your loser ex has your name tattooed on his chest. and he isn’t above begging to get you back.
you stared at your tv, a tub of ice cream in hand while watching the ridiculous boxing match play on the screen. and just like clockwork, the pink haired man won, pumping his fists into the air while everyone cheered him on.
sukuna fucking ryomen.
your pathetic ex, the sad sloppy excuse of a man (or so you liked to tell yourself), the self centred prick who still thrived off of the chaos and adrenaline of a good fight, was unfortunately still as hot as ever. sweat slicked down his back, his tattoos catching the lights around the ring while he was declared the winner. it was all the same until you noticed the fresh letters carved onto his chest.
pretty letters that unmistakably spelled out your name. and knowing his body and every inch of it, you knew that that wasn’t there before. this fucking loser. had you permanently etched on your skin. and just as you were about to frantically dial his number to give him an earful, he looked riiight at the camera—
“hey y/n. i know you’re watching this. stop ignoring my calls, baby.”
oh he was dead fucking meat.
you knew that it’d be mere minutes before he showed up at your doorstep—the same cycle of him begging to have you back, only to go back to his theatrically crafted suave persona.
and just like clockwork, about an hour later—riiiing!
you opened the door only to find sukuna, still drenched in sweat, standing at your doorway with a comically large bouquet in hand.
“are you fucking insane?”
“i take it that you saw my tattoo.”
you eyed him up and down, barely hiding your distaste—until he dropped to his knees before you.
“what the fuck are you doing. GET UP.”
“please, baby please i’ll do anything to get you back.”
he was down on the ground, your neighbours whispering while the renowned boxer hugged your legs, his head buried in your thighs, the bouquet he got long forgotten on the floor.
“please.”
he was begging now, kneeling before you while his eyes brimmed with tears. and a sick sick part of you made your heart skip a beat.
he was desperate, your name etched on his chest, on his knees, hugging your legs as if that’d ground you to him.
“is this because no one wants to fuck you anymore?” you snorted and he looks at you almost as if you slapped him across the face.
“c’mon doll, you know that’s not true.”
“pathetic.” you spat out, his face flushing a deep shade the moment you said it.
“you still have they repressed degradation kink i see. stupid fucking masochist.”
fuck.
“please—.”
“your begging needs improvement. we’ll see how good you do when i have you gagged and sobbing.” you cooed and you swore you could see his sweats tent just the slightest.
you were going to turn the boxing ring’s forbidden ryomen sukuna, into your pathetic, whiny little slut. and he was going to enjoy every second of it.
GRAAH. i like pathetic men. hehe.
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.
pms? tender breasts? don't worry, your ꒰devoted꒱ boyfriend satoru gojo is happy to be your personal bra for the day ౨ৎ 1.1k
fluff ; crack ; suggestive art by @/Rezijellyfish0
It was a morning like any other.
You woke up curled right into your boyfriend Satoru Gojo's side, practically on top of him on the comfortable double bed. You didn't really have much room, not with his habit of lying down like a starfish, but you couldn't blame him – his long limbs just needed to take up all the space every night, and so you were forced to use your boyfriend as a pillow, of course.
Your favourite pillow.
You were awfully comfortable like this, nuzzling into his broad chest as the morning light started to bleed in through the half open window. Yes, so comfortable you could just drift away again... until.
Until those long limbs started to close in towards you.
That was another one of his morning habits, you see. Even for how spread out he liked to sleep, as soon as Satoru started to drift back into consciousness – you were the first thing he'd search for.
In his half asleep haze he closed his arms around you, squeezing you into him with all his might, letting out the most satisfied of hums. Not you, however – the sound that escaped your mouth was somewhere between a yelp and a cry for help.
"Baby?!" Satoru sprung into consciousness in a second. "What's wrong?!"
His bright blue eyes snapped open to see you pouting at him, hands over your already very sore breasts that he had painfully squeezed against his side. "Oh" he frowned, understanding. "It's that week, isn't it?"
You nodded slowly, letting Satoru manoeuvre you on your back so he could rest on his elbow next to you. When you first found out he was tracking your cycle you did call him a freak, but to be honest, it was worth it with how gentle he was with you now.
"Is it really bad?" he asked, tracing soft lines over your collarbone with his free hand. His touch was feather light, his hand apologising to your tender skin.
"It hurts" you exhaled, letting your head sink into the pillow with a long sigh. "They feel heavy"
"Heavy?" Satoru echoed, very obviously looking down to your chest. Naturally, you pinched him. "Ow! What was that for?"
"I'm in pain and you want to check if they're bigger?!" you growled, ready to throw a pillow right on his stupid white hair.
"No no no, you know I think they’re perfect” Satoru apologised immediately, peppering kisses all over your face. "It was for science only"
"Sure" you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't keep the angry act for long, not with your boyfriend's puppy dog eyes so close to your face.
"I mean it, I only want to help" he said, sitting up. And you did believe him – your boyfriend had been trying his best since he figured out how difficult pms was for you.
Last month, he even bought you a personalised hot water bottle with both your initials on it. Baby blue, of course.
You weren't sure who else would be confusing their hot water bottle for yours anyway, but its the gesture that counts.
"Come here baby, I'll help you up" he called to you with wide open arms, but as soon as he started to pull you up, you groaned again. "Is it that bad?" he grimaced, seeing your hands go back to holding onto your sore breasts.
Unfortunately, it was.
"It's ok" you tried to deflect, feeling bad for how worried he seemed. "You don't have to worry about m–"
"None of that" Satoru pouted. "Does that help?" he nodded to your hands, clearly some sort of plan starting to form in that head of his.
"Kind of" you replied, massaging yourself. "Should probably put on a bra" you sighed.
"In bed?!" Satoru shook his messy white hair side to side. "It's unfair" he completed solemnly. And you agreed with him.
But then he opened up his mouth again, with that tone he employed when he was going to suggest something... unusual.
"Why don't you...let me help?"
That made you stop halfway, turning up to look at him. "What do you mean?"
"Just… come here" he said, extending those pale fingers to you. You had one raised eyebrow, but let him do what he had intended – and soon his large palms were closing around your breasts.
"Pervert" you deadpanned.
"You said it helped!" he argued.
You took a moment, considering. You were very used to your boyfriend touching you everywhere, of course, but you had never seen him look so commited about it. It was almost endearing, in a kind of, um, odd way.
"So, what, you'll just be my personal bra today?" you teased.
"If you want me to" he nodded.
"Aren't your arms getting tired?" you narrowed your eyes at him.
"Baby, this is what I train for" he replied smugly.
You let out a little laugh, enjoying your boyfriend's silly plan and how serious he was about it. "You can't possibly keep this up" you joked.
"Wanna bet?"
You shouldn't have said yes. But of course you did.
The rest of the day was spent with Satoru glued to you – more so than usual. "You're enjoying this" you poked him as he stood with his chin on top of your head and his hands right where he promised they'd be, watching you make your morning coffee.
"You wound me, princess" he pretended to sigh. "This is for your own good"
Sure it was.
Later you sat down to watch TV, and Satoru placed you right on his lap, before his hands returned to your chest. "You're ridiculous" you laughed, his chin heavy on your shoulder this time and your back to his chest.
"Is it helping?" he asked.
In truth, it was. He was warm and soft and much more comfortable than a real bra; and walking around like you had been cursed into attachment was lifting your mood as much as it was annoying you too.
His eccentric ways were just one of the things you loved about your boyfriend, after all.
Of course, this all got a bit too ridiculous when you announced you were going to shower, and got followed by the white haired giant all the way into the bathroom. "You can't be serious" you looked up at him.
"I only want to hel–Ow! Ok, I'll be outside"
You laughed, seeing his pout as he closed the door behind him. It was adorable how devoted he was to this stupid plan – and you also couldn't deny you missed his loving touch as soon as he had let go of you.
Maybe he could help you shower too. He only wanted you to feel better, right?
"Satoru" you called, not even surprised when the door opened before you had even finished saying his name.
"Need me?" he grinned from ear to ear.
You would have pinched him again if he wasn't so damn adorable.
my boobs feel like they're about to explode and this is what came of it I don't know what else to say
usually, before bed, sukuna slides his hand down your panties, placing his large hand over your mound and keeping it there. why? whenever you build up the courage to ask, he simply just shoots you a sharp glance, saying "it’s warm. stop asking questions, woman."
imagine his surprise when he mindlessly slides his hand down, only to feel you were completely bald down there this time.
you’ve never seen sukuna so genuinely confused. his usually bored, irritated expression had faded, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
"brat, where is it."
you look over at him, shrugging. "where’s what?"
he feels around a little more, double checking, nope — not a single hair. “don’t play dumb with me, woman. the hair. where is it."
you were just as confused as he was. did he really love your bush that much?
“i shaved it?…" you respond, watching a slight frown form on his face, similar to a grumpy cat — honestly, anyone else would look at him and assume his entire family had been killed or something.
in your defense, you just felt like changing it up, assuming he wouldn’t care much at all. if you knew it’d affect him this much, you wouldn’t have plucked even a singular hair away.
"why the hell would you do that," he growls, his initial confusion quickly turning into irritation. “put it back, i don’t find this amusing."
you can’t help but let out a soft giggle, feeling sukuna pull his hand out from beneath your panties, two arms crossing in silent annoyance like a kid who’d just had their candy stolen.
"kuna’, it’ll grow back… i didn’t realise you liked it so much," you smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. his expression remains the same, though he doesn’t push you away, silently accepting your affection.
"don’t let this happen again," he demands.
"awwh! you miss it," you tease, poking his chest playfully. he catches your wrist in his hand, grip demanding, yet not firm enough to hurt.
You had been making out with your boyfriend for the larger part of some bad horror movie.
Things had gotten heated and you found yourself laying on your back, a cushion shoved underneath your hips and a hungry looking Sukuna tugging your sweatpants down.
"Babe." He suddenly paused, your panties pulled to the side.
"What?" You pout, trying to sit up and see what his sudden hesitance was about.
"The fuck is this? Why is she bald?"
"Bald- Suku! Cmon, stop messing around." You groan, flopping back down, your hands tugging on his hair.
You could feel him use his free hand to trace his fingers below your tummy, fingers grazing over a few razor bumps, but mainly the freshly shaven pubic hair area.
Sukuna looked like a kicked puppy, a deep frown pulling at his lips. "Babe, i want it back. Why'd you shave? It looked so good..."
"What the hell are you talking about? I had my everything shower last night and i though i should shave fully for once, yknow. Feel a bit more put together."
His tongue licked across the smooth skin, making you jolt and lift your hips up higher.
"I liked the way it tickled my face while i was eating you out... grow it back." he pouted against your soft flesh.
"Stop complaining and do something already!"
A cheap shriek and jumpscare from the movie playing made you roll your eyes, nudging your hips up again, trying to show him where you wanted some attention.
"Fine, but i'm punishing you for getting rid of her hair."
Yoon's notes: HE WANTS UR COOCH HAIR BACK GODDAMNIT
I got insp for this from scrumptious_chowder on tiktok I LOVE THEM
Also @liliklei ........
☣︎ Crazy gf!reader giving Boyfriend!Sukuna shit during sex
“Fuck, look at you,” he rasps, rough hands spreading your ass to see the way your sloppy pussy sucks him in.
Face buried in the sheets, you muffle out, “I can’t.”
Sukuna’s brows knit momentarily, but then you clench down on him so hard it pulls a sharp inhale of air from him and he forgets all about it. “Been thinking about this needy pussy all day. Such a dirty girl, isn’t she?”
“I keep her clean, actually,” you drawl, fingers drumming. “Took a shower right before you came too, so if anyone’s dirty, it’s not me or my kitty.”
His eye twitches. Then he takes a deep breath and continues ploughing his fat cock inside, making sure to prod that gummy spot you love so much. “Yeah? Got yourself all clean and dolled up for me? Aren’t you sweet? My best girl, ain’t ya?”
You still.
Slowly, you turn around — if you were a door, you’d be creaking loud as fuck right now. “What. Did. You. Say?”
“Oh, hell,” Sukuna exhales out. He pulls out at the same time you come to face him, glaring. Leaning back on his haunches, he runs a hand through his hair and asks, “What did I do wrong now, woman?”
You poke him right in the chest, where a tattoo of your name is marked clear as day. “‘Best girl?’ ‘Best girl.’ Really?” you scoff. “I’m your only girl. Who the fuck am I competing with? Who’s second best? Third? Is there a fourth? A fifth? And who’s last? Oh, I wouldn’t wanna be her. Unless, I am her on any other day because you switch us around. Wow! You’re a disloyal piece of shit. What did the other girls do to deserve this?”
Sukuna’s raging boner? Dies.
He watches it with some pity. Sighing, he falls back on the bed and stares up at the ceiling. He knows, once you start, there’s no getting you to stop. With a roll of his eyes, he yanks you onto his chest, smushing you. His heavy arm doesn’t let you up, try as you might. “Shhh, you little psycho. It’s alright. We’ll get you back on your meds soon. You’re gonna be okay.”
“No, seriously,” you say, slapping him on the abs once, and again when he doesn’t even flinch. “Who’re the others? Lemme meet them. I have a lot to say with my fists. I’m gonna kill them and you, Ryomen!” you threaten right into his pec.
Sukuna pats your back.
“Let’s start with the voices in your head first, dumbass.”
♡ You wake up from anesthesia and forget Sukuna is your boyfriend
You Get Your Wisdom Teeth Out
Sukuna’s in the waiting room when the nurse comes out looking stressed. “Your girlfriend’s awake. Good luck.”
He finds you in the recovery chair and you immediately point at him “You”
He crosses his arms, already bracing himself for whatever’s about to happen.
“You’re that guy from my dreams.” You squint at him like “Are you real or am I hallucinating again?”
“Again?” His eyebrow raises, genuinely curious now.
You try to stand up. He pushes you back down with one hand on your shoulder.
You gasp “Did you just TOUCH me?”
“We’re dating.” He says it flatly, wondering how much of this conversation you’re actually going to remember.
“We are?”
He pulls out his phone, already recording, because there’s no way in hell he’s not documenting this.
“WAIT.” You’re staring at him now, dead serious “I have to tell you something important.”
“What.” He’s still recording, trying to keep the phone steady while you gather your thoughts at the speed of a sedated sloth.
“I’m in a relationship.” You announce
“With me.”
“Nooo with…. ” You stop. Process “Oh shit, you’re right. Oh my god. I have a hot boyfriend and nobody told me?”
He’s trying not to laugh, his shoulders shaking slightly as he keeps the camera trained on your face.
You start crying, and he has no idea what triggered this. “You’re so beautiful it makes me angry.”
“What?” He’s completely lost the thread of this conversation.
You’re tearing up more now, “Like it’s not fair. I wanna bite you.”
“You wanna what?” He definitely heard you wrong. There’s no way…
“BITE you. Like a little bite. On the arm. Can I bite you?” You’re dead serious, looking at his arm like it’s a three course meal.
“No.” He says it firmly, the same tone he’d use on a misbehaving dog.
You’re fully sobbing now “You don’t love me anymore.”
“Okay, okay, you can bite me later.”
Damage control mode activated.
You stop crying immediately, like someone flipped a switch. “Really?”
“Sure.”
“You promise?” You hold out your pinky, very solemn about this sacred vow.
“I promise.” He links his pinky with yours
“Okay good.” You wipe your face with the back of your hand “I’m gonna bite you sooo good.”
He gets you to the car.
You’re staring out the window now, transfixed. “The trees are moving really fast.” You say
“That’s because we’re driving.” He’s keeping his eyes on the road, but he can see you in his peripheral vision, tracking the trees like a cat watching birds.
“No I think they’re chasing us.”Your voice is rising in pitch, genuine panic setting in.
“They’re not….”
“DRIVE FASTER THEY’RE GAINING ON US.”
You’re gripping the door handle now, looking behind you like you’re in a high speed chase.
When you get home you won’t let go of his arm, clinging to it with both hands like he’s a life raft.
He’s trying to steer you toward the couch, which is difficult when you’re actively anchored to his bicep.
You look at him all sincere and stupid with your chipmunk cheeks. “I love you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
His lips twitch like he’s trying not to smile.
“Go to sleep,” he mutters, setting you on the couch.
“I love you too” he says when you’re asleep, drooling on his shoulder.
You wake up hours later, mouth dry and head fuzzy. Sukuna shows you the video.
You watch, face getting progressively redder with each passing second.
“Delete that right now.”
“Absolutely not” He’s absolutely loving this, the bastard, barely containing his smirk.
You throw a pillow at his head with more force than necessary.
He catches it one handed, still smiling like an asshole.
A/n: Your Reblogs and comments are appreciated 🫶🏻✨
satoru gojo is quite literally the worst person on earth to try and have a silent treatment with.
of course, he knows you’re mad, he knows he fucked up - but he also knows that if he can make your life "unbelievably" inconvenient, you’ll eventually have to break the silence just to tell him to stop.
here's the thing; you haven’t spoken to him in twelve hours.
you are a fortress of solitude, him?
he is a persistent, white-haired fly that cannot be swatted away because of his infinity or maybe a mosquito; sucking your energy out instead of blood.
he realised (unfortunately he is capable of realising things) that as long as you are self-sufficient, you can keep ignoring him. therefore, he must delete your ability to function.
it's 9am, you wake up and try to get out of bed - you can't.
no, not because he’s holding you, but because he has lowered the friction of the floor around your bed to exactly zero; you try to step down and your foot just slides back like you’re on the world’s most invisible ice rink.
satoru is sitting in the corner, casually reading a magazine upside down, doesn't say a word. he just watches you glide helplessly back onto the mattress. 0-1.
10:30am, you manage to "crawl-surf" to the bathroom.
naturally, you reach for the faucet - it’s not there.
you blink, and the faucet is on the ceiling. water flowing upward into the pipes - you look in the mirror;
he’s standing behind you in the reflection, holding a toothbrush and looking incredibly "helpful," "innocent," waiting for you to snap - you don't.
you use bottled water instead, winning the second battle of this "silent treatment war". 1-1.
by midday, he realizes you’re more stubborn than a cursed spirit, so he goes full on nuisance mode. (special grade sorcerer edition).
you open your closet to get dressed; every single item of clothing, every shirt, every sock - is vibrating. if you touch a sleeve, it teleports to the other side of the room.
you are effectively locked out of your own wardrobe by a space-time anomaly.
you go to make tea to calm your nerves, thinking 'if you can't fight it, then adapt to it.'
the kettle is suddenly encased in a "red" orb that repels your hand every time you get within six inches.
the final straw for you was when you tried to leave the apartment to get some space;
you open the front door and walk out, only to find yourself stepping right back into your own living room.
confused, you try again. door → living room. door -> living room, an infinite loop. he’s turned your hallway into a localized version of the prison realm.
you stand in the middle of the room, hands on your hips, fuming.
satoru is now sitting on the couch comfortably, dramatically sighing and checking his watch as if he's the one being inconvenienced with this whole thing.
you take a deep breath. you tried - you really did.
"satoru," you growl, finally looking at him.
"oh! someone spoke!" he teleports directly into your personal space, his blindfold pushed up so his blue eyes are practically glowing with "i won" energy.
"was that the wind? or was that my favorite person finally realizing that they need a certain handsome sorcerer to fix the literal glitch in their reality?"
"fix the door," you snap, trying to hide the twitch of a smile. "the tea, and the floor. you’re such a fucking brat."
"i'm your brat," he chirps, snapping his fingers.
suddenly, the world stops vibrating and gravity returns to normal.
he leans down with no shame resting his chin on your head. "apology accepted! let’s go get lunch. i’m paying - mostly because you can't reach your wallet since i put it on the moon."
the gap moe is gojo satoru, number one gaming youtuber in japan, and how he crashes out loser style whenever people hit on his vlogger girlfriend. (that’s you, by the way.)
warnings + additional tags: language, crude humor, crack fic, modern au, youtuber au, everyone is an adult, hints of reverse harem
