you had no malicious intention, really. but rin didn’t realize that and ended up saying some nasty things (“you’re a stupid and annoying poo-head!”) to you, which ended up had you sobbing while you explained that you were really just cleaning the ball because of the grime and dirt on it. rin ended up feeling bad and buying you an ice cream.
when you were eight, you stole rin’s glances.
he was always looking at you, and even when he was supposed to look somewhere else, his eyes stayed on you. like a moth drawn to a flame, he followed you around. he hid when he got shy, blushed when he got caught, and smiled when you talked to him. the reason for it was simple: he realized that you were pretty and nice, and so he liked you.
when you were eleven, you stole rin’s breath.
when he looked at you, his heart would quicken, he would go red, and he almost stopped breathing every time. he always found his heart skipping a beat and his breath quickening to the point where they were non-existent whenever you smiled. he didn’t understand it, it was weird. he wanted to ask sae about it, but he had already left for spain, so rin just assumed he was sick.
when you were fourteen, you stole rin’s first kiss.
it was just experimental; you had seen so many other classmates have their first kiss, and you had to admit that you felt a bit jealous. you wanted to have your first kiss too, but you wanted to save it for someone special. rin, not wanting to see you upset, awkwardly muttered that he was fine with kissing you. he didn’t know how to word it correctly, but it ended up okay in the end. you were both inexperienced and didn’t know how to kiss properly, but it was only a short and soft kiss after all.
when you were seventeen, you stole rin’s heart.
at this point, with the (unwanted) advice from stupid isagi and bachira, rin finally realized that he fell deep down the rabbit hole of being in love. his heart felt like exploding when you touched him, even if it was something as ridiculous as your fingers brushing accidentally. whenever he sees you, in all your ethereal glory, cheering for him in a game, he feels like he can score 50 more goals. the media had never seen the cold and calculating itoshi rin act like this, although the paparazzi and journalists enjoy every moment of his soft look whenever his eyes land on you.
when you were twenty, you stole rin’s virginity.
self explanatory, although rin was surprised he ever got it taken in the first place. it was an awkward first time for the both of you, and although you both had little to no idea of how the hell you do it, you both pulled through. after the session, rin only seemed to fall for you even more. even after he turned into this cold and rude soccer obsessed person, you never left him, and now you’re here, in front of him, sleeping softly in his arms after doing the most intimate things two humans can do with each other.
when you were twenty-three, you stole rin’s last name.
it was a day of tears, love, and eternality. rin’s eyes gleamed with tears when he saw you in that snow white dress, looking like the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen and ever will see. hearing someone call you by his last name, seeing you laugh and talk with his mother, seeing you holding a pastel bouquet of flowers while walking to him, they were all rin’s dream aside from winning the world cup. the shared kiss had much more experience and passion than the one from nine years ago, and you almost cried knowing just that.
finally, when you were twenty-six, you stole rin’s genetics.
okay, maybe you didn’t. he sort of gave it to you in a way…but your kids sure stole his genetics. bright teal eyes, exceptionally long underlashes, and an undeniable passion for soccer. even at 3 months old, your daughter can’t sleep without holding a soccer ball. rin has never been happier, his soccer career at it’s peak, being with his beautiful wife and daughter, and not heaving to worry about you stealing everything else, because you had already stolen everything from him.
˚⟡˖ ࣪ pairings: isagi yoichi, reo mikage, nagi seishiro, itoshi rin, itoshi sae.
˚⟡˖ ࣪ synopsis: you unintentionally flirt with them
˚⟡˖ ࣪ warnings: not established relationships, i tried my best to make it in character, suggestiveness, death threats (kinda?)
˚⟡˖ ࣪ authors note: read part one here! the rest of the characters are in the next part! btw reading part one isn't a must
rin was vibrating beside you on the couch, eyes flitting to you every now and then from his phone where he had been on the same app for the past half hour.
you had noticed him of course, how couldn’t you when he was literally staring at you with those big teal eyes like he was going to ask you if you had any games on your phone?
by the second hour, rin was batting his unfairly long lashes at you, almost pouting. you finally put your book down to look at him but he immediately looked away, pretending to focus on his phone.
“what is it?” you spoke up, “nothing.” he replied almost immediately. gosh, your nonchalant boyfriend. “you’ve been staring at me for the past hour, rin. ’fess up.”
his lower lip twitched but he still didn’t look at you. you internally sighed, “wanna make out?” you cocked your head to the side.
rin’s eyes widened momentarily before he began nodding slowly. a thick blush crept up his neck, spread through his cheeks and travelled all the way up to the tips of his ears.
you shook your head with a smile and grabbed onto the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.
your boyfriend is so easy!
a/n: yess dumbass nonchalant rin
2025-2026 — @gravelocked ★ don’t copy/modify/translate/repost to other sites. also don’t feed my work to ai.
you feel the curve of your ass collide with giyuu’s pelvis, the sound of clap! clap! clap! filling the walls of his bedroom as you bounce up and down on his cock, your hands placed firmly on his shoulders as he whimpers out in pleasure and his brows furrow while looking up at you with those deep blue eyes of his, consumed with lust despite his inexperience.
he’s never done this before, his hands shaky while kneading on the plush of your hips, his own stuttering in an attempt to meet with your pace. he wants to be the one to fuck you, to be the man and take charge. but he couldn’t, not when your velvet walls were sucking him in with so much need, fluttering against his shaft as his tip kisses your cervix every time you sink down with his cock.
he chokes out a moan as he watches the way your tits bounce and the way your face scrunches in pleasure when your head throws back, wondering just how he managed to get such a pretty girl to take his virginity, wondering how lucky he’d gotten. you mewl out as you feel giyuu’s hand reach for the bottom of your waist, guiding you up and down on his cock as he feels himself grow desperate for his own release, his cock pulsating against your walls.
“you feel so good, giyuu.”, you whine, feeling your burning pleasure build up in your stomach as his tip abuses your sweet spot along with the friction of your clit rubbing against his pelvis as you sink down completely on his cock.
he feels his cheeks heat up at your praise, choking out a whimper as he looks up at you, bouncing on his cock with your face contouring in pleasure while you bite the bottom of your lip, “t-think m’ gonna…”, giyuu trails with wide eyes and a bobble of his adam’s apple.
“yeah? c’mon, cum with me. please.”, you plea with a high pitched moan, wrapping your arms around giyuu’s neck to pull him in closer as you continue fucking yourself dumb on his cock, your pleasure on the edge of tipping over with your fluttering walls sucking giyuu deep inside you.
and with a few more thrusts of his cock and a brush to your clit, you soon feel your gummy walls clench around giyuu’s shaft over and over with a huge shot of pleasure hitting you at once, a gasp coming from his lips at the sensation and causing him to unexpectedly shoot his seed inside you as he struggles to contain his pleasure.
whining at the warmth growing in your core, giyuu lets out a breath, his chest heavy as he can only mutter an apology with shaky hands, watching the way his cum drips down your thighs and feeling his cock twitch at the sight.
choso is a firm believer that pretty girls like you shouldn’t have to do anything.
it’s not something he’s ever said out loud, not in those exact words, but you see it in the way he kneels at your feet when your evening slippers are pinching, in the way his hands steady your ankles as he slides them off.
you see it in the careful, reverent way he unties the laces of your dress at night, his knuckles brushing your spine, his breath warm against the nape of your neck.
"cho, i can do that myself," you protest for the hundredth time, reaching for the hairbrush on your vanity. you’ve just returned from a work dinner, your face aching from smiling, your scalp tender from the weight of your responsibilities.
"don't be like that," he says softly, taking the brush from your hand. he’s already behind you, his reflection meeting yours in the mirror. he’s wearing a simple black sweater now, his pigtails undone, but he still looks at you like you’re the only thing in the room worth seeing. "let me help you."
"you’re going to spoil me rotten," you murmur, but you’re already sinking back against him, your eyes drifting shut as he starts working the brush through your hair in slow, even strokes. the bristles scrape gently against your scalp and you make a small, involuntary sound of pleasure.
"that’s the point," he says, his voice low. he sets the brush down and reaches for the cloth and cleansing oil. "you're too beautiful to even lift a finger, baby."
he’s wiping the rouge from your cheeks now, the kohl from your eyes. his touch is so gentle, so methodical, like he’s polishing something precious. you let him tilt your chin up, let him clean away the day’s mask. when he’s done, he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.
"cmon, bed." he commands. not harshly—never harshly—but with the quiet authority of a man who knows exactly what you need.
you stand, your hand in his, and let him lead you to the mattress. he undresses you slowly, layer by layer, the silk pooling at your feet. when you’re down to your thin shift, he pulls back the covers and tucks you in like you’re something fragile.
"sleep," he whispers.
but you catch his wrist. you’re not sleepy. not anymore. the tiredness has shifted into something else, something warm and heavy low in your belly.
"stay," you plead.
he hesitates. "you’re tired."
"i want you," you clarify, your thumb stroking the inside of his wrist. "but i’m... i’m exhausted. but— but i want you— but i don't want to do anything—"
something dark flickers in his eyes. understanding. hunger. devotion.
"then don’t," he says. he climbs onto the bed, fully clothed, and crawls up your body until he’s hovering over you. "don’t do anything. don’t even think. just let me make you feel good."
"choso—" you start, already feeling guilty, already reaching for the hem of his sweater.
he catches your hands and pins them gently above your head. his fingers twine with yours, pressing your palms into the pillow.
"no, sweetheart." he says, his mouth brushing your ear. his voice drops, rough and reverent. "you don’t do the work. you never do the work. you just lay there, princess, and let me take care of you. let me please you. let me—" he grinds his hips down, and you feel how hard he is, straining against the fabric of his trousers, and you gasp. "—let me do everything."
he releases your hands only to finally pull his sweater over his head. you watch the muscles of his back shift in the warm light of your tablelamp, the old scars, the lean strength. when he turns back to you, he’s already unlacing his trousers, pushing them down, kicking them off.
he kneels between your thighs, his dark eyes raking over you. "open up," he murmurs, his hands sliding up your legs, pushing your shift higher. "be good for me, okay?"
you spread your legs, trembling. he’s already so hard, the pink tip flushed and wet, and he wraps his hand around himself, stroking once, twice, his eyes never leaving your face.
"you don’t even have to move," he says, leaning down, caging you in his warmth. "i’ll do all the work. i’ll get you ready. i’ll make you feel so good. all you have to do is look at me. can you do that for me, princess? can you let me love you?"
"yes," you breathe, your voice cracking. "yes, choso, please—"
he kisses you then, deep and filthy, his tongue sliding against yours in a rhythm that makes your toes curl. his hand slips between your legs, his fingers finding you already wet, already aching. he doesn’t make you ask, nor does he make you work for it. he just pushes two fingers inside you, curling them, stretching you open while his thumb circles your clit.
"that’s it," he praises against your lips, feeling you clench around him. "that's my girl. just lay there and take it. let me get you ready for my cock."
you moan, your head falling back against the pillow. he’s relentless, his fingers pumping in and out, hitting that spot inside you that makes your vision blur. you try to rock your hips, try to chase the sensation, but he stills you with his free hand on your hip.
"no, angel." he says, his voice firm. "don’t move. let me. i want to feel you squeezing my fingers while you just lay there and let me fuck you open."
you whimper, your hands gripping the sheets because he won’t let you touch him. he’s leaning over you, watching your face, watching the pleasure overwhelm you, and his expression is something almost feral. like this—serving you, controlling your pleasure, doing all the labor—is exactly where he wants to be.
"look at you," he breathes, his fingers moving faster, harder. "so pretty. so perfect. you're doing so well, baby. letting me make you cum. can you do that for me? can you cum on my fingers like a good girl?"
"choso!" you sob, the pressure building, your body tensing.
"there she is," he croons, his thumb pressing down. "cum for me, make a mess of the sheets."
you break, your orgasm crashing over you, your walls clamping down on his fingers as you cry out. he rides you through it, his hand moving slower now, drawing out every wave until you’re shaking, boneless, your hair fanned out across the pillow.
before you can catch your breath, he’s moving. he hooks his arms under your knees, spreading you wide, his hands sliding up to grip your hips. he positions himself at your entrance, the head of his cock pressing against your still-pulsing heat.
"now," he says, his voice rough with restraint. "i’m going to fuck you, and i’m going to make you cum again. and again. until you can’t think. until you can’t even remember your name."
"please," you gasp, your hands reaching for him again, wanting to touch, to hold.
he catches your wrists and presses them back into the mattress. "no," he says, his eyes dark. "be good, or i'll stop. understand?"
you nod, dizzy, your body still throbbing.
he pushes in with one long, smooth thrust, filling you completely. the stretch burns so perfectly you cry out, your back arching off the bed, but he holds you down, his grip tight on your hips.
"fuck," he groans, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. "so warm. so tight. and you’re just— letting me use you— shit—"
he starts to move, a slow, deep rhythm that has you seeing stars. he’s doing all the work—his hips rolling, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls, his hands holding you exactly where he wants you. you try to move, try to meet his thrusts, but he growls and pins you harder.
"stay still," he orders, his voice strained. "let me do this for you. you had a hard day. you smiled at people who didn't deserve it. now you just get to lay here and take my cock. that’s all. that’s your only job."
"ch-choso!" you sob, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. it’s too much, the pleasure, the devotion, the way he’s using his body to serve you. "i love you— hic!— i love you so much—"
"i know," he breathes, his thrusts speeding up, becoming harder, more desperate. his skin slaps against yours, the bed creaking, but he never lets you move. he holds you open, holds you down, fucks into you with a single-minded focus that’s entirely about your pleasure. "and i love you more. god, i love you so much more."
his hand slides between you again, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles. you’re so sensitive from your first orgasm, every touch is electric, overwhelming. you can’t move, can’t do anything but lay there and take it, exactly like he wants, and the helplessness of it, the sheer luxury of being cared for so completely, sends you over the edge again.
you cum with a scream, your walls clamping down on him so hard he chokes, his rhythm faltering.
"that’s it," he gasps, fucking you through it, chasing his own release now. "atta girl. just— shit— i-im gonna—"
he thrusts deep one last time and stills, his cock pulsing inside you as he comes with a broken groan against your neck. you feel the heat of it, the way he spills into you, marking you, claiming you, all while you lay there trembling, his hands still gripping your hips, his weight pressing you into the mattress.
for a long moment, neither of you moves. he’s breathing hard, his chest heaving, sweat slicking his skin. slowly, carefully, he pulls out and collapses beside you, immediately pulling you into his arms. he’s still panting, his heart hammering against your ear.
"okay?" he whispers, his hand stroking your hair again, back to the gentle, domestic touches.
you nod, boneless, drifting. "more than okay," you murmur. "felt so good."
"that’s the point," he reminds you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "pretty girls like you shouldn’t have to do anything."
you smile against his chest, your eyes already closing. "then i guess i’m just going to have to let you do it again tomorrow."
sigh, i know this can be seen as toxic sometimes, but...
sukuna always fixing your clothes when you're out.
pulling your top up with a big unapologetic hand when it dips too low, giving a generous view of your breasts.
pulling your skirt down and coming to stand behind you when you bend over carelessly, almost flashing everyone around you.
you can certainly wear whatever you want, he doesn't control you, but there are limits.
"you tryna give everyone a free show or something?"
you smile up at him, carefree, tilting your head all cute. "you'd never let that happen, baby."
"tch." he rolls his eyes playfully, trying to hide his smirk as he slides his arm around your waist, pride filling his chest as he scans the room, sure to scare anyone off that looks at you for too long.
sukuna doesn't like his pregnant wife doing anything that requires even just a tiny bit of effort.
"sukuna," you say, calling him to the delicate atmosphere of the dinner table. the table is packed with a delicacy — a warm pot of braised chicken with a side of buttered noodles. "c'mere already!"
sukuna stood up from his chair, his footsteps following the scent of the delicious meal... which was absolutely and definetly forbodden! his wife, doing such a thing that could potentially drain her!? absolutely not.
"did you just.." he paused, taking a big and long stare at the meal you just prepared. " do that all by yourself?"
"yes, why?" you asked, tilting your head.
"dumb woman. you're pregnant." he lectured, nudging your cheek with a slight poke.
" ..did you just call me dumb for being pregnant?" you pouted, grabbing his finger as you try to fight the urges to bite it shamelessly. "hey, if you just don't wanna eat my totally delicious cooking, then tell me!"
he scoffed, his lips turning into a playful grin as he chubs your cheeks completely out off his cuteness agression. "no, no. you're the one carrying my baby. if you wanna eat something, i'll do it," he says as he cups your reddening face with his gigantic hands.
".. you suck." you sulk, eyes full of embarrasment and determination.
he laughs as he lets your head droop low onto the crook of his necm, his arms caught in your embrace. "still, the foods going to turn cold. just saying, leave it to me next time, preggie," he teases, lifting you off his shoulder to implant a short but sweet kiss on your temple.
"preggie!? what kind of nickname is that!?" your hands find way to pinch his nose, leaving the two of you to a full night of giggles and playful lectures.
Soft!Kuna refuses to go to bed without his good night kiss
Leaving the bathroom, you hummed a quiet tune as you headed to your bedroom to find your boyfriend on the bed, scrolling through his phone. He perked up at the sound of your footsteps, his shoulders instantly relaxing at the sight of you clad in your soft pajamas. Immediately, he placed his phone by the bedside table and shifted a little to create a little more space for you.
“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, but the faint amused smile failed to conceal his affection.
Giggling, you dove for the bed, instantly going inside the soft blankets to curl beside him. you sighed, content, as you lazily wrapped your arms around his broad chest, nuzzling your cheek against his bicep. In return, he cuddled back, wrapping his arms around your smaller frame to gently cradle you.
“Night, kuna,” you murmured, as per ritual, closing your eyes.
There was a pause. Then complete silence.
It made your brows furrow, since he usually gave you a groggy reply. Opening your eyes curiously, you saw his eyes stare back at you, slightly narrowed and lips faintly tugged down into a petulant pouting frown. faint, but definitely there.
“What? What’s wrong?” you asked gently, slightly concerned as you stared up at him with those sweet, pretty eyes.
Sukuna’s brows furrowed a little more, a habit that he had when he was trying to comprehend how you could be so cute, but that was not the point at the moment—because his pout tugged a little deeper to form a deeper frown.
“…”
You raised a brow.
“…” Sukuna huffed, looking away for a moment, ears burning in a cute pink. “…nothing.”
“It’s not nothing though!” you whined, grinning at the sight of his adorable pink ears. “Tell me, tell me!”
Sukuna made a show of frowning a little more before you heard a snippet of what he was saying, incoherent.
“Huh?”
Sukuna narrowed his eyes at you before muttering it out again, “You didn’t …ive me a …night……”
You blinked. “What?”
“You didn’t give me a good night’s kiss!” he grumbled out finally, quickly, loudly giving you an irritated tsk as he looked away to hide his blush.
You stared at him, slightly dumbfounded before laughing warmly. “Aww! Kuna!”
Without wasting a time, you cradled his face to tilt him so that he was looking at you before giving him a soft kiss on his lips, smiling against his plush skin. Sukuna hummed in tender satisfaction as he held onto you a little more tighter, caressing the delicate curve of your hip.
After a moment, you pulled away to smile up at him, slightly teasing. “You know you could always initiate the kiss.”
Sukuna gave you a shrug as though trying to hide his previous humiliating admission. “You always kiss me good night first.”
You giggled, pecking his lips. “You’re so spoiled.”
“Brat,” he grumbled, before he abruptly pulled you closer to him, and laid the both of you down on the bed, burrowing his face into your neck. “Go to sleep already.”
“Good night, Kuna,” you replied back once more with a butterfly-fluttering, warm laugh, kissing his shoulder. “I love you…”
Jester!Gojo who makes you laugh whilst he's inside you. Whispering your favorite jokes and grunting at the feeling of you cIenching. Jester!Gojo who keeps the silly hat on whilst he's in you, making you giggle even harder at the sound of its bells. Jester!Gojo who whispers that he's gonna put an heir in you, if you'd like. And what a scandaI that would be...
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