Marie @tacos6627 - Tumblr Blog

PRETTY KITTY TURNS PRETTY HORNY .ᐟ FT SATORU GOJO

synopsis - finally you decided to adopt a new friend at the adoption centre! only, he wants to be more that friends…

warnings - p in v, brief oral sex (fem receiving) unprotected sex, slight manipulation(?) creampie, shitty smut, petname: master used mockingly, not thoroughly proofread, talk of potential children, lowk masochist gojo, ect ect. fem reader

notes - yay I finally got this out! lol it honestly did get a bit sloppy at the end but I wanted to get this out b4 christmas!enjoy! the smut is lowkey short but I don’t want to fix it..

edit - I just realised I posted this on his death date

Phew, you did it.

You finally grew a pair and adopted a newly rescued snow-leopard hybrid! After months of your self-pitying you managed to convince yourself to adopt a friend!

You spent many, many hours contemplating on whether to actually adopt. And many hours more watching sad videos on hybrids, how mistreated they are out of the adoption centre.

That was more than enough to convince you.

Now you have an exotic hybrid of your own! And he’s just the cutest little—er big thing! He’s got fluffy little ears, a handsome face, striking blue eyes, and the fluffiest tail in the world!

dalazzx

i loove ur puppy!satoru and bunny!reader ⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾ mor plz hehe

Warnings: PuppyHybrid!Satoru x fembunnyhybrid!reader, smut, dubcon, licking, mentions of Suguru (he’s a perv), jerking off, exhibtionism. I hope you like this!!! Enjoy!!

Toru absolutely has no sense of when things should be done and when they shouldn’t be done, he’s completely fine with having a full on make-out session with you right as Suguru is clicking away at the channels a few inches away from you to. you hate public displays of affection so you’re always whining and pawing to get away from him. He really won’t have any of it, he’s trying his hardest to suck on your tongue or trying to slip his hands under your shirt.

Suguru really seems to not care in the least bit, he’ll intervene to tell Satoru to calm down but apart from that he doesn’t mind the small moans that make your way up your throat.

Nor does he bat an eye when Satoru is blatantly tugging down his sweats to free his already leaky cocklet, he has no shame with the way he’s rubbing your pussy through your underwear, and when Satoru places you on his lap, quickly shutting you up with a small warning growl, he still isn’t turning his head.

Satoru slips his needy cock right into you with no problem, you were already wet enough just from the kissing. He’s filiting himself right into your gummy walls and fucking up into you. Satoru is a loud moaner, he practically howls as he milks himself with your pussy over and over. His bunny feels so damn good how could he not ruin you over and over?

You and Satoru don’t see it but Suguru is totally looking: but not making it obvious and even if he did you two still wouldn’t notice in your state right now. He’s staring at where you and Satoru connect, creating that nasty milky ring that dribbles down Satoru’s thighs. Suguru starts rubbing at his thigh, trying to zone out as to not seem like a pervert, but aren’t you two the perverts here?

Without regard for privacy anymore, Suguru rubs his cock through his pants, squeezing his tip in tune with the way Satoru makes you bounce agaisnt his dick.

And it’s not long before he just rips his dick out from its confines and jerks off, rubbing the precum from his tip all the way to his heavy balls, Satoru lifts your legs and he gets to have a better angle at your soft pillowy cunt, you’re so damn wet, glistening in the warm light and oh so beautiful!

5yzygy

── ⟡ ˙ Tear You Apart ̟ ⊹

Ⅰ. Prologue

sum. sukuna killed you in your first life. reincarnated, seeing you again brings back memories he'd rather stay buried.

✧ chapter cw. depictions of cannibalism, violence, major character death, angst, mild fluff, true-form sukuna, heian era au, dddne

✧ wc. 2.2k

✧ an. maybe ill make a masterlist for this.... sukuna and reader are both around 7-8 in this part

artist credit

Sukuna knew hunger before he knew he existed.

And where hunger lives, consumption follows.

So the truth is this: Sukuna learned to consume before he ever learned to breathe.

In the warm, wordless dark — in that primordial cradle of blood and pulse — Sukuna devoured.

His first act was annihilation; his first nourishment: his own other half.

A twin heartbeat that faltered beneath his own. A second life he swallowed into himself — absorbed, silenced, claimed.

He entered the world alone because he had already taken the only company he was ever given.

From the beginning, before thought, before memory, before name, Sukuna was built from hunger.

And his very being — his first and truest instinct — was consumption made flesh.

The first time you saw him, he was crouched at the edge of the rice paddies, toes buried in the soft mud, staring at the sky as if he was waiting for something to fall out of it.

He didn't look like the other village boys, the ones that ran in groups, shouting, throwing pebbles, chasing dragonflies.

Yes, your first point of distinction that he was different was that he was sitting alone, knees pulled to his chest.

Not that he had twice as many arms as a person should have.

Twice as many eyes.

A hard, xyloid sort of mask over the right side of his face in which the embedded eyes were particularly large, and laid almost vertically.

Nor was it that black ink crawled across his sun-tanned skin, a harsh color in an almost shocking contrast to his hair — his hair which was messy and untamed but the color of dying cherry blossoms.

The loose hakama he wore were torn, and he was thin — too thin, even for a famine year.

Gaunt, hollows beneath those quadruple eyes, all sharp angles and curves where his ribs jutted out.

You watched from the path where your mother couldn't see you.

The boy looked hungry in the way abandoned dogs did, but there was also something else in him — a strange stillness, like a wild thing pretending to be harmless.

When you finally stepped toward him, the mud squishing under your rice straw sandals, his head jerked up sharply.

His eyes were the color of freshly spilled blood.

Too bright, too many, too sharp.

For a moment you froze — every warning your grandmother had ever whispered about spirits in the shape of young boys echoed through your mind.

"You shouldn't come close," he said. His voice rasped like that of vocal chords that weren't frequently used.

"People say bad luck follows me."

You blinked. "That's a silly thing to say."

"It's true." He glanced back towards the treeline. "The adults don't want me in the village. They say I carry the mountain's hunger."

"What does that mean?'

His shoulders rolled in a shrug. "Maybe I ate something I shouldn't have."

A joke—hopefully—but it landed heavy between you.

You took one more step anyway. "Are you hungry?"

His shoulders tensed like he wanted to say no, but the truth pressed up behind his ribs — so he nodded once.

Reaching into the waist of your wrapped skirt, you pulled out a small cloth bundle — half a millet cake your mother had given you.

Hardly anything, but to a starving child, it was treasure.

As though feeding a feral animal, you placed it on the ground a safe distance away and pushed it toward him.

He didn't touch it.

"Why are you giving it to me?" he whispered.

"Because you look like you need it more."

Silence stretched.

The summer cicadas screamed, the wind curled around you.

Finally he picked up the cake with both hands, as though afraid it would vanish.

He didn't eat it right away—he smelled it first, eyes fluttering shut, overwhelmed.

"Thank you," he said, and it was barely a sound.

Without asking, you took a seat beside him.

He stiffened. "You really shouldn't be here."

"Why?"

"I… I don't want to hurt you." He said it in the way children repeat impossible, frightened truths they don't understand yet — but have heard too many times.

Matching his posture, you hugged your knees and looked up at the same sky he'd been staring at.

"You won't," you said simply.

It was the first kindness anyone had offered him in months — maybe years.

He watched you from the corner of a bottom eye — this stubborn little girl who should have run from him, who should have believed the rumors, who should have kept her distance, or at the very least should have looked his deformities in the way everyone else did.

Instead you were here, sitting in the mud beside a boy the adults whispered about like a curse.

"What's your name?" you asked.

He hesitated, as though unsure he deserved to have one.

"Ryomen Sukuna… is what they call me."

Your brows furrowed a bit. "That's not very nice."

"Well it's the only name I know."

A beat.

"Fine." You smiled. "Then we're friends now."

His breath caught — because no one had ever called him that before.

He didn't know why it made his chest ache. Why it made him feel warm.

All he knew was that the girl beside him had done something dangerous, something impossible: she had made him feel human.

And somewhere deep in his small, hollow stomach, a darker feeling stirred — one he didn't yet understand, one that would one day destroy you both.

But for now, he only whispered back, "…Friends."

You met everywhere; behind the shrine where the moss crept up the stone foxes, by the river where the reeds whispered, beneath the red torii that leaned slightly from age.

Sukuna always arrived first, perched on rocks or tree roots, alert as a cornered animal.

You always arrived second, breathless from running, hands hidden in your sleeves.

Each day he was a little less wary.

You played with things children make into treasures: smooth river stones, green shoots, abandoned feathers.

He taught you which plants stung the tongue, you taught him how to fold paper boats.

At first you spoke in small bursts, like two stray cats testing if the other meant harm.

Over time he began to laugh—quiet, startled laughs, as if the sound surprised him.

When you scraped your knee, he panicked and tore his sleeve to wrap it.

When he shivered in the early morning cold, you draped one of your hemp kosodes over his shoulders and said, “You need it more.”

That was the first time he looked at you with something like awe.

The villagers still avoided him — but you did not.

And he carried every moment you smiled at him like a secret offering in his chest.

When the autumn crops failed, everyone whispered that a curse had fallen over the village.

By early winter, hunger carved sharp angles into every face.

Children collapsed in the fields, and the rice stores vanished within weeks.

But it is not winter when people begin to gnaw on their own shoes for sustenance—it is early spring, when the last of the dried stores have vanished and the new harvest has not yet ripened.

When the first springs of green push timidly through melting snow, when infant wild grasses tremble in the cold wind, when the cherry blossoms bloom in pale racemes like drifting white mist—this is the season of death.

Sukuna changed the quickest.

His eyes grew too bright, too sharp.

His breaths turned shallow and uneven.

He flinched at the sound of chewing—any chewing—like each bite tore something inside him.

He ate bark. Grass. Dirt.

Even insects and grubs pried from the frozen ground.

Nothing filled him.

And he stopped meeting you beneath the torii.

The cold made his bones ache; the hunger blurred his vision until he staggered.

So he hid in the woods like a wounded animal, terrified of his own body, terrified of the violence curling like a serpent beneath his skin.

Because whenever he thought of you—your warmth, your nearness, your kindness—his stomach twisted sharply, horribly, unbearably.

He feared himself — feared what he might do if you came too close.

You looked for him anyway.

Every day.

Even as your own ribs pressed against your skin, even as your parents scolded you for wandering, even as snow fell in soft, unlit drifts and thawed again beneath weak sunlight.

You kept a scrap of millet cake wrapped in cloth—the last bit you’d saved from the dwindling food—because you thought he needed it more than you did.

Sometimes, you swore you heard him moving between the trees.

Sometimes, you caught the shape of a shadow that might have been him.

But he never stepped out.

One evening, when the early spring light faded and the moon rose pale behind thin clouds, you found him collapsed beside a fallen cedar trunk.

He was curled in on himself, shivering, hands clenched, jaw tight like he was holding back a scream.

“Sukuna?” you whispered.

His whole body jolted.

He lifted his head.

Crimson eyes were fevered and starving, ringed with dark shadows.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he rasped. His voice sounded wrong—too deep, too strained. “You should run.”

But you knelt beside him.

He backed away on instinct, but he was too weak and fell hard onto one elbow.

Unwrapping your sleeve, you held out the last of your food.

“You need it,” you said softly.

His breath hitched.

He stared at the small piece of millet cake as if it were a trap, or a dream, or a cruel miracle.

Then he stared at you.

“You… you came to find me,” he said, almost accusingly. His lips trembled. “No one else… no one else would.”

“I told you,” you said, smiling faintly despite the cold. “We’re friends.”

Something inside him broke.

Not snapped—broke.

Like a thin ice sheet giving way.

He lunged forward—not a choice, not a thought, just a terrible, overpowering instinct—and grabbed your wrists.

Though you gasped, you didn’t pull away.

He froze, shaking violently.

“You should be scared,” he whispered, voice cracking. “Why aren’t you scared?”

“Because it’s you,” you said.

Your trust crushed him.

It filled him with warmth and horror all at once.

He tried to let go—really, truly tried—but the hunger roared in his skull. The scent of your skin, your breath, the small beating pulse in your throat—

He had been starving so long that a human brain would have stopped sending signals of hunger entirely. The body should have shut down, the craving should have died.

But Sukuna had never been fully human.

He had been born to consume.

And in that instant—looking into your wide, earnest eyes—he remembered exactly what he was.

A predator.

He didn’t want to do it.

Gods, he didn’t.

But his body remembered with brutal clarity the devastating, ravenous shape of itself and before he could stop himself, teeth were sinking into soft flesh.

It gave way so beautifully.

You screamed; he barely heard it.

The hunger had reduced him to something no better than a beast; or perhaps it had only peeled back the surface to reveal what he had always been—what everyone is—beneath all those fragile, fabricated layers of humanity.

Because in the end, everyone is only a few weeks of starvation away from meeting the monster waiting inside them.

Flesh tore and the heat of blood burned his skin almost as hot as the tears that ran down his cheeks—but he couldn't stop, not when he felt you thrashing and screaming and begging, not when he felt you starting to go limp and quiet.

He ate till his stomach was tight.

And when it was over it was like consciousness returned to him, and he collapsed beside your body, arms wrapped around your small frame like he could put you back together just by holding tight enough.

Blood stained the verdant green of young shoots that rose from the forest floor.

He rocked back and forth, forehead pressed to yours, sobbing so hard he choked and suddenly the copper of blood in his throat made him nauseous.

“I didn’t want to—I'm s-sorry— I was just hungry—" he sobbed over and over again like he was trying to explain to you, like maybe it could bring you back.

"Please wake up— please—"

But dawn came anyway, the forest was pale and quiet.

And Sukuna stayed there, holding you the way he had held you on gentle days—but now your body was cold and mauled, and the warmth in his arms was only his own shaking.

He whispered your name until his voice disappeared.

The first person who ever cared for him had become the first person he ever devoured.

Midday passed, night returned.

Even as nightingales sang from the plum blossoms, as a wayfaring crow cawed from overhead — he held you.

Only when your body had gone stiff and the cold began to sink into his bones did he finally lift his head.

His face was swollen from crying, throat raw, eyes dark and hollowed by grief and starvation and something far worse.

He whispered your name again.

No answer.

He tried to speak to you as if you were sleeping, tried to tell you stories you never got to finish, tried to warm your hands with his own.

When your fingers stayed cold, he pressed his forehead to yours and shut his eyes.

Something in him died at that moment.

Something else woke up.

Not suddenly, not in a blaze or a howl.

But in the quiet way winter steals breath.

blinkbunni

Itadori Yuji who has the most stupidest crush on the new exchange student!

Maybe it was because you looked different than anyone here at jujutsu high, or anyone in Japan. “I’m telling you, it was love at first sight when she said hi to me.” Yuji sighs, stars in his eyes with hearts spinning around him.

sipped his drink before bringing Yuji somewhat back to his senses, despite him not having any. “She said hi to everyone, Itadori.” Yuji slammed the lunch table and sprung up. “No! But she said ‘hi’ to me differently!” “Define ‘differently’.”

Nobara sighed at Yuji’s delusion. “Well… it was like.. IT WAS DIFFERENT! I should impress her somehow.” And Yuji tried everything. Handling first grade curses with ease, acting like he didn’t break a sweat as he put his hand to his mouth, yawning after ripping off a cursed spirit’s head the second you walked by.

“Oh, Yuji! Look out!”

You exclaimed and the mutant spirit had grown a body again before smacking him right in the face.

That was a fail.

His next attempt was taking the whole group (especially you) to Tokyo downtown. His mission? Show you the best movie of all time, Human Earthworm!

“Itadori, she’s gonna hate your shit.” Megumi groaned, yet Yuji was stubborn determined to make you see this cinematic masterpiece.

Only problem?

“Y/nnnn!! What’s the fashion like in your own country? I need fashion advice.” Nobara whined, clinging onto you. You chuckled, gently prying her off you. “We’re two different aesthetics Kugisaki. Besides, weren’t we gonna see a movie?”

But your last sentence was drowned out with Kugisaki exclaiming. “Hey! Let’s just go shopping! Gojo’s card!” And she yanked you away to the nearest store as she happily talked on about the new trends, leaving Yuji with his two tickets in hand.

“Damn. There goes your girl.”

Megumi unhelpfully remarked before patting him begrudgingly on the shoulder. “I’m going to find something to do. Have fun seeing worm earth human.” “It’s human earthworm!” Yuji called back to him as Megumi walked away. Well now what he was supposed to do?

Luckily, he had a new idea. “GOJO!! Do you know anyone who speaks English?” Gojo grinned. “You’re looking at moi, the English expert!” He winked. “I speak French too.”

In truth, Gojo was NOT someone who could speak English. But Yuji wouldn’t know. Each single day for a week, with Gojo’s unhelpful five minute lessons and a shit load of YouTube videos, he practiced sentences. “I.. I like… you.. you pretty so much.. yes!”

Late at night he’d practice sentence structure, pouring over translate and videos. You could even say this was the most he’s ever studied for.

His pronunciation wasn’t the best but he was confident that he set a date when he’d finally talk to you. In English. After the last mission of the day. But now as that very day was nearing to the end, and so was the mission, he found himself… nervous?! “Y/n.”

You turned around where there was a heaving Yuji, still tired from the mission but walking up to you. “Yeah? What’s up Itadori?”

Okay.. he had a whole speech memorized. He absolutely Could NOT mess this up.

“Pretty!” He blurted out.

He was going to slap himself on the face.

“Pretty?” You repeated aloud. He nodded fervently. “Yes.. you, you are so pretty! We should go to.. to..” Yuji was really struggling as he used his fingers to draw a box, playing charade with you.

“Box? Building?” You tried guessing, stifling giggles. Man, this kid was cute. “No… no.. moo..movie date! Yes! Date! Let’s go on date! I like you!” He finished triumphantly. Your eyes widened.

This kid was way too cute. You smiled and took his hand, taking note of how his cheeks turned cherry red, almost like his hair. “Alright, let’s go on a date!” You repeated, in English.

This was based on me learning English for the first time.. my sentence structure sucked and I got excited whenever I finally built a sentence that made half sense :p also! Gojo gives off Hongdae guy idk how to describe it and Megumi is hilarious being unhelpful!

siennayaps

Heaven Forbid

Best friend Satoru has started dating but why does it bother you so much?

Part-3 | Masterlist

You ignored Satoru’s text. In fact, you ignored all three texts that followed it. You stared at your screen for a good thirty seconds after receiving them, your thumb hovering over the keyboard before ultimately locking your phone and tossing it onto the opposite side of your bed.

If Satoru wanted to talk, he could wait.

Not because you were angry and definitely not because you wanted to punish him but because you genuinely did not trust yourself to have a conversation with him right now.

Every possible outcome sounded terrible. If he talked about the date, you would probably cry. If he talked about the girl, you would definitely cry.

sukunasleftbanana

frat!kuna jealous of his baby brother yuji ㄟ(≧◇≦)ㄏ

Being with Sukuna meant being with Yuji too.

And Yuji was… unfair.

He looked like someone had taken Sukuna, shrunk him down, rounded out all the sharp edges, and softened everything dangerous into something sweet. Same pink hair—just fluffier, falling into his eyes in ruffled little tufts. Same nose. Same eyes. Same scowl when he was grumpy.

Just smaller. Chubbier. Softer.

Where Sukuna was all sharp lines and muscle, Yuji was baby fat and warmth. Squishy cheeks you couldn’t resist poking. Tiny hands. Big expressive eyes that made your heart cave in instantly.

You loved him.

You’d kneel the second you saw him, arms wide open. “Hi, Yuu,” you’d coo, dragging his name out.

He’d light up immediately, toddling toward you with his teddy bear dragging behind him. “y/n!” he’d giggle, crashing straight into you.

Sukuna watched it happen every time with deep, simmering irritation.

hidingwhere

☾⋆Toji Fushiguro getting drunk in front of you for the first time

tw: drinking alcohol

Toji nursed on at least one bottle of beer a week, mainly when he was slouched lazily atop the couch, watching the races. He’d been doing it ever since the two of you started dating. However, you had never seen Toji like this.

Eyes hazy, a dreamy look in his eyes as he stepped into your shared home, tripping over his own shoes as he carelessly kicked them off, sending them flying across the room.

“Come on, you clumsy giant,” you say as he falls against the wall, glaring at it as if he was about to start a fight.

“Hm,” he huffs grumpily. “Wan’ ma.”

“Ma?”

“My girlfriend, freak,” he snaps. “Get me outta ‘ere.” He turns and heads towards the door, yanking down on the locked door handle once, twice, thrice, acting as if it would magically unlock itself if he abused it one more time. You rub your forehead in exasperation, watching Toji Fushiguro stumble around near the front door mumbling about needing his girlfriend, the man whose stare could kill hundreds. The man who has killed hundreds.

You silently approach him, tapping his arm. “Toji? It’s me. Your girlfriend.”

whosmariaaa

— another angsty/ fluffy drabble of this !

college! sukuna loved arguing with you. the entire reason why he’s so head over heels for you, is because you don’t take his shit. at all. that seriously turns a man on.

yes, he promised himself he’d never make you feel really bad ever again. but riling you up is just a little too funny to resist! especially when you fall for it each and every time, because you do kind of have a temper.

you two are in his dorm, arguing about something stupid again. sukuna’d long forgotten what the argument was even about. you secretly did too. now it was just purely because he wasn’t taking you serious.

“do i look like i’m fucking joking to you, sukuna?!” you yelled, seriously pissed off. that disgusting, stupid smirk of his was glued to his face, making your frustration a thousand times worse.

“calm your tits, sweetheart. you’re always so pissy all the time, i worry you’re going to pop a fucking blood vessel,” he mocked.

this jerk! you curled your fists into your hair, and honestly felt like pulling it all out. “what the hell is your problem, you asshole?” you snarled.

he huffed, “you’re my damn problem, y/n. you’re lucky you’re still my girl even with all those anger issues,” sukuna commented, his tone a little more harsh.

he still had a grin on his face, but his insult still hurt all the same. and you barely felt the tears building up in your eyes.

sukuna was a firm champion at getting on your nerves. he found it hilarious, his number one source of entertainment, but you were seriously contemplating pushing him out of the window.

you stared at him, eyes narrowed, nose slightly scrunched. it was quiet for a few seconds. no ordinary person would’ve noticed your eyes getting a little wet, but of course your boyfriend did.

“what? ya gonna fucking cry now over a joke, baby?” he replied meanly. “didn’t take you for a crybaby with all that attitude, hmm?” sukuna added.

okay, sure, he could’ve said worse things, but you still felt hurt. and also stupid for crying, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“whatever, man. go find yourself another girl that isn’t a crybaby then,” you sniffled. at that, sukuna paused, and his grin disappeared.

to him, you had a tendency to be dramatic, but this time, something in his stomach felt off.

you hurriedly grabbed your jacket and raced out the dorm, leaving him behind. you wiped your tears, and just… walked. not to your dorm, not to campus, just no where in particular. you were just strolling through tokyo, through the damn rain.

but after one hour of not replying to his calls or texts, or better yet, coming back, your boyfriend had started losing his shit.

sukuna was a crap boyfriend. he was a mess. but he loved you oh so dearly, even if he struggled to show you. and now he felt even worse knowing he made his poor girl cry on purpose.

the second sukuna knew you weren’t coming back for the night, he grabbed his bike and searched through tokyo’s streets for you.

he spotted you eventually. soaking wet because of the rain. hood up, eyes a little droopy. the sight made his heart feel heavy for some reason.

at the sound of sukuna’s bike, you turned your head slightly. “what?” you snapped.

“c’mere, sweetheart, let me take you home, aight?” he offered. you glared at him, and flipped him off.

“don’t be difficult, baby. i won’t be an ass anymore,” he replied.

you scoffed, “fuck outta here. leave me alone.”

sukuna surpressed a sigh at your response. “drop the fucking attitude, y/n, and get on the fucking bike,” he sneered.

you clicked your tongue, sighed… but complied. you were soaked to the bone, and honestly all you wanted to do was curl into sukuna’s arms again. not like you’d tell him.

the drive to the dorms was mostly silent. at stoplights, he’d rub your thigh with his thumb, but words weren’t really exchanged.

but, eventually sukuna cracked. “sorry, sweetheart. s’my fault for getting you so riled up,” he told you. you sniffled, “it’s okay.”

“it’s not. but i love you. and i know i’m fucking up every single chance i get from you, i fucking know. but i’m trying, okay?” he said. he grabbed your hand, and placed a kiss on it. you didn’t really reply, but sukuna knew you heard him. and for now that was enough.

safe to say, sukuna attempted to not get on your nerves as much anymore. i mean, he still did. everytime you’d yell at him or sass him, his pants would still tighten, but he started listening to you more. that man loved you more than anything, and more than anything did he want to show you.

──★˙🍓̟!! i hate this so much goodbye. idk it’s not bad but i feel like i could’ve done better. i’m sorry babe @fictionalmen4eva i tried my best, but thank you sosoosos much for the request!!!💗 i do feel like sukuna would be his girlfriend’s 1# ragebaiter just bc he can😣

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fireflyschiikawa

ex-boyfriend!sukuna : stuck in the rain

light clicks from the blinker fill the car, as sukuna diverts the vehicle to a halt on the side of the road.

rain patters down onto the glass windows, obstructing visibility.

“seems like a cloud burst” he remarks, breath fogging up the air.

engulfed as if in a cloud the windows fog up leaving you both at the mercy of each other’s company.

you damn yourself, for having ended up in such a situation.

you both sit in off-putting silence, sukuna drumming an unknown rhythm onto the steering wheel.

his gaze flicks to you and you feel it from your peripherals. the air suddenly seems charged with something else…

drawing swirls onto the window, the remnants of the fog on your finger tips linger with a chill, you try to forget about what led you here.

a chance encounter after work, you’d forgotten to bring your umbrella, he offered to drive you home and you innocently thought what could possibly go wrong?

well, everything.

v3is

hiii, I'm not really into angst and things like that but somehow your blogs made me interested, this is actually rare for me and I love itt, I think my only request is if only you could do an angst of us dying or something like that? but only if you want it, of course ><

PAIRING ✶ gojo satoru, nanami kento, ryomen sukuna x fem! reader WARNING ✶ mentions of death, angst, sukuna’s takes part in the heian period NOTE ✶ hi friend, thank you for requesting this angst t___t sorry it took so long AND thank you so much for the love, I’ve been totally swamped with uni assignments and rl works that I needed to get done hehe, anyways here is your long waited request, I hope you like it! <33

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

Satoru already had a churning feeling in the pit of his stomach the second Shoko call him over on one fine day — Shoko wouldn’t be calling if it’s not for: one, someone got hurt. Two, someone dies. And Satorus clampy hands gripped at the box of cookies he had just bought. Your favorite cookies, to be exact.

You were supposed to arrive home today, and he was amidst a little shopping spree for you. It wasn’t particularly a long mission, but he just absolutely love to spoil his girlfriend. You. So, when Shoko called him, his initial thought was that you had gotten hurt.

So, of course it would only be appropriate if Satoru stopped, dropped everything, and teleported to where Shoko would usually be lounging in. Shoko was smoking a cigar, her elbows were pressed onto the metal railings and her eyes looked tired — They always do, but for some reason, they looked even more tired than they usually would.

Satoru stood right by her side, hands in his pockets, “What happened?”

Shoko blew out a puff of smoke, “Don’t say anything before I finish.” She firstly warned, and Satoru said nothing, his heart already beating miles a second, each beat a prayer to the Gods that it wasn’t about you, “It’s about (Name).”

Fuck. Satoru thought, “Where is she?”

Shoko shakes her head. “She’s not coming back.”

It was just some kind of prank, right? Satoru chuckles, shaking his head in return. He knew how much of a joker you could be sometimes — And he didn’t forget about the really big prank he did on you last month, you promised that you were going to get him back for that one someday. Maybe it was now, definitely this time.

hidingwhere

— Feeding Sukuna’s stomach mouth

You stared curiously at the peculiar muscle on your husband’s toned stomach, currently closed as he naps beneath you on his chaise lounge. One finger reaches forward, lightly tapping against the outline of the mouth before pulling back.

To your surprise, it opens, lips curling into a cocky grin before it starts… speaking?! Its voice is deep and matches Sukuna’s perfectly, large tongue flicking out.

“Curious, hm?” It drawls slowly, flashing the sharp canines that had been hidden just seconds ago. You lean over to the nearby table, pulling a strawberry from the box and holding it tentatively near the mouth.

“Do you eat food?” You asked, sounding a little stupid talking to your husband’s stomach.

It laughs lightly, lips spreading in amusement. “I do, woman. What do you have in mind? A finger? An arm?”

You grimace. “Ew. No, I have a strawberry.” You press the tip of the strawberry against the tongue, watching it pull the fruit from your grip and chew loudly, red juice staining the sharp teeth.

You watch mesmerised at the unusual body part, noting how expressive it was and how it still managed to work even when Sukuna himself was asleep.

“Do you want another?”

“Hm.” The mouth hums for a second before the tongue flicks out and presses down flat against your two fingers resting against his lower abdomen.

Hesitantly, you lift them, saliva coating your fingers as Sukuna’s mouth stomach sucks on them greedily as if trying taste their flavour. You’re sat in awe, entranced as lewd sucking sounds fills the room.

“Ngh-“ Ryomen grunts suddenly, arm lifting from over his eyes as they flicker open. Immediately, his mouth pulls away from your fingers, closing innocently and leaving you both dumbfounded and aroused.

“What are you doing, wife?”

“Nothing, Kuna,” you lie.

hidingwhere

the amount of people saying they love this concept stop i’m giggling sm

frogs-crackcorner

Brain bugs got me...

What about Sukuna who doesn't like sweets. Claims that such childish things are beneath him. But the mouth on his stomach... absolutely loves them. Many nights, after Sukuna falls asleep on the couch during the movie, you split your treats with his second mouth. You'll tear the pastry you got in half, feeding one side to the mouth. And after you've finished your half, it insists on licking your fingers clean. It's tongue sliding between your fingers before sucking on them. And every night, it always complains that what you gave it wasn't sweet enough. If only you knew what it really wanted..

thebussyinspector

Large hybrid snowleopard!reader x gojo? I always see those on here but it's almost never reversed 😔

possessive snow leopard reader x Gojo

masterlist

a/n: I hope this is good I haven't read anything about snow leopard gojo/ reader yet 👩🏾‍🦯

"You're a good little kitty," Satoru would say, and everyone hearing him would frown in disbelief. To him, you were as sweet as a cube of sugar. Adorable. An absolute cutie. And he'd say it all with a smile on his face, beaming at you, petting you. But he had no idea what kind of beast you could become when someone dared to take his attention away from you.

Also, whenever Gojo called you "little," his friends would choke on their own saliva. You were anything but a helpless little kitten, more like big, dangerous, and deranged. You were a predator, after all, but Satoru seemed to forget quite often.

One afternoon, when he came home, you were so excited, thinking you would get to spend some time with him, your face fell when someone stepped in through the door behind him. You were just about to jump on Gojo and lick him all over. But no, you were rudely interrupted by his long-haired friend, whom you didn't care to remember the name of.

The second the door closed behind his friend, you growled at him, low, steady, rumbling in your throat. His eyes widened in fear, and Gojo chalked it up to the fact that you might not like his scent. Yeah, you didn't like anything about him, really. Gojo put down his bag, opening his arms wide, nodding you over. And immediately you rushed over, wrapping yourself in his arms. And aww, you were rubbing yourself against him (trying to get your scent all over him, marking your territory, marking what's yours), and he giggled, pulling you even closer.

His friend stood there awkwardly, rolling his eyes when you glared at him. “Missed you,” you muttered into the crook of his shoulder as he rubbed your back soothingly.

You had no idea why you acted the way you did whenever one of his friends came over. Luckily, he never noticed how crazy over him you were. His black-haired friend would tell him he needed to get you checked. There was definitely something going on with you. His brunette friend would tell him to be careful. You were a dangerous hybrid after all.

Whenever they said things like that, it broke your heart a little. You, needing to get checked? But there was nothing wrong with you. It wasn't your fault they were paying into your territory, touching your prey, your Satoru. They had no right to come into eternity, both of you.

That's what you thought to yourself while both of them were sitting on his living room couch, trying to watch a game together. But when his friend rested his hand on Gojo's shoulder briefly, you rushed into his lap, nuzzling into his stomach. But oh, you're way too big to sit in his lap.

Does he mind, though? No. Never. He could never mind. You purred against him, ears twitching, softly, fluffy tail curling around him. Huffing tiredly as he ran his hand down your back. ‘’Someone seems quite tired.” He whispered, laughing teasingly.

Geto rolled his head once again. He couldn't believe his friend was falling for your act. Before he could let out an annoyed sigh, one of your eyes opened sneakily without Gojo seeing, and you stuck out your tongue at him.

You were an absolute menace. If you couldn't make Gojo hang out with you only, you'd make the people he was hanging out with feel miserable.

satorus-princess

“uh… why is sensei doing push-ups?” yuji asks, when he, nobara, and megumi enter the classroom.

satoru’s pushing himself up and down with one hand because, according to you, normal push-ups weren’t enough. but even then, he’s barely breaking a sweat. and he’s grinning, while you stand over him, watching with your arms crossed.

his uniform jacket is folded over the back of a chair, leaving him in his compression shirt, arm bulging and back tensing with each lift and fall of his body.

“i upset my-- hah beautiful, smart-- hah strong, gorgeous, perfect wife,” he pants, “punishment fits the crime.”

he really is right where he wants to be.

megumi doesn’t even bat an eye - this was the least unusual thing that you and satoru do. he slides into a chair with a sigh.

“how many does he have to do?”

“a hundred,” you say. satoru lifts his head to look up at you, mouth parted, little pink hearts in his eyes peering at you over the rim of his glasses. “he’s on seventy-two.”

his grin widens. “you know, this isn’t a challenge for me. why don’t you sit on my back, sweetheart?”

you crouch down in front of him and his eyes light up. “i know what you want, and you don’t deserve my touch.” you push his head down so he’s facing the floor again, and he grunts when you press extra weight, forcing his body down. “only twenty-three left. you can do it, my love.”

if his heart wasn’t beating fast enough before, it definitely was now. especially with the saccharine tone you used at the end of your sentence.

god, was he down bad.

“… call us when you’re done,” megumi says, already out of the classroom.

silly thought inspired by this video HAHA can you tell he makes me a little a lot insane

6x-x9

-`♡´- Riding Choso silly in his dorm... ! :: 18+ :: fem!reader ::

Your boyfriend Choso is sprawled on his narrow dorm bed, sheets already twisted beneath his back, sweat glistening on his pale skin. The room is dim, only the desk lamp casting a soft glow over his messy hair and those dark amber eyes that keep fluttering half-shut every time you shift. His roommate’s out for the night, but the thin walls mean voices carry, and Choso knows it. He’s biting his lip so hard it’s turning white, trying so damn hard to stay quiet like a good boy.

You’re straddling him, thighs spread wide over his hips, your slick cunt already stretched around the thick head of his cock. He’s so hard it aches, fat and heavy, pulsing inside you as you sink down another inch. A broken little whimper slips from his throat before he can swallow it.

“Shh,” you whisper, voice low and sweet and so fucking mean. You roll your hips slow, letting him feel every ridge as you take him deeper. “Be quiet, baby. Your friends are right next door. You don’t want them to hear how loud you get when I fuck you, do you?”

Choso’s hands fly to your waist, fingers digging in like he’s drowning. “F-fuck… I’m trying,” he gasps, voice cracking. His cock twitches hard inside you, leaking more precum into your dripping heat. “You feel too good… can’t… ah—”

You cut him off by lifting yourself up until just the tip is kissing your entrance, then dropping back down in one smooth glide. The wet sound of your pussy swallowing him is obscene in the quiet room. Choso’s head snaps back against the pillow, a strangled moan tearing out of him before he slaps a hand over his own mouth.

“See?” you tease, grinding down deep, clit rubbing against his pelvis. You lean forward just enough to let your tits brush his chest, nipples hard and dragging over his skin. “That’s what happens when you’re loud. They’ll know exactly what a needy little slut you are for your girlfriend’s cunt.”

He whines behind his palm, hips jerking up involuntarily. “Please… don’t stop,” he mumbles, words muffled. His eyes are glassy, cheeks flushed dark. “I need it… need you riding me harder.”

You smile, all sugar and cruelty, and start bouncing properly now. Up and down, slow at first, then faster, the slap of skin on skin growing louder no matter how much he tries to hold back. Every time you sink down, his fat cock splits you open so perfectly, dragging against that spot that makes your toes curl. Choso’s breathing is ragged, little punched-out sounds escaping with every thrust.

“Quiet,” you remind him again, voice dripping honey as you clench around him on purpose. “Or I’ll have to stop and leave you like this, all hard and dripping and desperate.”

“No—no, please,” he begs, voice breaking into a whimper. His fingers bruise your hips, trying to pull you down harder. “I’ll be good, I swear… just don’t stop fucking me.”

You ride him like that for a while, mean little laughs slipping out when he fails miserably at staying silent. His moans keep spilling out, deep and wrecked, turning into these pretty, desperate noises that make your pussy flutter around him. Then, just when he’s starting to lose it, you lift off completely. His cock slaps wetly against his stomach, shiny with your juices, throbbing angrily in the cool air.

Choso lets out a devastated sound, eyes flying open. “Wait—baby, what are you—”

You swing your leg over and turn around, settling into reverse cowgirl. The view is perfect for him now. You reach back, spread your ass a little with one hand, and let him watch as you line his fat cock up with your dripping hole. Slowly, so slowly, you sink down, letting every inch disappear inside you while he stares.

“Oh my god,” Choso groans, long and filthy. His hands immediately grab your hips again, thumbs pressing into the dimples at the small of your back. “Look at that… your pretty cunt taking me so deep. Fuck, I can see everything.”

You lean forward, arching your back like a lazy kitten, ass up and chest pressed to his thighs. The new angle has his cock hitting even deeper, bullying right against your cervix with every tiny shift. “Then fuck me, Choso,” you purr, voice teasing. “Show me how bad you want it. Make me feel it.”

He snaps.

His grip tightens and he starts thrusting up into you, hard and fast, the bed creaking under the force. The wet slap of his hips meeting your ass fills the room now, no holding back. Every stroke is deep, punishing, his balls smacking against your clit. You can feel him losing control completely, hips stuttering, cock swelling even thicker inside you.

“Shit—shit, you’re so tight,” he pants, voice raw. “Taking my cock like such a good girl… fuck, I’m gonna—ah—gonna cum if you keep squeezing me like that.”

You moan softly, pushing back to meet his thrusts, letting him fuck up into you like an animal. “Then cum, baby. Fill me up. But don’t you dare get loud. Your friends might hear what a mess you make when you’re buried in my pussy.”

Choso’s rhythm falters, a broken cry ripping from his throat despite your warning. “Can’t… can’t help it,” he sobs, pounding harder. “You’re too much… too wet, too perfect… fuck, I love you, I love your cunt so much—”

He’s gone now, hips snapping up wildly, chasing that edge. You clench around him on purpose, milking him, and that’s all it takes. Choso buries himself to the hilt with one last desperate thrust, his cock pulsing as he spills hot and thick inside you. Rope after rope, flooding your pussy while he whimpers and moans your name like a prayer, trying and failing so miserably to stay quiet.

You ride out the last of his orgasm, grinding back slow, feeling him twitch and leak inside you. When he finally collapses back against the sheets, chest heaving, you glance over your shoulder with a wicked little smile.

“See what happens when you can’t behave?” you murmur, voice soft and teasing. “Next time I might have to gag you… or maybe I’ll just let your friends listen to how pretty you sound when you fall apart for me.”

Choso just whines, pulling you down against him, still buried deep, already half-hard, like the needy boy he is, pressing soft loving kisses along your neck getting oh so desperate for you all over again.

9x-x6

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mimujus

your snow leopard hybrid boyfriend satoru gets the zoomies (・∀・)

the first crash happens at 2:17 in the morning.

you know this because the sound is so loud, so violent, so utterly destructive, that you jolt awake with your heart in your throat and immediately slap around your bedside table for your phone like a woman being hunted.

your screen lights up: 2:17am.

from the living room comes a second crash. then a thump. then the unmistakable sound of enormous paws skidding across hardwood.

you stare at the ceiling, questioning your life choices.

“toru.”

silence, too much silence.

you sit up slowly, clutching the blanket to your chest. “satoru.”

a blur of white and grey shoots past the bedroom doorway making you blink. then two seconds later, it shoots past again in the opposite direction.

oh.

oh, no.

“satoru, are you having zoomies?”

there is a pause. then a deep, chirping trill echoes from the hallway, sealing your fate.

you groan and fall back against the pillows.

because snow leopard zoomies are not like house cat zoomies. house cat zoomies involve little claws, frantic hallway laps, maybe one knocked-over cup if the cat is feeling malicious. snow leopard zoomies involve a creature the size of a very expensive couch launching himself through your apartment like a furry missile with abandonment issues.

another thunderous thump shakes the wall and you finally throw the blanket off and stumble out of bed.

the hallway is dim, silvered by moonlight sneaking through the blinds. somewhere in the apartment, claws click against the floor as satoru scrambles for traction.

then he appears.

a massive snow leopard skids around the corner, fluffy tail whipping behind him like a banner. his pale blue eyes are enormous, pupils blown wide. his ears are perked. his mouth is slightly open in what can only be described as a deranged little grin.

he freezes when he sees you.

you freeze too.

“hi,” you say slowly.

his tail gives one excited lash.

“no.”

he crouches.

“satoru, no.”

his back end wiggles.

“do not pounce on me.”

he pounces anyway.

though not fully. even in his most unhinged animal form, some part of him is always careful with you. he lands short, front paws slapping against the floor right in front of your feet, shoulders low, tail lashing. then he springs backwards, head tossing like he’s challenging you.

ellies-mullet

Virgin!Choso is pathetic in bed

a/n: finals kicked my ass. I’ll prob rewrite this at some point. Based on this request. Requests are open!

“You’ll tell me if you want to stop, right?” You asked quietly, tilting your head to one side. You were seated on Choso’s lap, slowly grinding your clothed cunt on his painful erection.

You slid against him with almost no resistance. The both of you were fully nude, with the exception of your barely there thong still hanging onto your cunt.

White, milky precum leaked down his dick, his obvious state of arousal completely on show, just for you.

He muttered a yes, his voice shaking with the nervousness of the virgin he, unfortunately, was.

His hips jumped when he heard you make the prettiest sound. A quiet moan that slipped past your lips as your soaked underwear moved to reveal your bare pussy.

“Fuck… I-I’m sorry,” he panted quietly, almost frantically, scared that he had messed up. “I didn’t mean to-“

His apologies were shushed when you leaned forward, breasts dragging against his sculpted chest. He moaned loudly, the over sensitive state of his body catching the trail your erect nipples made as you made your way up his body.

“Oh God, I-”

Your lips caught his in a burning kiss, swallowing his nonsense apologies.

“Do you feel good, Cho?” You asked, brushing your lips down his chin, down to his jugular. “Do I make you feel good?”

Your voice was dipped in honey, sweet and smooth. Like a siren, it was the only thing he could hear besides his erratic heartbeat that thundered in his ears.

“Yes,” he moaned, voice cracking. “Y-Yes, you’re so perfect.”

Your lips felt warm against Choso's skin as you sucked and licked your way down his neck. Hot, red bruises were already beginning to show on his pale, milky skin, but it only made him grow harder.

His hands clenched the sheets at his sides, choking on low groans and praises he wanted to spoil you with.

You leaned up and tossed your panties aside. “I don’t want you to come until I say so, Cho. Can you do that for me?”

Choso nodded his head, pupils blown. “Anything, I’ll do anything.”

He watched you as you lined yourself up with his cock, your face overwhelmed with lust and anticipation.

The second his tip met your entrance, his cock began to throb painfully.

"S-shit...oh...oh God, you're so warm, oh fuck." His hands roughly landed on your hips, using them as an anchor to keep himself from rutting up into you.

He was thick and big and you were taking all of him. He watched you rock yourself down his cock, splitting yourself open as his length disappeared inside you.

You closed your eyes as you descended, trying to get used to the almost impossible stretch.

“You’re so tight, oh fuck, baby, I’m-“

“Hold it for me, baby. Can you do that? Hm?” You asked, you voice pitched and quivering from how full you already were.

He could hardly hear you over the lewd noise of you slowly sliding down his precum lathered dick.

“Baby-“

His jaw went slack as you finally bottomed out, a quiet squelch being heard as your hips met his. He caught sight of the outline of his dick in your stomach and moaned your name. All he could feel was ecstasy and heat.

The intense feeling of his dick finally being suffocated by your warm, velvety walls was too much to bear.

Before you could move at all, before you had even adjusted to his size, warm spurts of cum were shooting into you.

Choso could only see stars. Pleasure rocked through his body as the most pathetic moans sounded throughout the small bedroom.

He thrusted up involuntarily, draining everything he had into you.

As his breaths slowed down, he was violently brought back to reality when he felt you begin to grind down on his overstimulated dick.

He was still terribly hard, but his orgasm had left him spent and sensitive.

He groaned almost painfully. His back arched off the bed as he wrenched his eyes open to see you, slightly smirking and tits bouncing.

“We’re not done yet, Cho.”

megumios

choso just needs a little help ୨୧ choso kamo x fem!reader ୨୧ i need him to mark me

you wake up to slobbery tits and a whimpering boy beside you. choso rubs his bulge against your hips while he whines against your nipple. he doesn't realize you're awake till you tangle your fingers in his hair.

he pulls off of you quickly, looking down in shame.

"it's okay, cho." you comfort him, pulling his face back down onto your nipple. "keep going."

his lips latch onto your nipple quickly, sucking and licking while rubbing his bulge harder on your hips. whines escape his throat as he uses you to fix his little problem.

he releases your nipple from his mouth and gives a harsh suck on the side of your boob. you let out a whimper, smiling at the whiny boy.

he starts to mark every part of your chest till you're covered in purple marks.

his bulge ruts sloppily against your hips. you reach down, pushing past his waistband and grabbing his cock. it's hot and hard. your thumb meets the tip, wet with precum.

choso whines. throwing his head into your neck and whining some more. "please—h-help."

you smile, teasing his leaking tip with your thumb. he twitches, whimpering about how good you feel.

"wanna be inside." he mumbles. you shake your head. "not yet, cho."

he whines and you swipe your thumb on his tip with a bit of pressure. he immediately lets out a pathetic moan, curling into your side and using your hand to get off.

he cums quickly, sighing and whimpering in your ear. you keep your hand around his heavy cock, waiting for him to come down his high so you can do it again.

this sucks but sue me

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