what i said on my bio is a lie. i bought a new pair months ago.
~ about me
~ dni / byf / rules (the shows i write for)
~ masterlist
feel free to send me an ask for whatever reason <33
almost home
Keni

Love Begins
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

tannertan36
i don't do bad sauce passes
taylor price

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roma★

Janaina Medeiros
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
noise dept.

No title available
DEAR READER
sheepfilms
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Jules of Nature

★
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

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@romanticandupsetting
what i said on my bio is a lie. i bought a new pair months ago.
~ about me
~ dni / byf / rules (the shows i write for)
~ masterlist
feel free to send me an ask for whatever reason <33
courtesy of Lumi
Reconciliation
Synopsis: Gojo Satoru, your boyfriend, forgot your anniversary. So you did the only thing that made sense—break up with him. In the break-up package, came with also: a fever, and a car crash. Well, duh. Now you're staring at a seventeen-year-old boy who looks exactly like the man who broke your heart. Except this version of Satoru has a lot of questions…starting with why his future self is such an idiot. Well, you were dying to know the answer as well. Maybe you’ll get it when you find yourself back in the present on a hospital bed, staring back at the older and tear-stained Gojo.
Word count: 4.3k
Content: Heavy angst with a happy ending (cuz no one likes sad ones)
A/N: Very bad grammar and a little cursing
Also I lost motivation halfway so the second half turns out to be bad content as well I’m so sorry
Your exhaled breath turned into a wisp of white mist, lingering for just a second before fading back into nothingness.
Winter hit harder this year, you thought, as you sat huddled on the balcony of the penthouse, a mug of hot chocolate in your hands.
You had no idea what you were doing outside in weather like this. With all the snow falling, it was pretty clear you were going to catch a cold soon. It's not like you were wearing any clothes meant for cold weather anyway.
Shivering all over, you wondered if you were actually trying to catch one. Was that the point? Maybe that would stir his attention enough to make him come back. Or maybe not.
By "him," of course you were talking about your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru. The strongest sorcerer. Who…hadn't been home in a week.
No phone calls, no messages, not even a single word from Satoru for the past week. He always does that, saying that his missions made him too busy to even look at his phone, and you'd lived with it since you started dating him.
But knowing it and accepting it are two very different things.
Especially when it's your first anniversary.
You knew you were making a scene. This mission was no different from any other time he left without any warning beforehand, but you just couldn't take it anymore. You hated the loneliness, the feeling of being alone when you needed him. He was busy, there was no doubt about that, but you wanted to feel prioritized, not put in second place every single time. The very least he could do was to not fucking stand you up every single time he promised he would take you on a date.
Come to think of it, when was the last time you two actually went on a date that lasted for more than an hour without him running off to tend to emergencies anyway? Sometime in March, you thought.
And it was December now.
Were you being paranoid? Should you even feel this way?
You'd talked about this to Satoru before—or at least tried to.
He ended up shutting you up with his hands and mouth all over you.
You never even had the chance to bring the topic up again since then. Satoru was always so, so busy. Missions, schoolwork, his students, the higher-ups… everything kept him running around all the time. Sometimes you even wondered why he bothered to date you at all, a mere non-sorcerer who could see stronger curses but had no idea how to wield any cursed energy.
What made you special to him? Were you even special? If you weren't, why would he even date you? If you were, why did he put everything else before you?
Your hot chocolate had turned cold. Sighing, you shuffled back into the penthouse—Satoru's, to be exact—and went to clean yourself up.
Looking in the mirror, you found yourself staring at the reflection of a pretty girl. Eyes slightly red and puffy from some previous tears, nose pink from the cold, and hair ruffled, you still somehow managed to look good. Maybe that's what Satoru liked about you. Your pretty face.
You rubbed your face raw with a towel, groaning into the soft material.
***
Like you had anticipated, you spiked a fever in the middle of the night. Your head hurt so much you felt like it would explode at any moment. Mind woozy, you felt for your phone on the bedside table next to the empty king-sized bed.
I'm sick. Fever.
The message was sent, along with twenty other messages that Gojo had left you on unread.
In moments like this, you always hoped and hoped that he would magically appear in front of you, to tug you into his chest and kiss your forehead, whispering something soft into your hair. It never happened. Though he did disappear on you more than a few times to tend to his own matters.
You thought back to the day he asked you to be his girlfriend. He had knelt on one knee in front of you, a huge bunch of white lilies thicker than your torso held out to you, promising you everything in the world.
Turns out, when he said "everything," he meant everything. Except for his physical being. You never had to worry about money after dating him. Satoru was generous to a degree that you didn't even look at price tags anymore when you went shopping. But how could Satoru not know that what you wanted in the first place wasn't his money, but his whole damn presence?
You couldn't take it anymore. A single tear slid down your cheek as you stared down at your phone. You wiped it away with your hand. Your cheek—and your body—was burning hot with fever, your headache pounding so violently your ears were ringing. Crying only made it worse. You forced yourself to swallow down the lump in your throat, ignoring the protest of pain from your throat, and gathered your sheets. It was nearly midnight.
Sleep, you told yourself. Everything will be alright tomorrow.
***
You tried to sleep. You couldn't. You ended up crawling out of bed and heading downstairs to take medicine.
The cold water hit the back of your throat like a wall as you swallowed down the medicine. The night outside the huge windows had fallen to a dark purplish color laced with blue and a hint of stars. Pretty. You always liked the view from the penthouse.
Just as you were admiring the view, your phone buzzed. You nearly jumped out of your skin. Is he answering? Is he finally coming back?
Scrambling for your phone, you opened it as quickly as you could, your fingers fumbling with the buttons slightly.
It was only a message from Pinterest.
Your excitement quickly dissipated, the feeling of disappointment burning through you. What were you expecting anyway?
You'd had enough of this. Maybe it was because of the fever messing with your brain, or maybe it was because of your own tiredness.
Maybe both.
But you opened the chat box between you and Gojo again.
Let's break up. I can't take this anymore.
Ears still ringing slightly and your headache pounding, you turned your phone off. It was clear that Satoru wasn't coming back anytime soon. You decided to go back to bed—the medicine was kicking in—and deal with all of this tomorrow when you felt better.
***
Woken up groggily by the sound of your phone ringing, you picked it up without even looking at who was calling.
"Hello?”
"You're breaking up with me? Over the damn phone?"
Satoru's slightly incredulous and overdramatic voice had you springing up in bed. You winced slightly as your head protested strongly by pounding into your skull. You sighed inwardly. Having to deal with this breakup shit at eight in the morning (although you did cause this) was not how you wanted the day to go.
You didn't say anything. Satoru sighed into the mic, loud enough for you to hear it. "Baby, of course I remember our anniversary. But the mission was a special-grade curse. Who else could handle it besides me? Yuta’s still in Africa."
"..."
"I didn't reply to your messages because I was too busy. You know how everything gets."
He said everything with that drawling tone he always used when you accused him of ignoring you. You could already imagine him with that stupid smirk on his face as he said this, looking like he didn't even give a shit. It was like this every single damn time. You hated this particular thing about him oh so much.
It wasn't like you wanted a lot from him. Satoru would only have to tell you he loved you, and maybe give you a cuddle when he finally came back. You would go back to him with open arms.
But… well, he was busy. It wasn't like he wanted to exorcise curses instead of being with his own girlfriend. You were still trying to reason with yourself. It's fine.
You were about to tell him those exact two words when—
"Baby, don't be dramatic. I'll be back tonight, alright?"
To hell with the Strongest. To hell with Gojo Satoru, who made you want to reach across the phone line and slap that fucking smug little grin off his handsome face.
You gritted your teeth, your fingers clenching so tightly that your nails dug tiny crescents into your palm.
"I won't be here tonight. Nor any night afterwards." You said through your teeth, and hung up.
Only then did you allow yourself to cry. Tears spilled out like pearls off a broken necklace, splattering all over the sheets as you sobbed into the pillow. You couldn't even breathe. The lump in your already sore throat only grew bigger, so swollen you were choking on your own lungs.
The day passed with you in bed, not even having the energy to get out and leave. Just you, crying yourself to sleep, waking up, and falling asleep again. Your phone lay right beside you, with not even a message or a call from your boyfriend— or ex-boyfriend now.
It was dusk when you finally urged yourself to get out of bed. Dizzy with a headache, you packed a few of your own things and left the penthouse, not even bothering to change out of your pajamas.
***
Maybe it was exactly because of the spiking fever and grogginess that led to this, but you never thought that you, a girl who had always followed the traffic lights, would step onto the road while the red light was still flickering—
And get hit by a car.
The sirens were so loud you could imagine your eardrums bursting. You lay in a pool of stickiness, which was probably your own blood, your eyes glassy as you looked upward.
So this is what dying feels like. Weird. You thought, as the orange-gray sky blurred into something whitish.
***
What the heck was going on in Hell? Why did they have button-pressing sounds and shitty background music blaring at full blast? You groaned inwardly, your eyes still closed.
The music stopped suddenly, followed by the sound of a game console clattering onto the ground.
"Who the fuck are you?"
Well, to Gojo’s defense, anyone would be freaked out if someone suddenly came into existence right in their arms. Not even his Six Eyes could tell where the hell you came from. Was this some kind of joke Suguru made? Or was it someone who wanted to kill him? Gojo stood up abruptly, his arms held up. Gravity did its thing and you landed on the ground with an unceremonious thump.
"Ow!" you yelled, reaching a hand back to massage your sore back. Rubbing your eyes for a second and letting them adjust to the bright sunlight leaking into the bedroom, your gaze landed on the white-haired teenager in the room. Damn it. Why is he still here in Hell? Are all Hells personalized for everyone to torture them?
Wait a minute. Why was he wearing those stupid round sunglasses? You had a vague impression of him in those from the photos he took with his friends when he was still a student at Jujutsu High. So you weren't in Hell?
"Um, hello? If you're not answering, then say goodbye to your life!"
Gojo was already forming hand signs as he looked at you with wide eyes.
You had no idea if he was as strong as he was when he was older, but you weren't about to test this. Quickly, you held your hands up above your head. "I'm so sorry," you said hastily. "I have no idea what's going on either. I don't think even science could explain this."
"Rubbish. If this could be explained, I wouldn't be asking you."
"…I think I'm from the future?" you said, cringing a little at how bizarre this sounded.
"Huh?" Gojo was about to finish his hand sign that created the huge blue orb of light you'd seen him do before that blew up half of a twenty-story building.
Oh shit. This was not going well for you.
"You like sweet stuff! Uhhh, you're in high school now so you're still trying to figure out how to do that reversed cursed technique thingy you told me about, and you love irritating Utahime. You're best friends with Suguru Geto and Shoko Ieiri!" You blabbered out everything you knew about the younger Gojo Satoru.
The white-haired teenager narrowed his eyes. "If you're here to kill me, my information is pretty well-known to every sorcerer."
…But if you told him everything, he would know who you were to him exactly.
"Speak up, or do you have a death wish? Any last words?"
Okay, maybe your life was more important than who you were to him—
"Y-Your dick is 9 inches—" you said desperately, closing your eyes and praying that whoever (or whatever) sent you here would keep you from being blasted into smithereens.
"…? Hey—wait a damn second—"
Now Gojo was the one who had frozen on the spot, his ears tinged with scarlet and his face flushed, one of his hands pinching the bridge of his nose as he averted his gaze (finally) from you.
"W-Why would anyone use that information to prove they're from the future?!"
"What else am I supposed to use?" you deadpanned. "Everyone knows all the general stuff. Do you still not believe me? Gojo Satoru, do you really want me to describe the mole on the left side of your—"
"I BELIEVE YOU! I believe you, alright? S-Shut up!"
You opened one eye just enough to see Gojo reduced to a blushing mess, white hair flying a little as he ran a hand through it and his sunglasses sliding slightly off his nose. You exhaled a long-held breath as you put your hands down. Looks like you were safe now.
***
You had been at the mercy of the strongest Six Eye sorcerer in centuries.
Now the said sorcerer sat on his bed, with you opposite him, looking at you curiously with that familiar smirk you'd seen on the older Satoru's face.
"Are you my girlfriend? I can't imagine anyone else who would know my… well, you know. Size," he said, tilting his head and blue eyes glinting beneath his glasses. "Wow. If you hadn’t crash-landed out of nowhere, I'd fall in love with you at first sight. I have a pretty girlfriend in the future! At least that's something to look forward to. How old am I when I date you?"
Your brows furrowed slightly when you heard the word "girlfriend" and you quickly shut Gojo up by putting your forefinger on his glossy lips. Gojo flushed at the slight touch.
Huh. No Infinity.
"You're twenty-eight," you said, "and sorry to break it to you, but unfortunately, I'm your ex-girlfriend. As of yesterday. But that still counts as your ex."
"Ex-girlfriend?" He sat up straighter, observing you carefully. "You're healthy and glowing. I must have treated you well. So… why did we break up? I wouldn't have dated you if I didn't love you or wanted a future with you.”
He paused a second. Seeing that you weren’t about to talk, he continued, “So. Um, what did the future me do?"
The irony of a seventeen-year-old teenager comforting you about something the older him did made you want to giggle. At least Satoru loves you. Well, loved. You wondered how he would feel if you yelled a bit as you stared at your ex-boyfriend’s younger face. Though, it seemed very unfair to take it all out on a teenager who did nothing wrong. You sighed, looking down and playing with your fingers.
"Well… we fought. There was yelling."
We didn't fight. It was a one-sided thing where I acted crazy like I should have been carted off to the hospital while you didn't give a shit.
"That’s it? Just yelling? And we broke up? Just like that?" Gojo seemed incredulous at his future self, his sunglasses slipping again slightly as he looked at you. "Was I not treating you well?"
You hummed in agreement but didn't say anything else.
Gojo's eyes widened.
"Well… not exactly. It was just me thinking you never had time for me because you’re always busy with work…"
"So that means I'm really strong when I'm older, right? Even though I'm already very strong now," he said, a smug smile on full display on his face.
Despite everything, the corners of your lips tugged up involuntarily.
"Yeah… Everyone knows you as the Strongest. You’re always on special-graded missions."
"Hah? Do I still answer to other people?"
Do higher-ups even count as people? you thought.
"Well…" you decided to beautify it a little for the younger Gojo. For the sake of his mental self, "you're working really hard for world peace!"
"Pshht, bullshit."
…Well, fair enough. But at least you tried.
"You can exorcise a special-grade curse easily! Everyone loves you. You became a teacher back at Jujutsu Tech and taught a lot of great students. Oh, and one of them was so talented he also became special-grade in his first year! Umm…you know everything. You can cook, and you love eating sweet food all across Japan! You have so many missions because you're so strong!"
Gojo's eyes were shining at first. You only stole a quick glance at him before looking back down at your own fingers, missing the questions forming in his eyes and the tiny crease between his brows.
You were counting off all his specialties off your fingers, rambling on now, trying to think of something he wasn't good at and, of course, failing. He should be the perfect boyfriend. Should. Shit. You felt a familiar burn hitting the back of your eyes.
"What about you?"
Gojo's voice cut through your ongoing list of how good he was in the future.
"I don't care about all that. What I do to other people or how other people are doing in the future doesn’t mean anything to me. What about you? You're only talking about me. But how was I to you?"
And there goes the last straw. As you finally looked up into the same shade of blue eyes staring at you with concern, tears bubbled out of you nonstop. Gojo gave a subtle squeak of concern and scrambled to look for tissues. Clumsily, he wiped away the tears from your eyes, the salty drops seeping through the tissue and the gaps between his fingers.
"W-Why are you crying?! Shit. Am I really a that much of a jerk in the future?"
"Y-You are a t-total—hic—jerk. N-No phone calls, no texts, ever! Every single time you're on a mission… I f-feel like I'm dating a—hic—dead person! You always p-put me in second place… below everything…"
"I'm sorry—I'm so sorry—"
"A-And when I b-broke up with you, you didn't even try to stop me!"
Gojo looked genuinely distressed. "I'm that bad? T-Then when you get back to the future, give him a good slap across the face! The future me isn't enough of a jerk to slap back, right? Please stop just crying—"
Tears flooded down your face through sobs and hiccups, with no sign of stopping, leaving Gojo scrambling for more tissues while muttering what seemed like curses at his future self under his breath, trying desperately to soothe you at the same time.
Gojo had already passed the state where he had completely thrown out all his usual smugness and ego, agreeing to whatever you were saying about how the future him was a total asshole as you cursed him through your tears.
You missed Satoru so much.
God, you were pathetic.
"No, no, no, of course you're not," Gojo looked like he was on the verge of tears himself as he tried to comfort you, hands flying everywhere, not even knowing whether he could touch you or not. Clumsily, he settled the tips of his fingers on your shoulder lightly.
Did you say that out loud?
Gojo was looking at you with panic clear in his blue eyes, his sunglasses nowhere to be seen as he frantically wiped away your nonstop tears and mumbled soothing words.
Looking at the familiar face of your boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend—you never wanted to go back to your own world more than now.
The world suddenly flickered. Pulled by something invisible, you felt your body being sucked into darkness, Gojo shouting something as he tried to reach you.
***
When you woke up again, you found yourself locked in a pair of strong arms. They were hugging you so tightly you felt like your ribs were cracking. You tried to move, but your fingers only gave a feeble twitch. Somewhere to your left, a heart monitor flickered to life, warmth flowing back into the tips of your fingers. Looking up, you found yourself staring into the blue eyes of Satoru—the older one. His blue irises were trembling slightly as he stared into your eyes, his face wet with tears and his white hair messy. He looked absolutely wrecked. You thought he cursed before saying—
"—I was one second away from jumping off the hospital building with you in my arms so we could die together."
***
Satoru was still talking nonstop as he carefully fed you a spoonful of hospital food. It wasn't great, but it wasn't that bad either.
"I'll bring you real food when we get back home, alright? I'm not letting you out of my sight again."
Satoru paused for a split second, then continued. "You know, I had the most bizarre dream about you when I was asleep beside you on the hospital chair. It was back when I was in Jujutsu High, when you suddenly dropped into my arms."
Okay. You take back what you thought. The hospital food was shitty. You pouted, angling your head away from the spoon after one bite. Satoru only smiled slightly and kissed your forehead. He reached for an orange that came with the tray instead and started to peel it for you.
"You were praising me nonstop, ya know? It was cute. You don’t do that enough in real life," Satoru said, carefully working the knife through the skin of the orange.
"But you were crying the entire time… and I realized that… you never talked about how you were present in my life. It was all about me."
Satoru fed you a piece of orange. You chewed on it, savoring the sweetness of the juice as it exploded in your mouth. He wiped his hand on a clean piece of tissue nearby—wait, you'd barely even eaten anything!
Taking your small hands in his big ones, he rested his head lightly on them, looking at you, his white lashes fluttering slightly and casting a shadow on his face. His blue irises were bright and soft as they settled on yours, as if you were the only light in his life.
"Please forgive me, baby. I'm so sorry for all those stupid mistakes I made. I promise that I'll always put you first, above anything else. I'll take you on dates every weekend. I love you so much I'd literally kill myself to be with you in the afterlife. But the shitty world of jujutsu couldn't run properly without the Strongest. So, for the sake of world peace, please, please stay by my side forever and ever?"
What you had ever wanted was exactly that. To hear Satoru say that he loved you. You sniffled slightly as you nodded your head, careful not to use too much strength since it hurt so much.
EEK, why was he hugging you so tightly again—
You couldn't even breathe properly—
***
Satoru kept his promise. He took you out wherever you wanted once a week, and when he was busy, he would always take you out twice the next week to make up for the week he missed. He'd tell Ijichi to message you when he was on a mission, and sometimes leave a note on the fridge too. Everything was going well.
***
Satoru's phone buzzed on the bedside table. You looked down at the noise, then back at the bathroom door, where the man was still in the shower. Curiosity got the better of you as you unplugged it from its charger to check the notification.
Password? You typed in your birthday. The phone unlocked with a simple swipe.
The message was from Reddit. Your boyfriend had posted something on your anniversary day?
My girlfriend broke up with me but I was too busy to call her back, is there still a chance I could win her back? [🥺]
You huffed out a laugh as you scrolled down to see the comments.
Some people had actually given pretty good advice.
Grovel on your knees with a huge bunch of flowers and promise her whatever she wants. Most useful skill I've learned in my life. You're welcome ;)
Cook her a huge breakfast and take her on a holiday. Malaysia's very nice.
There was one that caught your eye.
Bro, just get a new girl. There's plenty of fish in the sea.
Satoru had replied:
The sea is polluted and so are the other fish. I only want my fish! :(
You giggled, putting down the phone.
Typical Satoru.
Side note from Vivi: I think I’m finally getting the hang of Tumblr lmao
I’m open to all suggestions! Thank you for reading! <3
rinnekun we're gonna be homeless
୨୧ — The chat doesn't even register to him, because Sukuna doesn't stream for them.
He streams because he likes watching you squirm knowing thousands of strangers can see exactly what he's doing to you- and there's nothing your drool drunk brain can do about it.
"Pathetic," he rumbles, and the word vibrates through his chest where your back is pinned against him, "can't even keep your mouth shut without help."
The ball gag stretches your jaw wide- cute and pink and utterly humiliating, a mocking splash of color against the mess you've become. Drool pools behind your teeth, spills over the silicone sphere in thick, glistening strands that drip down your chin, your throat, between your tits where the nipple clamps bite into swollen flesh.
He tugs the chain connecting them. Lazily. Just to watch you jerk.
"Mmmngh-!!"
"Quiet." Another tug, harder. Your nipples stretch obscenely, flushed angry red beneath the metal teeth, "you wanted this. Begged me for it, remember? Wanted to be my little toy."
Tch. And she's already crying. Weak.
The camera's positioned at the foot of the bed, angled up to catch everything... your spread thighs, your trembling body, and Sukuna behind you like a throne of muscle and malice. His hands dwarf your hips, and fuck... His cock -thick, veined, fucking monstrous- rests against your slit, smearing precum into your already ruined folds.
He doesn't fuck you. Not yet at least.
First, he spreads you open.
Two fingers hook into your cunt and pull- slow, deliberate... stretching you wide while the webcam captures every glistening detail. The dewy folds of your pussy part for him, slick strands of arousal glinting under the harsh light, snapping in sticky threads as he spreads you wider and wider. Your hole clenches on nothing, gummy walls fluttering, pink and puffy and dripping.
"Look at this mess." His voice drips contempt as he angles the camera with his other hand, zooming in on the way your pussy weeps for him.
You whimper around the gag, hips twitching involuntarily toward his cock.
His laugh is low. Cruel.
"Fine. Since you're so desperate."
He teases his tip against your entrance and the camera catches it- the exact way your gummy walls clench around that fat cockhead when he nudges in, stretching to accommodate his girth, that first inch sinking into wet, sucking heat. Your muffled wail vibrates against the silicone.
Then he punches into your guts, forcing a choked "MMMNGH-!!" from your throat.
One brutal thrust buries him to the hilt, and your vision whites out. His cock punches so deep you swear he's rearranges your insides- and when he presses a palm against your lower belly, you can see it-
"There." He grinds up against your cervix, watching the shape of his cock distort your tummy, "That's where I'm going to break my girl."
He doesn't give you time to adjust.
His pace is punishing- hips pistoning with savage force, that fat cock battering your cervix over and over until your insides go soft. Mushy. Ruined. Each thrust punches a muffled sob from your gagged mouth, drool splattering against your tits, making the clamp chain slick and shiny.
"Hnnngh-! Mm-! MMMPH-!!!!"
"What's that? Can't understand you." He tugs the chain again, hard, and your back arches as your nipples scream, "Use your words, little whore. Oh wait- you can't!"
Fuck. She's clenching so hard. Trying to milk me already.
The wet sounds are filthy. Your pussy squelches around his cock with every thrust- arousal churning to cream, whipping into a thick white froth that clings to his shaft and oozes around the stretched rim of your hole. It drools down his balls, down to the sheets, making a mess of everything.
"Look at that." He angles the camera lower, making sure it catches the creamy ring forming at the base of his cock, "Making such a mess. Like a bitch in heat."
He grinds against your battered cervix, and you keen- the sound strangled behind the gag, drool bubbling from the corners of your mouth.
"You gonna cum?" His thumb finds your clit, rubbing cruel circle, "gonna cream on my cock like the desperate little fucktoy you are?"
You nod frantically, tears streaming, drool pooling, nipples throbbing.
"Then do it. Show them what a pathetic slut you are for me."
He rams into your cervix and holds-
And you shatter. Completely.
Your orgasm rips through you in a blinding wave, walls clamping down so hard he grunts, your whole body seizing as your cunt creams around him in thick, milky spurts. He fucks you through it without mercy, churning your release, coating his cock, dripping down to the ruined sheets.
"Mmmngh-! Mm-! HNNGH-!"
"Good girl." The words are mocking. Empty. And then he's pulling you into a kiss by the chain, your overstimulated nipples stretching... "Again." he whispers.
The view count ticks past fifty thousand.
Sukuna doesn't even glance at it.
His hips slow. Still buried inside you, cock throbbing against your battered cervix, but the brutal rhythm eases into something different. Deeper. Rolling.
"Fuck-" His composure cracks, just barely. "That's my girl." his hand leaves the clamp chain, past the mess of drool on your chest- and cups your jaw. Gentle. Almost reverent. His thumb swiping through the spit pooling at the corner of the gag, and for one impossible moment, he just... holds you.
The view count ticks past Fifty five thousand.
Sukuna still doesn't glance at it.
Sukuna streams because he likes watching you squirm knowing thousands of strangers can see exactly what he's doing to you-and there's nothing your drool drunk brain can do about it.
southbound | kaminari, d.
ꉂ ᵎᵎ cw/tw: 18+, suggestive (?) (idk if that’s the word for it), dubcon elements (both are drunk but denki has better tolerance) dom!sleazy!piercings!tats!denki, sub!ditzy!drunk!fem!afab!reader, reader has two earrings and nothing else, reader has no tattoos, reader is a good amount shorter than denki, light groping, the whispers of corruption kink stirring, the hinting at a dick piercing, themes of possessiveness, vaping, alcohol, didn’t proofread bc i went to go to sleep
ꉂ ᵎᵎ a/n: this is a reblog from my old account. the fic title is named after the song by aretmas because it’s fitting and i like it.
ꉂ ᵎᵎ synopsis: discussing and counting the tattoos and piercings of the guy you’d been talking to all night at a party.
ꉂ ᵎᵎ w/c: ~1k
“which hurt more? your tattoos or your piercings?”
“definitely the tattoos,” denki laughs, eyes tracing lazily along the curves of your body. he liked girls like you— the ones that got a little giggly, touchy— dumb when they got drunk. it gave him a high unlike any other and was probably one of his favorite things these sorts of parties tended to produce. “why? you wanna see some?”
“could i?” you ask, anticipation sparkling in your eye.
he smiles, the sight warm and inviting. “of course.”
carefully balancing his red solo cup and geek bar in his free hand, he rolls up his long sleeve, fully revealing the design that had peeked out from his wrist and trailed all the way up to his shoulder. your fingers gingerly reach out to drift along the ink, the warmth of his skin beneath seeping into you, stoking the pooling heat in your core.
you look up at him through your lashes, giving him a wondering smile. “and your other arm is covered too?”
“yep,” he answers easily, leaning back against the kitchen counter as he tugs his sleeve back down. “and then i have one on my upper back and then two on my ribs.”
“so,” you blink, trying to do the mental math, “you have four tattoos?”
a chuckle escapes him at your miscount. “five, sweetheart.”
“oh,” you murmur, eyes half-lidded as he hands you his drink, encouraging you to steal another sip, a pattern you two had somehow fallen into over the course of the night. “do you want more?”
# CASANOVA
I KNOW YOU WANT ME, SO WHY WON’T YOU ACT LIKE IT ?
sum: when you reject fratjo because of his playboy reputation, can his frat brothers—and real brother—help him win you over & prove he’s not a player ?
cast: fratjo (‘sato’ gojo) ◞ nerdjo (‘toru’ gojo) + frat! jjk men (‘sigma-chi’) : geto ◞ toji ◞ sukuna ◞ nanami 𓏲 gallery here !
NICE GUY TACTICS #1: STOP TALKING, START LISTENING !
taught by: nanami kento
“maybe if you listened to y/n as much as you spoke, she’d finally give you a chance.”
ΣX
at a desk behind a bookcase somewhere in birge-carnegie library, nanami kento has a book in his hands & sato gojo’s voice in his ears.
“—rich, handsome, charismatic, compassionate,” sato counts the words on his fingers. “i’m all these things and y/n still rejected me! can you believe it, kenny?”
nanami kento does not give a fuck.
4PM thursday means a box of timbits & the latest volume of nanami’s new favorite BL manhwa. he’s trying to root for cirrus as he pursues his love interest, skylar, but sato gojo’s whining in his ears makes concentrating very, very difficult. nanami snaps his book shut.
“first of all, can you please sit like a child of God?”
across from him, sato gojo is all loose limbs & no decorum; legs open & spread over the mahogany table as he leans back just enough to rock in the wooden chair. he has his arms folded behind his head but when kento snaps, he sits up. his lips are tugged in a stubborn, trying-to-be-cute frown:
“kento,” sato pouts. “help me.”
nanami kento drags a palm over his face. his collar feels tight on his neck & his fingers twitch over his book but sato has his lips pouting & lashes fluttering across from him. if helping out means sato will leave him alone to focus on reading lost in the cloud, who is he to refuse?
RULE #1: TALK LESS, LISTEN MORE !
sato gojo finds you somewhere on the second floor.
rumor has it!
synopsis: someone posted you both on your college's anonymous app, yikyak? wonder how they feel about that...
featuring: collegeau!izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugou, and denki kaminari
warnings: nothing crazy! just crack and a lil suggestive. still prefer that mdni. painfully in char bakugou. deku is interestingly, in a situationship? denki is denki
masterlist | next
you are on: part 1!
a/n: omf first smau... 🥹 i've become what i semi despise (jk) LMAOO they sucked me in. and it's my mha debut. hello not so niche community! yes the trailer seeped into my brain what do u expect from me. part 2 with others if You The People™️ decide it's worthy lawl!!
canonically this started a cold war btw u and bakugou but makeup makeouts go crazy amirite
peace luv bathtub!
buy me a drink :)
reblogs are highly appreciated ♡
© sozila 2026, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other mediums or sites. cross-posted on ao3 and tumblr under same alias.
★ what happens in vegas.
pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader
synopsis: the thing is, gojo satoru has no intention of marrying someone his clan elders pick for him. there’s a simple solution, of course! why get married to a stranger when you can whisk your best friend away to las vegas for a weekend and elope?
tags: fluff, smut (oral sex, fingering, riding, unprotected sex, one orgasm denial), mild angst, best friends to lovers, vegas wedding!au. idiots to idiots in love, profanity, alcohol consumption, discussions of arranged marriage, attempts at humour, crack taken seriously, mutual pining.
word count: 7.1k
a/n: the art in the header is by m00__ry on instagram & the fic title is from the 2008 movie of the same name. thank you to @saezzi for beta reading!
WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS, ITEM #1 – ARSON.
For the record, none of this is your fault.
It’s all Satoru’s fault, and you’re pinning all of this solely on him because he gets on your nerves and he’s also a liar. A compulsive liar with no concept of shame or mortification or guilt, because the whole world revolves around his thick head and you, unfortunately, are no exception to this rule. It was a nasty trick, really, coercing you into going on vacation with him.
★ what happens in vegas.
pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader
synopsis: the thing is, gojo satoru has no intention of marrying someone his clan elders pick for him. there’s a simple solution, of course! why get married to a stranger when you can whisk your best friend away to las vegas for a weekend and elope?
tags: fluff, smut (oral sex, fingering, riding, unprotected sex, one orgasm denial), mild angst, best friends to lovers, vegas wedding!au. idiots to idiots in love, profanity, alcohol consumption, discussions of arranged marriage, attempts at humour, crack taken seriously, mutual pining.
word count: 7.1k
a/n: the art in the header is by m00__ry on instagram & the fic title is from the 2008 movie of the same name. thank you to @saezzi for beta reading!
WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS, ITEM #1 – ARSON.
For the record, none of this is your fault.
It’s all Satoru’s fault, and you’re pinning all of this solely on him because he gets on your nerves and he’s also a liar. A compulsive liar with no concept of shame or mortification or guilt, because the whole world revolves around his thick head and you, unfortunately, are no exception to this rule. It was a nasty trick, really, coercing you into going on vacation with him.
⊹₊˚‧ ୨ asking mha boys stupid questions PART 2 ୧ ‧˚₊⊹ ⟢ various x partner!reader, smau! ⟢ fluff/crack ⟢ masterlist ⟢ read part 1 here! ⟢ a/n: omg thank u guys sm for the love on the first one??? im glad u enjoyed it that was actually wild 😭😭 also pls feel free to request other characters you'd want to see!!
Texts with best friends izuku and katsuki !
pt 3! pt 2! pt 1!
an: heh lwk disappeared again but chat ive been visiting a friend for the past 3 weeks and ive been so stressed and literally could not think of what to write but im locking in for you guys 🧘♀️
notes: f! reader, bkdk, use of senpai, mommy and kitten as a joke, more friend like banter
Texts with your best friends izuku and katsuki
pt 2! pt 1!
notes: f! reader, a little more of katsuki in this one, tweets, swearing, undercover flirting!!
FATHER DEAREST—AIZAWA SHOTA ೃ࿔ 𖹭.ᐟ
SYNOPSIS: Texts with your tired, maybe defective dad—whether it be adoptive or not, Shota Aizawa!
INCLUDES: smau, crack, random drabbles/ideas, father-child relationship, NON-romantic relationship, ect.
꒷︶꒷꒥꒷︶˚.꒷꒥꒷︶꒷꒷︶꒷꒥꒷︶˚.꒷꒥꒷︶꒷꒷︶꒷꒷︶꒷
꒷︶꒷꒥꒷︶˚.꒷꒥꒷︶꒷꒷︶꒷꒥꒷︶˚.꒷꒥꒷︶꒷꒷︶꒷꒷︶꒷
©ih3artdutchm1ll — all rights reserved to me, do not copy, plagiarize or steal my work, do not translate or post my work on other platforms and please do not copy my ideas without permission.
ᴛᴡᴇᴇᴛꜱ ʙʏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏᴜ
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
kirishima with a very mean gf (smau)
cw: subby!kiri if you squint, cursing, pet names, kiri is head over heels brah
a/n: first work/smau!! hope you like it!
dividers; @pixopix