I'm 18+, and I like, reblog, and show support for both sfw and nsfw works, so feel free to not interact and/or block this account if those things make you uncomfortable!
Twst boys reaction meeting their and Reader's children from the future.
(the child was practicing a certain spell when something goes wrong and they accidentally get sent to the past and meet your versions of their parents)
My children from the future???
✦characters: Epel, Malleus, Leona
✦Fem!Reader
Epel Felmier
You and Epel were lying side by side in the soft grass behind the school. He was talking about how annoying Vil had been that morning, complaining about his posture again, while you just listened and laughed quietly. It was peaceful.
Until a sudden cloud of thick smoke exploded right in front of you.
Both of you scrambled up. When the smoke cleared, a teenage boy was sitting on the grass, coughing and waving his hand in front of his face. “Ugh… I fucked up the spell again…” he muttered, scratching the back of his head.
You and Epel froze.
The boy looked up. He had the exact same soft lavender hair and blue eyes as Epel… but his face was sharper, his eyes a different shape, and he was already taller than Epel by a good few inches. He looked around, confused, until his gaze locked onto you. His eyes went huge.
“Mom?!”
You both froze even harder. You instinctively looked around, thinking he must have mistaken you for someone else. But no… he was staring straight at you. Before you could say a word, the boy scrambled over and threw his arms around you in a tight hug.
“I’m so glad to see a familiar face!” he said into your shoulder. “You were right. I really shouldn’t mess with those potions…”
Epel snapped out of his shock first. He grabbed the boy by the back of the collar and yanked him off you, stepping protectively in front of you with a sharp glare. “Hey! Don’t just go touching her like that! What’s your problem?!”
The boy rolled his eyes like this was the most annoying thing in the world. “Chill. I’m from the future. She’s my mom.”
You and Epel stared at each other in pure shock.
The boy then looked Epel up and down, tilting his head. “And…Who are you supposed to be?”
Epel crossed his arms, still glaring. “I’m Epel Felmier. And I’m her boyfriend.”
The boy stared at him for a long second… then barked out a short, disbelieving laugh like he’d just heard the worst joke of his life. “Yeah, right. That’s impossible. My father is Epel Felmier, and he looks nothing like you. My dad is cool. Tall. Strong. He doesn’t look like some… some little fem boy.”
Epel’s face went bright red. He opened his mouth, clearly about to explode…Then he stopped…His eyes slowly widened. A second later his whole face lit up with pure excitement.
“DID YOU HEAR THAT?!” he spun toward you, practically vibrating. “I’m gonna be cool and manly! And tall!”
You just stared at him, still trying to process the entire situation. “Epel. Your future son is standing right in front of us. And the only thing you heard was that you get tall?!”
Epel laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks still pink but grinning wide. “Well yeah! I mean… I already knew I was gonna marry you someday. That part’s not surprising.” He glanced at you with a softer, almost shy smile.
You felt your face heat up at the casual way he said “marry you.”
The boy just crossed his arms and sighed. “Great. So this is what Dad was like as a teenager. Explains a lot.”
It took a while (and a very confused, very irritated Crewel) to figure out the proper reverse potion and send the boy back to his own timeline. Before he left, he gave you one last quick hug. Once he was gone Epel flopped back down in the grass next to you, still grinning like an idiot.
“I’m gonna be tall!” he whispered to himself, almost dreamily.
You just covered your face with both hands and groaned.
Malleus Draconia
You and Malleus had just settled in for a quiet movie night at Ramshackle. The lights were dimmed, the couch was piled with blankets, and you were about to introduce him to a few new films that had come out recently. Everything felt peaceful and comfortable. Then someone knocked on the door. You sighed. “Stay here. I’ll check. It’s probably just Ace getting kicked out of heartslabyul again and looking for a place to crash.”
You opened the door…And froze.
Two teenager stood there. A boy and a girl. Both of them taller than you. Both with long, silky black hair, sharp green eyes, and black horns curling from their heads.
You stared.
Then you slowly turned your head and yelled over your shoulder. “…Malleus? Do you… have any cousins or something?”
Malleus tilted his head from the couch. “No.” He rose and walked over, curious. The moment he saw the two teens, he stopped dead in the doorway, eyes widening in genuine shock.
The girl gave a small smile. “Hi, Mother. Father.”
The boy cleared his throat, looking a little more awkward. “We can explain…”
You and Malleus exchanged a long, stunned look. Then, still half in disbelief, you stepped aside and let them in. Once everyone was seated, you crossed your arms and looked between the two of them. “This is impossible. You two look maybe two or three years younger than me. How could we possibly be your parents?”
The boy took a deep breath and began explaining. They had found an ancient book in the castle library. When they opened it, a strange magic pulled them back in time and dropped them right outside at nrc.
Malleus’s brows furrowed. “How did you know where to find us?”
The girl smiled. “You spent hours talking about how you met Mother. You told the story so many times we could find this place with our eyes closed.”
You looked at Malleus. He nodded slowly, a faint, sheepish smile on his lips. “That… does sound like me.”
You still weren’t fully convinced. You walked closer and studied their faces carefully. “Are you sure I’m your mother?”
Both of them nodded without hesitation.
You looked them up and down again. Tall. Sharp green eyes. Silky black hair. Horns. Your shoulders slumped in defeat.
“…My genes didn’t even try.”
Malleus immediately reached for your hand, voice soft and reassuring. “My dear, you are…”
Before he could finish, the girl spoke up again, almost cheerfully. “Our two younger sisters look more like you, Mother.”
You stared at her. “…Other two?”
Your voice rose. “I GOT FOUR KIDS?!??”
Malleus’s eyes lit up with pure, quiet joy. Without a word he wrapped his arms around you from behind, holding you tightly against his chest as if the information had only made him happier. You could practically feel how pleased he was. Four children. Two of them already standing at front of you, looking like miniature versions of him. Two more somewhere in the future who apparently took after you.
You covered your face with both hands and groaned. “I’m going to be so cooked in the future…”
Malleus rested his chin on top of your head, voice warm and content. “I look forward to it.”
Leona Kingscholar
Today was a perfectly ordinary day, which meant you were once again trying to drag your boyfriend out of bed. Leona was sprawled face down in the sheets, refusing to move no matter how hard you tugged on his arm. “Come on, Leona. You’ve been sleeping for hours. Let’s do something.”
“No.”
You were mid pull when the door opened and Ruggie walked in looking pale. “Uh… Leona. There’s someone here who wants to talk to you.”
Both of you looked at him, confused by the unusual seriousness in his voice. Leona didn’t even lift his head. “Don’t care. Send them away.”
Ruggie shook his head. “You should definitely see this person. Both of you.”
You and Leona exchanged a look. Eventually Leona groaned and waved a hand. “…Fine.”
The door opened again. A lion beast woman walked in. Beautiful dark skin, long wavy brown hair, sharp eyes, and a pair of neat lion ears on her head. She looked around your age, maybe a little younger, and the second she saw the two of you, her expression softened.
“Hi, Mom and Dad.”
Leona sat up so fast the blankets went flying.He was wide awake now. “I beg your finest pardon?” he said flatly. “I’d remember if I ever had a kid.”
The girl sighed and scratched the back of her neck, looking a little embarrassed. “Yeah… I kinda fucked up a potion back home. Next thing I know I time traveled and ended up here. I’m kinda lost.”
Leona turned his head toward you, one brow raised in pure judgment. “That is definitely yours. You’d be the one doing something stupid like this.”
You glared at him and smacked him on the head. “Ruggie” you said, rubbing your forehead “go find pofessor Crewel. Tell him what happened. We need help.”
Ruggie nodded and walked out of the room, leaving the three of you sitting in awkward silence. Leona leaned back studying the girl. “…Do I have any more kids?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Just me.”
Leona let out a long, relieved sigh. “Thanks to seven”
You tilted your head. “What kind of potion were you trying to make anyway?”
The girl’s ears flattened a little as she looked away, clearly embarrassed. “I was about to go on a date… and I wanted to check if it was gonna go well or not.”
Leona massaged his temple with one hand. “I’m 100% sure you’re hers” he muttered “but I’m starting to question if I’m actually the father.”
Both you and your future daughter turned and glared at him at the exact same time. Leona snorted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “See? Same glare.”
You rolled your eyes. A few minutes later Ruggie returned with a reverse potion from Crewel. The girl took the bottle, but just as she was about to drink it, you stopped her. “Wait. Who were you going on a date with anyway?”
She blinked, then answered without thinking. “Oh, the oldest Draconian…”
“A WHO?!” Leona’s voice cracked through the room like a whip. His ears were fully upright.
The girl froze. Realization hit her face a second too late. She downed the entire bottle in one go and with a soft poof of smoke, she vanished.
Silence.
Leona was already halfway off the door, growling under his breath about finding a certain lizard and killing him. You had to physically grab his arm and dig your heels in. “Leona. No. His children don’t even exist yet. You are not going to try and murder Malleus over a future date that hasn’t happened.”
Leona glared at the empty space where his future daughter had been standing, tail lashing. “Tch. of course she’s already got terrible taste in men.”
Synopsis. The five times Gojo Satoru would rather díe than marry you, his (infuriatingly pretty, oh-so-irresistible) arranged fiancée - and the one time he comes back from déath to.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, arranged marriage AU, enemies-to-Iovers, 5 + 1 things, PINING, Geto and Shoko cameos, matíng press, big D, tummy buIges, GOJO’S POWERS, creampíes, maIe squírting, oraI (fem rec.), face-sítting, he’s FÉRAL, fíngering, chokíng, spítting, p talking, down bad Gojo, slight exhíbitíonism, making him PÚSSYDRÚNK, those Gege sketches, slight spoiIers, HAPPY ENDING, swéaring, pet names.
Word count. 11.5k
A/N. Oh y’all don’t know how those Gege drawings had me, I just had to…
“I’m never marrying you.”
“I’d rather marry a special grade curse than you.”
“Huh- I’m much hotter than a fuc-”
SLAM!
That sharp, pointed noise of a ceramic teacup hitting the winding table you were seated at had almost become ritual at this point. The first few jabs of an argument escaping the mouths of both you and the other heir being a signal for at least one of the grim elders to interrupt before either of you could ruin a four-hundred-year-old contract.
And with a stubborn huff, you’re leaning back into your seat on the tatami mat to appraise the boy opposite you.
Everything from his cropped, snowy bangs to the way his summer-blue eyes blazed into you. Honestly, if you closed your ears every time he spoke, he could almost be- nope, he was sticking his tongue out at you now.
The ever-mature Gojo Satoru; new head of the ancient Gojo clan, freshly-enrolled student at Tokyo Jujutsu High.
And your soon-to-be husband.
All cooped up in this traditional meeting room, one where generations of matches had been made and very rarely broken.
A coming-of-age ceremony, where the two of you had officially been declared leaders - and an engagement.
Your engagement.
It was a business transaction of sorts. One that didn’t require any input from either marrying parties, according to the council of elders who sat upon either side of the table and stroked their beards in smug success.
You’d heard that several clans had physically fought over this chance, before the Gojo clan ultimately chose you. And you knew why - you were one of the very few that had something to lose.
The chance to attend Tokyo Jujutsu High.
In short, play sorcerer all you want for three years, and in return they’d be free to enforce an old betrothal alliance between your two clans and demand a powerful new heir to jujutsu society - a win-win.
Though- looking at your reluctant fiancé, still donned in his dark silk robes from his ceremony, you wonder if you really should have just run away as your friends from Kyoto had urged you to.
And one look at Gojo’s scrunched-up face told you he might just be thinking the same thing. Delicate features marred. Pouty lips nothing of the whispered legends you’d heard of the young prodigy—a monster. A blessing. The strongest.
He sounded very much his age as he echoes, “I’m never marrying you.”
You open your mouth- “And I-”
“-will be part of young Satoru’s high school journey!” Your father puts a hand on your shoulder, lightly squeezing. Becoming part of the Gojo clan was just as big of an opportunity for him as it was for you. Apparently. “We’re sure the young couple will get over their pre-wedding jitters by the time they’re back from graduation to continue their duties- right?”
A tap on your figure, that was your cue to answer.
Instead, you just turn your face towards Gojo, look him serenely in the eyes, the sweetest practiced smile on your face- and flip him off. Pre-wedding jitters your ass.
The gasps that cloud the stuffy summer meeting chamber atmosphere were almost comical. As if you’d just sprung out of your seat and made an attempt on the poor, sheltered heir’s life. Out of the corner of your vision, you think you see one member of the council clutch his heart and faint-
“Pffft–!” That slight snigger rips through the air in sheer contrast, and every pair of eyes in the room peaks curiously over at the way Gojo muffles a slight chuckle.
Your eyes widen, you think you liked him better like this.
Almost as if he’d just sensed your thoughts, he’s schooling his face into one of a steady lack of emotion, lightly clearing his throat.
Though, you catch the pointed tips of his ears scorching cherry-red.
“Where is the ring, boy.” Gojo’s father was a stern man, and his commanding voice was just as cut-throat. Seated right beside his son in a mirror image of you and your own father, he didn’t have to be loud to make Gojo’s spine stiffen almost unnoticeably still.
Ramrod-straight, silent- the younger version of the former head stuffs one hand between the fabrics of his yukata.
And you weren’t sure what sort of ring might be bestowed on you by the famed Gojo clan - you didn’t allow yourself to imagine it. Perhaps a clean silver to match their emblem? Perhaps studded with sapphires for their new head’s irises?
Whatever it may have been, you don’t get to find out.
Because in that moment, Gojo Satoru flashes you with the obnoxious plastic pink of a ring pop. The very same kind you’d sneak out of your estate to buy from that little corner shop down the road, fifty yen maximum.
“Satoru.”
Make that twenty yen.
“What?” His voice almost lilts into a whine as he responds to his father - trying oh-so-hard to pretend nothing was wrong, and this was totally the silver heirloom engagement ring of his family. Just…smelling slightly of artificial strawberry.
Gojo senior pinches his nosebridge, “I swear to- if you are not serious about that damn- school-”
“It’s alright!” Your fiancé seems just as bewildered at your interruption as you are, and you narrow your eyes enough to tell him that if he messed up your chances at going to Jujutsu High then his blood would be on your hands. Strongest or not. Reaching out your left arm, “I don’t mind, truly.”
And while the rest of the chamber murmurs, Gojo leans over the table to slip his mocking engagement ring onto your finger. To be married. To be his.
Holding your hand in his larger, slightly roughened ones, “I’d rather die than marry you.” He’s crouching to whisper in a heated pant, each syllable sticking to your skin. Only mostly meaning it.
And you whisper back into his furiously pink ear—“And I’d rather marry a special grade curse.”
.
.
.
Gojo Satoru met you in the summer, like one of those heat-induced fever dreams.
Okay, perhaps that wasn’t the best comparison- but in his defense, penning flowery literature was never his best subject after he nearly caused a clan rift by comparing Zenin Jinichi to a bullfrog.
It was a compliment, really!
But you were a whirlwind, one that left his world tilted and his skin sizzling with heat in the aftermath- in a bad way, of course! You were a bad fever dream - a pretty one, sure, dressed in your most decadent cerulean robes and a withering glare - but still one of those you think back to even months later.
Even nearly a year later when he’s sixteen and had insisted on walking up the ancient stone steps of Tokyo Jujutsu High without his entourage of attendants and elders.
“Hello hello—” Gojo’s running his pale fingers through even paler, short hair to free it of pinkish cherry blossom petals. Looming around the naturally green gardens of campus, “Where is- oh!”
Just as soon as he was about to tug his opaque, round sunglasses off to inspect whether it would impress his fellow students- that lady working at the store said so, so it must be, he bought twenty-five! Gojo spots a figure leaned against one of the ancient oaks by the dorms.
That velvety blue of the dress code was one that he could recognize anywhere after so many years of yearning for it.
And before he can stop himself, he’s sprinting towards the dark blob as fast as his lanky legs could take him. Calling out, “Yoohooo–! Your one and only favorite classmate is here~”
“Ieri–!”
“Wait-”
“You-”
So caught up in both your excitements to meet your new classmate - one of Utahime’s friends who happened to be your age - you two didn’t notice the one, single thing that you two couldn’t deny. Right by your side.
Your betrothed.
You snarl, stopping short. “What are you doing here-” And he does, too, hands haughtily planted on either side of his slender hips as he leans in close.
Snapping at you, the brief glimpse of his electric blue eyes sends goosebumps down your body. “I could ask the same from you. Couldn’t resist my charms so you had to follow me, hm~?”
“I’m here to learn, obviously. Why are you here- to get exorcised?”
“Take that back! I’m here to learn, too.”
You knew that it was part of your betrothal contract that the two of you would attend Tokyo Jujutsu High, you knew that the two of you would end up seeing each other one way or the other. And you already knew your clan stowed that stupid pink ring away deeply at the bottom of your suitcase (where you’d hopefully never have to see it ever again).
But you still raise a brow at the flashy designer stamping on his shades. “…Really?”
And Gojo could’ve taken disgust- hell, he would have even welcomed anger.
But that genuine, wondering confusion in your tone as you swept your eyes up n’ down his defensive stature made him flush- “H-how dare you- duel me. Right here, right now.”
“Haaah? You would duel your future wife?”
“Scared?”
“No, just wondering why you didn’t ask sooner.”
Scoffing, both of you dart your heads in unison to the girl with the shortly-cut hair that was following your argument like the fiercest of tennis matches. Immediately turning ashen-faced at your attention, and damn near devastated when Gojo happily keens. “Bob girl! Can you keep score of-”
“No.” She deadpans.
Frankly, you wondered just how she managed to sound as if she’s seen every horror there was to see in the world already. Possibly because she already had, right there, but Shoko doesn’t spend her time answering your unspoken question.
Too busy digging in her jacket pocket for-
“Cigarettes!” Gojo squeals, never having seen someone his age take a puffed-out drag of one so close-up before. The clan always detested anything that would ‘stain the purities of the body’- and right now, Ieri Shoko looked like she couldn’t handle sitting there one more second longer if she didn’t have one.
He points a lengthy finger your way, accusatory. “I blame you for this- somehow- you must have corrupted her with your ways and made her feel all strange like you did me.”
You roll your eyes, “Yeah? I blame you for our marriage-”
And he’s uttering for the second time, “Oh yeah? Well, I’m never marrying-”
But just as Gojo was about to whirl on his feet and flick out a few cursed tendrils of energy like he’d taught himself. He was thinking of calling this one ‘Blue’ after that shade of your robes the first time you met, and the way you were about to be it’s first-
A deep voice cuts off his train of traitorous thoughts- “Yeah- mhm, I’ve gotta go. My new classmates are here.”
A new-comer.
And the black-haired boy looks as if he’d no sooner flip his cellphone closed to end his ongoing call and pretend he never walked out of the dorms than join whatever mess he’d just walked in on.
Amethyst eyes slowly swivelling underneath his tied-back bangs to look at a fuming Gojo…to an equally-matched you…to Shoko, already chain-smoking her fifth cigarette away by now.
“Actually…could you stay on the line for a bit longer, momma.”
.
.
.
“It’s legal if it’s personal property, isn’t it?”
You groan, “It’s not your personal-”
He quickly taps the polished handle- “Now it is.”
“That’s…” You’re squinting your eyes, as if it will somewhat blur and spare you the sight of Gojo Satoru attempting to steal that shiny red moped parked at the outer edge of campus. If anything happened, you didn’t want to go through the hassle of getting called in as a witness, at least.
Shoko puts you out of your misery as the one voice of reason, “Yeah, that’s a lie.”
Geto cups a hand over his gaze to fight off the breaking rays of sunset, voice amused. “Well, I don’t see any cameras here.”
“Perfect—!” Gojo sings, clapping his hands together as he stares over his ridiculously gaudy glasses. It was nearing the end of first year, early December wind your fifth uninvited guest as the four of you chose to stay over in the dorms for your first high school holidays. “The key’s still here so we can sneak out, buy me the best birthday cake in Tokyo- no, in all of Japan, and sneak back in right before grump ol’ Yaga-”
“Sneak off from who-”
And, there, was aforementioned grumpy ol’ Yaga.
Running at full speed toward your deviant little group from the top of Jujutsu High’s stairway. Which, considering the tough, rocky path, wasn’t too fast at all- but the four of you just bolt.
Faster than you’ve seen anyone move during any cursed mission, if you’re being quite honest.
Shoko running, phone in hand with a suspiciously blinking camera light that meant she was recording the entire ordeal. Geto urgently twisting his fingers into what you’d learned was his summoning technique - he’d meant to call his Rainbow Dragon for a rapid escape, but ended up manifesting the massive, sleek form of his Giant Catfish who scooped him up into the murky depths of its mouth and slithered away.
And Gojo?
Oh, Gojo was letting out the most impressive high pitched squeal before he’s slamming something hard, and helmet-shaped on top of your head.
“Wh- hey!” Before you can even register it, two massive hands are grabbing onto your waist to sit you down on the cushioned back of the moped. Backwards. “Wrong way-”
“I don’t know how to drive!”
Your feet hitting the side, your back hitting Gojo’s larger one, it takes only a singular split-second for him to jam that lil’ key and speed off down the stony path of the campus. With Professor Yaga yelling from behind and you yelping, “Gojo I’m gonna kill you-”
“My bad, I meant to grab Yaga.” He’s grumbling at you from the front, the roll of his eyes practically carrying on the whipping wind.
“Yaga would’ve known how to seat a kidnapee-”
“You want to touch me?”
“…No”
“Scared?”
Your wide eyes watch the disorienting way the lush nature of the Jujutsu High passes by, as if you were stuck in a kaleidoscope. “No.”
He only hums, finally getting used to controlling the vehicle enough that he was mostly sure he wouldn’t crash into every upcoming tree. “Prove it~”
Wordlessly, Gojo slows down enough that you won’t be part of his definitely-opportune traffic accident as you shift your body ‘round. The faux leather cover creaking! once you rover your palms onto his shoulders for balance- “There.”
“Ever seen anyone hold onto the driver like this? Ya prude-”
“Fine-” You’re cutting him off- cutting yourself off by clinging your hands in a neat knot around Gojo’s firm core. And through the flashing shard of the side-view mirrors, you catch the way his ears burn. “You better not get an erection.”
Okay, only partly sure he wouldn’t crash into an oncoming tree.
The deep timbre of his voice cracks- “H-hey!” You knew how to push his buttons just so. “Gods- why’d it have to be you?”
“And why’d it have to be you.”
The part he doesn’t say out loud is that it would’ve been stranger if it was anyone else.
Not that you needed to hear it- of course not, you were still his infuriating, bold- stubborn fiancée who was forced onto him, after all.
Yet, to Gojo who’s held close by you, and to you who was clinging onto him for dear life as the haven of Jujutsu High melts into the bustling city, he doesn’t think he’s had a more peaceful birthday.
It takes fifteen minutes for the two of you to ride to that cozy convenience store on the outskirts of Tokyo, and what felt like hours (but in reality was five minutes) to give up on convincing the elderly clerk that you both were totally not a couple out for an after-school joyride.
And then - as if the universe was directing its very own prank at your expense - only three for Gojo to grow impatient and throw a tantrum swerving the moped to and fro until you finally tore open that packet of sparklers bought as birthday celebrations.
Honestly, what else did you expect from a man who organized his own surprise birthday party?
“Cake? Check. These things? Check. Happy birthday to me~” He’s tipping the starlit firework upside down to draw bands of gold in the darkening air. “Must be in the top seventeen birthdays I’ve ever had-”
You scoff, your breath emitted as a small cloud. “You’ve only had seventeen.”
“It just dropped down to eighteenth thanks to you-” And you swear you see the strongest outline a dick in the air with his sparkler, you swear he purposefully made it bigger than the one you’d drawn. “And nineteenth if we get arrested for the moped.”
In response, you draw the biggest dick. One with his face.
You were parked on the side of a lazy road, only the occasional car and Gojo’s wonderment breaking the tense silence - perhaps the most civil one you’ve had in years.
It was odd being out with Gojo Satoru. No sniping over your betrothal, and if he tried hard enough- he could pretend that there was none. That there might be. But for now, the two of you were just two classmates sneaking out to ransack your local stores, “If we do get arrested, I’m blaming you.”
He nods, dramatically. Bumping his broad deltoid against yours, “As husband, that would be my duty.”
“So…” You’re blinking, your own sparkler’s ashy ends drooping onto the ground. There was no doubt on your mind that Geto would not have mercy on the two of you for finishing about half of these sticks. But you had something else on your mind right now, “You’re saying you don’t mind-”
“Wait. wait, no, that’s not what I meant. O-of course I mind!” And Gojo doesn’t give you the time to call out the way his breath gasps- the way his voice shakes, the way he’s flushing. Furious, “Never- in my right mind- would I marry you.”
A ring of gold from the dying sunlight wraps around your irises and irritates him so much when you finally look away to rustle your hand inside the numerous shopping bags.
Airily musing, “Then, I guess as my not-ever-husband you wouldn’t want your not-ever-wife to gift you this-”
“I take it back, I’m marrying you.”
If the elders of your clan knew that all it took for Gojo Satoru to accept the betrothal would be a packet of extra, extra-caramelized popcorn then they would have had the two of you married off by yesterday.
“Make no mistake, this was meant for me.” It wasn’t. You did eye this particular brand too long before swiping it off the shelf and paying when he wasn’t looking. You did think of nothing but the plastic ring burning a hole deeply inside your skirt pocket. And the way he’d whined and thrown himself on the floor of the nearby theatre on your last outing to the city, when Geto refused to buy him caramel popcorn.
So you’d bought it- to shut him up and spare your poor throbbing temples, if anything. Of course.
But you can’t help the words that tumble out of your mouth at the glowing expression gracing his features. “But- here- happy…birthday. I’m not getting you anything for the next ten years.”
He’s silent.
Pondering.
And he can’t think of anything more flat than a little ‘thank you.’
The red, red metallic bag with enough sugar content to put anyone but Gojo Satoru into a coma sits carefully where you’d plopped it into his arms. And he looks at it with the sort of twinkle in his eyes that you’d never seen before. “Well…If I brought Yaga instead of you, he wouldn’t have bought me this.”
“I take it back-”
“Thank you.” Almost as if realizing those awful, treacherous two words himself, he backtracks with a sputter. Strange, he should bug Shoko into doing some sort of heart check-up on him soon. “W-we’re married for as long as I eat these. And after that? Divorce, sweetheart.”
Pretending to wipe your forehead in relief, “Thank goodness-”
“Oi-”
“What-”
And with your grumblings and partially-filled bags in tow, he’s fastening the singular helmet on you - so fast that you think he might’ve just taken advantage of his powers to do so.
Just to watch you strangle out in what was definite annoyance as he pets the plastic top as if you were a child. Smack, smack!
“I’d be a good husband- not that you’d ever know.” Gojo sticks his tongue out at you, vrrrrr—ing the moped engine so that your snarky reply gets drowned out. “And next time I am bringing Yaga instead.”
He takes back those words soon enough when Yaga catches the two of you right at the gates of Jujutsu High. Trying to race back away on his brand-new moped.
.
.
.
“So- you see” Long, white lashes flutter rapidly, “Take pity on your poor, sheltered student. The Gojo elders really didn’t teach me-”
“I should’ve set the mission sooner so that I could be rid of-”
Geto pipes up above Professor Yaga’s booming lecture, a hand raised in every ounce of solemn discipline that his best friend didn’t show. Another mission. Constant. “In my defense, it was his idea.”
Valentine’s day. Also the early first day of second year; and it only brought about more missions, a couple more students as first-years, and a slightly-longer haired thorn at your side betrothed. And, apparently, this - three annoying, grating voices muffling through the gaps of your dorm’s front door.
“I call shots on not answering to that.” Utahime pipes up where she was sprawled out on your bed and knitting her brows at your interrupted girl time. It’s not often that she gets time off from Kyoto to bother her only friends in Tokyo.
Snickering at Shoko’s absent-minded ‘ditto’ and Haibara’s- why was he even here, anyway - “I could! But maybe you should do it, he is your fiancé!”
Utahime cackles, face twisting from mirth to disgust when she inspects that plastic ring from where she’d dug it up from your drawer. “On Valentine’s day, too- oh I would rather die if I were you.”
It takes you a few moments to realize that all three occupants of your bedroom were staring at you for an answer. Pointing at yourself, “M-me?” Facing Haibara, “And why do you know that- you’ve been here for a day.”
He smiles, dazzling. “Ah, Gojo-senpai was telling us- it was why Nanami was trying to call home and leave.”
“Oooo, you heard the man.” Shoko presses a few buttons on her phone, and you hear the suspicious beep–! of the camera starting. Only incriminating herself further when she’s raising it upwards and flapping her hands forwards to urge you to open the door.
You groan, “Next time, we are not having girl’s night in my roo- wait.” And it had never caused you any trouble to leave and enter your dorm, it had never taken you more than a gentle push to open your door. So why was it that it just refused to open right now- “What the-”
It’s as if the door was locked from the outside somehow.
Shoko leans in further with her recording camera as you prod, as you turn your shoulder to hit the wooden pane and shove-
“Why- isn’t this-” You’re hissing through grit teeth, feet planting firmly on the surface and cracking open the bedroom door inch by inch. Gasping, “-open-ing–!”
And the sight before you was one you’d remembered for years.
Not just because smack-dab front n’ center to your vision was a pathetically kneeling Gojo Satoru, cowering in front of your looming teacher- but because of what was actually blocking your entryway.
It wasn’t some lock on the outside as you’d suspected, it wasn’t a large desk or anything of the sort. It was a massive, heaping pile of buttons.
Gold with bits of purple. So many that it was almost as tall as your door.
“What. The. Hell.” Your deadpan voice cuts Gojo off in the midst of some complaint to Yaga about ‘why is it named the Vessel Mission anyway, that’s stupid.’ And three sets of eyes snap to you as they finally register your entrance.
“Ah…” Geto’s the first one to break the silence of your impromptu staring match, even though Gojo was pointedly staring away. Eyes twitching the longer his best friend stared at the mountain of buttons on your doorstep, he looked exhausted. “Satoru, care to explain?”
He’s gulping, “You see, this all has a very reasonable explanation and a very reasonable line of thinking-”
“It’s all Satoru’s fault-”
“What-”
“Of course, it is.” Yaga rubs his aching temples, as he often seemed to do whenever he was around his group of second-years for just a minute too long. The older man turns to you with a weary, tired expression - and you make note of his dark circles, “This is the fifth pile of second buttons I cleaned from your door today- this hour.”
Ah, that explained it.
And it feels like your brain had just short-circuited, “Oh…wait- second buttons-?” Nevermind how he’d come across so many. Bought, most likely.
“I told you the elders taught me nothing-” Gojo squawks, scrambling onto his feet. He’s flailing his hands about, it was not his fault he didn’t know that second button meant…a confession. Or the fact that Geto hadn’t bothered to tell him and only watched with an easy smile as he made a fool of himself. “It was a prank- a prank! And his idea- he helped! I was going to block your door with buttons-”
“-second buttons.”
“-and make you all huffy and puffy that way you get-”
“-on Valentine’s day.” You’re finishing off, arms crossed. Carefully scrutinizing up at him- he hadn’t come across a growth spurt since last semester, he’d rammed into one at full speed. You shudder, in disgust, surely. “Did the elder’s hypnotize you or is there something you’re not telling me…”
And he hates it.
He hates how you look right through him in a way that induces some sort of heart condition in him- and Gojo would know, he’s visited every doctor in Tokyo just because of it. They all laughed.
One even wrote up his letter of resignation.
Sputtering, ears pink in anger- and Gojo was glad that his pale hair had grown out just enough to cover it. Strangely. “Y-you wish, ex-wife.”
You’re swatting the back of his soft locks, and Geto doesn’t note how Gojo seemed to have put down limitless so you could swat him.
“Dickhead.”
“Delinquent.”
“Blind mouse-”
Gasping, he clutches onto the frame of his shades. “Oh, now I really don’t wanna marry you-”
Yaga’s had enough.
“Enough!”
One of the veins near the side of his forehead nearly pops, and you step back with a wince at the oncoming scream- Gojo shuffling behind as if he was bravely offering you up for sacrifice.
“Enough- enough with the- the confessions-” Yaga spears a finger straight at Gojo’s directions and speaks over his protests. “-and the flirting! Flirt after the mission-” Then at you, and you could hear your friends cackling from either side. “Detention for everyone!”
Dammit- another line on your divorce document.
.
.
.
You didn’t get to ‘flirt’ after that Star Plasma mission - not that you would, but still.
In fact, you didn’t get to do all that much after tasting death so close to your little haven at Tokyo Jujutsu High.
And life goes on, sometimes leaving those behind.
And other times honing others who choose to stay and snap-
“It’s Suguru.”
“I know.”
The defection of Geto Suguru. The murder of his parents. His mother.
Your voice was more empty than he’d ever heard it- and he wanted you to scream at him, he wanted you to sob. Anything and everything other than the trained, stable tone that clashed against everything he was feeling right now.
But you only stare out into the yolky yellow tint beaming over the sprawling grounds. Sat on the flat, stone staircase of campus with your knees hugged to your chest- and he was close enough on the steps to hear your low mutter. “I’ll be leaving, too.”
Gojo’s head snaps to you- “What?”
“It’s my clan.” You’re swallowing, refusing to look at him directly. And that in and of itself almost hurt as much as when you did- and, for perhaps the first time, he’d rather have his heart race in those strange little palpitations. Right now, it was just heavy. “And yours. They don’t think it’s safe for a ‘future Gojo bride’ to be so close to danger.”
“Then we won’t marry.” He’s declaring, snowy brows set stubbornly.
“I know.” You lilt your head back to watch the sluggishly swimming clouds above, likely the last time you will from here. The council will be here tomorrow, and with them, your departure. You had that silly pink ring on your little finger, he notices. “I’m leaving.”
“I already said we won’t-”
“No, dickhead. I’m leaving.”
Widened, quivering blue peripherals lock onto you- and Gojo’s rosy lips part into a soft oh!
He knew what you meant- hell, when he first wanted to enroll in this damn school, he’d threatened to leave the clan over and over until they’d finally relented. And suddenly he’s hit with the loss of his little group - no more missions, no more convenience store runs, no more you.
You were to graduate in a year, with only half the students left in both your grade and the one below. Nanami wasn’t even going to become a sorcerer anymore, not after Haibara.
And he knew - he just felt - that you won’t be there for it. That you might never be.
How he wished to run, too.
“Utahime’s friends with that one special grade sorcerer- Yuki Tsukumo. I’m leaving with her today to continue training my own way.” You’re continuing, hands flexing in your lap. “And leaving the clan. Officially.”
Huffing, “What? Gonna leave your poor husband at the altar—?”
“Like I’ve always wanted to.”
“Without even a kiss for the bride?” And he doesn’t know why he says it. Even more, he doesn’t know why he holds the line of your gaze and can’t bear to look away, even as his heart starts up that familiarly strange ba-dump–! rattling his chest.
The tips of his ears tinging the very same blood-red as the sun now, Gojo thinks he can hear his eardrums whistling once you lean in. Once you close your eyes. And once you press your lips to his plush, soft ones for a mere single second.
“There-” You’re murmuring, trying to sound stern even though the waver in your voice gives you away. “Now you’ve been deflowered and can’t complain. You’re an absolute curse, you know that?”
And, suddenly, he gets it.
Oh, so that was why all those cardiologists he visited laughed at him for about a year straight.
He gets it.
Chuckling bitterly, of course. Of course, he has to understand now. Of course, he loses every shred of sun just as soon as he closes his hands- because for what reason should a weapon crave normalcy? Crave sealed fate? For what right should he demand that you stay here to bind you to him?
His mouth quivers, head turning so that you won’t see the wet glitter of his eyes in the dying daybreak. “So now I’m a special grade and a curse? Does that make me the special grade curse you want to marry?”
Your flip phone buzzes, and he already knows it’s time. Standing up, “You had the curse part down pat even before you were a special grade. Probably why your bride’s running off, Satoru.”
It was the fifth and last time that Gojo Satoru would be declaring that stupid sentiment. Smile only half-true. It was a cruel summer.
But he always was good at waiting.
Gojo tugs on that cold second button of his uniform, calling out in place of a goodbye. “Good thing we won’t be getting married, sweetheart~”
.
.
.
Itadori Yuji has spied on his teacher’s phone before.
He didn’t mean to–he swears it! And was it even that much of an invasion of privacy if he simply glanced over at the glaring lockscreen wallpaper? Surely, it wouldn’t have been as bad as if he had peered over Gojo’s shoulder when he actually unlocked his phone…
…Okay maybe he had seen a snapshot of the older man’s home screen as well, but like he said- it was an accident. Flickering his curious eyes over as he opened up his catalogue of movies during their training together.
But what wasn’t an accident was just how vividly he remembered each wallpaper.
On his lockscreen; taken from the inside of what looked like one of Tokyo Jujutsu High’s dorms, with a massive pile of toppling buttons in the center and a much younger Gojo Satoru (and someone who looked faintly like Kenjaku?) kneeled on the floor. Clearly being punished.
Yet, what was most interesting was the scowling, arms-crossed figure of another student he was staring up at. Unable to tear his eyes away, even through his shades.
It was you.
That familiar face also featured in Gojo’s home screen - a more blurry photo, this time, as if it was still in motion. Of his teacher in the process of scrambling onto a shiny red moped, keys turning, with you stowed away in the backseat - yelling and sat backwards.
And Itadori tried not to think much of it, but he saw you in the small framed photograph that Principal Yaga pretended not to have on his desk, yet, polished every day.
He saw you in the postcards that Professor Shoko pinned up on the packed bulletin board of her infirmary, amongst diagrams of dissections and slaughter. He saw you in the brief, blurry facetime that the other teacher, Utahime, from Kyoto was on during parts of the exchange event.
And he saw you at the foot of Gojo Satoru’s bed, after he’d won.
Older, more mature now - but inevitably you.
Itadori could tell, even in the forlorn way you were slumped over the side of the mattress in Shoko’s clinic, body half-seated on a chair like you’d been there all night.
“You…” He’s breathing, making you stir against his will.
You blinky your teary eyes up in groggy confusion, fingers instinctively tightening on the large, callused fingerpads of Gojo’s digits. “Huh? Oh, you must be Yuji. And Megumi, and Nobara.”
Itadori was just about to open his mouth and answer that no, he was actually just Yuji- when a disgruntled voice behind him makes him realize he isn’t alone. “We apologize for the trouble, we can come back later if you-”
“Oh, no no.” You wave Fushiguro’s words off as the three enter - well, as Fushiguro enters and Kugisaki shoves Itadori inside. “I’m sure he’d want everyone here when he wakes.”
Gojo had won in Shinjuku, but Satoru was still sleeping.
Famed eyes closed. Bundled in the arms of bandages and reverse cursed energy ‘round his toned middle, he was breathing in slow unison with the beep! of the nearby heart monitor. Alive.
You really did have Shoko to thank later.
And Itadori knew that as a student he should be more invested in how his unconscious teacher was doing, but he just couldn’t help but keep sneaking glances over and over. Wondering just who you really were-
“So, is the wedding going to be anytime soon?”
Fushiguro speaks, and the rest of the trio gapes. How dare he ask something like that from a sorcerer so lovely. And wait- why were you chuckling? “Oh right-” Nodding down at Gojo’s large form, of course, he told his honorary son everything. “I am his fiancée.”
“His what-”
“How much did he pay you-”
“Kugisaki, don’t be rude-”
Fushiguro nods, “No, she’s right.”
“Unfortunately, only this.” You’re scrunching your nose as you answer Kugisaki’s question- pulling out a tiny chain from underneath your uniform with an aged, faded pink plastic ring pop.
And she responds like she’d been personally wronged, dragging her hands carefully down her eye-patched face. “Ohhh- I knew it- not only is he a deadbeat teacher, he’s a deadbeat husband, too.”
“To be fair I did leave him. Of sorts.” You wave a hand airily, already having heard from Ijichi about the fate of the higher-ups. The clans. Over the younger girl’s ‘understandable!’ “I just landed in Tokyo today, I wish I could’ve come sooner but- ah, well.”
“B-but…” Everyone looks at Itadori as he stammers out, cheeks burning a slight rouge once your hand drifts over Gojo’s exposed core. Whispering in one breath, “How did he get a wife so pretty…”
“Hey- that’s my wife you’re talking about.”
You could recognize that smug, simpering tone anywhere. You’d be able to pick it out from a crowd of thousands.
Laughing- as he’s tackled into a hug by an overeager Itadori, and the falsely reluctant rest.
It was quite strange to see Gojo Satoru like this - not just laid barren and sprawled over some hospital bed, but without any of his usual blindfolds and sunglasses. Just like when you’d met. And he always was so honest with his eyes.
And he was back.
And you were back - after ten years.
Which is why Itadori and Kugisaki have to fight the urge to look away at the expression settling over Gojo’s serene face. Wondering how you - his fiancée, of all things - would react. Winning against the King of Curses was quite the accomplishment, even for the strongest.
Would you cry? Would you throw your hands over him as they just did? Should they actually get up and leave the room-
“You- you complete idiot.” Gojo half-wonders whether your strength could rival Sukuna himself once you strike down a punch to his scarred shoulder. Yelling, glaring- crushing him into a hug.
Your voice is suspiciously thick once you’re gurgling out into the pale crook of his neck, “I thought you said you’d rather die than marry me.”
And they don’t know what they’re more surprised about- the way that Gojo had the audacity to say those words to you, or the way that Gojo had the audacity to listen to those very words and laugh. Head thrown back, “Sweetheart, I’d come back from death just to marry you.”
Pulling away, you take the longest look at your betrothed that you think you ever have.
Everything from his longer, still-snowy hair, tickling the tips of sparkling sapphire eyes. Slightly slicked back to reveal shyly red-dusted ears, and a cute lil’ dimple at the edge of his boyish grin.
He was still the same Gojo you’d left behind - even though he was taller, stronger. So much bigger that you could feel the flex of his deltoids underneath your palms, and the ripple of his beefy forearms looped around your waist.
He was still Gojo. Always beautiful.
SLAM!
“O-oh.” You’re jolting at the sudden closing of the clinic door, clearly his students had left the two of you to some privacy, and you’re almost embarrassed. “We’re an awful example.”
“When have we ever been a good example?”
“Well, I could say that about you-”
He only tugs you closer, breathing out as if the first breath he’d taken in a while since Shinjuku. Since you’d been gone. “I missed my wife.” And the two of you knew you should alert Shoko by now, but you only stay still- with you nearly in his bed by now.
For what felt like hours. Years.
“Yeah? Well, I- I missed you, too. I thought I lost you.” You wince, “I’m sorry for departing so suddenly.”
It was sincere - but the feeling of Gojo’s smirk pressing up against the side of your thumping pulse almost makes you reconsider it. “I know how you can make it up to me, wifey~”
Scoffing, he was really ramming up the ‘marriage’ part of your relationship by now. “Nothing with buttons or mopeds or-”
“No no-” Lurching back slightly, the plush, puckered fringes of his lips lean in oh-so-closely. Until you could practically taste the saccharine sugar of his heated breath, “You know, I never got to kiss the bride.”
Oh.
Oh.
Then he’s kissing you- and you’re kissing him. And it’s all that you’ve ever wanted with the sharp, pointed ends of Gojo’s canines digging into your bottom lip to drag you back.
Drinking you in like a man parched- he’s finding life in your mouth. Slipping his tongue in past the spit-glossed crevice of your mouth and uttering a hot pant. “Please-” Manhandling you with his strong, scarred arms up to straddle him on the rickety mattress. “Please.”
And you’ve never heard the strongest beg like this.
Never heard him flutter his droopy lashes and look at you through starved, feral eyes. A translucent bubble of spittle sparkling by the end of his swollen lips, “P-please.”
Never heard him stutter.
Clearly he’s reading something in your sultry eyes because Gojo’s hastily shuffling the two of you down the bedsprings. Head hitting the puff of his pillows, your ass hitting his sharp pelvis.
Your fiancé holds you upright and rubs a clawing hand doooown the back of your spine, toying with the metallic zipper on your sorcerer’s uniform skirt. “Fuck that about hah- not marrying you.” He’s crooning out in a throaty tone, strands of white nearly covering his greedy gaze. “M’ready to consummate our marriage right here, right now.”
“B-but Satoru- you just woke up-”
“So?” There’s something deep n’ dark in his tone that made shivers skitter up your spine. Attempting to clench your thighs together but all it does is make your outer pussy push against the smooth path of his white happy trail. “Your husband’s the strongest, sweetheart.”
And then you’re being roughened up- then your skirt’s bearing the brunt of being almost torn clean off your hips.
Gojo barely even registered his power, not giving two shits if it meant that he got to admire your pale blue panties up close and personal. A firm hand groping your right cheeks help push your clothed pussy up until your slit strikes the edge of his chin, thighs now straddling his pretty, pretty face.
Rosy lips purring over that darkening wet splotch between your legs, “Bon appétit.”
“Shut up and just- oh, fuck!”
He’s flopping the pinkish crown of his tongue out just enough to dab a lil’ dewdrop of spit between your swollen pussylips. And it’s just all that it takes for the first taste of your saccharine pussy to coat his tastebuds-
“O-oh!” He gasps, his hazed peripherals widen. You’re faintly registering the way that the shiny overhead lights of the private room flicker-
Gojo grins as you gape, “Did you just…”
“Guess m’not in control anymore.” He’s snickering, stuffing himself nose-deep into your cunt. And there’s such a primal hunger in him, the way he’s not even caring for your poor, sodden panties before he’s hanging his jaw open and slide-slide-sliiiiding the edge of his mushy tongue up n’ down your folds. “Heh-” A light goes out somewhere down the corridor. “Whoops.
He’s whacking his jawline on the soft inner parts of your thighs and it still isn’t close enough. Tilting his head just so to slip his damp muscle between your ruined fabric.
“Shit- shit, your tongue is sooo big.” You find yourself keening, hips rocking back and forth at a mindless pace. And, truly, you now knew why Gojo talked so much because his tongue was so-very-lengthy, already circlin’ your sticky hole, “Like you better- hck! better like this.”
And the way he looks at you gets you even more drenched, haplessly watching as Gojo opens his throat wide enough to let the cloying droplets of your slick fall down to his maw.
“Oh yeaaaah–?” Gurgling already with the beads of sap that soak the lower half of his face, he’s starin’ you right into your fluttering eyes once he’s tugging your panties to snap! back on your heated core with an index. “Whaddaya gonna do about it?”
Before you can answer - before you can even think, the very tippy-top dome of his fingertip coils slimily down your naked slit. He feels you - so soft n’ warm - for the first time and pants. “Gonna ngh- argue with me from here to make up for it? Hmmm—?”
Almost as if on cue, your pert pussy is letting out the rawest lewd squeeelch at his touch. Bucking wildly, “Are you all talk or what ngh-”
“Looks like you’re all talk.” And you seriously were so wet that it was dripping down Gojo’s handsome chin, rovering a few more solid inches of his index to keep pryin’ your cunt apart with a wet plap!
Then a second inch- and a second finger.
His probing fingers are so big that the gummy channels of your walls have to mold to each size and measurement just to take him. “Look at ya- taking me in sooo well but ya don’t even- sit-” One of his hands claws on your left ass cheek to hold you down where you were hovering your weight, the other sinking in—
You’re squealing at the press of his thick, knobbled middle finger curving against one of your most tender spots. “What if I suffocate-”
“Then suffocate me.”
“You just came back to life.”
“I came back to life just to ngh- see this pretty pussy.” Gojo snarls up at you, tugging you down. Pulling you. Manhandling you. He just wanted to French kiss your pussy until he had that smart mouth of yours stupid. And those silly lil’ panties were a barrier-
Within seconds, he has shreds of your underwear tattered and ripped between his pearly whites.
Looking like a fucking animal once he’s finally sitting you down properly and stuffing himself so deep that you nearly see his pale, straight nosebridge disappear between your folds.
Snaking his tongue to stuff and stuff where two of his fingers were pumping in n’ out in n’ out in n’ out. You were being dually stuffed open, the sting of him stretchin’ you out and swiping the gooey bottom of your core just delicious.
“Don’t mind- haaaa-” Breaths ragged, movements sloppy. Gojo wastes no time in pursuing his delicate lips and spitting, “-dying now that I got ta see her. Now that I got to- hck- taste.”
Hand shaking where he slides it along your thigh, breaths stuttered.
He’s feeling your slick waterfall down with every lap and slash of his tongue, bearing no mercy. Your thighs rendered all jittery and sleek with a sheen of syrup every time he flicked the tip of his tastebuds on top of your clit.
“I’ve been so fucking thirsty- sooooo fucking thirsty.” Gojo whines, and you swear his baritone voice cracks. Hitches. Hips rutting up into the empty air, “You know how long I’ve wanted this- do you have any. Fucking. Idea?”
He sounds genuinely ruined, spitting back into your treacly pussy just to follow the wad dooown the seam of your pussy with his tongue.
A third finger puckers ‘round the edge of your entrance, and you’re whining once Gojo lazily slugs the first pad inside and scrapes the roof of your cunt. “Please- since when- ngh- s-since…”
Giggling, higher-pitched than usual. “Oh, sweetheart- you don’t even wanna know.” You’re whimpering when he’s swatting down the velvety edge of his tongue on your sensitive nub three times before pulling away. Smack-smack-smack. “Spit in my mouth n’ I’ll tell you, h-heh.”
Breathless, “What did you just ask—?”
“Scared?”
And Gojo’s pale brows raise when you’re hunching forwards just enough to grab his clammy cheeks, streaming out a glittery streak of spittle straight into his ajar mouth. “Not if it gets you t-to- shut up-”
You spit in his mouth, and from the slightly-angled turn of your head you catch the way that his throbbing erection twitches.
His fingers thwack so hard your very bones rattle, and Gojo drools the knot of slick straight back through your hole. Letting the jointed bumps of his digits stretch rub your pussy all red and raw from the inside.
“That’s it that’s it.” He’s goading you on, scouring the searchlights of his digits inside of you for that one fragile target. And you’re feeling him poke his fingertips into the nooks n’ crannies near your g-spot, making you see stars. “I’ve wanted you to shut me up- use my ngh- face since I fucking knew what it was. Heh- if you’re not scared-”
“As if I’d be scared-”
“Prove it. Ride me.”
“I am-”
“Not enough.” Within just a single blink of your glassy eyes, Gojo’s raising his non-dominant hand up with enough cursed energy that the neglected ol’ blindfold strewn on the edge of his bed flies into his grasp.
Twisting his thick fingers over the silken fabric, circling it over your neck and immediately hauling you further down- “Ride me. Ride the st-strongest like you own it- h-haaaah- I’m your husband, aren’t I?”
With every word, with every second he’s thrashing four exact strikes of his fingertips scraping your poor g-spot. Slurring out a damp sluuurp every time your sheeny pussylips are gobbling him up.
“Yes- hck! yes.”
Grumbling, sleazy grin just glued to the knobbly tip of your clit. “Yeah- yeah, then use me like I am.”
Kissing right back every time he’s surging his head up and mazing the flexible ends of his tongue muckily. It’s so wet n’ long that you’re damn near feeling the scrape of his tastebuds by your favorite spot, sloppily—“D-don’t think m’gonna last, Satoru.”
Gojo audibly, pornographically moans as you start carnally hastening your tempo.
Cumming on his face- fuck, this was the wettest of his dreams all those long, lonely nights. In response he only latches his strawberry-pink lips against your cunt further, feeling every hot gush flood his throat.
And you were so close that Gojo was drooling- pupils stirrin’ around the whites of your eyes with every circle of his thick tongue, throat cracking with whines every time he’s slushily spearing your pussy with his fingers. Over n’ over.
Rovering alllll around to prick your tenderest areas with- fuck, now four of his fingers.
Your husband spikes the edge of your g-spot, hard. Pulling you down with the corner of his blindfold just to dig his finger in deeper, “W-wanna cummm— ngh- please.”
“Call me husband.” He cockily smiles over the rim of your cunt where he was devouring you like a feast. “Call me- nghh- husband and I’ll let you cum.”
“Please-” Grabbing a fistful of his hair to shove him deeper and hopefully quieten his teasing. “-h-husband.”
Gojo groans like he’s the one cumming, “Ohhhh- again. Louder.”
“Husband-”
“Again.”
“Husband– Toru–!” Pouting stubbornly, “Unless you fucking can’t- oh, fuck.”
Both you and the protesting bedsprings sing out in embarrassing synchronization once he’s shoving you into your high with a soft, sudden zap–! of one jujutsu-coated fingerpad across your g-spot. “Cumming- nghhh- m’cumming m’cumming–!”
And it feels so good you lose your vision to pure white, it feels so good that you can only throw your head back and ride him through each one of your peaks.
Milking the highs of your orgasm in repeated, filthy drags of your hips that knock the top of your glazed slit against his buttony nose. Whack!
“O-ohhh—” Gojo throws his head back at the sheer, sensual motion. It just feels so good having you slickly rovering your pussy over his gaping maw, chasing the heat of his tongue slithering across your clit. Your sweet insides squeeze around his long fingers that Gojo thinks he could just cum right then n’ there.
And he almost does.
Almost- with almost inhuman reflex, he’s sneaking his free hand underneath the covers to plug up his leaking, red-hot orifice. Drivelling out a few creamy cobwebs of pre before he can plop his thumb over it. Close one.
You ogle with a parted mouth as he grits his teeth hard enough that the plane of his neck throbs with a few veins, “Fuh-fuuuck–!”
And if you didn’t know any better, you’d have claimed that sounded like a whine.
A whimper.
But before you can call Gojo out on it, he’s sitting nearly ramrod straight against the cool metallic headboard. Starchy blankets - all drenched and coated at the hem with your trickling sap - all but thrown to the bottom of the bed.
“Don’t worry- hah-” Suddenly, you feel something hot and moist gliiiiide between your puffy core. And it was so thickly curvy that your folds are being smeared apart as much as possible, “Made sure to save the big one for when m’inside, sweetheart.”
Mewling, “Big one?” Pathetically swaying your mouth open the moment he starts suckling on your tongue like some cute candy, “You sure about that?”
“See for yourself, my wife.”
You don’t know what to gape at more.
What Gojo Satoru looks right now - eyes hooded, face flush, ivory tendrils of hair slicked back with sweat, several layers of sickly sweet slick stuck from the tops of his cheeks and gleaming down to his jawline - or the way that his cock looks like right now.
He was completely naked underneath, and you’re mentally counting about nine inches- possible even ten. Ten inches of solid, barreling length scrubbed all red n’ raw with ribbons of precum. Bursting out from the hole at the top of his fat mushroom tip and all the way down to the soft white hairs at his base.
Drenched.
And Gojo gives the left of your ass cheek a good spank when it seems like you won’t be talking any time soon. Too hypnotized. “There there- big, huh?”
You’re huffing, “Y-you wish.”
“No need to liiiie- s’all yours.” Something in him cracks when he bucks up ever-so-slightly to let the shiny bulge of his cocktip scrape down your slit, mixin’ a heady concoction of white pre and slick that makes him salivate. “Look at her- she’s sayin’ she wants more.”
“You’re pussydrunk.” Such loud squelching noises that he jerkily lurches his head closer to listen to, as if his favorite song.
“Hell yeah I am, my wife.” With a raspy chuckle, Gojo slips the circle of his divot just underneath your swollen folds and hisses. “Now- I won. Your husband ngh- won today, why don’tcha gimme my reward, sweetheart?”
Oh-so-ready to make him cry on your tongue, you eagerly start snaking your hand downward.
Fist almost enclosed around the bulky cylinder of his hilt before he stops you right there. V-line hitting your pelvis as he fucks up, up, up-
“Nononono- another time. Right now…” Gojo slouches back, liiiicking that candied glaze of your juices off of his right hand. One by one. Before cushioning it underneath his head and watching you through sexy half-lidded eyes. “How do you want me?”
You hum, pretending to tap your chin in thought. “How you’ve wanted ta- ngh- have me, Toru–”
How he’s dreamed of having you.
Of shoving his thick cock between your pussy folds and fucking that smug smile off of your face while you tried to snap back at him. And his body moves before his brain.
Your back hitting the dampened sheets, your shirt and bra puddling onto the floor.
He doesn’t think he can breathe, he doesn’t even think he can think—especially when he sees that pink plastic ring pop as a pendant on your necklace and leans down to kiss it.
Every ounce of blood sprinting down from his hotly melted mind to balloon up his shaft so hard and cherry-red. Gojo’s tip is practically bawling by the time he’s flipping the two of you over and swiping the hard, aching bulge of it down your cunt.
Your thighs on his shoulders, his pelvis against your ass.
Eyes widening—a mating press. A fucking mating press.
Gojo’s barely even done folding you completely in half before he aligns the round, spheroid edge of his cockhead to crown your sloppy hole and rut. Gasping, he shuts his eyes firmly at the warmth. “Wanted this.”
“O-oh fuck–” Coming your jittery fingers through Gojo’s sweat-splattered hair. He’s just so big that just the feeling of his globular tip makes you see white.
“Wanted this wanted this- wanted this.” Gritting his teeth, furiously. He’s hiking his thighs up so that yours are pushed all the way up to hit your tits, bending you with all his powerful strength. “Have no idea how long- I’ve wanted you like this. Always in this position.”
“Why this one?” It was so filthy - even for him.
“What? Your husband’s the ngh- strongest and you expect him not to put you in a mating press the minute he sees you?”
Spanking the slivery slit of your cunt with one hand, Gojo fucking angles his head and grins at the slight puddle of sap that collects on his wrist.
“So soft n’ sweet-” He bends his knobbly thumb in to twist the button of your clit, licking his pink lips lazily at the way your arousal glitters further soaked. And it wasn’t just that- your husband was just so girthy that he’s tuggin’ your entrance apart to fit his heavy shaft inside. “Oh, always wanted this pretty hole begging f’me.”
Just as he speaks, Gojo slips yet another inch inside and makes your oversaturated pussy keen. “B-bold of you to assume- ngh- I’m the one begging.”
“Ohhh- she’s not?”
“She- fuck!”
Before you can even speak, he’s rolling his sculpted hips and slamming your spit-glued mouth shut. Cooing down with fluttering lashes, “What was thaaaat–?”
You feel a damn sob break at the back of your voicebox at the feeling of his rounded slit lodging against the treacly roof of your cunt. So wet that he’s constantly rubbin’ his veins back and forth on your walls, half-ruts. Half-thrusts. Just to fit in. “Fuh-fuck you!”
And then you’re swearing that Gojo grows harder. Bigger.
The corner of his head swelling up to an even thicker circumference that strikes your soggy cervix with a plop!
He’s bottoming out with a breaking tone, “Who’s fucking who now?”
And now that you’d given him an inch, he was taking a mile.
Fucking you into the rickety clinic bed like he was trying to stop your cute, arguing mouth from shrilling out. Every swab of his bulging cock enough to make your tongue flood with cockdrunken spit, he pounds his entire length into you like he hates you.
Slap!
So hard that the skin on his prominent v-lines stains completely red. And Gojo isn’t even feeling the pain, he’s only spanking hard abs into your front again. And again. And again.
Mouth falling into a sagged oh! as Gojo tilts his head down and watches when your geysering cunt swallows him up from the ruby-red tip to the bulk of his base. Heavy balls just peeking out cheekily.
All the way up until his pure white tufts of hair scratchily massage your clit and make you rut. “There- there.” The flat mountains of his palm come creeping down your tummy to press as he sliiides inside. With a smile, “Inside. Fuck- it’s inside. Can feel me all deep inside, s’like you’re hngh- made for me.”
“S’just s-sooo big, though!” You’re whimpering once he rubs over the callous of his thumb right at the bumpy point of his mushroomy head spearheading in.
Gojo grunts, “And what happened to me being small~”
You clench in response- the only thing you can do. And it’s like the entirety of the chamber tenses with something thick coating each atom of the air.
You just had to clench once and his cursed energy was lapping. Out-of-control.
So powerful that it might just be enough to cause alarm-
“Oh.” As if alerted by something invisible, Gojo raises his free arm towards the door. Lengthy lashes coating with a flicker of blue lightning- before, like nothing ever happened, he’s back to rutting and rutting. In long, methodical strikes of his bashing, bulbous head. Probing deeply into every ridge.
Before you can ask what was the matter, there’s the metallic jiggling of the hospital doorknob. Locked - by his power.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
“I-is anything the matter in here?” Someone- you think it might be Ijichi - calls out from the other side. “The cursed levels were just so high that-”
“Listening to the voice of another man when I’m the one fucking you?” Gojo snarls out, two of his battle-hardened fingertips swatting the side of your cheek so that you’ll stop staring at the door.
Not when he was looking at you like that.
And not when he was the one unsticking your left hand from the side of his muscular obliques, gently kissing your ring finger even though he was drilling into you ferally. “Don’t you think of anyone else when- haaah- I’m the one fucking you-” The fangs of his canines bite in to the flesh of your digit, “Not when I’m your husband.”
“Wh-what if he hears—”
The end of your whine is caught up in his mouth, gnawing down on your lower lip and draaagging. “So let him.” He melts his glissading abs down onto your core, making you feel every bump and scar. “Let him- fuck. S’our long overdue honeymoon- and you’re gonna fucking- take- it-”
Mewling, “Fuck- fuck yes. More.”
It’s like those words have him going mad.
Gojo’s slick orifice grovering into the very bottom of your pussy, he tugs back on the blindfold dangling ‘round your neck to arch you further. Letting his zig-zagged veins creep down your g-spot, precisely.
“Yes- fuck. Your husband.” Repeating and repeating every time he hits your sweet splotchy areas. “M’your husband” And then he clings onto your clit, then he twists his wrist and lets the pads of his digits buzzzz–! with cursed energy. “Your husband.”
Almost as if he couldn’t believe it.
He’s departing his breath out in a scalding breeze every time you squeeze. Bodily shoving apart the inner parts of your legs with his large, flexing shoulders.
“Please- please please-” You’re wailing out utterly raw, the top of your throat feeling like it was clogging up after every ba-thump–! of his sweetly leaking cock probin’ every space inside your cunt. Swelling up so big that it was almost hard for you to clench- “Feels so ngh- good–”
“Yeaaaah–? Your husband’s makin’ you feel all good, huh?” The strongest couldn’t even give a shit about the way your screams were reaching a fever pitch.
Faster, sloppier.
Fingers starting to stain with a bright syrupy coating of your slick, he doesn’t even mean to- but he can’t help the way that the air touching his skin crackles with energy. Drawing out hearts on your perked clit like a lil’ bullet vibrator.
“Go on- say it.” He outlines a very obvious ‘S’ on top of your rugged nub that makes you quiver like a leaf underneath him. And then an ‘A’, a ‘T’, ‘O-R-U.’ Coaxing out your tiny whimpers, “Say my name—”
“Toru- hck! Satoru.”
He twitches, syllables taking on a shaky manner. “O-oh right, that’s my name.” Chuckling, fuck- did he forget his damn name? Just that drunk on your pussy that he’d rather just be called your husband forever and ever. His flushed face pushes forwards to bite on that blindfold and pull you back down, “Call me your heh- husband again.”
Just uttering those words makes him jolt his mushroomy, flared tip inside you until the ridge hits the door to your womb. His balls on your ass. Bruising.
You almost felt shy as he hastily brings down one of your hands to caress his rippling core. From each washboard ab to scar, sensually. “H-husband. My husband.”
Shit- he needed to make you cum now or he was going to, already feeling a steaming drop of pearly liquid empty out from his balls.
“There- there we- go-” And by now Gojo’s fucking you so hard that he’s starting to scrunch his partially-closed eyelids with the weight of big, sparkly tears of sensitivity. “Whatever my wife wants.” The crowned tip of his shaft red and swollen enough to burst, pushing and pushing. “Anything my wife wants.”
“I’m close-” You’re sobbing, reeling him in so close with a grasp of his tensed back muscles. And it was true, his Six Eyes was showin’ him the way your nerves were sizzling, the way your mouth flooded with spittle.
He counts underneath his breath. Five. Four.
Lips wobbling oh-so-adorably, “Toru, m’gonna cum. Let me cum.”
“Ohhh— s’that what you want, sweetheart?” He rolls his thumb over your overstimulated clit until you scream a yes. “Cum then.” Three. Spitting on the hills of his crowned fingerpads, Gojo makes sure they’re tight with particles of cursed energy. Two. Before spanking down- “Cum, my wife.” One.
You don’t know who cums first.
But to Gojo Satoru it doesn’t even matter- all he needs is to make sure is that you were creaming all over his ravaged cock, and that he was there to pump all his columns of wadded seed inside.
Room lights shattering, somewhere in the distance sounding with a sonic boom! Gojo fucks himself hoarse on your pussy until the expanse of his skin was littered with pure power and lightning.
“O-oh my god s’too mmm–” Your mouth dribbles with sap, gooey walls of your cunt sticking to the sides of his veiny shaft. Every tiny drag of his winding lines makes your high explode- “There’s so- hah- so much of it-”
So much that it was overspilling.
And Gojo can only glide the planes of his digits down the saccharine white sap that leaked from between your legs. Gluing his fingers to the stray gaps of your hole, and they were buzzing. “No wastin’ now.” He bites down on the plush gum of his bottom lip and still can’t hold back his snickers. “Gotta g-give you the ring- and my second button. Then take you out for a- a ride-”
He could almost laugh at the dazed confusion on your face, arching up his spine just so that his cock pummeled into you deep and stayed there.
“A ride and then a real ride. On a moped.” Giggling at his own joke, “Take you to eeeevery sweet convenience store in Tokyo you ngh- missed out on. Tell each one m’your husband and we’re having a summer wedding.” Kissing you softly, “M’thinking theme colours blue.”
That in and of itself is enough to make his drivelling orifice stream out yet another jetstream of cum, wadding up the entrance to your womb with clingy sap.
He finishes off with another lecherous slurp that makes you feel so hot inside that it was almost feverish. “A-and then what? S’this all for you big- ngh- honeymoon idea?”
“And if it is?”
“Should’ve left you at the altar-”
Gojo’s red, raw cock jolts. “Ohhhh- just for that m’gonna fuck you in every hah- convenience store, too. Maybe they’ll hear- doesn’t matter.” Grinning, he hikes up a thigh until he is gyrating just enough to swirl his pummeling length in circles. The plump curve of his balls digging into your ass, eyes glowing with blue in the darkness. “Your husband’s the strongest.”
You don’t know if you can do anything but scoff through your embarrassment, “A-and real humble, huh?”
“Well…” He tilts his head with a dopey smile, “Did I tell you that was my first time? Been savin’ myself for heh- marriage, my sweetheart.”
Fuck.
“I love you. Isn’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”
Oh- “I love you, too.”
And something in you told you that this was far from over.
Maybe it was the way that Gojo’s cock strikes the back of your cunt with a splosh of sap, slimily mazing through until it feels like he streams out a squirt of something. You’d just made him squirt- or maybe it was the way that he kisses your plastic engagement ring.
Gaze delirious. Ears red. Fucked-out.
“So…what was that they said about a Gojo heir, my wife?”
.
.
.
“The electricity has been suspiciously unstable today.” Shoko wrinkles her nose up at her completely shattered office lightbulb. The sixth today.
Urgently flicking through her notes before she made a break for her most important patient as of late - the strongest.
Or, as she knew him, that damn Gojo with a penchant for tantrums and harboring a hopeless love for his betrothed. Often both at the same time. Speaking of said betrothed, she’d already shared a hasty greeting with you once you’d first arrived here- before you practically ran to the idiot’s room, that is.
Two peas in a pod.
“We have been getting strange him-level readings on cursed energy levels in this area since a few hours ago.” Utahime grumbles, barely out of the hospital herself but already steady at work as one of the new higher-ups.
“That so? Strange.”
“Yeah, and when I asked Ijichi about it he only looked pale and ran like he saw a-”
The two gasp. In unison.
“He finally proposed.”
A/N. Wrote this with a fever (Gojo was just that hot aha).
content: fantasy au, sukuna refuses to get reader a cat, fluff, readers a former concubine that gets caught doing witchcraft, instead of punishing her sukuna turns her into his personal witch and has her do a bunch of spells to make him stronger
“Fire, huh?”
Your eyes warily trailed back to the book as he roughly flipped through it, not bothered by him lounging on your bed for once as you sat at your tea table nearby. “Mhm.”
“Learned anything new yet?” he asks, looking back up to you.
“Kinda,” you murmur, pointing up a finger and lighting a flame from it. “It’s not very useful, though.”
His eyes widened. “I want that.”
Of course, he does, you nearly roll your eyes. “The book's more for magic users, so it’s been kinda hard trying to figure out how to actually grant the ability to a non-user—don’t look at me like that.”
You can’t tell if he’s glaring or pouting.
“Then don't give me excuses.”
“I’m giving you an explanation,” you correct him. “I’m still working on it.”
He continues to stare at you like a child that’s been told no and cannot fathom why. “Work harder. The sooner you grant me the ability, the more likely you’ll get a reward.”
And suddenly, he has your full attention. Usually he’d be more insulted that he didn’t have all of it to begin with, but the small glimmer in your eye kept the thought from forming, too busy on making a mental note to bribe you the next time he wanted to pique your interest.
“What’s the reward?”
“Depends.” He gives a modest shrug, but it’s quickly overshadowed by the air of arrogance that only comes natural to him. “What do you want?”
Your mind goes blank at the thought, and after a long moment of silence, only come up with one answer. “I don’t know.”
His eyes narrow, more dumbfounded than anything given how excited you seemed at first. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I don’t know,” you repeat yourself, sounding just as surprised as him. “I feel like I already have everything I want.”
“Not even one word about your freedom,” he murmurs to himself, as if you were a lost cause.
“I didn’t think that was an option!”
“It’s not,” he says, trying not to laugh. “Most people just try to fight for it a little harder.”
You probably would if you actually felt like you were being held against your will, but you don’t mention it. He’s a man full of many ideas and the last thing he needed was another one regarding your livelihood.
“Can I get a cat?”
“No,” he answers easily.
“Wait, what?” you stammer as he begins to get up. “Why not?”
“I don’t trust them, and neither should you.”
“They’re cute.”
“You could be a god and a cat would still look at you as if it were better than you,” he begins to rant. “Just arrogant little creatures.”
You try not to laugh, he’s completely blind to the similarities he shares with them. “I’m sure I could train one to catch all the rats during the winter.”
“Don’t waste your time, they’re all entitled,” he grumbles. “And fat.”
“That’s only if you spoil them,” you laugh. “I’d raise a hard worker.”
He laughs even harder. “No, you wouldn’t. Look at how smitten you are over just the thought of one. The answer’s no. You don’t need a useless sphere hissing at you for its fifth breakfast and distracting you from your work.”
I hate you shipping discourse I hate you unnecessarily aggressive DNI banners I hate you dehumanization of those you disagree with I hate you harassment over ships or favorite characters I hate you purposeful lack of nuance I hate you false equivalencies I hate you policing how people engage in fandom I hate you actively trying to make fandom spaces hostile I hate you refusal to filter your feed I hate you making it everyone else’s problem
Malleus girlies... y'all... I beg you to play Fields of Mistria RIGHT NOW. I can't put it down because it's feeding me. I'm just a woman parched for marriageable Malleus and this shit is feeding me.
/Screenshot by ghostofseb on reddit/
I also made my farmer look as close as possible to my Yuu. Basically roleplaying right now that this is somehow an AU of their reincarnated souls and Malleus got hit with "this is what you'd look like if you were Asian." 😌
sum. pranking the lads men by replying to them with "she's busy rn."
notes. yall mamas was sick these past few days but we're so back 🤣 valko is so coming back i can feel it in my veins (im going insane without him). no warnings for this.
Feeling very self indulgent and thinking of Lilia Vanrouge saying:
“I’ve traveled to many places in this vast world. I’ve seen wonders few can see. The world is a beautiful place. But the most beautiful sight to me? It’s you. My beloved, you’re the most beautiful sight these eyes have ever held.”
Thinking of Malleus Draconia saying:
“I will live and experience many wondrous moments in the future, but none will ever be the same as those I have with you. My dearest, you are someone that will shine in my life to the end of my life. I thank the heavens for our paths crossing.”
random headcanons about luke and kieran living with sylus !
◇ Even if they are adults, Sylus dresses up as santa claus and leaves presents for them under the christmas tree. alongside with snow footprints around the base. He'd never admit it was him. Bonus if he makes some intentional noise for them to peek out during the night.
◇ Luke and Kieran go to Sylus for advice and vent to him about whatever is botherting them. If they feel anxious and really need to cry, he doesn't hesitate on giving them a hug and a space to feel safe.
◇ Sylus also goes to them when he needs to get something out of his chest.
◇ Sylus tells them about his feelings for you and they definetly go crazy. I can see him telling them that he's texting you and going "SAY THIS SAY THIS" "WHAT DID SHE SAY?" "TELL HER YOU CAN GO PICK HER UP"
◇ I just know they tease Sylus if they hear him having sex/see him with hickeys or scratches 😭 bc he goes super flustered even though he acts nonchalant about it (they would never say they heard you too, even if they did)
◇ They would call him "dad" as a joke to see his reaction and Sylus would answer right away like that's how they've been calling him since forever. "I am the closest thing you have to a father right now, so it doesn't bother me, I find it endearing. Now, tell me. What did you want to say?"
Shadow Monster x fem!reader— possessiveness, shadow tentacles, suspension, restraints, sex in a public but empty space, sensory deprivation, multiple orgasms, and creampie
It was always hard for Shadow Monster Captain to share you. Even though it was pretty inevitable given you were the only human in the Monster Apocalypse who could actually see them. They all wanted your attention, but no one needed it like he did.
Yet somehow he was the one standing guard at the abandoned library’s entrance, watching from afar as you give all of your affections to the dark gargantuan spirit who inhabits the library and is its sole reason for its withering state. No matter that it was he who offered, no insisted, he be on guard duty.
Seeing you give the other monsters the attention he so desperately craves has something dark swirling in his gut. It weakens his hold on his powers and the library grows darker as his shadows slip and begin to creep in.
The other spirits that rest on the floor and large plush chairs all waiting for their turn begin to chitter and chirp nervously. All of them speaking over the other before hesitantly turning to meet his thundering gaze.
Though you don’t appear to notice, getting up off your chair and heading toward a nearby bookshelf. Shadow Monster Captain glares back at the spirits and they immediately scatter like cowardly rats, shrieking their displeasure even as they run out of the room. Leaving him completely alone with you.
His shadows become darker by the minute, swallowing up the entire room to the point where you’re surrounded by him. Only him. It’s still not close enough. He walks over to you, his shadows coming off of him in waves. The moment you’re in reach his arms are curling around you and he’s tugging you into his chest.
A loud gasp echos against his shadows and your hands jump to the bookshelf to help steady you. Pleasure bursts in tiny shocks as you caress his shadows, an extension of himself.
“What’re you doing?” You ask breathlessly, not wanting to admit how fucking hot his silent dominance is. The things it does to you, you’re barely hanging on by a thread.
“Mine. You’re Mine,” he snarls, nuzzling into your neck.
You can feel each sharp tooth against your flesh and it only makes you that much more hotter for him. Your back arches into him on its own, pressing your ass into his growing erection. He snarls again, snapping his jaw at you in warning of encouragement you aren’t sure. Either way you don’t listen.
“Who says I’m yours?” You ask, practically moaning it you’re so turned on. Wanting so badly to finally push him over the edge.
And it does as his last flicker of restraint snaps and a fierce roar shakes the walls of the library you can no longer see clearly. He gives you no time to catch your breath as he pushes you against the bookshelf and reaches a hand between your thighs.
It takes you a moment to register the sound of tearing fabric as he rips your jeans and panties to shreds, exposing your dripping folds to the air, and not even bothering to fully undress you. It doesn’t matter, none of it does.
All he cares about is being able to sink into your tight cunt, and god, that’s the hottest thing anyones ever done to you. Reducing you to nothing but your sweet holes. And knowing how much he truly cherishes you only makes it that much hotter, his desperation for you has you gushing and making a mess of your thighs.
His thick clawed fingers push through your folds, spreading you open for him so pretty and you mewl, angling your hips and begging for him to take you. But he never touches where you need him most, claws barely just ghosting over your clit before falling back to tease your entrance.
“I say your mine, little human. And I think she does too, eh?” He rasps in your ear.
As if to prove his point he slowly pushes two of his digits in your sopping cunt. Your stomach burns in humiliation as a loud squelch pierces through the simmering tension. You can’t believe you’re so turned on, the need to curl into yourself and disappear into his shadows claws at you. But he’s making you feel so good with every torturous pump of his fingers you can’t imagine moving right now.
But just as your eyes start to flutter, ready to get lost in the sensation, he’s pulling back. The sudden emptiness has you whining without meaning to and you buck back, craving his long fingers back inside of you.
You go to say something, to beg and plead for more, when you then feel his big throbbing tip circle around your needy entrance. Every nerve in your body goes tight and you gasp, wanting so back to rock back and slam down on his cock.
His breath hits the shell of your ear and you swear you’re about to fall apart before he even gets inside of you. As if to ground yourself your nails dig into the shadows on the bookshelf and he hisses, hips jumping forward instinctively as he starts to push into you. But he quickly stops himself, panting as heavily as you are.
“Tell me. Tell me you’re mine,” he demands, tone as dark as his shadows.
You nod frantically but already you know it won’t be enough. He growls in response, putting just the tip in and your pussy immediately clenches around him, trying to suck him in. He just won’t budge, not until you say it. So you gather all the strength you have left and finally admit it.
“I-I’m yours— Fuck— I’m yours!”
Your fierce shout fades into a vulgar scream as Shadow Monster Captain slams the rest of his massive cock inside you in one long stroke. His fierce growls vibrate against your back as he doesn’t hesitate you plunge into your tight hot pussy like a feral beast.
All you can do is hold onto the bookshelf with all you have as he fucks you within an inch of your life. The power of his thrusts force you up against the shelf with each snap of his hips. All the air is forced from your lungs, leaving only the feeling of his length filling you over and over again.
Moans spill from your lips in an endless stream as so much pleasure courses through you, you can’t even contain it. And your encouragement only seems to spur him on further, his claws sinking into your wide waist and jackhammering his cock into your perfect pussy.
He fucks you so hard your feet don’t even touch the ground anymore, his hands and his shadows suspending you in the air and allowing him to bury himself inside of you as hard as he desires.
“All mine. Finally. All mine,” he growls, his voice slipping as he forgets your language completely. Though he doesn’t stop rambling praises you don’t understand in his native demonic tongue.
His shadows tighten around your body and quiver against you, sending bolts of arousal straight to your core. Your cries grow louder with each drag of his length along your warm walls and you know you won’t be able to last much longer.
“Yes, oh my— nngh!— yes I’m yours, I swear it!” You shriek in response, vision flashing white at the intensity of your impending orgasm.
Just then you feel the tiniest tendril of a shadow rub against your clit just right and it sends you hurtling over the edge. A loud ringing fills your ears and you’re only barely aware it’s your own screams as you shake through the most mindblowing orgasm of your life.
If Shadow Monster Captain wasn’t holding you up your body would’ve given out by now. All you can do is shake, unable to move away from the overwhelming pleasure as he works you through it. Even as you clamp down around him he keeps going, unknowingly rambling about how perfect you feel around him and how gorgeous you look when you cum on his dick.
He can sense your next orgasm building so he clenches his teeth and keeps on going, already addicted to the feeling of you squeezing him. It’s only when you’re thrown into your second orgasm does he finally join you. Burying himself inside of you to the hilt, once, twice, and three more times before letting himself cum. A deep rumble builds in his chest as he pumps you full to the brim with his hot seed.
His shadows remain around your limbs possessively, unwilling to let you go. Shadow Monster Captain sags against your back, nuzzling into your neck again, and remaining as deep inside of you as he can be.
Slowly but surely his shadows recede and the light from the library windows trickle back in. But still he doesn’t let you go and you know he’s still thinking about his claim on you. You are too but his next words are what finally take you out.
imagine skinny dipping in ur favorite calming lake. u’ve done this about a hundred times now without issue or interruption.
as large ripples barrel through the water, though, you quickly realize this time will be different.
of course, ur used to tiny ripples bubbling to the water’s surface; like all lakes, this one is home to a myriad of small fish and other animals. but the ones ripping through now could almost be considered waves, and ur powerless to escape them or whatever’s creating them.
u feel even more powerless as a long, slimy appendage wraps itself around one of ur legs. panic overtakes ur body as you flail around, afraid whatever it is will drag u underwater.
instead, another appendage wraps around ur waist to hold you steady. it caresses your stomach soothingly and surprisingly calms u down. u begin to wonder just how many limbs this creature has as two more tentacles encircle your body.
one makes its way to ur chest as the other slithers between ur legs. the one on ur chest immediately latches onto both of ur breasts with suction cups, tugging ur nipples and making u shudder in pleasure.
the tentacle between ur legs teases ur entrance before slowly entering ur pussy. the slime coating the appendage makes it slip easily inside despite its thick size.
u moan loudly from the stretch as u go lightheaded from all the sudden stimulation. u think u might actually pass out when the tentacle starts thrusting in and out of u.
the one wrapped around ur waist lifts u up and down in time with the thrusts. a string of moans and whimpers leaves ur mouth as the tentacle continuously buries itself deep inside u.
u feel like it's hitting ur cervix, and the harsh suction on ur nipples is making ur entire body all the more sensitive. it isn’t long before one particularly brutal thrust sends u over the edge.
tears prick the corners of ur eyes as ur body convulses in pleasure. before ur even able to catch ur breath, the limb around ur waist tightens and pulls u under…
Thinking about tentacle!roommate who gave you a copy of his cock for your birthday…
It was stupid, it really was. You never intended to use the cock you roommate gave you as a gag gift last year, you swear! It’s just…you got so curious and all of your other sex toys just aren’t the same anymore….
So, you went digging at the back of your closet where you hid the box behind some old clothes. The box is black and sleek, a simple gold design engraved on top. The top opens like a shoe box, inside a large, veiny, purple dildo sits, waiting for you. You swear you’ve seen it somewhere before..or something just like it? Whatever, you’re too horny to even think about that right now.
You slowly drag your panties down your thighs and they fall onto the floor. The bed feels squishy underneath you as you slowly spread your legs apart to reveal your aching pussy, god you need to feel this dick, right now.
Your fingers gently spread open your pussy lips, a string on gooey pre-cum sticks to your lips, connecting them. Two fingers glide up and down your pussy, smearing your syrupy liquid.
Once you feel you’re ready, you take the dildo out of the box and give it a small kitten lick. Then, you lick a large stripe from the base to the top and suck the large, purple tip. You let out a moan that causes a vibration to rumble through the dick. As you fuck the dildo with your mouth, you realise something, is that….cum? You watch as sticky cum spurts out and bubbles, falling down the veiny cock. Damn, you roommate must have spent a fortune getting this!
The cock twitches as you begin pumping it with your hand, wet with the fake cum and your own. You watch in fascination as the cock keep spilling more and more cum, its spills down the sides and onto your hand. You lick a fat stripe up the cock, laying your warm tongue flat, sucking up the cum. Honestly you don’t even know what this fake cum is made of, it taste extremely real!
Once you feel it’s lubed enough you bring it down to you cunt. The wet cock moves up and down your pussy, parting your wet lips and prodding at your clit. You spread you legs even more and let the cock enter your pussy. You slowly put the dildo into your warm, wet cunt and when it’s fully in you let it sit for a moment. Then you begin to move the dildo in and out of your cunt, wet spurts of liquid gush out from the side of the dildo, running down your hands and onto the bed below you.
God, it’s feels so fucking good. You can feel it so deep, fucking you hard and fast. The sounds were lewd and disgusting. Wet squelching fills the room and breathy moans escape your hoarse throat. Fucking hell, you swear you can feel it twitch and leak inside of you. The fake cock fucks you relentlessly, hitting you g-stop repeatedly and pushing against you clit at the same time. Your eyes roll back and your legs are flayed in the air, you’re gonna cum so fucking hard.
At the other side of town, your roommate sits, cock engulfed deep in your fat pussy. He feels every fucking inch of your cunt creaming around him. He honestly can’t believe you’re actually using it…the copy he had made of his big cock just for you to use as you please.
Do you know it’s his actual cock? He should tell you, right? Right now he doesn’t even care, all he can focus on is you warm creamy cunt suctioning his tentacle dick.
He rams into you with ruthless force, hitting your g-stop repeatedly, cum spurts from every angle, spraying both of you.
You swear it’s moving on its own! Its tentacles drag against your warm walls and slam back into you with merciless force. Creamy cum drips down the side of his dick and falls onto you sweet pussy making you moan and squeal.
You can hardly fucking breathe, all you can think about is the feeling of his dick inside you. Your toes curl and eyes squeeze shut as your orgasm hits you hard, so fucking hard.
Creamy cum squirts out of your pussy coating the cock in even more liquid. Your moans squeal out as you keep the dick’s relentless pace on your poor aching pussy. The stream of cum doesn’t stop, not while the cock keeps fucking you, The cock begins to convulse inside of you, it tentacles gripping onto every inch of your sore pussy, a load of cum shoots deep inside of your vagina.
Oh my god, did it just cum??
When your orgasm ends you lay there idle for a moment. You slowly pull the dildo out of your cunt, the tentacles drag against you sensitive inner walls making you suck in a breath.
As the cock falls out, streams of white, sticky cum falls out with it. There’s so much, you take the dick and drag it through your cummy pussy feeling the cock one last time. It slaps against you throbbing pussy a couple of times before you let out a soft moan.
At a human fetish bar for aliens, the waitresses are taking bets on something. The winner has to drink a mystery liquid and must go about her shift as normal. Dear old y/n is the winner and her breasts and nipples start to feel pretty sore. Then her breasts start getting bigger. Customers start to notice, and glue their eyes when her tits start pressing against her top and leaking profusely. y/n is trying to do her job but is getting really turned on from all the eyes on her. Luckily a tentacles alien that helps her out by publicly milking and fucking her.
The tentacle alien watches you struggle all night.
He watches you trying to take orders and balancing trays while your swollen, leaking tits bounce and ache under that too-tight top you wear for work. Dark wet patches bloom across the fabric with every step you take between the tables and under the burning stares of the others. You are a mess. A breathless, panting mess with sore nipples and dripping pussy.
So, of course he offers his help.
Well... offers is perhaps a generous word for it...
You are up on the bar counter, skirt bunched up around your hips, knees spread wide to give way to the ridged tentacle that slams deep into your soaked pussy over and over until your vision blurs. It stretches you open until your eyes roll and your thoughts scatter. Every thrust sends jolts of raw pleasure up your spine as your pussy clenches greedily around the slime-slick limb that makes your juices pool on the wooden surface beneath you.
Another appendage has your wrists pinned tight behind your back, offering your milk-drenched tits to the crowd like a prize. Your shirt is forgotten on the floor somewhere, and your bra is yanked down under your breasts. They are massive now, forcing your back into an arch that has you mewling while two more tentacles latch onto your puffy nipples. They are raw, throbbing, so sensitive you could come just from the milking alone.
And the whole bar is watching you struggle between pain and pleasure, but you don't really care about them because all you feel is the fat tentacle ruining your cunt and the vicious milking of your tits. You’re nothing but a leaking, trembling, overstimulated mess, and you’re about to come so hard you might black out in front of everyone.
