“fuck baby, just like that.” denki groans, leaning back on the couch as you bounce up and down on his cock.
“denki i just- mmf! denki ‘m so full.”
bang! the front door slams open and snap your neck, continuing to ride denki as his roommates walk in.
“shit.” kirishima covers his eyes, clicking the door shut behind him.
“damn.” sero tilts his head, watching the way your ass jiggles after each sticky smack.
“dude!” kirishima slaps a hand over sero’s eyes.
“sorry.” denki calls out. “left half the blunt in the ashtray.” his hands grab your ass, scooting lower and starts fucking up into you. “fuck baby.” spank!
“we’ll-”
“nghhh!” you toss your head back. “fuck denki, i’m gonna- ahhh!” you gasp, spine straightening as your orgasm washes through you.
“move your fuckin hand.” sero slaps kirishima’s hand away.
“light it and pass it.” denki looks over your shoulder.
“wha- now?” kirishima drops his other arm, trying to look anywhere but at you.
sero is already walking towards the ashtray and taking a seat next to the both of you. “what? denki’s room too dirty for you, sweetheart?” blunt between his lips as he lights it.
“nah, she couldn’t wait.” denki bucks up into you, reaching over as sero passes the blunt.
“shouldn’t you.. like cover up, man.” kirishima winces when you turn to him with a pout.
“don’t like lookin at me, kiri?” you reach for him and his cheeks flush.
“think he likes lookin at you too much.” denki chuckles. “go over there.” he lifts you off his dick and plops you down on kiri’s lap.
“dude!? i- ??” he holds his hands up and squeezes his eyes shut.
“wanna fuck her?” denki lulls his head to the side and you roll your hips.
“can i fuck kiri?” you whine at denki. “please?” you push your lower lip out.
“and what about me?” sero pouts his lips out.
“what do you think baby?” denki offers you a lazy smile. “wanna give my friends a ride?” he passes you the blunt.
“mhm mhm.” you nod quickly, taking a hit and pushing it back into denki’s hand.
you lean forward, pressing your lips to kiri’s and blowing the smoke in his mouth. sero and denki watch at the way kiri flushes under your touch as you shove your hands under his shorts. you whine when his cock pops out, already glistening with little beads of pre.
“‘s big.” you lean back and pump him once before lifting up on your knees.
“bet he’ll cum in 2 minutes.” sero chuckles, watching the way you slide kiri up and down your folds.
“nahh, i give him 5.” denki pushes sero’s chest.
“guys..” he groans as you sink onto his tip. “shut up.” his hands grip your waist as he looks up at you. “pretty. so pretty baby.” he nods as you take inch after inch.
“you’re a pretty baby too.” sero purrs in denkis ear, plucking the blunt out of his hand and dabbing it out in the ashtray.
“wha- hah! fuck sero.” sero’s hand wraps around denki’s cock
“forgot how squirmy you get.” sero thumbs at his underside. “she’s got you fuckin soaked.” he hums, pumping him faster.
you can’t decide if you want to look down at kiri as you suck him in or over at the way sero has denki’s hips jerking off the couch. kiri grinds his hips up and your attention falls to him, eyes fluttering as he repeats the movement. his hands grip your waist as he starts to fuck up into you, not letting you do any of the work.
“shit hanta.” denki can’t help the way he fucks up into sero’s hand.
“gonna cum before ei?” sero chuckles.
“shut up.” denki’s thighs shake.
“nghh!” you’re clinging onto kiri as he pounds up into you.
kirishima has you held tightly to his chest as he snaps his hips up onto yours. your pussy is strangling his cock, your lips brushing against his neck as you whimper right into his ear. his fingers harden into your skin and your walls flutter, thighs shaking, with one more harsh snap of his hips, you cum with a cry of his name.
“shitshitshit.” kiri holds you down on his thighs as he fills you.
you turn your head to the side and find denki sated, breathing heavy with cum all over his abs and sero slowly jerking himself. sero gives you a lazy smile and reaches out a hand to you and you lift off of kiri. sero helps you over to him and slides you right down onto his cock.
“got you all to myself.” he brushes your hair back.
“hanta.” your lashes flutter.
“hm?” he slowly starts to fuck you up and down.
“‘m so tired.” you rest your head on his shoulder. “just.. use me. please.”
“ohhh, i know baby.” he coos, trailing a hand up your spine.
sero scoots down until you’re laying on his chest and he can fuck up into you. each drag out and push back in has your toes curling, little puffs of air leaving your lips and splaying across his warm skin. you press kisses all over his neck, trembling in his arms, breath catching as an orgasm already bursts through you.
“s’okay. i got you.” he rubs your back when he feels the tears on his neck.
“feels s’good.” you’re practically limp in his arms.
you peek out of his neck and see denki staring at you with lidded eyes as he strokes himself. you blink past him and kiri is doing the same, lips parted and letting out little moans. sero bucks up into you and you bury yourself back into his neck.
“focus on me.”
your hands tangle in his hair, gummy walls spasming around him at his low words. he hits that one spot and you gasp, yanking on his hair and he grins. he pushes against it over and over until you’re cumming and whining as he starts to fill you.
“can’t move.” you’re limp against him.
“don’t gotta.” denki rubs your back.
“gonna clean you up real nice.” he hums.
instead of taking you to the bath, they take you to denkis room and lay you back on the bed. each taking turns sucking the cum out of you.
bang! the front door opens and snaps shut.
“denki!!! why does the apartment smell like sex?” you hear katsuki walking down the hall. “you idiots didn’t invite me?”
“kats.” you squirm.
“they make you cum?”
“mhm.” a nod of your head.
“they clean you up yet?” he looks at the way they have your legs spread wide.
“mm-mm.” you shake your head.
“wanna take a bath?” he grins when you nod your head.
you hate fighting with Robby. Because once you do, it gets out of control fast and neither of you thinks fast enough to swallow back hurtful things and take a moment to breathe
when Jack is there, it sometimes tones down to some bickering and eye rolls and everything is forgotten in half an hour. When he's not though...
You've retreated into the guest room no one ever uses, still dressed in Robby's stupid shirt and crying stupid tears because of stupid Robby. The fight was stupid too, you can't even remember what started it.
But before you knew it, his voice got louder and so did yours and he called you pushy and you said he didn't even want to get better
Both of you had slammed the door behind yourself. Jack is at work. Hours pass where you both don't come out to reconcile.
At some point, you fell asleep and wake up to the soft feeling of knuckles brushing the tears away, nearly making you flinch stubbornly because for just a second, you think it's Robby
"What happened, sweetheart?" Jack looks at you, without judgement but with the frown on his face only you and Robby are able to bring out. The fight is written all over the quiet apartment. He did not even have to talk to Robby first to know.
"I don't want to talk about it." Your voice is still wobbly and you want to squirm away, but Jack is already there, not letting you.
"You don't have to tell me anything, baby. Tell him."
"No."
He leaves the guest room for now with a deep sigh. It's seven in the morning and here he is, trying to mend the broken pieces you two have left. Robby and you should've been pressed together underneath the covers, your cheeks rosy from Robby's body heat while he held you close, not like this. Not apart.
Jack can tell Robby has been crying.
The two of them stare at each other for a moment, silently communicating. Jack knows Robby feels fucking awful before he even opens his mouth.
"She's right there, man. Just talk to her. Make it right. She's been crying. Just- you gotta love her. You've gotta. Otherwise this won't work."
"I do. Fuck, I- of course I love her. It's just-"
"Is it so hard to believe she loves you too? That she cares?"
Jack leaves him with that question. While he's making three cups of tea, exhaustion clinging to his shoulders, Robby is silently crossing through the living room past him and disappears into the guest room.
Jack doesn't need to eavesdrop. He's close enough to hear deep, mumbled words and a few shaky sniffles before the bed squeaks and Robby and you hug it out, his large hand stroking your hair while you bury your face in his chest and cry
And when he sees Robby coming out with you in his arms, kissing your temple like you're the most precious thing in the world, he knows it'll be enough for today.
I KNOW YOU WANT ME, SO WHY WON’T YOU ACT LIKE IT ?
sum: when you reject fratjo because of his playboy reputation, can his frat brothers—and real brother—help him win you over & prove he’s not a player ?
NICE GUY TACTICS #1: STOP TALKING, START LISTENING !
taught by: nanami kento
“maybe if you listened to y/n as much as you spoke, she’d finally give you a chance.”
ΣX
at a desk behind a bookcase somewhere in birge-carnegie library, nanami kento has a book in his hands & sato gojo’s voice in his ears.
“—rich, handsome, charismatic, compassionate,” sato counts the words on his fingers. “i’m all these things and y/n still rejected me! can you believe it, kenny?”
nanami kento does not give a fuck.
4PM thursday means a box of timbits & the latest volume of nanami’s new favorite BL manhwa. he’s trying to root for cirrus as he pursues his love interest, skylar, but sato gojo’s whining in his ears makes concentrating very, very difficult. nanami snaps his book shut.
“first of all, can you please sit like a child of God?”
across from him, sato gojo is all loose limbs & no decorum; legs open & spread over the mahogany table as he leans back just enough to rock in the wooden chair. he has his arms folded behind his head but when kento snaps, he sits up. his lips are tugged in a stubborn, trying-to-be-cute frown:
“kento,” sato pouts. “help me.”
nanami kento drags a palm over his face. his collar feels tight on his neck & his fingers twitch over his book but sato has his lips pouting & lashes fluttering across from him. if helping out means sato will leave him alone to focus on reading lost in the cloud, who is he to refuse?
RULE #1: TALK LESS, LISTEN MORE !
sato gojo finds you somewhere on the second floor.
he didn’t mean to find you, really. heaven knows he was only on the way to the bathroom, snapchat map clearly not open to your location. at the desk you have your knees to your chest & a marker in your teeth as you frown at your textbook, and sato has to swallow the ache in his throat because your lips are all pouty & glossy & bruised against the marker-cap. fuck.
he strolls over, smile easy & hands in his pockets like you don’t make him shed nerves by the pint.
“y/n l/n,” he grins, leaning over the chair across from you. “fancy seeing you here.”
“don’t make me reject you twice in one week, sato.”
sato gojo bites his lip. your eyes don’t care to meet his as you speak & sato can only watch as you twirl your marker in your teeth. god, you’re so pretty. and god, you’re so mean, shutting him down every time he tries to speak to you because of his ‘playboy reputation’. bullshit.
he’s silent for a beat. “you have sharpie on your nose.”
you blink, hands slowly lifting to your face to rub at your nose. your fingers come back stained in black, & sato gojo can only bite back a smile as you frown at your palms.
“oh my god,” you groan.
“cute,” sato chuckles, pulling out the chair to sit across from you. you’re frowning at him now, lips curled in distrust. but sato doesn’t miss the heat in your cheeks, the glint in your eyes. he makes himself comfortable & leans forward over the table:
“so what’s got you so mad you’re drawing on your face?”
you frown, but sato still gazes at you with that stupid grin & a twinkle in his eyes. you sigh, licking your molars, eyes flitting back to your textbook.
“my group mates,” you tap your marker. “they dumped all the work on me, again. something about me being the ‘smart one’ anyways.”
sato nods, but his attention is split. half of his mind is on the way your gloss spoils in the heat. the other half’s focused on how your lashes flutter even though you’re grumbling. his stomach aches.
“i get that, y’know.”
you blink up at him. “you do?”
he misses the snark in your tone. “people expecting stuff from me, it’s exhausting.” he leans forward, takes the marker from between your fingers & taps it against your knuckles. “for me, it’s girls.”
“…girls?”
“mhm,” he’s still playing with your knuckles, tapping the marker-cap to the bone, lifting each finger & cocking his head like he’s inspecting them. “tons of ‘em, blowing up my phone just because i was nice to them once,” he tugs your thumb wistfully before leaning back. “it gets tiring.”
“…girls.”
“yeah,” sato nods. “girls.”
it’s silent for a beat, sato’s eyes boring into yours. his gaze is tender, nose red, & the marker that was once in your hands is somehow between his lips. his lashes flutter in the light.
you can’t believe he’s deadass.
you’re packing your books now, orgo chem & other textbooks shoving into your book bag. sato watches with his brows knit in confusion. “hey, hey—where are you going—?!”
you leave the library and don’t look back.
NANAMI’S REMARK : WHAT KIND OF MISCOMMUNICATION TROPE IS THIS…?
NICE GUY TACTICS #2: PLAYBOY? NAH, PAYBOY !
taught by: toji zenin
“girls like you for your face but stay for the black card. stop talking and start spending.”
ΣX
it’s tuesday again, and toru gojo’s room is filled with practically everyone but himself. sukuna’s palming his dick with his phone in one hand & toru’s bedsheets covering the other. sato’s twirling a beach ball even though it’s the peak of spring. toji zenin is tugging black tights over his thick thighs, upper half already covered in an equally tight black leotard.
“so,” sato hugs the beach ball to his chin. “new job?”
“dance instructor for katseye,” toji grumbles, struggling to fit the tights over his ass. sato bites his cheek.
“what happened with skai jackson? thought you were working as her personal AI prompt writer.”
“fired. and the brat says AI is bad anyways.”
sato nods. on the bed beside him, sukuna has blown his load & is laid back against toru’s sheets. he has a hand behind his head & the other resting lazy against his cock. “nice ass, zenin.”
toji doesn’t look up, still shifting the tights over his buttocks. “don’t talk about my ass with your dick in your hands.”
sato drops the ball to his lap and groans. “can you guys believe i’m still having no luck with y/n?”
“oh, brother.”
sato shoots sukuna a glare. he slumps against the wall, “i’ve tried listening to her, just like kento suggested. no fucking luck.”
in front of the mirror, toji zenin has succeeded in fitting the tights over his taut ass. sukuna asks him to do a spin & toji tells him to fuck off. sato watches the exchange with a slight pout before his eyes drop to toji’s crotch. damn. he was no expert in print catching, but that dick was definitely a D+.
he shakes the image of toji’s dick away. “i really don’t know what to do about y/n.”
toji picks up his duffel bag. “you’re a gojo, right? you got money?”
“yeah?”
“then use it, dumbass,” toji grunts. “pull out that black card and pay your way into her good books.”
sato only frowns. “y/n doesn’t seem like the materialistic type, though.”
“all women are materialistic,” toji mutters, fumbling through drawers for his keys. sukuna throws them at his head, & toji’s smart enough to pick them up with a tissue to avoid getting precum on his hands. “i’m not gonna ask why you were with my keys. and sato, take my advice if you want a chance with this chick.”
toji exits the room. sukuna has his dick out again, and sato contemplates his next steps as sukuna moans in pleasure beside him.
# SHOW TIME !
at the campus bookstore, there’s a line of 20 students glaring holes into your back.
four textbooks, a lab coat, & five other things you’ll use for class & never touch again. at 214 college street, there’s a heat in your cheeks & an ache in your stomach as the cashier hands you back your card. declined.
“sorry, can you just try again? or could i split the total between two cards—?”
“miss, i’m afraid you’re holding up the line.”
your lips are already bruised & half-bitten when someone sighs loudly behind you. you’re scrambling for another card with too many books in your hands but before you can find one something hard presses against your back.
“she’s with me. put everything she has on here.”
gojo sato has his chest smushed against your back & lalique’s encre noire pricking at your nose. he leans over you to hand his black card to the cashier, who takes it from him with glee.
you tense from the feel of his skin. you bite your lip as you watch the cashier swipe the card, & you’re fiddling with your fingers as your cheeks flush in embarrassment.
“relax,” sato murmurs in your ear. “i’ve got you.”
and you do. your shoulders slump into him. your breathing steadies. you don’t even mind the way sato’s hair tickles your ear as he leans over you, or the way his palm has climbed up to meet your hip. he mumbles a sorry as he presses you closer to the counter. his palm doesn’t fall afterward, & your spine tingles when his thumb brushes your side.
“here you go!”
the cashier hands you the bags with a smile as stretched as plastic. sato takes the bags instead, and you watch, wide-eyed & stupefied, as he carries the heavy load all in one toned hand. he walks slightly ahead for a bit before he reaches out his palm behind him. he makes a grabby hand & you take it with a blink.
he gently tugs you forward to walk beside him. he’s grinning, “Hi.”
“Hi.”
his smile grows. you’re peering up at him with wide eyes & god you’re so cute, you’re always so fucking cute, and god. his heart’s all swollen & sticky in his chest.
his hand shifts to your waist now, brushing up & down gently. “good thing i was close by, right?”
“thank you—“
“no need to thank me, sweetheart.” he hums, pressing you flush against his side as you walk together. “i know people like you are usually impoverished. that’s why you study so hard, right?”
you blink, “what?”
sato doesn’t hear you. “i saw you struggling to pay,” he sing-songs, eyes shut & grin pleased. “so i generously thought to step in. pretty girls like you shouldn’t have to pay anyways.”
you stop in your tracks. his thumb is still rubbing slow circles on your hip. “sato.”
“hm, baby?”
“don’t ever show your face to me again.”
you leave him on the street with your books in his hands & his heart in his throat.
TOJI’S REMARK : 🤦🏿♂️
NICE GUY TACTICS #3: LET HER COME TO YOU !
taught by: geto suguru
“you’re doing too much. sometimes you gotta give girls space and let them come to you.”
ΣX
“i’m actually creasing!”
it’s thursday again, and sato gojo is sitting cross-legged on his bed with sukuna’s head resting lazy on his lap. through his macbook screen geto suguru is laughing hysterically, tears in his eyes as sukuna snickers on sato’s leg with a palm clutched over his mouth.
they’re all wheezing—with the sole exception of sato gojo, of course.
suguru wipes his tears on his cashmere knit sweater. he’s looking all neat & proper, hair tied back & the picture of perfection. suguru is away in manchester for a study abroad semester. sato misses him badly.
till he opens his mouth again.
“i can’t lie, yeah,” suguru dabs at his eyes. “you’ve absolutely bottled it.”
“can you drop the british accent? you’re a first gen japanese immigrant.”
“allow it,” suguru shakes his head. sukuna is throwing up peace signs at the camera so balloons rise up on the facetime screen. “to call the girl you like impoverished…” suguru says through balloons, “just pack it in, mate.”
sukuna props his head up so his face is on the screen. his smile is clumsy: “your boy’s a proper wasteman.”
suguru grins, “is he?”
sato groans. “i was being a provider. following toji’s advice.”
“mind you, the man can’t even provide for himself.”
suguru snickers at that. “not too much, ryomen. and sato, don’t you think you’re trying too hard?”
“i don’t think i’m trying enough.”
“i think you’re trying in the wrong direction,” geto leans back, all calm & cashmere soft. “give her some breathing room—some space. let her come to you.”
sukuna bends his hands into a heart & a heart bubble appears on-screen. “might be your only option at this point. suguru, can i play on your sims 4 save file?”
“absolutely not.”
sukuna breaks the heart.
sato gojo has his back slumped over, brows knit, & lips twisted in concentration.
“let her come to me…got it.”
# SHOW TIME !
sato gojo is stalking you.
you’re on the way to class with a pen in your ear & a patience worn thin. he was three seats away at the local café. two in the campus library. now you’re walking through the courtyard & sato gojo is leaning back against a bulletin board like his eyes aren’t following your every move.
he has your books in your hand from the other day. is he wearing your lab coat?
you shake the thoughts away & keep walking. you’ve got a test in two hours. a project due in three. screw sato gojo & his rich kid privilege & clumsy smile & bright blue eyes and—
sato scurries behind you just to lean back coolly against yet another bulletin board. what the hell is his problem?
you snap, whipping around. “sato! what are you doing ?!”
his eyes widen. he’s still leaned against the bulletin board, your books in his arms & his hair messy-cute. there’s red on his cheeks & his eyes widen before he fixes his face & plasters on that smooth smirk:
“i’m letting you come to me.”
you blink. “no, i’m going to class.”
“and then you’re coming to me afterwards.”
“no, i don’t fucking think i am.”
he slumps forward as if your words are a weight on his shoulders. he’s pouting now as he walks up to you, your books hugged tightly to his chest. “i owe you an apology.”
“do you?”
“yes—god, yes i do.” he’s close now, too close. “y/n, i’m so fucking sorry. i wasn’t thinking straight. i was trying so hard to impress you and look like a provider but ended up sounding like some classist prick. you’re fucking amazing—strong, smart, independent—god, you’re my inspiration. please don’t make me stay away from you,” he clutches his chest. “my heart can’t fucking take it.”
sato gojo looks like an idiot.
your lab coat shrugged lazy over his shoulders, thick books pressed to his chest & a gaze too tender. he keeps his eyes on yours but his pupils shift like they’re heavy with nerves. you bite your lip. fuck.
“i forgive you,”
he blinks, straightens up. “really?”
“yes, really,” you murmur, picking out each book from his hold. he watches as you pluck them into your arms, your nose flushed & lashes fluttering, & his gaze is all misty. his heart goes sticky in his chest.
“i really like you.”
oh fuck. he didn’t mean to say that. he meant it, oh god, he meant it, but he didn’t mean to fucking say it and—
“i know,” you peer up at him, voice soft & gaze gentle in the heat. “walk me to class?”
he takes your books back into his arms. your lecture is two hours too long but sato gojo waits outside the whole time.
GETO’S REMARK : NEAR DISASTER; BUT CHEERS, MATE !
NICE GUY TACTICS #4: ACT LIKE YOU’RE THE PRIZE !
taught by: ryomen sukuna
“act like you’ve already got her, and you finally will. law of assumption or whatever.”
ΣX
in toru gojo’s room, ryomen sukuna is playing the sims 4 because he has no respect for suguru’s wishes.
sato gojo is on his bed, cheeks flushed & head dizzy. he’s still brushing a thumb over his palm, heat prickling at his skin as he remembers the way you held on when he picked you up after class. your hands were so soft, & you’re so pretty, & gojo sato is utterly fucked.
you’d frowned up at him when you found him waiting but let him hold your hand & guide you to the library regardless. sato tries to breathe. the air goes sticky in his lungs.
at toru’s desk, sukuna is drowning geto’s sim. “why are you smiling like an idiot?” he mutters.
“ryomen,” sato exhales. “i think i’m in love.”
sukuna scoffs, then grins when suguru’s sim kitchen catches fire. “so? you guys are dating now?”
“not yet,” sato sighs, easing into the covers. “to be honest, i’m not even sure she likes me. at least, not the way i like her.”
“mm. i think she just tolerates you.” / “shut the fuck up.”
“listen,” sukuna’s typing cheat codes into the game now. “you want her to be yours? act like she already is. it’s the law of assumption.”
sato blinks. “you believe in manifestation?”
“i use subliminals. how do you think i got my dick so big?”
sato doesn’t comment. “by the way, suguru’s sim asked yours for a divorce. just thought you should know that.”
sato sits up, suddenly serious. “new save file. now.”
# SHOW TIME !
sigma-chi’s frat house is blaring speakers & bodies pressed together on a friday evening.
sato gojo has a cup in his hands & liquor in his teeth. beside him sukuna’s on a chair chugging beer, porn playing in his headphones so he can have a dick print. his technique seems to be working—two bodies to the left, there’s a girl & her friend. sato overhears them conclude sukuna must be a D.
in sato’s ears, however, he’s playing an attract your crush! subliminal—hand-picked & recommended by ryomen sukuna, of course. he has his hands in his pockets, cap slumped & limbs lazy—until he spots you.
glossed hair, glazed lips & your tongue in your cheek. you’re wearing a skirt too short to be sweet & now sato has his tongue in his cheek too. you’re shifting around as if nervous—as if you’d rather not be here, & sato’s heart aches with something akin to want.
he doesn’t realize when his body starts moving.
you’re faced away from him, lips bitten, so he takes your hand from behind. you jolt, “oh—hi.”
“hi, baby,” he mutters, guiding you closer. “you look pretty.”
“thank you,” you murmur, breathless. sato’s arms loop around your hips. you only lift your palms to rest on his chest.
“have you had anything to drink?”
you shake your head, and sato’s hands are climbing higher now, under your top & grazing your spine. his hands are cold, so cold.
sukuna’s subliminal is still buzzing in his ears. he’s always been a daring boy, so he takes the leap. cups your cheek with a palm. brushes your waist when you shiver. “i can get you something.”
“that would be nice.”
he nods & guides you towards the bar.
——
sato gojo’s not sure how he’s done it.
you’re so pliant today. soft & unguarded, warm edges & caramel-sweet. even now he has your back pressed against his chest at the bar, hands on your hips, your perfume in his lungs.
you look up at him, “sato?” and he wants to kiss you because your eyes are too big & your voice is too pretty.
“mm?”
he leans down to hear you & his nose brushes your neck. his thumb is brushing circles on the dip beneath your waistband.
“do you…um. do you actually like me?”
oh god.
sato wants to say he’s never liked anyone more. that last night he dreamt about the shape of your frown, that his ribs ache when you ignore him, that his heart scraped against his throat the day he tried to pay for you but he messed up & you left, that he practiced his apology in the mirror till his throat hurt & if you ever said you liked him back he’d swallow his pride & cry.
but the subliminal still hums in his ears. sukuna’s words are still a ghost in the heat. ‘act like you’ve already got her!’
so he clears his throat. puts on that fake confidence like frat boys do.
“dunno,” but his hand grips your hip. “why? you want me to give you a chance?”
you still in his hold. sato gojo has fucked up once again.
SUKUNA’S REMARK : DAMN.
NICE GUY TACTICS #5: EGO IS THE ENEMY !
taught by: toru gojo
“i’ve played these games before. trust me when i say to just be yourself.”
ΣX
that evening, sato gojo has his knees against the tile & acid in his jugular.
he’s bent over the toilet seat, tongue curled & bone in his stomach. toru gojo has his hand in sato’s hair, holding it back as his twin brother spills his guts into the toilet bowl.
“i fucked up,” he rasps, then pukes again. “toru—toru. i fucked up,”
his nerdy brother bites his lip. it’s a sight for sore eyes—his twin on the bathroom floor with split lip & bruised knees, babbling over a girl with red cheeks & eyes watery. toru picks up a towel to wipe his brother’s face. “you need to calm down—you made a mistake. it’s not the end of the world.”
“it is, fuck, it is.” sato’s tears fall faster than toru can wipe. he’s shaking, “you know this isn’t the first time? that i called her poor?” toru winces. “and she let it go like a fucking saint and—hic—i still fucked up. i hurt her again.”
sato’s nose is blotchy red & his eyes are swollen puffy. the tears don’t stop. “i always hurt her. toru, why do i always hurt her?”
toru kneels down to his brother’s shaking figure, one hand on his cheek & the other dabbing his tears. “because you keep trying to perform. keep acting like something you’re not.” toru pauses. “like i was doing before i finally got my girlfriend.”
sato remembers—how he and his frat brothers gave toru a bunch of ‘playboy tactics’ to woo over his girl. sato shakes his head, sniffling. “i’m not pretending. i’m not fucking pretending.”
“you are,” toru wipes sato’s nose with his sleeve, then quickly regrets it. “i’ve been busy with projects but i know how you get, sato. acting all suave like you don’t overthink everything she says. like you don’t ask for advice on reddit forums. like you don’t make geto roleplay with you so you can decide exactly how to approach her.”
toru pauses, takes in his brother’s sore eyes & tear-stained cheeks. he hugs his brother’s head: “i know how you get.”
sato goes limp in his arms. “i really, really like her.”
“i know,” toru squeezes. “we all do.”
sato lets his head fall limp in his brother’s neck. he can’t help but wish that it was you.
—-
sato gojo has typed your name four times into his notes app because he likes the way it looks on his screen.
then he deletes it, then types it again, then deletes it with tears in his eyes. there’s still alcohol in his throat & his head is too fucking dizzy. it hurts to breathe & sato gojo can’t fucking think.
y/n.
it takes him three tries to spell your name into his contacts. not because he can’t spell, but because there are tears clouding his eyes & his throat hurts whenever he tries to sound your name out. y/n y/n y/n. no search results. then he finds your name saved under ‘baby :)‘ & he’s finally able to breathe again.
he’s still half-drunk, and he can’t really see, and there’s a wound in his chest & his thumbs are shaking so he prays to god for strength as he types. sato gojo hasn’t been to a church since he was eleven. he can’t even spell the word messiah.
SATO:
Hy [deleted]
Hi
y/n i’m so sorry
for everything
ikm such a fucking idiot
when u asked me if i reallly liked u and i said idk and u froze in my arms i felt my heart fucking stop in my chest y/n i’m so sorry
i like you i like you so bad
i don’t have the confudence to say it out loud to your face im so sorry
*confidence
i want to be a better man for you
i’m sorry for always hurting you i try not to i swear i do but i always think too hard and say the wrong things i swear i never ever mean to hurt you never ever
i liek you so much i’ve never liked any girl the way i like you ever in my life
i take acantability
accowntabikity
accountant
accountabity
i’m sorry im accountable
sato’s eyes blur. he’s not sure if it’s the alcohol or the tears. his hands are shaking but he prays again and he’s able to type just one more message.
SATO: ilikeyouilikeyouilikeyouilikeyou
the typing bubble pops up in the chat. he passes out before he can see your message.
——
“where is he?”
sato gojo has his nose beneath the covers, lashes sticky with dried tears & want. his hearing is muffled & his head is dizzy so when the lights flick on he retreats further into the covers.
toru gojo kneels in front of him. “sato. wake up.”
“mmrrnnhhhh.”
toru sighs. you walk up next to him and kneel in front of the bed. “sato?”
he stills. he knows that voice anywhere.
slowly, agonizingly, he pulls down the covers. just a little, just an inch—just because his nose is still blotchy & his eyes are still puffy & he doesn’t want you to see him like this. he opens his eyes & god. if this is a dream—messiah. please don’t wake him up.
you are so beautiful & your eyes are so big & sato gojo can’t believe you’re right here in front of him.
“sato. hi.”
he tries to say hi back. his lips part but he can’t seem to get anything out.
toru rises to his feet. “i’ll get him some water. be right back.”
it’s just you and him now; sato gojo and the only girl he’s ever loved. is it too early to use the word love? you’re resting your chin on folded arms right in front of him & sato does think he’s in love. he hasn’t even properly told you he likes you. he has to hurry up and say it.
you’re so close your noses are touching. you’re so pretty & you smell so sweet. “sato.”
“hi, baby—” but then he coughs. “hi, y/n.”
you giggle at that. sato realizes he’s never heard you giggle before. he wants you to giggle again. can you giggle again?
“i got your messages,”
ah. he swallows. “i texted you back and you didn’t respond. i got worried so i came here.”
sato can’t believe his ears. you worried about him?
he blinks. “i love you.”
your brows furrow.
“i’m sorry for saying it,” his voice is small, shy, slightly muffled beneath the covers. “but i think it a lot. and i’m sorry for loving you because i know i’m not worthy of your love, or of you in general, but if i said i like you that wouldn’t be correct, because the way my heart feels when i think about you is more than ‘like’,”
he breathes. “so i’m sorry for loving you. but i still love you. i’m sorry.”
you don’t know what to say to that. sato gojo is still peering at you—lashes sticky, blue eyes dim yet brimming with light. he’s retreated further into the covers now so all you see is white wisps of hair & those bright blue eyes.
you tug down the covers. he freezes, breathing heavy, eyes wide with both fear & adoration as you climb on top of him.
“say it again.”
“i…like you.”
“no, the other one.”
oh. “i love you.”
sato gulps. “i love you. i love you i love you i love you—“
you press your lips to his own as he holds your hips. he still says ‘i love you’ between your lips.
BONUS #1 — Y/N’S MESSAGES !
——
baby :)
😂😂 lol
you don’t expect me to acc believe this right?
do you know how many times you’ve hurt me these last few weeks and i let it go because my dumbass was in love with you?
*liked you
i was vulnerable and asked if you truly liked me and u said u don’t know and some other dumbass shit
that’s so fucked
you’re so fucked
you’re not fair to me that’s not fair sato
you say you’re sorry and you like me but you can’t even say it to my face? how is that fair? huh sato?
sato
sato?
are you okay
sato
i’m coming over
BONUS #2 – EPILOGUE !
it’s friday again, the end of the week, and sato gojo is at the airport with a grin on his face. his best friend is finally back in town & sato is practically vibrating.
“well, if it isn’t our casanova.”
“suguru!” sato tackles him in a hug. geto laughs, feet wobbly, patting at sato’s back affectionately. “you’ve got a girl now, mate. back up a bit, yeah?”
sato pulls back, frowning. “no more british accents.”
suguru smiles, “no more.”
in the car they talk about everything. sato should be driving but instead he plays passenger princess, recounting the last few weeks without him.
“so you’ve finally gotten the girl.” geto hums.
“yup.”
“and you told her you loved her before you even started dating.”
sato bites his lip. “yes.”
“you’re down bad.”
“i know.”
“i’m glad you’re happy, y’know,” geto is talking but sato’s phone dings in his lap. that special notification sound he’s set up only for you.
mine🫀: are you still picking up geto?
sato grins.
—
sato: you miss me, baby?
mine🫀: shut up
i’m still at the library
sato: i know babygirl i’m omw
mine🫀: nooo don’t come here
i need to study and u won’t let me focus
sato: thought i was your favorite distraction? 💔
mine🫀: ha. ha. don’t come here
sato: too late already at the exit
mine🫀: SATO
—-
“sato? are you listening?”
“sorry,” sato mutters, locking his phone. his knee is bouncing & his chest feels light. god, he’s so in love. “take the next left. suguru, do you know ryomen fucked with our sims’ marriage?”
“he what?”
“i need you to make a sim for y/n. i want to marry her instead,” sato hums. he’s clicking his phone on & off now, clearly not waiting for your next notification.
“i told that fucker not to touch my game.”
sato licks his canines. “that boy doesn’t listen.”
suguru’s grumbling now, something about a ‘good for nothing porn addict’ and ‘fuckass exhibitionist kink’ but sato only hums along in the passengers seat. then his phone dings again.
mine🫀: [Image Attachment]
he clicks on it way too fast.
and it’s a picture of you, phone in your lap & pouting down at the camera. your hair’s all messy in your face & your lips are bent in the cutest frown. god, you’re so beautiful. god god god.
he licks his lips. types back: ‘i love you my baby.’
“sato—? sato? what the fuck, man.” suguru’s still gripping the wheel, eyes on the road. “i’ve been talking for two minutes. who’s got you smiling like that?”
[𝜗℘] :: sukuna is shameless—not caring if anyone catches him righteously claiming ownership over his favorite concubine in the gardens.
゛ tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!reader. smut, pwp. exhibitionism. size diff. dumbification \\ objectification. has two c.ocks. hair pulling. use of spit. breeding. overstim. reader gets called ‘little girl, doll, slut’ :: wc. 1.5k
“shut up. i don’t care if they’re here or not,” sukuna grunts, tightening his grip on your fleshy thighs as his lower cock slams in and out your sloppy cunt without much thought.
the sound of pruning shears cutting off branches is easily overwhelmed by the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin.
you feel sorry for the servants who’re doing their job tending to the garden. none of them dare to look your way. they’re sweating, eyes solely focused on the branches, acting like they’re not hearing the sinful moans and grunts in the distance.
if they look, they’re dead. that much is known.
everything is blurry to you. all you can manage to do is let out a string of pleasure filled whines. your body is easily overpowered and held up against the harsh wood of the nearby wall. your thighs are spread in an awfully painful way, your knees up to your chest. quite literally folded in half.
“i said eyes on me, y’ fuckin’ slut,” sukuna barks.
he doesn’t have the patience today. you breaking the intense eye contact with him only worsens his mood. one of his veiny hands tug at your hair. the others hold you up—not allowing you to even think of getting back on your feet until your tight cunt is done milking him for what he’s worth.
you gasp and sukuna takes the chance to grab your jaw with yet another free hand. “open y’r mouth,” his hips do not still for even a second.
they roll and ground against yours, the surrounding skin near his pelvis stained with your wet juices. he can smell it. just as nasty and dirty as he wants it to be.
you part your lips and keep them like that, not wanting to piss sukuna off even more. he grins at the sight of your red tongue instinctively rolling out like the obedient woman you are.
he spits right into your mouth, “swallow.”
you do so without second thought. the warm liquid trickles down your throat.
sukuna watches in satisfaction, drilling into you until your insides are complete mush. you’re drooling over yourself already—clearly having lost control over your rationality.
you sniffle and try to hold onto sukuna’s biceps. your small fingers curl around the shape of them, nails digging into his flesh. every time you think he’s finally letting up, he only increases his inhuman pace.
“my l-lord, ‘s too much,” you cry out.
your body can only handle so much pleasure before it’d break down. your pussy is convulsing around his girthy cock, feeling his other sliding back and forth over your sensitive clit.
the king of curses shuts you up with a hiss. his bottom set of eyes is focused on the impressive scene of your tiny pussy swallowing his cock so easily. he’s feeling proud of the fact that he’s molded you into the perfect concubine for him and his carnal pleasure.
sukuna has fucked you silly enough times to know how to get you under his spell. his fingers brush over your hard nipples, grabbing the squishy flesh of your tits as they bounce with each of his thrusts. he leans his head down towards yours.
his rough, raspy voice makes your body heat up, “no, no. it’s never too much for my little girl, right? she can easily take ‘nother load f’me.”
your breath hitches and sukuna realises it’s working. he knows just what to say to manipulate you into giving in. so he can fuck you senseless for how long he wants.
you’re a sucker for the fact that he calls you his. that’s what you are—you’re his woman. only his and no one else’s. the claim of ownership makes your pussy clench.
“mghh yes, my lord. i can take another, i can,” you breathe out, head swaying from side to side, not mentally able anymore to keep up with sukuna’s intense libido. yet, your body is still active, squeezing around his dick as he promises you more of his precious cum.
the king of curses snickers, amused by just how fast you gave in.
“that’s what i thought, hah,” he’s realised that his hold on you knows no bounds. you’re his toy. the only one he wants to ravish these days. and the only one worth of carrying his seed.
you’re still thinking about the way he’s called you ‘his little girl’. it’s driving you closer to the edge. you start to get louder, completely ignoring your inner thoughts that begged you to have some decorum; to try and hide the fact that you’re getting slutted out in the courtyard.
there’s not much hiding it anyway since the servants have a clear understanding of what’s going on behind them. “ngh, please—please need more!” you mewl and sukuna listens.
his red eyes darken with desire as you get into it. he loves to experience that lust driven side of yours. a complete opposite to your usual formal and shy self.
“louder, c’mon. let them know i’m fucking you good,” sukuna sneers, enjoying the mind games he is playing with you.
you’re too cockdrunk to even notice. the ‘them’ in his sentence refers to his other concubines. he knows that you’re secretly craving to get revenge on them and show them just how well you get dicked down by him every single day.
unlike them, who rarely get graced by his touch. that is, when you’re unavailable.
you do as told and increase the volume of your erotic moans, letting everyone around the estate know what you’re getting up to. not like anyone can interfere. sukuna wouldn’t dare let them live a second after.
“that’s it, yeah,” he grunts and rams his length repeatedly into you, cursing at the way you’re gripping him so tightly. you’re so dripping wet that he slips out of you for a second. he moves his hips, angling them better to slam back inside of you.
however, you’re one step ahead. your shaky hand reaches down between your legs and you quickly guide his tip to your entrance, urging him to push between your moist folds again.
“nasty fuckin’ girl,” sukuna scoffs at your desperation, though secretly thrives off it. he switches cocks and shoves the upper one into your cunt.
you gasp. you’re so used to him to the point that you can sense the difference between his dicks. the upper one has more veins and is a tad bit girthier. you hiccup and nearly choke on your own moans and spit from the change of pace and dicks.
“oh! ‘tis so deep, my lord—” you whine loudly and your hands move to hold your breasts, stopping them from painfully jiggling around in every direction.
sukuna hums in content as he continues his rough thrusts. he can feel his balls twitch and clench, ready to shoot his sperm all up in your womb like you deserve. though, he doesn’t want to end this moment too quickly.
he wants to extend it.
“c’mere,” sukuna grumbles and stops pounding your poor, aching cunt. he stills his dick inside you and allows you to cling onto his tall stature, lifting you away from the wall. he silently urges you to wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you.
the robes of your kimono get left behind on the patch of grass near the wall of the main house. there’s a few droplets of white liquid that’s stained the grass, right where sukuna and you were standing at seconds ago.
you don’t think about anything anymore as you babble about how full you felt with his cock all the way in you. the fat tip brushes against your cervix with each step sukuna takes towards his next destination.
“keep talkin’ to me, doll. tell me how good it feels to take my cock,” he grins smugly as he carries your little body like a trophy into the main building—not paying mind to any maids who he passes by. they’re shocked by the sight of their lady in such a state, though are only able to bow at the two of you.
sukuna finally stops in front of the dinner table. the same table you always have dinner at with him and his other women. he places your back against the surface, big hands holding you down by your hips.
“there we go,” he coos mockingly, seeing how you’re completely fucked out, yet still needing more of him.
the king of curses has his own twisted reasons of bringing you here. looking outside of the window, you notice how the sun is starting to set. that’s also the moment you realise his hidden motive.
the other concubines will sooner or later gather at the dining hall to eat supper. they’d expect a peaceful meal, though instead, they’ll be greeted by the sight of their dear lord screwing his favorite. it’ll be a painful blow to them.
which is exactly what the ruthless man wants to achieve.
sukuna licks his lips and all of his eyes focus on you solely, “gonna enjoy my dinner a bit earlier t’day, yeah?”
warnings - 18+ please! suggestive in the end, featuring robby, jack jealousy+lowk insecure, reader doesnt have established pronouns yet
previous | next
a/n - ok so again this happened to me.. on the second slide when it has robby say "who ever calls you michael nobody hence why hes jealous" pretend its reader saying that😭
How it feels to genuinely enjoy the Pitt and not get caught up on every little bad thing a character has done because they’re all complex human beings and none of them are truly evil like everyone in this fandom seems to think
🕷️ Synopsis: Pittsburg gets their very own superhero who tends to favor a certain ER when dropping off injured civilians. What the Pitt staff doesn't know is that one of their day-shift residents has a night-shift of their own.
🕷️ Headcannons Pt. 1 Pt. 2
🕷️ Incorrect Quotes Pt. 1
One Shots . . .
🕸️ Clinical Tingles (5.9k)
During the day, you maintain the chronically late and clumsy persona that keeps your attending and charge nurse on the edge of concern and suspicion. It all goes well until one certain night shift attending starts connecting the dots.
🕸️ Emergency Trach Tutorial, No Glue, No Borax (1.9k)
Not knowing what else to do and one Youtube video later, you successfully performed an emergency tracheostomy on an injured civilian. This causes quite the stir in the Pitt not even an hour into the day shift.
🕸️ Talk Me Off the Ledge (3.8k)
As the night melts into day, you have the chance to show up early to work for once. That is until the sight of Jack Abbot, who's a little too close to the edge, makes you stop and try to get him to back away.
🕸️ Nobody But Him (7.8k)
When your shoulder gets dislocated and you can't put it back in, your only option seems to be checking yourself into the ER, but there're two catches: you'll only be seen by Dr. Jack Abbot, and he doesn't work on secret-hiding-masked patients.
🕸️ Of Spatulas and Mario Kart (4.5k)
Needing a breather from the villain of the week, you find an open window leading to an apartment. However, what you don't expect is for a spatula to be thrown your way the minute you step foot into the living room, scaring its two occupants that happen to be your fellow residents.
🕸️ I've Been Incorrectly Labeled (5.6k)
Public figure to public menace sends the city spiraling into a mass panic. Through handling villains and saving lives, you're also evading police officers every time you try to drop off injured civilians at the Pitt. But even without knowing your identity, the staff seems to claim you as their own, meaning they'll keep you safe for as long as they can.
🕸️ Stay With Me, Kid (10.2k)
Jack knew there were dangers of you living a double life. He'd been there for the small scrapes and non-threatening injuries. However, he wasn't prepared for you to be dragged through the ER doors after a battle that leaves you fighting for your life.
🕸️ Cheaters Never Prosper (Unless You're Jack Abbot) (4.8k)
The hero knows way too much about first aid to be a regular citizen. Knowing this, the Pitt staff starts a bet: the hero works in some capacity at an ER. Some even go further to bet that they work at the Pitt. Knowing what he knows, Jack joins in on the latter.
🕸️ How to Find Someone Before They Break (9.9k)
Super senses can be a bitch. Noises are too loud, fabrics are too scratchy, and the never-ending feeling that something bad is going to happen gets overstimulating pretty quickly. And yet, you know exactly where everyone is during a shift; a special talent that actually comes in handy more than you'd realize.
🕸️ Hi, My Name Is . . . (12.7k)
Everything went downhill too fast, and the next morning, you're left with nothing. No job, no boyfriend, no . . . identity. It all leaves a hole in your chest that you're desperate to fill back up. But you find yourself questioning if them forgetting is better for everyone.
♯ really need to step up my writing skills.. please never get bored of my domestic choso
Dating Choso for a few months had been surprisingly normal.
At first, he was quiet, respectful of your space, and very careful with every touch.
Honestly, you thought he'd always be that shy. How can you not? He'd hold your hands gently, sitting closely but not too close, and ask before kissing you.
Then somewhere along the way, something changed.
Maybe he was getting comfortable. But whatever the reason was, your boyfriend slowly transformed into the clingiest man alive.
"Choso."
"Hm?"
You turned your head to look at him, letting out a small laugh. "Why are you standing there?"
He blinked once. "I missed you."
You tilted your head. "I was gone for five minutes, to the bathroom."
"It felt longer," He frowned slightly.
You laughed under your breath, turning back toward the kitchen counter. "You're getting clingy."
Quiet footsteps approached behind you.
Then, you felt his warmth behind you. His arms slipped around your waist with his chin settled on top of your head, like this had become a second nature to him.
"Choso," you sighed fondly. "I'm trying to cook here."
"You can still do that," he murmured.
"Not when my boyfriend is attached to me."
"I like being close to you."
Over time, he grew clingier in small ways.
Hand resting on your thigh whenever you sat next to each other, quietly following you around the apartment, pulling you back into bed whenever you tried getting up.
Today was no different.
You had almost escaped, almost.
Your foot was already on the floor, ready to start the day.
Then the mattress dipped behind you. A sleepy groan echoed through the room before something warm enveloped your waist.
"Mm, stay," he grumbles.
You laughed quietly. "Good morning to you too," you whispered.
You glanced over your shoulder to look at him. His hair was a mess, eyes barely open as he clung to you.
"Too early," he mumbled as he buried his face deeper against your back.
"It's almost ten."
"So?"
"So.. it's not early?" You said, rubbing his hair.
His arms tightened slightly around your waist as you tried to move again.
"Just stay."
You sighed. "I need to get up."
Suddenly, you were pulled backward onto the mattress with a surprised laugh. Choso immediately curled around you again.
"Hey!" You tried to push him, playfully, but he won't move.
You turned slightly in his hold, only to find him already staring at you with those sleepy eyes.
"Let's make a deal, Cho," you said suddenly.
Choso blinked once before propping his head with his hand.
"What deal?"
"You let me get out of bed," you added. "And when i come back, we can cuddle all day. Maybe we can have lunch in bed?"
Choso went quiet immediately.
Slowly, his grip on your waits loosened.
"Lunch in bed?"
"Mhm."
"Together, right?"
You laughed softly. "Of course."
Choso hummed thoughtfully, still unconvinced. But after a moment, he finally let his arm fall away from your waist.
"Fine," he mumbled. "But make it quick."
You smiled triumphantly, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "Deal."
The second you pulled away, Choso caught your wrist again.
"Can you bring me with you?"
You tilted your head. "To.. where?"
"Wherever you're going."
"Wherever i'm going," you repeated, trying not to smile. "Even when i'm brushing my teeth?"
"Mhm," Choso nodded against the pillow. "I'll wait."
You stared at him for a moment before pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.
"You're actually attached to me now."
Choso leaned in to the kiss, looking completely unashamed. "I don't see a problem."
You’ve had a huuuge problem from the moment you woke up, it was choso your clingy boyfriend. His strong build rests atop of you as he snores into your neck. His warm breath behind your ear, about twenty minutes ago he mumbled a bunch of nonsense as you tried to get up from bed.
The only thing you caught was ‘stay here with me, five more minutes’ and though choso is a man of his word, it’s past twenty minutes.
“Cho,” you say attempting to lift his sleeping body from on top of you, “choooo” you drag out. “hmm, baby I want to stay here.” he murmurs. “on top of you.” he presses lots of kisses to your neck. “can you move your girls day to another date?”
You huff, “I canceled on them ONCE and now you want it to become a frequent thing—no, choo I’ve gotta get ready” he lifts his head from your neck, sleepy eyes locked onto your pleading ones. “you’re so perfect..” he murmurs.
“Can I atleast help you get ready? please?”
“I have to shower first.”
“Can I shower with you, baby?” he leans down and kisses your lips. You snort, “fine..but only shower that’s it.”
“What kind of a guy do you take me for hm?”
“A perv.”
You two make it into the shower, and fuck, Choso was just not listening today. He held you by the waist, your legs wrapped around his waist as he relentlessly pounds into your soaked pussy. “f-fuck baby you feel so good.” You whine, your hot breath on his neck. “Ch-choso you’re such an asshole.”
“I told you we should only sho-“ and before you could finish your train of thought his pace picks up, leaving no mercy for you. “y/n, can I see your face?” The hot water trickles down your back as you sit up making immense eye contact with him. “what?” he smiles.
“There’s my pretty girl, we’re almost done I’ll wash you up after.”
𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯
You tried on many different outfits but you just couldn’t find anything. “Choooo” you drag out, he immediately comes running you can hear him trip on his way. “Yes?” You snort, “I can’t find anything to wear.” You pout.
“And that’s what I’m here for.” He takes a seat on the chair by your vanity. “Cmon baby give me a fashion show.” He grabs some chips that were disregarded on a night stand. “My game could wait.”
The first few outfits already had him foaming at the mouth, “Fuck, baby I don’t want you to leave.” His fists are clenched, trying to restrain himself. You smile to yourself, “no can do.”
The moment you walked out in the fourth outfit, he moved immediately. Standing over you and gripping you by the waist. “Can I suck your pussy? I want to—“ he goes on his knees, unbuttoning the low rise shorts as you yelp. “Cho we just showered.” He shakes his head. “I don’t care, I want to taste you, your sweetness baby.”
You let out a sigh, as he pulls your panties aside. “Wanna sit on my face?” You knew you weren’t gonna be able to leave the house at all today. “fuck you cho,” you murmur as you lower your body onto his tongue.
jeez choso let your girl go out !! anyways what do you guys wanna see? Leave requests!! Luv you - Dea
[𝜗℘] :: being bullied because you’re true form!sukuna’s favorite concubine is nothing out of the ordinary. but when he finally notices the harassment, he doesn’t hold back.
“she’s got nothing going on for her,” “right? i don’t get what he sees in her,” “tch—he’s only using her for her body anyway,” “duhh. he can’t be pleased by her looks. i mean, she’s really ugly. i bet he thinks of her as just ‘nother hole to use. . .”
and the shushed gossips continue. the concubines hanging around the garden have noticed your arrival, though do nothing to stop badmouthing you. they can’t care less if you hear what they say.
you’re used to it by now. you’ve adjusted to this life of yours as one of sukuna’s concubines. his favourite at that—which automatically makes you a victim of verbal (and sometimes physical) harassment. the other women in the sorcerer’s harem can’t stand you.
your eyes are glued to the path you’re walking on. your lady-in-waiting doesn’t utter a single word as well, holding her head low as she follows behind you.
you know that the concubines will immediately pick on you if you make eye contact with one of them.
it’s moments like these where you actually miss sukuna. his intimidating presence and (in)direct threats would immediately make the others fall silent. you wouldn’t have to hear them call you nasty names.
though, unlucky you, sukuna’s out on business. uraume is left as a temporary supervisor of the entire estate. to make sure nothing goes wrong. despite all of that, you still find yourself in an unfortunate predicament.
“hey. we’re talking to you,” a female voice rings from behind you.
it isn’t your lady-in-waiting, but the brown-haired woman whom you recognise as one of sukuna’s concubines. her name. . . you can’t recall.
she forcefully pushes your shoulder with two fingers. you stumble backwards, nearly tripping over the material of your kimono. you look down at the hem and notice a subtle muddy stain on the cloth now that you’ve accidentally stepped on it.
you curse the woman out under your breath. the kimono is one of your favorites since sukuna had it made and tailored to suit your taste.
“my apologies,” you mumble politely. you do not wish to make a scene as much as you want to defend yourself. not in front of those poor servants who are simply minding their business and tending to the garden.
the lady scoffs. another one joins. soon, four of them surround you, leaving you no place to escape the situation. with every step you take back, they take one forward. it’s intimidating, though you try to make it seem like you’re not afraid of their words.
“tell me,” the blonde one speaks up and her hand trails up your arm. she twirls a strand of your hair around her index finger before harshly tugging at it. you wince, but she doesn’t budge, “tell me what sukuna sees in a worthless slut like you.”
it’s about sukuna every time. you’re getting sick of the way they treat you because of something you can’t control. you don’t know why he favors you out of all the other women at his service. the way you’re treated because of something that you cannot change is getting frustrating.
the brown-haired woman follows the other lady. she pushes you until the back of your shoe bumps against the edge of a fountain. the grande fountain in the yard that you always love to admire.
the tugs at your hair get stronger. your patience is wearing thin. you take some time to reply to the other concubines, hoping to silence them for now.
you look up at the group surrounding you—a grin tugging at your lips as you decide to taunt them. you scoff, “hah. you can’t blame me for satisfying my lord better than all of you could do together.”
audible gasps sound from the group of concubines. they can’t believe you had the audacity to talk back and be disrespectful about it. the comment you made clearly struck a nerve. or in this case multiple.
“oh, you slut!” the blonde one shrieks, clearly more than upset by your doubts about her services as a concubine.
in a flash of rage, she gives you a firm push, sending you backwards until you fall into the fountain with a loud splash.
your lady-in-waiting is the one gasping this time. she looks at you with great worry in her eyes, not knowing if she needs to go fetch uraume or not. she doesn’t have much say in the matter either way.
you’re humiliated by this. you can feel the water seep into the robes of your kimono, staining the beloved material. your hair is wet as well, the water droplets falling off the ends of your locks.
“pah, you look pathetic,” one of the lower ranking concubines chimes in—giggling at the unfortunate situation you got yourself in. the others follow with their own high pitched laughs, “serves you right.”
you don’t even know what you should do. your body feels heavy because of the water wetting your clothes. your nails drag along the fountain’s surface, trying to compose yourself before you do anything irrational.
you grit your teeth and take a deep breath. you’re shaking, both because of the cold settling over your body as well as the anger simmering inside of you. you open your mouth to say something, only to be interrupted.
by someone you didn’t expect to see any time soon.
“enough.”
the deep tone sends chills down your spine. the volume of the male voice nearly shakes the ground. it’s powerful, dominant and quite aggressive. as if the owner of the voice is pissed. no, more than that.
the group of concubines freeze, not even daring to turn around and face the unexpected visitor. you notice your lady-in-waiting immediately falling to her knees, bowing at the man whom you know very well.
“my lord,” you stammer out, being the first to speak up and address him.
you’re surprised to see sukuna back this early from his business trip. he normally stays away from the estate for days on end.
sukuna’s footsteps are heavy. his strides are menacingly slow. the aura surrounding him makes the others shake—one concubine being smart enough to bow to him. the king of curses is not one to be messed with, especially when he’s angry.
“tsk. have you lost all your respect while i was gone?” sukuna growls, seeing how the group of concubines are frozen in place with fearful expressions on their faces.
the fact that they’re not bowing before him worsens his temper, “kneel.”
he raises one hand and they all knew what was going to happen. you squeal and shut your eyes, hearing that familiar and dooming sound of slashes around you. it doesn’t sound like they’ve hit anything, so you peek through your eyelashes.
you see how the group of women have dropped to their knees the instant sukuna raised his hand in that specific manner. everyone knew just what that meant; death to anyone who’s got their head held high in his presence.
you’ve all seen enough people get decapitated by that same action to know that the sorcerer was not playing around.
sukuna scoffs. he walks up towards you, ignoring the pleas of the other concubines that are begging for his forgiveness. his bottom set of eyes look down at them with disdain before focusing on your figure again.
he silently stands still at the edge of the fountain. his large frame looms over you and you find yourself struggling to get up from the water to bow at him as well. you keep your eyes on your lap, “i’m sorry, my lord.”
sukuna hisses at your apology. a warning for you to shut your mouth. you’re apologising when it’s not your fault and that irritates him more than anything. two of his strong arms reach down to pick you up from your vulnerable position.
the king of curses hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. he’s not bothered by the fact that you’re dripping wet. in fact, both of his left arms wrap around your torso in attempt to warm you up.
“stay. you’ll all be dealt with accordingly when i return,” sukuna harshly orders your aggressors as he turns around and walks away from the group. he carries you in his arms, not sparing a single glance at his concubines.
he doesn’t even care that he stepped on one of the women’s hands as he passed by. the high pitched shriek only serves to annoy him, which you notice by the way he squeezes your waist in response.
it’s silent between you two for a bit. sukuna steps inside of the estate, his ominous aura making you hesistant to speak. you decide to stay quiet for the sake of keeping the peace. for now.
sukuna’s breathing is a little heavy. he’s trying not to lash out or say anything hurtful. he doesn’t like raising his voice at you—but sometimes he feels like he needs to. especially when you land in situations like those.
“how long has this been going on?” sukuna asks through a heavy sigh. his red eyes are focused on the end of the hallway, where his chambers lay. the veins in his neck look like they could pop out any second now, “and don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me, y’hear?”
you gulp. you’ve never been so nervous to answer him, ever. you attempt to respond, “uhm, for quite a while, my lord.”
sukuna breathes in sharply at the revelation. the fact that you did not specify your answer only made him think that it’s worse than you’re making it out to be. he stops in his tracks, two hands on your waist as he forces you to face him.
your body dangles in the air as sukuna makes you look at him from up close, showing you that dangerous look in his eyes. you do not dare to avert your gaze from his as he speaks.
“you should’ve told me the moment they started disrespecting you like that,” sukuna grunts. another big hand grabs your jaw firmly, squeezing your cheeks together. you whine as it hurts a little.
he scoffs and releases your jaw with a light push, “pathetic.”
you feel your body get thrown into your original position once more. your head is upside down and your legs hang limply over his shoulder.
you try to defend yourself in a quiet tone, “i thought you were too busy. i didn’t want to bother you with such unimportant matters.”
it’s true. as much as you wanted to tell sukuna about the mistreatment you were receiving, you knew how busy he was attending to more urgent business. you didn’t want to annoy him with your own problems that you could easily solve.
if only you could stand up for yourself.
“nonsense,” sukuna raises his voice in a moment of weakness, though remembers that you’ve probably been through enough for the day. he doesn’t need to add to that by treating you like shit as well.
he simply sighs it off in annoyance, “unimportant, huh? ‘s that how you think i view you?”
you raise an eyebrow at sukuna’s last sentence. you’re at a loss for words. you know sukuna values you more than any of his other concubines—it’s the main reason you’re getting bullied for—yet you never heard him speak to you in such a surprisingly soft way.
almost like he’s disappointed that you don’t realise the extent of his favoritsm. he cares about you more than you actually think he does.
“i-i’m sorry, my lord,” you stutter. you really do not have a clue about what to say. all you can do is apologise as you’re left overthinking that one little sentence he said.
“brat,” sukuna quickly regains his usual stoic and stern composure.
he reaches his chambers and enters his personal bathroom before putting you down on your feet. he looks down at your short stature, feeling the warmth of your body leave his skin once you’re separated.
sukuna watches you shiver. he wants to get angry at you for not telling him about anything that’s been going on while he’s not present, though he simply cannot at the moment.
he’ll let you off the hook for now. but, he’s surely going to give you your own special scolding after he’s taken care of the other concubines. the man grabs a large towel from nearby and messily wraps it around your upper body.
sukuna turns around to walk out of his bathroom, looking over his shoulder once more, “get dressed into somethin’ else before you catch a cold.”
he calls for a couple servants to tend to you while he’s away to take care of those deviant concubines. sukuna watches the three maids rush to your service, preparing you a new set of clothes as well as trying to dry you off.
his gaze lingers on you for more than is necessary, his jaw clenching at the sight of you trembling from the low temperatures you’re experiencing. sukuna’s going to make sure those other women pay for what they’ve done to you.
he leaves the bathroom after that, though not without leaving you an order to follow;
synopsisa patient tells you older is always better, Jack wants to know if you can confirm that.
warningsSMUT. MDNI. Oral (f and m receiving) fingering, dirty talk, slight dom Jack, penetration, p in v. language
authornotei dont even think god will take me after this one. this aint proofread
“So you think older is better?”
“Like anything good,” said Lu as you cleaned out her leg, pulling the light over to find the grit. “Like cheese... wine... sex.”
Your lips quipped up and you nodded. You didn't know how you started talking about this- you'd only asked what she was doing and how she fell. Date with an older guy, she said, was walking back from his when I fell. It must have been more of a tumble, roll and fall from the state of her leg that had got her through the waiting room and triage.
The next thing you knew she was highlighting how good sex was with an older man.
“It's like they have the experience and the confidence and they care more about getting you off than they do themselves,” she said.
“How many dates have you been on with the guy?” you asked, only trying to keep conversation while you plucked out the gravel. Trying to distract yourself from thinking about sex and older.
“Oh, this was the first one,” said Lu, laid back on the bed with a dreamy look in her eyes. “We've been talking for a few months on this app for older guys to meet women who are younger and interested. We met tonight and I had the best sex ever.”
The pling of gravel on the metal tray echoed out.
“You got a boyfriend?” she asked you.
You were silent, acting as if you were focused on the gravel. “I don't.”
Lu smirked at your silence. “But you got somebody?”
To that you had nothing to say. Maybe you did have somebody- or at least someone came to mind. Grey hair, stubbled chin and dark eyes in the shape of a doctor.
“Oh you got somebody,” said Lu.
You managed two more pieces of gravel and glass before she opened her mouth to speak again, to probably ask you another question but at the same time the door opened, bringing with it a small snap of the bustling sounds of the Pitt at night and the faint air of woodland and grease.
“How we doing in here?”
Jack walked in like he was un-aware to how you'd thought about him and then he came like you'd conjured him up. His grey hair, short stubble at the chin that he quickly rubbed at and dark eyes evaluating.
You betrayed yourself in looking to Lu.
“Is this him?” she asked, eyes lighting up.
Jack looked between the two of you. “Talking about me again, doc?” Jack asked.
You were focused on the task at hand but you didn't need to look to find him at your side, diligently watching you work.
“All good things,” said Lu.
He huffed out a little smile, hands held behind his back. His eyes bore into your head. “I'm Doctor Jack Abbott, I see you're in good hands here. How're her bloods?”
“Bloods are all clear though blood pressure is a bit high, we wanna keep an eye on that,” you said.
Jack nodded. “Well I'm sorry you're night took an unfortunate turn, Miss Marigold.”
She shrugged, rumpling her black dress. It was sleek and fit her in ways you could never imagine the dress fitting you. “Meh, it was pretty much done anyway.”
You were too caught up in the gossip she had been giving you that you didn't think about Jack not being informed. “He kicked you out?”
“No,” she said. “I left. Didn't want that awkward after sex small talk.”
“That's called aftercare.”
It was such a thrown away comment in Jack's words. He said it like he was prescribing her morphine. But the words rushed to your body, jolted you awake and alert to his presence.
Aftercare to some may have been normal, you didn't know other peoples sexual habits- you only knew yours and aftercare wasn't part of it. Your... sexual partners were few and far between and also loved to use your bathroom and sleep it off. Besides that was months ago before you started night shifts. Now your sex life was nothing but dry dry dry with the only occasional fantasy of your attending keeping you going.
“How old are you, Doctor Abbott?” asked your patient.
You caught Jack's smirk.
“Don't you know you should never ask a gentleman his age?” he said.
“Forties? Fifties?”
“Well I'm glad you ruled out thirties.”
You laughed.
“Are you single?”
“You asking?”
“And what do you think about younger women?” Lu asked with seemingly no shame. You carried it all in the blaze of heat in your cheeks.
“I don't know if this is an appropriate conversation to be having,” you said, trying to deflect. Looking between them, you found Lu waiting with curious eyes, not at all uncomfortable and Jack... surprisingly much of the same.
“You mean how do I feel about dating younger women?” asked Jack, standing at the other side of her bed.
In your eyeline.
“There's this app, called 'Always go older' it's catered for men over forty meeting younger women with similar interests. Go on dates, have long term relationships, or just sex.”
You couldn't believe the conversation you had been having with her before Jack came in, making the small space of the exam room even smaller. Having it with him in the room was your idea of a nightmare.
Jack nodded slowly, considering. “An app for... sugar daddies?”
You looked up at him. “You know what sugar daddies are?”
He pursed his lips at you in disappointment. “I'm old, I'm not clueless.”
“If you're interested I can get you a great discount,” said Lu like this was a business meeting. “Both of you.”
Jack looked at you but you missed whatever his eyes were trying to convey when you realised this app cost.
“You have to pay?”
“To be a member yeah, there can be a lot of creeps out there and they do real good work to make sure they're not in the club. You interested?”
“Not if I have to pay,” you said, thinking first of your bank account and nothing else. You only realised once you'd said it what it sounded like.
That you were interested. That older men and dating for you were hand in hand.
You looked up hoping at least Jack wouldn't have noticed. His eyes were on you, an amused tilt to his lips. “Okay!” you stood up, pulling off your gloves. “All the gravel and glass is out but I'm gonna get another blood test in to check your alcohol levels. I'll call a nurse to dress you up and we'll keep you for observation on that blood pressure.”
She nodded. “Do you think I could do a pregnancy test too? Just, while I'm here.”
Jack approached your side, watching you again. His head was tilted up but his eyes were down on you. He was attending but as always he waited on your say. He never overstepped, never made assumptions, always let you lead with your gut.
You wondered if that was what younger women were looking for...
“Sure, I'll get you a pot for a urine sample and we can get those tests.”
“Were you practising safe sex?” asked Jack.
Lu stretched out on the bed, pulling at the seams of her dress at her cleavage. “It feels better without.”
Jack seemed un-bothered, if anything understanding as his head slowly bobbed in a nod.
You'd never had sex without a condom before. Never wanted to risk it.
Jack held the door open for you, letting you lead the way out.
It was noisier and busier yet it was easier to breath. At least for a second before Jack's body brushed yours as he walked next to you.
“Is she a cop? Feel like we were being interrogated in there.”
“That or she gets paid to promote the app.”
You slid into a chair desperately trying not to look at the clock. You had a bad habit of doing so and the night would drag on. You pulled up her chart and distracted yourself with repeating what you'd already said to avoid the inevitable conversation you were gonna be having with Jack.
His mouth opened and you beat him to it.
“I swear we just started talking about that, I was just asking her how she fell and she told me about the guy and started talking about sex and the date and the app, I... I did not invite that conversation.”
He nodded. “It's okay if you did.”
“I didn't.”
“Okay.”
There was silence between you. Your finger moves quickly over the keyboard and Abbott stayed stood there, watching.
“If you're interested-”
“- I'm not,” you said, quickly, without really knowing what he was asking for.
Jack held his hands up in surrender. “Older men aren't too bad.”
“Oh no, I'm-I'm sure they're great, I have nothing against age, you know, old's great! Like.... like wine! Or-or cheese! I just, I mean, my love life- sex life is kinda, urm-” you stumbled over your words. It was annoying how Jack just stood there, letting you, without stopping or helping. “I just don't really have the time for dating.”
You worked nights and in the day you were catching up on sleeping and eating. The furthest your date life got was phone calls with Jack when he was grocery shopping and wanted your opinion, or sometimes in the morning when you got breakfast together before heading back.
He always walked you home, even if it meant an extra half hour before he got home. He was a gentleman like that.
He was still calm as he held his hands behind his back and watched you. “Are you looking to date?”
You chuckled. “Ha, you know a guy who works as crazy shifts as me?”
Jack's eyes lowered to yours. “Maybe. Might be a bit older though.”
You realised what he meant just as an ETA was called in.
The ETA had turned into five and for the rest of the night you and Abbott were too busy with the rest of the team to brush by each other. Every move was a hard move of shoulders to not bump or ripping of the gowns off and the harsh change of gloves. There was no time to talk about anything through the night, let alone whatever the hell had happened at the start of shift.
Your small reprise came when a man dressed in the makings of a rushed man walked in as the clock was striking past five in the morning.
“Excuse me, I'm looking for Lu Mari-gold?”
His hair was silver and growing at the back of his neck. It was brushed back handsomely and though he clearly must have been in his fifties (at least) he had a head full of hair and stubble growing on his chin.
He was handsome and even more so when you saw the bouquet of flowers he held in hand.
“Are you- are you family?”
“No I'm uh- I'm her partner.”
So you escorted him to her room, letting him in and giving him a small update on her care. He set the flowers next to her and you lingered, diligently checking her chart.
“Why'd you leave, honey?” he asked, sitting on the edge of her bed and petting back her hair.
“Oh you know,” she said, casually. “Didn't want to do the whole awkward morning after thing.”
“There'd be nothing awkward about it. I was gonna make you breakfast, had plans to make love two you in the morning.”
Your cheeks flamed up as he said it so casually, like he was laying out a list for morning plans which.... he well was.
You decided to give them some privacy and save yourself form listening. You gently closed the door over and watched them through. He kissed her gently on the forehead, cradling her and Lu soaked it all in in adoring eyes and gentle touches.
It was a sort of tender touch you weren't used to even seeing, let alone feeling.
“Hey,” there was a ghost of a touch on the small of your back and Jack came to stand next to you. “That her boyfriend?”
“Yeah, though I don't know if they're their yet,” you admitted. “They only met tonight- well, last night. But she ran out.”
“And he came to her,” observed Jack. “They'll be just fine.”
“How'd you know?”
“The way he looks at her.”
When you looked at Jack he was already looking at you.
The thousand moments between the two of you played out. The gentle ghosts of a hand, the watchful moments but Jack was like that with a lot of people, attentive.
Your eyes fluttered as you looked away from him to the scene playing out again. “Are you some sort of relationship whisperer?”
He huffed a small amused laugh and followed your eyes to look ahead. “I just know things.”
It wasn't long before Lu and her partner were walking out, the flowers in hand as his arm was around her waist, supporting her.
They stopped off by the nurses counter where both you and Jack lingered working on separate cases.
“We just wanted to say thank you,” said Lu. “And here. There's a ninety percent success rate.”
She handed you a business card with the app name and promo code applied.
“Oh, er, thank you,” you said, un-sure on what to say other than a thanks.
Lu smiled kindly, leaning in to you as subtle as possible. Her eyes lingered somewhere over your shoulder. “Though I don't think you'll need it.”
You turned, catching sight of what she was watching.
Jack stood with Crus who was thrusting a tablet to him but he was looking at you.
“I'll- er- put it to good use. I'll see you in a couple days to check out those stitches.”
Slowly they left and you were stood frozen, staring down at the card. Ten dollars a month wasn't so bad if you didn't count the subscriptions you already had at the student loan and bills and such. You got three months half price, maybe three months to meet the love of your life or at least get some-
The card was plucked from you fingers.
Jack twirled it around. “You thinking about it?” he said, an edge to his voice.
“What? No- I don't know, she just- it was a parting gift?”
He nodded, reading the card. “Always go older,” he read.
“It's the app, younger women with, um, older men.”
“Interested?”
The way he looked at you felt more like an invitation than a general question. His eyes were hooded as he looked at you. It was the way he always looked at you but it felt weighted.
“It's just an app,” you excused.
Jack held the card out between the two of you, letting you chose.
It should've been your choice but it felt like there was a right and wrong answer.
Slowly, you plucked it from his fingers.
Two days later you found Jack Abbott on the app.
You were scrolling in the bathroom on your three minute pee break. You'd got the app that morning, caving in after spending a night tossing and turning and dreaming. You could say the dream was any old man, a faceless sort but even if that were true you felt the hard press of the chest, the tickle of the stubble. You imagined the freckles along the arms and the low rumble of his voice in your ear.
“That's it... that's it... take me in... all the way... god you feel beautiful,”
You woke wet between your legs and hot all over with little to no time to do anything about it.
You were desperate, you told yourself as you hastily built up a profile, picking what small pictures you had of yourself not in scrubs.
You hadn't had time to check it until the bathroom break and you don't make it three profiles before you were faced with Abbott.
The pictures of him were pictures you'd seen before, a selfie with his stupid smirk, the peek of army uniform there. There was another of him that seemed to a couple years ago and the third and final was a picture of him in scrubs.
It was a picture of the night shift but you could tell there were several cropped out, but you who stood next to him were still there.
You stared down at the picture of you two, his arm was thrown over your shoulders casually. He was grinning at the camera and you had a small smile to, your body leant into him. You hadn't even realised you did that.
Didn't Abbott know it wasn't a good sign to have a picture of another woman on the dating app? Unless it was your mother and you were a mamas boy.
There was knocking on the bathroom stool doors.
“Have you coded in there?” Crus called out.
You huffed and got off the toilet, pulling up your pants and pocketing your phone.
“If only.”
The night continued as usual, abdominal pains, charting, lacerations, charting, traumas and charting.
You'd hardly got a look at Jack when it was turning to six in the morning and day shifters started piling in.
You were passing the break room when the door swung open.
Jack popped out, catching you, his arms braced at the door. “Get in here, now.”
You were worried, reading through every patient you'd seen that day. You were sure you dealt with them all attentively, you'd never misdiagnosed someone before and today couldn't have been the day.
Jack closed the door behind him, checking nobody was on their way to find you before speaking. He was calm as he walked over to you, leaning his hand on the table and crowding you. “Why do you think I need to talk to you?”
You tried to think of something you'd done wrong. Anything. “Trauma came in, I er, didn't intubate quick enough?”
He shook his head and you tried to think again.
Before you could hazard a guess, he spoke. “I thought if you were interested, you'd have said something.”
There was a beat of silence.
“Interested?”
Jack's chest rose and fell in a deep breath. “In going older.”
“In going-” your mind short-circuited to his profile. If you'd seen him just a few hours ago, he could have seen you before then.
“I thought I had made my invitation clear,” he uttered.
“Invitation?” you repeated, feeling like a stuck record player.
“To go older,” Jack stepped closer and you could feel the warmth of his breath. “I was inviting you to try it.”
His breath somehow still smelt of mint freshness whereas you were sure yours was coffee stained from the three cups you'd already drunk.
“And not through the app,” he added.
You gulped. “You saw me on the app?”
“I saw you on the app.”
“But you're on the app,” you pointed out, eyes flickering up to his.
“I got it two days ago to make sure you didn't get it,” he said. His eyes weren't focused on yours. They were flickering between your eyes and your lips.
You wondered if you were still dreaming. If you were still in your bed, still dampening your panties and sheets with this crazy dream of him. You pinched yourself slowly but you felt the pain and didn't wake.
You squeezed your eyes shut and opened them and he was still there. Still calm. “You want to have sex with me?”
Jack's jaw clenched. “Honey, I want so much more than that.”
His finger was light as it brushed the back of your hand that rested on the table there.
“I want what you want, and maybe even more,” said Jack, his hand cradled your face. thumb dragging over your cheekbone. “You just got to tell me what you want and I'll make it happen.”
You'd thought that being with an older man meant being told what to do, that you wouldn't get a word in edge ways and yes, it was hot to think about.
You imagined Jack would be that, gently guiding you through your pleasure like he understood it better than you did. “You, I want you.”
Jack's lips were soft on yours, his head tilted at the perfect angle that meant he reached every edge of your lips at once. He didn't push against you, annoyingly so, he just let you feel the press of his lips like a fresh summers breeze.
It was your hands that fell on his chest, it was you that tilted your head back so he could reach deeper. It was your tongue tracing the bottom of his lips to get in deeper.
The door clattered and you jumped from Jack like he'd scorched you.
Jack only opened his eyes slowly, turning.
Robby leant on the door frame, arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his lips as he sipped from his coffee cup. “Good morning, brother.”
Jack took you home to his and carefully man handled you through the door. Once it was closed his lips sort yours in a hunger even a twelve hour shift couldn't kill.
He breathed against you hard as he kissed you, stirring you through his house with his hands migrating from your cheeks, to your neck, to your waist, to your hips, to anyplace he could get a hold of you.
Your hands made his neatly combed hair a mess as you leant against him, letting yourself be moved around like a rag doll.
“Is this your house?” you asked against his lips. You couldn't look around to study his space, he was hardly letting you go to catch your breath let alone turn your head.
He nodded, kissing you. His tongue entered the warmth of your mouth and he moaned into you. “We didn't break and enter, baby.”
“But you-” you gasped as his hands travelled under your shirt, sending a chill. “You don't rent.”
This wasn't your best dirty talk.
Jack smiled against your lips. “No, I have a mortage.”
You kissed him again, holding him close as your hand slithered to the back of his neck.
He was still navigating you through his house till you felt your back hit a wall. “Does that turn you on?”
Slowly he pulled at the ties of your scrub pants and he slid his hand in enough to get a feel of the warmth of your cunt through your panties. You were wet, impossibly so just by kissing him.
“Yeah,” he said, breathless. “It turns you on.”
Jack's teeth scraped down your neck, his tongue soothing where he nipped.
You tilted your head back, a silent invite for more.
A thigh of his slotted between your legs and you fell onto it.
“You wanna- wanna tell me about tax returns next?” you teased.
“Maybe,” he said, lifting his head back to yours. “I kinda wanna taste you first.”
With strong hands on your hips he turned you and pushed you through the open door into a master of a bedroom. The bed was in the middle, a four postered type thing with clean and made sheets. There was nothing messy about it, nothing to signify the exhaustion of a night shift.
Jack held your body into his, hips rutting against yours.
You acknowledged somewhere in the back of your head that he'd told you years ago he moved into a bungalow. No stairs- easier on his leg.
“Do you know how many times I've touched myself thinking about you, on that bed?” he whispered into your skin, kissing the words there.
“You-You have?”
You felt his hair tickle you as he nodded. “Do you like knowing that?”
“Yes.” You reached over, cupping the back of his head till your tongues were meeting in a sloppy kiss.
Jack's hands slipped down your waist, down your underwear and spread at your cunt till he could easily slip in a finger.
You gasped against him, body curling in pleasure you'd never felt.
He moved with you as if he was chasing you, sucking on your bottom lip.
“You like that?” he uttered, dragging out your bottom lip.
You nodded as he slowly withdrew his finger to slip another in.
“Need to hear you like it, baby.”
“I like it, Jack, like your fingers inside of me.”
The fingers on his free hand moved to wrap around your neck, tilting your head back till it rested on his shoulder. With this advantage he could like on the skin, feel the heat of you and the jump of your pulse as he slowly worked his fingers in and out, curling at the spots that got you shaking.
Your held onto his arm, fingers digging into the skin.
“You're gonna like it,” he whispered. “You're gonna like it so much you'll never go back, never want anyone else.”
His fingers worked quicker as you felt him leave marks at your neck, in places you knew people would be able to see. “Still like my fingers inside of you?”
“Yes, god, yes!”
“How'd they make you feel, baby?”
“Good, so good.”
Jack withdrew his hands and turned you, guiding you up on the bed. He leant back on his knees, slowly undoing the ties of his scrub bants.
You'd never been happier that they were black, showing the outline of his cock, hard and begging for attention.
“Take your top off.” He gestured.
You did and his eyes grew darker though didn't know how that was possible. Your hands trembled with eager excitement to get your hands on him or for him to get his hands on you. You moved to un-clasp your bra but Jack shook his head.
“Keep it on. Take my shirt off.”
His chest was broad and slightly defined. Freckles dotted around and one or two scares you'd never seen before were littered there too.
It was instinct to move in to his neck to kiss him but his hand wrapped around your neck and pushed you down till you bounced off the mattress.
“Eyes on me, keep your eyes on me.”
You followed his order as he slowly dragged down your scrub pants and panties, getting a glimpse of how wet they were before they were chucked aside.
Hopefully that was the time Jack let you see all of him. No.
Like a prized possession Jack laid you out and spread your legs.
It was suddenly all too real. The haste of the drive over, his hand on your thigh, everything he said about being with an older guy and how Lu had told you how experienced they were. Would he expect something you couldn't deliver? Did you expect something?
“Jack,” you said only his name but you didn't know what else you were trying to lead on anyhow.
His eyes were earnest though clouded by desire as he pushed your legs up till you were sprawled out for him. “I'll stop any time you want.”
You watched him get closer to your heat. Felt yourself cry out for his attention.
“You're gonna like it, gonna love it,” he promised, eyes focused on you as he slid his middle finger inside of you. “Relax... relax.”
You tried to but as another one of his fingers slid into you, creating a slow thrusting pattern and his other hand kept playing with your cunt to get your lips spread you could do anything but relax.
Your breathing kicked up, your pulse was high.
As Jack leant down to slowly flick his tongue against your clit you threw your head back and moaned.
“Oh shit, Jack- Jack!”
His gaze flickered up to you, daring you to try to speak.
When you did it came out as another moan, his tongue flattening against your bud of nerves.
He played with you like that, moulding your legs around to where he wanted them. Flat on the bed, over his shoulders, up in the air. Anything to get him deeper inside of you.
All the while you alternated between watching him and falling back on the bed in aches of pleasure.
Jack watched where his fingers disappeared inside of you. “Swallowing me up, can't wait to get my cock inside of you.”
“Want it.... want it....” you mumbled, head back on the softness of his quilt.
“Yeah?” he whimpered.
Your hand fisted the quilt that smelt like him and you smothered your face in it as his fingers curled.
“Oh my god, honey... yeah....” Jack moaned before you felt the wet of his tongue on the heat of you.
You couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. Whether it was his spit on your cunt or your want that was pooling into wetness on his sheets.
There was no warning, only your moans, as you came around his fingers and tongue. You had no idea you could come so quick, had no idea it could be pulled from your head to your toes.
Jack let your orgasm play out, pulling back to watch it leak. “Oh yeah... yeah...” his fingers swept up the mess lightly. “You're so sweet, oh yeah... moan like that...”
His tongue went in, licking up all the mess around you.
“Jack please, I can't- I can't!”
Your body was trembling beyond your control and he was still playing around with you and your sensitive bud. Your arms wrapped around yourself as if you could hold yourself together from breaking out in cries.
You hadn't noticed your eyes were screwed shut until you felt him move and heard the demand in his voice.
“Look at me.”
When you did you found Jack standing at the foot of his bed, scrub pants deserted and hand wrapped around his own cock.
You looked at him and then some.
“Touch me, touch me,” he said gently, prying your hands away from your chest with care.
With guidance he helped you sit up and helped you feel his cock.
You'd done this before but your mouth had never watered by the idea, your body never wept with the need to suck another guy off. Nothing about him disgusted you. Not the scars around his knee where he lost his leg, not the hair that dusted the base of his cock in tamed grey.
It moved you on.
You only jerked him off slow, only a little at first but his breath became laboured.
Jack's eyes closed as he grabbed a hold of your legs like they were his anchor.
You wanted to speed up.
“Go easy on me,” he said with a drunk grin. “It's been a while.”
You moaned and inched your body closer to the edge of the bed, your heat wanting to swallow him up.
Jack's eyes watched as you withered. He held onto your wrist that stayed wrapped around the base of his cock. “No, no, no, don't put it in yet.” Slowly he came to lean over you. “I want you to suck on it. You want it? Want to suck this old mans cock?”
In answer, the two of you moved quickly till he was lying flat on the bed and you were over him, slowly taking the tip in your mouth.
“Oh my god... oh yeah...” he moaned. Jack petted back your hair. “Take the tip.... take the tip... swirl your tongue...”
You took in his tip and swirled the tongue just as he said, watching him as you took him deeper with his careful help.
A string of 'oh yeah, don't stop' fell from him like a mantra as you took him deeper and faster, the need growing in you again.
“It's not- it's not too much?” he checked in, his head falling back.
You only took yourself off him to shake your head before sucking him into your mouth again, holding the base of him and working what you couldn't manage.
Jack groaned, hands flying to his head as his fists clenched. “You're so good... oh you're so good, baby.”
You took him deep and hollowed your cheeks.
Jack lurched. “Fuck! Fuck- shit, don't do that,” he moaned, guiding you off with pink cheeks. He chuckled, guiding you up to him. “I'll finish if you do that.”
He kissed you, never minding the both of your arousal on each other's lips. “They're are so many ways I want to be inside of you.”
You moaned against his lips. “I want you inside me, Jack.”
“I know, I know.” His brows pulled together as he seemed to have a battle in his own mind about just how to have you.
You didn't make it easier. In temptation you lied back on his bed and spread yourself out. All the while he was still caught up in thinking.
You almost started playing with yourself to relieve the build up when Jack grabbed your wrist and guided your fingers into his mouth.
He gently kissed the pads of your finger tips. “Turn around.”
Jack lied next to you, your back flush with his chest. He lined his cock up with your cunt, slowly sliding the length of it between your folds.
“Con-condom?” you mumbled, dreading the feel of anything that wasn't completely him.
Jake kissed your shoulder. “It feels better without. I'm clean.”
You nodded, breathless at the promise of feeling him. All of him. “I'm clean and I have a, an IUD.”
He kissed you again as he nudged the head of his cock into you.
Your moans echoed around the room as he held onto you, inching himself in further and further.
Only once you'd just got the feel of all of him he was slowly retreating to push back in again. For a moment it was only the sound of the both of you breathless and the gentle sounds of skin on skin as he moved at a steady pace, growing needier, getting deeper by every thrust.
“Oh my god... oh my god...” you moaned.
Jack's hands grabbed your hips, helping you meet his thrusts in urgency. The sun was just peeking through the blinds and a thin layer of sweat glowed off both your bodies.
You tried to grind your backside into him, desperate to feel relief as his pace remained steady.
Jack gripped your hip, leaning into your ear. “Don't rush it, don't rush it,” he nipped at your ear. “Don't be greedy, we'll go slow.”
You didn't want slow. You wanted fast. You wanted hard.
The slow drag of his cock through your walls drove you mad. He reached around, fingers circling your clit as his other hand finally un-hooked your bra.
It wasn't long before Jack was slamming into you, harder, your body rocking with his movements and the head of his bed hitting the wall.
“God, it's been so long.... you feel amazing...” said Jack as his fingers circled your clit hard.
“Jack I'm gonna-”
At the warning he stilled himself inside of you.
“Not yet, honey, not yet.”
You whined, hand moving round to grab at his ass and hold him in.
Jack groaned and bit into your neck. “I know, I know. Just gimme a minute.”
You had no choice as he slid out of you and moved you around so you were flat on the bed. You felt his fingers thrust inside of you again harder than before.
His breath was hard, chest rising and falling quickly. “I wanna make you come in so many ways I can't chose how.”
He was a man starved, ravenous as he dedicated time to licking you up again, if only for a minute. But he moaned around you, sucked in your nerves and released it to the mercy of his fingers.
“Jack!” you yelled, screw the neighbours.
There was a growl somewhere in the back of his throat as he loomed over you.
“You wanna fuck me?”
“Yes, Jack, bad so bad!”
“Okay, okay honey, fuck me then, come one baby.... I know you can.”
Jack pushed into you as the both of your eyes clashed watching the pleasure in each others eyes. He set a brutal pace, holding a leg up as he peppered kisses along your chest.
“J-Jack-”
“Tell me how good I feel.”
“So good.”
“So good, yeah baby, so good,” he gasped. “Oh fuck, god baby!” He reached over and gripped the headboard, body tight in pleasure.
You arched off the bed.
“I need you to come,” he announced, eyes screwed up in pleasure as he thrusted into you hard, the slap of his balls on you.
You watched where he met you as your legs shook.
“I need you to come so I can come.... one more time, baby.... one more time, please....” he begged.
The sight of him sweating, his body rigid, eyes shut in pleasure and mouth hanging open only to voice obscene moans was enough to have you coming over the edge.
Your walls tightened.
Jack must have felt it as he steadied himself over you, fingers falling between your bodies to work you through it. “That's it.... that's it.... that's it...” He kissed along your collarbone.
You released over him, gasping, body melting into him as Jack rode out your orgasm.
“Arg... oh god... you feel so good, I-urg-”
Dirty words spilled from your mouth as Jack latched onto your mouth and let go inside of you.
The both of you were a panting, sweating mess as he calmed down, slowly slipping out of you but kissing away every whine and protest.
Your breathes slowed and slowly Jack slipped out of you, watching his release leave you.
His eyes flickered back up to you, brushing away hair that had stuck. “I've never come like that in my life.”
You were still catching your breath, still waiting for the race of your heart to dull. “Your welcome?”
Jack chuckled, falling beside you and throwing an arm over you. “I think you can delete that app now.”
You groaned with a wave of embarrassment, covering your face. Gently, Jack pried away your hands and kissed the palms of them. You turned on your side. “Are you going to delete it too?”
“Honey I only got it cause I couldn't stand the thought of you getting it, and some other gut thinking he can treat you better.”
“I always hoped it would be you.”
Jack kissed you tenderly. “So?” he asked against you. “You think older is better?”
only talking to sukuna's stomach mouth when he pisses you off
Sukuna’s developed an irritating habit. Whenever he’s fed up with you, or whenever he doesn’t want to entertain one of your questions, he’ll simply stay quiet and gesture towards his stomach. It’s kind of like saying ‘talk to the hand’. But in his case, it’s ‘talk to the stomach mouth’.
Then his stomach mouth will shoot you this wide, smug grin, like it’s more than happy to converse with you. And you’ll just toss up your hands and groan, annoyed that your husband won’t even bother to speak with you face to face.
But recently you've taken Sukuna up on his offer, turning the tables to give him the silent treatment while still chatting away with his stomach. Because Sukuna underestimated just how much that mouth of his likes to rile someone up. Even if it’s the rest of his body.
Now, Sukuna’s lounging on the bed, limbs draped carelessly along the mattress. He’s trying to feign indifference. Trying to pretend he’s unphased by the fact that you haven’t spoken to him in four whole days.
But you know better. You see the slight clench in his jaw, the scowl that deepens on his face each time he steals a look your way. He watches as you sit by the window, gazing at the scenery outside.
When the silence stretches on longer than he can bear, Sukuna sets his pride aside to clear his throat and ask, “Are you still doing this?”
You don’t even spare him a glance, continuing to look out the window. “Middle Mouth,” you say, “will you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I have no idea what he’s talking about?”
Sukuna scoffs in disbelief, but that mouth of his flashes its teeth and singsongs, “Sukunaaaa. She doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I heard you,” Sukuna huffs, speaking to you instead of his stomach.
He hates this whole situation. Hates that you're not speaking with him. Hates that you’ve given his stomach mouth a nickname. And he hates that the mouth is entertaining it at all.
His jaw clenches once more, and he sighs before saying, “You’re ignoring me.”
He’s not wrong. For almost a week, you’ve been avoiding your husband, refusing to interact or even look at any part of him other than his stomach maw. But despite all of his sulking and sour moods, you act as if nothing is amiss.
“Middle Mouth, will you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I am not ignoring him. You and I just had a lovely conversation, didn’t we?”
“Sukunaaaa,” the mouth singsongs again. “She isn’t ignoring you…well, me.” That grin returns, and you can’t help but let out a quiet laugh. Why didn’t you start speaking with your husband’s stomach mouth sooner? He really is entertaining.
“Stop that. Don’t humor her,” Sukuna scolds.
“Middle Mouth, you can converse with me as you please.”
“I intend to,” his maw replies.
Sukuna’s eyes narrow, but he’s not sure whether to direct his glare at you or his abdomen. “How long do you intend to keep up these antics?”
You brush an imaginary piece of lint from your clothes and say, "Middle Mouth, please inform the rest of Sukuna that I’m still waiting on a proper apology from him."
“I’m warning you, do not–”
“Sukunaaaa. She is waiting for a proper apology from you.”
Sukuna stares murderously down at his lower half. He’s finally met his match. The only ‘enemy’ that he can’t silence by force. Himself.
And secretly, you think that he slightly enjoys that you’re speaking with his stomach mouth. It shows him that despite this silent treatment, you still desire some form of communication with him.
So he’ll put up with the teasing, the inside jokes, and the fact that his wife is being stolen by his own body.
You decide to press your luck a little bit further, and say something you know will send your husband over the edge. “Middle Mouth–”
“Not again,” Sukuna groans, tossing his head back.
“Do you remember what I told you? What we talked about last night?”
“What?!?" Sukuna demands, sitting up abruptly and sending the covers around him flying.
“Oh, I remember,” his maw says, immediately grinning and playing into it.
“Well, I was thinking about it and–”
“Why are you speaking with my wife at night?”
“Our wife. And what we discuss during late hours does not concern you.”
“Anyways, as I was telling you, Middle Mouth, before I was rudely interrupted–”
“No. This ends now."
In seconds, Sukuna’s beside you, all 7 feet of him towering over you intimidatingly. He rubs a hand across his jaw, like he has to physically force the words out of his mouth. “I.. apologize for not answering when you asked me which of my cocks I urinate from.”
“…”
“The answer is both of them.”
Immediately, your mood lifts. You turn away from the window, smiling and facing your husband like nothing was ever wrong. “Apology accepted.” And then to his stomach mouth, “We’ll continue our conversation later.”
a/n: idk why the mouth is referring to him in third person...js to be annoying ig lol
summary: coworker!clark kent getting jealous of the new photographer flirting with you
warning: 18+ needy and jealous clark, three some, gender neutral reader
note: enjoy!
The heat of Clark’s gaze could burn you in an instant. Despite being in a team debrief with Perry in the middle of the office, Clark had his eyes glued to you and your photojournalist, Peter Parker. He was fidgeting with a pencil that eventually broke in half after Peter whispered something to your ear.
Eyes on the board, you texted Clark. Instead he kept his dark blue eyes at you, eyebrows scrunched.
“Is he always like that?” Peter whispered, toying with his lanyard. Clark looked at him with disgust. He hated his perfectly wavy hair, his way of dressing that looked like it came out of an early 2000’s magazine, and the way he made you laugh—like a lot.
“He has moments,” You said, rolling your eyes. “Ignore him.”
“Sure, boss,” Peter joked. It has been a month since Peter was assigned to you, a photographer from New York. Perry employed him after his famous pictures of Spider-man. For the past two months, Spider-man has been seen in Metropolis fighting bad guys faster than Superman ever did.
“How about Spider-man V. Superman: A Heated Rivalry,” Jimmy said to the team, spreading his hands wide to emphasize the title Peter choked on his coffee, while an audible scoff came out of Clark.
“You think you could get an interview with them?” Perry asked you. You never said no to any stories Perry wanted to tell, but this one? You were unsure.
“This is much worse than hashtag supershit,” Clark said, arms crossed so tightly his shirt could’ve ripped. He sighed, “but sure why not, I’ll hit up Superman and send him your way.
“Really, you’d do that?” you said in disbelief. It has been a while since you’ve talked sincerely with Clark, it’s usually arguments and bantering these days about work. Plus, it was even more unbelievable because he has been vocal about not liking Spider-man. Silly man in a red and blue suit he’s obviously a Superman rip-off! He’d say.
“You think you could get Spider-man’s contact info, Parker?” an eyebrow raised. “You seem to know him very well.”
“I’m pretty sure he’d be down here faster than Superman,” Peter said, smirking.
“I doubt that,” Clark said, walking out to the coffee counter.
Perry eventually ended the meeting. Everyone was back to working on their own desks. Clark stayed at the counter looking like he was making coffee for everyone. You walked to the coffee counter to help him out.
“Is it still two sugars?” Clark said, facing away from you.
“Erm, yeah,” you said, smoothing your palms on your shirt. “Thanks for the save by the way.”
“Anytime,” he said. “Do you know how Peter likes his coffee?”
“Black,” you said. Clark quickly looked at you with his brows even more furrowed. You wanted to laugh at how silly he looked. “What? We spend a lot of time together, of course I’ll know.”
“D’you spend time at his place? House tours on his new flat I suppose,” Clark said, putting more than a spoonful of sugar on Peter’s cup. You stopped his hand, an obvious size difference between you two.
“Oh my god, Clark,” If your eyes could roll much farther back you would. “Are you seriously jealous of him? After not talking to me for weeks? You are so unbelievable!”
“I was keeping my distance, you knew why that had to happen,” he said. He was facing you know, his broad frame eclipsing the light over you.
“I actually don't know Clark, you were pretty vague about it,” you looked up at him, his black curls over his face, his glass falling nearer to the tip of his nose. There was always a surge of blood through you when you argue with him.
“I wanted you to be happy,” he uttered in a low but serious tone.
“You broke up with me! Right when I needed you the most, how was that making me happy?” You said, looking around to see if anyone heard you, tears slowly creeping.
“You absolutely know why,” he was clearly hinting at his secret rendezvous. “It was never safe for us to be together.”
“Then why are you so pressed about me and Peter?” Clark didn't know what to say. You’re right, he shouldn’t care, he shouldn’t be jealous at all.
Clark’s response was never spoken. He stood there in shame, gazing away from you.
“Right,” you said, leaving the counter.
Later that day, on top of the Daily’s building sat Superman. His body ached from being thrown around buildings. Despite everyone in the crowd cheering for him, TV reporters wanting to interview him, he escaped all of them to sit and ponder. All he wanted to do right now was talk to you and apologize.
If there is one thing he hated the most, it was seeing you cry.
“Nice save out there,” Spider-man said. Leaning on the Daily Planet sign.
“Don’t make the same mistakes I did, Peter,” he said. Spider-man was taken aback. Clark stared at the skyline, the direction of your apartment.
“You’re mentioned a lot when we’re together,” Peter said. “There’s still a lot of love shared between you two.”
“Maybe before,” Clark said. Peter took off his mask and sat next to him.
“Only one way of finding out,” Peter said, tapping Clark’s shoulder before taking a thwip at a nearby building.
Your nightly routine was perfect, shower, then skincare, maybe a few minutes reading a book then off to sleep. After closing the cap of your moisturizer, you heard a knock on your window. It was Peter, unmasked.
“Are you hurt?” you said, letting him in. Behind him was Superman, his head down like he was hiding his face from you. “Clark?”
“What is he doing here?” you continued. The two men sat on your sofa. Peter unzipped the top half of the suit in such a way it hung on his hips, a worn out graphic tee underneath. They both drank the water you offered them.
“Well you wanted that interview right?” Peter said. “Here it is.”
The silence was thick in the air, weighing down on you and Clark. He finished his water but his lips stayed pressed on the glass, cold and uncomfortable.
“Oh, come on you two, the tension is making me feel faint,” Peter said, pressing the iced glass on his forehead.
“It was rude of me to come at you like that, I’m sorry,” Clark said, slowly lifting his head to match your gaze.
“Asshole move by the way,” you took their glasses and put them in the sink. When you came back the two boys were following your every move. “You know it was never about being a hero, I just… wished you could've been more honest with me. I would understand.”
“I’m sure Peter treats you better,” Clark said, even though he didn’t mean it like that it did come off a little condescending.
“Peter and I are just friends,” you said. “We’ve known each other since college. When I found out he wanted to move I asked him to move here and work with me.”
“So…not dating then,” Clark said. “Cool…cool…”
“Well not yet,” Peter said.
“Not helping!” you interjected. “I like you two but you guys are making it harder for me.”
“You like…us?” The two men said in unison.
You shut your eyes and shook your head, surprised with what you said. “That’s not–”
It was Clark who stood first, Peter followed.
“Let me explain,” You said, putting your hands in front of you as if pushing them away. “You’re both great, okay. Clark’s kind of an asshole sometimes but you’re the sweetest man I’ve ever known. And Peter, you’re the most patient and understanding person ever. And I’ve really been confused with what I feel lately because I don’t want to have to choose–”
“You don’t have to,” Peter said. He came closer and held your hand. “I’m sure there’s space for both of us.” He looked at Clark, who nodded and went next to you.
“If you’d let us.” Clark held your other hand, rubbing his thumb on your skin.
The three of you sat at the edge of your bed in nothing but underwear. “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you said, smoothing your palms on your thighs.
“If you want out you could just sit there and watch us,” Peter jokingly said.
“That’s an option?” you said, smiling. Clark looked like a deer in headlights.
You held his face and kissed his lips, warm and soft like how you remembered it. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in, another hand holding your cheek. You pulled back, much to Clark’s dismay. Peter’s kiss was slow and definite. Like a spider, his hands crept all over your body. Your back, your waist, your chest.
Clark felt your hand on his wrist, pulling him in. With that, the three of you joined in a kiss. Tongues going back and forth through wet lips, the heat of your breaths echoes with moans and grunts. Peter dragged his kisses to your jaw, down to your neck. Clark kissed the back of your ear, his hand steady on the curve of your back.
The two men moved around you like they knew each other’s thoughts. Clark shifted so that you sat between his thick thighs, your back against the hard muscles of his chest. Peter, on the other hand, was on his knees, kissing the skin of your thighs. Clark continued kissing your nape, his hands teasing your nipples.
You could feel Clark’s hard cock twitch at each whimper. Peter’s lips made their way to the skin above your sex, slowly pulling the last piece of clothing from your body. His mouth teased the perimeter, the heat in between your legs growing more and more. Clark’s hips would move ever so slightly, the tip of his cock rubbing against his boxers.
“Gosh, you sound so beautiful,” Clark said, kissing and nipping at your neck.
Peter chuckled. Clark was right, he was leaking in his boxers just from the sound of your moans. He placed his mouth on your sex, licking and sucking on the sensitive gland. Your hands smoothed through his hair before pulling them in, his tongue adding more pressure to your center.
“Fuck–I don’t want to come yet,” you cried out. Peter halted, letting a string of saliva drag out from your sex. “I need to see you both first.”
They both stood in front of you with cocks pointing north. This time you finally had the opportunity to look at them next to each other. Clark was obviously bigger, in every sense of the word. Shoulders wide, muscular arms, thighs bigger than your head. Peter was equally handsome though, he had wide shoulders, but his body leaner and more fit for agile strides in the sky.
They both undressed. Your thoughts felt like mush, it was as if you were drunk from their presence.
“Did you just gulp?” Peter said, scratching the back of his head.
“Did I?” your eyes were transfixed on their erections. You took Peter’s cock first, it was the smaller of the two–still a good seven inches though and mostly because you were scared Clark’s cock would bruise your throat. You licked a strip from underneath up to the leaking tip. Peter’s eyes rolled back from the wetness of your tongue.
“Damn,” Peter yelped when you took the last inch, sucking as you pulled back. “That mouth feels so good.”
You didn’t want to leave Clark hanging. He felt your warm hand on his cock, slowly stroking. For a man dubbed by many to be made of steel he wanted to bend and break like a sand castle in front of you. You let go of Peter’s cock with a loud pop, still stroking it with your spit as lube.
Being a bit scared proved to be right, your jaw hurt a little from sucking Clark’s cock. It was definitely thicker, but it felt so good to just suck on it, earning deep guttural moans from him. “You’re so good at that sweetie, missed that mouth so much.”
“I missed doing things with it.”
“Other than arguing?” Clark snickered. He picked you up so he could kiss you again this time more desperate than the last. “Bend over for me and Peter, yeah?”
You do as you’re told. Clark positioned himself at your back, rubbing his cock on your ass. Peter sat in front of you, leg spread on the bed. He kissed you again and again until you were breathless. “Knew you had it in you,” he said, just in time for the two of them to fuck you together.
You’ve never felt this full before, your nails dug into your sheets for control. Clark gently stroked inside you, slick from your spit and arousal. You gasped when he was fully in, sucking in Peter’s cock deeper in the process. You pleasured them both from each end, using the same rhythm through each stroke. “Needy for Clark’s cock?” Peter said, patting your head.
You nodded, cheeks flushed and damp with tears. Clark’s grip on your waist was tight and strong, he fucked his fill into you that your hips were sure to get sore. He places his hand on your sex and uses the wetness to pleasure you. Your body felt tingly from all the touching and fucking that the arousal dripped down your thighs and into the bed.
“You should see this face, Clark, teary eyed from taking two dicks,” Peter cooed. “You’ve been wanting this haven’t you?”
“Yes–” you gasped for air. “He’s stretching me out.”
Clark got harder after you said that, he wanted to finish inside you, show you how much he missed you. “I’m close—haven’t come since our last time,” Clark was on top of you, his body weight pressing on you slightly. His thrust became faster, each stroke a hard assault on your sensitive spot.
“Go for it, come inside me.”
“Oh, you sweet thing,” Clark melted in response, shooting his come inside your warmth filling you to the brim. Clark laid down on his side while trying to catch his breath. Peter flipped you over so he could take his turn while you faced him.
“Think you can take on more?” Peter said, kissing you again.
“I told you…there’s space for both of you,” the two of you shared one more kiss while Peter entered. He dug his face to the corner of your neck, lifting your legs so he could feel the warmth. He could still feel Clark’s come inside, making things slicker, his cock going in and out easier.
Clark cuddled you in, using his bicep as a pillow. You two watched Peter’s cock go in and out of you, Clark’s joined a hand to pleasure your sex. Your body tensed, a knot forming tighter and tighter.
“I’m so close too,” Peter said, his face was pink, his lips reddened and needing one more kiss.
You reached to stroke Clark’s cock again, he was already moaning and panting through your kiss. “Kiss me again,” you said to both of them. They both joined into a kiss, stroking their hips. Clark’s hand on your sex helped bring you closer. “I’m coming,” you moaned.
The air in the room drowned in the sounds of your climax, panting and grunting as Peter emptied himself in you. The three of you cuddled until the next hour, sharing kisses here and there before Peter had the great idea of doing it all over again in the shower.
Perry woke up with an e-mail from you. Can’t come to work, interview with Spider-man. And another e-mail from Clark. The Superman story right now, might be late.
The interview would last a day…or two.
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[𝜗℘] :: only you are worthy to kiss true form!sukuna & no one else :: tags. concubine!reader, fluff, suggestive.
you’re standing at the entrance of the estate, along with some other concubines. four of them. uraume is there with you as well. you’re all awaiting the one person you’re serving; ryomen sukuna.
it’s silent. the women don’t dare to speak up nor do they dare address you in a menacing manner because of uraume’s presence. you’re thankful for them. you really don’t want to have another petty fight with the concubines. not before your little trip to the village nearby.
you’re all accompanying sukuna to meet up with an infamous clan leader. it’s official business, but you’re needed as a sign of your lord’s high status. you’re basically his trophies that he likes to show off.
“interesting choice of clothing,” sukuna finally shows up. you all bow, showing respect. you look up and only then realise that he’s addressing you. his eyes wander over your figure, “who’s chosen that for you?”
you glance down at your kimono. it’s a beautiful red—suiting the color of sukuna’s eyes. your hair is put up in a neat bun, with a matching crimson hairpin that represented who you belong to.
him.
“my lady-in-waiting, my lord,” you say quietly. you cannot see it, yet can easily feel it; the jealous glares from the four women. they’re dressed in the exact same color red, yet their lord hasn’t paid them any mind. not even a glance.
sukuna just hums in response and makes a mental note of your answer. at least his human servants are good for something. he continues to shamelessly check you out.
“lord sukuna,” uraume interrupts carefully. they bow their head once the king of curses looks their way with a stoic expression, “we’ll have to leave now if we wish to make it there at dawn.”
it’s a gentle reminder, but there’s some urgency in their voice. sukuna rolls his eyes—he may have some official business, but he’s not attending that. not before taking care of other more important stuff first. “silence,” he comments to uraume, heavy steps heading your way afterwards.
your eyes meet his. you blink in confusion, eyelashes fluttering. the sight makes sukuna’s hands twitch at his sides. the way you stare up at him with such naïveté is making him want to destroy it.
you’re unsure what sukuna wants from you. as he orders, everyone stays quiet. you watch as his big hands wrap around your body—your waist engulfed by his warm palms. your eyes widen, but before you can question his actions, your lips are sealed by his.
it’s rare that he does this. kissing sukuna is a privilege. one that no one has ever gotten the honour of having, except for you.
you’ve tasted him. you’ve felt his tongue slither against yours. you’ve had his saliva mix with yours. you’ve had him grunting in your mouth.
you’ve had it all.
no one says a thing. even as your feet are lifted from the ground by the sheer strength of sukuna’s grip on your small body. to reach his lips properly, he has to pick you up and hold you against his chest. it’s his favorite thing to do.
“pretty thing,” sukuna coos with a grin. you can feel his lips curling up menacingly against your mouth. it makes you whine. you instantly shut up once you realise that you’re still outside and surrounded by others—who are basically waiting on you two to be done.
you’re embarrassed to the point that you want nothing more than to hide your face against sukuna’s chest. but he will not let you until he’s had his fill. your tongues swirl around each other passionately, followed by him sucking on your bottom lip and biting it with his sharp fangs.
“my lord,” you whine quietly. you know this’ll end up like that one time in the garden. where he shamelessly took you in front of his servants. you’re unsure if it’s a smart thing to do right now. sukuna has an appointment to go to after all.
his mouth doesn’t stop interlocking with yours. his thick fingers tug at the hairs on the back of your neck, causing you to part your lips in surprise. the king of curses takes his chance and explores your warm little mouth. the one that he’s claimed as his the moment you became his concubine.
you tug at his sleeve as a reminder. sukuna grumbles in annoyance, but he knows you’re right; he should let go. his bottom set of eyes dart over to uraume for a second and upon seeing their expressionless yet determined face, he sighs.
all that official business can suck his dick.
sukuna finally detaches his lips from your now wet and swollen ones. you’re breathing hard, trying to catch your breath. you’re flustered to the point you actually bury your face into sukuna’s chiseled chest. you’re sure this’ll be the only talk around the estate for the upcoming week. you’ll become the victim of some more. . . bullying.
the king of curses notices that you don’t let go of him at all. he grins at the sight of you so desperately clinging onto him. he tries to undo the little mess he made of your once neat hair in the meantime.
“what? want me to carry you all the way there, doll?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, teasing you as per usual. you don’t let go of him since you’re still cooling off. you’ve never really kissed outside of the bedroom. it always happens behind closed doors, so this one time took you by surprise.
you shake your head and plop down on your feet again. “no, my apologies, my lord,” you straighten the material of your kimono and don’t even dare to look at the others. uraume would understand, since they’re used to their lord’s antics, but the concubines will cause big trouble once you’re back home.
sukuna nods in acknowledgment. he still got that evil smirk on his face. his thumb brushes the smudged lipstick from the corner of your mouth, cleaning up his mess once again. he’s nice enough to do so today.
“heh.” sukuna lets out an amused chuckle before walking away and ahead of you—the others silently following, as do you. you’re right behind him, on his right side, as he turns his head to yours, “just so y’know, i’m not done with you.”
you know sukuna isn’t. you can easily tell by the way that he didn’t even bother to wipe the lipstick from his own lips. he’s wearing that stain like it’s a medal of sorts. evidence that you’re the only one he’s ever going to show such affection to.
either way; you’re in for one hell of a ride once you’re back from your little business trip.
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