𐙚 plug!choso who craves you when he has the munchies.
“you brush your teeth?” you look down at the faded man, long hair sprawled out on the pillow. “yes- yes. cmon..put it on me please.” his beautiful eyes clouded from how high he was and how hungry he seemed to be.
“m’just making sure Cho.” 𐙚 plug!choso knew better than to eat your pussy with smoke on his tongue. he treated you like a princess, and he’d never let his princess get such lowly treatment. That went for the both of you: yourself and that pretty pearl between your legs.
“yes yes yes- fuck mmph..” he whined, piercing tongue instantly licking the sweetness between your legs. You gasp, your hands finding the headboard to steady yourself. 𐙚 plug!choso’s hands found their way around your thighs, pulling you down more to actually sit. He never got tired of eating your pussy, his favorite meal. “right there baby…good boy that’s it.” your hips find a steady rhythm to rock to. the ball of his piercing flicks against your clit. “m’fuck princess-“ 𐙚 plug!choso felt himself twitch in his pants.
He knew he had to be patient, though. You granted him enough grace to ride his face when high. “That’s it..” Soft moans escape past your lips, your head leaning back as your grip on the headrest tightened. Because something you didn’t do, was have sex with 𐙚 plug!choso while he was high.“If you make me cum I’ll ride you next, Cho.” You bit your lip, smug smirk on your face.
He lets out a cry, hands gripping your thighs tighter, tongue flicking against your sensitive bud faster. Dick twitching in his sweatpants, 𐙚 plug!choso started to think about you. How well you took him in everytime you had sex. How good and warm you felt around his big dick. How you called him a good boy when he did anything you told him to do. He fucked you just how you wanted, everytime. “M’gonna make you cum princess.” Wet dripping down his chin, he lost himself in you, Nose buried deep into your pussy, tongue slipping into your hole.
“M-mmm you’re talking with your mouth full Cho.” You moan at the whine he lets out, you could hear the muffled “sorry princess” from him afterwards.
situationship fratkuna tells his friends how you're always so needy for his attention. . . but you know better & now so does he ❤︎
pleading, offering nights of hot sex, and grovelling at your feet is a new low. even for sukuna.
but you're reeeal petty.
"baby, y'know i wasn't— fuck, I wasn't bein' serious. . ."
sukuna groans, deep in chest, dragging his lips up to your shin then to your knee until he finally settles his cheek against the soft skin of your thigh. he nuzzles his nose into you, inhaling your scent like an addict.
if any of his frat brothers see where he is now, on his knees with his fingers wrapped loosely around your ankles to keep you from pushing him away, he'd never hear the end of it.
"you think i'm too clingy, kuna?"
the question sounds innocent enough, however, with the way you're peering down at him from the edge of your bed in nothing but a bra and some little lace panties is anything but innocent.
"nah, baby, course not." sukuna's palms glide down the backs of your calves, massaging the muscles coaxingly.
your foot nudges his chubbing thickness in his boxers and he pants hotly, sinking his blunt nails into the backs of your calves almost pathetically.
and he was the one calling you clingy?
sukuna swallows thickly, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he forces the words from his lips.
that’s exactly how long it’d been since you’d left sukuna. and it was driving him up a wall. from getting your name tattooed on his chest minutes before he went on live television to box, begging on his knees until you finally let him in your apartment.
he had no shame, and of course, without you, ryomen sukuna had nothing to lose.
you’d finally relented—letting him into your apartment, which was now bare, stripped of his existence in the months he’d been gone.
“feels a little empty, no?” he says, walking up behind you, placing his head on your shoulder with a pout on his lips while staring you down.
“what do you want, sukuna.”
“you're so mean to me. cmon, doll throw me a bone here.”
“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you grimaced, walking away from him while he insisted on following you around your own place like a lost puppy.
you seated yourself on your couch, hoping the cushions would swallow you whole before he stood right before you, slowly dropping to his knees, resting his chin on your knees—trying to make all six feet of him look like a harmless, soggy dog.
“speak. what do you want this time?”
“can’t a man miss his ex?”
“not you, no.” you spat out all the while sukuna placed soft kisses on your legs, slowly pushing your plush thighs apart, trying to get closer to your cunt, his lips inching towards your core—right before you grabbed his hair.
“if you displease me i’m kicking you out, watch it.”
“you’ve had me pleading between your legs enough times to know that i won’t disappoint.”
“then get to it.”
“yes ma’am—.” is all he got out before you let go of his hair, grabbing at your thighs while he was kneeled over, pressing kisses to your clothed cunt, licking a loong stripe on your panties while he looked up at you through his lashes.
he tugged your panties to the side, practically making out with your poor pussy now, groaning into you as if you were the first meal he’d had in months—he was filthy, his drool and your slick pooling down his chin while he worked his mouth on you, sucking on your clit, while you slowly rolled your head back and moaned.
“mmmpfh—missed you sooo much. missed the way you tasted fuck.”
your hands found their way to grip his hair again, tugging at it while he whimpered at the pressure like the slut he was—his hips were rutting against your couch, his cock painfully hard and leaking through his stupid sweats, but you couldn’t find it in you to care or pay attention while he was whimpering like a pornstar against your soaked cunt.
“fuuuuck—kuna keeping going—.”
you arched your back slowly, knots in your stomach while you could feel your own orgasm rush over you, cumming all over sukuna’s pretty face, still tugging at his hair while he refused to move away from your cunt, his lips still latched onto your clit as if he’d die without it.
you finally pried his head away, his face wet, his eyes completely glazed over, almost like he was entranced. by your pussy. (which was likely).
“did you finally have your fill, slut?”
“you know that talking to me like that makes me want you even more, right?”
you laughed a little, slowly petting his head before staring down at his pants. and the cum staining it. he’d cum in his pants after eating you out. what a fucking loser.
“aww you came in your pants?” you cooed.
“shut it, brat.” you grunted, trying to shy away from your gaze while you looked at him like you’d eat him whole.
and a part of you couldn’t deny that in all this time, your apartment finally felt like home. with sukuna and his cum stained pants, and your thighs coated in slick, all the while he continued to stare at you as if you hung the stars in the sky.
anywaysss. @yoonsucks @yorikae @sugusplaything
dividers: @/pixopix .
all works belong to @lilithkleia, do NOT copy, translate or feed to AI. lest you wish upon toji’s worm to crawl up your ass.
“fuck is this about?” he asked as his gaze stayed on the screen, the camera already recording. you giggled, a sound he’d once admitted was his favorite with all its sweetness, and he sighed deeply, already accepting defeat. because who the hell did he think he was, before his sweet girl he’d certainly burn the whole world for?
“you’ll see.” you mumbled, a playful grin stretching across your face. the camera angle was already perfect, catching both his figure and every grumpy expression, but you kept checking it just to be sure.
you had stumbled across the trend while scrolling, knowing your boyfriend probably hadn’t since he avoided social media like the plague, claiming that place was full of dimwits. from the moment you’ve seen the trend, you’ve always wanted to try it. and now, quite late to the trend, he stood there with his hands shoved into his pockets, an amused look resting on his features, about to partake in a trend he wasn’t even aware of.
after checking the camera one more time, you made your way over, still giggling with a disturbingly joyous tone.
“you sound fucking evil.” he groaned at the sight of your grin since he was already familiar with the scene, aware that you were planning something.
you stopped in front of him, your eyes were sparkling with joy and you were barely containing your laughter. he, visibly defeated, also smiled warmly, a sweet gesture he only ever showed to you. the stretch on his lips could’ve looked unfamiliar to anyone else, but to you it was known and comforting. a gesture so unlike him yet so much of him. so much of a part of him only you knew.
you gently took his arms, lifting them above his head. “the hell?” he asked, but you simply shrugged, making sure he keeps them there. for a moment, you also enjoyed the vision, his tight tee clinging onto his huge biceps and stretching the poor fabric.
then you tangled your fingers into his short, pinkish hair, and rose onto your tiptoes to meet his lips. the moment your lips caught his, he let out a low groan, straight from his chest.
his hands dropped almost instantly. they smoothly found your hips, pulling you against him, his warmth seeping through his hands to your body.
you’d guessed he would probably lower his arms as he openly disliked listening to others, but then again he had built an habit of obeying you over the years you were together —and still, even if he did lower them, you hadn’t expected it to be this quick.
“kuna you are so weak-“ you barely breathed the words with a pleased laugh out before he cut you off, crashing his lips onto yours again with aggressive yet careful moves.
“babe, let me breathe— okay the trend’s over-“ you tried to speak, laughing against his moist lips, as his hands wandered all over your body.
“trend?” he muttered, merely pulling back as his lips still hovered over yours, his brows furrowing, and you laughed.
“mhmm, to see if you’d melt into the kiss. you are sooo weak baby.” he glanced at the camera, and rolled his eyes as he finally understood the situation. even so he kept his hands on yours again hips, his grip tightening just slightly.
“yeah,” he said, a wicked grin tugging at his lips, “so fucking weak.” he said, before leaning in to kiss you again, muffling your laughter with a warm look in his eyes, and an amused glint beneath his gaze.
𝒔𝒖𝒎. you've been working at the same company for the last five years and you'd continue to do so if your circumstances hadn't suddenly changed. after you put in your resignation, your boss is doing everything he can to make you stay. . .
𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ── .✦ mdni (18+), office au ; smut ; light angst ; making out ; porn with plot ; fíngeríng ; cünnilíngus ; biting ; hickeys ; praise kink ; piv ; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) ; dirty talk ; big díck gojo ; creampíes ; multiple orgasms ; tiny bit of overstim ; little bit of nípple play ; use of wrist restraints but like not really (it's readers shirt) ; makeshift restraint if you will ; gojo kinda pervy but that's how i like him ; gojo's a yearner (also how i like him) ; f!reader (she/her used) ; pet names used ; no use of y/n [11.6k]
For the past handful of years, you’ve been working at a large marketing company for the CEO as a personal assistant. The job is what it is and the pay makes up for any sort of… eccentricities from your boss. Despite this, it can’t change the fact that you’re struggling to pay rent and need to move back in with your parents.
You were coping before but your roommate… the guy you were… it’s complicated. Anyways he moved out and now things are just too expensive for you at the moment. It doesn’t help that anywhere else close to work is in the same range for rent, stupid fancy company in a stupid nice area. It’s frustrating because you’re attached to this job but it’s not feasible anymore.
So, as much as you’re unwilling to part from your current position, something has to give and you’ve chosen to resign. Steeling your resolve, you walk into Gojo’s empty office and gently place your two weeks’ notice on his desk. Lingering for a short moment, remembering your first day here and how intimidated you were by him.
It was never your plan to stay here so long in the first place but it’s nearly been five years now, maybe it is time to move on to something different. Think positive, you just have to think positive and things will be good. You’ll get a new job and you’ll make new friends and your boss will be kind and maybe not as weird.
Exiting the room, you sit back at your desk that’s located outside Gojo’s office. It’s hard to focus when you’ve got so much on your mind but sometimes you think that he wouldn’t get anything done if you weren’t around.
You’d gotten a text earlier about how he had an early meeting but you know he doesn’t, he’s probably just left the office to go get himself some sweets. He won’t be back for a while either because he’s going to sit in a park or somewhere quiet and eat the evidence before he gets back to the office.
Why he even bothers to lie to you at this point is beyond you but you’ll ignore it because sometimes you want to be alone for an hour too. Unlike him though, you simply don’t have the luxury of doing that on company time.
When he does get back to the office he stops by your desk and smiles at you like he wasn’t just shirking his responsibilities for the better half of the day. He waits very impatiently for you to acknowledge him, and you continue typing at your computer like he’s not there.
Gojo eventually speaks up, “Saying good morning to your boss is the polite thing to do, by the way.”
You hold up a hand while you finish up your email and send it off, only then do you look up and raise a brow at him, “Morning? Gojo… it’s nearly midday and you’re only just now coming into the office.”
“I told you I had a meeting,” he pouts because he knows he’s caught. “And how many times have I told you to call me Satoru?”
“If you had a meeting it’d go through me because no one trusts you to show up to the ones you agree to.” You look back down at your computer and continue working, ignoring the second thing he said.
Sighing dramatically at you, “You’re so mean to me.”
Not even looking up at him when you retort, “If I were nicer to you would your job get done?” He doesn’t answer and you add, “That’s what I thought.”
“I’ll get all my work done so quick you’ll be embarrassed about doubting me.”
“Uh huh,” as he walks off you call after him, “you’ve got chocolate on your tie.”
Gojo pauses, looks down to his tie and then uses his finger to try and swipe it off, “No, I don’t.” He scuttles away into his office.
It’s then that you’re remembering the letter you’d put on his desk and you decide it’s time for your break. Sneaking away, you hide a few floors down in the employee break room. Your hands cradling a cup of tea that was hot but has now gone cold in the time you’ve been holding onto it. You’re staring blankly at it, not knowing how you’re going to face Gojo when he’s read your resignation.
He’s a bit of a drama queen and you’re not sure… you don’t even want to leave so having him fuss over it might make you feel worse. Oh, but what if he doesn’t care. What if he doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t feel like you’re all that important to him. That might be worse. You’re in a hell of your own making.
You’re brought from your spiralling thoughts by a hand on your shoulder, jumping at the touch and looking up to see Nanami. His face is as stoic as ever but his eyes are laced with a mild concern for you.
You talk before he can ask, “I’m fine, just daydreaming.”
A sound of acknowledgement comes from him, not believing you but pacified enough to move on and make himself a cup of coffee. Not facing you when he says, “Gojo’s looking for you.”
Frowning, “What? How do you know?”
He sits down across from you and plainly states, “Because I walked past him and he asked where you were.”
A small grumble leaves you, it’s just not possible to avoid him for the whole day and even if you could, you couldn’t do it for two full weeks.
“What’s going on?”
Your tea is too cold to drink now and you push it away, “Do you really want to know or are you just being polite?”
He takes a sip of his coffee like he’s giving himself time to think about his answer, “…I want to know.”
“I have to resign,” is all you say.
Nanami nods, “Well, that explains the frantic look on his face.”
Scoffing at him because that sounds ridiculous, “I left the letter on his desk and then hid.”
“You can’t hide forever.”
“I can try,” you smile, “he’s always showing up late and sneaking out anyways, I’ll probably be able to avoid him.”
The look on his face conveys severe doubt but he doesn’t comment on your words, “Why are you leaving?”
“None of your business.”
“You’re the only reason why communicating with Gojo is bearable, you leaving is going to be a nightmare for so many people.”
Your eyes roll at the sentiment, “Well, gee, I’ll miss you too.” A silence falls over the two of you and you explain, “I gotta move home for financial reasons.” It’s not everything but you don’t feel like spilling your guts to him right now.
“Ask for a raise,” he shrugs, “you deserve it.”
“It’d have to be one hell of a raise,” you fold your arms on the table and lay your head on them.
His tone comes out monotonous, “There there.”
Mumbling against your arms in reply, “You’re such a comfort, Nanami.”
“I know.”
The clicking of heels alerts you to someone else in the room but you don’t bother lifting your head to look. Not that you need to, the voice letting you know it’s Shoko, “Gojo’s looking for you.”
“I’m aware,” you sigh.
She sits down next to you, “If you’re hiding from him, this was a poor choice because I’m pretty sure he’s on his way here.”
“Have I got time to run?”
There’s a hand on your head, a tight lipped, “No,” coming from above you.
Ah, you’re caught. Sitting up, you smile at Gojo like you’ve not been hiding from him, “Gojo, is there something you need me for?”
He doesn’t bother trying to get you somewhere private, “Why are you resigning?”
Shoko asks, “You’re resigning?”
Sighing out a tired, “Yes,” before getting to your feet and walking out the room.
Immediately, Gojo is hot on your tail, “Why? Why are you resigning?” He keeps pestering you despite the fact you’re not answering, “Is it something I did? Have I been a bad boss? Do you want me to show up on time more?” A pause, “Is it because I never bring you back any sweets? I’m sorry! I just get so excited to eat them…”
Your foot taps impatiently as you wait for the elevator, arms folded and feeling frustrated by him. “It’s nothing to do with you…” he’s generally a good boss, a bit odd but he’s a good person and you’re quite attached to him, “though, you should be showing up on time.”
“Are you really not going to tell me why you’re leaving me?”
“I think my letter covered it.” The elevator dings and his presence is felt looming over you as he follows you in.
“Your letter didn’t cover shit,” he grumbles, “it was all that polite corporate speak.”
“It’s not a big deal, Gojo.” Your eyes meet his properly for the first time and he looks so genuinely hurt, it’s making this harder for you. “It’s nothing you did, nothing the company did. No one did anything, it’s just time to move on.”
“I literally cannot survive without you.” He blinks, “My company is going to go bankrupt without you and then Suguru’s will be number one, is that what you want?”
“If Geto’s company is ever number one it’s because he shows up on time and doesn’t ignore calls from clients.”
He scowls. “They should be calling you anyways, the old bastards only call me because they enjoy pissing me off.”
“Poor, poor, rich boy,” you say, looking away from him.
Gojo’s brows pinch up. “There’s nothing I can do to make you stay?”
“Nope.”
The pair of you walk off the elevator together and he’s still closer than necessary, like you’re going to disappear at any minute. “I’ve got two weeks to change your mind,” he singsongs.
It’s been a few days since that awkward conversation with Gojo and he’s been in the office every day… on time. You thought maybe the first day was just a fluke but then he kept showing up and staying. His behaviour is unpredictable at the best of times but this is the first time in the five years that you’ve been here that he’s shown up on time for multiple consecutive days.
Whatever, you’ve just been ignoring him and continuing your work. At least you would be but he’s not giving you anything to do. Suddenly, he’s interested in doing everything himself and actually staying on top of things. If this is his way of getting you to stay… it’s not working. Not only do you have nothing to do but you’re worried that he’s fucking things up.
A few hours since you’ve been in office and you’re officially bored, staring blankly at your quiet inbox. This isn’t going to work for you, you get up and walk into Gojo’s office. He’s tapping away at his keyboard and you’re a little surprised by the focus on his face.
Pursing your lips as you stand in front of his desk, feeling conflicted on whether or not you should disturb him when he’s like this. There’s papers spread out on the surface beside him, his usually clean desk now messy.
“Gojo, I’m still your assistant until the end of next week,” your voice is gentler than how you feel, taking pity on him.
He doesn’t look to you, eyes firmly on the screen. “Not if I can convince you to stay.”
“I don’t know how many times I have to say this,” you take a step closer, “but my resignation has nothing to do with you, so there is nothing you can do to change my mind.”
His eyes meet yours then, he looks tired.
Continuing to add, “All you’ve done is make me redundant, stop stealing my work and do your own.”
“I won’t hire anyone else.”
“The board will make you.” Tilting your head at him, trying to add some levity, “And there’s no way you’re not messing things up.”
He points at you, “Hey! I’ve been very diligent.”
“Which you won’t be able to keep doing long-term.” Reaching up, you tap the tip of his finger with your own.
That has him deflating, falling back into his chair and humming at you, “Okay, have all your stupid and tedious work back.”
“I will.” You glare at him as you lean over to pick up the papers off his desk.
Shuffling through them, you can see they’re a bunch of companies reaching out and trying to set up meetings or sending through complaints. Things you usually handle before he sees because it’s not worth his time.
“So much of that stuff shouldn’t be coming to me.” He’s leaned in closer, annoyance clear on his expression. “It shouldn’t even be going to you; they should be communicating through the team they’re dealing with.”
“Yes, well, a lot of companies overestimate their importance to you.” Picking through the stack quickly, you pull out the papers that are solely for him and put them down on his desk.
His brow raises to you, “Now, where did they get that idea?”
“Who knows?” You smile politely.
His people person skills are severely lacking, especially when it comes to dealing with formalities. You may or may not be making up for it.
“I’ll get back to you about these.” Hand shaking the papers, “Do not even try sneaking off, I’ll need you here while I sort through this mess you’ve no doubt made.”
“I told you I’ve been diligent.”
“And I have absolutely no reason to doubt that.” Turning to leave before stopping. “You should keep coming in on time and staying the whole day, it’s nice.”
Gojo’s groan is heard as you walk back out his office.
After you took back your workload, Gojo decided to try and make you stay through other means. It’s almost as flattering as it is distracting. The very next day and he’s taken to pulling a chair in front of your desk and sitting with you. His arm holding up his head, chin resting in his palm. It’s got you on edge, he’s just watching you. Eyes tracking your every movement, silent like he’s maybe trying to think of something to say.
“Is there something you need, sir?” Phrasing it in a certain way in hopes of reminding him he’s your boss with his own work to worry about.
“Nope.” The singular word popped back at you.
Looking to your screen, you pull up his calendar, “So… you’re all prepped for the meeting later today at three?”
It’s silent and it prompts you to look at him again. The reply you’d been expecting comes only when your eyes meet. “I’m so prepared,” his smile is easy-going and you don’t feel the same.
“Are you sure? Because you’ve just been sitting here doing nothing.”
“Don’t worry about what I’m up to.”
“All I do is worry,” you glare at him, “it’s like my whole job.”
Obviously able to tell you’re growing a bit exasperated now and switching to flattery, “And you’re very good at it.”
“I could be better at it if you’d be a more willing participant in your own company.”
“Bleh,” he pulls his head back and waves his hand at you, the expression on his face disgusted.
You ignore the fact that you don’t find him as annoying as you probably should and change the topic, “Well, while you’re here doing anything but your job, I have some applications you can look through.”
“Applications?” He looks at you curiously and takes the papers you’re handing him.
There isn’t an answer from you as he reads them, his face scrunching up more and becoming annoyed as he realises what it is he’s looking at.
“Resumes?” Gojo’s voice has lost its chirpiness, coming a bit strained, “I didn’t know we were hiring.”
“I know you won’t do it yourself, so I put up an advert yesterday,” you point at the resumes he’s holding, “those are the best applicants.”
“I don’t want anyone else.”
“I can’t stay, Gojo. It’s out of my control.”
It’s his turn to glare, it’s the first time he’s been this angry with you. You still won’t tell him why you’re leaving because you’re embarrassed and also, you’re becoming a little concerned that he’d actually give you an insane raise. You can do without that guilt.
“Fine.” He eventually says.
A breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding leaves you, “Thank you.”
He starts going through the pile, “This isn’t an entry level job,” he flicks away that applicant. “No references,” another chucked. “Wouldn’t be able to put up with me,” that one is crumpled. “This one’s messy,” gone. “This person has put under hobbies ‘organising’,” he squints like he’s weirded out before deciding, “trying too hard,” ultimately it’s chucked too. The rest of the pile discarded in much of the same manner.
You’ve watched him in disbelief, blinking at him, “They all had better resumes than I did.”
“I didn’t want an assistant before you and I won’t want one after,” he shrugs.
Fingers rubbing into your temples, “How did I even get hired when you’re this picky.”
“You’ve raised my standards,” he praises you, “and your resume was so ugly looking that I wanted to see who sent it in.”
You gape at him, shocked, “That’s why I got the interview!?”
“And you got the job because you put up with me during,” his tone has softened again, “you adjust to your surroundings well and it impressed me, even if your resume didn’t.” He thinks for a moment, “Well, your resume actually did impress me but only because it was awful—”
“—Stop,” holding a hand up, “I can’t believe you hired me because you hated my application that much.”
“Don’t leave me,” leaning in on your desk, “I don’t think I’ll ever see a resume that ugly ever again.”
Grumbling and falling back into your chair, you cross your arms. “I knew I shouldn’t have worked here.”
He grins and stands to his feet. “Don’t show me anymore applicants, they’ll immediately get thrown away.”
“Gojo—” You call after him.
“—Bye bye now.” He’d cut you off, done with this conversation and the direction it was headed.
It’s Monday again and you’re concerned about what Gojo’s going to pull this week. Last week he’d obviously stolen all your work rendering you redundant and stared at you disconcertingly for nearly an hour before revealing he’d hired you because of your shit application. He also brought you back various treats every time he left the office, not to mention the insane amounts of praise he kept sneaking into conversation.
It's not something entirely new from him but he’s taken to doing it far more often lately and you hate how much you don’t hate it. His compliments making you a little flustered every time, you weren’t aware how much you liked being reaffirmed until he started doing it so obviously and frequently.
Apparently, he must’ve caught on to you not hating it because he’s not stopped. The grin on his face self-satisfied every time he does it, pleased by your reactions. You don’t know if your heart is going to make it through this week but it’s your last, so you don’t have much of a choice either way.
In the lobby, you run into Shoko. Greeting her with a small smile, “Good morning.”
“Morning, quitter,” she smiles back.
“Ouch,” you hiss jokingly.
Her head tilts at you, “Ah, you lasted five years, it’s impressive really.”
“I’m not resigning because of him,” you roll your eyes.
The rumours in the office have been abundant to say the least, everyone blaming your leaving on Gojo. You correct people every time but they either don’t believe you or are too excited about gossip to let themselves really hear you.
“You’d be the first,” sucking on her teeth as she recounts, “I think there was… five? six? Before you. They all quit because they couldn’t put up with him.” She pauses. “Though, he didn’t hire them personally.”
“Didn’t you hear? He only hired me because he hated my resume.”
“Good luck finding another job with it then.”
You chuckle at that. “I’ll miss you, Shoko.”
“Yeah, whatever,” she brushes you off, “if you really were gonna miss me, you wouldn’t be quitting.”
“For someone who’s so unamused by Gojo, you sure sound like him sometimes.”
She side eyes you, “Take that back.”
“Nope!” You laugh as you walk away.
At your desk, the first thing you do is pull up Gojo’s calendar. Double checking that you’re remembering the itinerary for today properly. He’s got a meeting just before midday with a large company, you’ve been trying to secure a meet with them for months and they finally caved. Taking them on as a client would be a huge win for the company and it’d bring Gojo joy because he knows Geto has been trying to secure a deal with them too.
Competition isn’t something you invest a whole lot of your time in personally but you can’t help but feel happy when Gojo ‘wins’. This week is going to be gruelling; it’s getting harder to ignore how much you enjoy your job. You thought it wasn’t going to be such a big deal. It’s a job, you do it and if you need to, you find another.
Everyone here will be part of what you miss though, you won’t get to work alongside Gojo anymore… Pushing down those feelings of affection, you start your day how you often do and check your inbox. Seeing the first emails coming through as soon as business hours are official always amuses you as much as it pisses you off.
The sound of a soft tap on your desk startles you, it’s just Gojo but you’re still not quite used to his early (on time) arrivals. He’d set a coffee down for you, expression bright as he smiles at you.
You reach for the drink, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he singsongs. “Feel like staying?”
“Because you bought me a cup of coffee?”
“Among other things.”
You’re thinking of how to answer him when he yawns and stretches his shoulders back. He seems tireder than usual, “You been sleeping okay?”
He takes the opportunity to whine, “No, my favourite employee is leaving me.”
“That must be agony for you.”
“It is,” eyes sparkling, “it’s awful, I wish she would just see reason.”
Instead of replying to that, you remind, “Don’t forget your meeting at eleven.”
Dropping the pleading look, he replies, “How could I forget? Stingy bastards took forever just to agree to meet.”
“Try to have a better attitude when you talk with them.”
“You know what would make my attitude better?” Grin on his face showing that he’s clearly plotting something.
“Dare I ask?”
“You basically did.” He points at you and then himself, “You come with me.”
A range of emotions go through you at that but it’s mostly reluctance, “Do I have to?”
“I’m your boss… so, yes?” Not waiting for your reply. “Be ready by ten-thirty.”
It’s going to be a long week indeed.
By the time ten-thirty rolls around, you’re in the garage of the building with Gojo. He’s guiding you towards his car and you’re confused, “Where’s Ijichi?”
“I don’t know,” his answer is dismissive.
“Should we wait?” you frown and look at your phone, “…I don’t want you to be late.”
Clicking on the keys, the car beeps as it unlocks, “We’re not gonna be late.” He moves around to the driver’s side and opens it, stopping before getting in when he sees you’re not moving. “Get in.”
Incredulous look on you face, “Can you even drive?”
“That’s so insulting, I’m a fantastic driver.”
You’re sceptical but get in the car anyways, not willing to be late because you were squabbling with your boss.
“Why am I coming with you?”
He hums, “Because I have a surprise for after.”
“Couldn’t you have just picked me up after the meeting?”
“No. If I have to go then you do too.”
Grumbling back at him, “You’ve never made me come before.”
“If I leave you in the office you might run away before Friday,” his tone carries a playful lilt.
“You’re so dramatic.”
By the way, he is decidedly not a fantastic driver.
The surprise he was talking about was lunch, he’s taken you out for lunch. You’re overwhelmed and feel underdressed, it’s a nice place that you definitely cannot afford.
Just as he’s about to walk inside, you grab his sleeve and pull him back, “Gojo, I can’t afford lunch here.”
He snickers at you, “You thought I’d force you to a meeting with me and then take you out to lunch and make you pay?”
You say nothing.
“Seriously? What do you take me for?” A hand rests over his heart like you’ve wounded him.
Frowning at him, “I’m… I’m also a little underdressed.” Wearing business casual doesn’t feel appropriate for here.
“You look great,” he compliments, “you always look great.”
It feels like your skin grows hotter just from that simple compliment. You can’t linger on it for too long though. From just off to the side of Gojo, you spot Geto and you know this lunch is going to be on the rocks. “Please remain calm and remember that you just got new clients and how nice that feels.”
About to ask what the hell you’re going on about when Geto makes himself known, hand on Gojo’s shoulder. “What a coincidence, Satoru.” He smiles politely, nodding his head at you in acknowledgement.
You’ve always been neutral towards Geto, if you had to describe him in a word, you’d say he’s gracious. But you’re not stupid, you can tell he enjoys pressing peoples buttons. If you didn’t know any better you’d think it was merely an accident but you do know better and you can tell he does it because he gets a kick out of it. He’s similar to Gojo in that way.
“Suguru,” Gojo gives a tight smile. “What are you doing on this side of town?”
Oh, he’s already annoyed by his presence.
“This and that,” answer kept vague deliberately. “You guys about to have lunch?”
“Yes.” You answer respectfully, not forgetting your manners.
From what you know, Gojo and Geto used to be close friends working at the same company before Gojo moved up. Geto left after that and started his own company. Usually, Gojo isn’t so annoyed by him but he’s been a little extra touchy about things ever since you put in your resignation.
“That sounds great,” you reply before Gojo can. Geto walks in ahead of you both and you tug on Gojo to get him to lean down. “It’s just lunch, we’ll both survive.”
“I’m not so sure,” he mumbles back.
It’s awkward, incredibly so. Geto knows that Gojo got the client they’ve both been angling at and it’s all grins with hidden meanings and sly jabs. It’s hard to enjoy the food when you’re stuck observing this disaster of clashing egos.
After a lull in the conversation, Geto suddenly says, “I heard you’re quitting.”
You’re taken aback, you didn’t realise that company gossip would travel so far, “Yes… I am resigning.” Putting emphasis on the last word because you don’t appreciate the attachments to quitting.
Gojo’s tense, you can tell.
Geto pushes past your slight attitude. “May I ask why?”
“You may ask,” you smile politely, taking a page out of his book.
He doesn’t even blink, “Well, if you’re looking for a new job I’d be happy to take you off Satoru’s hands.”
Gojo scoffs at that, “She’s still my employee, you know?”
“From what I hear, not for much longer.”
You hate that you even semi consider Geto’s offer, he’s unfortunately closer to your parents’ home so you could live there and travel to his company. It’d upset Gojo though and you don’t know if you have it in you, even if it is just business.
Stopping their bickering with a simple refusal. “I’m fine, thank you for the offer.”
“It doesn’t expire,” Geto pushes, “if you change your mind, you’ve got a job with me.”
“I want to remind you I’m a personal assistant, Geto, not some highly sought-after marketing whizz.” You can’t understand the push for you, other than he knows it’ll piss off Gojo and you don’t play those games.
Clearly, not one to be shaken so easily, “Oh, I wouldn’t sell yourself so short.”
“Alright, I’m done being all civil now,” Gojo stands up abruptly, “We’re leaving and you can pay the bill for pissing me off, Suguru.”
“Gojo,” you scold him lightly but he’s not budging, “I’m very sorry, Geto,” standing up as well, “lunch was nice.”
Gojo grumbles, “Don’t apologise for me, I’m not sorry.”
Geto ignores Gojo and replies to your last statement, “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
“Over my dead body,” Gojo points at him.
And then you’re being tugged out of the restaurant, following after an uncharacteristically angry Gojo. It’s not like he’s especially polite and he’s always had little jabs with Geto but it always seemed more like a friendly rivalry to you. To have this kind of reaction isn’t usual and you don’t really know how to approach talking to him now.
It’s not until you’re back in the car that he’s huffing, “Can you believe that? He tried stealing you out from behind my back… in front of me!”
“It’s just business, don’t let it get to you.” You mean it as a comfort but his eyebrow twitches.
He starts the car and mutters, “Not to me.”
Today is your last day. It’s been a busy week so Gojo didn’t bother you as much, anytime you spoke it concerned work. Well, that’s not completely true, he was still trying to get you to stay and begged a little but otherwise.
You don’t feel ready to leave, you know all you’d have to do is say you want to stay and Gojo would welcome you with open arms but you can’t make it work… not right now. It’s already been hard on you physically with all the moving preparations and now it’s hard on you emotionally. You don’t think people usually feel this much regret about resigning, shouldn’t you be all relieved or something.
After work, you and your empty apartment have a date with lots of alcohol. Drinking before you move may not be a great idea but you thought living with a guy would be a good idea and look how that turned out. Fuck him. This situation is so draining and unfair and you wish you could go back and change things but you’re stuck with the cards you’re dealt.
It’s quitting time soon, the hour hand on the wall across from you slowly inching towards six. Your riveting clock watching is interrupted by Gojo standing in front of it, “Could you go down to the employee floor and give this to Nanami?”
He hands you over a file and you take it without complaint, what’s another few extra minutes on your last day. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”
You’re restless, caught between wanting to get out of here and not wanting your last day to end. The elevator dings and opens to the employee floor, when you step out you’re confused by how dark it is. It’s borderline scary, you’ve seen enough scary movies to know that you don’t stay on an empty and ominous dark floor.
About to turn around and head back for the elevator when the lights flick on and people jump out at you. You don’t have a physical reaction aside from a slight jump, only staring blankly and screaming on the inside. Taking in your surroundings you realise it’s a bunch of familiar faces standing underneath a shoddily painted banner that reads ‘we’ll miss you’ with a very small ‘quitter’ written under that. It’s like it was added last minute in pen and you have a feeling Shoko did it.
Gojo runs up from behind you, “Holy fuck, we have so many stairs,” he looks to your face and then at everyone else, “did she scream?”
Nanami answers him, “No, she’s just been staring like that the whole time.”
Gojo moves to stand in front of you, asking, “You okay? Did we get you too good?”
Everyone starts murmuring and you’re very suddenly overwhelmed by all the emotions you’ve been stuffing down all week. Tears slipping from your waterline and trailing down your cheeks before you can stop them.
“Woah, what’s wrong?” he’s fussing over you, “Hey, I’m sorry, we just wanted to send you off properly.”
You use the back of your hands to wipe at your face, “Sorry, I need a moment.” Pushing the file Gojo had given you towards him before running off to hide in the bathroom.
Taking deep breaths, you try to calm down but it’s hard when you’re also dying of embarrassment. It was really nice of them; you weren’t expecting anything so to have so many people set up a going away party was really sweet but it’s just another reminder of your shitty situation and your reluctance to leave.
A soft tap on the door alerts you to someone’s presence, “Can I come in?” Gojo calls.
“No,” you call back.
It’s quiet and then he says, “I’m gonna come in anyways.” True to his word, he enters the bathroom but he doesn’t say anything more.
Unprompted you apologise, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I didn’t mean to cry,” sniffling, “I’m embarrassed.”
“Don’t worry about that,” he walks in closer to you, placing a hand on top of your head. “If you’re so upset you could always stay.”
You laugh a little bitterly at that. “I’m fine now, I’ll come out and we can celebrate.”
“I can send everyone home if you’re not feeling up to it.”
“No, I want to say goodbye to everyone,” you look up to him, “thank you for doing this.”
“Of course,” he tucks his hands into his pockets, expression a little shy, “I couldn’t not give my favourite employee a send-off.” His upper body moves in a little like he’s going to share a secret, “I wanted to do something bigger but Shoko told me not to.”
A smile is on your lips at that, it’s so like him to want to go big. You owe Shoko for that advice, if he’d done something grand you’d be even more embarrassed than you already are. “Let’s go back.”
It’s not rowdy, it’s an office party so it’s mostly mingling and eating some snacks but it’s nice and it beats the hell out of getting drunk alone in an empty apartment. Nanami is the only one you’d given a reason as to why you’re leaving and he’d kept it to himself so you get a bunch of questions but you field them all pretty easily.
Your eyes keep finding their way back to Gojo before you feel a pang of guilt or sadness and you look away. Things slowly die down as more and more people head home and before it becomes too obvious, you slip away back upstairs to your desk.
Gojo’s office is left slightly open and you walk inside; it’s dark. The only light entering the room is coming from the surrounding building lights. You move to stand in front of the large window and look out to appreciate the view. You’re going to miss this part of the city.
“You’re not planning on robbing me on your last day are you?” Gojo asks from the door.
Getting over the shock of him suddenly appearing, you joke, “Are you kidding? I’ve been robbing you blind since my first day here.”
He crosses the room to stand beside you, “Only cause I let you.”
“What a gentleman.”
“I’m gonna say it one more time,” he looks to you, “stay.”
You don’t know how to answer him so you just lean in and hug him.
His arms wrap around you, “This isn’t very professional of you.”
“Cause you’re so professional,” you murmur back, “also you’re not my boss anymore.”
The both of you don’t say anything, just holding each other. Probably far too intimate for a working relationship but… you really needed this. It’s nice, he’s big and warm and he holds you gently. It’s giving you a lot of comfort and at the same time it’s making you want to cry again.
“I’ll miss you, Gojo.”
“I think you’ll be the first to.”
“Not true.” As much grief as everyone gives him, they’d still miss him.
He laughs a little and lowers himself so his lips are by your ear, “I’ll miss you, too.”
A shiver goes down your spine at his voice and you pull back to look at him. His face is close to yours and your eyes linger on his lips. Doing your very best to look into his eyes, you say, “Don’t ruin the company just because I’m gone.”
“I wouldn’t want to ruin all your hard work,” he grins.
You roll your eyes and move to untangle from him. He doesn’t let you. “What are you—”
Gojo’s closed the gap between the two of you with a kiss, a large hand cradling the side of your face. His thumb strokes high on your cheekbone as his lips implore yours. It doesn’t take you long at all to react, hands grabbing onto his jacket and kissing him back.
It’s overwhelming, his kiss all consuming. Almost like he’s been waiting for the perfect opportunity to kiss you like this. Lips insistent on yours, his body coming closer with a single step forward. His hand on your face tilts you up, thumb trailing to the hinge in your jaw and pressing.
You’re opening your mouth to him more and he sighs happily, licking to deepen the kiss as much as he can. It’s dizzying, mind slowly slipping of focus the longer he holds you. Your body shudders against your will because it’s never felt this good to be kissed before.
Pushing back on him, afraid you’re about to lose your mind and all he’s done is kiss you. Gojo pulls back with a suck of your tongue and your legs nearly falter, small whine leaving you. He’s stopped but he’s not moving back, hand still on the side of your face, the other having moved down to rest on your hip.
“You want me to stop here?” He asks, thumb pulling on your lower lip teasingly.
“This isn’t really—”
“Appropriate?” He asks, closer than he was before, lips almost touching yours, “Like you said… I’m not your boss anymore.”
Fuck it.
You’re the one to close the gap this time, kissing him again. It’s messier than before, an even more heated exchange and you’re realising he was being gentle with you a moment ago. Mood suddenly changed as it feels like he’s aiming to devour you whole.
He spins you so your back is against the cold glass of the window, his lower body pressing close to you. Able to feel his erection, it’s scandalous and making you tingle. You wrap your arms around his neck and he moves his hands down lower, sliding to your lower back. His fingers twitch against you like he’s holding back from touching you more.
Lips parting again so he can trail his kisses lower, burying his face into the side of your neck. Teeth nip at your flesh and you gasp, “Gojo!”
His smile reaches his eyes, “Something to remember me by,” he laves over the mark with his tongue.
Your heart twinges when you realise that your close relationship with him is ending and suddenly you’re asking, “Leave another?”
Gojo laughs a little breathlessly at that, “Hah, don’t have to tell me twice.”
He leaves another mark at your request, and then another lower down before trailing back up, his nose brushing against your neck until his lips meet yours. Words coming mumbled as he keeps kissing you, “You smell so fucking good.”
“Just shut up…” you grumble back, “and kiss me more.”
You know he wants to make another smartass comment but your shoving your tongue in his mouth to keep him quiet, he seems to be right where he wants to be though. Hands growing bolder as he grabs your ass and tugs you closer, grinding his erection against you.
Breaths coming heavy as you comment, “Pervert.”
“If I were a pervert…” he hums happily, “I’d do something more like this.” One of his hands is off your ass and slipping into the front of your pants, fingers swiping through your folds over your underwear.
A gasp leaves you, fingers digging into his shoulders as your knees grow weak. He’s prodding at your hole through your panties, almost penetrating if it weren’t for the material of them. It’s cruel, your arousal seeping into your underwear providing a slick glide for him to slide up to your clit.
“My,” he comments as if he’s shocked, “aren’t you a little too wet over a few kisses?”
“You can’t talk,” you pout, skin warming.
His eyes are bright with mischief. “Don’t be embarrassed,” finger carefully circling your clit and keeping you on edge, “it’s cute.” Sliding back to your dripping hole, “Though…” teasing you there too and then trailing back to your clit again, “you being embarrassed is cute too.”
“Are you– hff– gonna tease me the whole time?” You blink up at him.
“Probably.”
Hips rocking slightly, needy for him to touch you more, “Aren’t you being unreasonable?”
“I don’t think so.” He’s purposefully avoiding giving you what you’re seeking.
Your head falls to rest against him, hands gripping his shirt. Pleasure that feels just a little too distant running through you, making you weak and frustrated. Legs shaky to stand on with how antsy you’re getting. You should’ve guessed that he’d be a tease by how he acts regularly.
On the brink of asking him to touch you properly when he slips his hand under your panties, fingers immediately sliding inside your weeping cunt. You’re left gasping out a pathetic moan as he borderline whines. Clinging to him desperately as he angles his digits to hit the sweetest spots inside you. Slow in his pursuit, like he’s learning what gets the best reactions from you.
Gojo’s control is slipping, the tight grip you have on his fingers making it hard to think. Not to mention just how hot and wet you are, he’s not sure how he’s going to last fucking you when you feel this divine around his fingers alone.
Moans tumble from your lips and you struggle to stifle them back down, trying to rock your hips against his hand for anything more he’ll give you. It’s messy, dripping down into the palm of his hand, no doubt ruining your panties in the process. The sound of him finger fucking you obscene and too loud. Your skin is hot and you’re embarrassed from just how horny you’ve gotten, whimpering as he crooks his digits up and hits something sweet.
“Fuck– come over here,” Gojo pulls his fingers from you and tugs you over to his desk. He lifts you to sit on top of it effortlessly, hands tugging your pants and underwear off in one go. Movements rushed, impatience clear.
He’s sitting back into his desk chair and rolling forward a bit, hands resting atop your thighs. You ask him, “What are you doing?”
The answer comes incredibly blunt, “I’m gonna make out with your pretty pussy while you sit on my desk.” All smiles as he pushes your thighs apart, “I’m gonna think about this view every time I sit here from now on.”
Tongue boldly licking through your folds and making you squeal, your hand threads through his hair for something to hold onto. Quickly discovering just how good at this he really is, sliding his tongue inside your cunt and slurping at you lewdly.
Gojo eats you like a man starved, fingers digging into your plush skin as he holds you open. Your juices drip down his chin and onto his desk and all he can think about is how good you taste and how cute you are when you twitch around his tongue and how he’s probably going to get hard just thinking about this later.
Of course, he’s also going to be playing the whines and moans you’re letting out on repeat in his head later too. Finding everything about you completely endearing, even more so in your dishevelled and aroused state. To have you melting under his touch is almost too much for his poor heart to take.
Your lungs seize in your chest at how good it feels, his nose grinding into your clit with how close he’s pressed his face into you. If you had any higher brain function in this current moment, you’d be concerned if he could even breathe.
It’s getting harder and harder to sit still, desperate to move your hips in response to his stimulation. You’re falling back onto your elbows, hoping to leverage yourself better to rut against his face but he’s stronger than you anticipated. As if in punishment for your impatience, he pulls his tongue from you and trails it up to your clit. Licking it gently before wrapping his lips around it and sucking.
The feelings that run through you are immense and head spinning, feet kicking at the shock of it. Your elbows shake and give out, back bowing up in response. Hand reaching back for his head, tugging on his hair which only has him moaning against you. The vibrations have your hole twitching. Ever observant, Gojo stuffs two of his fingers inside you. Hitting all those perfect little spots he’d found earlier. Apparently having learnt a lot about your body in a short time.
“Gojo– hng– you gotta stop– hff– I’m gonna—”
His eyes look up to you, glinting mischievously. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Mouth off you long enough to say, “I’m not gonna stop.”
Almost as soon as his lips are back around your clit are you cumming; twitching and writhing through the high flooding your senses. All sensitive and whingey as he keeps fucking you with his digits. You can’t hear anything but the blood rushing in your head, feeling as though you’re floating.
That is, until Gojo pushes you dangerously close to overstimulation. His mouth off your clit, only to stuff his tongue back inside your cunt along with his fingers. Stretching you open as he eats you in a completely debauched manner.
“Too much– hnn– Gojo.” You push back on his forehead and he relents. “Perv.”
“Sorry sorry.” He grins, looking a little less than sorry about it.
He keeps your thighs open, admiring the way fresh slick drips from you entrance. He really wants to lean in and tongue your hole some more but he’ll refrain, diverting his focus to kiss your inner thighs. Sucking hickeys into your skin as much as he can, starting on the left before moving to the right. Getting a little too into it and biting your thigh a couple times, you twitch and whine at it and he doesn’t miss the way your pussy clenches around nothing in response.
Gojo gets to his feet and leans over top of you, pecking your cheek before kissing you deep and slow. It’s not hurried, taking his time to explore your mouth carefully. You don’t even realise he’d been unbuttoning your shirt at the same time until he’s moving away and opening it.
Hands quick to grope your tits over your bra, “Hmm… this is pretty,” he comments, fingers slipping under the strap and pulling back just to let it snap! back against your skin.
“Gojo!” you chastise, voice coming a little breathless.
He doesn’t even bother to take your bra off properly, just pushing it up and over your tits so he can gain direct access to your nipples. Head ducking back down to leave more marks on your soft skin, licking over your nipple to see what kind of reaction you’ll have. He’s not disappointed when you moan and tug at his hair.
Moving to rest his forehead against the valley between your breasts, he hums out, “You’re so perfect, from head to toe.”
“Don’t think flattery will get me to stay,” you joke, feeling bashful and trying to change his focus.
“How about a really good dick down?”
“Aren’t you a little too self-assured?”
Gojo stands up, shucking off his jacket and then beginning to unbutton his own shirt, “Ask me that again after we fuck.” He shrugs it off his shoulders and lets it fall to the ground.
You knew he was well built but seeing him shirtless is making you realise just how well built he is. All broad shoulders and toned abs, it’s a little hard to stay focused when you’re this horny and he’s that hot shirtless. Happy trail leading out of his pants to his belly button making your mouth water and you’re suddenly remembering that it’s rude to stare when you look back into his eyes.
Though obviously, Gojo takes it as a compliment. Large grin on his face at your blatant ogling. “Like what you see?” He asks.
“I didn’t say anything,” you turn away from him.
“You didn’t have to,” he laughs, “the hearts in your eyes said enough.”
“Oh, shut up.”
He starts unbuckling his belt, “Your pouting will only turn me on more.”
Sitting up as you tease, “You’ve got some weird kinks, huh?”
“Not at all, it’s just that I could get off to anything about you,” he replies smoothly.
You really shouldn’t find that as flattering as you do. “Not appropriate for the workplace, Gojo.”
“Getting tongue fucked on the CEO’s desk isn’t exactly appropriate either but here you are.” He reaches into his pants and pulls his cock out, hissing, “Plus, as you pointed out earlier, I’m not your boss anymore.”
There would definitely be some remark you’d make to that but your focus is kind of caught up on how big his dick is. You knew from it digging into you earlier that he was… well-endowed but to see it now is a little scary.
You point at it accusatorily, “There’s no way I’m taking that.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he laughs. “Don’t stress so much, it’ll fit.”
You quirk an eyebrow at him as if to ask, ‘you sure?’
“The foreplay wasn’t just for fun,” Gojo purrs, “though I definitely did have fun playing with your pussy—.”
Your hand slaps over his mouth, “Do you need to be so vulgar?”
He nods wordlessly from behind your hand, eyes bright with his enjoyment of this interaction.
You take too long to remove your palm and he’s licking it, your reaction immediate as you pull back with a grimace. “Ew, what the hell?”
“Ew? My tongue was literally in your mouth not five minutes ago,” his eyes roll at you.
“This and that are different things.”
“Uh huh,” brushing you off, “Open your legs more, I’m gonna blow my load before I even get inside you at this rate.”
Your legs cross at that, “Say pretty please.”
Gojo leans down and rests his hands on the desk either side of you, eyes level with yours, “Pretty please open your legs for me, sweetheart?”
There’s a bit of a begged tinge to his voice that makes you cave immediately, parting your legs again. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer to the edge of the desk, humming happily, “Thank you.”
The head of his cock is dragged from your clit to your opening and back again, sliding himself through your folds a few times just to make you desperate. Ignoring the fact that you’re already desperate, needy for him to fill you to the brim.
“Stop being a tease.”
“I thought you were worried about it fitting?” He asks.
Your retort is fast, “I thought you were going to give me a good dick down?”
“I believe I said a really good dick down,” notching the head at your pussy hole, “but I’ll forgive you this time.” He doesn’t push in immediately, instead leaving a chaste peck on your lips before he murmurs against them, “Deep breath.”
About to tell him he’s ridiculous and something about his ego being heavy to carry around when your lungs are struggling, the initial slide of his cock entering you making all air knock from you. Nails clawing at his forearms either side of you, not even able to make a noise as he splits you open.
Stopping not even half-way to give you a second to breathe, “I told you to take a deep breath.”
“Hnn– I– hng—” You can’t even reply yet, stopping your attempts to fill your lungs with air.
Gojo’s head dips as he looks at where you’re both connected, “Fuuuck—” he tilts his head back to look up at the ceiling, “I’m gonna cum too early if you don’t relax.”
He’d already held off on cumming just from touching you a couple times, finally being inside you is driving him crazy. Not even at the half-way point and his dick is twitching like crazy, your cunt sucking him in greedily and clenched so tight around him. You’re still panting and struggling to wrap your head around the stretch of him and as cute as it is, it’s also a massive fucking turn on that’s making his life harder.
You’re falling forward into him, head resting on his chest, hands clinging to him desperately. Managing out through moans, “Why– hff– why is your dick so huge?”
Breathless laugh leaving him, “You’re being really cute.”
“Shut up.”
“Getting cuter.”
He wraps his arms around you, lips pressed to your ear. With the movement his cock slides just that bit more inside you. The sound of his soft, needy whine is ringing in your head and making you twitch. Practically creaming around him already, it’s embarrassingly early to be this much of a mess but he’s worked you up so much and you can’t help but fall deeper into the pleasure.
Desire is overflowing from you and you have no idea what to do with it, holding onto him tighter as a result. Turning to the side, you kiss him wherever you can, it doesn’t take long at all for him to dip and kiss you back hard. Getting lost in his lips, wishing you could somehow pull him even closer.
While distracted, Gojo takes the opportunity to fuck the rest of the way into your tight pussy. Your mouth is dropping open with a whine, feeling the tip of his dick against your cervix has you trembling. You can’t tell if you’re imagining it but you’d swear you can feel the thump thump! of the veins on his cock throbbing against your walls.
He lowers you down onto the desk but the movement has him shifting inside you and you’re whining again, back arching against the wooden surface. You wrap your legs around his waist, feeling the need to cling to him even more.
Gojo’s head tucks into the crook of your neck, his words coming out mumbled, “Ooh, you’re gonna have me dreaming about this.”
“You– hng– you have to move.” You can’t take any more of this slow pace, your pussy begging you—and him—to be fucked.
His face comes into view, expression struggling to stay cool, “You need to keep your legs open nice and wide for me then.”
Pout making its way onto your face immediately because you really want to keep him this close but you also really want to do what he says. “This better be worth the embarrassment.”
“It will be.”
He’s pulling away from you at the same time that you’re parting your legs, hoping you’ll get away with resting your inner thighs against his hips. Clearly, that’s not satisfactory enough for Gojo because he’s grabbing behind your knees and pulling your legs further apart. Manhandling you lewdly into a position that exposes you to his greedy eyes.
Sighed moan leaving him, “You’ve got such a pretty cunt.”
“You’ve– ah– got such a dirty mouth.” A laugh moves through his chest at your retort and you don’t understand why you’re feeling butterflies over it.
“I’m gonna move now, sweetheart.”
“Please.”
The heavy drag of his cock pulling back gives you a visceral reaction, fingers digging into his desk, looking for something to hold onto. Every inch of him rubbing up against something delicious with each one of his movements, no matter how small. Tuned into every sensation you’re experiencing and feeling so sensitive with it. You’re feeling everything, pussy creaming around him at it, clearly in love with his dick.
On the other hand, Gojo’s losing his fucking mind about as much as you are—if not more. His cock throbbing, pulsing inside your hot cunt. Even though he’s going insane over how sweet your pussy is, he’s still pausing when he’s pulled out. Watching how your hole twitches and convulses around the head of his dick. Fresh slick dribbling from you and sliding down his shaft, he’s not sure he’s ever going to be normal again.
Slamming his hips to yours in one movement and as soon as he starts, he can’t stop. Repeatedly fucking into you over and over, his eyes glazing over as whimpers spill from him. You’re not doing any better, whining and grabbing onto whatever’s closest, obviously needing something to keep you grounded.
He’s bullying your womb with his tip and you’re so close to cumming, only a few more thrusts and you’re finishing around him. Surprised by your own high, hips meeting his to ride it out. Teeth digging into your lower lip as your eyes roll, too involved in yourself and the pleasure to be embarrassed.
“God– hah– you’re already?– fuck!” Gojo can’t believe it, his heart hammering in his chest at how you cum. Your pussy sucking him in divinely, begging him to keep stuffing you full.
In your fucked out bliss, you slip up, “Satoru– hmf—”
It’s the first time you’ve used his given name and his brain short circuits, everything inside him excited and he can’t help himself. Whining pathetically as he cums, not a hint of shame from him. Caught up in how pretty his name sounded coming from your lips, a little slurred in your messy state.
Not able to stop his thrusts either, your mixed cum drooling down the sides of his cock as he keeps fucking you. Keeping you both on cloud nine to the point of overstimulation. The pair of you buzzing and lost in each other. Everything is hot and messy and feels so fucking good.
His brain is stuck in a loop of your pitiful voice calling for him. “You’re unbelievable– hnn– you should stay– hah– don’t leave.”
“I can’t– ngh—”
“Breaking my heart,” he sulks, hips slowing to a steady rut.
You can feel tingling all the way down to your toes. “That’d– hff– be more believable if you weren’t balls deep inside me.”
He finally stops, pelvis flush to you. Looking down his nose as he replies, “I’m multidimensional.” Sliding his hands from your legs to your waist, “And still horny.”
His dick slips from you and then he’s using his hold on you to flip you over so you’re face down on the desk. Taking a second to admire the way his seed drips from you before plugging it with his fat dick again. Shiver going down his spine, gaze trailing up your body. Disappointed by the lack of skin showing, you’re still wearing the unbuttoned shirt he neglected to properly remove in his impatience.
Touch gentle as he slides the sleeves down your arms, initially going to take it off but changing his mind at the last second. Instead, wrapping your wrists in it haphazardly and turning it into a makeshift restraint.
When you realise what he’s done, you struggle a little against it and then huff. Forehead resting against the wood, cunt overstuffed, and now restrained in your arm movements. You feel a little helpless and it makes your insides flutter.
Gojo checks in, “You good, sweetie?”
“Pervert,” you mutter in response.
“What was that?” Fingers unclasping your bra, sliding his hand over where it’d been fastened.
“I’m good,” you reply.
He pats your ass, smiling to himself, “Then this pervert’s gonna fuck you again.”
Pace instantly brutal, angling his hips so his dick drills into your weakest point. Already having figured out your body far better than you ever have, driving you to the brink of crying from how overwhelmingly good it feels.
You have nothing to hold onto, hands trapped behind you and forced to stay there. It’s got you squirmy, unable to ground yourself with anything and it’s manifesting as you wriggling and your toes curling. Panting and writhing below Gojo, digging your nails into the cotton of your shirt as a pitiful replacement for something sturdy.
Gojo groans, hands holding you still, his fingers digging into your plush skin. “Stay still, pretty.”
“Can’t– ngh– can’t help it.” Your eyes wet from unshed tears.
He moves one of his hands up to the back of your neck, putting just enough pressure there to stop your wriggling. Immobile under him now, taking what he’s giving you. Your pussy shaking around him, consumed by him and his presence. Trusting him wholly in this moment to do what will bring you both the most pleasure, a kind of trust you’ve not given to anyone before.
There’s a creamy ring around the base of his cock from your mixed cum, a sight that makes him even more aroused. Everything you do, everything about fucking you, is only working him up even more. Thinking he’s gotten as horny as he can possibly get only for you to whine, or call his name, or twitch, or pulse around him. Causing him to fall deeper and deeper into his own insanity, borderline unhinged from how you’re making him feel.
Everything feels so much more heightened now that you can’t take it out on the furniture, brain zeroing in on exactly where his tip is hitting or the sounds he’s making for you. The soft whines and moans from him are causing your brain to fry, tingling all over and smiling a little dumbly at how he sighs your name.
It feels so good, too good, it’s almost a little scary just how good it feels. Like you’re going to fall apart at any second and you have no idea of knowing when, kept on edge and waiting for the final thrust that will do you in.
Gojo can’t believe what’s in front of him, able to feel you so vividly but still feeling like he’s dreaming because it’s just too good to be true. But you are here below him, your pussy is crying around him and begging for more. It’s real and it’s heavenly and he’s greedy for more.
“You’re so pretty,” he sighs, “so pretty– hff– and smart and your cunt sucks me in so fucking nicely.”
Managing to pant back at him, “Don’t talk.” Your pussy betrays you though, jumping at his praise.
“Why not?” Soft laugh leaving him, “Feels like you like it.” He hums softly, hand tickling down your spine, “It’s– hah– like how you got flustered by me complimenting your work.”
You’d almost forgotten that, all his words of affirmation and the kindness he’d spilled in an attempt to get you to not resign. It didn’t work but it definitely did make you feel all fuzzy inside. “I don’t know what you’re– ah!– talking about.”
“I think someone has a thing for praise,” he giggles. “That’s okay, I can give you all the praise in the world.”
“I don’t,” you deny poorly. It’s hard to sound convincing when you’re full of his cock.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” you can hear the smile on his face, “you’re doing– haa– such a good job, pussy taking me so well. Being real nice to me too, all wet and needy.”
It’s fucked up how easily he reads you, it shouldn’t be allowed. “Stop– hm– I’m gonna cum if you keep—”
“—Gonna cum because you like being told what a hot cunt you have and how great it is to fuck.”
He’s so annoying, so persistent, so stubborn, and so good at getting you off. You’re cumming around him as he gives you his nasty version of a compliment, moans loud and embarrassing. It’s the hardest you’ve ever cum and it’s knocked the wind from your lungs. A mess of shivers and whines as you ride it out. His cock prolonging your high because he’s not stopped fucking you.
Gojo’s head tips back, eyes watching how you’re squeezing around him, “Fuck– fuck– oh my god– hah– that’s it, cum around me juuust like that.”
It feels fantastic, your bliss washing over you. It won’t stop feeling good, brain all mushy and thoughtless as you barely register his words. You can feel his cock throbbing inside you, holding his own orgasm off through sheer willpower alone. “Satoru… you– hng– you gotta cum, please?”
“That’s not fair,” he whines.
You’re not playing fair. He’s trying his absolute hardest to prolong this moment, wanting it to never end and here you are asking him so very nicely to cum. He couldn’t possibly deny you, not when you’re so placid and sucking him in so lovingly. Pussy practically begging him for another one of his heavy loads.
Voice calling to him again, “Please, I want it.” And you do, you want to hear how his moans get even more pathetic as he finally lets himself go.
Not even all the way through your sentence does he fold for you, hands slamming down onto the desk as his hips jut forward, filling you to the brim with his achy dick. His pelvis keeps you so close to the edge of the desk, the wood digging into you.
Your hole flutters around him at his pretty moans and he feels every second of it, his sensitive cock reacting to it. “You feel sooo fucking good– ngh– I can’t take it, you’re killing me, sweetheart.”
He’s panting from above you, trying to catch his breath as his body shakes from aftershocks. The both of you twitchy messes, all heavy breaths and soft jerks. Your body is all limp on the desk, brain fuzzy and not thinking much of anything aside from how delightful everything feels.
In his hazy state, he manages to remember that you’re still restrained. Struggling a little to untangle the mess he made of your shirt and freeing your hands. Your arms fall to your sides, all lazy and fucked out.
Gojo slips from you and sits back onto his desk chair, taking you with him. Your head flops back onto his chest as you whine in protest but you’re too weak to stand. “Your cum is gonna get all over this chair.”
The laugh that he lets out vibrates against you, “It’s fine, I’m sure the owner won’t mind.” His big hands come around to your front, pulling your bra off properly before cupping your tits in them.
“The owner is a weird pervert.”
He’s playing with you, groping your tits how he pleases, “Oh, you’ve met him? Should I be jealous?”
You continue going along with his bit, “No, he’s some lazy guy who never shows up on time and always sneaks out to blow off work, I’d never have sex with him.”
“Wow, lucky I’m not him,” he tilts your head to the side and kisses you deep. Humming softly against you as he licks at your tongue. When he pulls back he asks, “So, was it a really good dick down or what?”
Your eyes grow wide and your skin heats up, “I refuse to answer that.”
“Because then you’d have to stay,” he grins back, arms moving to wrap around you.
There’s a quiet that goes over the both of you, “I can’t.”
He tucks his head into your neck, asking, “Are you finally going to tell me why?”
“If I told you why you’d want to help and I’m handling it on my own.” There’s a lot you can’t manage to tell him and needing to move is only the tip of the iceberg.
As much as he wants to argue back or push more information from you, he accepts your words, “There will always be a place here for you, I was serious about not hiring anyone else.”
These are your last moments with him, him being kind to you after giving you the best sex of your life and you can’t even be completely honest with him. Instead of mourning the moment before it’s over though, you let yourself be here. Held by him and warm.
𝒂ﾉ𝒏. thank you sm for reading !!! i'm sorry it took me so long to finish it 🥲 my writing speed fluctuates rapidly, i am who i ammmm. ngl i got most of this done ages ago and got stuck on the smut. ANYWAYS,, i have ideas for a second part with a little bit of angst and dramaaa but only if people want it smile ◡̈
also if it seems unrealistic to what working in marketing is like #sorry i've never worked corporate. i'm studying psych and worked as a lifeguard so i've got NO CLUE 😛
꒰ mdni ˎ you ate gojo's last pudding ; now you have to make it up to him ✧˖ 𐦯
🍮 ୧ ‧₊ gojo's annoyed at you... you can tell. maybe you deserve it... you did eat the last pudding of his but you had a craving and you didn't want to have to leave the house but now he's sulking and doing his best to stay annoyed with you.
it's the longest he's gone without breaking, a full hour having gone by where he's pretending you don't exist. grumpily watching the tv while you sit close by and feel guilty. not that guilty though, not guilty enough to apologise more than once.
he eats your treats all the time and you don't say anything about it, though to be fair to him he does replace what he eats... for the most part.
you don’t like when he’s cranky, you’re not great at sitting idly by when you know you’ve upset someone. lucky for you, you have a fool proof plan to distract him into forgiving you.
"satoru," calling to him softly.
he doesn't look at you and you shuffle in closer, still he doesn't turn to you. not until he sees the movement out the corner of his eye. you've lifted your shirt to flash him, tits on full display as a peace offering.
"is this your way of trying to make it up to me?" he asks like he's unimpressed but he's staring without shame.
your head tilts at him, "is it working?"
"no." he's still staring. he's also moved in a little closer.
"then i guess not," you shrug, going to pull your top back down.
"wait, wait," holding up a hand to stop you, "give it a little longer and it might."
"no," sighing, "you're right, there's just no making it up to you. i shouldn't have eaten the last pudding."
gojo's officially not listening, hands on your tits and groping at you. face coming down to nuzzle between them, leaving soft pecks and small licks to your skin. "uh huh," he hums offhandedly.
going to say something and cut off by a moan, his finger and thumb playing with your nipple. fondling you happily, trailing his mouth to the peak of your breast and taking your nipple in. tongue flicking against the sensitive bud to make you twitch. he's enjoying himself immensely.
you thread your fingers into his hair and pull him back, "do you forgive me?"
he leans his head against your sternum, smiling up at you, "tell you what," he grins wider, mischievous, "if you let me eat you, i'll think about accepting your apology."
★ streamer!jo makes you fuck him reverse cowgirl after you blamed him for not giving you attention
his stream is still rolling, the chat flying by in a blur of emotes and questions he barely glances at anymore.
satoru’s leaned back in his gaming chair, legs spread wide, headset snug over his white hair, mic picking up every low laugh he lets out while he queues into another round with the guys. the screen in front of him glows with bright colors and kill feeds, but his real focus is lower, right where you’re straddling him backwards, skirt flipped up around your waist, panties long gone.
“dude,” someone pings in.
“yeah, i’m here,” he murmurs into the mic, voice calm and easy like nothing’s happening, thumb brushing over the controller. “sorry about the lag earlier, my bad.”
you bite your lip hard to keep quiet, knees digging into the cushion on either side of his thighs.
he’s already inside you, thick and warm and so deep it makes your head spin every time you shift. he had pulled you onto him the second you started whining about how he never pays attention anymore, eyes half-lidded. “ride me then,” he’d said, simple as that, camera off but everything else still live. “show me how bad you need it while i finish this game.”
your hands grip the edge of the desk for balance, trying not to make the chair creak too loud.
every little roll of your hips sinks him deeper, the slow drag pulling soft, wet sounds that only you can hear. satoru’s free hand rests on your ass, fingers spread, guiding you just enough to keep the rhythm lazy and torturous. not fast, not rough but enough to make your thighs tremble.
“bro, you’re cracked today,” one of his friends laughs through the headset, probably thinking satoru’s tired.
satoru chuckles, the vibration running straight through his chest and into you. fuck.
“must be the vibes,” he answers, voice smooth, thumb pressing a little firmer against your skin as he makes you take another inch. you clench around him without meaning to and he exhales through his nose, quiet enough that the mic probably doesn’t catch it. probably.
“y’all seem to play weak tonight,” satoru responds.
you glance over your shoulder at him. his eyes are on the screen, lips parted just a fraction, but the way his fingers dig into your hip tells you he’s feeling every single flutter. he gives a tiny thrust up when you least expect it, just enough to bump against that spot that makes your mouth fall open in a silent gasp.
“keep going, baby,” he mouths, no sound, only the shape of the words while his teammate rambles about some play.
his hand slides around to your front, fingertips barely grazing where you’re stretched around him, teasing without giving you the friction you’re aching for. “nice and slow. let me feel you.”
your breath comes shaky, chest tight as you rock back onto him again, the angle letting him press so deep it borders on too much. the chat keeps popping off on the monitor, none of them knowing their favorite streamer is buried inside you, letting you use him while he casually calls shots with the boys. the contrast makes your stomach twist in the best way.
satoru leans forward a little, pretending to adjust something on his setup, and the shift pushes him even further.
you have to press your face into your arm to muffle the whimper that tries to slip out. and satoru notices, of course he does. that fuck-ass smug little huff of air leaves him as he settles back, palm smoothing over your spine like he’s soothing you.
“you good over there?” his friend asks.
“yeah,” satoru replies, voice perfectly steady even as he gives another lazy roll of his hips that has you seeing stars. “think imma need to sign out tonight, i’m not feeling well, chat.”
he keeps you like that for the rest of the round, making you ride him reverse, slow and deliberate, every movement dragging pleasure through you while he talks and laughs and plays like it’s nothing. when the game ends and he finally mutes for a second, he leans in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“blame me for not giving you attention again,” he whispers, breath hot, “and next time the camera stays on.”
discovering streamer!satoru au.. whew y’all will hate to see me coming now
i find the concept of bf!gojo teleporting to your apartment when you’re mad at him and ignoring his texts so funny
like he knows you’ll probably just be more mad and will end up slapping him for even trying that bs with his limitless but you’re severely underestimating his need for your attention.
you’re reading a book, lying on your stomach, calm in those extra fancy sheets satoru bought for you. and then he’s there. well, right next to the side of your bed, blindfold shoved up above his eerily blue eyes. your head snaps as you see him out your peripheral, jumping back immediately, nearly rolling off your bed when he appears.
“listen, baby—” a book hits him in his face—well almost does. it bounces off his…force field thingy…? if you’re honest every time he goes off on a tangent on his powers you just space out and nod along saying ‘so cool, toru’. he frowns like it’s an insane thing you tried to do that.
“what on earth is wrong with you, gojo!?” your voice is laced with shock, clenching your hands on the sheets, still a little shaken up from seeing his figure randomly appear in your room during your ‘decompressing time’ where you were supposed to be free of him.
“gojo? c’mon, you can’t be that mad?”
you ready your pillow in your hands, knowing it’ll still probably bounce right off if you throw it at him.
“what part of ‘fuck off.’ do you not get?” you’re raising your voice now and he looks physically hurt by it.
“well you said until i was ready to apologize,” he bends down, lying his arms on the bed infront of you while you jolt away. he frowns even more. “and i am, dear.” you kick his hands away when they try and trace his way up your shins.
he pouts like a child denied ice cream.
“i, satoru gojo,” he lies his head on the bed, still looking at you as he crones his head to the side. “apologize to my amazing, utterly gorgeous girlfriend, for embarrassing you infront of your boss.”
“you are such a child.” he sighs. you’re probably right—he got shitfaced infront of all your coworkers on wine coolers and disgustingly sweet alcohol, after insisting upon coming, and saying utter bullshit to your boss like a college kid. “and you just teleport here with your stupid powers? go to hell, satoru.” you throw the pillow, hitting him dead in the face after he deactivates his limitless.
you hate how cute he looks all pathetic like this, letting you throw stuff at him because he deserves this—he does—and just lying his face by your feet all pouty looking up at you. and you hate how his face actually makes you fold.
“you can sleep on my couch, tonight.” his head shoots up, dopey frog looking ass smile spreading across his face.
he ignores the rest of what you say unintentionally while he thinks about how so goddamn happy he is you don’t hate hate him.
he’s so fucking stupid.
not proofread ! btw this is not frog face gojo hate he looked his sexiest in shinjuku. and YES this is a reupload
"ngh, kuna! let go— mngh— of me!" you wriggled beneath his grasp, overstimulation fogging your brain.
sukuna was being strange. ever since he came back from work, he'd been terribly quiet, a brooding look on his face. not his usual grumpy appearance, that was certain. it was subtle, curbing right beneath your radar. perhaps he had a long day, you thought.
you failed to see the look of need beneath that stoic expression, his poor communication skills leaving him with little option but to put you on your back and rip your panties right off with his teeth. leave his face a mess with your sputtering slick.
it felt like hours had passed since your first orgasm, yet sukuna was still hungry for your taste. with the way his tongue stayed buried deep within your pulsing hole, it was as if he was trying to drink you dry. your squirming didn't faze him one bit, in fact, he seemed to tongue your clit faster, if that was possible. his hands held your legs down to your chest, keeping you exposed to him.
you gripped onto the couch cushion like your life depended on it, moans filling the living room. sukuna's slurps were shamelessly loud, louder than you, basically slobbering all over your eager pussy.
"kuna— fuck! please, slow down— ohh, shit..." your protests broke into whimpers as he sucked hard on your clit, making your legs shake. tears of frustration brimmed your eyes, desperate to cum yet too sensitive for another. you didn't know what you wanted. to buck up into his face or crawl away.
the heels of your palms pushed into the seat of the couch to sit up, only for sukuna to pull you back down with little effort.
"going somewhere?" he teased, voice hoarse from eating you out so fervently. his smirk didn't quite reach his eyes as they usually did. this was not his feral gleam— it was a pitiful desperation. a plead, for once, not a demand.
you settled your squirming body, back arching into the feeling of sukuna's burning tongue. your whines grew louder with your impending orgasm, hips rolling into his pink muscle while he lapped up your clit.
he was groaning. sukuna, your quiet boyfriend, was groaning into your pussy like it was his first meal in ages. his eyes fluttered shut as he made out with your sopping cunt, the need for your taste overshadowing the need to breathe.
his fingers slipped inside you with ease. three digits stretching you out completely, curling up into that tender spot within you so perfectly it had you screaming his name.
your climax had you sobbing. the pleasure was so overpowering, your emotions collapsing down while your legs shook like an earthquake had ran through the room.
you had to force sukuna off or else he would have continued for the rest of the night, pushing him away with your nails digging into his firm chest.
he littered kisses on your quivering thighs, up until your stomach, on which he laid his head.
"sorry," he murmured casually. "long day at work." pretending as if he wasn't moaning like a bitch in heat into your cunt, like he hadn't just cum in his pants from just tasting you.
you brought out the most pathetic parts in him, yet you considered them the best as he wrapped his arms around your waist, his spiky hair tickling your bare skin.
assume the position with sukuna who has hated you ever since college | 18+
The neon glow of Shinjuku never quite reaches the dim, wood-paneled interior of the bar, but Sukuna doesn't need the light. He can track you by sound alone. Every time your laugh cuts through din, his jaw tightens, the muscles in his neck cording like rebar.
“She’s doing it again,” he mutters into his highball, nearly grumbling like a disgruntled dog.
"Doing what, Ryomen?" Choso sighs, not looking up from his phone.
“Talking. Acting like she’s the owner of the place.” Sukuna rolls his eyes, a practiced, theatrical motion.
He’d spent four years of undergrad watching the back of your head in lecture halls, fuming as your hand shot up to answer every complex question before the professor even finished the sentence.
You were a know-it-all. You were loud. You always had to have the last word and you've been haunting his sleep, dancing behind his eyelids in a way that made his sheets feel like sandpaper against his skin.
He watches you now, nursing a gin and tonic, leaning a little too close to some guy in a cheap suit. Every time you move, the hem of your skirt hikes up a fraction of an inch, and he feels a nagging urge to stomp over and pull it down—or rip it off.
“If she likes losers so much, she should just move into a dumpster,” he growls.
A hand lands on his tensed shoulder and squeezes. “You're obsessed,” Gojo slurs, obnoxiously skewed and reflecting the fairy lights above. Sukuna just grunts.
The night wears on until the group huddles around the old photo booth in the corner, a staple with a “OUT OF ORDER” sign taped to the glass that has Shoko and you sighing in disappointment along with your gaggle of girlfriends.
“Oh, what a shame,” you lament, your voice dripping with that particular brand of pitying sass that makes Sukuna’s blood boil.
Lifting your head, your gaze sweeps over your friends then lands pointedly on him, eyes shimmering with an idea. “Sukuna-kun is a big, fancy software engineer, but I bet even he couldn't get this old thing running. It’s probably too analog for his delicate sensibilities.”
Bristling, Sukuna stands up, his massive frame casting a shadow that swallows the table. “I don't fix scraps.”
“Or maybe you just don't know how,” you shrug, turning back to the group. “It’s okay. Not every man is actually useful.”
“Hey,” Gojo whines but it's ignored.
The air in the bar drops ten degrees. Sukuna marches over, his boots heavy on the floorboards. He shoves the booth away from the wall with one hand, glaring at you the entire time, his fingers flying over the internal wiring and the interface.
About ten minutes later, the monitor flickers to life with a triumphant hum.
“Go take your stupid pictures, princess,” he bites out as you beam, making his eye twitch. He swears it never used to do that before he met you.
The group cycles through, pairs of friends giggling as the “Smart Pose”—a bizarre, experimental feature from the early 2000s—scans their faces and projects red wireframe outlines of suggested poses.
Eventually, the bar grows louder, the drinks flowing faster. Then only the two of you remain at the booth while everyone else is getting sloshed and laughing inside.
“I’m not taking a photo with you,” you click your tongue, though you step inside the cramped, velvet-curtained space anyway.
Not because you wanted to but he's like a damn bodyguard behind you, ushering you inside with his solid front pressed to your back, his heat engulfing you, tingles spreading over your bare skin.
“Afraid the camera will catch your bad side? Don't worry, you're only ugly on the inside,” he retorts in a dry, unconvincing tone, crowding into the booth.
His sheer bulk forces you against the other end, your thighs brushing against his denim-clad legs.
A cocktail of heady mint, smoked cherry and something woodsy swirls in the air. You want to take a deep breath of it but refrain since it's coming from him. It's borderline suffocating, choking you and making your stomach churn for the wrong reasons—making you want to throw up, not lean into him.
Sukuna's jaw clenches as his knees bumps yours, and the smell of your perfume—something floral but edged with a musky base—fills the tiny space.
The screen flashes: SCANNING SUBJECTS.
A green beam bounces up and down as the machine whips, analyzing the two of you squashed together and clearly wanting to be anywhere else.
Ink cuts down the sides of his face in harsh lines, his scowl more severe thanks to it as he stares into the camera, boredom etched on his face and weighing you down as you see it on the grainy screen. You're not much better, insolence set in your features, made sharper by your makeup and arched brow, daring him to talk shit.
Then, the pose appears. It isn't a hug or a high-five or one of those you'd see in your parents’ old photos from their youth.
No, this can't be right. You squint, wondering if you need a new prescription of contact lenses even though these are only three months old.
As you stare longer, the outline coalesces like pieces of a puzzle the further you lean back.
The red wireframe depicts an outline of a side profile of a man kneeling, his head buried between a woman's spread thighs as her hand is in his hair.
The silence is deafening as the words “ASSUME THE POSITION” blink back at you both on the screen in bold red.
Sukuna recovers first, full lips that are usually thinned and downturned curling with a slow, predatory grin. “Well. You were so insistent I fix it. I guess we have to follow the instructions. Logic dictates it, right, Professor?”
Cutting him a withering glower when he uses your work title, your jaw ticks as you roll your tongue in your cheek, watching his scarlet gaze track the movement then drag back to yours, molten and dark.
“Fat chance, Ryomen,” you scoff, your breath hitching as his smirk widens and you stand up, exiting the booth. “In your dreams.”
Moments later, after an agonizing game of eye tag and cocked brows, the “fat chance” comment is a memory lost to the sound of a locking door in the back hallway’s single-occupancy bathroom.
This was inevitable, really. A couple of years too late if you asked any of your friends. Ever since you were roped into this group, Sukuna and you would clash in a smothering exchange of insults, nasty looks and incomprehensible muttering. A boiling point was bound to be reached with how you both bubbled and rattled with each and every interaction recently. It was overflowing.
Despite the hostility that makes others squirm, it's no secret that you two want to fuck. Violently, at that. Some even think it would be cathartic.
The opportunity never seems to arise though with your revolving door of crappy boyfriends and his roster of flings who make it painfully obvious that they want to be more.
Fret not though, because as of a couple of months ago, you'd sworn off dating and he called it quits with his not-so-girlfriend, you both using the sore spot of your love lives as new jabs for each other.
Can it really be called animosity when the smart remarks are merely appetizers to the main course of you eye fucking each other across the room all night?
Probably not.
Ever the blunt one, Satoru has always said you two would be on much better terms if you fucked it out. No one ever listens to his ridiculous advice.
Well, until tonight—
The light is a flickering, sickly white. Sukuna drops to his knees and sits back on his calves, hauling you toward him with a burly arm around your waist. You yelp, heels clicking in panic as you almost tumble but he holds you steady with a mean chuckle.
“Been a while?”
“Fuck off, no,” you snap.
His hands are huge, his calloused palms dragging against the sides of your skirt as he bunches the fabric up to your hips, cool air caressing your skin.
“You always have something to say,” he grits out, his voice thrumming against your stomach as he tugs off your lace panties and tosses them toward the sink. “Say something now.”
“You're an asshole,” you breathe, your fingers knotting into his thick, coral hair as he pries your legs apart, draping one over his broad shoulder.
Humming, his crimson eyes peer up at you as you brace a hand on his shoulder for leverage. “And this asshole is about to lick your neglected pussy in a bar restroom.”
Diving in, his tongue is a blunt, debilitating weapon, mimicking the way you use words to cut him down—precise, overwhelming, and utterly dominating. The hot, wet muscle swipes upward, catching your puffy clit between his teeth, a sharp nip that makes your back arch and your head thud against the tiled wall.
A startled cry rips from your throat at the sudden lick, his eagerness causing your brain to stutter.
“Keep it down,” he warns against your skin, his teeth grazing your inner thigh, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your clit. “Don’t want your loud voice alerting the whole bar, do we?”
“No,” you agree in a meek voice that would piss you off under any other circumstances.
He knows it too, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he smiles. “Good.”
The scent of him—cedarwood, expensive tobacco, and whiskey—fills your lungs. He's greedy, devouring mouthfuls of your swollen pussy with the enthusiasm of a cannibal, groaning into your cunt.
“Fuck, your pussy's so sweet. If only you were too.”
His cock kicks in his jeans as his fingers find your fluttering hole, pushing through the puddle of slick there, two of them sliding inside with a wet squelch that echoes in the small space, stretching you with a delicious burn while his mouth sucks and smacks loudly between your quivering thighs.
“Ryo,” your gasp is punctuated by your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging, hips bucking against his face, drenching his tanned skin and tattoos in your slippery arousal, his head bobbing with each frantic grind.
“Fat chance, Ryomen,” he mocks in an exaggerated impression of you, his voice muffled against your sopping pussy that clicks with the words he mutters.
Drawing back for a second, his chin glistening, his pupils blown with a terrifying, obsessive hunger. “Tell me again how I don't know what I'm doing.”
The fucker doesn't offer you the chance to answer when his lips capture your clit again, pulling the bundle of nerves taut and rolling it like it's a lollipop. Your knees wobble and almost give out then and there.
A broken, whiny keen pours spills from you as he buries his face back into you, nosing at your flickering nub. His tongue pushes inside you with a lewd slurp then curls back to lash at your nub in long, dragging licks, his thumbs pinning your thighs open so you can't escape the overwhelming sensation.
He's trying to eat you, you're sure of it and you're presenting yourself on a silver platter as you feed him more of your aching cunt, feverish to get more of it inside his mouth. And he's tasting every bit of the friction that had been building between you for years.
It's tarty and sweet with hints of something metallic like the blood he's fantasized of drawing from your plump lips when he gets to kiss you and sink his teeth into them.
Every nerve ending in your body slides to your clit as he wraps his lips around it and suckles harshly, a glob of arousal seeping out of you and your stomach dropping.
The grit of the bathroom tiles, the hum of the pipes, and the merciless assault of his mouth is all your scrambled thoughts can string together, incoherent noises and nonsensical words pouring from your mouth as he pants like a dog.
Sukuna responds to each one even though you're a hundred percent sure neither of you understand whatever the fuck you're drunkenly babbling about as your hips roll against his swirling tongue and ride his thick, long pumping fingers.
When you finally come, your orgasm punching you in the chest as you cry out, muffling your scream into your shoulder, he doesn't stop. He drinks you in, swallowing your cries and your cum, holding you steady until your tremors subside into a dull, buzzing ache.
Sukuna stays there for a moment, his forehead resting against your soft tummy, breathing heavily.
He pulls away slowly, biting down on your doughy thighs and licking over the bruising indents of his teeth with a content sigh, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand, looking up at you with a look of pure, smug triumph.
“There,” Sukuna whispers, his voice a dark caress as he rises to his dizzingly towering height, dotting a kiss to your damp temple. “Can't have the last word now, can you?”
You think he's going to wash his face and leave but a finger taps your cheek and you look up through half-lidded eyes to find him gazing down the line of his nose at you.
Pointing to his face, he ducks. “Clean up your mess, big mouth.”
Stomach flipping, you comply, cupping his face and licking at his skin. The pool of heat in your belly coils again, clit pounding as you taste yourself on his damp flesh and he groans a low, drawn out sound when your tongue laps a flat stripe up his cheek before he turns and kisses you stupid.
Sticky and wet is what you are when you join your friends once more as if nothing was amiss, using the excuse that you were touching up your makeup. Sukuna doesn't bother making up a story and no one questions him.
The man must've worked up an appetite after making you come on his mouth until you tapped out because his gaze is boring into yours as he takes a big bite of his burger. Desire pricks at your abused clit as arousal sloshes in your stomach once again.
You don't have to wonder if he eats other things like that because you fucking know he does. It's an Olympic sport trying to avoid his piercing eyes and ogling his bulging forearms and the ink crawling up his tawny skin.
His knee does press insistently against yours under the table now though and Suguru's serpent-like eyes bounce between you two now and then but he says nothing.
Later, the pink-haired bastard will demand that you let him drive you home since you're “too drunk” and it's on his way anyway. You'll refuse but relent when he flashes you a knowing look.
Then he'll make you apologise for being a difficult brat by eating you out for hours until you're blabbering sorry's and begging him to fuck you on his cock.
note: i know y'all know that art trend on tiktok hehe. art by mizuart_bolillo on x <3
“why do you hang out around my uncle?” is all yuji asked while you were sat at his coffee table, books spread over the place while sukuna found the two of you something to eat.
“im tutoring him, yuji.”
“whats thaf mean?” he says plopping onto your lap while you pinch his little cheeks, looking up at you with gigantic doe eyes. you’d built your persona around hating most things, but when this pudgy pink haired toddler was so insistent on being your friend, i mean who could say no to him?
“it means i teach him things that he doesn’t understand, baby.” you cooed while yuji giggled trying to grab your face and smush it together.
“does this mean he’s stupid?” yeah. you were going to get along with this kid just fine.
“i heard that, brat.”
“uncle kuna!! is stupid!!” yuji yells sticking his tongue out while he blew raspberries at him. while sukuna set down his snacks, seating himself next to you, glaring at the poor boy.
“i thought you hated kids?” sukuna says tilting his head, while slowly trying to pry yuji off of your lap—
“well, i dislike most kids, not yuji though!”
“pretty lady likes me!!” he clapped his hands together, curling into your lap while trying to evade his grumpy uncle who seemed dead set on prying him off of your lap.
“an enemy of my enemy is my friend. who’s my enemy, yuji?”
“uncle sukuna!” he cheers while sukuna was practically fuming next to you, trying to find out if there was a legal way he could make a kid disappear until the girl he liked who definitely didn’t like him would finally pay attention to him.
you gave yuji a little high five, the boy giggling against you while you looked at him, and for a second sukuna swore he saw your eyes soften a little—the walls that you’d spent so long building were starting a crumble and if having his gremlin of a nephew meant that you’d ease up a little, he could bite his tongue and take it whenever yuji gave him a smug look while being curled up in your arms.
LAST ONE FOR NOW. i’m tired huuuhhhgh @yorikae @yoonsucks
dividers: @/pixopix .
all works belong to @lilithkleia, do NOT copy, translate or feed to AI. lest you wish upon toji’s worm to crawl up your ass.
frat!sukuna, who’s been eyeing the adorable girl who sits in the front row of his physics class, always quiet, only talking to your group of friends, always steering clear of chaos and most importantly, guys like him.
frat!sukuna, who tries to convince himself that you aren’t his type, that you’re too quiet, too soft for someone like him, but he decides that striking up a conversation with you wouldn’t be the worst thing ever…or so he thought.
frat!sukuna, who calls out to you after class, catching up to you to try to ask you for your number, only to be met with the sharpest,
“and why would i give you my number?”
he’s practically stunned to silence, nearly stuttering—he’s so used to women practically throwing themselves at him, and he thought you were shy, soft spoken, but the way you were looking at him now? it looked like you wanted him dead.
frat!sukuna, who just stares at your face, god were you always that pretty? and he just couldn’t fathom why you scowling at him was one of the prettiest sights he’d ever laid his eyes upon.
“what? are you really just gonna gawk at me? say something geez” you scoff while walking past him in the hallway and sukuna swears he feels his heart skip a beat while he watches you walk away.
frat!sukuna, who’s absolutely hell bent on getting to know you after this one conversation with you, he’s practically stalked through all your socials, found all your secret accounts, going through all the little pictures, studying your reposts—he’s obsessed.
frat!sukuna, who tries to approach you after class the next day, only for you to roll your gorgeous at him, scoff and just go about your day as if he was never there.
frat!sukuna, who almost fascinates you, much against your will, but his persistence in wanting to get to know you only fuels you on further, plus it’s hard not to notice the way he flushes almost as bright pink as his hair every single time you roll you eyes at him.
frat!sukuna, who gets a little kick out of getting degraded, something about you being so mean to him just gets him going, he just needs to know what’d be like to have you look at him the same way you look at your friends.
frat!sukuna, whos always the first to check your instagram the second you post your pretty face, your lips curved in the most stunning smile and before he knows it, he’s palming at his cock, all your scoffs ringing in his ears, his back arching pathetically on his mattress, while he snakes his hand underneath his sweats to wrap his hands around his dick.
frat!sukuna, who cums almost immediately at the thought of you looking down on him, your eyes slit, your glasses perched at the tip of your nose, while you stare down at him with nothing but disgust on your face and fuck if that’s not the hottest thing he’s ever thought of in a while.
frat!sukuna, who’s absolutely hell bent on finding a way to impress you, sitting next to you during classes, staring at the unimpressed expression on your face with heart-eyes, always lending you cute stationary, just to watch your eyes soften for a split second before—
“what the hell is this sukuna?”
well. if you were going to play hard to get, so be it. sukuna wasn’t deterred at all, the meaner you were to him, the more infatuated he grew. what can he say? he just wants a woman who can put him in his place, and it seems like he found someone who just did.
sorry we back in my flop era but im bringing out my old favs !! @yoonsucks @yorikae
dividers: @/pixopix .
all works belong to @lilithkleia, do NOT copy, translate or feed to AI. lest you wish upon toji’s worm to crawl up your ass.
synopsis: your best friend's older brother finally added you on instagram. what's a little harm in flirting with him through instagram notes?
inspired by the ig notes au trend on tiktok!
part 1 part 2
a/n: pt 3 is finally done omfg. again, hope it doesn't disappoint anyone, I tried to flesh out their relationship before commitment. anyway off to make frat gojoooooo (with a hint of him being a sugar daddy) (spoiler?)
Sukuna knows he fucked up.He knows he deserves the award for The Biggest Dickhead of the Year.
You spent your birthday alone because he was too busy being a selfish prick to remember the one person who’d been there for him for literally everything.
You were there when his mom got sick.You were there when his dad was a drunk asshole. You were there when he failed maths and thought his life was over. You were there for every birthday, every breakup, every panic attack about nothing and everything. And somewhere along the way you stopped being his best friend and became…. just a girl he fucked.
When did he stop seeing you?
When did he stop noticing you were there?
What’s killing him is that you just gave up on him. You didn’t scream or throw shit or demand explanations…he could handle anger. You looked exhausted. Tired of him. Tired of being the person who cared more.
Fix it. He has to fix it.
But how the fuck do you fix fifteen years of friendship that you torpedoed in six months?
☾☾☾.
Heartbreak, as it turns out, is fucking exhausting.
Not in the romantic way movies portrayed it. No standing in the rain, no meaningful stares out windows while sad music played.
Just bone deep exhaustion.
You’re extremely fucking confused when Sukuna shows up at your apartment ten days after your birthday….. ten days of radio silence, ten days of you ugly crying into ice cream and deleting his number only to restore it from recently deleted like the pathetic creature you are……. with flowers and mochi. Not just any mochi. Mochi from your favourite place that’s twenty three minutes across town in traffic. You know because you’ve driven there multiple times. Usually when you were having a shit day and needed something that felt like a small extravagant fuck you to responsible adult decisions.
He’s holding it out like a peace offering. Like it’s a white flag. Like it’s anything other than what it actually is, which is a desperately transparent attempt to buy forgiveness.
You stare at him through the crack in your door chain lock still on….. and he looks… bad.
You can tell he hasn’t slept properly, which you know because you’ve seen Sukuna on two hours of sleep after exam season in university and he still looked better than most people do on a full eight. There are actual shadows under his eyes.
And his usual expression…. that infuriating smirk that says he knows he’s hot shit and you’re probably thinking about him naked… is completely absent. Replaced by something that looks almost… nervous?
Ryomen Sukuna. Nervous. The same man who once fucked you against your kitchen counter, maintained eye contact the entire time, and then had the audacity to eat your leftovers after.
“What do you want?” Your voice comes out flat, which is good. Flat doesn’t show that your heart’s jumping just from seeing him standing there.
“To talk.” He lifts the mochi box slightly.“Please.”
‘Slam the door in his face.’ That’s what your best friend would say, right?
‘Don’t be his friend. You know you’re gonna wake up in his bed in the morning’ At least listen to Dua Lipa. You’re undoing all the progress you’ve made.
What progress? You’ve made zero progress. You’re a mess.
So you undo the chain and let him in, because apparently self respect is a myth and you’re living proof.
He steps inside and immediately your apartment feels smaller, which is saying something because it’s already pretty fucking small. It’s not even that Sukuna’s particularly huge, he’s tall, yeah, but it’s more about the way he takes up space. The way he’s always had this gravitational pull that makes you orbit him whether you want to or not. You’ve been orbiting him since you were kids. Maybe that’s the whole problem. Maybe you never learned how to exist in your own solar system.
“You have five minutes,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, which is definitely a defensive position but also necessary because you’re not wearing a bra and you’re not about to let him think this is that kind of visit.
“I fucked up.” The words come out so fast like he’s been practicing them.
You can’t help it… you laugh. “Oh, wow. Groundbreaking. Should we call the press? Alert the media?”
His jaw does a tiny clench that you’ve seen a thousand times, usually right before he says something he knows is going to start a fight. But he doesn’t. He just takes it. Absorbs your sarcasm because he deserves it.
“I know sorry doesn’t fix it,” he continues, and his voice has this quality to it that you’ve never heard before. It’s rough.“I know showing up with flowers isn’t enough. I know…” He stops and runs his hand through his hair and you watch it happen, watch the way his fingers drag through the pink strands and leave them sticking up at odd angles. “I’m fucking drowning without you.”
Your chest squeezes painfully. Like your heart’s being wrung out like a wet towel. You ignore it. You’ve gotten good at ignoring things. Six months of practice.
“You forgot my birthday, Sukuna. You went on a date with someone else and then you showed up here expecting me to be available? Like I’m some 24 hour convenience store for your dick?” The words come out quieter than you intended. Less accusatory and more… hurt. Which you hate. You wanted to sound angry.
“No, I…….”
“Do you even know what that felt like?”The words explode out of you and you’re not yelling, not quite, but your voice is definitely raised and you can feel the tears threatening and fuck, you don’t want to cry in front of him. Not again. “Waiting all day for a text. Checking my phone every five minutes like a fucking idiot?
He looks wrecked. Absolutely fucking wrecked, and some petty part of you is glad. Wants him to hurt the way you hurt. “You’re right. About all of it. I treated you like shit. I took you for granted because you were always there and I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Apology noted. Was that all?” you say, and you’re proud of how steady your voice is. How calm. Like you’re not actively falling apart inside.
“What…no……” He runs a hand through his hair again, frustrated. “What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing. I don’t want you to say anything.” And oh, there’s the anger. It’s bubbling up now, hot and acidic. “I want you to leave me alone.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Sure you can. It’s easy. You just walk away. You’re good at that.”
He flinches at your words “please…” He pauses “The last ten days have been hell without you. I miss you.”
“You miss fucking me.”
“No.” His voice comes out sharp. “I miss hearing about your day. I miss you stealing my hoodies. I miss the way you laugh at stupid shit. I miss you falling asleep on my couch during movies. I miss you.”
“Don’t do that” You can feel tears burning behind your eyes. “Don’t try to…. ”
“I’m in love with you.”
The words land and it feels like getting punched in the stomach and kissed at the same time. White noise fills your ears where thoughts used to be. You’re vaguely aware that your mouth is open…. definitely looking stupid……. but you can’t seem to close it. Can’t seem to do anything except stand there and replay those four words over and over
“What?”
“I’m in love with you.”He steps closer and you step back. Your spine hits the kitchen counter. “I’ve been in love with you for… I don’t even know how long. Maybe always. Maybe since we were kids. I don’t know. But I know that I fucked it up because I was scared and stupid an….”
No.
No, he doesn't get to do this.
He doesn't get to say the words you’ve been dying to hear for months…. not now, not after everything, not when you’ve finally started to piece yourself back together.
“Bullshit.” Your voice shakes. “No feelings, no strings, remember?”
“I was wrong.” He moves closer. You let him this time, too shocked to move. “I was fucking wrong about everything.”
Tears are streaming down your face now. You don't even try to stop them.
“Ten days,” he continues, voice raw. “Ten days without you and I’ve been losing my fucking mind. I can’t sleep. Can’t eat. Can’t think about anything except how badly I fucked up.”
“Stop.” You are full on sobbing now “Just stop talking.”
“I love you.” He reaches for you, then drops his hand when you flinch. “I’m sorry, I know I don’t deserve another chance, but I’m begging. Please. Let me fix this.”
You stare at him through blurry vision. This is what you’ve wanted, isn't it? For months, this is all you’ve wanted… for him to choose you, to love you back.
But now that you have it…
“I can’t….. after everything, I can’t just jump back in like nothing happened.” You want to believe him. You wantto believe him so badly it physically hurt. It’s like this ache in your chest that radiates outward, makes your fingers tingle and your throat tight. But you’ve been hurt before. So many times before.
“I’ll wait.” He says it without hesitation. “However long you need. I’ll wait.”
This is stupid. This is the kind of shit that happens in romance novels where the emotionally constipated man child suddenly becomes a feminist poet who understands feelings and the girl forgives him and they have passionate sex in the rain and everyone forgets that he was a dick for the first two hundred pages.
Real life doesn’t work like that. Real life is messier.
You wipe your eyes and try to compose yourself. “I need you to leave,”
That hurts more than he expected. More than anything has hurt in his entire fucking life.
He nods, stepping back immediately. He makes it three steps before you stop him. “Sukuna?”
He turns back
“Yeah?” He looks at you with so much hope in his eyes it hurts to see.
Giving Sukuna a second chance to prove himself is like giving a gambling addict chips and expecting them not to hit the casino. It’s like trusting a cat to guard your sandwich. It’s doomed to fail.
But a stupid, naive part of you wants to believe that he can change. “If you actually mean this…” You wipe your eyes. “If you’re serious about this…prove it.”
Relief crashes over his face…. Like you just told him he’s been pardoned from execution. “How?”
“Figure it out.”
And for the first time in ten days, Sukuna feels like he can breathe.
You don’t t know if this can work.
But maybe it is worth finding out.
If he proves it.
☽☽☽.
He proves it slowly.
Not with flowers (though he sends them anyway, your favorites, every Sunday). Not with expensive gifts (though he leaves your favorite mochi on your doorstep some mornings).
And somewhere along the way, you soften.
You let him take you to dinner (not a date, you insist, even though it feels like one). You let him drive you home (you don’t invite him up). You let him text you (and you text back).
Three months after that night, you let him kiss you.
It’s different this time… Softer. Like he's cherishing every moment, memorizing the feel of your mouth, the taste of you, the way you sigh against his lips.
Six months later, you’re in his bed (your choice this time, you’d insisted), and he’s holding you like you might disappear if he lets go.
“I love you,” He presses a kiss to your shoulder.
You turn in his arms to face him. Your eyes are heavy with sleep, your hair a mess, and you’ve never looked more beautiful. “I love you too”
toji fucks into you roughly, his balls hitting the curve of your ass as his heavy, swollen head pounds your gspot, his thrusts focused on hitting that weak spot to make you scream for him. one hand presses down between your shoulderblades while the other holds your arm behind your back, keeping you pinned in place so he can fuck you into the mattress without you wriggling away.
"mngh- ji!" you cry out, your sensitive nipples rubbing against the soft fabric of your sheets and adding even more stimulation. it's paired with your walls feeling every vein and ridge lining his fat cock as it rubs against your squishy insides.
"ji!" he mocks your whiny noises in an obnoxiously high pitch. he holds no sign of sympathy in his voice as he thrusts in and out of you at a painfully fast pace. "whaddya want, hm? 'm i not fucking you hard enough?"
just to rile you up further, he grabs your hips and starts pulling you back into him like a toy, fucking you back onto his cock and watching your ass bounce each time your needy hole swallows up his cock. not only are you just oozing slick out and making a mess of yourself and his cock, your pussy grips onto him each time he pulls back, and the sight is just unbelivable. pretty walls hugging onto him and sucking him back in any time he pulls back, while the fat of your ass ripples and bounces with the force of his rutting. he could cum from the sight alone. "shit, you're such a beauty, y'know that?" he praises, groaning loudly at how good your walls feel around him. "got a pretty body and a beautiful face. what more could i ask for, hm? getting to fuck my dream girl every damn day."
imagine using your roomate, 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 as 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐘 after a rough day at work.
he's so good to you, the moment he notices that stressed frown on your face, he lets you use him however you want. he lets you ride him on the couch until your thighs burn and your pussy cannot stop convulsing around his cock. you don't even get undressed all the way, just pulling your panties to the side and hiking up your skirt enough to straddle him.
the blood rushing through your veins, down to your cunt, makes your body feel like it's burning. the sweat beads your forehead, hair sticking everywhere, clothes too; but you don't care, you just want to keep feeling that high from hitting your spot with his fat tip. nails dig into broad shoulders, bracing yourself to keep a steady rhythm. fuck, you feel so good.
suguru's hair is loose, a black curtain falling all over his shoulders and arms. he looks so pretty like this, under you, half-lidded eyes trying to keep themselves open to look at you, cheeks pink. "fuck, baby, you like that?" his strong hands hold onto your hips, helping you bounce on his cock. they dig into your flesh, probably gonna leave some bruises, but you don't mind — you like it when he's rough.
you whimper and give him a quick nod. "yeah, suguru, s'good." your hips roll into him and his mouth opens slack-jawed. his lips look so puffy. so pink. so kissable.
so you kiss him. your hungry mouth devours him completely, like his lips are some temporary cure for your problems. they feel like that, judging by the way your mind goes foggy and no longer remember why you were so upset to begin with. all that occupies your brain is the warmth of his tongue.
