Summary: Dating a women’s studies major has turned Sukuna into the frat house’s most feared feminist. Now the frat boys can’t make a sexist comment without getting a lecture, while you sit back and watch.
A/n: just fun lil thing i thought of :)
The frat house was unusually quiet, no music, no party, no sports discussions.
This was because Ryomen Sukuna was standing in the living room with his arms crossed, looking genuinely disappointed.
“Did you just call her a bitch?”
Satoru Gojo, halfway through stealing someone’s energy drink from the fridge, blinked. “What?”
“You called that girl a bitch.”
“She literally stole my hoodie after our hookup,” he shrugged him off.
Sukuna pointed at him. “And? Speak like a man. Have some respect.”
“No, seriously.” Sukuna continued. “You don’t get to call women bitches because you’re annoyed.”
Satoru stared. “Who are you?”
“My girlfriend says that’s misogynistic.”
“Your girlfriend also made you stop saying ‘females.’”
“And she was right, it’s disrespectful. Some shit incels say.”
The entire frat house collectively recoiled.
Across the room, you sat on the couch, sipping an iced coffee and watching the chaos unfold. A smile on your face, because god were you enjoying this.
This was better than reality TV.
Satoru pointed at you. “YOU DID THIS.”
You raised your coffee in acknowledgment.“Damn right.”
———————————————————————————————
The frat party was loud enough to shake the walls. Music blasted through the speakers.
Drinking games to your left, a fist fight to your right; and you were just observing from the kitchen.
And in the middle of it all, Toji was sprawled across the couch with a beer in hand.
His girlfriend was standing nearby talking to some friends when Toji waved his empty can in the air. “Hey.”
She glanced over. “Yeah?”
“Grab me another beer.”
A few people looked over.
She frowned. “What?”
“You heard me.” Toji pointed toward the kitchen. “Get me another beer.”
Before she could argue, another voice cut through the room.
“No.”
Toji closed his eyes. “…God.”
Across the room, Sukuna was already walking over.
You perked up immediately, ready for your boyfriend to set Toji straight.
Sukuna stopped directly in front of Toji. “Hell no.”
Toji looked exhausted. “No what?”
“No disrespecting your girl in front of me.”
A few people turned their attention to the potential altercation.
Toji rubbed his forehead. “I asked her to get me a beer.”
“You ordered her.”
“It’s not that serious, right baby?” He said, trying to save his ass.
Sukuna crossed his arms. “If you want a beer, use your legs, or ask nicely.”
Toji stared, “You cannot be real.”
His girlfriend was already trying not to laugh.
Sukuna pointed toward the kitchen, “Go get your own drink.”
“Or what?”
The entire room collectively leaned forward.
Sukuna grinned. “Or I’ll disrespect your face by punching it.”
You giggled. Only Sukuna could point out misogyny while trying to solve the issue with violence.
A guy standing nearby immediately whispered, “That’s the most Sukuna version of feminism I’ve ever heard.”
Toji looked around the room. Nobody was helping him. Not even a little, most probably in fear of Sukuna.
Finally, Toji sighed. “Fine.”
Sukuna nodded. “Good choice.”
Toji turned toward his girlfriend. “Sorry.”
She raised an eyebrow, suddenly she had more confidence than before. “Sorry for what?”
Toji was clearly embarrassed now, “Sorry for talking to you like that.”
“Thank you.”
Sukuna gave an approving nod. “There. Growth.”
“Shut it,” he said staring down Sukuna. “You know what? I’m getting my own beer.”
As Toji disappeared into the kitchen, the room broke into applause.
His girlfriend laughed and shook her head.
Then she turned to Sukuna. “Thanks.”
Sukuna shrugged. “Don’t thank me.”
He pointed across the room toward you. “Thank her.”
Everyone looked.
You were sitting comfortably on a stool in the kitchen; chin in hand, eating chips like you’d been watching a sporting event.
You gave a little wave.
“Kuna’s a women’s studies soldier ,” she said proudly. “I teach him everything I know.”
———————————————————————————————
The fraternity and sorority had gathered in one room to brainstorm ideas for a charity fundraiser. People were throwing out suggestions.
Raffles. Bake sales. Auctions.
Then Satoru snapped his fingers. “I got it.”
Immediately, you looked concerned, because he never had good ideas.
“We do a joint event with the sorority.” Satoru grinned. “The girls wear maid outfits and serve drinks.”
The room erupted into approval.
“That’s genius.”
“People would love that.”
“Easy money.”
Across the room, Sukuna slowly lowered the energy drink from his hand.
“Interesting.”
“NO,” Gojo yelled. “Let me have this one good idea,” he groans.
Sukuna stood. “Let me understand… the women wear maid costumes.”
“Yeah.”
“And serve drinks.”
“Yeah.”
“And what are the men doing?”
Toji shrugged. “We could do some strength challenge.”
“What kind?”
“I don’t know. Lifting something heavy.” Several people nodded.
“Classic.” Sukuna stared. Then looked at you, looking for approval to go on a rant.
Sukuna turned back to the room. “The women get assigned a service role. The men get assigned a strength role.”
More silence.
“Based on gender.”
The room collectively sighed.
Sukuna pointed dramatically. “Why.”
Satoru finally spoke. “Because that’s what people want.”
Sukuna gasped.
You smiled proudly at your boyfriend, waiting for him to call out their blatant sexism.
“PEOPLE EXPECT IT?”
“Yeah?”
“So we’re just reinforcing traditional gender roles for profit now?”
The room erupted.
“IT’S A CHARITY EVENT.”
“YOU’RE MAKING IT SOUND EVIL.”
Sukuna ignored them. “Misogyny is evil.” He pointed toward the sorority members.
“Why are they the ones serving drinks?”
One of the sorority girls raised her hand. “Honestly, I don’t want to wear a maid costume.”
“THANK YOU.” Sukuna was fully activated.
You were delighted to see how this was playing out.
“Explain to me,” Sukuna continued, “why the men can’t wear maid costumes and serve drinks.”
The room went dead silent, and you almost spit out your drink.
Toji blinked.
Satoru blinked.
The sorority sisters were stunned. “What?”
“The men.” Sukuna spread his arms.
“No.”
“Why not?”
The room burst into laughter.
“If serving drinks is easy money, then congratulations.” He slapped the table.
“The fraternity is serving drinks.”
The sorority girls immediately started cheering.
“YES.”
“MAKE THEM DO IT.”
Toji looked horrified. “Absolutely not, I’m not wearing a maid outfit.”
Sukuna leaned forward. “Fragile, typical response from men. Toxic masculinity, machismo, societal expectations.” He says pointing a finger at different men around the room.
You had your face in your hands, trying to hide your laughter. You had to show support for your boyfriend, but couldn’t handle him naming every term he could think of.
Sukuna pointed around the room. “If the costumes aren’t degrading, wear them.”
Silence.
The sorority girls were having the time of their lives. One of them pulled out her phone. “I’m ordering maid costumes right now.”
The fraternity erupted in panic.
“STOP HER.”
“WE CAN STILL NEGOTIATE.”
——-
Two weeks later, the fundraiser ended up being the most successful event in frat history.
Mostly because nobody could resist paying money to watch a group of deeply embarrassed frat bros serve spiked lemonade in maid outfits.
Toji looked dead inside.
Satoru refused to make eye contact with anyone.
Meanwhile Sukuna carried a tray through the crowd completely unbothered.
His maid outfit fit surprisingly well, as he served you a drink.
Across the lawn, Satoru was being forced to say “Welcome home, master” for a twenty-dollar donation.
The sorority was making a fortune.
Sukuna took one look at the donation total and smiled. “Look how good we’ve done so far,” he said enthusiastically.
“I’m so proud of you,” you said before leaning in for a kiss.
“By the way, I think you should bring home this costume when you’re done here,” you said; snapping the thigh high sock on Sukuna’s thigh.
“uh… why is sensei doing push-ups?” yuji asks, when he, nobara, and megumi enter the classroom.
satoru’s pushing himself up and down with one hand because, according to you, normal push-ups weren’t enough. but even then, he’s barely breaking a sweat. and he’s grinning, while you stand over him, watching with your arms crossed.
his uniform jacket is folded over the back of a chair, leaving him in his compression shirt, arm bulging and back tensing with each lift and fall of his body.
“i upset my-- hah beautiful, smart-- hah strong, gorgeous, perfect wife,” he pants, “punishment fits the crime.”
he really is right where he wants to be.
megumi doesn’t even bat an eye - this was the least unusual thing that you and satoru do. he slides into a chair with a sigh.
“how many does he have to do?”
“a hundred,” you say. satoru lifts his head to look up at you, mouth parted, little pink hearts in his eyes peering at you over the rim of his glasses. “he’s on seventy-two.”
his grin widens. “you know, this isn’t a challenge for me. why don’t you sit on my back, sweetheart?”
you crouch down in front of him and his eyes light up. “i know what you want, and you don’t deserve my touch.” you push his head down so he’s facing the floor again, and he grunts when you press extra weight, forcing his body down. “only twenty-three left. you can do it, my love.”
if his heart wasn’t beating fast enough before, it definitely was now. especially with the saccharine tone you used at the end of your sentence.
god, was he down bad.
“… call us when you’re done,” megumi says, already out of the classroom.
silly thought inspired by this video HAHA can you tell he makes me a little a lot insane
Synopsis. Jealous? How cute. He’s yours - and he’ll fúck you until you won’t forget it.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, 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, jealousy s, marathons, NÉEDY BOYS, dúmbifícation, proposals, creampíes, praise, GOJO’S POWERS, márking, they’re YOURS, true form Sukuna, dp, Sukuna’s tattoos, cervíx kíssing, fitting it, talking you through it, p slápping, p talking, ex-husband!Toji, spítting, comfort, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Wedding vows!
“Soooo…” Toji’s sneaking long, languid drags of his fat thumb up and down your sappy folds. And it makes your breath hitch, your thighs quivering just in time for him to sidle two staggering palms underneath and stretch. Wide open. “-still...jealous, doll?”
Ruining you for what seemed like copious hours upon hours non-stop, that very same question left Toji’s scarred lips in cloudy little pants like a smug mantra.
The bed was recklessly creaky at this point, splinters cracking with every sloppy pound that had your sanity doing much the same.
And Toji’s crushing you against the clammy mounds of his Herculean pecs, heaving. Gasping. So, so needy that just about all you can do at this point is bumble out an embarrassed little, “Wh-why?”
“Because m’yours, mama.” Whining as his sheeny-lathered lips snicker from right beside your tender ear, and his mushroomy tip grazes right down his favorite target of your treacly slit. Slow. Steady. “And I hafta prove it.”
Nevermind the fact that he was talking like he wasn’t your ex-husband of just a few days.
Nevermind the fact that you’re sure the pulpy depths of your poor cunt was already utterly bruised and battered with the exact bulky circumference of Toji’s proud crownhead. Because Toji Fushiguro could never dream of being with another.
He’s tugging you even more pliably into this mean full nelson of his, squeezing out a thick few dewdrops of buttery pre that lather your puckered hole. Rotund, curvaceous mound of his fattened head swirling patterned circles at your snug hole around and around-
“Don’ tell me this pretty pussy’s hngh- forgotten about me already?” He’s murking out, planting exactly three simpering swats! to your slick-flooded entrance before sinking in- “Heh- yeahhh that’s what I fuckin’ thought.”
Because your drooling cunt was always so greedy for him - your bloated pussy lips struggling and hungry being opened oh-so-widely agape. It made your slackened maw lather with a fresh wave of saliva at the sheerly raw stretch.
“Good girl- good fuckin’ girl takin’ all of me.” Toji’s huffing out, head tilting sleazily to the side to take in every inch of the heavenly bouquet envisioned right below him. “Bet ya missed me all deep inside, huh? S’that why you’re gettin’ all jealous over some rando?”
But, of course, the silent treatment never worked on Toji - and you’re finding him cooing, “Awww, c’mon my wife-” Such pointed, loving emphasis, “-talk to me. Lemme hear those pretty noises.”
And you hate the way that his rumbling baritone tilts into something mockingly higher. You hate the way that his bludgeoning tip rims around your gooey slick-filled entrance and makes your voice crack.
“T-talking about ah- jealous-” You’re managing out, and Toji’s willowy eyes widen ever-so-slightly at the way you can manage out coherent syllables even through each punctuating drill. “-but I ngh- saw the way you looked at my coworker, you green-eyed m-monster.”
He’s scoffing, spanking your overstuffed pussy once. Twice. Thrice just for good measure. “Feisty, aren’t you, mama?”
And every minute wiggle is dampered helplessly by the way that he’d curled two large forearms - muscular and veiny - around your legs to embrace you tightly. Chin rested over your head, “He was only bein’ nice-”
“And nice isn’t gonna get your hngh- cute cunt sucking like as slut like this.” Toji’s rolling his eyes, “Don’t joke with me now, doll, spread those pretty hngh- legs n’ lemme see her. No need to be shy.”
Massively engulfing hands of his crown the topped curve of your dangling knees and mold you to every one of Toji’s lecherous whims until you almost do feel shy. But there was absolutely nothing shy about the way that he was now leering at you.
Hot breath wafting with the sound of a low whistle, “Shiiiit- pretty lil’ thing, huh? Don’tcha know how much m’weak for ya? Why the fuck would I ever wan’ anyone else? Silly girl…”
“S-stop- staring—” You’re whining out, fingers tangling through the tresses of Toji’s darkly silken bangs and pulling. A blasphemous little action that earns you a heavy-handed thud of his bloated head into your soppy cervix.
“How can I not stare, mama- she’s mine, isn’t she?” And there was something in his tone, something…edged and rough- and you swear that Toji was the one that sounded somewhat jealous. Sounded gone. “And I’m yours, of course.”
Ruined every time his ruddied tip was skimming past the syrupy adhesive-like maze of your insides and thumping right into the targeted bullseye of your cervix.
He’s so hot underneath you - feverish. The ridged ladders of his washboard abs slipping and sliding a lewd massage underneath your back. And the feeling is so heavenly that you’re wondering why you ever signed those divorce papers in Higuruma’s office in the first place.
“No needa worry- M’yours, doll-” Grit out. Harsh. Punishing as much as his deep strokes were messing up your poor insides. Making sure that you won’t forget. Voice seeping with something wild, “H-heh. Divorced or not- a d-divorce which won’t last for ngh- long anyway- I got every part of ya ah- fucking memorized, y’know? Think I’d do that for hngh- anyone else?”
“E-every?” Your legs and voice are wobbling like jelly at his words.
“Every.”
As if to prove his point, he’s thumbing gluttonously over the rounded outline of where he was rummaging your sodden walls. Shooting out a few wiry spatters of pre that almost fill you up to the brim - so much of it - once he’s gliding over with a few cocky touches.
“My favorite spot s’always here-” The tremors of his recoiling bounces into your spongy womb rattle your melty mind. You feel the jitters of his thick thigh muscles when he arches into a curve up, up, up. “-knock knock.”
“S-so…” Mumbling, shit- Toji was fucking you like he couldn’t get enough of you. “-filthy.”
He’s rolling his eyes at that little comment - you like it, anyway if that warm geyser streaming from between your mushy folds told him anything.
“N’ I remember that your hngh- favorite spot was here…” Oh, you knew what he was doing - you knew exactly the way in which Toji’s dark brows would scrunch with rude delight when his strawberry divot slurs right past that magical spot. “Orrrrr…here-” Ramming resoundingly with his left-leaning girth in exactly the opposite way from the spot that only he could reach so well. Toji’s tongue pops out to lap at his sneaky dribble of saliva - he was loving this. “Whoops…maybe-”
“F-fuck-” You’re all but begging, your whimpers going straight to that forevermore bloated shaft of his. Pumping in a few horny ounces that make him grow even thicker, “-fine- fuck! Please-”
“Hm…” Toji’s tutting, bangs sticking to the plane of his prespired forehead as he shakes his head understandingly. Mockingly so. “What’s that?”
“Please-”
“Louder.”
“Please.”
He’s lolling out his tongue to lap at the salty pearls of tears beginning to waterfall from your fluttering eyes, “Say ‘please- husband.’”
The embarrassment and pure irritation curdling in your veins was strong, but your need - your throb from the wet patch between your legs, and that spot was even stronger. Shit, you needed him. “P-please…my husband.”
Ah, the words are barely spilling from your mouth, barely even reaching our own ears before Toji’s making you see white-hot pleasure flickering behind your lids. A drawling keen dragging out from your throat as soon as his curvaceous cockhead nuzzles up in a sweet, sweet hug into your g-spot.
And your ears can only thunder with your heartbeat, your spine bowing as your husband plaps his fat cock into your most candied spots over and over and over-
“One more thing.” Something cool touches your face, and only seconds later do you recognize it to be a phone. Your phone. “Tell that lil’ loser of a coworker that yer hgh- married. And-” Another deafening pap! “-expecting.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Yours, always.
“I…I’m sorry, my love.” Nanami hisses - he heaves the moment his buttery-topped tip was sinking past your puckered entrance. And there’s a dangerous furrow between his neat, blond brows, “But I can’t have ya sayin’ anything bad about my wife.”
And he was so serious - seriously in love with the way you were gaping up with spit-flooded lips when one of his thick, calloused digits massage over your eagerly peaked clit with the chillingly golden band of his wedding ring. Matching with yours.
Your fingers dig into the plane of your husband’s unfairly broad shoulders underneath his blue button-up, all rippling muscles and sheer dripping sex appeal. He hadn’t even bothered to take his office clothes before helping you…feel better. “Kento, I-I’m just sayin’ your new c-coworker is so much prettier-”
Thwack!
Only for him to cut you off with a heavy-handed spank to your treacly cunt, and a rumbling growl - rasping from beneath his stern lips once Nanami grants you with a filthy, filthy glissade of a French kiss. And you could taste him - taste yourself from his makeout with your slobbery pussy just before.
Your sticky slick lacquering his gummy lips in a candied glaze, slipping and sliding all the way down the dimpled edges of his grin, his chin, down below between his cushiony pecs-
It was like a badge of honor, and Nanami Kento gladly and proudly adorned it.
You’re just leaking from that gooey spot between your legs when he’s back to pressing peck after peck on both your lips and your cushy g-spot. Dribbles of translucent slick drenching Nanami’s tawny happy trail - and his ring.
One that’s pushed between your lecherously parted lips to swirl around that whiny cavern of your mouth, making you just shut up-
“G-gonna-” Clawing at his strong forearms, shocked that you were being halfway choked by your dear, gentle husband. “-gonna get dirty this way, K-Ken-”
“No, don’t mind getting…dirty if it’s you.” You’re hearing Nanami gasp from above you, murky pants of his shooting out in a rasping ah! ah! ah! And his droopily half-lidded eyes just bore into yours with sweet connection, “And I hate disrespectin’ my ngh- wife, this way but…but m’not gonna go easy on you tonight, darlin’.”
Fuck.
The bed sings out splintering creaks with every thud! of Nanami’s fatly bloated tip smooching up against your spongy cervix. Every bouncy bludgeon spurting out the most dewy ribbons of his precum from the very tip of his rounded crownhead. Proud and ruthless.
You can only wring your fingers through Nanami’s golden strands, unsticking stray locks from his prespired forehead. Babbles upon babbles spill from your lips, “I-fuck! Kentoooo- it f-feels so good.”
“Good, hm? Th-tha’s right-” Freely thumbing away a few puddly gumdrops of saliva that’d begun just spilling from the corners of your maw with every hit after hit-
And every clashing pivot of his toned hipbones sting, heat blossoming up your spine in this sloppy mess of a mating press that Nanami had manhandled you into. But he needed more- more more more-
“S-shoooo good, Ken- right there-” Lewd little strings of hiccups are bubbling from your chest and wafting up between the bustling fingers still toying with your mouth and making you suck. Tongue swirling up the cold engraved metal of his ring as if your favorite honeyed lolly, “Always feels so ngh- good havin’ you inside me-”
Too good.
Unable to help yourself from greedily clasping onto that dangling yellowy tie sticking to your sweat-simmered tits and pulling-
And oh, this makes Nanami gasp- free hand slamming! down onto the timber bedframe. This makes his hips hammer forward with a loudly ringing pap! Plummy, split cockhead probing into your cervix hard.
Never slowing down, never stopping- hell, he doesn’t think he even could right now.
“H-heh, my clever girl.” A kiss against your forehead. “My needy girl.” Your cheeks. Each side. “My ngh- beautiful girl- most beautiful girl in this world.”
There’s such utter and true loving in his foggy mahogany eyes that you almost feel shy. “D-don’t look at me like that, Kento.”
“Y’know I only h-have eyes for you, my love…” Accompanied by the digits rummaging deep inside your sultry mouth to reel back with a sodden plap! And dip down to caressingly pinch your plump clit, “C’mon- tighter. Mark me up. Tight.”
And there’s nothing you can do but listen to what he says.
How could you not?
Not when the ever-sensible Nanami Kento was begging - pleading - down at you to choke his velveteen tie even tighter around his attractive throat. Adam’s apple bobbing at your increasing strain, lightning bolts of veins thumping when you squeeze.
“Yeahhh- don’ be shy. Let everyone know- fuuuuck-” Bleary head falling back with every adhesive-like cling of your elastic walls - or, at least, trying to if it wasn’t for your chokehold with his tie. Nanami’s lips curl into an oh-so-feral snarl, head tilting to the side to chafe his own flesh with the ropey bruises of your actions. “-mark me up s-so that the whole office knows m’yours. And I…”
Fuck, you looked so cute fucked dumb and drooling on his fat dick like this.
Nanami’s thick muscular thighs are shivering at this point, shovelling your own further and further upon the more he could feel himself losing his fucking mind.
“And I’m gonna m-marry you.” Bumbling out over and over like a mantra now, Nanami was so pussydrunk that his rotund tip wasn’t even kissing up against the bullseye of your g-spot directly anymore. Breath hitching, “Gonna marry- hngh- needa marry. B-be your husband- and-” Just dragging out achy massages of his swollen length to lustre every gooey inch of you with layers on top of voluminous layers of his- cum? “Sh-shit.”
Because Nanami was cumming and he couldn’t stop.
Heaps of weighty ropes splatter across your elastic channel, it’s swashing around in thick masses every time he’s fucking it back deeply into you. “I love you.”
CRACK!
At this moment, you’re sure that it’s your mind splintering into a million pieces, and only many, many hours later do you realize that it’s your poor broken bedframe. Because you’re overspilling with drooling dredges of pearlescent seed and bliss when that finally pushes you over the edge, too. “K-Kentoooo-”
“Shhh sh sh- m’here Hold onto me-” he’s rasping out. Airy. Depraved. Like Nanami doesn’t even know that the words are leaving his lips. “So perfect…wanna marry you, darling.”
You can only blurt out a drunken giggle, “Ken- we’re ngh- already married.”
“Oh…then…you already know m’yours…” Nuzzling his face into his favorite hideout at the crook of your neck, Nanami’s words are almost cracking into a whine - a plea for the very first time in his life. “-body and soul.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - XOXO
“Why hello to you, too.” You flinch when Geto snickers once his sneaking fingers massage downwards to pry open your thoroughly puckered and drooling pussy lips. He wasn’t talking to you. “Wanna help me make my girl all happy again?”
And he’s humming along, throwing your pliable legs easily over his sculptured shoulders with an understanding nod. “Mmmm- needy one, aren’tcha?”
“You’re s-such a tease.” You’re huffing out, brows knitting in a way that only made the pretty man above you kiss away.
“And you’re such a green-eyed lil’ monster.” He’s purring back, a rasping growl leaking its way into Geto’s teasing words. “And as much as I love that ah- jealous pout on ya, gorgeous, better know it only makes me…harder.”
Geto’s snaking a hand to pry your drunkenly lolling head to veer downwards, chuckling at the way your droopy eyes widen when you’re taking note of his staggeringly bloated cock laid right there between your legs. Red and angry. So ready to pump the heated geyser between your legs full of his inches, that he can’t help but bawl out a ribbony string of pre smearing across your tummy. Enough so that you can almost taste it-
“What? What happened to my heh- snappy girl, huh?” Inky bangs mussing up when he’s cocking his head to simply leer. Such a sleazy look of depravity taking over all of his features, “Too big?”
You’re shaking your head - gasping, “Y-yes but I want it- want you hck! inside me so badly, Suguru—”
“Say m’name like that n’ I’ll cum.” He’s rolling his eyes, truly unabashed and greedy. With a sopping wet plap! Geto’s planting your treacly slit with a spank, only for you to be presented with the big beefy expanse of his pale forearm before you can even make a whiny noise. “Now, bite down and take it.”
You think you could sob when every long, girthy inch of his fills you up to your very brim. Bulky globular tip kissing past your gluey lips and mazing you open so widely around him, until your elastic walls were tautly stretched till you could feel every ridge, every thumping vein, every goopy spurt of warm pre that showered your melty insides.
“Heh.” Fuck, Geto’s heart just lurches with something warm at that heart-eyed cross of your pupils. Such a pretty picture. “Can ya count how many inches f’me, gorgeous?”
Ah, you couldn’t think much less count with just how battering Geto was with his mindless ruts just to fit inside. Washboard abs flexing with every push, push, push-
You’re letting go of his heated flesh with a soppy pwah! bursting from your lungs. “E-eight?” Only to be hit with a messy thud! of his thick cockhead dragging down your mushy walls, throbbing veins thumping at your tenderized spots in time with your very heartbeat. Oh. “Nine?”
“Atta girl.” The calloused mountains of his palms covet underneath your thighs and manhandle you even closer to lock them around his neck. Tighter. “Got a whole nine inches j-just for you, alllll for this pretty pussy right here.”
You can’t help but feel like a fucking toy at the merciless hands of Geto Suguru - and he’s more than happy to pliantly jerk you around until you were halfway through sobbing at the sheer pounds after pounds.
Your glossed lips can only part open when he’s punctuating each thrust with a tug on the precious hood of your clit, and Geto was always the best with his fingers. Dipping and swirling them around dexterously to make you see flashing stars, “Sugu, it- It feels- so-”
“Louder.”
“S-Sugu-”
“Ah ah- louder.” Mahogany headboard clattering against the walls, about to break. To snap. Just as much as he was right about now. “Don’ hold back any fuck- pretty noises from me. The entire ah- place hasn’t heard ya yet.”
“Mhmm, does it feel hah- good when big bad Sugu is fucking you stupid?” Leaving a sweet little pap! of his blushing red tip particularly hard into your g-spot, you swear you could taste the bliss of his bumpy veins branding into your tenderized orifices. “When ya don’t have to think about ngh- aaaany of those silly things?”
And you couldn’t worry about anything - not that too-flirty new member of the association, not your jealousy - not when Geto was fucking each and every thought out of your poor mind.
Barely even registering it even once one engulfing hand curls gently at the back of your neck to hide away your prespired face into the clammy crook of his neck. So pretty and supple when he’s guiding you to bite, “C’mon then- heh- mark me. Use me. Show off that m’yours.”
“Y-you’re enjoying this-” you’re whining, though, nosing away to pinprick littering bites that blossom and bloom, and show off even if he had his traditional robes on.
“And you’re turned on.” He’s finishing off your never-ending mewls, head lolling backwards drunkenly to give you an even bigger canvas to work with. “Feeling me all deep inside-” Splaying out a palm along your tummy to feel for that cylindrical outline of something hard. Aching. Bumping up in wet smooches into your deepest spots. “Such a possessive lil’ thing milkin’ me. I need you to fuck me. Fuh-fuck me.”
Muttering, “Ngh- should- should fuck you in front of the whole cult to l-let them know.” Your murky huffs are laced with something grumbling that makes his fattened tip twitch.
It’s only then and there that you hear notorious clan leader Geto Suguru whimper. For the first time ever in his life, breaking at the seams when your nails rake pretty red valleys down the mountainous expanse of his Adonis-like back.
Flexing and rippling and fuck-
Fuck, Geto thinks he could almost cum right then and there at the awe-strucken expression smeared all over your face. The way your lips were curling with trickling rivulets of drool and you barely even realize.
“That’s right-” He’s cooing at your nonsensical babbling like it was his favorite conversation, and you’ve never seen him so fucked. So much like putty underneath your hands as you leave marks for days. Maw slagging open with a smirk, heady lids so heavy and hypnotized that they’re practically closed. “That’s right, that’s riiiight- That can be arranged.”
Your greedy fingerpads tangle with his silken locks and jerk in shock, syrupy sap leaking sobbing between your pursed lips and forming a little ring right at Geto’s hulking base once you’re registering what he said. “Can be- arranged?”
And ah- Geto knows he loves you. He really, really loves you. Marked and yours, he’s whispering, “Anything for my girl. Because m’yours and yours forever and ever.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - “I-I’m yours…”
And not even the way that poor Choso was buried vulgarly deep into every syrupy nook and cranny of your pretty pussy would stop him from rambling those whimpering words. In fact, it was the opposite.
He was so thoroughly pussydrunk that just a few sloppy sucks of our glutinous walls makes Choso’s heaving chest stutter mid-fuck. Drooling maw falling pathetically open at the sheen sprays formulating around his swollen, rose-pink shaft.
So glossy and pretty that he feels hypnotized.
“Cho…” Only snapping half-awake once your trembly fingers dive into Choso’s slightly dampened chestnut locks. And the flutters of his long lashes are so adorable, “D’you ngh- mean that?”
“Of course! Don’t be silly, my baby–” And he can’t even believe what he’s hearing - you? The light of his life? Fucking jealous over a too-flirty sorcerer? God, if it wasn’t for the way that his breath hitches at the dewy cling of your mushy walls exactly around his sensitive underside, then Choso would’ve thought that he was dreaming. “You know you’re the ah! only one for me.”
And he meant it with every pound after papping pound of his plumpened, ruddy crownhead drawing spattered gashes into your rubbery channel.
Rubbing over one slender thumb to trailway the peak of your buttony clit, Choso can’t hold back his keening whine at just how much wetter that makes your already-slobbering pussy. Swirling pressurized gyrations over and over, he’s muttering away, “G-gonna prove it- g’na make you cum- ngh- have to- ah fuck-”
“Oh- shit- B-baby, I can’t stop-” You’re whispering at the fountained squirt of your slick flooding the sultry non-existent space between you two - you’re so responsive today, and Choso thinks he could cum just from this.
“Fuck me-” he’s dribbling through roughly parted lips, nose crinkling with utter bliss. “Fuck me- ngh- Yeah yeah yeah, milk me and make me yours, baby- only ever want you to milk me.”
You’re snickering with such utter loving in your eyes that it makes him shy. “H-heh, so cute when you’re fucking yourself so hah- deep in me like this, baby.”
He could whine, could beg your cute cunt for more. Could feel not even a mere inkling of embarrassment as his tongue lolls out like such a slut to slide glazy digits all the way into the back of his greedy throat. Dewy eyes shuttering at the sugarcoated taste of your sweet, sweet juices-
“Oh, but you sh-shouldn’t ever need to be jealous. I w-wanna…” he’s starting off with a tremoring wobble of his jutted, strawberry-pink lips. Thickly viscous coatings of saliva and your slick hanging off of them like a sticky second skin, “-wanna s-stuff my face between your pretty legs forever and ever, baby–”
And Choso couldn’t fucking believe the words were spilling from his mouth - he was supposed to be making his poor girl feel better. Supposed to be comforting you.
But these are so sinful that it makes your beloved boyfriend burn a bright blossoming red, such a pretty flush eating one the apples of his cheeks. One you can’t help but cup, “S’that all?”
Shit, Choso can feel his buttery pre coil out in a few soppy splotches that puddle at the end of your pulpy cervix, split-ended shaft making such a mess. His hefty breeder balls clench tautly at the teasing tone of your voice- dammit. He can’t cum before you.
“N-no.” Pearly white teeth sinking into his gummy bottom lip, Choso chews away as if it was his favorite candy. Trying so-very-hard to hold himself back. “Wanna fuck her- ngh-” And just one look– just one sneaking spy down at where he was disappearing back and forth always left him stupidly speechless. “-her…p-pretty lips until I…die. Think m’ngh- addicted, baby—”
He was so precious.
Tear-streaked face nuzzling the crook of your neck, dexterous fingers knotting around the bulky base of his length. And the only thing that Choso’s heavy tongue can jumble out is a mixture of your name and please- please please-
“Aww, Cho–” You’re prying his sweaty face away to gaze down ravenously into yours, and just the sweet eye contact is enough to make his skin even more feverishly blushing pink. “Are you close?”
“N-no…”
A lie - and both of you knew it.
Because Choso’s streaks of thumping veins down his sensitive cock always throbbed so much harder when it was building up. His dark lashes lacquering with a salty layer of tears, sculptured abs flexing and pulling tight when his sloppy hips pap! pap! pap! into your fleshy mounds like such an animal.
Choso has never felt more out of control - more and more like his sanity was fraying away with every bumpy nudge of his dewdropping rotund tip into your bouncy sweet spots. With every drag of your raking nails down his scalp in a way that makes him think he would fucking purr if he could-
“I…I lied.” He’s confessing like his greatest sin, one arm wrangling around your waist to smush your naked tits against his cushy pecs. Cozy. “M’gonna cum-”
“Cum f’me, Choso.”
Biting back a shrilling mewl at the lecherous use of his full name, he’s already feeling the white-hot shockwaves of his tightly teetering orgasm swirling around in his thwacking balls. Urgently latching two soft-padded fingertips onto your clit, Choso pinches-
And then you’re both cumming.
You don’t know who was first - but in the depths of your lust-filmed mind, you’re sure you tied for the hardest. Because you’re seeing ivory - or make that was just the thickly viscous globs of seed that verspilled from your knotted cunt.
“Fuh-fuck me-” he’s gurgling out, reeling you into his glimmering, toned body so tightly. Usually so conscious of crushing you with his weight, but now you’re being pinned to the soaked sheets with every ounce of him. He’s melting into you, abs against your tummy, thighs against your own, head dripping into your throat to bite. “Love you- love you love you love- love being yours. And yours o-only.”
Clingy wads of seed sloshing out of you with every sensitive buck, Choso’s still fucking you through your high. Fucking you like he can’t stop the steaming hot piles of cum being poured out into your cozy pussy until you were flooded to the brim.
And through your black-tinged vision you can make out the hypnotized figure of him dipping down two ravaging fingers to smear the clingfilm of lustrous creamy white. Swabbing a generous helping before popping them into his dribbling mouth-
“Baby, did you know curses mate for life?”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Cross my heart
“Hah- what was that again, silly human?” Sukuna’s crossing over his big beefy arms exactly how he knew you liked, and the way you’re ogling the powerful flexes of his biceps is just so darn cute. “Jealous? Repeat that f’me- for your king.”
As if you could.
As if Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just fucking you stupid right now - for what seemed like hours and hours and hours. The fat globe of his bawling cockhead drawing a few trickles of sap down your battered g-spot each and every time. Every vicious rut arching perfectly off of his luxurious throne to leave wet plap! after plap! after plap! on your poor stinging mounds of flesh.
You were supposed to be riding him - but, of course, the king of curses had to steal your thunder. Had to shut up your shrilling whines by bumping his hips into you mercilessly.
“Oi oi-” Two dark-nailed digits are slicking in front of your deliciously crossed eyes to snap you out of your cockdrunken little haze, and with a sharp snap! your pulpy cervix is being bludgeoned with three thick drags of one strawberry-ruby tip. He’s fisting his other matchingly swollen length with fat fingers, thumbing down those lightning bolted veins mouth-wateringly. “Don’t tell me yer tappin’ out ngh- already?”
Your mewls come out candied and so, so needy. Bonelessly jittery arms curling around Sukuna’s thick neck, to jerk your hips mere sultry inches down his soppily glazed shafts. “I-I’m- not- I was just…”
“And now yer fuckin’ running away.” He’s drawling out, and oh, you could tell that he was enjoying this. Monstrous mouth on his stomach spilling out a few greedy puddles of saliva at that oh-so-desperate pout on your face. Grinning. “Can’t talk but- ya can ah- run away? Where are ya going, huh? Lemme escort ya, brat.”
Before you can even blink, he’s baring you with such a feral grin. Plumpish lips pulled back to show off those elongated canines, rumbling snickers shooting out from between them the very moment Sukuna’s curling a staggering arm around the small of your back. Hard.
Crushing you against the sweat-simmers mountains of his cushiony pecs, you’re at the perfect deepened angle for his second mouth to just dote on the weep tip of your clit.
“Sh-shit-” Your head tumbles airily backwards at the roughened smooch of his oversized tastebuds down your neglected clit, so hot and greedy that it makes you see stars. Mumbles slurring with every syllable, “Kuna i-it feels so good-”
“Well, duh.” Sukuna has no qualms rolling those glowingly demon-red eyes, plumpened cock swiping copious syrupy dewdrops around and around your puckered hole. “Dunno why ya think of all this- ngh! fuck- stupid shit…Ya really think I make jus’ anyone ah- feel like this?”
You’re huffing, knowing exactly the stupid conversation that got you here. “Not m-my fault- everyone in your court is always trying to be ngh! fuuuck- a-all over you and I just got a little jeal-”
“No shit, woman.” Fuck- you should’ve expected the punishing little pinch of his plushy fingerpads around your beaded nipples. And Sukuna can only tut, “Gettin’ jealous over low-lives for ngh- what? How m’I gonna get that cute lil’ brain of yours to f-finally understand, hm?”
And it’s like he was trying to drill that idea into you. In many ways.
Sukuna’s letting a third of his massive palms pucker up your swollen pussylips. Lecherously so.
Dancing his heated fingertips up and down up and down those saturatedly puffed-up edges before letting the hefty hilt of his stacked shaft fall in a weighty smack! Once. Just enough to make you sound out a shocked yelp at the messy French snog of his second cock down your treacly slit.
Slow and languid - the complete opposite of how vigorously he was now filling you up with those exact inches. “My jealous girl- ngh- one’s not ‘nough, right? Good thing your Kuna has two.”
Yeah, his size was incredible.
Your parted lips couldn’t stop quivering, couldn’t stop streaming out geysers of cockdrunk spit at just how close you felt to bursting.
Because his girths were plugging you mind-numbingly full, thumping veins massaging in sweet little glissades down the most treasured sweet spots of your walls. Two of Sukuna’s fingers dip downwards to spread your bulging lips, using every ounce from years upon years of battle just to buck. Up, up, up-
“Sh-shit—” he’s hissing underneath his headily cloudy breath, jaw clenching at the velvety slide of himself stuffing you doubly full. And if Sukuna thought that he wasn’t handling this well, then he wasn’t ready to gaze with glazed eyes up at you. “So- tight. Look at that bulge. Feelin’ full, brat?”
Yes. You could almost sob, pulling on those bubblegum curls at the base of Sukuna’s neck when he’s only pivoting to sink in even deeper. Yes yes yes yes-
“Good. G-gonna make a biiiig mess- here-” You’re whimpering brokenly at the sharp throb of one index of his probing about halfway down your tummy, where Sukuna’s sweltering hot tips were scouring. “-maybe then ya won’t forget who’s yours.”
“M-mine?” You’re blinking your droopy eyes up at him, and shit- he can feel his regal cheekbones burn at the pretty sight.
Drooly little squelches are wafting off from underneath you after every battering ram of an innocent peck up into your goopy depths. And Sukuna only matches the slurping sounds back up above when he latches his lips onto yours.
“Kiss me- kiss me proper.” Your maw dangles open drunkenly with a prying tug from one of his thumbs, “Lick-” And it’s so fucking filthy that you can feel your slobbering pussy lacquer with another candied wave of slick, flooding between your legs and helping you slip and slide in lewd gyrations of his lap. A mess that his excess mouth gladly laps up. “Spit.”
You do - letting the gleaming thick wad splatter onto Sukuna’s eagerly awaiting tongue and lather his mouth even wetter. And you right along with-
With your orgasm taking you by surprise - fuck. Right at the moment your dripping cunt pecks his twin hilts.
You hadn’t even noticed the way it was building up and up and up- not until you’re letting your eyes sprint to the sluggish back of your head with a moan.
“I-I’m-” Barely able to stutter out, stomach piling hotly with the shockwave of your high and the pleasurably liquidly masses of Sukuna’s buttery pre. Even more as he watched you fall apart. “-cumming—!”
“I know I know, nasty girl. Fuckin’ filthy.” He’s planting heavy-duty pound after pound to permanently brand all those spots, your cervix, everywhere and anywhere with the rounded circumference of his bloated cockheads. Swiping off those miniscule splatters of remnants, grumbling - with such a content smile. “Gotta work on your h-heh aim, though. Notice anything, brat?”
Notice? What was there to notice? You muse you could barely even think - barely even breathe with the way that your mind was still jolted with your orgasm. With the way that Sukuna’s bustling cocks were stretching your gluey walls permanently open and-
Oh.
Oh.
That’s when your lust-filmed eyes see it - the tattoo. Nothing out of the ordinary to see Sukuna with a cursed marking on his tongue, but what came right after was what had you gasping…your name. Inked right on his flesh.
“Next time ya get- tch…jealous, m’ngh- tattooing your name here-” Drifting down his clawed digits from your hips and over to his own. And then up to his heart. He was dead serious. Planting your agape mouth with a sappy kiss, “-and fuckin’ ya in front of the whole court, my silly human.”
♡ INO TAKUMA - Casual?!
Sure, this arrangement with you was supposed to be casual but…one simple hangout with friends later and Ino Takuma knows you’re the only one he’d ever want to see walk down that damn aisle. He knows.
Because you’ve got your trembly legs practically padlocked greedily around the slender curve of his toned waist, your slobbery folds greedily drooling down every curvaceous inch of him. And oh, he can’t help but let off a quiet whine at the grumpy furrow in your brows, “W-wan’ more, Taku–!”
More.
More.
More more more that made his peachy-pink tip drivel out a few slippery douses of pre down your rubbery walls like your favorite sort of icing. Only adding to the complete and utter mess he’d already made-
“Are ya sure?” Ino’s drawling out, mean hips angling to skim just past the bruised and battered orifice of your g-spot. Slowly puckering up in a French kiss against your cervix, he’s catching a thumb down the eager globs of cum from just before that were now sloshing out of you. Teasing it into his mouth, “Yer already so f-full, pretty- Hmmmm, maybe we should just hngh- rest now-”
Ah, he knew exactly what would happen.
Exactly how it would only take three curls of his fat thumb up and down the lustrous layers of buttery seed that were staining your puffy pussylips for you to snap. To let out a cloudy pant of swears before planting your quivering feet flat on the plush mattress and flip the two of you over.
Ino’s leaving a stinging spank once the mound of your ass rests right up against the tight curve of his rounded balls, slobbering a glossy snail trail all over his heated skin in a way that make him groan. “Ohhh, love it when yer rough w’me like this.”
“Just one more…” He’s not even sure if you knew just how lethal that pout of yours was, fingers digging into his scalp to pull on his silky chestnut locks. And Ino lets you. Fuck- he lets you. “Want to be s-sure that next time, everyone knows you’re mine.”
Oh. Ino can feel his neat brows raising, hips rummaging upwards into your gluey depths with a mindless slam! “Holy shit. I-is that what this is- you’re ngh- jealous?” Latching onto the pivoting motions of your hips, “That’s so fucking hot.”
Indeed, and who knew that a flirty waitress would leave you fucking the sanity out of him like this.
Ino’s finding himself keening at the smaller digits of yours staking your nails and your claim all over his pretty tawny hair, his throat, his pecs. Marks upon marks upon marks-
“Hah- fuuuuck- you jus’ feel so ngh- good, baby—” you’re practically purring, jerking your hips to mush his fattened mushroom tip into your sweetest spot with practice. Up and down and Ino can’t look away. “Makes me wanna k-keep ya all to myself.”
“Oh yeah?” He’s quirking up one brow, and you can’t help but find it so rawly sexy the way he does it. “S’that what you hngh- want? Wanna keep me until ya-” Both of you hissing when he’s grazing his soft fingertips across the creamy wads of cum spilling from your soppy slit. Before pushing it back in- “-until ya milk me dry, pretty?”
He was always so mean with his mouth - but the way that Ino was arching his spine the perfect curvature off of the drenched sheets was even meaner.
Choking out through long, unsteady heaves of his pronounced pecs, “Shit, greedy girl. D-don’t know if I even can cum anymore, y’know?”
“Just one more?”
“Dammit…dammit! Ya know I can’t- ah- resist ya.” He’s tutting, “Just oooone more for m’girl?”
Deep, vulgar strokes plap! plap! plapping! against your own sloppy staccato. Vicious. Hard enough that the excess ribbons of cum smear and sludge all inside your tight entrance. It feels so completely lecherous that you don’t even hesitate before craning one set of fingers behind your back to graze over his puckered ballsack.
Tender touch making Ino’s jaw drop with a whine - a whine.
“Y-you vixen–” Soft hair splaying out across the pillowcase like a halo when he’s throwing his head alllll the way back, matching the way his eyes slide behind until all you can see are those ivory whites. “Fucking take it then, always ruinin’ me with this p-pretty pussy o’ yours.”
“S’that so?” You’re musing, teeth sinking into the tender spot right at his left earlobe. And Ino’s face is so sweaty and flushed nuzzling into yours, streaked with a cherry-red blush that looks oh-so-cute. “No need to be shy about it, Taku–”
“F-fuuuck- don’ say my ngh- name like that.” And there’s something in the way he giggles all pussydrunkenly, “Gonna make me- cum again- Fuuuck, only you could m-make me like this.”
Oh?
So very drunk off of you and the clingy smooches your sloppy cunt was leaving on his rock-hard length that he just couldn’t stop babbling. Faster. Couldn’t stop running his kiss-bruised mouth with every thwacking thrash! against your magical spots, dotting gumdrops of dangerous pre with every single jackhammer. Sloppier.
And that smile on your face is heavenly. “Say that again, baby?” But your words are devilish.
As if to whisper his deepest darkest secrets in hoarse, breaking whimpers into your ear, Ino’s curling his dextrous inches of fingers around your throat. Hauling you greedy centimeters closer until his heady breath was bouncing in warm puffs off of your features, in awe taking you in. Drooling. Blushing. Syllables drowning in embarrassment, “Only you can ah- fuck me stupid like this- o-only you…m’yours.”
“Gonna hafta let hngh- everyone know then-” you’re humming, voice so silky smooth but Ino’s ruddied cock could feel the sweltering hot gushes as you only got wetter. “-I’ll be ah- showing you off then-”
“Mhmm– yeah- yeah, whatever you say, sweetness.” He’s sighing underneath his breath when your bounces only grow more vicious. “Proper name, place name…backtory stuff.” Face drooping into the strained crook of his neck and- oh.
And then you bite him and Ino thinks he sees the gates of heaven.
With you, straddling him right then and there like the angel you are. Your needy pussy swallowing up torrential ounces and ounces and ounces of his ribbony cum. The sappy masses mixing and meshing with the already-filthy puddle that he’d made before.
There’s just so much spilling from that strawberry pink divot peaking at his crownhead, that Ino’s entire body hunches over. Sweat-dampened forehead sticking to yours, shivers sprinting down his spine to where he was maintaining a vice-like grip plugging you full of his swirling cum.
Bleeding into his words when he’s muttering up at you through long, fluttering lashes, “C-can we hold hands when we go out now?”
♡ GOJO SATORU - WEAK
“M’not weak.” He’s spitting out, long snowy lashes fluttering with every sheeny glissade of your puckered pussy lips rovering up and down his achy, overused cock. Up and down up and down up and- “So ngh- m-mark me up.”
And it was just about the only thing that Gojo Satoru wanted - the only thing he yearned for - right after proving to you and everyone else that he was yours.
He’d just finished smearing your prettily puckered lips with a thick lipstain of sappy cum, before manhandling you on top of him to ride him for hours and hours and hours. You’re so gorgeous milking his fucking soul, with Gojo’s own velvety blindfold dangling off of your neck.
Planting a long, exaggerated snog of his plump rosy lips on your sodden mouth, Gojo’s pulling away with a dramatic pout. “Wan’ to show them how the ah- strongest fucks. For everyone t-to know how well you- hngh!”
You’re proving exactly his point with a clingy clench of your glutinous walls hugging his rummaging cockhead. Slipping and sliding between his leaky mushroom tip between your saturated lips oh-so-easily with just how soaked you were.
With a stinging smack! of his slender, six-inch fingers onto the arched curve of yours ass, Gojo’s helping your bulging lips swallow up every one of his fucking inches. Greedily.
“Why?” You’re huffing out a clouded pant, hitting Gojo’s playfully loving features. Words taking on a whiny tone that you only ever saw used by your boyfriend himself, “S-so that even more girls could flirt with you when m’right ngh- there-”
Swat!
Once. Twice. Thrice until Gojo was sure that your sharp mouth was reduced to flooding with nothing but needy whines at his punishing little thwacks.
Reminding you of how he’d turned down anyone and everyone else that flocked to him.
You can only watch when he’s curling one big, beefy forearm around the pivoting small of your back. Sapphire eyes rolling up at you, “Girl, as much as I hah- looove that feisty hngh- mouth o’ yours. You think just anyone s’gonna make the st-strongest theirs?”
Before you can answer, he’s swabbing out a caramelized wad of translucent saliva, dipping down to your neglected clit and leaving off a pressurized spank.
“Silly lil’ thing. The answer is- no-” He’s humming away, like he wasn’t just driving your body oh-so-feral right about now. Prattles of praises dripping with every dousing dab of his globular tip opening up your gooey depths, “-so no complainin’ now, my girl.”
And it was so true.
With a few copious more kisses lingering on your tongue, Gojo’s blessing your tastebuds with a wet thwack! of his drooly saliva. Pecking away the overspilling spatters beading at the corners of your lips, “See how well ya take it? So no need ta get ngh- jealous, sweetheart.”
And maybe it was high time that you’re asking for a break, high time that you’re breathing in heaving gulps of air to try and organize your dazed mind.
But the only thing you find yourself doing is carressing your palms to give Gojo’s bulging pecs a good firm squeeze. Digging your nails into the plush muscle in a way that makes his nose crinkle with a whimper.
“C-can’t help it, Toru–” Head throwing back with the roaring pap! of his clammy skin sticking to yours with each bounce, you’re stuffing your snug cunt so unbearably full with his massively large inches. And it only makes you want more more more- “-you’re just so pretty…”
Oh.
“Yeah?” Gojo’s letting his head splay-out into the pillow with a woozy grin smeared all over his ruined features. One set of his biceps rippling when he’s resting it sexily behind him, the other twitching when he’s curling one finger underneath the blindfold at your neck and dragging you until you’re mere sultry inches away. “Ya think m’pretty, huh?”
Your blood curdles in your vein with embarrassment at what you’d just babbled away cockdrunkenly - what you were still babbling out. “Y-yes. Unfairly pretty.”
Fuck, Gojo was just twitching his bulked rotund tip into your goopiest depths. Still so sensitive. Earning you a low whine puffing from between his lips, and the sweetest of kisses against that tender g-spot.
“H-heh…” And if you were in a better state of mind, you’d have sworn that the great Gojo Satoru’s suave voice trembled with such an obvious crack. “M’gonna marry ya- I swear.”
And that massive diamond ring bunched up in his drawer to be mentioned later, you’re feeling the burning sting of his pampered fingernails raking bruising lines down the curvaceous arch of your spine. The sheer bend of it sending Gojo licking his lips, eyes craning to admire the bumpy pathways of his perfect work.
You’re hissing your own crescents drawing the very same thing all over Gojo’s Herculean front the very moment his jackhammers get too much. Strawberry red lines against his peachy flush. Plummy split-end probing deeply into all your treasure trove of geysers that it felt like just the slightest bit of recoil parting your gluey flesh made him mad.
“Ohhh, girl-” The smile you’re bared with is so wild - unrestrained. Showing off his sharpened canines like such an animal, drooling and gleaming with mouth-watered sap. Breaths staggering out in hot pants, “-the way you hah- stake your claim on me is sooo sexy. Because m’yours, huh?”
And maybe if this was any other time then you’re sure you’d be embarrassed at how quickly you’re hurtling into your orgasm headfirst with just those words and the bruising twang of his fingers pinching your clit.
Yet, it feels so good - Gojo Satoru was always the best at whatever he did.
And right now you can feel your throat burn with the wrenching call of Toru— your hips stuttering down into his almost-thunderously. Riotous, vicious drags to plumpen your favorite spots with the curved angle of his thick cock, so drag out your high for far too long-
But Gojo wasn’t done. Of course, he wasn’t.
Not until spearheading few determinedly roughened thrashes up into your soppy cervix with a gritted slash of his mouth.
“Yeah yeahh- y-you can handle it, girlie-” Swab after swab after swab that made your second and third orgasms cash into one. “Gotta s-suck me ngh- dry now, m’kay? Make aaaaall of Toyko lose their fuckin’ electrcity- ah- instead of worryin’ that pretty lil’ head with stupid things. Okay?” Final, heaving slopes of his thrusts- “Gotta take eeeverything th-this big cock takes like a champ, m’kay? Because it’s all yours heh…”
And then you’re milking him and you’re milking him until he’s gone. Ruined.
The strongest reduced to nothing but a lecherous mess of whimpers and feral twitches of his ruby-red tip. Flooding your poor cunt over and over with waterfalls of his creamy sap, so fucking overstimulated that he can feel his footfalls planting down firmly on the mattress. Eyes watering, spine hunching-
CRACK!
Ah, Gojo’s cracking his leaky lids open to a dim bedroom, air murky with sex and buzzing jujutsu. Exactly how he wanted it - for everyone in every ward of Tokyo to know who made him feel this way. So good. To know how he was yours.
Gojo looks up at you, cock jerking ever-so-slightly at your heaving figure straddling him and oh, he’s in love. “Let’s take out the lights in all of Japan this time.”
♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Soulmates.
“Cummin’ on my haaaah- cock for the fourth time and still not ‘nough?” And perhaps for the first time ever in his life, the ever-stoic Higuruma Hiromi sounded breathless. Words hitching into a needy lilt of his voice, “-still want fuckin’ more, greedy girl?”
Yes. The answer was yes yes yes yes - and it was bleeding into your every action.
Steadying your precarious hands on the cool mahogany plane of his office desk. Important law documents rustle and fall with every single motion of your hips pivoting backwards against Higuruma’s toned ones, wrenching out resounding paps! of clammy skin-on-skin. Saturated lips puckering up around every solid, girthy inch he could give, “...J-jus’ want you, Hiromi.”
“Hm, s’that right, angel?” Planting a sudden spank of his thick digits down onto the jiggling mound of your ass. And if you crane your head over your shoulder just right, you’d catch that simpering dimple at the end of his curling grin. “Such a needy girl- bet ya can’t stop thinkin’ about me, huh?”
And- shit, Higuruma wasn’t expecting his lovely angel to actually nod.
To let your head tumble up and downwards like you were out of control, mewling out affirmative yeses.
Without a second thought, he’s tugging the tattered rest of your tight silken skirt cleanly off. Engulfing palms smoothing over your stinging flesh and spreading your puffed-up pussy lips so wiiidely agape.
Your squirmy hips are being pinned down with one of his strong arms, and the forever-deepening angle of Higuruma hiking up a singular thick thigh. Neat black garter only digging into his supple leg muscles and making them look even bigger. “Take this fuckin’ cock now- no need to be shy.”
What a pretty sight.
Of your sheen-slicked folds struggling and yearning to take up more more more of him. Slobbering out sweltering hot geysers of sickly sweet slick that drizzle between his digits and down to that neat, black happy trail. You were so needy right now and Higuruma has never loved anything more - well, other than his love for simply you, of course.
“Not a single ngh- inch left- hah- ya really are made f’me, huh? All this for jus’ me?” He’s hissing out over the knocking thuds of your knees bumping into the wooden furniture with each pressurized thrust. But of course, Higuruma couldn’t have that- bending his legs with a grunt to lift your own boneless limbs ever-so-slightly midair. And you take it so fucking well- “M-maybe I hafta make ya ngh- jealous of overtime more often.”
You’re mumbling, “Hiromi—”
For which you’re shut up by the pads of his rounded fingertips rolling over your pulpy clit with a patterned heart. “Kidding- kidding, angel. But I wouldn’t s-say no to ya barging in my office n’ takin’ this fucking cock more ah- often.”
Pump and pump of his vigorous shaft, you feel like you can only perch your hips higher and take it.
All the while Higuruma’s babbling away pussydrunkenly like he doesn’t even realize it - and he doesn’t. He can’t. The only thing running through his saccharine sweet mind being you you you-
“Awww, nothin’ for ya to be worried about, dear–” Those overstimulated pearls of wet tears gathering at your droopy eyes are lazily wafted away by one of Higuruma’s thumbs. “M’a married fuckin’ man- not to my work. To you, my soulmate.”
“B-but–” Your lower lips juts out in a pout that makes his strawberry pink cockhead jolt like he’d been zapped with a million fucking volts of electricity. Mind too intoxicated to really even register what he said - married. “-makes me feel so lonely n’ jealous some ah- nights, baby–”
“My poor angel-” His face nuzzles into your tear-clammed cheeks, and the miniscule bristle of his five-o-clock shadow makes your trembling orifices only wetter. “-my poor, poor angel. Y’know what we can ngh- do?”
Blinking up dazedly, “What?”
“What if I…” And oh, he’s planing over the middle of your tummy, fingers teetering sensual little circles right above where his rummaging fat cock was making such a mess of your goopy insides. ‘-pumped ya alllll f-full right here.“ Just those sweetly tender words in your ear was enough to make your lips part parchedly, as dry as a desert. “N’ gave our little family a-another hah- member…or two.”
It’s as if as soon as the idea is dropped into your needy head, it’s all that you can think about.
“Wan– ah-” You’re mewling, “Want it- want it so bad. I-inside please–”
Plummeting your hips in an even sloppier slew of grinds against Higuruma’s, it’s no surprise that his sculptured skin where your ass is meeting and smacking into his is angry and red. But he doesn’t mind-
Fuck, in fact, it makes Higuruma even fucking harder. Every ounce of hot blood in his body bloating up to balloon his swollen crownhead even puffier, and he’s skimming over the sensory pads of his digits over and over your womb to feel for that nudge- that little probe of his ruthless shaft into your depths.
“Yeah? That sound good?” He can’t help but snicker in an uncharacteristically sleazy way at just how eagerly you’re nodding, “‘Course it does- my- ngh! good girl takes it all, doesn’t she?” He’s so filthy with his mouth, driving you closer and closer to the edge, even more so when he’s finally uttering. “N’ m’gonna give my all because m’yours, angel. All yours.”
He was fucking you all the way through your high like he meant it - and was driving the very message into both your gummy cunt and your stupefied mind.
Over and over in such salacious grounds of his bulky cylindrical shaft swirling into your pudgy cervix. Kissing you hello and goodbye each n’ every time until he can’t hold it in-
Can’t stop. Can’t even falter when the arm manhandling you flatly onto your front sags with the weight of his entirely powerful body. Hunching over with a low groan, Higuruma’s filling you up to the very brim. Even past that with the utter viscous volume of seed treacling past your puckered slit.
It’s so soppingly soaked that you’re feeling your thighs slip and slide past each other with every squeeze, lathered in a sugary frosting of his cum. Packed and plugged safely inside your goopy depths.
Higuruma can’t help but let his heart twist with utter pride at the way he could feel the matted masses cream and knot around his throbbing shaft inside of you. Ready to keep you locked up in here as long as possible for it to take.
Overtime be damned, he was on a mission to prove that he’s devoted - that he’s yours.
Which is what finds him sneakily tugging open the second drawer on his desk while you busy yourself trying to catch desperate breaths. To steady yourself. To fucking open your eyes after this thorough ruination of your insides - only to see something big, and glinting on your left ring finger.
A big, expensive diamond in exactly the design you’d off-handedly mentioned liking years and years ago.
Your mouth drops, and Higuruma’s crooks into a simpering smile. “If that didn’t prove m’all yours- maybe this will, my wife.”
Sukuna hated how sharp your tone got whenever you were upset with him. It was obvious too and you were the only one in the estate who could be as petty. he clears his throat before speaking, his gaze avoiding yours, “Wife.”
The first time the two of you crossed paths in two days and you looked at him as if you wanted nothing to do with him. The maids couldn’t even cut a grape with how tense the air was. Him avoiding your eyes only made you click your tongue and bow.
Moving to walk past him, he turns around just as quickly, frantically grabbing your wrist, “WAIT!”
Eyes widened, breaths were caught, and you were annoyed.
clearing his throat once more, he lowers his voice immediately, “wait. please.”
now you’re sitting in his chambers, on his large bed, your hands rested in your lap gracefully. your gaze sharp enough to make the room feel smaller, he stands before you nervously looking everywhere but at you.
“I’m sorry.” he lets out quietly, opening his mouth to continue, “I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that. when you clearly worried.”
he glances at you in between words, feeling like a puddle under the weight of your gaze, sweat beads at the corner of his temples, worried you would dismiss him, he continues. “I was frustrated and took it out on you.”
He looks up from your feet, a falter of your expression no where to be seen, he kneels in front of you, gently taking the back of your hands into his palms, “I may not deserve your forgiveness,”
his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your wrists, “But I would love it if you found it in your heart to forgive a fool like me once more.”
he dips his head into the palms of the hands smaller than his, his eyes closed, eyelashes kissing the middle of your hands as he pressed himself there, awaiting for your forgiveness.
a small huff leaves you, followed by a defeated sigh. your fingers curl into his face, cupping gently. you lift up his chin, his ruby red eyes meeting yours as they looked at you with such longing.
you find yourself leaning down to press a soft kiss to the corner of his eye, a small sign of your grace.
The corners of his mouth couldn’t help but tug at the feeling, leaning into the palm of your hand while he melts into your touch.
𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚄 promised himself that he wouldn't touch you, his newly arranged wife. but he swears that you're trying to give him a heart attack with how bad you want him, someone twice your age.
꒰ age gap (40s/20s) :: arranged marriage :: suggestive ꒱
Satoru should have known you'd be a problem from the moment you said I do.
You were nothing he expected, everything he wanted, and something he couldn't have.
He knew he was in trouble from the day you flashed him those pearly white and crooked your head at him so cutely. Fresh out of your wedding ceremony and sprawled across your now shared bed. Waiting for a man with more creases settling into his skin than years to your name.
He sat still on the bed's edge. Quiet.
"You okay?" You asked. Sweet, sweeter than his scars deserved.
"Y'know," he drawled, cocking his head to mimic you. "You're awfully calm for a girl who just got married to someone old enough to be her dad."
He should have known the clan would pull something like this. Unfortunately, he could not outrun his elders. Forty four and without an heir was a stain on their name.
And now, you're here. Sweet, pretty, young you.
Smiling at him as if he hung the stars in the sky.
"Well," you intentionally mimicked his drawl. Huh, so you had spunk?
The mattress dipped beside him. Your soft knees brushed on his thigh's side. Your hands looked softer. Delicate. Probably fragile in his scarred ones.
"I guess that's right. You're twice my age— buuuuut."
Warmth bubbled in his side as you nudged him. A smile on your strawberry balmed lips.
"You seem nice enough." A dramatic? Sigh. "Real handsome too. Wouldn't say you're pushing fifty at all."
He blinked.
You stretched, still smiling. "Experienced, attractive, rich— what more could a girl ask for?"
His brows shot up. In all of his years as the Strongest, Satoru could only count on one hand the number of times in which his breath hitched.
You'd be responsible for it becoming two hands. Three, even.
What, with the way you batted your eyes at him at the dinner table. How you hung off of him during meetings.
It was odd. Not what he was expecting in the slightest. You should feel disgusted. Or unnerved.
He was your father's age.
Hell, his hands were wrinkling.
So why. The hell. Were you more into this than he bargained for?
"Don't you want a guy your age?" He scoffed at you one day during dinner.
You arched your brow. Huffed as you fixed one of your golden hoop earrings.
"Now why wouldn't I want my lobster buttery?"
Yeah. That's when he realised you were crazy.
Or maybe that should have been only a few days after your wedding, when he walked in to the sinful sight of you lounged on the bed. Silk kissing your soft skin. Teasing.
In a baby blue. Lingerie.
"What the hell are you wearing?" His hand covered his eyes. Over the blindfold. Not that it mattered. His six eyes knew what it wanted to see.
"A surprise for my husband." You smiled.
It felt like a taunt. He slept on the couch that day.
You were a little too excited about the thought of giving yourself away to a man who had finished school by the time you were born. A little too eager to press against his aging skin.
"We're married." You'd claim.
"Am I so wrong for wanting you?"
Of course not. But he sure as hell wasn't going to let your first time be with someone like him.
Not to mention the day that you—
"Remember how I said you're suppeerrr rich?" You cooed.
Satoru stared down at you. Mapping the morning sun that caressed half of your face in the dining hall.
His arms folded, the white fabric of his haori tucking against his chest. "Yes?"
He couldn't help but drawl, amused. Because his pretty arranged wife was full of surprises.
"Well, I was wondering."
Satoru really should keep his infinity up around crazy girls like you.
Your delicate fingers surged sparks into his veins. Your softness pressed into every inch of him.
As your hand treaded his bicep, so his sanity threaded. Thinned.
Doll eyes. Oh fuck. Why were you giving him doll eyes? Stop that.
"Could you maybe. . . spare your wife a little gift?" You asked.
Sweet.
Sinful.
The devil sure was pretty.
He cleared his throat, but he was still thirsty. Starving, even. White lashes hung low over blues as he watched every inch of you.
"What do you want?" He asked.
You leaned closer than he should have allowed you to. Pouted.
"There's this new pair of shoes on the market. Real pretty. Pink. I think it'd look soooo good on me."
"Yeah? That why you married me? For my money?"
"Well I could always work for it."
Your hands traced to his chest. That's where he should have stopped you.
He didn't.
You were nothing he expected.
Everything he wanted.
And something he couldn't have.
"Sweetheart," the words dripped dark. His brow quirked. Your fingers were getting a bit too comfortable with his haori ties.
His eyes hung heavy. Voice heavier.
"You know I've got scars older than you, right?"
It was meant to scare you off. But Satoru should have known better.
Again. He should really put his infinity up around crazy girls like you.
Instead of flinching. Or wincing. Or even curling your lip— you smiled.
Fucking. Dazed.
Were those hearts in your eyes?
Your fingers fiddled with his belt. Your giggle slipped into a sigh. Too dreamy. Too sweet.
"Yeah?" You hummed.
He laid a hand over yours. Gentle, because that's what pretty things deserved. But firm, because they never listened either.
Pulling you away, Satoru shook his head with a deep sigh.
"Anyone ever tell you you're crazy?"
Your pout returned. "So is that a yes to the shoes and a no to the sex?"
"Yes."
"Well, can you call me sweetheart again, then?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose. As you hung on his arm with those big, bambi eyes of yours. Oh, he sure had his hands full with you.
She read this one out loud for me on call, y'all. Get ON MY LEVEL ( Flips hair, and immediately the wig sweeps off my head and flies onto the nearest 50 year old person and beams them with eldritch being energy )
Okay. Guys.
let me be serious rq though.
These two driving each other insane and up the wall because they both want each other however Satoru is not letting it happen and it makes you want to eat him up even more.
I’m obsessed with the Spencer and mean girl!reader!, i was wondering if you could expand a bit more and show the time she does bite back at the team for being rude or teasing Spencer?
spencer reid // plus size mean girl!reader, wc: 565.
۶ৎ a/n .ᐟ | decided to reopen my asks because the ones that you guys are sending are just too good! this fic was lowkey healing because i HATE when the team cuts spencer off.
Being able to go out all together was an incredible feat.
Most of the time everyone’s schedules didn’t align, but in this instance, you were able to catch a moment of peace.
The bar was bustling, live with people as music boomed from the speakers placed miscellaneously throughout the building.
You’re cuddled close into Spencer’s side, practically sitting on his lap as your sides touch. Spencer had thrown his coat over your lap because, admittedly, the bar was kind of cold, and your skirt was way too short to handle the chill.
You should be dancing, but you’re rather buzzed, the need inside you quelled by his slack covered leg that provided you with much needed warmth. You nursed the fruity cocktail in your hand, the sweetness a pleasant taste.
“Ugh,” Voiced JJ. “If I drink anymore, I think I’ll spontaneously combust.” Her sentence ended with a groan. Emily patted her shoulder sympathetically, though that didn’t stop her from taking another sip of her whiskey.
“Did you know that it’s scientifically proven that you can’t actually spontaneously combust due to an excessive amount of alcohol intake. It’s a myth that’s long been -”
“Spence,” JJ interrupted. “I know. I was just being sarcastic.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
Spencer’s face bloomed a normally endearing red, but this time you can tell that being cut off flustered him. Your hand that was clasped loosely in his tightened, and his body grew rigid as he felt your long acrylic nails dig into his skin.
“That was rude.” You said bluntly. That broke JJ and Emily out of their conversation.
The drunken smile on her face slowly fell at the sight of your serious demeanor. “I’m sorry?” She asked, giggling awkwardly.
“He was talking and you cut him off. It was rude.” You said simply. Spencer softly called your name from your side, “It’s fine.” He had said.
“No, it’s not fine. Even if you already knew, you shouldn’t have been an ass and cut him off.” Her mouth fell open, stunted. “I…” Emily, bless her heart, was as shocked as her.
“It’s fine.” Spencer made sure to put the emphasis on ‘fine.’
You threw a look to him from the side before pouting your pink gloss covered lips, crossing your arms. “I’m just saying.” You said dismissively, as if you hadn’t just caused a scene.
“Uh -”
“More drinks, yeah?” Emily interrupted with fake cheerfulness. “JJ?”
“Yeah, yeah…” She got up and left with her with an uneasy grin on her face, leaving both you and your boyfriend at the table alone.
“Why would you do that?” Spencer asks with a deep, exasperated sigh. “Because they’ve been working with you for years, and yet they still find it okay to interrupt you.”
“Yeah, but… If I was bothered by her cutting me off, I would have said something.”
“That’s the funny thing about it, Spence. You still find it hard to stick up for yourself, especially to people you respect. You shouldn’t just have to sit there and take it. You’re not a dog.”
You’re fully looking at him now, and he’s just… gazing at you. “What? Is there gloss on my teeth?” You run your tongue over them. “No,” He chuckles breathily with a shake of his head. “I just… thank you.”
It’s your turn to fluster at the sheer admiration in his voice.
SYNOPSIS — You spent most of your time this year shoving that part of your life away, attempting to move on, and at the expense of your own friends. You’re here trying to take this version of yourself back, to look at your friends or your college memories without thinking of him. It’s a lot harder to hangout though when you listen to them look back at it like a funny memory, and you’re both forced to revisit what you pushed back enough to forget, but never fully.
TAGS — MDNI (18 + only) nsfw. work contains explicit sexual themes and content. piv. Ex!Sukuna. Ex!Fwb!Sukuna. angst. porn with plot. Secret relationships. hurt/comfort. drinking. slight mentions of drug use. depictions of intoxication. post-college AU. fluff. spit. ráw. rough. soft spanking. degradation. dacryphilia. soft sukuna. spooning position. máting press. unresolved feelings. anger issues. alcohol. slight ooc. kinda toxic. happy ending! first published work.
WC: 11k — art by: @/inaillus on twt
a/n: MY FIRST FIC IM SO HAPPY! My design formatting is heavily influenced by @/spideyyeet’s format. (I’m so worried that I’ll miss cw’s and tags!) Anyways, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING and excuse my spelling and grammatical errors. I’m really trying to explore on my writing styles!
Sukuna and you decided to be civil after your break up. Or whatever civil means to the both of you. It was more than what you could ask for, given his reputation of not having much patience, and being someone who has been on the receiving end of that, this feels almost like a gift.
You wouldn't say you ended on good terms, between the two of you, you felt like the one who held more of a grudge than him. It wasn't a sudden breakup, it happened quietly, kinda like the rest of your relationship.
You look at him from across where you’re seated, a beer in his hand, smirking at the friends you were able to keep around you because you chose to be ‘bigger people’. They were talking about what only adults talked about, settling or something work related probably. Is he seeing someone now? Last you’ve heard of him, he's taking over the family business.
You blink out of your own thoughts and sip on your beer, the malt leaving a creamy texture only someone who's familiar with it could feel. You sigh to yourself as your college friends continue to catch up with one another, loudly passing stories of the lives you no longer share. And here you were still thinking about it quietly. The atmosphere is warm and welcoming, but something within you feels out of place. Or is it you wanting to get out, especially when Gojo mentions something about a drinking game.
Everyone internally groans, some loud yet still somehow he manages to make everyone participate, including quiet Sukuna. You almost chuckle thinking about it, he tries so hard to be serious.
You join in as well, pulling yourself off the minibar, not wanting to look more out of place than you feel. You gather around, the cool air and the bonfire in Geto's wide backyard pair up well in this nostalgic atmosphere. It's also perfect for Shoko who doesn't need to be left out now when she has to smoke outside.
You join her side when everyone forms a circle around, drink in hand. "What's he up to now?" You whisper, looking at how Gojo pulls a reluctant Nanami out of his chair.
She blows smoke out while looking in the opposite direction before looking back to talk to you. She chuckled while tapping the ash off her cig, "Beats me, he's acting like the host but it's not even his house."
"I heard that!" That yell draws attention to both you and Shoko giggling to each other. You look around, suddenly conscious of the eyes on you before the laugh dies in your throat as you meet a pair of all too familiar ones. You look away a little too fast, not even having enough time to curse to yourself quietly.
"First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who came today. I'm glad you all chose to acknowledge the existence of your college friends, I know it must be hard to be sincere-"
"Get on with it!!" Someone, who you're guessing is Geto, exclaimed from behind since Satoru continued to do the opposite.
He goes on about how it's been years (11 months exactly, it’s now June) since the last time you all completely got together. No one says it out loud but you're glad to see every close friend you've made in college here, there was probably an underlying feeling of uncertainty before each one of you arrived.
He continues with how back in your sophomore year of college, you stood in the exact same way on Nanami's birthday but while listing down predictions for you guys after graduation. You were probably too wasted at the time you participated that now there was only a faint memory of the night of Nanami's surprise party, most distinctly remembering the appalled look on his face when he turned on the light. Only to be welcomed by just half of the people he knew invited there and being blasted with a big-ass party popper.
You don't really know where Gojo's going until he pulls out a piece of paper, folded and looking a little creased up. He expected people to beam at it like he's holding a relic except his friends look at him in confusion or indifference.
"Guys! It's the list!" A chorus of sarcastic ah's and oh's emit from you all. He nods in approval of the correct reaction, "And I found some pretty good predictions here. Sooo good that I made a drinking game out of it." Now that peaks your collective interest. How bad could they be?
Hiromi, the ever skeptical heedful man he is, raised his hand and answered without waiting to be called, "Now when did we have time to list all of those ourselves while inebriated? And who's to say you didn't just list down some weird scenarios there if we don't even remember who wrote each? And I doubt we wrote our names next to them."
Gojo smirks looking around you all, you didn't wanna read into it but you felt like he stopped a second longer when he reached you before moving to look at everyone. "Trust me, you'll know who wrote it." He does a double take and raises both his thumbs before he picks up his beer from a stool.
It took so long explaining the rules that Utahime managed to make it in time, surprising you from behind. You greet her as your attention draws away from Gojo, she was your closest friend aside from Shoko within the group. You try to brief her on what's currently happening but ultimately just tune Gojo out as you got the gist of his instructions and focused on her.
Everyone gets back to their steady commotion when he and Suguru go back into the house to bring out trays of straight poison (whatever vile concoction he somehow kept prepared for this.) You lean into Utahimes side, grabbing her arm in excitement as you haven't seen each other in almost a month. You suddenly feel a lot more relaxed when surrounded by two of your best friends.
You catch up, talking about when you'll see each other again, work-life, and pointing fun at Gojo before Utahime asks more about the game so she could also participate. Shoko starts since you tuned out Gojo a little too much earlier that you also don't know all the rules, "So basically we pass around this list and we could choose to read aloud or fold the paper— and we drink if it actually happened to us, or if you’re the reader you can also not read aloud and choose to drink so you can move to the next person"
You huff, "What's the fun in that? you won't even know what was written if they choose not to say and fold it."
Shoko raises her index up, "The catch is, you have to wait for the next person to see it cause they can choose to read it out loud too or choose to fold it!"
"What if it's consecutively bad that they don’t read?"
"Then you’ll just have to pray that the person after you isn't messy, which in our friend group..." She looks at Utahime, then they both look at you.
"Ha ha, okay." You roll your eyes, a smile planted on your lips while you take another swig from the bottle. They giggle and coo at you while you feign your indignation and look away. "Don't worry too much about it, all the stuff there was listed long ago."
Utahime perks up, "Ouhh that list from Nanami's party?" You both nod or make a noise of agreement. And then you pause, before letting your own mouth run without thinking.
"Do you remember what was there?" Your brow raised in question. "Did I put anything in?"
"Shit, I don't remember putting anything either." Shoko whispered, before taking a puff.
At this, Utahime's grin spreads ear to ear, realizing she has an upper hand over you both. Your eyes squint, trying to read her face but you’re left uncertain. She giggles to herself and gives Shoko a knowing look as well. Almost as if she got the message too, Shoko laughs.
You start to feel left out, but not in a way that hurts you, just enough for you to get a little curious. "Wait, please, what is it?"
Utahime smiles just thinking about it, and waves her hand in dismissal. "No, actually it's nothing. It was so long ago already," Shoko can't help but put a hand on your back, as if trying to comfort you and control herself from giggling at the same time to avoid giving you fomo. You look at them pleadingly and she caves, "I mean, it was all during the whole Sukuna spiel, remember?"
Shoko sucks her teeth before continuing, "Yeah of course she does, how could we forget." She rubs your arm and something in you stirs.
Utahime nods, a harmless expression on her face while your insides churn. “Holy— I can’t believe you were fucking around at one point."
Fucking around, yeah. You almost forgot how it was like that, at least to them. Your smile fades into something less, not fake, just less. You straighten yourself and laugh with them, almost to stave off the embarrassment you narrowly missed.
Suddenly you're a little nervous, and your hands start to feel kinda clammy.
Just in time to fill the silence, Satoru walks in with a tray of appletinis looking hella nuclear, and what you're assuming are Jaegermeister shots. You grimace.
Just how many predictions did you all put there?
***
“Satoru hype that shit up way too much.” Shoko comments, voice loud without having to yell. Your brow quirks up when you look down at her, leaning on your shoulder as she slumps onto you.
The game started, and everyone had been reading them first, no one passing up. It got a little rowdier though when everyone started pulling up chairs and taking the shots. It starts mellowing out midway though, less competitive aside from Gojo who is still a lightweight, the air starts getting less tense for you and you find yourself enjoying the sound of everyone sharing a laugh.
You wonder what Satoru was trying to do with bringing this out. Did he want to just fuck around or catch you lacking. If so, it’s his unlucky day because you’re on a roll by the second time you choose to not share something; also second least out of anyone who skipped, by the way.
Your lips folds shut into itself right after the bitter alcohol burns in your throat. You let out a parched noise, “That’s vile.” You clear your throat and try to keep yourself from feeling the effects too soon. The game continues, and more and more does it feel like it’s easier to humor you.
Satoru finally gets financially cut off by his parents before the term ends
Geto gets caught faking results during a drug test
Shoko stops using cigs and starts vaping ‘cause she’s broke
And it goes on.
The game ends up turning into this mixture of just drinking and conversation starters. Everyone seems to have something to say with the level of accuracy events predicted had or if they counted. But this kind of vibe felt nice, like you were lighter now.
Higuruma’s up when he gets the paper, this is the 17th one now, “Ah,” He looks up and chuckles to himself. Even someone as blunt as him started reacting a lot easier now. “Nanami,” He starts, “Nanami graduates top of the class without getting laid throughout college.” He looks up with an expectant grin.
Everyone laughs at that (except the butt of the joke), some already pitching their own theories or coming to his defence.
“That’s impossible, look at him-“
“So what if he’s still a virgin?”
Nanami stands, raising his hand, but low. Everyone turns to him, commotion dying and waiting for him to either bring the tiny shot glass between his fingers to his mouth, or to stand his ground. He raises the glass and opens his mouth before pausing. Then a small smile grows on his lips, “It was the night of graduation-“
“Impossible!” Satoru yells while Nanami’s smile falls just as fast when the blur of white hair from your vision stands up from his seat. The loud commotion grows with a chorus of laughter and a constant complaint of, “That’s not counted! That’s not counted!” Nanami didn’t even try entertaining him, sitting back down on his chair and dusting his slacks.
You leave Shoko by the chair (she drank the most shots currently), before walking over to Utahime who is currently standing nearer to the bonfire. “Is the game supposed to have a winner?”
She turns, making space for you to stand by her side, she shrugs, her eyes looking a little droopier now. You continue. “ ‘cause I feel like there should at least be a loser, like who’s you know, the one most out of it first?” You both look at Satoru trying to re-explain the rules with too much passion. Your laughs stacked on top of each other, your cheeks hurt so badly from how much they stretched into a smile, but it's also numbed by the slight buzz in your system. “I think I’ve had good luck.”
A short silence follows, the cracks of the fireplace and the distant crickets creak in the trees. Utahime rubs her arms, warming herself. ”Well don’t jinx yourself,” She comments while staring at the fire, before turning her head to look at you with a cheeky glint in her eyes.
For a moment you pause, her demeanor now mirrors her early reaction when you first mentioned the list. At first, you’re curious and squinting at her. What isn’t she telling me? Before looking at the sparse number of shots left on the tray, then back at her. You shake your head, “Nah, I’d win.”
The commotion dies down and so does Satoru’s energy, seemingly taking a break when he dramatically lays back on the outdoor lounger.
“We have 4 left to read! and…” Geto looks around, noting how Shoko, Nanami, and Gojo look near done from participating. “5 left of us.” He claims, and no one protests.
The paper opens softly as Geto looks down at the list, then looks up, before looking down and contemplating to himself.
He looks at the person next to him and it’s…Sukuna. Maybe it’s the mix of four different drinks in you or you’re just paranoid and Suguru just looks like that, but his eyes look like they’re smiling for him.
A palm gently lands on your shoulder and you look back at Iori with her phone buzzing in her other hand. “Shit- it’s my boss. I’m gonna take this.” She looks at you then at Suguru, to which he nods to her in acknowledgment. It’s not long till you’re now alone with these three idiots after she leaves your side with a soft squeeze to your arm. You keep your focus back on Suguru.
You purposely keep your attention on just Suguru.
“Four of us then,” You voice out, one of the first things you kind of directed at Sukuna, and with a tighter smile on your lips than normal. Geto beckons for you to come closer and you follow, not wanting to think much of it.
Geto downs his shot quickly and your steps falter slightly on the way to them. It was a short 3 steps away but you wished your hesitation wasn’t noticeable. He’s already handing the paper to Sukuna when you stand a little off to the side, keeping a friendly distance. You didn’t notice it but the other three losers perch up in their seat and inch closer discreetly yet flagrantly watch the interaction.
You weren’t prepared to be this close to him, you realize. You didn’t know what to expect out of today but you showed up anyway. Time does really change your perception of someone, you think to yourself.
It’s weird how you were so used to his presence before, to be able to know who was behind you if your eyes were closed, and to be able to recognize the air that they brought with them. Deep down, something in you feels tight when the realization comes that your body is no longer familiar with him. You feel it in your posture, the stiffness of your spine and muscles.
You’re now gawking at him, and time feels slower than usual. You excuse yourself in your mind for being so shameless, but he looks healthier now. His hair’s still the same, his skin looks a little tanner with a soft tinge of red from the alcohol. His head is craned over at Geto with his side profile facing you, his well trained neck muscles flexing underneath his black henley top. Man, this shit was so unfair.
He’s looking away from you, but it has a purpose. You swallow the obvious disappointment that shouldn’t be there. He hasn’t talked to you today you note, but you also shouldn’t mind. What’s there left to say?
There was a very brief pause as he stared at the piece of paper, a familiar empty look returned on his face.
“At least 2 people will be taken by next year, and/or after graduation.”
It was oddly specific. But it was oddly familiar to you too, a vague memory pieces itself in your head of the words being written on paper. You’re suddenly deep in thought, remembering where you were in that time of your life. That unknown tightness makes itself known in your body once more, except this time you know exactly where it’s coming from.
You remembered the confidence you had back then, the sureness that what you had with him was concrete. The beginning that felt like a slow buildup to a solid relationship. No rush, you agreed and it felt exciting to sneak around at first. You could almost hear the thought said in his voice.
That night, you had a petty fight. He didn’t hold your hand when you tried to and you were drunk so you vented it out on paper, not caring about how stupid it would be to read sober. Or in a few years. The tightness rushed from your stomach and wrapped around your throat.
He looks up, again his eyes find yours immediately. Again, no words were shared. It was all but two seconds, but it was long enough for the last two years of your private relationship to cross the bridge between both your minds.
You note how he doesn’t make a move to take the shot.
Prick.
It was you first who looked away, but you gathered yourself like you always did. Your eyes found Geto’s behind him, ignoring the nosy audience behind you. “That was targeted.” You forced a chuckle out of yourself, the sound came up like a shield, like if you mocked it too it would mean you’re in on the joke.
Your eyes flit over to Sukuna, but whatever vulnerability you let peek through was gone, replaced by a passive, sober guard. You smile at him, an attempt to look friendly but it falls as just that, looks. A look you were able to master in the years of keeping your relationship under wraps. You wonder briefly if he ever realized that. When you face away from him, you don’t get to take in the way his jaw clenched.
The diversion seemed to work when the tension in the air dropped, your friends went back to talking with a distant ‘told you so’ muttered by Gojo before the game picked up again. As a response, you tune your surroundings out — a reward for carrying yourself through this internal humiliation ritual. You don’t spare him another glance though.
It ends with Hiromi and Sukuna as the last ones standing because you decided to sit the second to last round out; a dishonest victory for him, you think bitterly. But stopping in the game doesn’t mean you will stop drinking. You came here to have fun with your actual friends and were sick of letting this guy affect you.
It’s been almost a year already, that should be enough to move on. But it’s the same thought every once in a while. The same mantra you repeat to yourself when you down the last of the leftover appletini shots with Shoko, Utahime, and Gojo.
“Oh you should’ve seen the look on her face, Hime. She just smirked and was all like,” She copies how your head turned, “It was cold as fuck.” Shoko slurred, putting an arm around your shoulders. You roll your eyes with a lazy smile. “Whatever bro.”
“No! Seriously, we thought it was really bad back then but-.” She looks over at you to gauge if you’ll react violently in private but you don’t. Your eyes are hazy and calm, effectively numbed by the alcohol enough for it to be sincere.
Gojo, impatient, completed the sentence. “—Just that we thought you guys were going out forreal.” You hate how that easily sobers you up, again. Even if it's only for a split second, you wanted to stop flinching at even the thought of how embarrassing that experience was. How crazy you had felt back then.
You don’t say anything, you just let out an awkward chuckle. It’s missed by them though, the sound overlaps with your friends talking over it as they’re adding to the joke.
Shortly after, Shoko and Utahime retire upstairs to the room they’ll be crashing at Geto’s house. Its a big enough place with 2 other guest rooms but you really weren’t planning on staying the night despite your lack of ability to walk in a straight line.
Even Gojo settled on the couch back inside while Higuruma was sober enough to drive Nanami off as well. You said your goodbyes to each other despite only talking briefly, then turned to try and help clean up, but a rough hand stops you before you stuff another pizza box into the garbage bag you found.
“I can’t let a guest do the cleaning, go to your room.”Geto smiled, he was evidently more sober than you.
You shake your head, slower than you could earlier. “Nope, gotta compensate ‘cause I won’t be able to hang tomorrow.” He takes the garbage bag still, looking down at you with a jutted lip. Before he asks why, you interrupt. “Have t’a finish some work — Going home.” You smile, nodding your head. He squints at you, not quite understanding. You straighten yourself up and pull out your phone, the loading screen in your app already looking for a driver.
“I’m uh, Uber.”You try reassuring him with another unconvincing smile while tucking the device in your back pocket.
“I don’t know how I feel about you going home at two a.m., alone.” He raised his brows as he emphasized the last word, “It’s definitely not safe and you’re drunk.” It was a short back and forth, you slowly losing interest in explaining and wanting to get into the car of —you open up your phone— Jose who’s 8 minutes away.
When he continues on his rant on safety and not trusting you to call him when you get home, you make a face at him, unable to control yourself. You push again, trying to clarify, “I do this all the time after my office parties-“
“-That’s dumb.”
Your shoulders slump, running out of options to convince him. Before you could help it, “What are you gonna do, drive me?” Suguru scoffed at your words, it was obvious what his answer would be already as he was also struggling to stand upright fully.
A beat passes, his eyes scanning the backyard when he zeroes on a rosette head of hair, bidding his goodbyes by the sliding door to a knocked out Gojo, keys in hand.
***
You were gonna kill Suguru.
Your head scrambled to explain how you allowed yourself to get to this position, but he’s already circling the front to reach the driver’s side. You feel his gaze past the windshield, blatant, intruding.
If worse comes to worst, you’ll throw yourself out of the moving car and roll out of the door if it means saving yourself from real danger.
The thrum of Sukuna’s black Hellcat was unpleasantly familiar. The red interior still looked new, but the passenger seat molded well to your body like a pair of old jeans. But the smell is different now, he used to have this cheap citrusy scented air freshener that hung from the mirror (courtesy of the former owner), obstructing his view. It's now replaced by a light charcoal freshener clipped on a vent.
“You should really get rid of that thing, it’s dangerous y’know?” Of course the first thing you say about his car isn’t a compliment. He rolls his eyes at how typical it was of you.
“Why?” He slides in and shuts the door gently, like second nature, he doesn’t bother with a seatbelt. “Worried I’ll get into an accident?” He asks, left hand finding the wheel.
“Sure, but it’s similarly distracting for the air to smell like 20 fluorescent orange peels.” He laughs lightly followed by a nod, agreeing. He’s generous enough to roll the windows down halfway.
A beat passes, “And yes, you should also be more careful now that you’re driving me home.”
The door shuts, snapping you out of your lingering thoughts, the ticking from the hazard lights cease as he rolls out of the driveway. You’re quick to pull out your phone, head down. At least now you know it's going to be a mix of dry and windy tomorrow.
You know there’s no right way to act and dread is now backing you into a two seater sports car until you confront it. It catches up to you, in the form of the unwavering presence of his body right next to you.
There isn’t possibly enough space in this car for both you and your thoughts. You turn your phone off, internally scoffing at yourself for trying to play non-chalant, opting to just look out the window but it’s hard to see it through your bleary eyes since it’s tinted.
You close them instead, thinking of a place outside of your own consciousness, outside of here. For a moment, you’re able to achieve peace when you’re actively pushing down thoughts of him, nothing but the muted sounds of cars passing by and the faint breeze gently caressing your cheeks. You open your eyes and realize the window has been rolled down for you.
Slowly, your head turns without thinking, he’s still set on the road with both hands tightly on the wheel, you note.
On the highway when you feel the car speed up, your body slightly surges forward when you’re nearing a slower area, your hand instinctively reaching for the glove compartment to brace. He cleared his throat beside you, and you loosen your grip. You look down, realizing you’re holding onto his forearm while his hand is on the gear shift. Stupid manual car.
You’re quick to pull off him and awkwardly put your hands on your lap. “Sorry.” You mutter, your face warm.
He replies, similarly strained, “ ‘s okay.” It’s strange hearing his voice like that. Maybe it’s strange to hear overall since it’s been forever since it’s been directed at you. He had always been the picture of confidence to you, a natural cadence for smooth talking and sureness. You don’t know what to feel. No, scratch that, you know what you’re feeling.
It’s getting harder to swallow your pride when memories and these feelings that you never had the chance to confront felt like bile rising from your throat.
“You really won’t talk to me?”
And there it is, that confidence finding its footing. It makes you sick how it’s so easy for him to take your silence as reluctance, though it actually is. You hate how he doesn’t spare a second to think before acting on his impulse to speak to you when you spend plenty.
A beat, and nothing from you. He scoffed, you can feel him adjust his seating in a more relaxed manner. He’s about to add when, “You cheater.”
You hear the scrunch of his pants on the leather interior pause, “What the fuck?” He muttered, low, offended at your words.
You turn to him, arms crossed over, on guard. “In the game, dumbass.” You deadpanned, matching his vulgarity. His eyes flick to you and then on the road, now one handed as he scratches his jaw, a light stubble growing underneath.
“A year later and that’s all you have to say?” he grunts, thick brows scrunched, his piercing tugged by the movement.
“Yes.” You voice out sternly, a newfound stubbornness arises from your half drunk mind.
“You were always a brat.”
“At least I don’t care what others think of me.” You mumble like a petulant child. He makes a face, gaze flicking on the rear view mirror.
He scoffed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh Ryo I think out of everyone,” He meets your eyes at the nickname, “You would know what I’m talking about.”
Something stirs in him, the way his name sounded coming from you wasn’t new, but it’s now stripped from any warmth that used to always come with it. “You know I had to.”
It’s your turn to scoff, “Yeah even after everything, it just has to go your way.” There’s a shift in the air, the car picks up its speed, accelerating but you don’t flinch.
“You’re not making sense to me right now.” He’s quick when moving the shift to 4th gear. Your eyes flit over to the dashboard 65,66…,70 kilometers per hour, “Sukuna-“
He slows down, moving back to 3rd gear when you’re approaching a new set of traffic, then he breaks early. You jolted forward, his arm coming up to block you by your stomach. Your eyes are wide and piercing at the windshield, “What is wrong with you?!”
He shook his head, unphased by the forces that just came onto your bodies. “You broke up with me,” he emphasized on ‘you’. Like saying that meant it justified how he made you feel after, your face twists in distaste.
“Oh so now we’re talking about it.” You’re looking down at his arm, he’s big, like bigger than it was when you were both in college. It’s a drunk thought you wanna ignore but it’s imposing. You don’t think of it because you’re dissecting how attractive he looks but it’s despite how he could overpower you, how typically you shouldn’t feel safe around a big man with anger issues and a fast car, you aren’t scared. Your safety is regretfully the farthest thing from the thoughts running through your brain right now.
When you pick up your head he’s already looking at you, the red light casts on his face, you can see everything now. The bump of his nose, the fleck of red on his irises, the way his monolids looked slightly hooded.
How can someone draw you in and simultaneously make you want to run far away? He doesn't make a move to detach himself from you. You try to shove him away, looking back at the still red light, then back at him. You push, he doesn’t budge. “Hey-“
“You ran from me, not the other way around.” Your lips part, you think you’re about to say something or scoff, but you can’t bring yourself to utter a sound.
“You don’t get to hold a grudge and make it sound like I was the one that left when you said you didn’t picture us like that.” A chill runs itself on your spine as he repeats verbatim what you said, a cold look on his expression. “Whatever that fucking meant,” He mumbled, arranging himself back on the drivers side, rolling the windows back up.
This was unfair, this was singling you out. But technically, he was right. You broke up with him and you never reached out after. But it wasn’t all your fault, that’s what you wanted to say. Despite everything you agreed to, it was out of how deeply you had felt for him.
You trusted him that he wanted you just as much, but in time, you wanted more. But were you so wrong to want more than to be someone he came home to — without bothering to even so much as say hi to you around others? Were you wrong to not want to look like he just kept you around long enough ‘cause you’re a decent fuck? You swallow the words you couldn’t say, tongue thick in your mouth.
It feels like you could breathe again when he pulled himself off you, but comfort doesn’t return immediately. The car moves forward and you’re back to sinking in your own pool of thoughts, completely disassociating.
Sukuna looks back at you, noting how you’ve completely sunk back to your seat. You, who he remembered as someone so fired up and just earlier was laughing loudly, your presence now damp and the look in your eyes empty with all but 20 minutes alone with him. But he says nothing, his eyes on the road knowing he can never get it quite right when it comes to telling you how he felt.
The road starts to make familiar turns, until the drive ultimately comes to a stop, slowing down in front of your apartment complex. You move around, making sure you have your bag and keys with you. When you held them in your hands, it still felt like you were leaving something behind.
Your fingers ghost over the door lock, knowing if you flicked it open it would mean being obnoxiously loud in the silence. You don’t know how long you sat there, and he doesn’t unlock the door for you either. The thought that he’s letting you decide what comes next puts more pressure on you than you’d like to admit is actually there.
“Were you—” It comes out hoarse with your voice high, your throat feels dry too. “I didn’t break up with you because I didn’t see you in my future.” He shifts, but you don’t even think of moving, tightly clutching your bag on your lap. “I didn’t think you did.”
He’s quiet, allowing you to continue until you choose to let it settle. “I’m not sure I follow.”
Your shoulders sag. This is unbelievable. You unbuckle your seatbelt and gather everything you own. Your throat constricts, “I don’t even know why I’m-“ When your hand finds the lock, it shuts back on its own. “What the fuck?” You turn immediately, hair whipping on your face. “Open it,” You’re tired, it seems to be more obvious to you when you’re pulling on the door the wrong way. “Open it!”
He reaches for your bicep, you’re gonna break the handle. “Hey- Stop it.”
“Let. Me. out!” You smack on the window, you pound heavier with each word, it hurts the side of your fist. “You’re crazy!”
“Oh I’m fucking crazy?!” He pulls you closer, away from doing anything even more damaging to yourself. “Whatever you have to let out, do it to me. Not the fucking car ‘cause it’s fucking pointless.” He spat, you don’t see the concern laced in his pointed eyes because his proximity is torture alone, eyes averted.
Your nostrils flare as you breathe out a long sigh. “You were embarrassed of me.” It doesn’t come out as stern as you’d like it to be, the claim comes out as half a whisper.
His hand loosens on you, but he doesn’t let go. You continue, “It made sense- it was the only reason that made sense when you couldn’t even look at me around our friends.” He finally lets go, hand resting on the back of your headrest.
“You said it was okay-“
Your voice can't help but raise in his wake, your heart beating faster than normal. “Of course I would! Would you have been with me if I pushed you to tell everyone? You couldn’t even do it earlier!”
Sukuna’s hands find themselves planted on the wheel. He’s not even driving, but he feels like it’s the only thing grounding him at this moment.
“You agreed to it! You didn’t say I should change anything, and we just kept going like before anyways—”
“—They knew we were sleeping with each other, I would’ve taken that!” Your voices overlap each other, both your defenses coming up to protect yourselves suddenly. “I would’ve taken being known as part of your body count. At least then I wouldn’t look so desperate. It was humiliating!” You unlock the door, thinking that you were gonna leave it at that. He locks it back, you throw glare at him.
“You don’t think it was embarrassing when you left ‘cause you told me there wasn’t a future for us? How fucking dumb I felt when you never showed up to gatherings and everyone looked at me?” You could’ve sworn a vein was appearing on his forehead, and judging from how he was putting his swear words to a minimum of two, he was definitely holding back.
“Don’t you dare twist this on me,”
“I was never fucking embarrassed of you!”
“You never fought me on it!”
The yell leaves an imprint on the silence that follows.
“I thought if I gave you an ultimatum, you’d back away. So I told you something I wasn’t sure was true myself, until you didn’t fight it. So maybe you were thinking the same and I just stuck with it.” Your words spilled, finally coming out of the confines you’ve kept it all these months.
“I was lying to my friends,” You continued, the words unable to hold in your conscience. “I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. But I also couldn’t talk to you-“ Your voice cracked, “I was alone.” You couldn’t even look at him. You didn’t wanna be faced with any more disappointment.
You wanted him to be distraught, to care that he hurt you, dragged your self worth without knowing, and you fed what was left of it back to yourself. But you weren’t sure if he did care, so you sat stiffly.
“Why didn’t you tell me then?” He asks, hesitant.
You reply without the ability to filter yourself, “ ‘Didn’t wanna look insecure.”
“But you were.” He answers, and it still stings. Of course I was.
“Could you blame me?” You shift in your seat, putting your phone inside your bag, you fish out for your keys you threw back inside during your earlier fit. It takes you longer than you’d like to admit. You find it again but you stay there. Waiting.
You don’t know why you stay longer than you should, no, you do. You steal a glance at him, and his body is still, contemplative. You unlock the car door, and it doesn’t click back to lock. A part of you that you refused to acknowledge still waits for him, but your heart is already heavy with rejection, with the weight of his silence.
You say nothing, the words are lodged in your throat. You’re quick to get out of the car, the crisp air bites your arms and you realize you left your jacket halfway to the entrance of your complex but you keep walking.
Your heels click on the pavement, arms crossed over your chest like you’re holding yourself together. You feel a sting in your eyes — this feels too final. Your lip wobbles but you don’t look back, you’re drawing a line in the sand.
The keys fumble in your hand, your sight gets blurrier and blurrier.
“You’re a fuckin’ baby, you know that?” You stop breathing, fingers caught mid-twist on the door knob. You look up in surprise, your eyes wide and glossy. The sight tugs on Sukuna’s chest.
He raised his hand, your jacket hanging off his fist. “You hate me so much you couldn’t even get back your jacket?”
Your body shivers when a faint gust of wind blows at you, and it feels like that might be enough to take you down like a pile of sticks. “F-fuck you.” Your teeth chatter, and you go back to trying to open your door.
There’s two steps that shuffle behind you, a warmth on your back makes itself known. The keys cease its movement. Your head comes down on the door in a thud, still you don’t look back. “Can you please…” You start, but you aren’t sure what comes after.
Sukuna’s hand wraps around yours on the door knob, he gently pries it off and takes the keys himself. You let him do so, fingers pliant. The touch is warm, intimate — it doesn’t help the twist in your gut.
“I didn’t know how to want you, but I knew how I felt.” He starts, the words coming out hesitant but like release at the same time.
“It felt kinda like nothing would go wrong if I kept it between us. And it didn’t matter to me ‘cause you were,” He hesitated, fiddling with the keys himself till he found the right one. He twists it, the lock clicking. “You’re all I needed.” His breath is on your hair, arms caging you by the doorway.
“I thought if I gave you enough attention, it would be enough to keep you satisfied. And I know now it wasn’t enough. But I didn’t want to lose you then but I’m—yeah, I still did.” He takes a step back, his warmth leaving with him. The door swing opens with a light push of his fingers.
He finds himself in the same position as you, breath stuck, body rigid. You turn around, he looks like he’s holding himself back on something with his fists closed tightly, your keys still between.
“I wasn’t sure what I should’ve done. I never wanted you to be alone.”
The silence that passes is louder than any yell you threw at each other. You both stood there, a step away from each other. The door was now open, but it's for you to go in, not him.
“Is that an apology?” You whisper, he looks down from the ceiling and locks in on you.
“I’m sorry.” He grunts, a foreign word paired with his voice. But it isn’t forced, it’s laid out for you to take if you wanted it. Your heart pounds in your chest, you don’t take your eyes off him. He takes a deep breath and for the first time he looks as uncertain as he actually feels. The words force itself out of him once more, “I’m-“
He blinks and your lips find his. It’s half a second that he doesn't kiss back until he finds your waist and melts into you, eyes shutting. You’re rough, hands coming up his hair and tugging him deeper onto you. Strangely he’s soft, allowing you to pull him in. His hands however are holding onto you like a lifeline. Feeling your body, from your face to your hips, like you’re anchoring him to the ground.
His hand is on the back of your thigh and squeezing, it’s when you gasp as he lifts you when his tongue finds itself in your mouth. Your arms are around his neck when you part from each other.
Sukuna's eyes are half lidded, gazing up at you. Your thumb grazes his cheek, tracing the ink on his face before coming back down to kiss him, you want him closer.
This kiss is different, slow like you’re tasting him. He walks into your apartment while you’re still on his lips. You don’t see the door shut but you hear it. He blindly navigates his way into your apartment like the back of his hand, the only light coming from the dim moonlight cast behind the thin curtains.
He’s on the edge of your bed when you open your eyes, your breaths mingle against each other. You tug at the bottom of his black shirt, palming the expanse of his hard abdomen underneath. You pull off his lips with a whine, “What is it, baby?”
He holds your face, cheeks warm at the nickname. He takes you in when you inch closer, trying to close the distance, your lips puffy and bitten to a flushed red.
Both your brains struggled to connect your thoughts and feelings at this moment. Every graze of his fingers, and squeeze is out of disbelief, making sure that the other is truly there.
You peel your own shirt off, leaving you in nothing but your bra and pants. His throat bobs and you feel him harden underneath your thighs.
You haven’t said anything since you entered your home. Sukuna is searching your face, a little too close to scrutiny. Your brows pinch together, but still you reach for the back of your bra.
Before you let it fall, his hand finds yours that’s keeping your strap from unclasping. He’s waiting for you to say something, trying to get a read on you. You’re doing the same when he pulls you closer, his lips landing on your cheek, your neck, and to the skin above your chest. He picks his head back up, his eyes hazy and dilated.
The hand on your back tightens atop yours, silently urging you to make your discomforts known, if it’s there. He’s patient now but his restraint is hanging by a thread and you, the blade that cuts it clean.
You let go, bringing his hand down from your back to let the piece of garment fall. The weight of his stare is heavy on you, looking down at your soft breasts, nipples stiff and pointed up from the cold. Sukuna stops a groan from escaping his throat.
His head dips, mouth finding your collar bone while his teeth grazes them before biting down. Your hands come up to hold his head, whining as he sucks and licks the spot to soothe. But still, he isn’t dipping down to pay attention to your breasts nor is he squeezing you on the spots you want. Its easy to tell when he’s holding back.
He lets go, a bruise forming above the wet spot of your chest. You’re biting your lip, hands planted on his thighs and you’re leaning forward to balance yourself. It’s getting harder to keep this shit gentle when you’re pressing your tits together for him.
“I don’t,” He swallows hard, “I don’t wanna fuck you.” He says, the words are bitter in his mouth. Liar.
A smirk finds itself on your lips, nodding. You don’t push him. Sukuna watches as you lift yourself off his lap, now standing between his legs. His hands work on their own as they find a place on your bare waist, but he stops the urge to plant your ass back on him.
A gentle thud signals your pants are now at your feet. He scans your body from down up, you feel his eyes on your calves to your thighs. “You don’t wanna touch me?” You poke, stepping out of the pool of fabric.
A hiss comes out of him when squeezed his cock, straining underneath the uncomfortable denim of his jeans. You know he won’t beg you, or plead, but you made a compelling argument.
“Well, I want you.” You continued, looking down when you’re suddenly aware of how you were in nothing but your thin pink underwear. Your hand finds the hem of his shirt, tugging up like you did earlier. “Do you still want me?” The words are half part of the tease, what it could possibly mean lingers in the air.
The way he peers at you isn’t primal, it’s many things you know he won’t be able to tell you. But the answer lands when he takes your hand, guiding you to lay on the bed gently. You land on the pillows, sprawled out while he finally sheds his shirt and jeans off. It’s your turn to gawk, the familiar sight of the thick black bands decorating his skin, still there. It’s still him.
It’s not long until his lips land on yours, hungry and exploring. He kisses down to the skin above your stomach, his tongue sticking out to lick up to your breasts. Your shudder, eyes fluttering shut when his lips latch onto your left nipple and sucking. He’s taking his time before finding the neglected one on the right. Heat builds in your stomach, the fabric of your panties clinging to your folds.
His lips pop off your chest, nose dragging down to your navel, then landing on your underwear. You bite your lip while you’re looking down at him. He steals a glance at you, winking. “You’re an idiot,” The laugh that bubbles dies down into embarrassment when you hear him inhale sharply, taking in your sweet scent.
The deep groan from his chest has your stomach doing flips. Almost immediately, the flimsy fabric of your panties are gone.
The first taste of your pussy has him feeling like he found water after days in the desert. Eyes rolling back underneath his lids, then he sucks on your clit — harsh like he’s trying to get something out of it.
You yelp, your thighs attempt to close around his head but his grip is unyielding as the way he laps at your core hungrily.
It’s taking more effort to stop making so much noise, your own palms coming up to muffle your mewls. Sukuna notices almost immediately, but he doesn’t stop you, instead he takes it as a sign to press his face harder, head moving side to side.
His eyes are wide, a crazed look in them, lips impossibly secured on your cunt. There’s a rough squeeze on your ass, tilting your hips upward to meet his need to go deeper, like devouring you whole isn’t enough.
Sukuna leaves open mouthed kisses on your quivering nub, pulling off it before spitting square on the sensitive flesh. “Y’ gonna keep quiet all night?”
He spreads the fluid on your cunt like butter on his meal, middle finger sinking in while his other hand rubs on your poor clit. Your mouth parts, a shock makes its way through your body, feet twitching. “Ry-ryo, I’m-“
His eyes are glued to how your hole grips around his finger. “No one been fucking this pretty pussy in a while, huh?”
You shake your head, your stomach tightening with each speeding thrust of his thick finger. Your insecurities now forgotten, hands falling to tug on his pink locks. To pull him closer or farther from you, you aren’t sure.
More whimpers spill out of your throat when he adds another digit, fast and unwavering. “I-I can’t—“
He watched you with unbridled attention, mouth parting as you groped your own tits and rode his fingers. “You wanna cum?” He asks, breathless.
The voice you let out is now high and whiney, “Yes, yes, yes—” on the verge of a sob.
The plea runs down like oil on his back, his cock twitching painfully in his boxers, soiled with pre. He goes back to licking up your little clit, lost in the sounds he could emit from you or your body. It’s when he curves his finger upwards, enough to brush the spongey part inside of you, hitting it over and over again, that your legs start to shake. Your hips grow erratic, whimpers spill from you like a damn bursting open. He lets you ride it out, brushing your hair and sweat out of your face as he slows his fingers, your warm body quivering underneath him.
He sits back, watching you heave, legs spread open. You hum, legs shutting before falling to one side, your gaping cunt clenching at nothing, presenting itself to him. A sigh leaves you, “Thanks,” It makes him chuckle, followed by your own. The atmosphere is light for a moment, both of you catching your breaths when you hear clicking at the edge of the bed.
Sukuna’s sitting up on his knees, his presence abundant and just big, you think to yourself when you fix your sights on his cock. Finally free from the confines of his gray boxer shorts, an angry red tip leaking as he jerks his shaft. You realize you’re gawking and your gaze lifts to his.
“Polite as always.” He replied as if he wasn’t jerking his cock in front of you, to you. He’s using the hand he used to play with you earlier, your juices spread on his cock like a personal lubricant.
There’s a tug on your ankle, you’re pulled away from the comfort of your pillows and now close enough that the smooth skin of your ass brushes against his balls. The same hand leads your legs to fold sideways. He hovers above you like a weighted blanket, his lips finding your jaw, then your lips.
“It’s a shame,” he mumbled against you, tip already lining up at the entrance of your drooling pussy. “I’m not as nice.”
You both gasp in each other’s open mouths when he finally sinks in, slowly pushing, inch by inch. His head falls against yours as he holds himself back from bottoming out too fast.
“Oh fuck”
One of you cursed, but you weren’t sure who it came out of. The contents of your head now reduced to something lesser than mush. Unable to comprehend anything beyond sensations. Finally, he bottoms out fully, frothy ring of white developing at the base of his cock with each shallow thrust.
Then he pulls out halfway, before pushing back in all the way. Your breath is caught in your throat, nails digging into his forearms holding your thighs. Slow and deep. Pulling back before plunging himself back to your aching heat.
Again and again.
The pounding resounds in the walls of your apartment, heavy and accompanied by his throaty grunts and your uncontrolled whimpers. He kisses you, tender. A stark difference to the obscene arrangement he’s fucking you in. His balls are hitting your thighs repeatedly, forearm supporting under them and keeping you folded sideways. Every breath that leaves him grazes your skin, directly groaning into your ear.
The room disappears in and out from your vision with each roll of your eyes, each thrust compressing you closer between the sheets and his chest. Each push feels like he’s driving you to the edge, no, insanity.
Because that’s exactly what this is. Seeing your ex on a whim, confronting him drunk, making him plead for forgiveness.
Now he’s flipping you on your back, asking if he could show you how he could fuck inside deeper, and you’re digging your nails into his arms when your knees touch your shoulders.
Yeah, insanity.
A sob eagerly pushes its way out of your throat when he bottoms out in the new angle, the headboard bumping against the wall with the force of his hips. He’s on his knees, thrusting into you with his arms hooked under your legs, palms on the meat of your ass to bring your hips in to fuck on his cock.
Each loud cry prompts him to go even faster, testing how much more you could take, how much more noise he could get out of you.
Noises jolt out of you with each time the blunt head of his cock drives deeper, “H-harder.”
His heart is pounding twice a second but he doesn’t falter, picking up his pace when he feels you clench around him. “Fuck, you’re so fucking gone.”
“I want more, Ryo—”
“don’t-This is more.” Sukuna’s hips stutter, iron grip squeezing your flesh at the request. His tone is concerned, yet strained. Holding back on something you both want. He thumbs your clit, eliciting a cry out of you. But it’s not enough, it doesn’t feel enough. You need to be impossibly closer.
You’re shaking your head, stomach clenched as the heat builds up inside of you, but you don’t want it like this — Sukuna’s thumb rubbing hastily on your sensitive nub. Your desperation grows palpable, hips meeting his after each thrust, thirst still unquenched.
He lets out a frustrated groan that you can only describe as guttural, resolve unravelling as he watches your tits bounce as you eagerly try and take more in. “I’m gonna- I don’t wanna hurt you.” He pants, leaning forward, your legs bending a little more towards you.
“No.” You choke out, “Don’t hold back-” There’s now a hold under your thighs, keeping you from moving out of your position. Your hands are clutching his thick biceps fervently, pulling him down to put his weight on you. Folding yourself in half for him, his hips slowing, thrusts turning deep and languid. “Don’t hold back on me, please.” You gasp out, an earnest request, voice teetering off aroused and closer to pleading.
The air shifts and it’s easy to point when the rest of his resolve releases from the tension in his body.
“Okay, okay baby. Shit.” Throat bobbing before reaching out for you, “C’mere,“ He brings your face to him by the back of your head, lips sloppily meeting each other, tongue prodding past your warm, parted mouth. You’re barely able to kiss back, mewling against him when he pulls back slowly, before bottoming out all the way to your stomach.
It’s not long until he’s picking up the pace, repeating the motion in a fast, unwavering tempo. He’s growing more vocal by the second, and you’re deduced to nothing but a mushy, crying, wet mess underneath him.
“I thought you wanted more?” You don’t—can’t reply, something between whimpers and wet chokes only leave your parted mouth. “I gave you more, now you can’t even thank me?” The sound of his deep chuckle that follows after, reaches all the way to your pussy, getting wetter and wetter around him with each mean tease he sends your way.
Your legs are numb now, the only sensation left is the one building up in your core. The pads of his thumb brush away the stray tears running down the side, you’re biting your lip and pulling him in closer by the arms slung around his neck. “Th-thank you, Ryo.” It comes out as half gasp and a mewl, your breathing uneven and failing to regulate yourself at the stimulation from within. “So good, ’s really—more”
There’s nothing but a deep, guttural noise that returns to you. He feels your thighs struggle to hold yourself with his weight on you, holding himself above you, carrying your hips and letting your legs slacken against your side.
“You’re shaking so much.” Your muscles lessen in tension, heart tugging at the consideration.
But you tuck that nervous, unstable part of you away, not ready to confront these feelings fully. You’re unable to look at him, head falling at the side. His lips fall on your cheek, wetly dragging them across till they’re hovering over your ear,
“Keep acting this nice I might do anything you want me to.”
“Sh-shut up,” You mouth off, tightly shutting your eyes so as to not meet his taunting crimson ones. He can’t help the grin that tugs on his face, watching you get bashful over him mocking you. He remembers how easy it is to get to you, a trait typically bothersome for others, on you it’s wholly endearing. Despite your words though, you’re clenching around him, pulsing, wetter, and wetter still.
He continues to press on, hips slowing down to start driving into you deeper, a dull ache hitting your cervix. “You missed this,” He bends down, closer against your face, smushing you who’s still turned away, pressing against the mattress. Like he’s trying to merge your bodies together. “Admit it, you fucking missed this.” Continuing on his pace, grunting when you clamp down on him, “I can fucking feel you— Say you missed me, c’mon.”
“I-I’m, Oh my,” The words float around your head, unable to connect as a full sentence when he speeds up. You struggle, trying to keep up with both chasing your orgasm and his foolish requests. “Imissedyou, oh shit, I’m so close.“ You’re reaching down with your fingers, aiming for your swollen clit when a much larger, iron clad grip, sticks your hand to the bed. You feel like crying.
“What d’you say? A little clearer for me.” He pushes, unsatisfied with your answer.
“Fuck you!” Your free arm lands on his leg, quads flexing as they’re put to work. Your nails claw into them, the flesh of his hard thigh burning with reddened marks.
Still, he doesn’t let up, “I don’t think you want me to.” He takes carrying your weight for his own advantage, dragging you body down on his shaft, up and down like he’s using you to jerk himself off.
Amidst hot, bursting sensations within, the constant hesitation you seem to bring into everything peeks through.
The words play in your head, and you waver. Your guard coming up, “I-I miss your cock then—fuck!” The curse spills out after a hand comes down on your puffy cunt, your nerves triggering small shocks all the way to your toes. He’s really pushing it out of you. A notch grows between his brows.
You feel so much all at once. Your physical feelings and emotional sentiments clash with one another, making you unable to decipher what you want quickly — your emotions are unpacking at the most inconvenient of times.
A taunt now left feeling a lot more like a weighted decision.
You look for an answer in his stare, he’s already focused on you and maybe equally nervous, reaching to see if you’ll meet him halfway.
Tears prick your eyes at the intensity of it all.
You reach for his face, and it feels like coming back to earth. “I miss you—I-I missed you.” And he’s toppling over, your gravity pulling him in.
He lets out a breath, “F-fuck, I know,” It comes out closer to a snivel than a whisper, tucking himself in your neck and breathing in you scent. It’s grounding enough that he lets out a groan. “I missed you too.”
His hips grow erratic, member throbbing in your walls, pre-cum mixing with the mess of your sopping cunt. He can’t last. The shame that comes with the fact doesn’t reach him though as he’s lost in the persistence of feeling you cum around his cock, rolling his hips, pink tufts on his pelvis rubbing against your mound.
The knot in your core tightens even more, back arching off your bedsheets as his engorged tip rams upwards, grazing your cervix repeatedly. Your orgasm crests over like a thousand shocks, toes curling and twitching as you ride it out. He’s pulling out after, leaving your hole gaping, and hastily pumping up and down on his cock, drenched in your fluids.
Curses spill out of him, watching your chest heave in the dim light, never averting his gaze before he shoots white spurts of his cum all over your stomach with a breathy moan.
Your vision comes and goes afterwards, hardly able to keep your eyes open. One moment he’s wiping on you with his soiled shirt, the next he’s pulling your covers over you and placing his arm around your waist.
Before sleep comes over your consciousness, a peck lands on the side of your head, soft and lingering. He mumbles something to you, you don’t catch it. The world around you already turning black, head quiet.
***
The sun peaks through the blinds, a warm glow casts on your naked back. Sukuna observes, fingers brushing against the yellow and purple blooming on the skin of your waist. There’s a faint buzzing that interrupts his quiet morning, continuous and irritating. He reaches over to your bedside table, careful to not dip your side of the bed too much.
“I knew you weren’t gonna call me last night! I was getting worried he’d drive you off the highway or something.” Before the voice could continue, there’s already another distant, feminine one, muffled and saying something along the lines of ‘Is that her’ or ‘Did you tell her?’
“Yeah! ‘m about to ask!” Sukuna’s face pinched at the clear yell, pulling the phone away from his ear.
It’s early as fuck.
There's a noise on his end, dishes clanking and clothes shuffling. “Since you're done ghosting us, I wanted to check if you were free next week? I promise, I won’t force you in a car with Sukuna’s grump ass agai—“
“Yeah, we’ll see if we can go.” Before Suguru could say anything, the grump hangs up with a furrowed brow, sliding your phone back on top of your drawers.
He sat back on your headboard, contemplating the unfamiliar, light feeling fluctuating in his chest. He finds the culprit, stirring in her sleep, arm reaching out slowly for the warmth that left behind her.
You peel your eyes open. taking in the morning light, blinking. Your hair falls down to your side when you turn, shamelessly gawking when you first take in his bare chest and only then do you peer back at his focused stare.
You tuck a hand underneath your head, challenging his focus.“What?” your voice comes out laced with traces of sleep.
“Geto’s asking if we’re free next week.” There’s a comfortable silence between you two, one that soothes over the warmth in the air. You’re first to blink, a smirk pulls on your lips at the sight of a grin on his.
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