
You frown. “Well- no. Yes? I was, but my date cancelled. Other plans, I guess. I was about to go home-”
Suguru’s eyebrows lift. “Cancelled? How foolish of him. If you don't mind, I was looking for some company for the tour. Care to join me?”
Your heart flutters. This guy is asking… you? Really?? You blink once, almost shocked, but you nod. Together, you step through the gates of the shrine.
✧
The shrine tour goes.. really well. Suguru had visited this place a few times before, but he still patiently watches as you take in the sights, a permanent smile on his face that seems to grow more and more genuine as the hours pass.
Finally, the sun is setting. Suguru had mentioned a trail nearby, something that winds through the trees and makes for a relaxing walk at the end of the day. At some point, your hand had found its way to his, and Suguru didn't pull away.
“I had fun today,” you begin, voice soft like the sunset framing your form. “Thanks for taking pity on me, I suppose.”
Suguru hums. “That man who cancelled your date was a foolish monkey.”
“A huh-”
“You're worth more than that. Never pay a man like that an ounce of your attention.” He stops, turns to face you. “Can I see you again?”
Warmth floods your chest. “Yeah… I'd like that.”
an: helium! it takes me ages to write anything, but here it is! hope you feel better soon <3 also, this wasn't proofread at all (sorry about that)
tags! (you asked to be added to the perm list I'm sorry ;-;) @mannythemunchkin
a Kento Nanami x fem!reader work dedicated to my friend @caramellia-and-parental-issues. Hope this is ok, I really wanted to keep it a surprise so I didn't have anyone look it over :')
cw: pure fluff, tooth rotting levels of sweetness, Nanami is a thoughtful king
On the day of your birthday, you wake up to your alarm like any other day. Your husband, the wall of warmth you loved to cuddle up to in the night, had roused himself from sleep an hour earlier, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead with a whispered reminder of love before leaving for work.
As much as you would love to stay in the comfort of your bed, you have your own duties to attend to. Working as a sorcerer doesn't afford you any off days, unless you find yourself tucked away in a hospital bed. You aren't dying, so you get up.
Your morning routine passes quickly enough. A shower, brushed teeth, your Jujutsu Tech teaching uniform pressed free of wrinkles and slipped on without a hitch.
You make your way out to the kitchen — sorcerers need to eat, after all. You're about to open the cabinets, searching for a simple and quick to repair breakfast, when your eyes fall to a note pinned beneath your favorite mug sitting on the kitchen table. You curl your fingers around the mug, warmth from the coffee held within settling into your fingers as you read through the neat handwriting left for you by your husband.
A smile warms your cheeks as you sip your coffee. Kento, the sweetheart that he is, ensured that you would receive a special breakfast on your birthday even if he was unable to be present to give it to you. You mentally note to kiss that man senseless later, before turning to face the foil-wrapped plate left for you on the table. Beneath the foil, still warm, is your favorite tamagoyaki, cooked by your husband's skillful hands.
You eat, quickly clean the two or three dishes you'd used, then scrawl a ‘thank you’ and a heart on the note before rushing off to work.
—
Truthfully, Nanami didn't actually clock in to work for the day. Ino was happy to pick up any exorcism duties he had for the day, which left Nanami with just enough time to prepare. Your birthday wouldn't pass just like any other day, because in his own quiet way, Nanami will make it special.
First, he heads into town to shop. Nanami's gift to you is simple, but thoughtful in a way that only someone deeply in love could achieve.
Next, he picks up your cake from the bakery. It's a small corner shop, the place he took you for your first lunch date, and their cakes are just as delicious as their sandwiches.
Nanami makes his way back home; it's time for the real preparations to begin.
—
When you step back through the door into your cozy home, you're met with the scent of food. You leave your shoes and purse at the door, round the corner into the kitchen, and there stands Nanami. Sleeves rolled up, apron tied around his hips as he inspects a vegetarian curry recipe on his phone like it's the gospel.
“Love?” Your voice breaks the silence in the quiet of the house. Nanami, like a man bewitched, puts his phone down and strides across the room to wrap his arms around you.
“Welcome home, my dear,” Nanami mutters into the top of your head as his hands find your hips over your uniform. “Happy birthday.”
Your arms wrap around him, your face resting against his chest. “You remembered?”
“Of course. You're my wife, you mean the world to me. Dinner is nearly ready.”
You step away, on track to change out of your uniform. When you come back to the kitchen, dinner is served. Bowls of curry, all your favorite sides, all spread out on the kitchen table. In the center? An exact copy of a cake that caught your eye through the bakery window nearly three months ago.
“Ken, how long have you been planning this?”
Nanami pulls out your chair for you, pushing it in once you're seated. “Quite a while, darling. This day is meant to be special for you, so please enjoy it.”
—
You eat. Only when you have a plate of cake in front of you does Nanami stand. He steps over to your record player in the living room, carefully places the needle. When his hand reaches out to you, when you take his hand, music fills the room. Your favorite song from your favorite album.
You could kiss him.
Together, you dance. Slowly, softly, like two fools so tenderly in love. Nanami lifts you in his arms to kiss you deeply, and you cup his face and kiss back like you need him to breathe.
—
You're tired now, but you insist on sitting down together to watch a movie. But, cuddled up against Nanami's side, you barely make it half way through the film before falling asleep. Your doting husband turns off the television, lifts you in his arms, and carries you to bed.
Now, you're tucked in. Nanami won't dare take the risk to wake you, so he climbs in bed beside you and pulls you close. And, despite your unconscious state, you hear his whispered words deep down in your soul.
“Happy birthday, my dear. I love you.”
an: holy fuck it was hard keeping this secret, especially after writing it :sob: Lia, I hope you like it <3 have a happy birthday
☆Toji Fushiguro who, after dealing with hours upon hours of your bratty behavior, effortlessly lifts you from the couch with a quick slap to your soft ass.
☆Toji carries you up the stairs to your bedroom while you straddle him, big hands gripping your thighs while you whine into his chest.
☆Toji, who tosses you onto your shared bed and smirks when your eyes grow wide and your legs immediately fall open.
“You think I'm gonna reward your behavior, baby? Nah sweetheart, you got it all wrong. Brats don't get rewarded.”
☆Toji sits back and watches as you fold his pillow and sit on it the way you'd sit on his face, your slick folds dragging over the fabric while you moan desperately.
☆Toji slowly palms at his cock over his pants while he watches you, his tongue darting out to lick over the scar at the corner of his lips.
☆Toji, when he sees that you're just about to cum, tucks a vibrator under your pretty pink clit just to watch you fall apart and gush over his pillow.
☆Toji pushes your face down to the mattress after you cum, rutting against your ass with his palm planted firmly on your lower back, his voice low in your ear.
“Good girl. Fucked my pillow like a desperate little slut? Good girl.”
☆The night has only just begun☆
an: this was super quick and not at all proofread. my wife inspired me, so I had to crank my thoughts out. hope you enjoyed <3
perma tags! taglist is open if you want to reach out and be added <3 @mannythemunchkin
JJK men x reader. Order of appearances; Sukuna, Toji, Satoru, Suguru, Choso, Nanami, Naoya, Hiromi, Kusakabe, Ino, Mahito
cw: MDNI!!, gender unspecified reader, toys used on the men, Naoya and Mahito are their own warnings tbh (reader is very mean to them <3), some of these are a little freaky, some are a bit silly
Freek'n You pt.2 (coming soon)
Ryomen Sukuna - wired vibe
“Hold still, Ryo.”
“Gah- turn the damn toy down, brat.”
Sukuna's back arches up off the bed, a broken growl ripping from his chest as you reach for the control taped to his thigh. You hit a button, but that doesn't decrease the intensity of the vibrations pulsating through the toy wired to Sukuna’s bare cock. You hit the power button.
Sukuna props himself up on his elbows, sweat beading on his brow as his crimson eyes pin you with a glare. “Why have the vibrations ceased?”
“Oh, you know,” you grin, trailing your finger from the controller to the wire that connects to the vibrating egg. The tip of your finger rubs over the tape holding the vibrator against Sukuna’s cock, causing his abs to twitch. “You told me to turn it down, so I did.”
His jaw flexes, teeth grinding together. “You bring me to the edge of release, simply to yank it away in a brattish play for control?” He's moved in an instant, two hands grasping your hips to pull you onto his lap, another hand in your hair, the fourth on your chin. “You’ll pay for that.”
Toji Fushiguro - flogger
A hiss slips between Toji's teeth, thighs flexing where they're pressed against the bed. “Ah, shit- stings a little.”
“Are you saying you can't take it? A strong guy like you?” Toji can hear the smirk in your voice. The sound of leather smacking against Toji's ass cheek resounds through the bedroom, causing him to leak pre onto the sheets below him.
“FUCK!-”
“Aw, Toji, want me to stop?”
Toji’s stomach drops. No, he doesn't want you to stop! Part of him enjoys the sting, you can see it in the way the scarred muscles of his back flex every single time you leave more red marks on the flesh of his ass.
Of course, he can't tell you that. His pride won't allow it. Toji presses his face into the pillow clutched in his arms, his voice coming out muffled and pouty. “Don't stop…”
You grin, carefully tracing the leather of your toy over his burning skin. “What was that?”
Toji looks back over his shoulder. “Don't push your luck.”
Satoru Gojo - plug
He'd whined when you slipped the plug into his rim. Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer of the modern day, whining like a bitch in heat. You coo, the tip of your finger pressing against the pretty blue gem nestled between his cheeks.
“Aw, Toru. This blue matches your eyes, baby. Didn't I do such a good job when I picked this out for you?”
Satoru whimpers, arching his back to press against your touch. His blindfold is pushed halfway off his face, leaving one sparkling blue eye exposed above a cheek that flushes more pink with each word that falls from your lips.
“B-Baby, don't tease…” gone is the cocky tone he carried with ease earlier. Right now, Satoru sounds like a man undone.
“Don't tease?” You tut, lips pulling into a mock-pout. “Aren't you the one who begged me for this? I remember, you said being the strongest meant no one could get you like this.” You press against the jewel again, prodding, teasing. “Looks like you were wrong, Toru.”
And for once, Satoru Gojo can't come up with a witty rebuttal. Now, he can only moan softly at your every touch.
Suguru Geto - nipple clamps
Just once, Suguru had told himself. He would try your clamps once, just to see how it felt.
Well, that had been a lie.
He's found himself in this position multiple times since that first night. Whether he's drilling into you in a mean mating press, or you're riding him like your soul depends on it, he's wearing the clamps on his nipples. The chain that connects them jingles delicately, the sound sending a jolt of heat to his core with every thrust.
You're underneath him again, your brain turning to mush with pleasure. You're not even thinking when you reach up and gently tweak the chain.
Suguru’s hips stutter, his body curling close to you as a moan tears from his lips. “Ahh- do that again.”
This will be a fun night.
Choso Kamo - cock ring
“You're doing so well, Cho. Think you can hold out just a little longer for me?”
A broken sob escapes Choso's lips, his teeth nibbling at his bottom lip in a futile effort to keep himself under control. Pearlescent beads of pre slip out of his flushed cock head, dripping down his shaft to pool around the ring clasped around his base.
Carefully, so carefully, you drag your nails down the straining muscles of his thighs, and he involuntarily bucks up into your touch. His hands fist the edge of the bed, legs squeezing around you where you kneel in front of him.
“S-Sweetheart, please-”
You hum softly, tilting your head to the side as you drag a fingertip up his thigh. “Please what, Choso? You wanna cum?”
Choso's adam’s apple bobs up and down, red rimmed eyes squeezing shut when he nods.
You smile, slowly, like a succubus creeping up on unwitting human prey. “Okay, baby, I'll make you cum. Jus’ hold still for me, yeah?” Your hands shift up his shaft as you lean in close, pressing a kiss to his swollen tip as you remove the ring from around his cock. Immediately, the salty taste of him hits your tongue.
Choso can only whine, body twitching with the force of his long awaited release.
Kento Nanami - blindfold
Nanami lets you tie the silk blindfold around his eyes. You push him back on your shared bed, straddling his hips as your fingers hook under the top button of his shirt.
“This okay, Kento?”
His eyes close behind the darkness concealing them. Calloused hands find your waist, his thumb brushing against your skin. Nanami's voice is hushed, like he doesn't want to break the spell over the bedroom, doesn't want to interrupt this tender moment between you.
“Yes, darling. Go on, continue.”
A sweet smile graces your lips—Kento can't see it, but he can feel it. Your fingers work carefully to undo the buttons on his work shirt, baring his sculpted chest to your lustful gaze. When those pesky buttons are out of your way, you rake your nails down his torso.
Nanami's breath catches in his throat when your hands finally reach the zipper on his pants, when he feels you slide down to kneel between his legs. “Darling?” he manages to question, his voice nearly a whisper in the quiet room.
He can't see you, of course, but he doesn't need to; the feeling of your lips on his flushed tip is enough of an answer.
Naoya Zenin - ballgag & handcuffs
“Mmph mmm!”
“What, you gonna cry? Pathetic. You whine like a bitch.”
Tears dampen Naoya’s lashes, his tongue pressing against the gag strapped in his mouth. His wrists strain against the metal keeping his hands behind his back, leaving him bare and helpless to you.
He's so painfully hard. You won't touch him—your words are the closest thing to contact he gets, degrading him in a way that Naoya feels so ashamed to enjoy.
Another bead of pre leaks from his tip, and the laugh that passes your lips goes straight to his dick. “Aw, Zenin, you're so wet just from me talking to you! Your little clit looks so needy, this must be torture!”
Unintelligible whines become muffled around the silicone gag in Naoya's mouth, probably something to the effect of him not having a clit. Really, you couldn't care less what he's saying.
You tut softly, shifting to hover your hand over his thigh like you're finally going to give him release, only for you to withdraw your hand with a mischievous laugh. Naoya whimpers, bucking his hips up to try to chase friction that simply doesn't come. Sweat beads on his forehead, his cock throbbing so hard that it almost hurts.
That's when you lean back away from him once more. Your head tilts to the side, and your arms cross. You're scolding him, and Naoya loves it.
“Call this karma, Zenin. Now, be a good whore and be quiet and MAYBE I'll let you cum.”
Hiromi Higuruma - chastity cage
The click of the little lock closing echoes against the sound of your soft breaths in the room. You step back, admiring your handiwork as your loving boyfriend clears his throat.
“My dear?”
“Yes, Hiromi?” You smile sweetly, pressing close to him to entwine your fingers in his dark locks.
He doesn't speak; he doesn't need to. After all, the cage was his idea, born from his desire to pleasure you and only you tonight. His own physical enjoyment is second to the contentment he'll derive from bringing you to the brink.
Hiromi slides down your body, landing on his knees in front of you. Your breath catches in your throat—god, he looks good like this, on his knees like a good dog ready to serve. Hiromi's hands touch gently on your knees before sliding up your thighs.
You gasp so softly when he buries himself between your legs, his mouth speaking silent legalese to the most needy part of your body.
Atsuya Kusakabe - feather teaser
When your feather first makes contact with his side, Kusakabe’s abs tighten. He squirms away, very nearly dropping the lollipop held between his teeth.
“Ah, shit- ya weren't lying when you said that thing tickles.”
“I know! Nice though, isn't it?”
You trail the feather from his side up to his chest, and to his credit, Kusakabe keeps his promise not to squirm too much at the touch of the tickling object. When the fluffy end of the teaser brushes over his nipple, Kusakabe audibly gasps, his cock twitching to life beneath his slacks.
You notice—of course you notice. You tease the feathers up to Kusakabe's jaw before moving to straddle his hips. You grind down on him slowly as the feathers move over his throat, a moan leaving both of you at the teasing warmth where your bodies meet.
With your free hand, you pluck the lollipop from between Kusakabe's lips. He protests, but his words are silenced to a muffle when your lips finally meet.
Ino Takuma - ice cube
“Crap! That thing is COLD!” Ino yelps, whipping his head around to scowl at where you stand behind him. You grin at him and he runs, something akin to a squeak passing through his lips as he bolts into your shared living room… just to collide with the back of the sofa and fall.
You laugh triumphantly, leaping the back of the sofa to land on top of him. You straddle Ino’s hips, but your boyfriend isn't looking at you.
He's looking at the cube of ice, dripping and partially melted despite the firm grip you currently hold it in.
“Babe,” he speaks quietly, not unlike someone attempting to tame a wild animal, “what are you gonna do with that ice?”
“Oh, you know…” he doesn't have time to defend, not when you smirk like a menace. Ino’s arm moves, but not fast enough to evade capture by your free hand. His shirt rides up at the bottom, giving you an opening to attack.
You touch the ice cube to his abdominal muscles.
Ino moans.
Oh, he moans. “Ahhn- baby, what-”
He knows that look, the evil shine in your eyes when you feel his cock twitch to life underneath you. You're about to have the time of your life.
Mahito - monster dildo ♡
“Nggh- ahh-”
Mahito kneels on the floor, sinking down just enough that the tip of the inhuman toy below him touches his clenching hole. You sit just a few feet away, watching with legs crossed and elbows propped on your knees.
“Come on, take more. You're a tough Curse, I know you can take it all.”
Mahito whines, but for once, he's obedient. His stitch-laden cheeks flush a soft shade of pink as his ass sinks lower, ever so slowly enveloping the huge silicone tentacle below.
Loose strands of grey fall messily across his forehead, dampened with sweat. Mahito’s cock—wait, Curses can have cocks?—leaks pre all over the floor below. The wet sounds in the room are obscene, but that certainly doesn't stop Mahito from beginning to bounce.
Your lips part as you watch, a flush rising to your cheeks. You can't remember how you got here, but this?
Is quite a show.
an: aaaa I'm so excited to have this finished! Sorry if it's ass, really I just had a silly little idea and I ran with it. Writing a reader being really mean to Naoya was therapeutic in a way I wouldn't have expected. About to put so many # on this thing ;-; apologies for that
Feed me smth please dying for crumbs of Asher Writing
Soon <3 I'm 1500 words into this nonsense BUT! halfway through Hiromi's section, then there's just a few more men after that. It's been a low motivation type of day but I'm really excited to finish up and post soon!
Here's a bit of the Nanami part, as a treat <3
(trying to finish I promise ⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄)
BASICALLY OK SO. he's. uh. a dolphin. who's pink. on festivals like Festa Junina, he comes out (wearing the hat to hide the little dolphin hole at the top of the head) and he knocks up women and then just vanishes. he's from Brazilian Folklore and basically is an excuse for when women get knocked up outside of marriage, they say: "the kid is from the 'Boto'"
♪ Face My Fears ♪ [Satoru Gojo x reader] (wc: 1,226)
cw: angst, character death, no happy ending, not proofread, canon divergent, reader gender unspecified and irrelevant
Satoru Gojo had always been hailed as the strongest. Since he was a child, there hadn't been a fight he couldn't win, hadn't been an opponent that could best him.
Not until Ryomen Sukuna incarnated.
Satoru fought his hardest, and he'd worn Sukuna down quite a bit. Deep down, he knew that he may not survive this battle, but he wanted to wear Sukuna down enough that maybe, just maybe, his students and allies could defeat the King of Curses.
As long as everyone else survived, Satoru was happy.
—
“Hey Satoru, are you scared of anything?” You step closer to where Satoru is perched on the roof of Jujutsu Tech, the tallest building. The sun is setting, pink like cotton candy highlighting the sky.
Satoru looks over to you as you sit down beside him, a snowy brow raised. He scoffs, cocky grin spreading across his face easily as he looks back out to the sky. “Me? Nah! I'm the strongest, aren't I? I don't have anything to be scared of if I can kick everything’s ass, yeah?”
“Oh, don't bullshit me.” You grin, sitting down beside him as you playfully smack at his shoulder. His Infinity isn't up—he would never put it up around you. “Everyone is scared of something, dummy. It's human nature!”
“Human nature, huh? Guess this is human nature too!” Long arms encircle your waist, pulling you onto Satoru's lap. You yelp, squirming, but can't escape as he starts to attack your sides with dancing fingers.
“AH- stop that, you jerk!” Satoru's fingers stop their ticklish attack, and you rest your head back against his chest. His heartbeat is strong, comforting in its steadiness. “You sure you're not scared of anything? You can tell me, you know, I won't tease you.”
“I'm sure. Nothing scares the strongest sorcerer, baby.”
“Yeah?” Your eyes close as your mouth pulls into a thoughtful line. Silence settles over you both, a warm blanket under the dusk. Eventually you open your mouth again, your voice soft. “I think I'm afraid of dying. That unknown, you know. Leaving you behind? Sounds like hell to me.”
“You're scared of dying? Well then, guess I'll just have to protect you so you can't. You're stuck with me now!”
“Heh… thanks, Satoru.”
“No problem, baby.”
—
Satoru is laying on the ground now. He can't feel his legs, blood trickles from the corner of his mouth, but he's smiling. He'd forgotten that day with his love. He remembers that promise, though… but how could he protect you when Sukuna had just cut him down? When the cold hands of death are enfolding his body?
Wait, no, not cold- Satoru feels warm. A soft, comforting warmth that floods his body, radiating out from the gash across his stomach. Was death meant to feel warm? He always thought it'd feel cold, like those blue popsicles he likes so much.
He's not dying. That realization slams into Satoru's soul like a train when he senses familiar cursed energy. Your cursed energy, keeping his wound in stasis so he won't die. Oh, no.
NO!
He's watching you walk past him on the battlefield. Watching as you look back at him, a bittersweet smile playing at your lips as you tread towards your inevitable demise. Satoru knows that you won't survive a face off against Sukuna.
But hey, as long as the King of Curses is held back long enough for stronger sorcerers to come, right?
—
“You okay, Satoru?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine, baby.” He's not. He's sprawled on the stairs outside of school, an elbow propped on his knee and his cheek pressed against his fist. Sapphire eyes have grown dim with the exhausted slump of his shoulders.
“Liar.” You plop down beside Satoru with a soft huff, knee touching his like it's natural. Like you belong by his side. “Shoko told me what happened. Sorry about Geto leaving, that sucks.”
“Don't apologize, you couldn't have stopped him. I just- didn't think he'd lose it like that. We were supposed to be the strongest together, you know?”
“I know, Satoru, I know.” You toss an arm over Satoru's shoulder, pulling him against your side. He goes willingly, tucking himself against your comforting warmth. He turns his face into your body, muffling himself with your clothes.
“I don't want to lose anyone else, baby. It hurt so bad.”
“Well… you won't lose me. You said so yourself, right?”
—
Your absence aches.
Not like the scar splitting across Satoru's stomach—that aches, yeah, but it's ignorable. It will heal. Your absence however? The space in Satoru's life where you used to be, only to be violently torn away by a monster with four arms? It claws. It burns, it eats away at him like acid, tearing and chewing like it wants him to die.
Like you died.
Sukuna had been defeated thanks to the students you'd helped Satoru train. Those who died in the battle were buried, mourned.
You had been buried and mourned.
Satoru keeps a happy grin on display around his students. He laughs, grins, behaves childishly. The kids need that normalcy. But every day after school, he visits your grave. He always brings the mochi you would share with him, every single day, but he can't bring himself to eat it. It tastes like sawdust in his mouth.
He sits alone in the cemetery, your grave laid out before him. Satoru's blindfold falls to the ground when he pulls it off, his body following soon after when he sits. Now, the smile fades from his face. His sapphire blue eyes look exhausted, bags forming underneath, and his shoulders slump with the weight of what he can no longer have.
“Hey, baby,” he begins tentatively. Satoru knows you can't hear him, of course—you had been effectively exorcised, your soul wasn't hanging around—but talking to you helps. So he continues. “You should have seen the kids today. Yuji took a bunch of books, stacked them on his head while Nobara chased him around the room. You would have loved it.”
“Megumi is doing a little bit better. He misses his sister, but I caught him smiling. That kid never smiles, you know that. Of course you know that…” Satoru's voice cracks. No, he can't cry, not now. Not right in front of you. He's the strongest, he can't-
A tear drips down his cheek. “I bet you're hanging out with Geto, yeah? Nanami too, probably. You jerks- you just had to die so you could have all that fun with-without me…”
Part of him expects to hear you whisper back, a teasing lilt in your voice as you pull him close and ruffle his hair. You would whisper to him, call him a dumbass, anything. He'd give anything to hear you call him a dumbass again.
But you don't whisper back. You don't whisper back because you're gone. The dead don't speak, they don't come back just because their loved ones miss them. The only thing that speaks is the howling wind as snow begins to fall around Satoru. He isn't wearing a jacket, but he's not cold. Satoru is just… numb.
A single snowflake touches down on Satoru's nose, then melts away. He wipes at his eyes, his voice shakes.
“I miss you.”
No response. Nothing but the wind, the snow. Your absence.
“I love you.”
an: first upload went bad on my end thanks to the home wifi :') anyway, i know it's the end of kinktober so lots of people are posting that yummy smut, but it's also halloween! so, i wanted to make Satoru face my biggest fear <3
Kento Nanami x gn!reader (hurt/comfort) (wc: 1,919)
requested by the lovely and amazing @caramellia-and-parental-issues ! Hope this is ok, I sort of poured my own experiences into it <3
cw: hurt/comfort, body image issues reader, gender neutral reader, soft Nanami, smut is hinted at but not described
It's just an average Tuesday.
Your husband—your strong, beautiful, amazing husband—is at work. You're at home, having woken up again nearly an hour after Nanami kissed you goodbye. You lay in bed with your eyes gazing up to the ceiling before finally swinging your legs over the side of the bed to get up.
Time to get ready for the day. You cycle through your morning routine, every boring step, and then it's time to get dressed. Everything feels… wrong when it touches your skin, every cute outfit feels like a farce against clothing.
Did your hips always sit like that?
Oh god, this shirt touches your stomach too much.
Your chest looks like a sad lump in this.
Why do you look like a bruised pear??
You cycle through much of your closet, through pieces you usually loved to wear. But today, your mind is being cruel. Today, every single thing that touches your skin makes you look horrible. Every new outfit makes you feel more and more like a pig wearing lipstick; the make-up is nice, but at the end of the day, it's still a pig.
It's noon now. Hours and hours of struggle, of your thoughts growing louder and louder as they scream that you're not enough—you give up. How could you not? How are you supposed to seize the day when looking in the mirror feels like staring down sludge?
You strip off the last outfit you had tried, pull your pajamas back on as your skin radiates shame. You can't even look out the window.
You lay on your bed, a lone blanket covering your body like a death shroud. To force anyone else to face the sight of you would be a curse upon them, so you hide away.
—
6:20PM on the dot, the exact time your husband always arrives home because he loathes overtime so fiercely. Yet today, when Kento Nanami opens the door to your shared home, he isn't greeted by the sight of his lovely partner bouncing up to him for a kiss. Odd… he slips off his suit jacket, carefully places his goggle-like glasses in a bowl beside the door. He loosens his tie as he calls out to you.
“Darling?”
No response, not even a whisper of a breath. Nanami’s brows furrow, his mouth tugging itself into a thin frown as he walks through your shared living room. He steps into the kitchen—and it looks like nothing had been moved all day. Every item or appliance is exactly as he had left it that morning. There isn't even a sign that you yourself had eaten or done anything. Now, Nanami was worried. What happened to you? Were you hurt? Heaven forbid, had a Curse somehow reached you??
Now, Nanami is alert. He passes through the kitchen with tensed forearms, turning down the side hallway that leads to your bedroom with one goal in mind; find his lovely partner, wherever they might be.
—
Your bedroom door had been left ajar. Nanami sees the crack that opens into a darkened room, and he gently pushes it open. The curtains are closed, leaving the room bathed in darkness's embrace. Nanami's eyes slide to the crumpled piles of clothing near the closet, then to the lump of blankets on the bed. He hears a shaky breath, one that rattles with the pain of a soul crushing in on itself.
So there you are.
“My love? Are you feeling alright?” Nanami takes a quiet step closer to the bed, his hand raised like he's attempting to placate an animal. “The rest of the house looks untouched, love. Are you feeling sick? Have you eaten today?”
Your shoulders crumple in on themselves beneath your blanket as you force life into your gaze, your eyes slipping over to your doting husband. Nanami is always so sweet, loving, you don't want to burden him with your nonsense. You try to force your voice to sound cheery. “Oh, Kento dear, I'm fine. I just don't feel too good today, that's all. Don't worry, I'll be up and kicking in no time.”
Nanami, of course, can see the forced light in your eyes, can hear the fake happiness in your voice. Something is wrong with his darling. He knows you're strong, but this seems different. He won't allow you to downplay your pain for his benefit. Nanami perches on the edge of the bed beside you, his hand rubbing your shoulder over the blanket before it shifts to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Now, love. I can tell that you aren't just sick, at least not physically. Please, tell me what's wrong. I love you dearly, so I'd like to help.”
“Kento…” you start softly, curling your body into the fetal position at his tender touches. How do you even start? How do you tell this beautiful man that all of your clothing feels wrong, that your body feels wrong. You breathe in through your nose, let the breath out through your mouth. Then, with a trembling voice, you speak. “I just… I'm having an off day, I suppose. All of my clothes fit wrong, it looked like I was trying to dress up a dumpster in a gown. I'm squishy in all these weird places, it-”
The words won't stop tumbling out.
“It looks ridiculous, I look ridiculous! I look at all these other people and they don't look like that. Hell, even you, you look hot as hell literally all the time. You deserve better than me, you're like a copy and paste of a god and I look like a wet towel-”
“Love.” Nanami is frowning as he grasps your shoulders, pulling you up to sit against his steady frame. You're tucked against his side, the firmness of him like a wall of protective love. “I don't appreciate hearing you be so cruel to my partner. As I recall, I married the most lovely person in all of the world.”
“But Kento-”
“No. Now, come with me.”
He lifts you effortlessly, one arm hooked under your knees and the other behind your back. He cradles you against his chest like you're something precious—you wish you could believe him.
First, Nanami carries you to the kitchen. He places you on the counter, then reaches into the cabinets behind you. He hands you a snack, something small to put in your body, then moves to retrieve a glass of water. You eat your little snack quickly, ravenous from not eating all day because depression and self hate had sucked the motivation from your bones and left you hollow.
You're scooped up again, light as a feather in Nanami’s arms. You squeak, lips parting in protest before your husband gently shushes you. “Hush, love. Since you can't seem to see the beauty in yourself, I'll have to show you just how lovely you are.” He sets you down in the hallway outside of the bathroom, then presses a kiss to your forehead before he steps into the room.
He steps out only a minute later. “The water is the exact temperature you like it. The radio is playing your favorite station, I've lit your favorite scented candle, the mirror is covered so your brain can't bully you and your favorite towel and fluffy robe are hanging beside the shower. Please, my dear, go.”
How can you argue when he's being so… soft? You can only nod once and kiss his cheek before going into the bathroom.
—
By the time you emerge, cloaked in a fluffy robe that Nanami had said makes you look like a cute little sheep, the scent of food wafts to your nostrils. Your stomach growls; the shower had somehow been relaxing enough to beat back the dark thoughts swirling around in your skull, and now it really hits you just how hungry you are.
You round the corner into the kitchen, where your husband stands over the stove. His shirt had been unbuttoned at the top, and his sleeves had been rolled up to expose his muscular forearms. A single strand of golden hair falls over his forehead as he lifts a pot of food, eyes like pools of pure love looking over to you in the doorway.
“Kento… did you cook?”
“Yes, my love, but the food needs to cool before I can serve it.” Nanami places the steaming pot off to the side, resting the hot metal on one of the little holders you'd picked out for him. Then, he's kneeling on the floor, hands splayed, fingers tracing up underneath your robe to caress the skin underneath.
“Kento, sweetheart, w-what are you doing?”
“My dear,” he starts softly, “it pains me to know that while I was away, you were suffering and struggling against a cruel mind. In my heart and soul, I see you as the most lovely person to have ever walked this earth. It's like you hung the moon and the stars— no, you are the moon and the stars. You are my everything, and I love everything about you.”
“I love these,” his fingers slide up to the plush of your thighs, rough palms sinking into the softness.
“I love this,” his hands move to the squish of your tummy, his favorite soft pillow.
“I don't care that you aren't built like me, or like a thin doll. In my eyes, the beauty of the body you're in is divine. So please, my love, allow me to worship at the altar of your divinity. Allow me to show you just how beautiful you are, my little star.”
And how can you deny him? How can you say no, when those deep brown eyes reflect nothing but love back up to you? You can't deny Nanami of this; with a flush on your cheeks, you can only nod. Nanami’s head dips beneath your robe, the fluffy fabric obscuring his head as his mouth sings devotion to your sex.
—
You'd been thoroughly tongued. You had eaten a delicious meal cooked up by the love of your life. Now, the two of you sit on the couch in your living room, you tucked against Nanami’s side while he rests back against the cushions.
You feel… better. Your husband was able to reassure you, to help you knock back the cursed darkness that sometimes wafts into your mind and makes you feel like you're not enough. You ARE enough. Every breath you take is enough, every inch of your body is enough. You look up to your husband, eyes shining up through your lashes.
“Kento?” Your voice is soft, quiet, but no longer exhausted. No longer weighed down with the overwhelming load of pain.
Nanami looks down to where you nestle against his side, a golden brow cocked ever so slightly. “Yes, my love?”
“Thank you for earlier. For- reminding me that I don't need to stuff myself into a silly box. I needed that self-esteem boost.”
Nanami closes his eyes, tipping his head back up to rest on the top of the cushion behind him. “You don't need to thank me. You're my world, and I will build you up a million times if that's what it takes to make you see yourself the way I see you.”
You smile to yourself, a tiny upturn of your lips. Your head moves to rest on the strong muscles of Nanami's thighs, and your eyes close in turn. “I love you.”
“I love you too, my dear.”
Inching towards my angst era /jk (the last time I wrote angst I made myself cry so I deleted it but I have the ability to remember words exactly so maybe I'll rewrite it and post it). I hope you enjoyed this soft Nanami! 💛
headcannon that Kento doesn't understand why you love "tears" by sabrina carpenter so much.
"I get wet at the thought of you being a responsible guy. Treating me like you're supposed to do, tears run down my thighs."
"... Darling, why would you enjoy this song? Why is she singing about being aroused at the bare minimum?"
OH MY GAWDDDD he's such a sweetheart he wouldn't be able to imagine giving any less than the bare minimum so when you explain that people actually are like that he's so cute and confused
"what do you mean some men are like that? My love, that's absurd."
