Welcome to 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏 જ⁀➴. I hope you enjoy your visit, sit in the flowers, tell the doves your love stories. Enjoy the pleasures of the flesh જ⁀➴. Stay a while and please, Give Lady Aphrodite all your praise as you rest in paradise. Much 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚.
𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕
#angelspeaks
This is where you can find my random ramblings of whatever I’m thinking and wished to share.
#angelsblurbs
This is where you can find my short little blurbs. Most of my writing that I have posted are usually blurbs because I have ideas and never post them.
#angelsideas
This is where you can find the ideas I have. As a writer, you can see if you can work with whatever my mind decides to come to my usually empty little head. This is a place where other writers can bounce off if they like the idea. Please, tag me. I would love to read it.
No music. No TikTok playin in the background. Nothing but the low hum of the engine and the sound of your nails tapping against the steering wheel every couple seconds.
Your jaw stayed tight the whole ride. That lady at your job had pissed you clean off today.
Every single time she messed something up, somehow it ended up on you to fix it. Like you supposed to magically pull answers out your ass or somethin. Half the time she didn’t even care to explain stuff right, then got the nerve to stand over your shoulder asking questions while you fix her mistakes.
“Can you hurry up with that?”
“Did you call them back yet?”
“I thought you already handled it.”
Handled what? You didn’t even know it existed till five minutes ago. You smacked the steering wheel lightly at the red light, sucking your teeth.
Then the phone buzzed again in the cupholder. Her. Of course.
You ignored the message. Just flipped the phone over face down and kept driving through the city streets while the orange streetlights flashed across your windshield.
Your head hurt.
Feet hurt.
Back hurt.
And the worst part was you still had to get up and do the same exact thing tomorrow like bills wasn’t waiting on nobody.
By the time you pulled into the apartment complex parking lot, you just sat there for a second with the car still running, staring straight ahead.
Too mad to cry.
Too tired to keep being angry.
Sammie always said he ain’t like you working.
Not because he thought you was lazy. Not because he ain’t respect you. He just felt like if he had it, then you had it too. In his mind, you stressing over bills while he was around made him feel like he wasn’t doing enough.
“You not supposed to be paying for nothing,” he told you one night after catching you trying to send him money for groceries. “That’s my job.”
And maybe on a regular day you woulda rolled your eyes at it. Told him he sounded old fashioned. Told him you could handle yourself.
But after the day you just had? You understood exactly why he said it.
When you walked into the apartment, the TV light flickered across the dark living room. Some basketball game played loud through the speakers while Sammie sat stretched across the couch, headset on, one leg hanging off the edge while the other rested bent beside him.
Comfortable.
Relaxed.
The complete opposite of you.
You kicked your heels off by the door with a tired sigh, rubbing the back of your ankle before dropping your purse onto the kitchen counter.
Sammie ain’t even notice you yet. Too locked into whatever his friend was yelling in the headset.
“Pass the ball, stupid ass”
You walked over without saying a word.
Then wrapped your arms around his neck from behind.
The movement shifted his headset a little. He grabbed one side, turning his head enough to see you.
Instant smile.
“Damn, there she go..”
But it faded some when he really looked at your face.
Then the way you was holding onto him.
Heavy.
Not clingy. Not playful. Just tired.
His hand came up slow, resting over your forearm where it laid across his chest.
“What happened?” he asked quieter this time.
“Dumbass boss,” you muttered, eyes closing while you let your weight sink against his shoulder.
He hummed softly like he already knew that was the answer before you even opened your mouth. His head leaned back against yours for a second while his thumb rubbed slow against your arm.
“Told you quit that damn job, girl.”
Your eyes rolled instantly, irritation slipping through the exhaustion.
“Well, boy, I got bills.”
That made him reach up and pull the headset off completely. A second later the game clicked off too, leaving the apartment quiet except for the faint noise of traffic outside.
He turned a little on the couch so he could look up at you better.
“No, lil girl,” he said calmly, grabbing your hand and pulling you around the couch toward him. “We got bills.”
The words hit different coming from him.
Not controlling. Not throwing money in your face. Just matter-of-fact. Like he really meant it.
Sammie pulled you down sideways onto the couch against his chest, one hand spreading across your back while the other rubbed up and down your thigh slow.
“I’ll pay every last one of ‘em if it mean I don’t gotta see you come home lookin like this every day.”
Your face pressed deeper into his shoulder without thinking.
Cause truthfully?
You ain’t even realize how close you was to crying till he said that.
Your lip started pouting before he could even say something back. Then tears started dropping.
Sammie eyes widened immediately.
“Aw, baby” he drug out slow.
He sat up careful, arms tightening around you before he picked you up easy and settled you onto his lap. One hand rubbed up your back while the other held your waist steady.
He pecked your lips quick.
“Baby, stop cryin.”
You shook your head hard, trying to wipe your face but more tears kept coming.
“I’m tired,” you whispered brokenly.
Sammie sighed deep through his nose, clearly trying not to let a million “I told you so’s” slip out right now.
“I know, mama. I know.”
His hand slid under your chin, lifting your head gently till you looked at him. His expression softened instantly seeing how drained you looked.
“But you know I don’t like you cryin either.”
He kissed you once.
“We can figure it out.”
Another kiss.
Your eyes closed automatically, your breathing slowing while his thumb stroked your cheek.
“You gone quit that job.”
Another kiss this time deeper, rougher, making your fingers tighten slightly in his shirt.
“And you gone be happy.” A smack landed against your ass, making you jump a little before his hand settled there rubbing over the spot right after.
-
I have Long days at work and a toxic man yall please I need this soon.
Even though he would never trade your relationship for anything, the day Rugby!Simon proposed was not his proudest moment.
Put him in front of a thousand flashing cameras that will have his face plastered on every global sports news outlet and the most intense thing he'll feel is a simmering irritation. But the feeling of that little black box sitting in his hand makes his vision start to vignette if he thinks about it too much.
(It's so small, sitting in his hand, the ring inside even smaller. Yet the weight of it, the image of it on your hand, is immeasurable.)
The day he finally decides to ask you was the product of months of agonizing over it. Should he just hand the box to you? Just ask, not even include the ring? Fuck if he knows. He never thought he'd get this far, never thought he'd find you in any lifetime let alone this one.
He's not sure he actually makes a decision, but he finds himself picking a random day on one of the morning walks you take together when the weather allows.
Simon has been so caught up in his head that he doesn't realize how weird he's been acting all day, weirder than usual at least. He especially doesn't notice the worried looks you've been shooting him.
He's spoken maybe one complete sentence all morning and has maybe blinked twice, his mind fully anchored on the black box shoved in the recesses of his pocket.
He walks beside you rigid as an ironing board, marching like he's going to war. Eventually, you hover your hand over his arm, slowing to a stop.
"Si, are you oka--"
"I don't want to be your boyfriend anymore."
Silence.
"W-what?" He can barely hear you over his pulse thundering in his ears. It's the tone of your voice that truly reaches him. Small, a little scared. It churns his gut even more and there is a moment when he's genuinely concerned he might actually hurl.
"No. I mean--" He curses so low under his breath all you hear is him growling like a dog at himself.
He turns his back to you, hands fumbling in his jacket pocket. The box gets stuck and he's there flailing around, nearly ripping his jacket trying to get the bastard thing out.
And when he turns back around, sees your precious face, sees the woman whose side he never wants to leave, he drops to his knees.
Not the one. Both of them.
He doesn't realize.
Simon opens the box so fast he nearly tears the lid clean off. The ring that has been haunting him for months glinting from the cushion inside. He looks up at you with his huge brown eyes, more anxiety in them than you've ever seen. His dry throat clicks when he swallows. His mouth opens and all he can get out is:
"Please?"
Looking back on it, Simon has absolutely no idea why you agreed to marry him after that display. But every day he sees that ring on your finger, sees the one tattooed on his, he is overcome with the certainty that he'd go through every pain and misery in his life all over again if it meant that he could call you his wife.
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
——"SUCH A GOOD FUCKIN' SLUT," Geto groaned out to you, voice slightly strained and laced with raspiness.
The man is just perfect right now. You're in his apartment now, sitting prettily right in between Geto's muscular thighs. He couldn't even make it to his damn bedroom, he dragged you into the living room and started undoing his belt before you could even process anything.
He didn't care that Gojo was probably trying to sleep in his room, didn't care that he'd be able to hear what was happening, and actually told you he'd like it if his friend heard. You weren't trying to be quiet either.
You managed to reduce Geto to this state after all. His head is tossed back, his shirt long gone, his hair a complete mess, and Adam's apple bobbing with each deep swallow he takes as you suck him off. Geto's not concealing his groans in the slightest.
"Aagh... Shit-," He breathes, shifting his head so he can look down at the sight in front of him. "Juust like that. All the way down your fuckin' throat." Geto encourages.
For starters, his cock is huge. Taking him down your throat was not easy and you definitely choked a few times but, he seemed to enjoy that feeling-- the clamping of your throat closing around his shaft, the wetness of your tongue still trying to lick at him, and even the gaging noise that emits from you.
A hand is carefully placed atop your head, urging you to go all the way down. Your eyes are struggling to stay both open and up on the man in front of you, water building up in the corners due to your actions.
"C'mon, that's it." Geto purrs with a lustful grin on his face.
He's not far from blowing a load into your throat. You've been giving him head for a few minutes and he's not sure he was mentally prepared for you to be this damn good. The fact that you keep looking him in the eyes as you throat his cock only makes it worse. Geto wonders if you're aware of the way you look right now.
"F-Fuck," He curses, taking a handful of your hair into his grip and pulling you off him.
Your tongue hangs out your mouth as you pant in an attempt to catch your breath. Your eyes remain up on Geto's, noticing that he's got one arm held over his mouth. You had him seconds away from letting out sounds he'd be embarrassed by-- only he knows that he was nearly on the verge of whimpering because of that damn mouth of yours.
Slowly, you look down at his member in front of you. Your eyes go wider than they had been-- his dick is... pretty? You're not sure if that's the right word to use for it but you do know that you won't stop staring at it. Aside from the fact that it was just in your mouth, you notice it has a curve to it, something that makes your thighs squeeze together.
With the grip Geto has on your hair, you struggle a little while pushing your face forward. Your tongue presses into his shaft and you watch his body shudder.
"S-Shit, stop." He groans, tugging your head back again.
You chuckle a little and meet his eyes again, "Why?" You ask innocently, "Is it too much for you already?"
Danm you, Geto says mentally. He scoffs, "No, I just don't wanna cum yet."
"So... it's too much?" You tease, smiling up at him.
He releases your hair and sighs, "No." He repeats, sounding a little aggravated now.
Released from his hold, you push up on your knees a bit more and you're quick to plant a little kiss on the tip of his cock. "Then stop pulling me away," You whisper before swirling your tongue over him.
He grits his teeth to suppress all sounds from leaving him, looking off to the side to avoid the sight of you. He had it all under control just moments ago so, how the hell did he let you take over like this?
"Told you I didn't wanna-," His words are lost as you take him into your mouth again, "Shit, ha-ah..." He moans, head tipping back to rest on the couch again. Your hands go to his thighs to brace yourself as you suddenly deepthroat his cock. Geto simply chokes, "G-God... Fucking h-hell..." He stammers.
The sound of him struggling has liquids of your arousal sliding down your leg. The feeling is embarrassing but he still has your underwear so, there isn't much you can do about that.
You pull your mouth off him and tilt to the side, kissing along his shaft gently as you look up at him again. He looks completely out of it. "Thought you could handle this kinda thing, Sugu... What happened?" You whisper against him in between pecks.
His eyes are on the ceiling. "Don't call me that..." He whispers in response.
You giggle before sliding down to lick the base of his dick. "Would you rather me keep calling you a pervert?" You ask gently.
His cock twitches and you think you see him cum a little as your words grace his ears. Geto doesn't respond to you though, he just groans-- the sound being the most he can manage by this point.
"Oh, so you weren't lying," You say before dragging your tongue up against him and pulling away once you reach his tip. "You really do like being degraded..." You murmur.
"S-Shut up," Geto demands.
You smirk, "Make me."
He doesn't even move. You've got his brain stuttering by this point. He wanted to move to do something, y'know, fuck you til' you're the one stuttering. And he will... eventually. But as of right now, followed by your words are you moving to suck him off again.
The moment your mouth closes around him again he can't help but grunt. This time around, you're purposefully loud as you bob your head up and down. Slurping and sucking fills the room, accompanied by the deep guttural groans and moans of Geto Suguru.
You lift your mouth to focus on his tip, your hand moving to make up for the rest of his length in quick strokes. You rotate your tongue and hand in sync, doing what you hope is best to please the man.
And boy does that do it for him.
Geto lets it out-- he whines.
You think you feel something slip out of your sex in reaction and you pray that you didn't just cum from the sound of him whining alone. However, that's exactly what it felt like because a moan leaves you and sends vibrations against his member.
"A-Angh... F-Fuck, okay, okay..." Geto begs, wanting you to stop and continue at the same time. "'M gonna cum if you keep-," His jaw drops and another whine leaves him.
You take your mouth away, "Look at me." He does, his eyes noticeably glossy. Your hand continues its menstruation while you speak in a low tone, "That's it," You utter, mocking his earlier words to you. "Now cum for me, Sugu... Please?" You ask.
Geto isn't sure if it was your words, the please you uttered, the way your hand felt, the facial expression you had, or even the way you took him back into your mouth after asking him to cum but... he does. His mouth is open as he experiences an orgasm, seed spilling into your mouth and sliding down your throat while you stroke him through it.
Between his moans, you can hear him whining continuously. Each one upsets him-- you shouldn't have this effect on him but, you do.
By the time he's done and you pull off him, the sound of his phone buzzing beside him is heard. You'd reflexively swallowed down what he gave to you and both of you are panting as you try to collect yourselves.
Once Geto gets himself in order, he grabs his phone with a slightly shaky hand he hopes you don't notice (you definitely did).
He sighs at first, then you see him smile almost wickedly. "Well, shit. Someone's pissed." Geto says with a laugh.
You wipe your mouth off with the back of your hand and give the man curious eyes. Geto glances down at you and then turns his phone so that you can see what he's referring to.
Shown to you are Gojo and Geto's text messages, the newest one from Gojo reading; 'In the living room, srsly? Fuck you man.'. You blink in disbelief, not knowing exactly what to say. Then, above those texts are messages from a few days ago and you spot your name being said by Gojo.
You try to read what the message said but Geto pulls his phone away before you can. "Guess he heard us," He says with another chuckle, finding his roommate's anger humorous.
"I told you we should've gone to your room..." You hum.
Geto types out something in response to Gojo and then clicks his phone off, tossing it aside and looking down at you. "And I told you I wanted him to hear." He says with a grin on his face.
You shake your head in disapproval, "Freak."
"You wanna get me hard again?" He asks with a scoff.
"Yes, actually." You say honestly, "You're the only one who got something out of this so far..."
Geto stares blankly for a second before nodding in understanding. "Y'know what, you're right, gorgeous. C'mon, get up here." He instructs.
Your lashes bat in disbelief. "Shouldn't we go to your room now....?"
"Nope, Satoru's gotta hear me fuck you too," Geto says cheekily.
You scowl slightly, "But-"
"But nothing. He was probably in there jerking off to the sounds anyway." He says with a laugh.
You wouldn't be surprised if that was true but you still didn't really want to continue knowing that Gojo could hear everything.
"Plus," Geto continues, his thighs spreading even further, "He's gonna hear you either way." He informs you.
Well, if changing locations won't stop Gojo from hearing you then, you guess you'll just continue where you are. And, you can consider this payback to the man for making you do all of this anyway.
Your eyes drop down and you notice that Geto's sprung up again, his hard cock resting against his abdomen. A throb is felt from somewhere below you as you finally move to stand up.
When you do, Geto's eyes widen. "Told you," He says suddenly.
You raise a brow at him.
He nods his chin toward you, "I made you cum without even touching you."
Your eyes sink down to yourself and embarrassment floods through you. "T-That wasn't because of you..." You lie.
Geto tilts his head, "Yeah? So who caused that, hm?"
"Doesn't matter." You sigh, brushing the topic off entirely.
The man chuckles at you and you move your hands to the bottom of your dress, slowly raising the item up and soon over your head. Geto's eyes are all over you as you drop the dress on the floor to the side and move to take off your bra along with it.
He swallows hard while you move slowly to take everything off. Precum seeps out the tip of his dick when you finally slide your bra off and meet his eyes.
"Fuck, he was right." Geto sighs, causing you to raise a brow, "You are sexy." He compliments.
With a roll of your eyes, you move to straddle the man. "You're just now noticing?" You ask him with a scoff.
He smiles up at you, his large hands finding themselves on your waist. "No, I'm just now saying it aloud." He corrects.
You place one hand on his shoulder and the other moves down to align his cock with your entrance. You give him a breathy laugh in response and ease yourself down until you're pressed against his tip.
Geto's staring into your eyes as you do so, watching the way you start blinking as if to prepare yourself. "Don't get all scared on me now," He coos.
Your gaze flicks to his. His face is much closer to you now and as you peer into those eyes of his, you notice how pretty his irises are. They aren't just brown, there's a hint of purple in them. Good god, where did Gojo even find this man?
You swallow hard and remain unresponsive to Geto as you admire his eye color. He simply stares back for a minute before his grip on your waist grows surprisingly tight and he starts pulling your body down on him.
The intense eye contact remains as his cock begins to enter you and your lips part to release a shaky breath. About halfway in, you moan and both your arms move to wrap around the man's neck.
Geto smirks at you, still refusing to move his gaze from yours, "You better fuckin' take it," He whispers to you.
"Mm-mmhm," You hum in response, too engrossed in trying to get yourself all the way down to speak.
Your faces draw closer together and he presses his lips to yours as you finally sink all the way down on him. Your lips are quick to part in a moan against him. The kiss you two share is slow at first, matching the steady pace of your hips moving up and down his length.
The sound of your tongues slotting against one another accompanied by the slickness of your cunt swallowing Geto's cock fills the air. Occasionally, Geto would groan into your mouth as you both get used to one another.
It takes you longer than him to get used to the feeling and position.
His length is much too big. Of course, he's sexy and has a big dick-- you're not sure what you were expecting anyways. And even though you just had him in your mouth, when he's stuffed inside you to the point that his tip perfectly kisses your cervix without much movement, you can't help but take a minute to adjust.
Geto on the other hand simply needed a minute or two to get used to the tight clamp of your soaked cunt around him. Hell, with all the teasing and taunting he did with you all night, he didn't even have to prep you. You were so wet that he slipped right in with almost no issue.
You feel his hands abruptly tighten on your waist again and he doesn't even bother to warn you before lifting you and allowing gravity to push you back down aggressively. You're little make-out session with him is broken with a loud moan from you.
Meanwhile, in the nearby bedroom is Gojo Satoru-- forced to listen to every sound that slips through the thin ass walls of the apartment.
Unlike Geto's prediction, he was not, in fact, jerking off to the sounds of you (for once). Instead, he is actually pissed about the whole thing. He doesn't know why either; he told you to do this, he agreed to everything, and most importantly, he needs you to complete this list.
You're unaware of it but, you're Gojo's only option right now. He wasn't lying when he said he was in debt to the people on the list and it's only you that's able to get him out of it.
"F-Fuck... hah, S-Sugu..." Your sweet voice hits Gojo's ears and he grits his teeth.
He wasn't jerking off and he didn't want to but... Fuck, your voice alone will get him every single time. It's intoxicating the way your moaning makes Gojo's cock spring up instantly.
Gojo looks down at the bulge in his sweatpants. It's the third time today. First was in the shower as he thought of you, then after he made out with you in the hallway, and now at the sound of you moaning his best friend's name.
The man has half a mind to leave his room and see if he could join. Geto would agree in a heartbeat and probably say something like the more the merrier. You, on the other hand, well... Gojo doesn't know how you'd react.
He can only imagine the lustful yet fearful look in your eyes, the shakiness of your voice as you ask both of them if they're serious, and the way you'd probably end up agreeing to it because you're just that much of a slut.
Gojo's cock throbs and he groans in frustration, flopping back in his bed and letting his head hit the pillows behind him.
The sound of a hand smacking against your ass can be heard and Gojo only wishes he was out there instead of his friend. "Take it-, fuck... j-just like that, good girl..." Geto is heard praising you, the sound of his stuttering making his friend smile to himself.
Gojo has never heard a woman reduce his best friend to such a state. Stutter? Gojo's pretty sure he's never heard Geto stutter a day in his life. So of course, the sound makes him smile-- it's funny to him how you just have the effect on everyone.
But, the constant clapping sound and lewd, yet vivid, noise of your ridiculously wet cunt sucking in Geto's length over and over and over again is both frustrating Gojo and making his cock start to hurt.
The man flips over onto his stomach and lets out an annoyed groan into his pillow, bringing another one over his head and closing his ears with it to try and drown out the sounds.
That doesn't work at all. He can still hear and even imagine everything going on in the living room. The worst part of it is the fact that it's you he hears the most-- your moaning, your whining, your slickness, and even your heavy breathing.
Gojo wonders if something is wrong with him. Maybe he's imagining the vividness of your sounds because there's no way he only hears you so clearly.
And that turns out to be one hundred percent true because Gojo didn't realize it but his ears had tuned his friend out and focused only on you. He swears he can picture the way your pussy looks sucking his friend in, how moist it is inside, how warm, and how fucking tight.
"Fuck." Gojo curses, his voice muffled by the pillows he's hidden himself under.
Then it only gets worse.
He hears you cum. How the hell does he do that? He's not quite sure himself but maybe it was the way you moaned or the way the constant plopping sound got louder and you're voice was all broken up...
Gojo could tell what position you guys were in and he just knew you had an orgasm as soon as Geto started thrusting up into you. You could be heard asking the man to slow down but, obviously, he didn't.
And Gojo's assumption was right.
You were currently making a mess of Geto's cock, moaning while the man uttered filthy words to you coaxing you through the whole thing.
"You're makin' such a fuckin' mess." Geto groaned, his hips busy thrusting up into you.
Drool was leaving the corner of your lips and you could barely keep your eyes open. "H-Hnngh... hah, a-aagh..." You moaned weakly, your body seconds away from going limp over the man.
Geto chuckles at the fucked out expression you wore, "C'mon...fuck, don't tap out on me yet." He hummed, his low voice not helping in the slightest.
Your hands shift a little and you claw at his shoulder before choking out nothing but a moan in response to him. Geto hisses at the sudden pain but he doesn't slow down.
"Hah... f-fuck." He breathes before his thrusts grow sloppy and eventually slows down.
Your body does go limp and you end up resting your head on his shoulder until he finishes, feeling him pull out at the last second and cum with a loud groan.
The air goes quiet, only the sound of you two panting heavily heard for a while. Your body shudders a little in Geto's hold and he notices your thighs are trembling ever so slightly, the sight making him grin.
"You alright?" He asks.
You nod slowly, "Mhm..."
"Sure?"
"I have to pee." You whisper.
He chuckles at how soft your voice is. "Go pee then, the bathroom's down the hall." He tells you.
You sigh, "Don't think I can walk yet."
Geto knew that but, he wanted to tease you anyway. The grin on his face turns into a smile before he fully wraps his arms around your waist and stands up with you, "This princess treatment is only a one-time thing, alright?" He teases as he carries you off.
You nod your head but you know he's still just messing with you.
Once you're carried to the bathroom, you tell Geto that you can handle yourself. The man says you can shower in that same bathroom and you're surprised that the guest bathroom even has a shower. Before he leaves you, he informs you that he'll grab you a towel and asks you to call him if you need him.
As soon as Geto shut the bathroom door and looked down the hall to his left, looking to see if his friend was going to come out and say anything yet. He doesn't and Geto heads to his room to clean himself off and put something on.
After a few minutes, the man finds himself back in the living room, cleaning all evidence of you and him up off the area you'd been in.
The second he's done and walks back into the hallway, Geto runs into Gojo.
The two make eye contact and Gojo appears to be annoyed while Geto seems pleased.
"You're an asshole, y'know that?" Gojo says to his friend.
Geto laughs at him, "Hey, no one told you to fuck my ex all those years ago."
"I didn't know." Gojo sighs in response.
A hand is placed on Gojo's shoulder and Geto shrugs, "You're all good now though, thanks to her."
Gojo scowls. "That was torture."
"Was it?" Geto says with a smile on his face.
"Yes, asshole. You guys could've gone to her place..." Gojo says, having assumed that's what was going to happen anyway.
Geto raises a brow, "And what about Shoko?"
"A hotel then." Gojo corrects himself.
"Mmmh, true." His best friend replies, shrugging afterward. "But this was more fun and I expected you to come try and join us at some point."
"Thought about it."
Geto blinks, "What made you change your mind?"
Gojo looks over to the nearby closed bathroom door. He hesitates for an unknown reason before saying, "I dunno."
His friend simply scoffs and shakes his head. "Well anyways, she's all yours now. Don't try killing me in my sleep."
"What?" Gojo asks, confused by his friend's words.
Geto gives his roommate a serious look. "I'm saying that I don't have any feelings for her so, you don't have to worry about me trying to get with her."
"Isn't that kinda fucked up?" Gojo asks.
The man beside him scoffs, taken back by Gojo's question. "How?"
"You made her take you on a date." He points out.
"And you set her up to have sex with your best friend...? Who's really the fucked up one here?" Geto says with a laugh.
"I-"
"I'm pretty sure she knows this was a one-and-done kinda' thing." He cuts off, removing his hand from Gojo's shoulder and turning away. "You're the one that has to try to earn her forgiveness."
Gojo's brows furrow, "Why do I need to..."
"Satoru..." Geto pauses and turns his head back, dropping his voice so low that only Gojo can hear him speak, "You can't have a crush on someone you're using to clear your debt."
"I-I don't have a crush on her." Gojo whispers back, "What the hell are you talking about?!"
Geto blinks. "Yes, you do."
"No, I don't."
"Yeah, you do."
"Nuh-uh." Gojo argues back playfully.
His friend laughs and shakes his head while turning away again, "Yuh-huh."
Gojo opens his mouth to say something else but Geto dips into his bedroom before he gets the chance. Then, the man comes back out after a few seconds with a towel in his hands.
Gojo's not sure why but, he moves and takes the item from his roommate, telling him he'll take care of you for the rest of the night.
Geto shakes his head, "She's gonna think I'm a shitty guy if you go in there."
"What, no she won't," Gojo argues.
"Uh, yes she will. No aftercare? How much of an asshole would that make me??"
"I'll tell her you went in your room, laid down for a second, and passed out."
Geto gives the man a dumbfounded look, "You're not serious."
"Good pussy puts people to sleep," He shrugs, "She'll take it as a compliment," Gojo says with a cheeky grin on his face.
"You're an idiot. But fine," Geto sighs, handing Gojo the towel and turning away. "And if she doesn't take it as a compliment, tell her the truth."
"The truth being....?"
"You wanted to see her, Satoru." Geto sighs.
"Oi, that's not-"
"Quit' being delusional." Geto cuts off as he enters his room again and closes the door behind him.
Meanwhile, you sat in the bathroom in a complete daze. You made your way to the tub and got yourself into a nice bath, patiently waiting for Geto to return. You heard him and Gojo talking but you were too out of it to make out their words.
Eventually, you hear a knock on the door and grant permission for whoever it is to enter.
To your surprise, a white head of hair pops into the bathroom and you make out Gojo's stupidly pleased blue eyes gazing at you. Your mouth opens to ask why he's coming in to bother you but, you're too tired to argue so you simply hum and lay your head back on the tub.
Gojo makes his way inside, closing the door behind him and walking over to you. He places a towel down on the edge and crouches down to you. Your eyes meet his and you wonder why he's so close to you.
"Hi Toru," You greet lazily.
Gojo's heart throbs in his chest and the nickname alone makes him smile way too fucking hard. "Hi sweetheart." He replies in a gentle tone, tilting his head as he studies your face, "Have fun?"
You shrug, "Yeah."
"Yeah? You sound sleepy." Gojo coos, moving a hand to caress the side of your face.
You unconsciously lean into his touch and shut your eyes, "I am..." You sigh.
For a minute, Gojo just keeps caressing the side of your face and you let him without saying a word. He admires your face, adoring the gentle fucked out expression you still have.
Slowly, you open your eyes when you don't hear him say anything. Kind blue eyes peer into your own, his look holding a surprising amount of affection you weren't expecting. You lean up a little, away from his hand, and then turn so that your upper half is facing him.
Most of your body is out of his line of sight, covered by the soapy water you made for yourself. "Toru?" You hum.
Gojo blinks, "Hm?"
"You okay?" You ask.
He smiles at the fact that you even asked such a thing, as if you don't appear to be two seconds away from passing out. "I'm fine, sweetheart. Why?" He questions.
"You keep starin' at me..." You murmur.
Gojo chuckles, the sound oddly attractive to you. He has a nice laugh. "I can't help it," Gojo sighs, "You're so cute."
You pout, "How...?"
He leans close to you, eyes dropping down to your lips. "You look like you got dicked down pretty good and I think that look is cute. 'S that okay?" He murmurs.
Your head nods in response and Gojo grins. He then inhales deeply and you watch his eyes widen. "What?" You ask, referring to his reaction to the smell.
Gojo starts laughing, again making your heart feel all weird because of how it sounds. "You smell like me." He tells you.
Your eyes mimic his own as they widen in surprise. You look down at yourself, as if that'll change the soap you've used.
"Out of the four soaps in this bathroom, how is it that you managed to use mine?" Gojo asks teasingly.
You frown and look back up at him, feeling embarrassed. "I dunno, I just picked the one that looked nice..."
"Don't they all look nice?"
"I mean, yeah but-,'" You sigh, "Stop teasing me Satoru."
"Aw, don't do thaat. Go back to callin' me Toru." He pleads.
You give him a glare, "I was half-sleep when I called you that."
"You said it twice though..." Gojo says with a pout.
You stare at the cute expression he holds.
Gojo slowly starts to smile the more you stare at him. Then, he tips his head to the side and moves his hands onto the edge of the tub. The man pushes to stand on his knees and then leans toward you. You lean back, soapy bubbles keeping your chest covered from his gaze.
Your lashes bat at him in confusion until your head meets the wall and you can't back away from him anymore. Gojo has an almost solemn look on his face all of a sudden.
The words are slow to leave your mouth but you manage to say something. "Lemme guess... You wanna kiss me now?" You whisper.
Gojo nods, the motion nearly desperate. "How'd you know?"
You sigh and shake your head at him, now moving to get closer to him, "You get this little look in your eyes when you want one."
His brows furrow, "You pay attention to me that much?"
You get suddenly flustered. "N-No..."
His heart flutters and he can't help but smile at you. "Fuck, you're adorable."
You move a hand to the back of his neck to pull him close and yourself up at the same time, "Shut up." You whisper.
Gojo's smile remains as your lips press to his and both of you share a surprisingly loving kiss? The gentleness of it makes both of your heartbeats increase. His lips are to tender over yours and he even moves to hold your face in his hands, your cheeks covered by his cold palms in a matter of minutes.
You don't know why the two of you are kissing like this but, it feels good.
When you pull away, your eyes are slow to open. "Toru," You whisper.
He smiles from ear to ear, his face suddenly reddened. "Yes, love?"
Love? Oh hell, that's a new nickname. It makes your heart... swell? Throb? Pound? You don't even know. Your heart just feels all funny in your chest. This is one of those moments where you forget the man is blackmailing you to do things...
You giggle tiredly, "I think 'm sleepy now." You mumble to him.
Gojo sighs, taking in all of your presence for a long moment before replying to that. "That's alright, you can sleep in my room." He hums to you eventually.
"M'kay." You respond softly.
And with that, the two of you are left in the presence of one another for the rest of the night, both having no clue what feelings are building up inside...
𝜗𝜚 you're only supposed to be doing your job as he requested- but what happens when it turns out that trueform!Sukuna is actually… a slut for praise?
more like this
ೃ࿔*:･
The sharp smell of the ointment ordered freshly from the mortar and pestles of the nearby apothecary cleaves through the humid air of the room, steam curling upwards from heated water to dampen the ends of your hair and lap at soft, naked skin.
Silks lie in a pool at your bare feet, dropped to the floor at Sukuna’s request- you assume the King of Curses doesn’t enjoy being the only naked one, even if the steam hides his hulking body mostly from view. And even if you've seen it all before.
Your palms tremble as you dip into the ointment again, the cooling sensation doing nothing to quell the nervous beating of your heart. You’ve touched him before, in more intimate places than just his back, but this feels different somehow.
Maybe it’s the way you’re the one touching him as you see fit, and not the other way around. Maybe it’s the clear imbalance between your job title and the actions of current.
As a concubine, perhaps this is not your intended position. Perhaps the men and the elderly councillors they represent would prefer you to remain as is, hidden away inside rose scented corners, as a body wrapped in silk, while a trained maid takes care of this. But you were requested specifically- as always.
When you were summoned to the baths, you were expecting to serve as usual; women had fixed your hair with rosewood pins and jade combs, tied your silk with trembling hands. You yourself had walked patiently, anticipating the moment you would be left to fend for yourself.
“We cannot go further.” One of the women had whispered, eyes wide as she made a final unnecessary adjustment to your outfit. “We are not permitted within the bathhouse.” She’d thrusted a pile of heavy robes into your steady hands.
“For… for after. For him.”
You’d nodded then, waiting for their leave as steam licked under the door and curled around your ankles. Instead of finding him spread out in the bath, grinning at you with glinting canines as expected, you found a small pot of healing ointment and Sukuna reclining calmly in the heated water.
“Apply more pressure.” He grunts, snapping you out of it, your practiced hands dabbing softly at the gashes on his muscled back.
“It looks painful.” You grimace, ointment settling across the skin, healing the sinews and swelling. No doubt the blade lies shattered, metal twisted just as grimly as the body of the person who did this. “The cuts are-“
“I do not feel it.” Sukuna says, adjusting his position in the bath. His frame is so large that water laps around, wavering around the spread thighs resting below the surface. “I said more pressure.”
Brows furrowed in concentration, your fingers work the muscle but avoid the cuts directly, the broken flesh slathered with swathes of minty ointment.
You balk, wincing and pausing your ministrations as a small dribble of blood cuts through the shallow scabbing. “I do not wish to hurt you, my lord-“
One of four clawed hands darts out of the water, encircling your wrist tightly- his eyes (all of them) are narrowed darkly in a glare that makes your knees weak. “Do not pity me." He spits, as though the mere notion disgusts him, "Move your hands.”
He doesn’t bother to look back as he speaks, merely loosening the grip on your wrist while his eyes narrow, facing forwards. He knows you'll obey, because everybody does.
You do as asked, terror surfacing in your bloodstream, but the familiar feeling of his skin on yours awakens a desire you’d be futile to resist. Gentle, terrifyingly sweet human hands grace Sukuna’s body, dipping below where the warm water flows against his chest.
He does not react outwardly, but you hear the way his breath deepens.
“I do not pity you.” You murmur, pert nipples brushing against his back, “I envy you.”
Your hands creep lower, fingertips brushing the already stiffened head of his first cock. Sukuna’s hips roll lazily upwards, just once, but it’s enough to make your mouth water.
“How so?” He asks roughly, reclining pleasurably against your chest.
“Well…” you begin breathily, lips moving prettily around the honeyed syllables. “I envy your strength-“ the noun is punctured with your palm wrapping around his cock as the other strokes along his biceps. He makes an odd sound low in his throat almost akin to a purr, but you know better than to acknowledge it.
“Your endurance never ceases to thrill me-“ thumb nicking the smooth tip, the skin feels hot under your grip- even hotter than the bath, as tiny strips of slick bead into the water.
“Mmm.” Sukuna groans in agreement, eyelids flicking shut as pleasure creeps into his body, stemming from the feeling of your touch.
The hand slowly working on his first cock bobs to his second, applying pressure to the neglected veins zigzagging around the length. How you wish you could see clearly through the steam, warmth enveloping his sharp features and the prominent ridge on his nose.
“I envy your beauty-“ his eyes snap open in warning. Nobody has ever dared to call the King of Curses beautiful- except maybe you.
“Yes, your beauty.” You continue boldly, spare hand dragging marks down his spine and chest, “your markings-“ a thumb presses over the inky black tattoos, “your eyes…”
His chest, his back, his four arms, his cocks- nowhere is missed as you lavish attention and praise onto him, thighs clenching together at every pleased sound released from his parted lips.
It isn’t long before his hips are bucking up languidly into your awaiting palm, your hand switching expertly between both lengths; squeezing at the base, flicking your wrist at the tip the way he loves.
He comes undone with a low rumble in his chest, your words of praise never ceasing their relentless attacks on his ears; the soft titters work as well as the ointment left abandoned on the side.
Sticky, slow trails of his release string in the scented water, bypassing the way they’d usually streak across your fingers.
You allow yourself a small, self-satisfied smile into his skin, hand still working him through the aftershocks. Who would’ve guessed that Ryomen Sukuna was such a slut for praise?
Your lips press tentatively to his jaw. “Would you like me to fetch your robes? I brought them in fresh-“ the words are cut off by your own spluttered gasp as four strong hands connect with your body, manhandling you down into the bath.
There’s an unnervingly calm grin cracking across Sukuna’s features, his nails laying claim to the soft skin he’s so accustomed to touching as he splits your thighs apart across his lap.
“What were you saying about my endurance?”
ೃ࿔*:･
masterlist
a/n: @kissthesword ty for the idea! <3 + I knowww I said I was on a hiatus, but I enjoyed writing this so much I couldn't let it stay in the drafts!!
18+. minors dni. rue bennett definitely has the sort of strap game that has you face down sobbing into the bed— especially if you were mouthing off to her before? she’s mean enough to make you work for it, watches you bounce yourself back onto her dick. she leans down, chest pressed against your back only to murmur “yeah, see? there you go. good girl, show me you fuckin’ want it.” she lets out a cocky, airy laugh when you whine out daddy. “feels good, huh, baby? you like that shit?” you can only respond with a whiny sob when her arm finds its way around your neck.
“whiny little mess— so fucking mean before, but now i’m daddy. too fuckin’ easy, baby.” she always starts to ramble when she’s fucking you, talks filth into your ear relentlessly. it does nothing but make you clench around her strap. “shouldn’t even be giving it t’you right now, fuckin’ brat.” you cry out when she crooks her hips in a way that lets her get impossibly deeper in you, your hands grabbing at the arm around your neck. “i’m sorry, daddy, ‘m sorry— gonna be better, i promise,” you babble. it’s bullshit— you and her both know it. it’s why she loves this, though. getting to watch you curse her out and jab your little fingers at her chest… all while knowing she gets to fuck the attitude out of you once you’re done bitching at her.
Megan cooked for that man’s family, spent holidays with him, brought his favorite artists out for his birthday, bought a house with the man, expensive gifts, had him in such good graces with female fans bases—
JUST TO CHEAT. NOW KLAY THOMPSON IS PUBLIC ENEMY #1
he's slumped across the couch in the frat house the following morning, one arm draped over his eyes, the other dangling off to the side, phone lighting up beside him every few seconds because he keeps unlocking it for no reason.
there's nothing on it. nothing he cares about, anyway.
no new notifications from you, no mysterious appearance of your contact, no divine intervention.
just the same empty screen, again. and again. and again.
he hasn’t moved in ten minutes.
“he’s dead,” toji says from the kitchen, pouring himself coffee like this is a normal tuesday.
“tragic,” geto replies, scrolling on his phone. “cause of death?”
“ego collapse,” toji says.
gojo groans into the cushion. “i can hear you.”
“good,” toji says. “then hear this. she’s not into you.”
gojo lifts his head just enough to glare at him. “i just need to see her again.”
"she's not into you, bro," toji says flatly. "how many times do i have to say it?"
“you watched one conversation. i have plenty of time for redemption.”
“you introduced yourself like an idiot,” geto shrugs. "good luck."
"i didn't introduce myself properly," gojo snaps. "that's the problem."
"oh, sorry," toji deadpans. "you announced yourself."
gojo throws a pillow at him.
right then, choso comes down the stairs, already dressed. "i'm going to my girlfriend's," he says quietly, pulling on his shoes.
three heads turn, and gojo stands up so fast it's almost alarming. "is y/n gonna be there?"
choso hesitates. "maybe? she was there when i texted this morning."
gojo's already halfway across the room. "i'm coming."
"no you're not," toji says immediately.
"yes i am."
"you're not invited," geto adds.
"i'll be quiet," gojo insists. "i'll be normal."
toji laughs. "you don't know how to do either of those things, dumbass."
gojo ignores him, already grabbing his coat. "choso. please."
choso blinks at him, stuck between concern and confusion. "i don't know if that's—"
"please," gojo repeats, hands clasped together. "i'll do anything."
"anything?" geto asks, delighted.
gojo shoots him a look. "not you, you dumb fuck."
"...i don't know if that's a good idea," choso says carefully.
"i'll sit in a corner. i won't speak unless spoken to. i'll—"
"that's a lie," toji cuts in.
"i'll try," gojo says, desperate now. "just let me come."
choso looks at him and sighs, grabbing his keys. "...fine."
twenty minutes later, gojo is standing outside the apartment door trying to look normal.
he fails immediately. he runs a hand through his hair. fixes his shirt. checks his reflection in the black screen of his phone. wipes his hands on his jeans.
“relax,” choso mutters, knocking.
“i am relaxed,” gojo says, voice too tight.
the door swings open and choso’s girlfriend beams. “hi, cho!”
then her eyes flick to gojo. her smile widens, just a little too knowingly. “oh,” she says. “hey!”
“hey,” he says, suddenly very aware of his posture, his face, his entire existence. she steps aside to let them in, then glances over her shoulder toward the living room and smirks.
“y/n, you have a visitor,” she sing-songs.
gojo follows her gaze to where you’re on the couch, legs tucked under you, scrolling on your phone.
your eyes land on gojo. there’s a beat, and your expression flattens in real time. "...oh."
you glance at your friend who's already watching you like she’s about to enjoy this.
you roll your eyes. hard.
“hey,” gojo says, trying for casual and landing somewhere near painfully obvious. “funny running into you again.”
“you followed your friend to his girlfriend's apartment,” you say. “this isn't a coincidence.”
choso’s girlfriend snorts and disappears into the kitchen, holding choso's hand, before she gets dragged into it.
traitor.
gojo hovers awkwardly for a second before sitting on the edge of the couch, leaving a respectful gap between you.
you don’t look at him again.
he waits, and waits. “...so,” he starts.
“so,” you echo, still scrolling.
“you left early.”
“i had stuff to do.”
he shifts awkwardly. “you could’ve said bye.”
you glance up, unimpressed. “to who.”
him.
he swallows. “to people.”
“i said bye to people i wanted to say bye to.”
ouch.
from the kitchen, there’s a muffled choking sound that is definitely choso’s girlfriend laughing into her hand.
“you’re mean in the morning too, huh,” he mutters.
“you showed up uninvited,” you reply calmly. “what did you expect, a welcome basket?”
he exhales softly. “can i make it up to you?”
you finally look at him properly, eyes a little cold and unblinking. “make what up to me?”
“last night,” he says. “i sounded like an idiot. i—i can do better.”
“was that you trying?”
“no,” he says quickly. “last night was a rough draft.”
you stare at him for a second then look back to your phone. “nice.”
he smiles despite himself. “can i get a second draft?”
“convincing pitch,” you say dryly.
he leans forward slightly, earnest. “just give me, like, one chance to not be that guy.”
“i’m good.”
gojo sits there, blinking like he got hit with cold water. “do you—uh—have instagram?”
“no.”
“no like, you don’t have it? or—”
“no, i’m not giving it to you.”
he winces. “your number?”
“no.”
“snap?”
“no.”
“email?”
you stare at him. “are you serious right now?”
“i’m being thorough.”
“you’re being annoying.”
“i can be less annoying if you give me one of them.”
“or,” you say, “you could be less annoying by leaving me alone.”
he runs a hand down his face. “listen, i—i just wanna see you again.”
“you’re seeing me right now,” you deadpan.
“give me a chance?”
“no.” you shut your eyes like his presence alone is a nuisance and grab your bag, standing up. “i’m leaving.”
gojo straightens instantly. “what? why?”
“because i have things to do and you’re giving me a headache.” you give your friend a quick thanks and wave bye to choso, heading for the door.
“i’ll walk you,” gojo says.
“you don’t need to.”
“i want to.”
“i don’t want you to.”
“i’m going to anyway.”
you stare at him. he stares back, smiling widely.
so annoying.
you roll your eyes again and he follows immediately as you walk out.
the elevator ride is quiet for exactly three seconds. “you sure i can’t get your number?”
“pretty sure.”
“just pretty sure?”
“entirely sure,” you correct, glaring at him.
"okay, but—just one thing," he tries again, hovering over you. "anything. please, i'll take anything."
"take the hint," you say.
"i'm ignoring the hint," gojo replies. "you're killing me, y/n."
“you’ll live.”
“i don’t think i will, actually.”
you press the button for the ground floor. “okay.”
when the doors ding you step out and he follows, walking beside you insistently. "one more chance," he tries.
"no."
"one coffee."
"no."
“if i give up, will you at least feel bad?”
“no.”
“wow.”
you keep walking, he keeps pace. “okay, new deal,” he says quickly. “if you give me your instagram, i will shut up. completely. never bother you again.”
you stop and turn, something flickering across your face. “you swear?” you ask.
“swear,” he says immediately.
you study him for one long second then sigh.
“fine,” you mutter, pulling out your phone. “if i give you my instagram, you'll shut up?”
his face lights up. "yes."
"completely?"
"completely."
"no talking?"
"silent," he vows.
"forever?"
"i mean—"
your eyes narrow and he backtracks, stammering. "yes. yes, forever, silent."
you recite your handle. "...yeah. and there's an underscore there."
he types it in carefully, nearly fumbling his own phone as he pulls it out.
"thank you," he says quietly, ducking his head down.
you turn to leave, and you barely make it four steps.
“…hi,” he calls after you.
you stop, slowly turn your head.
he smiles sheepishly. “i lied. you know i can't stay silent.”
you give him a last look before turning around.
he stands there for a second after you disappear out the building doors, like his brain needs a moment to catch up to what just happened. he looks down at your instagram, where his follow request is pending. you've got a private account.
your instagram is right there. literally right there.
“…holy shit,” he breathes. he practically floats back to the elevator, his whole body buzzing in excitement. eventually he stumbles out, makes it back down the hall, and pushes choso's girlfriend's apartment door open with energy.
she takes one look at his face and immediately starts smiling. “oh my god.”
“you’re glowing,” she laughs, shutting the door behind him.
he doesn’t even respond to that, just drops straight onto the couch, sprawled out, holding his phone up like it’s sacred scripture. “i got her instagram,” he repeats, to no one and everyone at the same time.
choso, standing nearby, blinks at him slowly. “…okay.”
choso leans back slightly like the phone might explode. “i believe you.”
“she gave it to me,” gojo insists, like this is the part that matters most.
“after you begged?” choso’s girlfriend asks sweetly.
“i did not beg,” gojo says immediately. “i negotiated.”
choso’s girlfriend raises a brow. “mm. what were the terms of this negotiation?”
“she said if she gave me her instagram, i had to shut up.”
choso actually laughs. "gojo, i just don't think she likes you."
"she hates me," he says fondly, hearts radiating out of his eyes as he leans back onto the couch. "she hates me so much."
eventually, even gojo runs out of reasons to sit there refreshing the same screen like it owes him something. he pushes himself up off the couch, stretching once, phone still glued to his hand. “alright, i’m gonna head back.”
choso nods, already half-turned toward his girlfriend. “yeah, okay.”
there’s a pause, then choso clears his throat, not looking at him. “i’ll… stay a bit longer.”
his girlfriend immediately bites back a smile.
gojo looks between them once. “…oh,” he says.
choso goes a little red, his girlfriend giggles.
gojo lifts both hands. “no, yeah. stay. absolutely. take your time. take…all the time..” he’s already halfway to the door, shaking his head with a grin. “have fun. be safe. don’t do anything i wouldn’t do.”
“that’s not a high bar,” she calls after him.
“it’s a respectable bar,” he shoots back, already slipping out.
the second he pushes the door to the frat house open he's announcing triumphantly, "i got it!"
toji, sprawled across the couch, doesn’t even look up. “you got what.”
“her instagram,” gojo says.
that gets geto’s attention immediately. “she gave it to you?” he asks, brows lifting.
“i told you,” gojo shoots back, dropping onto the armchair this time, leaning back like he just won something. “i said i’d see her again.”
geto hums, watching him carefully. “and?”
“and nothing,” gojo says, waving a hand. “we talked. she insulted me like five times. it was great.”
toji finally glances over. “you’re smiling.”
gojo immediately wipes it off his face. “i’m not.”
“you are.”
“i’m not,” he insists, failing completely because the smile is already creeping back.
geto laughs quietly. “did she seem thrilled about giving it to you?”
gojo drops onto the couch, restless. “she told me to shut up.”
“romantic,” toji mutters.
"w—wait." gojo sits up so fast he almost drops his phone. “she accepted.”
geto raises a brow. “already?”
“don’t say ‘already’ like it hasn’t been the longest wait of my life,” gojo snaps, but there’s no bite to it. he’s already tapping into your profile.
your page loads and gojo's eyes scan it slowly, taking in every detail like he’s afraid he’ll miss something. “…holy shit,” he breathes.
geto leans over slightly. “what.”
gojo doesn’t respond. he scrolls, one post to another. there aren't many, but every single one hits him like a punch to the chest. you're laughing on one, head tilted back, sunlight catching on your face.
gojo's never seen you laugh like that. you're beautiful.
you in another, dressed up, looking directly at the camera with that same unimpressed expression you gave him. you, blurry in motion in one photo, mid-step, still somehow perfect.
gojo just stares. “she's beautiful,” he mutters.
“let me see,” geto says, leaning closer.
gojo tilts the phone away immediately. “no.”
geto raises a brow. “why not.”
“because,” gojo says, already scrolling again.
“because what,” geto presses, leaning in anyway.
gojo angles the phone even further out of reach, twisting his body like he’s shielding classified information. “because you don’t need to see.”
toji finally sits up a little, interest piqued now. “oh, now we definitely need to see.”
“no, you don’t,” gojo says quickly, thumb still moving, eyes glued to the screen like he might miss something if he blinks.
geto tries to peek over his shoulder. “you’re acting weird.”
“i’m not acting weird.”
“you’re hunched over your phone like a dragon guarding treasure.”
“okay, first of all, dragons are cool,” gojo mutters. “second, back up.”
toji leans over the back of the couch, glancing down. “damn.”
gojo jerks the phone away instinctively. “don’t—”
“nah,” toji cuts in, already grinning. “she’s bad.”
“she’s not ‘bad,’” gojo snaps immediately. “don’t say it like that.”
toji smirks. “what, we’re not allowed to acknowledge she’s hot?”
"she's beautiful, okay? shut up."
geto watches him, something amused flickering in his expression. “interesting.”
gojo doesn't hear him. he's so lost in his little world, gazing at your pictures with a loopy grin. it’s not just that you’re pretty.
he exhales slowly, eyes never leaving his screen. “i like her,” he says finally.
toji groans immediately. “oh my god, we lost him.”
you don’t think about gojo the whole way home.
okay, maybe you think about him a little. it’s hard not to think about him after he begged for your instagram.
you sigh, dragging a hand over your face once you get to your apartment. “so irritating.”
your phone buzzes in your hand and you already know who it is.
other half: no way
other half: NO way you gave it to him 😭
you roll your eyes, already typing.
you: i didn’t give it to him
you: he begged
three dots immediately.
other half: mhm
you: shut up
you open instagram, purely for research purposes. you hesitate for half a second before opening his profile. “…oh.”
okay.
so.
this is what he looks like when he’s not standing in front of you being unbearable.
you scroll slowly. annoyingly slowly, because your brain is taking in details. he's good looking. stupidly good looking. unfairly so.
pictures with friends.
pictures at parties.
pictures where he’s clearly aware he looks good.
the comments are all the same, too. girls. so many girls. heart eyes, fire emojis, variations of 'marry me' and 'ur so fine'. you make a face.
other half: i knew it btw
you: knew what
other half: that you were into him
you: absolutely not
other half: you gave him your instagram
you: after he begged
other half: you could’ve said no
you: i DID say no
other half: and then you said yes
you: he was being annoying
you: i wanted him to stop talking
other half: mhm
other half: and now you’re on his profile
you freeze. “…she’s so nosy,” you mutter, immediately typing.
you: i’m not
other half: liar
you look down at his profile again, thumb hovering over one of his pictures. you zoom in slightly without thinking, onto his stupid face and stupid smile and stupid blue eyes.
you: he’s just
you: objectively attractive
you: it’s not that deep
other half: sure
you narrow your eyes at the screen.
you: i don’t like him
other half: okay
you: he’s arrogant
other half: mhm
you: and annoying
other half: mhm
other half: he’s down bad btw
your brows pull together.
you: what
other half: like…bad bad
other half: he came back here looking like he won the lottery
scary dog privilege w/ megumi fushiguro | fluff tw: harassment ; violence (all very vague)
living in tokyo, you’ve grown accustomed to the nightly gauntlet of the lone commute via foot: unwanted stares, slurred “hey, cute girl,” and the occasional “come join us, yeah?” from men drifting along the sidewalks. aggravating to say the least, yet largely harmless—provided the pace stayed brisk and eye contact remained nonexistent.
most of it tapered off once megumi fushiguro started accompanying your walks. you chalked it up to the simple social logic that a male companion acts as a deterrent for drunks, opportunists and pervos alike. the thought never crossed your mind that megumi’s resting expression is actually terrifying to the average passerby; why would it? when your boy is nothing but soft sighs and gentle touches in private.
tonight, however, the walk back from the cinema is interrupted by a trio of men, loitering outside. crude comments are hurled your way, heedless of the fact that your boyfriend is right there beside you, your arm looped through his while his hands remain tucked in his pockets. and while megumi seems peeved, you both opt for silence, quickening your pace with the tacit agreement that confrontation isn't worth the energy.
“hey,” he says suddenly, stopping short in front of a familymart. he pulls a few bills from his wallet and presses them into your palm. “go get yourself something. i’m going to check the alley.”
you stare down at his hand, which is still covering yours. as if reluctant to let you go.
“…what for?”
a slight tilt of his chin indicates a dark, narrow gap wedged between two apartment buildings. “might be a nest of fly heads there. won’t take long to exorcise.”
-
by the time the cashier is bagging your chips and soda, the earlier unpleasantness has already begun to fade. it’s only a glance through the glass storefront that brings the memory rushing back. across the street, illuminated by the jaundiced glow of a streetlamp, stands that spiky-haired silhouette of the one you so adore. two men lying crumpled on the pavement, the third (made recognisable by the red sukajan) is attempting to crawl away as megumi advances with unnerving calm.
...oh. so nobara wasn’t exaggerating when she said megumi supposedly beat up bullies in his middle school.
your cunt gushes obscenely with every deep thrust of simon's hips, both of your arms behind your back with a single large hand of his.
his cock, heavy and pulsing inside of you, thumps against your cervix each time he humps your ass, sloshing around the old loads of his cum that he already dispensed within your pussy.
he has you on your knees, chest against the bed, your nipples stiff and dry from the constant stimulation. its painful, he's had you come several times around him, finding enterainment in the way you so easily can gush around him with a flick of his fingers on your clit.
"shiimon," you slur out, muffled in the sheets damp with your slick and tears and other fluids. simon stops his ruthless pounding on your cunt, opting for a harsh grind balls deep against your cervix, teasing the already battered and bruised tissue.
"tha's tha shit huh, baby?" he says lowly, almost out of breath. "enjoyin' yourself?"
you whine at his teasing, attempting to hide yourself into the ruined pillows before simon is slapping a heavy hand onto the sensitive flesh of your asscheek, already red with his hand print. he can be so mean sometimes.
you're not given a warning before simons laying his entire 250 pound pure hardened muscle of a body onto your much more sensitive and fragile one, screaming helplessly as the last inch of his cock that you always struggle to take slides in forcefully, pressing painfully against your cervix as if he was on a mission to break it and pass through into your womb.
if only.
with his body weight fully on top of you, youre given no choice but to go limp and flat against the mattress, your tummy and breasts digging into the material. simon lets out a throaty moan when your cunt squeezes around him, cock twitching upwards into what feels like must be your guts as you messily cum on his cock, your juices leaking out around him and creating an even bigger mess on his and your thighs.
"thats it girl, good girl," he praises, his hips tight against your ass. he leans down, his chest against your back so he can lay open-mouthed kisses against your earlobe, relishing in the way you shiver and attempt to squirm away from the overwhelming stimulation.
simon begins rocking his hips once more, slowly. feeling your walls open and close with every in and out of his movement. the peace is there for a moment, you're quiet and almost comatose from how good he's fucking you until simon becomes discontempt with your silence and hes angling his hips and pulling out until his tip is hardly inside of you and slamming back inside to the hilt.
its with the new angle that your back is forced to arch, pressure elevated to your lower tummy and as result your bladder.
its then that you begin to really panic. thrashing wildly and sobbing for simon to stop, clawing at his hand that is holding yours.
"s-simon! 'm gunna pee!" you cry, face hot as summer sun from pure embarrassment.
simon only scoffs, smiling lightly at your panicking. but he doesnt move. he instead uses his forearms to hold himself up, using his weight and slamming his hips against your ass with a lewd "plap plap plap".
youre wailing at this point. his ruthless thrusts force your tummy against the mattress, the immense pressure of his tip plunging against your cervix, proves to be too much for you. youve taken everything he's given you, letting him wear you like a fleshlight until youre nearly bursting at the seams, but this is too much.
"simon!" you warn one last time, sobbing and trying to push yourself upwards and away from him. with one final aimed thrust to your cervix, the dam breaks loose, your eyes rolling to the back to your head as you tremble and your muscle contract painfully as you cum once more, except instead the water isnt a small trickle and instead its a long stream of your piss.
simon just moans, long and loud, tipping his head back, continuing his thrusts. he flushes at the lewd sight of you twitching so cutely, pissing yourself from cumming too hard from his efforts.
he bites at his lips, humping weakly against you some more before hes pulling out, wet squelches audible as he pulls his engorged cock from the tight confines of your pussy. if you werent fucked nearly to the last inch of your life, you would feel the mattress dip underneath simons heavy weight as he shuffed towards your face, jerking his cock noisily over your face, his eyes glued to the puffiness of your eyes and cheeks, the wetness from your tears and the clear defeat in your bones, tipping him over the edge and at long last cursing your name as his cock spurts several hot ropes of his potent cum over your adorable face.
♡ husband!satoru’s genes are just too strong ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!
part 2
you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand resting on your very obvious baby bump, the other clutching the newest ultrasound.
“i’m done,” you declare.
across the room, satoru pauses mid taking his shirt off. “done… with pregnancy? because i feel like that’s a little late.”
“with your genes,” you snap, glaring at the photo. “they’re ridiculous. actually unfair.”
he snorts, walking over. “nothing i can do about that, sweetheart.”
you shove the ultrasound toward him. “explain this.”
he looks at it, then at you. “…that is a baby.”
“that is you,” you correct immediately. “again. for the third time.”
he hums like he’s considering it. “we don’t know that.”
“we do,” you insist, growing more emotional by the second.
“we have two already, toru. two tiny versions of you running around with your face, your hair, your stupidly pretty eyes—what am i even contributing?!”
“everything?” he offers.
“no,” you shake your head, pouting. “i carried them for months. i’m carrying this one. i do all the work and your genes just— copy, paste, repeat!”
he tries— he really does— but a grin slips out anyway. “to be fair, it’s a very good face to copy—”
“satoru.”
“right. not the time.”
you huff, looking down at your stomach. the baby shifts faintly, and it only makes your emotional state worse. “i just… i want one that looks like me.”
that quiets him instantly.
he steps closer, slower this time, like approaching something fragile. kneeling in front of you, he gently takes your hand and places it more securely over your bump, covering it with his own.
“they are like you,” he says, softer now.
“they don’t look like me,” you mumble.
“they have your expressions. your attitude,” he replies. “the way they get emotional over the smallest things—”
“it’s not small!”
“—and the big things,” he corrects easily, a small smile tugging at his lips. “that’s all you.”
you hesitate, but your eyes are still shiny. “that’s not the same.”
“it is to me.” his thumb brushes under your eye, catching a tear before it falls. “and this one? might surprise us.”
“you said that last time.”
“okay, yeah,” he admits, “and i was wrong.. twice. but y’know— third time’s a charm.”
a reluctant laugh slips out of you.
“there she is,” he murmurs, leaning in until your foreheads touch. “besides… even if our baby comes out looking exactly like me—”
“she will.”
“—she’s still yours first,” he says gently. “you’re the one she hears, the one she feels. you’re home before she even opens her eyes.”
that makes your expression falter.
“…and,” he adds, grin returning just a little, “if we do end up with three mini me’s, i think that just proves you have excellent taste.”
you let out a shaky breath, then weakly smack his shoulder. “your genes are still stupid.”
“yeah,” satoru says easily, wrapping his arms around you and your bump, “but you married into the problem.”
you grumble, but melt into him anyway, his hand resting warm and steady over your stomach.
“…next one better look like me,” you mumble.
“personally, i do not mind if we keep trying.”
“and what— create a whole clan?” you huff.
“i mean—” you slap a hand on his mouth before he can continue.
+18. mdni. fem!reader. college au. fluff, smut. based on this post.
a/n. thank u so much for 2k followers! here's a little gift, I hope y'all like it <33
he does it so often it’s muscle memory at this point.
you could be on your way out of his room for your lecture—car keys in hand, already halfway to the hallway—when his voice cuts across his room where he is seated in front of his pc. he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“give me a kiss before you go.”
not can i get.
not come here.
just like you forgot something essential. like walking out without your phone. or without kissing him…right now.
you sigh, already turning around.
he doesn’t even look up from his screen until you’re right there, tilting your face up, and then he leans in—quick, satisfied—like there, that’s better. now you can leave.
he smirks, gaze turning back to his game. “i’ll pick you up later to grab lunch.”
you roll your eyes despite the thrumming of your heart as you walk out of his room.
you’re on the couch of his family home, legs tucked under you while you scroll on your phone, the tv playing something you’re not watching.
he drops beside you with a heavy thud, the entire cushion dipping toward him so you naturally slide into his side with one arm immediately hooking around your shoulders, dragging you into his side.
“c’mere, gorgeous,” he mutters, already pulling you against his chest. “give me a hug.”
“you’re literally already hugging me.”
“yeah,” he says, squeezing tighter anyway. “but you need to put your arms around me too.”
you giggle, hands sliding across his back as he sinks on the couch with you, going limp against you, letting out a long, grounded exhale like you’re a human weighted blanket.
you’re in the frat kitchen when he’s passing through on his way to grab a drink as you cook ramen for movie night, his movements lazy and loose-limbed. he pauses, opening the cap of his drink as he looks at you, eyes stopping on your cherry tainted lips. then holds eye contact.
“…kiss.”
you scoff, arching a brow. “that wasn’t even a sentence, ‘kuna.”
he waits, shrugging one shoulder as if to say the words are irrelevant because the outcome is inevitable because you end up leaning over the counter to peck his mouth.
“good,” he nods, the corners of his lips tugging up, like you just completed a task correctly, and keeps walking.
you watch him dumbfounded, not knowing whether you want to kiss him again or smack him across the face.
you’ve barely made it out of his room after a heated makeout session—your lips swollen, brain still foggy and very much late for your morning lecture—when he catches your wrist before you can escape.
he’s still sitting on the edge of the bed, looking completely unbothered by the chaos of your schedule.
“hey,” he rasps, tugging your arm just enough to throw you off balance and back toward him
“what?”
“kiss.”
he says it with a flat, monotone delivery, but his gaze drops to your mouth, heavy and dark and you know that what he is thinking is anything but flat.
“you just—”
“kiss.”
and you do it again, because apparently that’s your life now.
you barge into his room, door wide open as you hold a paper above your head, the biggest grin on your face. sukuna doesn’t even blink at the thudding of his door against the wall.
“i did it! i passed the last interview for my internship!” you exclaimed, excitement and happiness dripping from your voice.
sukuna is already on his feet, arms open as he kisses you briefly, nose brushing as you bounce on your toes, unable to contain your joy.
“congratulations, baby. i knew you would kill it,” he says like it was obvious, a grin on his own on his face as his hands settle on your waist. “give me a hug.”
and you hug him, tight and full of enthusiasm while you ramble his ear off about the place you will be making your internship, how it would look on your resume and so on.
he just hums, face already nuzzling your hair, pressing a tiny peck on your hairline, arms holding you tight against him.
you’re both in his room, supposedly studying together but you are the only one actually trying to do work.
sukuna is…present. yeah. that’s about it.
you’re halfway through reading a paragraph when his foot nudges yours under the desk but you ultimately decide to ignore it. he nudges again, harder this time.
you keep reading, starting again because he distracted you from reading your notes when the chair beside you creaks as he shifts.
“…give me a hug.” his voice says that he is demanding rather than asking but you are too busy with the words in front of you to care.
you don’t look up, highlighting a sentence on your notebook. “i’m studying.”
“so am i.”
“you’re on your phone.”
“i’m studying you.”
you finally glance over, unimpressed, blinking slowly at the sight in front of you.
he’s already got one arm lifted expectantly, eyebrows raised like well?
you stare at him for three whole seconds before scooting your chair over so he can wrap himself around you from the side.
he hums satisfied, using your shoulder as a chin rest while he goes back to scrolling his phone and you just sigh, eyes going back to your notes, unconsciously leaning your head against his because you are just as needy of affection as him.
thirty seconds later—
“…kiss.”
you know there is no way back from this habit when he does it mid argument.
you’re mad. like—actually mad. so mad that sukuna actually shuts his smart mouth as he looks at you —arms crossed, pacing his room while he sits on the edge of the bed as you rant about something he definitely did.
“and another thing—”
“kiss.”
you freeze mid step, fingers twitching against your arms.
“…what?”
“kiss,” he says again, like it’s going to fix the fact that he forgot your anniversary dinner or ate the last of your snacks or whatever crime he committed this time. whatever.
“i’m literally yelling at you right now.”
he furrows his eyebrows. “and?”
“i’m mad at you, sukuna!”
he shrugs because what has that to do with him having a kiss? “…still. kiss.”
you stare at him in disbelief when he pats his thigh once, like he’s calling over a cat.
you hate that it works. you hate that you march over anyway. you hate that the second your lips touch his he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you closer.
and you hate even more that when you pull back, he looks smug.
“there,” he mumbles, pecking your lips once for good measure. “you feel better.”
“i don’t.”
“…hug?”
and definitely his favorite time to ask for a kiss is this.
his tongue is lapping at your folds, thoroughly gathering your sweet juices and spreading them along your slick pussy, suckling at your clit when he feels your thighs tremble around his head.
he looks at you from under his eyelashes, fingers playing with your nipples as your twitch below him. he knows you are near.
“kuna—please! i’m close.” you moan sweetly, head thrown back as you push him back to you, grinding against his face and he smirks, loving seeing you this needy.
he complies, pressing his tongue flat and starting to messily make out with your pussy, slurping, sucking and completely smitten with every sound you make.
when you come, he cleans you up until you are practically dry, kissing your thighs.
he looms over you, bracing his weight on his forearms, trapping you between his chest and the mattress and he looks down at you with that insufferable, heavy-lidded smirk, his thumb reaching out to trace your lower lip, dragging a bit of your own moisture across your skin.
“give me a kiss, baby,” he rumbles, his voice dropping into that low, scratchy register that vibrates straight through your chest. “taste yourself on me.”
“you’re obsessed with telling me what to do,” you whisper, though you’re already tilting your head back, your heart doing that familiar, frantic thrum against your ribs.
“yeah,” he mutters, leaning down until his nose brushes against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “and you’re compliant. now, kiss.”
and just like always, you find yourself reaching up, pulling his head down to close the gap, tasting the salt and the sweetness of yourself on his tongue as he hums into the kiss, sounding thoroughly, smugly satisfied.
What do you think about Yuuji being so engrossed in fucking you that he accidentally let Sukuna out?
🛞 FLIP THE SWITCH ✩ yuuji itadori ft ryomen sukuna .ᐟ
🏁 pit stop ! 𖦹 yuuji always maintains a good grip on his emotions. for his friends, for his old teachers, for you. he has to, in order to protect the ones he loves from sukuna. except for the one time he doesn’t. (3.1K)
🏁 safety car ! ⋆ not safe for work ⋆ smut ⋆ eighteen plus only. curses au, sorta canon compliant, characters in 20s, established relationship, dubcon, marking, cheating (kinda?), implied violence, rough sex, unprotected sex, jujutsu sorcerer yuuji itadori, sukuna & fem reader.
i feel like yuuji always does his best to make sure he’s in control around you. he’s pretty good at keeping sukuna in check usually, around his old teachers and his friends — but around you he works overtime. there’s a constant fear that the king of curses will jump out and maim you… it’s all sukuna really talks about. how he’s so excited to taste your flesh, pull you apart maybe even wreck that sweet hole of yours if yuuji lets him slip.
it’s why he keeps his emotions in check too. you never fuck angry, you never stay angry at one another in case sukuna sees a crack in your sweet boyfriend’s resolve and does his best to break free — trickling through the teeny tiny emotional wound before the two of you’ve had a chance to patch things up. sukuna’s always watching though, waiting — he almost knows your body as well as itadori does since he’s seeing the world through his eyes, anyway. you love being full, two fingers reaching for the back of your throat whilst two more play with the gooey mess lathered over your clit. sometimes, you like it soft and tender — on your back while the brat moves languid and slow as if he’s trying to carve his way into the depths of your body and live between each one of your ribs. he might as well enjoy the show.
sukuna’s memorised the way you moan when your flesh is tortured with teeth marks and bitten into. how you gush hot slick when your tummy is pressed down on and how pathetic you look when you stand on the very edge of ecstasy like a thrill seeker — ready to die for the love of it all. you get all teary eyed and helpless underneath itadori’s brute strength and ravaging thrusts. you’re so soft, sukuna aches for the day it’ll be his turn to ruin you and show you real sin. he’d be lying if the thought of you fearful and weak underneath him didn’t make his mouth water. with a pussy so pudgy and ripe for the taking, how could he not? you’re lucky the pink haired brat is so difficult to over turn.
regardless of sukuna watching or not — sex with yuuji is always so intense. his mind empties of all thought, except for you, zeroed in on your pleasure. the man pours enough passion into you until your cup overflows and tips over, spilling the secrets of his affections for you like that of wine. blood red like that which courses through his veins and heart that beats purely for you. even if it’s deep rooted and fuelled by emotion, yuuji keeps himself contained in fear of switching out. hurting you. showing you the face of someone he can’t bear to see in the mirror.
though it’s a little more difficult for him when the day has been rough and worn hard on the sorcerer. there’s bruises all over his body, hot to the touch and tender under your fingertips that claw their way into his skin and he’s tired. so, so tired, he feels that he might break into a thousand tiny pieces that only you can slot back together — knowing where each of them fit. the mission today was a bust, nobara with her nagging had pissed him all the way off and people… people died. he knows he can’t erase it, wash the blood from his hands and shower away the weight of improper deaths — but what he can do, is lose himself in the beauty of you.
soft and safe — supple skin running warm with heat radiating from your body, enough to thaw out itadori’s heart before it has a chance to turn cold and corrupted. he leans into you, hopes that you’ll bathe him in good and scrub the dirt of his crimes from underneath his fingernails. when he said he needed you, you didn’t hesitate to give up your body and your heart to soothe him — letting muscle and bone meld with your own like hot iron smelted down into something more viscous. like liquid lust.
yuuji has your ankles by his ears, sloppy open-mouthed kisses tracing the swell of your calf in a wordless declaration of love. thank you for being here. thank you for letting me use you. the position stretches your pudgy pussy over his thickness, widest as the base where the pink haired sorcerer bottoms out each time — caramel eyes sweet as molten sugar dart down to the slick space between your legs where you shimmer for him, around him, drooling all wet on his shaft that pumps in and out of you deeply.
his eyes gloss over, darkened, but hardly unsettling — it makes your belly swirl with butterflies, the delicious burn of his girth carvings way inside of you. the pulsating veins brush up against spots you can never seem to reach yourself and his bulbous cockhead pushes out copious amounts of precum along your cervix. marking you from the inside out. it hurts in the best of ways but you can see yuuji losing himself too much to memories outside of just you and him. the day that wreaked havoc on his joy turns his thrusts to a bullying pace and sends the headboard slamming into the wall behind the bed, who wails under every forceful swaying motion.
“god, y-yuuji…!” you yelp dreamily, a sharp buck of his hips sending you reeling. feeling as though his hardness is far enough inside you to lie between your lungs.
to bring him back to you, your trembling fingers reach out to touch itadori’s scarred face — your thumb brushing over the damp swell of his bottom lip and tracing the chapped skin there. smoothed over by his drooling. yuuji tilts his head away from where his nose is tucked against your calf, fluttering gaze finding yours before he switches gears pushing behind your knees with a rough palm so that they bend at his waist whilst he lies between them where you’re spread.
“i know baby, ‘m sorry, i know,” some semblance of the sorcerer that you love emerges from his hazy state, still gliding in and out of you with sloppy ease but this time — close and personal, back where he needs to be. yuuji presses a kiss to your temple, balmy when he gathers enough energy to speak. “fuck, you take it so well, even when ‘m being rough. makin’ me feel s-so good, baby.” he praises, heady need spreading through his limbs like an uncontrolled fire. you feel it too, doing your best to grind up into him and meet your boyfriend’s pace rather than run from it. he needs you today.
“mmnnn…fuck, yuu!” you gasp wantonly — back arching from the sheets coated in your sweat and other evidence of your tiny together. “f-fuck me, m-more! please!”
you plead wildly, but you’ve no idea what it is that you’re asking itadori for. he does what he can to soothe you, tongue dragging down the side of your face while his rough hands roam free. tweaking the sensitive peaks of your nipples, smoothing down your navel shortly after just to roll your clit from side to side between your sticky folds. he’s relentless, taking frustration out on you that he can’t seem to get out of his head. and you’re such a good girl because of it, cunt suctioning him down — obscene claggy noises echoing between your bodies and tangling with moans that hang in the balmy air.
“mhm, yeah? you just want me to take it all out on you,” itadori mumbles attentively, a groan so deep and debauched rumbling from the centre of his chest and right through you. the sound is soft, cushioned by sweet nothings and gentle praises written into your feverish skin but contrasts with the manner in which yuuji manhandles you — pulling you up by the backs of your knees off the bed, settling further into your cunt that strangles him so sweetly. “gonna cum for me, baby? can feel you getting so close. so goddamn warm and tight, fuck.”
his vocal tone, so far gone and dangerous causes your eyes to screw shut and your pussy to gush involuntarily like she has a mind of her own. your shaky arms weave their way around yuuji’s neck to anchor him to you whilst you nod along with his mindless, horny chatter. “y-yes, please…” impossibly, he presses himself closer as you cry and squeal, the knots winding and binding you to hold your orgasm back slowly beginning to unravel before you have a chance to register. sweat drips from his torso to yours, droplets running between the valley of your bouncing breasts.
he doesn’t say anything in response, gargling on his own gripes and groans — focused on pumping you full of everything he has to give, lining your ripe walls with an early release. with yours just over the horizon, yuuji bucks his hips faster and harder, just barely pulling himself from your snug sex. for a moment, the world stills, the only sounds bouncing off the walls and condensing against them being the souse slap of skin on skin in unequal rhythm — signifying the crescendo of your love making.
you leave tiger’s stripes down the length of his back with your nails, crescent moons at intervals because you need anchor yourself to the earth before he takes you to the heavens. in return, yuuji pants hungrily into your ear — jumbled promises of filling you up sliding over your brain like a dark veil. he’s just as close as you are, you can tell my every twitch and tick of his body against yours … but suddenly the vibe shifts into something more uncertain. almost frightening.
you feel him swell between the thighs, thicker than he was before — having to work extra hard to drive those inches into your ruined, sloppy mound. the higher octave of yuuji’s sweet molasses voice bubbles into something gruffer and sinister as he curses against your bare shoulder, pink hair tickling your neck for only a second. in the next, your boyfriend is lifting his chest from yours to grasp at the headboard — knuckles whitening from the grip on hard wood.
deft digits press into your pulsating flit, flicking it aggressively from side to side whilst you bow upwards and away from the damp linens sticking to your back. this isn’t like yuuju, to rough you up without notice — to make it spring as he folds you in half and plunge into your rippling walls with violent vigor. it’s only when a sharpened gallon spreads your slit wide on his devastatingly fat cock do you realise who and what is above you.
the king of curses, balls deep in your pussy that greedily locks around him like he’s yours.
everything about him is near identical to your loving, doting boyfriend. the one who protects you, makes love to you and cherishes your kisses like they’re made of wisps of sugar that’ll melt in water. now that sukuna’s taken over — brutish and bullying as he bulges within your stomach and spreads your legs wide enough to hit the strength of his hips. the weight of him crushes you delightfully, roughly smacking into you, pressing down on your lungs and heart. you know that at any moment — he could kill you and leave you a mess for itadori to clean up. so even though you should, you don’t hate it.
“s-sukuna—!” nonetheless, you whimper — vision blurred in bliss, every inch of your body and all four of your limbs trembling.
“you don’t look so happy to see me, human,” a cruel grin splits wide on familiar lips — the expression somehow sinister on the face of the man you love so much. sukuna leans in, the black ink lines of his tattoos settle, and crease in concentration as he ploughs you into the bed so hard it screams for him to stop. you feel him grind against your g-spot, tormenting the squishy patch over and over. your quivering hole spews waves of essence, bathing what’s inside and what doesn’t fit. much larger than your boyfriend — you hate to admit. “i’m here to finish the job that brat can’t. he’s too tired to make this hole wet like it’s supposed to be.”
in a frenzied and weak attempt, you shove hard at yuuji — sukuna’s solid his chest and even though, you like it so much, your hips try to squirm away but to no avail. the curse has you pinned against the bed by his taut abs mashing against your puffy pleasure nub. “p-please, d-don’t!”
“why not? because you’re scared you might be cheating on the brat?” sukuna leers down at you, predator on prey, and lifts you by the fat at your hips — pulling you back and forth on his erection as though you’re a rag doll. all you can do is moan whorishly, high and loud, because you’re overwhelmed at the weight of him brushing up against your sensitive spots. his cockhead ripe and raw red threatening to fill you with the cum broiling in his plump balls. they clap wetly against your ass the faster he moves. “he’s asleep, little human. he won’t ever know. just let me use this perfect cunt while i’m here. i’m tired of waiting around. let me show you how it’s done.”
you shake your head ‘no’ but everything else about you is screaming ‘yes!’. everything is so intense, harsher than tbh ever would be if it were your boyfriend. he’d never rough you up like this, wind that hot coil in your gut thrust after thrust. w-wait!” you cry lecherously, your body failing to fall in tune with the curse’s rampant rhythm. even though it’s bullying and harsh, it’s still coordinated enough to make you see stars. “oh god….”
the closer you get the more you succumb to the curse’s charm, falling under sukuna’s spell as he rocks you over the the length of him — your cream catches on the ridges that spiral down his cock. purple and blue veins pulsing with his own impending release, brought forth by yuuji earlier on. sukuna cages you in, chest to chest, your nipples brushing over his sturdy pecs and sweaty black markings before growling against your neck. his teeth brush over the skin, sharper than yuuji’s, but he doesn’t dare leave a mark — only taunting you with the possibility of ripping your throat out.
you keep him close, shaky fingers raking through the undercut he shares with your boyfriend and easing into soaked pink hair — you yank as hard as you can, though you’re sure he feels no pain in comparison to your puny assault.
“that’s right, pretty human. take it. use it. cum on it like the pretty cockhungry thing you are.” the loss of rhythm and control in sukuna’s lunging hips becomes too obvious to ignore, chasing his own high. like you’re nothing but a pocket pussy for the greedy curse to use after a millennia of sex starvation. you throb at the idea of cumming on him, for him — terrified by the guilt it may bring. though, you no longer fight the reckless sway of your hips up to meet his and you settle into his bruising grip — claws digging into the flesh at your hips.
your final straw is when the brutish curse lets his thick, saliva soaked tongue lave over your chest — curling around the underside of your boob to taste the perspiration that gathers there. you hiccup weakly at the sensation, throwing your head back into pillows saturated with your boyfriend’s scent whilst you scratch at sukuna’s scalp again. “‘m… fuck! ‘m cumming —!” you announce, convulsing as the words come out and your juices splash between your folds, smearing all over sukuna’s tummy.
he does nothing but snarl like he’s won something, dark eyes lighting up with mischiefs and reward. “that’s right, pretty human. cum for me like you couldn’t for that insolent brat,” sukuna follows suit, barely holding on behind you, lifting you high off the bed as his cum pours into you hotly. thick; potent as it lines the entrance to your womb. you suction around him, pulling what spills out back in and he makes it stick — just barely managing to tug himself from your selfish entrance only to slam it further into you.
when sukuna is done… there is no kiss to calm you down or praises against your ear to tell you how well you’ve taken him. instead, he draws back just enough to look at you — menacing yet magnificent. ruined by sex, yet pleased all the same. wearily, you blink up at him and blink away tears to avoid the shame unsure of what to expect or how frightened you should be…
sukuna surprises you, brushing back your sweaty hair drowsily — on the verge of collapse as your boyfriend resumes control.
“see you next time, little human.”
he says carefully, eyes rolling back into his skull against his will.
a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding makes its way out into the humid air. shaky because of his promise or his threat as he passes out on top of you.
you don’t know how long you lay there, boneless underneath the heat and weight of… what’s now yuuji. his markings long since faded. immense guilt gnaws at your nervous system and you’re afraid that if you talk, you’ll break yuuji itadori’s big heart. he softens inside you, wrapped in the warmth of your orgasm snd his thick cream — that came from him but spoke the claim of the ryomen sukuna. it feels nice, though foreign, you don’t dare admit that you might have liked the trade off.
“wh-what happened?” groans your boyfriend when he finally comes to, lifting a fluffy pink head full of hair from your heaving chest. “did you… did you finish already?”
“passed out when you came with me,” you giggle and brush back his bangs. a sugar coated lie to keep his precious heart safe. “it was perfect. you’re perfect.”
it’s a weak narrative that you device to spin, one that yuuji runs with — believes in because your slick is running down his shaft that glistens with milky white precum and smears lazily over plush folds. he peppers innocent kisses across your wet cheeks, the promise of cleaning you up later hidden behind them. the action makes you shiver, not just because of how loved you feel…but because of how much thrill seeking it is to have a sukuna watch you. make sure you play pretend just right.
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