cloudychoso

[cloudychoso]

taking nerdjo’s glasses while you’re riding 🥸

cw. 18+. semi public sex. sub undertones. breeding kink.

“—ohhhh fuckkkkk,”

he doesn’t understand it— any of it. he doesn’t understand how he, of all people, managed to get you. the it girl on campus— with pretty hairstyles and cutesy nails, flocks of both girls and boys crawling after you for the slightest bit of your attention, is somehow interested in the least known guy around— the lanky, socially awkward physics teacher assistant with fading digimon stickers glued to the back of his worn down computer.

gojo assumes he’s experiencing one hell of a good dream. that’s the only way to explain the insatiable feeling of wet heat enveloping his aching dick. it’s the only way to explain the pornographic sounds of skin slapping echoing in this empty library. it’s the only way to explain why his balls are begging for release with each grind of needy hips rocking against his own.

he doesn’t want to wake up. he feels the cheap fabric of carpet beneath his fingernails from digging them into the floor. his knuckles are turning white from how hard he’s clenching. there’s an abnormal tightening of a knot in his guts begging to be snapped. he can feel beads of sweat forming at his hairline and his foggy glasses are slipping past his nose bridge uncomfortably—

but he doesn’t want to wake up.

planted on the heels of whatever latest trendy shoes you own, you’re riding his cock as if he were your lifeline. god you feel divine— your folds swallowing him into your cunt with such ease and precision, walls clenching down the moment he’s balls deep. he can feel your acrylics scratching at his undercut with one hand while the other holds your body steady down his thigh.

gojo doesn’t think he’s breathing, and frankly, isn’t sure if he wants to. you’re reckless— moaning freely in the emptiness of the establishment and right into the shell of his ear as if your birthright, careless of the thuds of heavy textbooks hitting the floor. there’s a crease in your brows and your jaw hangs slack, glossy lips parted as they release the hymns of your cries,

“—so deep, can feel you in my stomach!”

your tits bounce in clockwise motions. you’d freed yourself from your top sometime between the flirting behind bookshelves and his pikachu drawls dropping down to the floor. the sound of your pussy squelching with every bounce is a memory he wouldn’t forget even on his death bed— cunt so wet he can hardly feel his own dick in you.

the pad of your thumb grazes his bottom lip, and you lean forward to catch it between yours. he’s frozen stiff— the slip of your tongue in his mouth, your overwhelming sweetness invading his senses. he’s moaning pathetically, growing some security in the muffled sounds, so overstimulated by this insatiable pleasure that his arms start to feel weak.

your tongue swipes at his lips before nibbling on the flesh, “—taste so good,” he feels your lips mouthing against his own, and wishes he was able to focus for a split second on what you told him, but the ache in balls are a telltale that this euphoric dream is drawing to an end.

he squints his eyes shut. he tries to focus on the latest chapter of his latest obsession manga and theories he’s conspired. he recalls the sneak of his wrinkly old professor’s ass crack from his early lecture. he thinks back on this auction he’s seen online for retro limited edition video games. did he ever end up submitting that biochem lab assignment due—

“gojo.”

he snaps his eyes open. he didn’t realize he’d clenched his entire facial muscles until the moment he was able to see you again— only releasing those muscles feeling tightness in his cheeks (amongst other places)(read: his cock).

you’ve slowed down your pace. you’ve switched your movements from bounces to grinding. he can feel his tip prodding at your gummy walls. your breath fans his cupid’s bow and he’s only now noticing how close in proximity you both are. he can feel your heartbeat against his chest, and he’s positive you can feel his stomach clenching against your own.

he begins to feel more of your body weight on his, a feeling he definitely wants to get accustomed to, as you shift from your feet to your knees. your hand on his thigh trails upwards past his trail of hair, sliding up past the ridges of his abs, over the planes of his chest and meet at his nape with its other duo. there’s an aroma of vanilla and cherries exuding off you—

heisenburg’s uncertainty principle. star wars mandalorian culture. the roswell ufo incident. fucking neon genesis evangelion’s a cruel angel’s thesis—

“you don’t like me?” you ask him, all doey eyed like. it doesn’t sound like a legitimate question, but his ‘huh’ does draw more into a whine when you intentionally clamp down on his dick. he doesn’t miss the mischievous glint in your eyes.

gojo bites down on his lower lip, fiddling with a loose thread on the carpet. his body releases a shudder at the chills creeping up his spine when you trace a finger down the slope of his neck, “w-what?” he asks weakly, huffing as his toes curl in his socks.

this time, you cock your head just barely to the side, and he watches your gaze trail from his lips to his eyes and back to his lips. despite the agonizingly slow pace, you never stop riding him. his cock is still graced by your warmth, still snatching his soul through his slit. your lashes bat twice before glancing back up at his eyes.

“you don’t like me.” you’re not asking this time, your tone dripping in seduction and like a fool, finds himself swayed. you’re teasing him— he can see it in the way the corner of your lips quirk into your infamous smile. you’ve got him wrapped all around your pretty finger— he knows it and you definitely know it.

as if he was anybody to not like you. your ass cheeks clench when you drive your body forward, gripping on his cock so tight he can feel the wind knocked out his lungs, “no! are you, ngh, crazy— of course i do—”

“because i like you.” it falls short of a whisper, but the vibrations of your words against his lips shoot right to his heart and balls, and he knows his blotchy cheeks are now flushed red for an entirely different reason.

he answers faster than his mind can process, his stomach jumping with butterflies and an oncoming orgasm. your eyes won’t leave his— like a deceiving siren baring deep into his soul and rendering him vulnerable before consuming his entire being. not too far from his reality, hips bucking upwards as desperately as possible to emphasize his immediate answer, “i like you too—”

“you won’t look at me,” gojo hadn’t realized he shied away from your gaze, pouring his entire focus on not spilling both his heart and cum right into you, “talk to me.”

“i-it’s just, um,” he tries to flick his eyes back onto yours, but you’re still staring so intensely behind siren eyes and still rocking your hips. your fluids drip past your cunt and down his sack, before staining the carpet, “i’m a—mmph, nobody and you’re— well, you’re you,” he feels a hot tongue glide over the accumulated sweat on his neck and humps up again, “y’re just so pretty and every time i look at you i get the urge to c-cum but,” your teeth sink into his jugular before nibbling and he whines, throwing his head back, “i want— need you to cum first. . .”

there’s a beat of silence for a while. you’ve even halted your grinding altogether. he prays to god he didn’t mess up the one good thing that’s happened to him in all his twenty one years of living. you’ve even popped his now bruised skin from your lips— hovering right over the mark you left on him. pleasure licks at his limbs feverishly, back arching in hopes to dig even deeper (if possible) in your pussy.

you pull away from his neck and the tip of your nose is back to grazing his own. your usually styled hair is now a mess, your skin dampening from moisture and your lip gloss now swapped for your and his saliva— your overall classic, picture perfect image completely abandoned,

and he doesn’t think you’ve looked any prettier.

“so,” you draw out, freeing a hand from his locks to graze over the throbbing love bite at his neck. gojo sniffs, pushing his foggy glasses back up on his bridge with the back of his hand, and you caress the throbbing flesh, “the problem is when you look huh. . .?”

his neck is suddenly released from blissful torture and he feels his frames coming off his face from no effort of his own. his vision slowly fades and his pupils dilate to accommodate to his now poor quality of sight, “what are you—”

and his breath hitches. he can only make out your shape through your sinful curves but there’s no mistake from your silhouette— your hands, now holding his glasses hostage, press at his chest, “trust me,” you apply firm pressure from your palms to his upper body, and he feels himself sinking into the floor, back meeting the dirty carpet.

trust you? he’d lay his life on the line for a woman like you.

his fingers spread as his palms face the sky, and his breath staggered. the bookshelves, windows and study rooms are all blurry as fuck— which is both off putting and extremely risky since library hours were still valid at this time, but despite it all, it felt as if he could see you clear as day. gojo would usually never put his academics on the line, but he couldn’t deny the thrill of possibly getting caught having sex with the finest girl in school in a public library had his cock twitching incessantly.

god, he is just so happy to be here.

your fingers slide his glasses atop your nose bridge, and your cheeks split into a cheeky smile, hips beginning to roll back into their previous tempo. he feels your hands grabbing his own, before resting them at your hips. he’s a greedy man, and since the opportunity may only come once in his lifetime, he slides his hands further to your ass., and with a gulp, grabs the flesh greedily. damn— it hardly fits in his palms.

there’s a symphony of moans coming from you both when you lift your hips up, and it’s downright disgusting how turned on he gets at your essence trickling down his shaft and past his balls. your pussy lips drool and latch onto his tip tightly, before entirely releasing him and slipping your hand between your thighs. you kneed his nuts, fondling the testicles between your digits expertly and his back arches off the floor, “shouldn’t be an issue anymore, yeah?” you hum.

“y-yeah— oh god, yes,” gojo nods dumbly, toes curling in his socks as you proceed to stroke his cock. his tip is weeping in pre cum blended with your own wetness, and the faster you flick your wrist, the tighter his stomach contracts. he’s lasted quite some time now, considering this being his first time and all, but there’s only so much a man can hold back. his fingernails dig crescent moon shapes into the mounds of your ass as his hips chase after your touch with every stroke. “w-wait, fuck, i’m gonna cum—”

“yeah?” you encourage him, hunching just over his weeping dick, still holding him at his base. you drag his tip in between your lips, back and forth, while your other hand feels him up at his abs. “where do you wanna finish? on my face?” he whines, mindlessly humping and your smirk deepens as you slowly sink down, “on my tits?” gojo shakes his head, and feels drool coming from the corner of his lips. his limbs are on fire and his groin feels like it’s on the verge of explosion, “on my ass?” you’re about halfway down, “or. . . inside?”

“please,” he doesn’t care if he’s begging. snowy lashes bat open as his teary unfocused eyes adjust to the dimmed lights. even your silhouette is sexy, “please lemme cum inside, i-i’ll do anything.”

“hmm, anything?” you purr, knees finally hitting the floor as you straddle him once more. he lets out a guttural groan at the familiar feel of your silky walls entrapping his cock. his mind is fucking hazy and despite never having consuming alcohol, he feels drunk.

“yes,” he pleads, rolling his hips impossibly deeper into you, euphoric pleasure shooting in his bloodstream, “a-anything you want, i swear,” at the sudden intrusion, you let out a loud gasp when his tip bumps into your cervix and drop your body forward, arms giving out.

chest to chest, skin to skin, your lips hover over his as your back dips into an arch, forcing a penetration deeper in your guts. your palms are pressed flat onto the floor at the side of his head, and he can make out his glasses sitting lazily on the ball of your nose. he slides his hands up your sides, kneading at every inch of your flesh, before sliding back down to your ass.

“even my homework? assignments?” you tease breathily, a strangled moan ripping out your throat when his knees push up and fucks into you. your body jerks forward as his feet plant to the floor, hands still gripping on your ass.

when he snaps his hips up, you roll yours down, and the matching intensity sends his brain haywire. he’s desperate for release, forcing your hips down as he nudges his cock languidly into your cunt. his jaw falls slack and he nods again, dumbly, “ngh, for the rest of the s-school year,”

“that easy with you?” you giggle, but is easily interrupted when he leans forward to catch your lips in a messy kiss. there’s a shit ton of saliva involved, some even escapes past your mouths and down your jaws, but he couldn’t care any less—you tasted heavenly. he wishes he had the time to eat your pussy, he’s positive you taste holier down there.

“it’s your world.” gojo moans, snaking his hands from your ass to wrap around your upper body. now caught in his embrace, you let your head fall limply into the crook of his neck as he works his dick in and out of you. he means what he said— it is your world, and he’s nothing more than a happy servant. “i’ll do it all— bring your books to class, rub your feet— i’ll bark if you need me to— just, please, please, please let me cum inside.”

your moans vibrating from his neck run straight to his ears and fuels him further. he’s thrusting relentlessly— there’s no set pace at all, and he’s so close to finishing he’s completely forgotten about wanting you to cum first. he finally understands why everybody obsesses over sex— he never wants to let you go.

your head pushes up from his neck, nosing at his jaw. he feels your hands cradling his hair, and your lips pressing kisses at the corner of his mouth. his heart skips a beat— he revels in the attention you’re giving him, even if it’s just for the moment. he knows he won’t ever be this lucky again, so he might as well enjoy the ride while he’s here.

“you wanna breed my pussy?” you bite your lip, each stroke in your cunt jerking the glasses down the slope of your nose. despite the dense flog clouding the lens, he can feel your eyes on him. he nods desperately, tightening his hold on you, and the new angle has your clit dragging against his pelvis, “mmph— okay, yeah — put a baby in me, freak.”

and so he does. he thrusts as spurts of cum shoots inside your womb. his balls tighten as his hips rut, arms clutching onto your body with every fibre in him. you smell good, feel good, look good— and your cunt milks him dry for whatever he’s worth.

his orgasm feels short of an eternity yet simultaneously a second, his soul having transcended into an outwardly dimension. and it’s only when you scoot your ass upwards, sliding a hand between both warm bodies, that you collect his cum on the pad of your fingers. he blinks hazily, zeroing his focus when he sees you pop your fingers into your mouth.

“mhm,” you hum at the taste. he’s panting heavily, body riding a euphoric high he’s yet to come down from. you don’t seem to mind, leaning forward to catch his lips once again. and he lets you, moaning at the taste of himself on your tongue. when you pull away, there’s a thin string of cum induced saliva pulling at your lips. “‘s my world, right? want my pussy in your mouth.”

and he instantly hardens.

[cloudychoso]

For eons, I’ve been thinking about sweet, well-mannered, farmhand!Satoru ☀️ who fucks the literal breath out of you and you guys WILL hear me out, okay?

As your father’s one and only employee, Satoru is held to incredibly high standards which essentially boil down to two, very simple rules; never show up to the farm late and never, he means never pursue his daughter romantically. Seems easy enough, right?

Or so Satoru thought.

“Miss,” a thick, meridional voice utters from far behind, “miss, pardon my frankness, but I believe you just might be the prettiest woman I have ever seen.” Satoru admits candidly, briskly jogging to match your fast-paced gait as you trudge up the hill, toward the farmhouse over yonder.

“Oh, don’t be silly now,” you dismiss, waving a banishing hand, suppressing the ever-growing giddiness that threatens to invalidate your dismissal, “my father wouldn’t like that one bit, you know that. He’ll kill you ten times over, Satoru.” Surely he’s kidding, right? Surely he would never disobey your father’s wishes… right?

Now trudging beside you, Satoru nods slowly, adjusting the rusted buckles of his muddy, denim overalls. A dispirited sigh drags from his pretty, pink lips. Of course he knows. Shoulder to shoulder, the two of you plod toward the house, his lingering gaze as subtle as a sledgehammer, but when is it not?

“I’ve been made well aware,” he finally mutters under his breath as if coming to the unfortunate realization all over again, “but you don’t make it particularly easy for me, miss… you must know that.” His voice is a deep, southern drawl — beautifully elongated vowels like silken honey, the perfect melody for battered souls.

“How do you mean?” Your hand is coming up to your face, shielding your eyes from the sun so that you can peer up at the ivory-haired man beside you. “And you don’t have to call me that y’know.”

“What? Miss?” His incredulous tone forces a giggle past your lips. “Just a token of respect is all, blame my momma,” he smiles, cheeks glowing a beautiful crimson from the parching heat, “and it’s fitting… a pretty name for a pretty lady, hm?” He’s nudging you in the shoulder teasingly.

See? Satoru is sweet. So why on this godforsaken planet does he have you painfully spread apart on your family’s dining room table? Why are his large hands pinning your thighs to the stained wood so that he can watch as your desperate, drooling pussy swallows his cock whole? Why is he leaning down to whisper debauched words of praise directly into your ear?

“Look at this wet, little pussy, goddd… you take me sooo fuckin’ well fuuuuuck, miss,” he’s deliriously tossing his head back to dangle between his shoulder blades, subconsciously yanking you closer to the edge of the rustic table, desperate to feel more of you, “like it was made for me, heh. Was this pretty pussy made for me, miss? Is this my pussy?”

It’s like switch has been flipped, like he’s possessed beyond saving and is now only a shell of his former self. Has he always been this way? Has he always had this filthy of a mouth? You’re not sure, not really. The only thing you’re sure of is the repetitive, obscene strike of his swollen balls against the fat of your ass. It’s the only thing you can hear, feel, think.

“C’monnn now… asked you a question, miss,” he’s leaning closer, mockingly cupping a hand over his ear to observe the way he fucks the breath out of you, “talk to meee, pretty, I wanna hear you. This pussy too loud, huh? Is she too wet for you to hear me?”

“It’s yours! Your p-pussy mhmm,” you cry, nodding frantically in your immense rapture, “fuuuck, you fuck me sooo good… s’good!”

“Yeah, sweet girl? You like how I fuck you?” The dark, breathy chuckle that drags from the depths of his chest renders yours mind blank as you nod dumbly. “You like how I give you everything? All of my cock?” A big, greedy hand is slipping beneath the small of your back, pulling you upright and impossibly closer. “Yeaaaah, you like that cock, look at you…” his hungry gaze is scanning over your stupid expression, “eyes rollin’ to the back of your head like that. Can’t even hear me anymore, can you?”

A pool of light washed denim surrounds Satoru’s feet, the hem of his white t-shirt tucked between his teeth, baring the sweat-ridden skin of his chest and abdomen. The bruising buck of his hips as he fucks himself deeper is only scooting the large table further and further across the hardwood floor. Even his deep, guttural moans are like kindle to an ever growing flame.

It’s always the ones you least expect.

[cloudychoso]

When I say Gojo worships your body I don't mean kisses over every inch of skin and praise straight from a porno. I mean worship.

I mean all-encompassing worship. Knees on the cold tile by your feet. Eyes sewn shut, lips parted in hummed prayer, cold hands clasped atop his thighs. A beautiful sight, an aged painting of praise. If a God had been so skilled to have sculpted Satoru, She’d rue the sight of Her magnum opus in worship of a less-than-pious soul such as yours.

I mean dramatics: recited reverence for your body, genuine thanks when you let him touch you, orgasms that send you stupid in return. Contorting your face in a less-than-heavenly way when you cum on his tongue for the fifth or sixth time. Works-based praise, a creed of lust and want and all the other deadly sins from his lips to your perfect cunt to taste. A potential eternity in the pits of hell all for the mindless way you moan his name as if you're the one knelt in worship.

I mean devotion: he's nothing if not yours and even less if not devout. Remembers each curve and scar and marking on your skin as if it were his. Each shaky inhale of breath you take when he's balls deep inside of you is stored in his mind for future reference. He knows you, every inch of you both inside and out, and he loves and worships all of it without exception.

[cloudychoso]

i just want to give junpei the biggest hug

[cloudychoso]

it’s my birthday hehe

i’m gonna try and post a geto x reader x gojo fic sometime in the next day or so to celebrate

[cloudychoso]

sugar daddy!gojo who cuts a deal with you one evening: for each orgasm he can pull from you, he'll transfer $1000 into your account. who has you on your back, sweat soaked and fucked boneless as he brings you to your eighth climax of the night.

who, instead of dirty talk, or talking you through it, he coos about all the things you'll get to buy with what you earn. "can get your nails done so pretty, oh and that bag i know you've been looking at baby," because cocky is an understatement and you're too cumdrunk to tell him to shut up even if you wanted to.

sugar daddy!gojo who pays your rent on the condition that he has his own key cut for him to use as he pleases. sometimes you'll come home to a new set of lingerie laid out on your bed. sometimes you'll open the door to flowers on the kitchen counter, other times it's diamonds.

who sometimes surprises you when you're home, too. he sneaks in as you're showering and gives you the fright of your life as he hops in with you. it's okay, though, because he makes up for the scare by dropping to his knees and eating you out with such scalding passion you barely notice the heat of the water against your skin any longer.

sugar daddy!gojo who takes you shopping with the intention of showing you off. of course people turn their heads when a pretty thing like you walks by with his hand dangerously low on your back. bags hang off his free arm full of gifts for you, who he loves spoiling more than life itself.

who can and will fuck you in the dressing room if you show him an outfit that he particularly likes. no one will notice, bar from the slightly sore gait you walk with for the rest of the day. pushes you against the full length mirror and fills you with his cum, makes you spend the rest of the day shopping with him leaking out of you.

sugar daddy!gojo who buys you a car despite always being the one to drive you around. he likes being behind the wheel with one hand inching up your thigh just a little higher at each red light. you swear he brought you your car just to show off, just to make the purchase obsolete.

who fucks you in it regardless of the fact that it never sees the road. parked in your garage it sees more movement than it ever would otherwise. he hardly fits even in the backseat, but it's worth it when his legs are splayed and you're bouncing on his cock like you have no regard for the expensive leather lined seats. not that it really matters if you mess them—he can buy another car.

sugar daddy!gojo who likes giving you your allowance in cash, just so he can have you on your knees with your lips wrapped around his cock as he lazily counts out the thousands he'll gift you. every time you make him feel particularly good, he reaches over into his safe and pulls out a few more notes to add to the pile—laughs when you moan around his cock at the sight.

[cloudychoso]

sacrifice, geto suguru ➢ geto suguru x f!reader ➢ slight yandere!geto, referenced child abuse, violence, fingering [f!rec], grinding, unprotected sex, creampie, honestly its fluff, love confessions

It didn’t take Geto Suguru long to figure out who the person he wanted to spend his life with was. His childhood neighbour, who always smiled when he would walk past the house on his way to school, was that person. He was barely eight when you first spoke, your eyes full of tears and your croaky voice muttering about a monster beneath your bed. Suguru remembers holding your hand and trying to comfort you as he promised to take care of it. And he did. Little eight-year-old Geto Suguru swallowed his first curse just so he could see his friendly neighbour smile. 

He thought it would fix everything — that the next day, when he would walk past, you would smile at him through the window instead of looking like a lost lamb. He was wrong. Though you profusely thanked him for getting rid of the monster, you never told him about the others that lurked inside. The kinds that someone likes Suguru can't take away. 

He remembers being twelve when you moved away. For someone only age eleven, your eyes held the age of eternity itself. The monsters refused to let you say goodbye to him that day. He had to instead watch you wave goodbye with your unbroken arm and the same smile he loved; not that he knew it was love yet. The sky crackled with thunder and rain when you left, Suguru knew that even nature was mourning the loss of someone like you. 

It was less than a year later when his mother showed Suguru the newspaper announcing your elder sibling's death. He couldn’t understand how his chest fluctuated from grief to relief. His mother tried to explain that it was because you weren’t the one who died; however, all she did was plant the seed of fear in Suguru’s still-growing brain. You were still with the monsters, the ones he should have taken care of those years ago when he found you crying. 

Geto Suguru understood that he had to protect you from then on. The little lamb who shivered in the rain on nights when the monsters wouldn’t let you inside. He was going to make sure nothing would hurt you again. That’s what he promised to himself that first day when he understood you were meant to be in his life. 

Five years later, at age eighteen, Suguru knew he was ready to save you from the monsters. Every moment he wasn't training alongside Gojo Satoru, he thought of the smile you gave him in what you assumed was a final goodbye. He wasn't going to let it be a final anything. You were meant to be in his life, and he was meant to devote his life to you. The ever-present casts that encased your body through childhood were his fuel to fight harder, get bigger, and grow stronger. The kind of man you would dream of rescuing you from the ivory princess tower. 

But, the little lamb he knew was already freed. Suguru felt his world bend and tilt; not even the taste of the curses he acquired was similar to the bitter understanding that he wasn't prepared. Your warm smile always shone through falling tears, which was somehow brighter than he ever remembered, and for once, your body was free of casts and bruises. The wave that followed his every step was quickly replaced with the eager one you cheered with before sprinting over to talk. 

His chest was constricted, but it wasn't the same as when he learned of your sibling’s death. It felt good. Like a warm hand was holding his heart in a hug that refused to end. Not only did you remember him, but you recognised him, even with the changing of puberty and the piercings and tattoos he decorated himself with. “Geto-kun!” It sounded even better when you were saying it with excitement instead of with the slight fear of being overheard. His heart felt like exploding. 

Suguru always knew you were meant to be with him. The bright gaze you held for the darkest world was one of the reasons that convinced him. You told him and Gojo about the past few years without ever breaking into tears, instead happily picking at the pastry that Suguru bought for you. When his hands clenched into fists as you told them about the past, instead of flinching, you just placed your hand over his and assured him that everything was different now. 

Yeah. Everything was different. You went to an actual school, you had friends, and even Suguru had a friend — one that you managed to get along with despite the flirting attempts Gojo made. Certainty affirmed in his stomach that you were meant to be. His little lamb was always destined to find the big bad wolf and curl to him for protection. And, like he promised himself all those years ago, he wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again. 

But you moved away before the year was over. Studying abroad, you cheered with him over the phone, and though he was blessed to be the one you told your plans to be, he was angry. You only just returned to his side and already you’re leaving? And… by choice? It wasn’t good. He didn’t want you to leave him. He wanted to keep you by his side while he set off to rid the world of any monster that tried to harm you. 

He started the cleanse with your personal monsters the night you flew away. The two of them cried and begged for mercy, but Suguru knew that they only laughed whenever you were stuck in their place. He ensured they felt every snap of a bone and every bruise you would hide beneath heavy clothes even through summer. When the week ended, only part of him was satiated with the blood that was spilled by his hands. 

More. There were so many that would hurt you. They were going to try and take you from him as if being by his side wasn't the safest place for you to be. Three years passed, and Suguru found himself sitting on a throne. Faceless monkeys and monsters alike bow to him as their god because that is who he made himself to be. A strong protector, your knight — a true deity. You were supposed to return from your studies abroad that day, likely with a trinket for him that was as corny as it was precious. But his revolution changed a lot about the world. 

It was all in good faith. It was all for you, after all. No one can hurt you when they're too busy worshipping you. He knew that you would get used to it and grow to love it. You had always been susceptible to compliments, even over the last three years; when Suguru would contact you, every little comment about how cute you are made you whine. Not that others were allowed to learn how you sounded like that, for your wolf was always watching and protecting you from the harm of the monsters. 

Two monkeys opened the large doors of the home, and finally, Suguru could see you face-to-face again. A gag wrapped around your mouth and a dirty blindfold over your bright eyes. Even in days old rags, tattered and ripped all over, you captivated him like no other person ever could. Track marks of tears stained the cheeks he longed to caress, and your makeup smeared from sweat and trauma. 

So beautiful. Everyone considered you a sacrifice to his cause, the lamb that gets fed to the hungry wolf, but Suguru knew that you would understand. You'd end up so thankful for his rescuing that you vow never to leave him again. Not that he would let you, of course. If you wanted to go travelling, he would have happily gone along with you if not for the flames of carnage he left curling across the entire globe.

“Praise be,” his useless followers chanted, and as usual, he felt nothing but disdain. If they didn't have money, he would have made sure they faced a similar fate to the remaining monkeys in the world. The ones that bred fear and monsters that threatened to bring you harm. All you had to do was say the word, and Suguru would slay them as though they were the dragon that guarded your tower. “Praise be!”

It was almost amusing how they thought you were another sacrificial tool he'd use to perfect himself. Even if the test of faith wasn't rigged, they were not anywhere near strong enough to be worthy of standing at his side. Useless monkeys sold to him by the monsters to try and secure safety… how pathetic. Only one sacrifice would ever be able to pass: his little lamb, the one that smiled through pouring rain as monsters sunk their claws into your skin. 

True strength. Part of Suguru would always be envious that he can not possess it, like you. He was confident you had no idea just how powerful and rare you were in the dark, dark world he had only known. But the world was finally healing — an act to prove his devotion to you. Suguru smiled behind the palm of his hand when you were led up the stairs to his platform. With such heavy breathing, you must have managed to sense that your wolf was the one you were presented to. 

With a single nod, the blindfold that obscured the bright eyes he loved to fall into was removed. You squint from the light of the fireplace and candles. It was hard for him to resist chuckling when you tried to move your wrists despite the itchy rope they were entwined with. He offered you a wave when those bright eyes he adored finally found him on the throne. Your lips formed the cutest pout Suguru had ever seen, and he revelled under the attention you showered him with. It was so much like old times, wasn’t it little lamb? You were once again stuck in a room of monsters and weak monkeys who could do no help, with him as your only saviour. 

The tears you shed, when he ushered you close, tasted like the sweetest sauce he could find. None of his attendants had to force you to climb onto his lap like those other sacrifices, for you did it without hesitation, as Suguru knew you would. His favourite person — the one love he knew would be with him until the end. Your head nuzzled into his neck as you whispered your fear about what was happening. Suguru could have cooed at how innocent his sweet girl has always been; you were always in denial about the darkness, even when it was who you snuggled up to. 

Like when you were children, Suguru was your saving knight who took care of all the monsters. He held your waist and took your chin so you would look into his eyes again. You still seemed so bright, even with the falling tears. “I’ll take care of it,” he promised you like he always did. So many other lambs would have run away or begged to be freed, but not you — Suguru knew that you understood that complete protection sometimes had to come from the wolves you should fear. 

You nodded with the same pout and hid your face in his hair. He felt every shuddered breath against his skin and the droplets of h your tears as they met his collarbones. It took barely any effort on his part; a simple nod to those of his congregation, and they closed every exit, and he summoned one of the monsters he would digest just for you. The slaughter was thrilling to watch; he listened to the screaming of each monkey who demanded that he help them like it was a record of Mozart. Your tears ceased, and your fist tugged on his robes as you trusted yourself in Suguru’s adept arms from the danger. 

The curses spread blood and guts across the hall, broken bones launched into the walls and cut through the doors. Suguru saw how the arachnid laughed through the chaos, but all he heard was the soft whisper of you calling him. With gentle hands stained with the blood of thousands, he held your cheeks as you looked into his eyes. He didn’t let you face the carnage, and you never tried to turn and see it. “Safe?” There was something so tantalising in having you graze of comfort in his palms. So many people warned you; they tried to keep you from his comfort, and yet you still sought him out without hesitation. 

“Safe,” he repeated, pulling the rope from your wrists without looking away from your beauty. The curse kept attacking behind you as he instructed. They even tried begging for your help as though they weren’t praying for your sacrifice just beforehand. Stupid monkeys. They were lucky it was only one of his arsenal that was taking care of their death and not Suguru himself. 

He would have torn them apart like he did the monsters you grew up with. You didn’t need to know that he handled them for you, not when you were already free and choosing to stare at him with so much love that Suguru felt his heart jump to his throat. 

With your hands free, the first action you took was holding his chin. Your entire hand shook, yet you still pulled him close and gave him the kiss he had dreamed of since he was eight. He wasn’t one for sweets, but your taste was like that of a lollipop freshly licked, and he was addicted. He felt your hand slip into his hair and the compelling way you squeezed every strand. The cackling of the arachnid across the hall continued, but from how you quietly whimpered and moved on top of him, Suguru found no need to interfere and call the curse off. 

“Geto-kun,” you whimpered into his lips like a desperate plea for more. The tattered remains of your clothing had no ability to protect your shame or hide your arousal. He felt the way you dripped slick eagerness onto the thin material of his robes, and each time you wiggled on his lap, it only made it harder to ignore. “Missed you,” to his surprise, it was your tongue that pressed to his lips and demanded to feel more. It only excited him; his little lamb felt comfortable enough to take things you craved! His cock throbbed in his robes, the tent of his growing size only caused you to move on top of him even more. 

It was a perfect catch-twenty-two situation, in Suguru’s opinion. He found your waist with his wandering hands, aiding in the way you rolled your hips against him as he slotted his tongue against yours. The kiss was messy; each time you would part for a quick breath, a string of saliva connected you, but he only continued to pull you in for more. You missed him. That nagging doubt that always ate away at his mind of you not returning his feelings ultimately died as you moaned and whispered in need of his touch. 

A glob of blood flew by your head and landed on his cheek. He expected you to jump in fear or start crying for the massacre to end. But not you. Instead, you wiped it away with your thumb and moved yourself closer. Your chest, barely covered in the dirtied clothes, pressed against him, and the swell of your ass pushed out as you arched your back for him. “Missed you too,” he moved one of his hands to where your half-torn panties rested. Your pretty eyes rolled back when he found your pulsing clit, already covered in slick. “You won’t leave me again, right?”

“N-Never,” you pushed your lips to his neck, effectively hiding your groans of delight as he circled your clit with his thumb. The answer made him purr with delight; his chest rumbled, and he thrust upward to your warmth. Suguru saw the arachnid playing in the pools of blood like a child would in the rain, tendrils pulled at the intestines of the few monkeys still somehow breathing. As they deserved. In his new world, none of those beasts could touch you again. “Will you-“

Suguru refused to even let you fully ask the ridiculous question. He silenced you by finally slipping one of his fingers inside of you, down to his final knuckle. You yelped as you greedily sucked his finger in; his thumb continued to roll around your clit so he could watch you fall apart. More of the slick ran down your thighs and to his robes. Your lips wobbled as your hips moved faster on his lap. The sound of you riding his finger tangled with the splattering of blood around, almost to where Suguru couldn’t tell the difference. 

Almost. But Suguru had long since learned everything about you and how you sounded. He taught himself to react to your noises no matter how quiet, to sense how you inwardly felt as if your body was his own. Your thighs trembled, your pretty eyes glossed over with a milky white need, and your hand tugged on his hair yet again. “Do you need to cum, my little lamb?” Mindlessly, you nodded and pulled on him again, leaning back as you claimed his finger. Suguru slid his hand to your curved back, pressing hard as he moved his fingers faster. 

One last flick of his thumb is all it took. You let out a garbled cry and bounced with a sloppy pattern of need, your cunt gushing around his finger with drowning ecstasy. Suguru pulled you close and whispered his devotion and endless praise into your ear. His lips kissed and bit the curve of your neck between every word. Your gratitude came in waves of your gummy walls tightening on him, and drooled words, such as “Thank you,” repeated over and over. 

There truly was never a need to thank him, but whenever he heard you say the words, it always reminded him of that first meeting. Monkeys never acknowledged the hardships he would shoulder just for their safety. They never cared how many sorcerers died just for their pitiful sakes. But you did. You thanked him for handling the monster under your bed and effectively changed what he knew forever. 

Always so selfless. Suguru knew that the other wolves would have gobbled you up long ago if it wasn't for him. “C’mere,” he pulled his fingers from within you and let them slide into your mouth. You took it without hesitation, and your tongue lapped at the essence of your own honeyed taste as you undid his robes. Suguru chuckled at you, allowing the material to fall and show his naked form to you. Defined, hard and strong enough to protect you — just as he worked himself to be. “Tell me, my beloved, what do you taste like?”

With a final suck, you pulled from his fingers with a beautiful pop. Suguru groaned and twitched at your pretty face, flushed with a tipsy smile. He could feel you pulsing on top of him, your cunt barely concealed in the shredded panties and his erection right against your sopping warmth. “Sour,” you made a little face, and he laughed at how cute it was and felt how you shivered to the noise. Suguru knew it would only take one movement for him to take you completely and feel the endless pleasure of you finally being his, body and soul. One movement. 

“Let me have a taste, then.” He had been mistaken. The sugar of your kiss was undoubtedly a flavour he would forever hunger for, but the sweet taste of your juice, all glossy on your lips, was far better. Like a slightly sour peach. Suguru slipped his tongue into your mouth to taste it all, and you giggled against him, feathering your fingers into the long hair he grew for you. Your hips moved slowly on him, sliding his cock between the lips of your cunt back and forth. Every vein of his cock throbbed as you teased him; it felt so comfortable and familiar like you both had been together for years. Suguru knew it was because you were made for one another. He finally sighed and pulled from your lips, his forehead resting on yours. “Perfect. You might already have been addicted.”

Your eyes sparkled, and the bright smile he adored returned to your face. It wasn’t the same as the one you offered when he would walk past your house, nor the one you gave when you reunited that day in Tokyo. It was all new, the smile of someone with a dream actualised — the smile he wore whenever you were nearby. “M-Maybe I want that.”

The arachnid finally had enough of playing with the corpses behind you, and Suguru sent the monster away, so it was only you and him. The way it should be (unless he perhaps entertained that thought of thoroughly ruining you before his congregation to make sure they show respect) and would be for the rest of your lives. The fat tip of his cock kissed your swollen clit, and you jolted with surprise. All of your reactions made Suguru’s heart leap, so that even when you were trying to tease him, he could still have you be the little lamb who weeps for the touch of a wolf. “Good girl,” he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth and helped align his cock with your hole. 

One second. Two. You showed no fear or want to escape. Suguru grinned like a fox and helped you to slowly slide down the length of his throbbing member. You mewled and pulled on his silky hair; your nails left soft, crescent moons in his skull. “‘s okay,” you slurred at him whenever he moved slower. Suguru was sure he was drowning in the intimacy of your gaze, foreheads together and your hands so sweetly holding his head close. He was always so afraid that it wouldn’t be such a way — that your union would have been a one-and-done affair of chasing highs. But, he felt your flowing emotions on his tongue like it were water. The desire, the hunger, the love. All yours. All shared with him. “Take me, please,”

The breathless whisper caught in his mind as your body took him whole. Though you shifted from the stretch, and your breathing sounded like someone already reaching that edge, you still trusted Suguru enough to have you. He knew no one earned such faith, not that any deserved it, and his hands squeezed your hips with barely veiled gluttony for you. It went all to his ego and devotion to being your perfect one. “Are you mine?” One of his hands moved and caressed your cheek, the action so tender despite the violence that loomed in the background. “Can I finally say that I have your heart like you’ve always had mine?”

Tears. Salty and wet fell down your cheeks, and he kissed them away, the taste as luscious as the rest of you. He felt you squeeze around him, walls so snug that he had to tighten his hand on your waist to prevent losing his mind. “Suguru,” just the sweet way you whispered his name between sweet sobs tempted him. It was always such a feat when you used his first name, so terrified of the monsters and how they punished you for not showing respect. The first time, you said it was between a short walk to the park with your sibling. The next day, you wore a sweater, though it was summer, “I’ve always been yours.” 

Weight left his chest, and he urgently pulled you into a fiery kiss. Teeth smacked together in the haste of you clawing for one another, and your hips slowly moved to start bouncing on him. Suguru groaned into your mouth when one of your soft hands slid to his chest and followed the ridges of the muscles he built since you first left. He used his hand to move you faster, made you ride him like you had his hand, and you lost yourself to the control. 

It nearly hurt him when you pulled away from his kiss, the words to force you back already burned on his tongue before you let out a desperate cry. The arch of your back forced your breasts to press against his face as you leaned back. Without pause, he tugged your tattered shirt down with his teeth, grazing you with the sharpness so you whimpered. His lips latched to one of your nipples, his hips thrust to meet your bounces, and Suguru knew he would finish fast. 

On his throne, the slapping of skin and skin and the wet sucking of his mouth on your breast was where Suguru finally got the little lamb he hunted since childhood. It was where, between haste breaths and desperate pulling, he confessed his love to the one who wouldn’t leave him again. It marked where you reunited and shared that you, too, felt the same as you came around his cock. It was the place where he filled you with pearly cum and made his everlasting vow to protect you until death should steal you from one another. 

© cloudychoso 2024 — do not steal, repost or translate

lemme know your thoughts xxx

[cloudychoso]

sacrifice, geto suguru ➢ geto suguru x f!reader ➢ slight yandere!geto, referenced child abuse, violence, fingering [f!rec], grinding, unprotected sex, creampie, honestly its fluff, love confessions

It didn’t take Geto Suguru long to figure out who the person he wanted to spend his life with was. His childhood neighbour, who always smiled when he would walk past the house on his way to school, was that person. He was barely eight when you first spoke, your eyes full of tears and your croaky voice muttering about a monster beneath your bed. Suguru remembers holding your hand and trying to comfort you as he promised to take care of it. And he did. Little eight-year-old Geto Suguru swallowed his first curse just so he could see his friendly neighbour smile. 

He thought it would fix everything — that the next day, when he would walk past, you would smile at him through the window instead of looking like a lost lamb. He was wrong. Though you profusely thanked him for getting rid of the monster, you never told him about the others that lurked inside. The kinds that someone likes Suguru can't take away. 

He remembers being twelve when you moved away. For someone only age eleven, your eyes held the age of eternity itself. The monsters refused to let you say goodbye to him that day. He had to instead watch you wave goodbye with your unbroken arm and the same smile he loved; not that he knew it was love yet. The sky crackled with thunder and rain when you left, Suguru knew that even nature was mourning the loss of someone like you. 

It was less than a year later when his mother showed Suguru the newspaper announcing your elder sibling's death. He couldn’t understand how his chest fluctuated from grief to relief. His mother tried to explain that it was because you weren’t the one who died; however, all she did was plant the seed of fear in Suguru’s still-growing brain. You were still with the monsters, the ones he should have taken care of those years ago when he found you crying. 

Geto Suguru understood that he had to protect you from then on. The little lamb who shivered in the rain on nights when the monsters wouldn’t let you inside. He was going to make sure nothing would hurt you again. That’s what he promised to himself that first day when he understood you were meant to be in his life. 

Five years later, at age eighteen, Suguru knew he was ready to save you from the monsters. Every moment he wasn't training alongside Gojo Satoru, he thought of the smile you gave him in what you assumed was a final goodbye. He wasn't going to let it be a final anything. You were meant to be in his life, and he was meant to devote his life to you. The ever-present casts that encased your body through childhood were his fuel to fight harder, get bigger, and grow stronger. The kind of man you would dream of rescuing you from the ivory princess tower. 

But, the little lamb he knew was already freed. Suguru felt his world bend and tilt; not even the taste of the curses he acquired was similar to the bitter understanding that he wasn't prepared. Your warm smile always shone through falling tears, which was somehow brighter than he ever remembered, and for once, your body was free of casts and bruises. The wave that followed his every step was quickly replaced with the eager one you cheered with before sprinting over to talk. 

His chest was constricted, but it wasn't the same as when he learned of your sibling’s death. It felt good. Like a warm hand was holding his heart in a hug that refused to end. Not only did you remember him, but you recognised him, even with the changing of puberty and the piercings and tattoos he decorated himself with. “Geto-kun!” It sounded even better when you were saying it with excitement instead of with the slight fear of being overheard. His heart felt like exploding. 

Suguru always knew you were meant to be with him. The bright gaze you held for the darkest world was one of the reasons that convinced him. You told him and Gojo about the past few years without ever breaking into tears, instead happily picking at the pastry that Suguru bought for you. When his hands clenched into fists as you told them about the past, instead of flinching, you just placed your hand over his and assured him that everything was different now. 

Yeah. Everything was different. You went to an actual school, you had friends, and even Suguru had a friend — one that you managed to get along with despite the flirting attempts Gojo made. Certainty affirmed in his stomach that you were meant to be. His little lamb was always destined to find the big bad wolf and curl to him for protection. And, like he promised himself all those years ago, he wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again. 

But you moved away before the year was over. Studying abroad, you cheered with him over the phone, and though he was blessed to be the one you told your plans to be, he was angry. You only just returned to his side and already you’re leaving? And… by choice? It wasn’t good. He didn’t want you to leave him. He wanted to keep you by his side while he set off to rid the world of any monster that tried to harm you. 

He started the cleanse with your personal monsters the night you flew away. The two of them cried and begged for mercy, but Suguru knew that they only laughed whenever you were stuck in their place. He ensured they felt every snap of a bone and every bruise you would hide beneath heavy clothes even through summer. When the week ended, only part of him was satiated with the blood that was spilled by his hands. 

More. There were so many that would hurt you. They were going to try and take you from him as if being by his side wasn't the safest place for you to be. Three years passed, and Suguru found himself sitting on a throne. Faceless monkeys and monsters alike bow to him as their god because that is who he made himself to be. A strong protector, your knight — a true deity. You were supposed to return from your studies abroad that day, likely with a trinket for him that was as corny as it was precious. But his revolution changed a lot about the world. 

It was all in good faith. It was all for you, after all. No one can hurt you when they're too busy worshipping you. He knew that you would get used to it and grow to love it. You had always been susceptible to compliments, even over the last three years; when Suguru would contact you, every little comment about how cute you are made you whine. Not that others were allowed to learn how you sounded like that, for your wolf was always watching and protecting you from the harm of the monsters. 

Two monkeys opened the large doors of the home, and finally, Suguru could see you face-to-face again. A gag wrapped around your mouth and a dirty blindfold over your bright eyes. Even in days old rags, tattered and ripped all over, you captivated him like no other person ever could. Track marks of tears stained the cheeks he longed to caress, and your makeup smeared from sweat and trauma. 

So beautiful. Everyone considered you a sacrifice to his cause, the lamb that gets fed to the hungry wolf, but Suguru knew that you would understand. You'd end up so thankful for his rescuing that you vow never to leave him again. Not that he would let you, of course. If you wanted to go travelling, he would have happily gone along with you if not for the flames of carnage he left curling across the entire globe.

“Praise be,” his useless followers chanted, and as usual, he felt nothing but disdain. If they didn't have money, he would have made sure they faced a similar fate to the remaining monkeys in the world. The ones that bred fear and monsters that threatened to bring you harm. All you had to do was say the word, and Suguru would slay them as though they were the dragon that guarded your tower. “Praise be!”

It was almost amusing how they thought you were another sacrificial tool he'd use to perfect himself. Even if the test of faith wasn't rigged, they were not anywhere near strong enough to be worthy of standing at his side. Useless monkeys sold to him by the monsters to try and secure safety… how pathetic. Only one sacrifice would ever be able to pass: his little lamb, the one that smiled through pouring rain as monsters sunk their claws into your skin. 

True strength. Part of Suguru would always be envious that he can not possess it, like you. He was confident you had no idea just how powerful and rare you were in the dark, dark world he had only known. But the world was finally healing — an act to prove his devotion to you. Suguru smiled behind the palm of his hand when you were led up the stairs to his platform. With such heavy breathing, you must have managed to sense that your wolf was the one you were presented to. 

With a single nod, the blindfold that obscured the bright eyes he loved to fall into was removed. You squint from the light of the fireplace and candles. It was hard for him to resist chuckling when you tried to move your wrists despite the itchy rope they were entwined with. He offered you a wave when those bright eyes he adored finally found him on the throne. Your lips formed the cutest pout Suguru had ever seen, and he revelled under the attention you showered him with. It was so much like old times, wasn’t it little lamb? You were once again stuck in a room of monsters and weak monkeys who could do no help, with him as your only saviour. 

The tears you shed, when he ushered you close, tasted like the sweetest sauce he could find. None of his attendants had to force you to climb onto his lap like those other sacrifices, for you did it without hesitation, as Suguru knew you would. His favourite person — the one love he knew would be with him until the end. Your head nuzzled into his neck as you whispered your fear about what was happening. Suguru could have cooed at how innocent his sweet girl has always been; you were always in denial about the darkness, even when it was who you snuggled up to. 

Like when you were children, Suguru was your saving knight who took care of all the monsters. He held your waist and took your chin so you would look into his eyes again. You still seemed so bright, even with the falling tears. “I’ll take care of it,” he promised you like he always did. So many other lambs would have run away or begged to be freed, but not you — Suguru knew that you understood that complete protection sometimes had to come from the wolves you should fear. 

You nodded with the same pout and hid your face in his hair. He felt every shuddered breath against his skin and the droplets of h your tears as they met his collarbones. It took barely any effort on his part; a simple nod to those of his congregation, and they closed every exit, and he summoned one of the monsters he would digest just for you. The slaughter was thrilling to watch; he listened to the screaming of each monkey who demanded that he help them like it was a record of Mozart. Your tears ceased, and your fist tugged on his robes as you trusted yourself in Suguru’s adept arms from the danger. 

The curses spread blood and guts across the hall, broken bones launched into the walls and cut through the doors. Suguru saw how the arachnid laughed through the chaos, but all he heard was the soft whisper of you calling him. With gentle hands stained with the blood of thousands, he held your cheeks as you looked into his eyes. He didn’t let you face the carnage, and you never tried to turn and see it. “Safe?” There was something so tantalising in having you graze of comfort in his palms. So many people warned you; they tried to keep you from his comfort, and yet you still sought him out without hesitation. 

“Safe,” he repeated, pulling the rope from your wrists without looking away from your beauty. The curse kept attacking behind you as he instructed. They even tried begging for your help as though they weren’t praying for your sacrifice just beforehand. Stupid monkeys. They were lucky it was only one of his arsenal that was taking care of their death and not Suguru himself. 

He would have torn them apart like he did the monsters you grew up with. You didn’t need to know that he handled them for you, not when you were already free and choosing to stare at him with so much love that Suguru felt his heart jump to his throat. 

With your hands free, the first action you took was holding his chin. Your entire hand shook, yet you still pulled him close and gave him the kiss he had dreamed of since he was eight. He wasn’t one for sweets, but your taste was like that of a lollipop freshly licked, and he was addicted. He felt your hand slip into his hair and the compelling way you squeezed every strand. The cackling of the arachnid across the hall continued, but from how you quietly whimpered and moved on top of him, Suguru found no need to interfere and call the curse off. 

“Geto-kun,” you whimpered into his lips like a desperate plea for more. The tattered remains of your clothing had no ability to protect your shame or hide your arousal. He felt the way you dripped slick eagerness onto the thin material of his robes, and each time you wiggled on his lap, it only made it harder to ignore. “Missed you,” to his surprise, it was your tongue that pressed to his lips and demanded to feel more. It only excited him; his little lamb felt comfortable enough to take things you craved! His cock throbbed in his robes, the tent of his growing size only caused you to move on top of him even more. 

It was a perfect catch-twenty-two situation, in Suguru’s opinion. He found your waist with his wandering hands, aiding in the way you rolled your hips against him as he slotted his tongue against yours. The kiss was messy; each time you would part for a quick breath, a string of saliva connected you, but he only continued to pull you in for more. You missed him. That nagging doubt that always ate away at his mind of you not returning his feelings ultimately died as you moaned and whispered in need of his touch. 

A glob of blood flew by your head and landed on his cheek. He expected you to jump in fear or start crying for the massacre to end. But not you. Instead, you wiped it away with your thumb and moved yourself closer. Your chest, barely covered in the dirtied clothes, pressed against him, and the swell of your ass pushed out as you arched your back for him. “Missed you too,” he moved one of his hands to where your half-torn panties rested. Your pretty eyes rolled back when he found your pulsing clit, already covered in slick. “You won’t leave me again, right?”

“N-Never,” you pushed your lips to his neck, effectively hiding your groans of delight as he circled your clit with his thumb. The answer made him purr with delight; his chest rumbled, and he thrust upward to your warmth. Suguru saw the arachnid playing in the pools of blood like a child would in the rain, tendrils pulled at the intestines of the few monkeys still somehow breathing. As they deserved. In his new world, none of those beasts could touch you again. “Will you-“

Suguru refused to even let you fully ask the ridiculous question. He silenced you by finally slipping one of his fingers inside of you, down to his final knuckle. You yelped as you greedily sucked his finger in; his thumb continued to roll around your clit so he could watch you fall apart. More of the slick ran down your thighs and to his robes. Your lips wobbled as your hips moved faster on his lap. The sound of you riding his finger tangled with the splattering of blood around, almost to where Suguru couldn’t tell the difference. 

Almost. But Suguru had long since learned everything about you and how you sounded. He taught himself to react to your noises no matter how quiet, to sense how you inwardly felt as if your body was his own. Your thighs trembled, your pretty eyes glossed over with a milky white need, and your hand tugged on his hair yet again. “Do you need to cum, my little lamb?” Mindlessly, you nodded and pulled on him again, leaning back as you claimed his finger. Suguru slid his hand to your curved back, pressing hard as he moved his fingers faster. 

One last flick of his thumb is all it took. You let out a garbled cry and bounced with a sloppy pattern of need, your cunt gushing around his finger with drowning ecstasy. Suguru pulled you close and whispered his devotion and endless praise into your ear. His lips kissed and bit the curve of your neck between every word. Your gratitude came in waves of your gummy walls tightening on him, and drooled words, such as “Thank you,” repeated over and over. 

There truly was never a need to thank him, but whenever he heard you say the words, it always reminded him of that first meeting. Monkeys never acknowledged the hardships he would shoulder just for their safety. They never cared how many sorcerers died just for their pitiful sakes. But you did. You thanked him for handling the monster under your bed and effectively changed what he knew forever. 

Always so selfless. Suguru knew that the other wolves would have gobbled you up long ago if it wasn't for him. “C’mere,” he pulled his fingers from within you and let them slide into your mouth. You took it without hesitation, and your tongue lapped at the essence of your own honeyed taste as you undid his robes. Suguru chuckled at you, allowing the material to fall and show his naked form to you. Defined, hard and strong enough to protect you — just as he worked himself to be. “Tell me, my beloved, what do you taste like?”

With a final suck, you pulled from his fingers with a beautiful pop. Suguru groaned and twitched at your pretty face, flushed with a tipsy smile. He could feel you pulsing on top of him, your cunt barely concealed in the shredded panties and his erection right against your sopping warmth. “Sour,” you made a little face, and he laughed at how cute it was and felt how you shivered to the noise. Suguru knew it would only take one movement for him to take you completely and feel the endless pleasure of you finally being his, body and soul. One movement. 

“Let me have a taste, then.” He had been mistaken. The sugar of your kiss was undoubtedly a flavour he would forever hunger for, but the sweet taste of your juice, all glossy on your lips, was far better. Like a slightly sour peach. Suguru slipped his tongue into your mouth to taste it all, and you giggled against him, feathering your fingers into the long hair he grew for you. Your hips moved slowly on him, sliding his cock between the lips of your cunt back and forth. Every vein of his cock throbbed as you teased him; it felt so comfortable and familiar like you both had been together for years. Suguru knew it was because you were made for one another. He finally sighed and pulled from your lips, his forehead resting on yours. “Perfect. You might already have been addicted.”

Your eyes sparkled, and the bright smile he adored returned to your face. It wasn’t the same as the one you offered when he would walk past your house, nor the one you gave when you reunited that day in Tokyo. It was all new, the smile of someone with a dream actualised — the smile he wore whenever you were nearby. “M-Maybe I want that.”

The arachnid finally had enough of playing with the corpses behind you, and Suguru sent the monster away, so it was only you and him. The way it should be (unless he perhaps entertained that thought of thoroughly ruining you before his congregation to make sure they show respect) and would be for the rest of your lives. The fat tip of his cock kissed your swollen clit, and you jolted with surprise. All of your reactions made Suguru’s heart leap, so that even when you were trying to tease him, he could still have you be the little lamb who weeps for the touch of a wolf. “Good girl,” he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth and helped align his cock with your hole. 

One second. Two. You showed no fear or want to escape. Suguru grinned like a fox and helped you to slowly slide down the length of his throbbing member. You mewled and pulled on his silky hair; your nails left soft, crescent moons in his skull. “‘s okay,” you slurred at him whenever he moved slower. Suguru was sure he was drowning in the intimacy of your gaze, foreheads together and your hands so sweetly holding his head close. He was always so afraid that it wouldn’t be such a way — that your union would have been a one-and-done affair of chasing highs. But, he felt your flowing emotions on his tongue like it were water. The desire, the hunger, the love. All yours. All shared with him. “Take me, please,”

The breathless whisper caught in his mind as your body took him whole. Though you shifted from the stretch, and your breathing sounded like someone already reaching that edge, you still trusted Suguru enough to have you. He knew no one earned such faith, not that any deserved it, and his hands squeezed your hips with barely veiled gluttony for you. It went all to his ego and devotion to being your perfect one. “Are you mine?” One of his hands moved and caressed your cheek, the action so tender despite the violence that loomed in the background. “Can I finally say that I have your heart like you’ve always had mine?”

Tears. Salty and wet fell down your cheeks, and he kissed them away, the taste as luscious as the rest of you. He felt you squeeze around him, walls so snug that he had to tighten his hand on your waist to prevent losing his mind. “Suguru,” just the sweet way you whispered his name between sweet sobs tempted him. It was always such a feat when you used his first name, so terrified of the monsters and how they punished you for not showing respect. The first time, you said it was between a short walk to the park with your sibling. The next day, you wore a sweater, though it was summer, “I’ve always been yours.” 

Weight left his chest, and he urgently pulled you into a fiery kiss. Teeth smacked together in the haste of you clawing for one another, and your hips slowly moved to start bouncing on him. Suguru groaned into your mouth when one of your soft hands slid to his chest and followed the ridges of the muscles he built since you first left. He used his hand to move you faster, made you ride him like you had his hand, and you lost yourself to the control. 

It nearly hurt him when you pulled away from his kiss, the words to force you back already burned on his tongue before you let out a desperate cry. The arch of your back forced your breasts to press against his face as you leaned back. Without pause, he tugged your tattered shirt down with his teeth, grazing you with the sharpness so you whimpered. His lips latched to one of your nipples, his hips thrust to meet your bounces, and Suguru knew he would finish fast. 

On his throne, the slapping of skin and skin and the wet sucking of his mouth on your breast was where Suguru finally got the little lamb he hunted since childhood. It was where, between haste breaths and desperate pulling, he confessed his love to the one who wouldn’t leave him again. It marked where you reunited and shared that you, too, felt the same as you came around his cock. It was the place where he filled you with pearly cum and made his everlasting vow to protect you until death should steal you from one another. 

© cloudychoso 2024 — do not steal, repost or translate

lemme know your thoughts xxx

[cloudychoso]

CLIMB THE MINOTAUR

you’re excited to be chosen as a sacrifice and finally be able to get a proper look at the so-called minotaur. you’re thoroughly disappointed to find out it’s just some tall tattoed guy with four arms.

pairing: trueform sukuna x sacrifice f! reader contents: smut, monsterfucking, sukuna has two dicks, virginity loss (sukuna), cervix-fucking, mentions of cannibalism and killing, greek gods and myths, degradation, name-calling (brat, woman, whore) alba’s note: this came to me in a vision and i was compelled to write it. and then it turned way longer than i anticipated. hee hee. wordcount: 4.8k

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

You’re known to be peculiar. A little weird.

Growing up in Crete, you’ve always heard the stories of the Minotaur. A giant beast that lives in a labyrinth underneath the palace where King Minos lives.

No one really knows how the beast came to live, but it’s said that one day a big white bull showed up on the beach and nine months later Queen Pasiphae birthed the minotaur.

It’s not something that most dare to say out loud, but when it’s dark out and the bards are drunk enough the real songs come out at the crowded taverns.

Pasiphae, the queen who fucked the bull.

Every year a week-long festival is held where young women and men are sacrificed to the bull. It’s supposed to keep the monster at bay. It has a taste for human flesh. Apparently, the first thing it did when it was cut out of its mother’s womb, was to eat the nurse’s hand.

You know you should be filled with dread that a flesh-eating monster lives just underneath the palace. What’s stopping it from leaving its maze and coming for you?

But you just feel intrigued.

You know that it’s not normal. Other girls your age dream of heroes who slay dragons and save princesses. Yet your dreams are filled with a giant monster with a man’s body and a bull’s head, and you haven’t quite figured out if they’re nightmares or just that; dreams.

When you’re chosen to be sacrificed you can’t tell if the emotions toiling inside you are dread or excitement. Maybe it’s a mix of both?

You’re brought to the palace where you’re put in a dress, much prettier than anything you’ve ever owned. You know everyone expects you to scream and cry. That’s what all the other ones have done.

But you just stay quiet.

It only increases the sneers as you’re paraded around. The sacrificial maiden. Thank her for her humble sacrifice to save us from the hunger of the minotaur.

And when the day comes you’re led down a dark passage in the castle. Further and further and further down until the air turns chilly and the only light is from the torches the soldiers escorting you carry.

The entrance to the maze is surprisingly just a small door. Made of metal, there are several locks on the outside. The guard unlocks them one by one.

“Are you ready?”

It’s the first time any of them have spoken to you. You look at the guard beside you. He smiles and unlocks the chains around your wrist. You’re surprised they even bothered to put them on. You haven’t shown a sign of wanting to escape the entire time.

“I guess,” you reply, watching as the guard in front of you unlocks the last lock. You massage your sore wrists and wince.

“Why are you removing these? Wouldn’t it be easier to let them stay on,” you ask. The guard smiles again. This time it’s more sinister.

“It likes the chase,” he replies. You raise a brow. You wonder how he knows that. No one on the outside of the maze has ever seen the minotaur besides its mother and the handless maid. No one on the inside of the maze has ever lived to tell anyone about their experience.

The guard in front of you scoffs.

“Alright, get in there. I want to go home. Wife’s making chicken stew.” he says. You walk towards the door. The guard opens it. The one behind you swiftly pushes you in.

They go to close the door, but you place yourself between the the small gap before he can. The guards frown.

“Don’t make me push you again,” one of them says.

“At least give me a torch. Can you see how dark it is down here?” you ask. The guards share a look.

“You’re awfully calm for a little girl,”

“I’m not a little girl,” you huff. The guard shrugs. Then he hands you one of their torches.

“Sure. It’ll just make it easier for it to find you,” he says. You move back so they can close the door properly.

It will also make it easier for me to see him.

The door is closed and you look out towards the maze. Apart from the little light your torch provides, it’s pitch black. All you can see is stonewalls. You give the door behind you one last look.

“Well, I guess there’s only one way to go,” you mutter, as you walk further into the maze. You have no idea if you’ve walked for hours or minutes. Everywhere is the same, stone, stone, stone. You take turn after turn, keeping your hand against the wall on your right side.

You listen as closely as you can, after hooves on the floor or grunts coming, but the only thing you can hear is your heartbeat and the slow crackle of the torch on your left.

Annoyed, you sigh. “Some chase,” you huff as you look around. It’s cold and wet by now, and your dress does nothing to shield you from the chilly air.

That’s when you see it; red eyes staring at you in the darkness. He’s too far away for your torch to illuminate him, but you can see enough, that he’s tall and big. Your breath hitches, but you can hardly react before he moves towards you. You prepare yourself for incoming death, yet you’re excited to finally see the great minotaur. You wonder how big his horns are if they curl–

Wait, what?

You furrow your brows. The shadow moving towards you doesn’t have horns. Instead, it’s a giant man with four arms. He’s strong, with big muscles and scars all over his body, along with black tattoos on his chest and arms and he’s only wearing a pair of ragged pants. Four pairs of ruby eyes glare at you as he opens his mouth, revealing a pair of sharp fangs, ready to rip open your throat.

“You’re not a bull,”

The monster, or rather, man halts. He looks confused, as though he’s not entirely sure what to do.

“You’re just some guy!” you continue, crossing your arms over your chest. “Where’s your bull's head!”

The monster blinks. His arms which were previously reaching out for you, ready to grab you, are now awkwardly hanging down his sides.

“What?” His voice is coarse, as though he hasn’t used it for a long time. “You’re supposed to have horns! A bull's head!” you accuse.

“Who told you that?” he asks, lips turning downward in a growl.

“Everyone!”

“Stupid rumours,”

You stand there for a while, staring at each other. The guy awkwardly rubs his neck with his top left arm. He clearly doesn’t know what to do. Maybe he’s not used to his victims blaming him for not being scary enough. Or animal enough? What exactly you were expecting, he isn’t sure. All he knows is that you’re thoroughly disappointed.

You sigh and walk up to him. You examine his arms, before you look up at his face. He glares at you. You raise your brows.

The guy’s hot. You can’t deny that.

He shakes his head, before turning around and walking away. You watch him go for a bit before you decide to follow him.

“Aren’t you going to eat me or something?” you ask.

“Lost my appetite,” he replies, not looking back towards you. You continue to follow him, your eyes trailing the black tattoos on his back.

“Where are we going?” you ask. The man stops, causing you to collide with his back.

“I’m going home. You’re not going anywhere,” he states, looking down at you over his shoulder. You step back, looking around the passage you’re in. Stones and stones are all you see.

You decide you are going with the man whether he likes it or not. You’d rather do that than spend the night alone in the maze.

He doesn't say anything as you walk to the place he calls home. You’re delighted when you enter a relatively small chamber. There’s not much more than a bed, a kitchen, a dining table and several books lying around. The latter surprises you, but then again, it’s probably kept him from going completely insane. You wonder who taught him how to read. It is not something just anyone can do.

On the table, there’s a sort of stew. It’s still hot, it can hardly have been there for long. He grabs himself a bowl, before handing one to you. You tentatively grab it, suspiciously eyeing the meat.

He rolls his eyes. “Relax. It's rabbit,” he replies, handing you a spoon. You sit down, slightly wide-eyed.

“There are rabbits down here?” you ask and the man nods.

“Animals venture down here all the time. You don’t actually think I can survive from a couple of sacrifices once a year, do you?” he asks.

You stare at the stew. In all honesty, you’d never really given it that much thought. In hindsight, it feels a little stupid. Like you’ve been caught right in your very own net of assumptions.

“What’s your name?” you slowly ask. He stops eating, looking at you. It’s like he considers what to say for a while, before coming to a conclusion.

“Sukuna,” he replies. You hum.

“Sukuna,” you repeat, and Sukuna grunts, eating a spoonful of his stew. You give him your name, but he hardly seems to register it as he shrugs.

You sit like that in silence, both just eating the stew. Once you’re done Sukuna stands up, stretching his arms. You watch with fascination.

“I’m going to bed. It’s late,” he grumbles, before shrugging off his pants.

You gape, staring. Sukuna stands before you, completely naked. Your eyes trail his body, watching his tattoos, leading down, down, down.

No way.

The fucker has two cocks. You swallow, watching the gigantic things between his legs. They’re almost pretty. Wait, are you turned on right now?

“Do you always sleep naked?” you ask, voice coming out smaller than you’d like.

Sukuna grunts. You take that as a yes. He walks past you, lying down on his bed and turning his back to you. You huff.

Is he seriously going to bed right now?

Tentatively, you look around the small chamber. Kitchen, table, bed, books. There’s hardly anything else.

The bed is big enough for two.

You’re not entirely sure what comes over you. Maybe it’s the dull throbbing in your core or the warm stew clouding your mind, but you take off your dress and undergarments and lay down on the bed, slipping under the covers.

Unable to look at Sukuna’s broad back any longer, you turn around, laying on your side. You feel him turning around as well, feeling his breathing against your neck.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to sleep,”

“In my bed?” You can’t entirely tell if Sukuna’s angry or just exasperated. Maybe it’s a mix of both.

“Do you see any other beds here?”

Sukuna scoffs, but he doesn’t make a move to push you out. You take that as a victory, settling into the bed. Sukuna’s body radiates with heat behind you, almost like a furnace.

You lay like that for a while, wondering how this has all happened. Why hasn’t Sukuna hurt you yet?

“Do you know what I think?” you say after a little thinking.

“No,”

“I think you’re lonely. I think you want someone to care for you,” you say.

“That’s ridiculous,” Sukuna replies. He doesn’t sound at all convinced.

But there has to be a reason as to why he hasn’t killed you yet, right? Don’t monsters get lonely too?

“Is it really? Or is it just human?” you ask.

“I’m not human,”

“Some part of you must be,” you hum. You lay in silence for a while. You inch closer to Sukuna.

“Have you ever been with a girl, Sukuna?” you ask. You must have lost your mind at this point. You can feel his length against your ass and the mere size of the thing makes you drool. He grunts. You move around under the sheets, pretending to get comfortable, but making sure to rub your ass against his cock, feeling it twitch to life. A giant hand finds your hip.

“Stop that,” Sukuna says. He sounds almost... flustered? You sigh. “I’m just getting comfortable.”

“I’ll throw you on the floor,”

“So mean, big guy,”

It’s too late. His cocks are already awake. You can feel them both coming alive against you, slowly growing.

Sukuna takes a shaky breath. You wiggle some more. The hand on your hip doesn’t stop you.

“You’ve never wanted to try? It must be so lonely down here for you,” you say. His hand digs into your skin. You make circular motions. His breaths grow more laboured.

“All alone, with no one to share these cold nights with,” your tone is teasing. You turn around so you’re facing him. Lidded eyes stare back at you.

“Don’t you wanna know what it’s like?”

Sukuna is no idiot. He knows what you mean. He can feel the heat radiating from your core, every instinct in him telling him to just get on top of you and fuck you till his balls are empty.

You infuriate him. Why aren’t you afraid of him? Why aren’t you screaming or crying for help? Running away? Why is your bare body pressed up against him and why is his groin reacting this way? Why do you smell so good?

Why are you so fucking weird?

The only thing that holds him back is his curiosity. How far will you go to get what you want? How weird are you really?

You want it bad. Or you’re just really weird. A hand comes down to stroke his top cock in languid motions. “Come on, Kuna,” you sigh, free hand snaking up around his neck. Your lips ghost his. The sudden use of a nickname makes Sukuna shudder slightly.

“Fuck me, please,” you whisper. Sukuna closes his eyes. You remove your hand from his cock, to grab one of his, bringing it to your sopping core.

“Feel how wet it is,” you whisper. You lashes fan his face as you kiss the corner of his lips. “It’s all for you,”

Sukuna’s brows furrow as you run his fingers through your folds. You are truly dripping. Almost have been since you saw those two cocks. Your mouth salivates at the thought of being fucked silly on them.

Sukuna closes his eyes. You’re about to give up when you feel his thumb rub your clit. You gasp and Sukuna’s eyes shoot open.

“Are you really that desperate?” he asks, almost angrily, as he quickly shifts to be on top of you. One pair of hands on either side of your face, caging you in as his other is on your hip.

His last hand is still cupping your cunt, as he tsks and shakes his head.

“Can’t believe they sent me a whore,” he mutters. With one hand still beside your face, two others grab the back of your thighs and pull them to your chest. You gasp, now completely exposed to him and Sukuna grins.

“I’m not a whore,” you reply, pouting and Sukuna grins, experimentally rubbing his fingers along your folds. You whine as he sticks a finger inside your cunt, curling his digit. Immediately, his finger stretches you out, and Sukuna hums.

He sticks another in, and another, till you feel stuffed. Your hands roam his chest before the hand beside your head grips your wrists and pulls them above your head. You’re utterly helpless; thighs and hands pinned down.

The sloppy sound of your cunt fills the cave as he continues to stretch you open. You whine and moan, attempting to buck your hips up into his chest.

“That feels good, huh? You like being stuffed like this?” Sukuna asks, and you’re not even sure if it’s rhetorical or not. He explores your body with a weird sort of interest that makes your stomach turn with desire. It’s like you're nothing but a toy to him.

“Answer me,”

“Yes,” you whine, throwing your head around. “Feels good,”

Sukuna’s grin widens. Your walls clench down on him as he curls his fingers into your G-spot. A whine is wretched from your throat and Sukuna halts his actions. You gasp for air before he presses again and you moan loudly.

“Fuck,” you say. The corner of Sukuna’s lips turns upward. His cocks are aching between his legs. Dripping precum all over his sheets and your messy cunt. He doesn’t know why his body reacts this way, but it’s not long before he can’t wait anymore, removing his digits and instead aligning his lower cock with your entrance.

He pushes in and you scrunch your eyes shut, pleasure shooting through your body. It’s like you’re on fire. Inch by inch, Sukuna bullies his thick cock into your tight little cunt. You gasp and writhe, but Sukuna’s got you exactly where he’d like.

“Gods,” Sukuna mumbles. He watches where his thick cock spreads you open, your lips obscenely stretched to accommodate his hefty size. It’s so tight and warm and wet, slick dripping out of you and down your ass.

He looks up at your face. Your eyes are still closed, your mouth slightly agape, your face flushed and sweaty. You’re so full you can hardly think.

“Should’ve gone out much sooner.” Sukuna mumbles. With one pair of hands digging into your thighs, folding you in half, another hand finds your chin, angling your face down to where your bodies are connected. His other cock lies on top of your stomach, reaching all the way to your belly button.

“Look at yourself. Do you like being split open by a monster?” he asks and you whine, opening your eyes and watching him enter you. You gasp when you see he’s not even fully in, yet you feel so stuffed already.

“You’re not a m– monster,” you gasp. Your thighs begin to shake at the stretch of it all, but Sukuna pays it no mind. He replies with a grunt, before slamming his hips into yours, fully seathing himself inside. The whine that leaves you is utterly sinful.

Sukuna frowns, feeling the pressure build in his abdomen. You’re so tight. His cock hardly fits inside, and yet you’re still clamping down on him, causing his cock to throb. He’s unable to resist your inviting heat, causing his hips to stutter against yours a couple of times before he comes deep inside you. His cock throbs as he paints your insides white, filling you to the brim. It’s so much that it spills out of your abused little hole.

His brows furrow together as he delivers a few pitiful thrusts. You gasp at the feeling, your hips bucking uselessly.

“Kuna, did you just–“

Before you can finish your sentence, Sukuna pulls out and flips you around, two hands holding your hips in place, as a third one pushes your head into the sheets underneath you. He uses the fourth hand to position himself, before he slams into you with his other cock, immediately fucking his cum deeper into you.

You moan helplessly, as Sukuna fucks you from behind, his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust, making you jolt in pain and pleasure. You grip the sheets underneath you, hot tears rolling down your cheeks, as you’re reduced to a babbling, pleading mess.

It’s all so much; his grip on you is almost bruising, his balls slap against your clit, his hand keeping your head down as another gropes greedy handfuls of your ass.

“Oh my g– gods!” you cry out, and Sukuna only fucks you faster, meaner. The loud squelching of your dripping cunt fills the room, along with Sukuna’s breathy moans and your whines.

“You say you’re not a whore, but you sure take cock like one, huh, brat?” Sukuna says and you cry out.

“So good, Kuna, you’re so good to me,” you gasp and Sukuna rolls his eyes. His other cock begins to feel lonely, he notes. He eyes your sloppy cunt, wondering if she could swallow a second cock as well as the first one. The stretch would be obscene, but he’s beginning to get the vibe that you want him to destroy you. Which is why he pulls out till just his tip is inside; rewarding you with a slap on the ass as you whine in protest; before slowly pushing inside with both cocks.

A string of curses leave you. You look back at him with tears in your eyes, but Sukuna merely smiles back, as he continues to stretch your walls to the max.

“Don’t look at me like that, woman. I can tell you live for this,” he replies, and you sob, because fuck yes you do. He fucks you in shallow thrusts, hissing at how tight you are.

He bullies both his cocks into you till you can barely think. Body pressed into the sheets below you, your hands reach behind to try to push him away, your body jolting forward. Sukuna grunts, before he leans in, wrapping his lower arms around your waist. Another one wraps around your throat as he gropes your tit with the last one. You can feel his hot breath against your neck, teeth grazing your skin as your bodies are completely flush against each other.

It’s completely instinctual as he makes you take everything he has to give. He fucks you like a starved man, hips rutting against yours as his cocks explore every inch of your insides, molding you, ruining you forever. You whimper, eyes rolling back as pain and pleasure shoot through you.

“I’m g– gonna come,” you gasp and Sukuna hums, feeling your walls flutter around him. It’s not long before ecstasy takes over your body as you reach your high, cunt gushing around Sukuna’s two cocks. The way you grow so tight, walls gripping him like a vice, makes Sukuna come soon after you, both cocks painting your walls white. It’s so much that your stomach feels bloated, cum dripping out of you and onto the sheets beneath you in a puddle. You whine, closing your eyes and melting into the sheets as Sukuna retreats from your exhausted body.

“Thank you,” you murmur and Sukuna huffs, shaking his head at your weakened state. He grabs a cloth and begins to clean you before he hears your small snores.

“There’s no way,” he mutters, giving your ass a smack, but you barely move as your snores grow louder. A small grin tugs on Sukuna’s lips.

“Brat.”

You wake the next morning, every muscle in your body sore. Despite that, you notice that you are clean and that the sheets and furs around you have been changed. You look around the room for Sukuna, but he is nowhere to be seen.

Huffing, you attempt to get up, only to wince as you feel how sore your legs and back are. You explore your skin, to find bruises and nail marks where he ravaged you last night. You poke at one, wincing at the pain.

“You’re awake,”

You look up, to see Sukuna appearing through the door. You blink.

“How long did I sleep?”

Sukuna shrugs.

“A long time,”

You pout. Sukuna’s eyes trail down your body, smiling at the marks littering your thighs and neck.

“Did you fuck a bull last night or something?” he asks. You furrow your brows and grab a pillow to throw at him. Sukuna snickers, dodging the pillow.

“Get up,” he says.

“No,” you whine, burying your face in your other pillow. Sukuna doesn’t say anything, but you hear footsteps. You sink further into the bed, hoping that he’ll go away, but you squeal when you feel four hands grab you. Sukuna puts you over his shoulder, one arm securely wrapped around you. You fight in his grasp, kicking your legs and hitting his back.

“Let me down this instance!”

“So demanding,”

He doesn’t seem to care about your objections as he gives your ass a firm slap before walking out of the little cave he calls home.

He walks for a little while, as you huff and puff on his shoulder before you finally reach your destination.

It’s another small cave, but this one has a lake. The water is crystal clear, and you can see the bottom beneath it. It is shallow, hardly going above your waist. Above it, a small waterfall cascades down and the lake connects to a small river. You gasp.

“This is beautiful,”

Sukuna shrugs, before getting in the water. You squeal at the temperature, writhing in Sukuna’s arms, but he keeps you steady as he sits down in the water.

“Stay still, brat, it will soothe your body,” he replies as he submerges both of you. He isn’t lying. The water is cold, but it relieves your sore body, making you feel much better.

He lets you go, and you sit down in the icy water. Sukuna sits beside you. “What happened to the others?” you ask, curiously.

“Who?” Sukuna asks.

“The other sacrifices,” you inquire. Sukuna raises a brow. You consider you might not want to know the answer, but it’s too late now.

“I ate them,” he replies. You gape. Sukuna grins.

He hasn’t actually eaten any. Well, he has eaten some. But most he just killed. But he likes the look on your face.

“Wait, really?”

“Yes,”

“Why?”

“Well, I couldn’t just let them go,” Sukuna shrugs as if it’s the most sensible thing in the world. You wonder if being alone for so long has made him unable to feel real empathy. If the loneliness has just made him a shell of a person.

“There are exits here?” you ask. Let them go. He makes it sound so simple, but the only entrance to the labyrinth is supposed to be the one you came through.

“Yes, several,” Sukuna says. You think your jaw somehow drops lower than it already was. Sukuna isn’t a captive? Does he enjoy being here? You suppose that explains the rabbit stew, although you were too stunned at the moment to investigate when he served it to you.

“The architect who built this labyrinth was a captive himself. He swore to never subject anyone to that same fate.” Sukuna explains when he sees your puzzled expression. Almost as if you’ve opened a fountain, words spill from Sukuna’s lips. He doesn’t think he’s ever spoken this much before.

“He came to visit me quite often. Taught me everything I know,”

You nod. That would explain the reading, the cooking, the having somewhat manners besides undressing in front of you and threatening to throw you off the bed.

“Then he stopped coming one day,” Sukuna says. “I was always an unwanted child.”

The last comes almost as an afterthought, and you wonder if he’s saying it more to himself than to you. How old was he before he was cast into the labyrinth? You can imagine Queen Pasiphae’s scowl on his face, King Minos' bitter words.

That’s not my son.

“He’s dead,” you say. Sukuna’s brows furrow.

“What?”

Everyone in Crete knows the story of Daedalus. Architect and inventor, he was the pride of King Minos, building beautiful ships, looms and other inventions. He’d tried to escape with his son, by building each of them a pair of wax wings.

If only Icarus hadn’t flown too close to the sun.

"It’s Daedalus, right? After his son died, the grief killed him,”

Sukuna nods. There’s a whirlwind in his eyes, a thousand thoughts rolling over his mind. “I figured,”

You sit in silence for a while. Then you move over to straddle Sukuna. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Your naked bodies cling together, as a pair of arms tentatively wrap around you.

“What are you doing?” he asks and you giggle. Sukuna feels the vibrations run through his body. “I’m hugging you,” you reply. Sukuna blinks. Slowly he pulls you closer, four arms now wrapped around you. It feels nice, safer than you’ve ever been. You know you should feel disgusted by the man hugging you, but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to it. You just feel warm. And sore.

You feel yourself being lifted, as Sukuna rubs his cock against your entrance. “Kuna,” you gasp, three arms still wrapped around you. You look up at him, and Sukuna swears you have stars in your eyes. Slowly, he sinks you down on his cock, revelling in the feeling of how warm you are.

Fuck. It’s like he’s getting addicted to your soft body. He never wants to go without you again.

“You must be a witch,” he groans, beginning to bounce you up and down like you’re his little fucktoy. The fullness makes you dizzy, and you lean into his chest, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. The squelching water around you fills the cave along with your little whimpers.

“What the fuck have you done to me, woman?”

i could fix him. (with my pussy)☝🏼😤

i know this isn’t even freaky for tumblr but it’s the first time i’ve posted something like this, so be nice to me. 🥹

also i proof read like three times and i don’t want to anymore so here you go, sorry for any mistakes, i love you.

thank you for reading!

masterlist | divider by plutism

[cloudychoso]

alba.

FUCK YOU I HATE YOU BUT I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH I WANT TO CRY AND SCREAM AND CDBGCVDGSHVCHGDSVACGSVCDHVC WHY DID YOU CURSE ME WITH THIS PAIN???????? DO YOU WANT ME TO DIE????? IM GOING TO DIE FUCK YOU

anyways

the writing is so fucking edible i just want to lick it up because this is a full course fine dining FEAST and I thank you oh so humble queen alba

im totally not upset or anything that this broke me hahahahahhahahahahahhahahahahah I'm fine!

𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇 | masterlist

"There is no law that the gods must be fair, Achilles. Perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone?" —Chiron, TSOA by Madeline Miller

pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader x Suguru Geto

After your city falls, you become a war price to the swift-footed Satoru Gojo, the strongest of the Greeks. You now have to adjust to your new position in a foreign camp, no longer as a princess of Lyrnessus, but as a symbol of Satoru Gojo's honour.

warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, heavy on the angst, mentions of war, blood, killing and fighting, major character death, mentions of pregnancy

tags: Satoru as Achilles, Suguru as Patroclus, reader as Briseis, plot with porn, threesome, greek gods and myths, f!reader, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n

wc: 19k

status: completed

alba's note: this is a very loose retelling of the iliad! i took a bunch of liberties, hee hee, but i've always thought that satoru and suguru fit very well into the achilles/patroclus narrative, so i wanted to bring that to life!

this fic is inspired by madeline miller’s the song of achilles and pat barker’s the silence of the girls. both novels are amazing, and i highly recommend them! <3

read on ao3

MINORS, AGELESS AND BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT!

Chapter One — A New Existence

Chapter Two — Punishment of The Gods

Chapter Three — Satoru's Wrath

Epilogue

completed on 9 august 2024 | divider by cafekitsune

[cloudychoso]

choso is the type of man to apologise for going rough with you whilst simultaneously going even rougher because he just cannot help himself.

not when he’s pressing down on your tummy and can feel his fat cock thrusting into you from the outside. how’s he supposed to treat you gently after feeling that? and he is sorry, the thought of hurting you—even that addictive searing pain the stretch of his cock gifts you—is overwhelming.

so he will fuck you like he hates you all while whispering ‘i love you i love you i love you’ into your ear because you might not believe him otherwise. you take his cum inside of you, let him claim you from the inside out, and smile as he kisses over the marks he left behind—apologising against your skin like he won’t get just as carried away when he fucks you next.

[cloudychoso]

dreams, gojo satoru ➢ gojo satoru x f!reader ➢ breeding kink, creampie, references somno

It's like a dream. You feel like you’re watching the world through a thick layer of vaseline as you float atop your silken sheets. It’s a haze of white and blue around you; the shadows that hide in every crevice of your room melt away under that bright blue. It rings familiar, and your brain tickles to recall from where, but the softness around you wisps you from that answer. 

The touch is feather-light on your skin. Bare. Did you fall asleep bare? Your eyes flutter as butterflies kiss down your stomach, and mixtures of eyelashes and hair graze every curve. There’s something delicious in the underwater den you look at the world through. Every wall curls inward, and the curtains sway. You reach out to feel it against your skin, only to be caught by a firm grip. 

Hands. Veiny and decorated with a golden ring and scars along the knuckles. It’s like an anchor halting your dream state as you deliriously stare at the hand that holds your wrist. So confident in its grip, yet the touch is softer than your pillows. Like you may break, like you’ll disappear. Maybe you will. The magical glaze that coats your mind slowly shrinks away as someone kisses just above your belly button with a muffled whimper. 

How long has it been since you accidentally fell into the dream state? You groan. Shouldn’t your control be better than this by now? You’re far from the ten-year-old still trying to learn why they disappear into someone’s mind every night. Whoever is on top of you repeats your groan back as if it were one of pleasure, and you let your held hand fall limp to the touch. The weight on top of you, complete with soft, fluffy white hairs that ring that same bell of familiarity in your mind, shifts as the lips trail lower. 

What could possibly be the intent of this dream? Do you play along or pretend to still be coated in a thick layer of sleep? Your stomach flutters as eyelashes graze down, and a hand squeezes under your thigh as it’s lifted to curl over your hips. The hand still held in the air drops away to stroke at your waist, and you slowly lower your palm until it finds the soft locks. They easily part for your fingers as you comb through, and your nails scratch the scalp as lightly as you can manage, but the person above you whines in bliss. You can feel their erection press to your bare body, thankfully shielded by what feels like their pants. 

Blue eyes look up at you with a grin like that of a fox, and your body stills. Gojo Satoru has pulled you into his dream — his dream about you if your bedroom setting makes any sense. You glance away from him so he can’t catch the jolt your body made, only to notice a picture frame on the bedside table. Your heart thumps as you see the wedding robes you each wear. “Finally awake?” he moves up and leans into your neck, soft hair kissing your face as his lips gently press to the lobe of your ear. The cold of his ring at your waist is all you can think about despite how he slowly presses himself against your slick cunt. “Didn’t ya wanna wait for me to get home?”

How to play it… you have no clue what little fantasy Gojo must have of you, but it must be domestic. Your own wedding band weighs heavy on your finger, and you can’t help but glance at it as you place your hands on the back of his neck, playing with the growing undercut. “Tried to stay up,” it’s dark outside, but there's no clock in the room that could help you with whatever answer his subconscious seeks. He smiles into your neck; you can feel his blindfold tickle your chest as his glowing eyes illuminate the room around you. There are more photos — baby photos. You want to scream at the information he is inadvertently giving you, “‘s not my fault you got home so late.”

Gojo laughs, and it reverberates into your skin, and the hand on your thigh slides down toward your pussy. How are you going to face him in the morning? Maybe you should become a hermit and live in the woods? You can’t help the flutter of your eyes as his finger runs up your slit, dragging slick eagerness to your clit. “I know, baby,” he seems to whine into your neck, just feeling how wet you are, his hips rutting into your thigh for friction. Your hand slides down his curved spine, eliciting a shiver through him that makes you smile, and his face lifts from the crook of your neck. His thumb circles around your clit without properly touching, eyes gazing so lovingly at you that your heart stammers in the repeated beats. “At least you had my favourite girl all wet and ready for me.”

You cringe at how he refers to your cunt, but it only makes him laugh before leaning in to capture you in a kiss of raw warmth and devotion. You kiss back as best you can, heart still thumping at the revelations of his desires, and ignore how unabashedly nervous you feel. It reminds you of the first time you awoke in someone’s dream, barely nine, and just trying to survive the nightmare of being hunted by a clown. There’s no promise of death in this dream, and you’re far better at your control now that you’ve learnt how to use the power, but you can’t help that familiar twinge of danger from creeping up your spine. Gojo won’t be able to know you were here, but can you sit with him at breakfast and listen to him talk about whatever bullshit mission he has to go on without remembering this?

Morals aside and over a decade of friendship ignored, you lose yourself in the taste of his mouth. Twinges of strawberry mochi and caramel-flavoured coffee linger on his tongue, yet it feels so right — so purely Gojo Satoru. You pull yourself closer, arms tangling around his neck and your thighs hooking on his hips. The finger that circled your clit falls away in favour of holding you flush against him, squeezing when his lips muffle your moan. You’ve never tasted something so sweet, so intoxicating, as the kiss of your best friend. 

When he tries to pull back with echoes of laughter, you greedily pull him back and steal another candy kiss from him. Your tongue passes over his as you pull on his hair with urgency, and the pair of you groan into the other’s kiss. “You-“ kiss, far shorter than the last but just as needy, “really,” his laughter makes you pull him back for another peck. His taste, his touch, his unabashed love, is a craving you doubt ever getting over. You’re certain that it would only taste sweeter in reality, “really,” one last kiss, “missed me!”

The slightest hint of embarrassment washes you in guilt while Gojo laughs, whispering about how cute you’re being. If only he knows that you’re just newly addicted to him, to the secret he has kept from you for however long. If only you could ask questions, but you know that he would get suspicious of this dream state if you did. “Of course I did! You know I hate when you do missions alone.”

His fox-like smile returns, almost out of place with his pink cheeks. Your Gojo, the real one outside of the dream world, has always been a fiend for any type of praise and care; you shouldn’t be surprised that this dream version of him is the same. “Baby, I’m the strongest! Ya know I can handle it! And it only took me a couple days!”

Shit. You refuse to break even a sweat as you keep your same expression of mock disdain. “Not fast enough. How am I meant to live without my darling husband with me?”

Gojo laughs again, his eyes sparkling as they take over your naked form once again, stopping at your lips for just a brief moment longer. “This is why Shoko says you’re turning into me,” you glance back over to the baby pictures near the dresser. A son with eyes like his and hair like yours, dressed in his father’s blindfold that’s far too big on his head. You take the knowledge and grumble aloud about being outnumbered in this house, hoping to diffuse any confusion Gojo may have. You can’t fail now; if you don’t fulfil his dream, then his week is practically ruined by the short dream-induced coma it’ll cause. “If you feel outnumbered, we can always make a mini-you this time.”

One second passes — you take that time to freak out over the insinuation that Gojo barely hides in his smirk. You’ve been aware that you’re naked the entire time, and yet it never felt quite as real until now. His erection twitches in his pants, and you can’t help but shiver. The subsequent second passes, and you return to the character you fulfil, running a finger up and down his neck as you lean up to his lips. “Let’s see if you can, Gojo.”

With the shiver that runs through him, he can’t help but whine about the use of the family name. You don’t retort beyond a few giggles, too busy staring at how he strips himself of his pants and shirt with clumsy haste. He manages to only stumble over his feet once as he rips the pants from his insanely long legs, yet you still stare at him like a hungry wolf hunting prey. Is it wrong how bad you want this? No, you rationalise that this is his dream, so he is the one who wants to have sex with you! Not the other way around!

(though if the offer presents itself in reality, you’re not going to be turning it down by any means)

“C’mere,” when he climbs back on top of you, you force him to come closer with a tantalising curl of your finger. One hand finds its rightful place at your hip again, thumb rolling over a bullet wound scar you got a few years ago. The other knots itself in your open hand, fingers lacing together in a gesture more romantic than you thought Gojo could do, “finish what you started.”

He leans his body, and you feel the naked cock slap against your cunt. You shouldn’t be so wet, even if you joined the dream late and he already spent time playing with you. You just shouldn’t be so slick with need that you squelch just when his tip rubs against you. You squeeze his hand with a gasp, already imagining how he would feel snug inside your walls and pounding over and over until you get that little you he promised. “Fuck — really did miss me, didn’t ya? I barely even used two fingers before and look at this!” He shines as if you were some new discovery he made, and yet you hold no temperament outside of desire and craving for the man on top of you. ”Might hafta take longer trips so you get more desperate,” you roll your hips into him, causing his head to press against your clit. 

The jolt of pleasure makes you moan, and your back arches as though little occurred. It feels like you’ve been on the edge of this promised fate for eternity now, the taste on his tongue still haunting your lips as your eyes close to the world around you. “Shuddup,” you mumble, though the words feel empty of animosity or threat as soon as they leave your lips. You squeeze your hand in his, the cold of his wedding ring an exhilarating sensation that only makes you wonder how it must have felt when he was fingering you before you were pulled in. “I’ll go on the missions, so you get desperate. You’ll last maybe ten minutes?”

The sentence is broken by your heavy breathing as his cock lines up with you. Just the slightest touch of it already has you stretching in anticipation, a thigh coiling over his hips to help with placement. The anticipation already has you keeling in pleasure, eagerly awaiting the pleasurable sting of being stretched out. How far will he get? From how long he felt against you… your body shivers at the thought of him entirely inside you. “Why do you get to go on missions?” he pouts without any sadness or pity, and the glimmer of excitement in his eyes sells out his dramatics with ease. 

You take the initiative and start pushing your hips down his shaft. Like when you first awoke in the dream, everything feels light and is hidden with a haze of delight. If you didn’t already know this is a dream, you’d be convinced it turned into one with how good he feels slowly filling you up. Each vein throbs against your walls, and he hisses with clouded eyes. “Cause,” you remind yourself to breathe as he gets deeper, the lull of your tongue feels too big and you try to focus on not mindlessly babbling beneath him, “‘m a Gojo, now. Re-Remember?”

It likely turned into some form of gibberish by the final few words, but nonetheless, above you, Gojo pauses. You feel how he twitches inside of you, hear how your pussy pulls him in with a shlick, but nothing tops the way his lips form a pretty ‘o’ shape as he moans into the room. Everyone and their mothers know that Gojo is a moaner in bed, but it feels so different actually seeing it and hearing how fucking delicious it sounds. You reach up and pull his lips to you for another heated kiss, already swiping your tongue at his lips. 

He wastes no time and bottoms out, and you gasp into the kiss at how full you feel. Gojo throbs with every noise you utter, and just the tiniest movement of your hips has him moaning even louder. You relish how he reacts to your body, how he sings a cacophony of whimpers and grunts just for you to hear, and the soft way he squeezes your hand with reassurance. Just having his fingers between yours has your heart fluttering even when it feels like you’ve been stuffed so full your organs squish. 

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” his kiss turns sloppy as he mutters the word repeatedly as if he is convincing himself that your words are real. Your toes curl when he starts to thrust, pounding himself nice and deep inside of you as he continues his babbling monologue of reassurance. You mewl below him, clawing at the muscles in his back that flex beneath your fingertips. “All mine. My pretty, pretty wife,” his lips slot at your jaw with a gentle bite, and your eyes roll back when it’s combined with another thrust against you. 

Tears build in the corner of your eyes as the headboard slams against the wall like a drumming melody. He has to be in your stomach by now; you’re certain he somehow found a way to fill your throat, too. The haze in his eyes only grows foggier when he notices the tears as they fall. “Satoru,” you whimper quietly while pushing yourself to meet every movement of his hips, even when his hand tries to move you faster. 

His name becomes your chant as he fucks you into the mattress, responding only with reminders of the marriage he dreamed up. You lose yourself in the way his hips bruise you and the way he treats your hand like it’s glass on the verge of shattering. Every instinct in your mind goes haywire as your tongue babbles nonsensical words of pleasure. He returns to your neck, biting and kissing areas you didn’t even know were so sensitive. There would be no evidence come morning, when you both wake up from the dream, but you let yourself think that little marks will bless you in the mirror when you have a shower. 

When he shifts your thigh higher, you don’t expect him to hang it over his shoulder, but you don’t question his choice — instead revelling in the new angle he takes. Your nails dig into his knuckles as you cry out for more. Tears fall to the pillows beneath your head, slick drools over his cock and under your ass. “My wife,” he mutters into your ear again, placing your other thigh over his shoulder to match. Only when he leans in and arches you do you realise that he puts you into a mating press. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but you’re already clawing at his back and screaming yes, “gotta fill you again. Looked so pretty when you were pregnant. Gonna have so many more. Let me fill ya up, please!”

He’s bordering pathetic with how he begs, and yet you only grow needier. His hair sticks to him from sweat, and his lips are puffy from kisses; those big, beautiful eyes fill with watery tears as he pleads for you. “Fuck, yes! Please, Satoru!” Your thighs tremble under his touch. Your hand desperately grips his as you babble your answer over and over again. You need him like never before, crave to be filled with all of him, and still lick at the sweetness left on your lips. “Wan’ it!”

His thumb goes under your thigh to play with your clit again. Like before, he doesn’t directly touch it, only circling closer and closer until he reverses each action. It leaves you a perfect victim to the strings of your body — apparently, only Gojo can play it like this. He whispers about all the love he has for you, even with the slurred speech of lust, your heart melts at every proclamation he gives to you. “So glad you chose me. Never gonna have you regrettin’ it.”

Gojo thimbles about how he can’t wait to have another child, a daughter, this time so that he can be the perfect girl dad he was made for. You clench around his cock and moan as the throbbing refuses to cease, each vein detailed as they press into your snug walls. Whether the dream has finally reached your own subconscious or it just unlocks the path to old feelings you refuse to acknowledge, you aren’t sure, but you’re utterly putty in your hands when he tells you to cum and remind him why he missed you so much. And you aren’t one to deny Gojo Satoru what he wants; that’s how you managed so many years of friendship together in the first place. 

Your body shudders in his tight hold, eyes shut, and nose hidden in the hair you need to touch one last time. It’s like a flood of emotions wash over you as you release all over him, slick sliding to pool on the bed. He only moves faster as you meek with sensitivity, chasing that feeling for himself until he finally fulfils his promise and cums. It fills you and leaves a thick ring of white around his cock, though instead of pulling out, he keeps his cock warm inside of you, fingers collecting anything that spills to push back in. 

When you wake up, Gojo isn’t on top of you with his cock in your overfilled pussy. There aren’t marks on your neck or bruises on your hips. Your finger is empty of a wedding band, and your lips aren’t puffy from being kissed raw. Like nothing happened. You sigh and splash more water on your face, ignoring how the bathroom door peeks open. “What’s up, Gojo?”

“You didn’t… do anything last night, right?” He looks back and forth while refusing to gaze at you properly; his sunglasses don’t work to hide those movements as well as his blindfold. You raise an eyebrow at him and start patting your skin dry, and you keep eye contact with him purely to avoid staring at his chest and how good it felt up against you. “Had a good dream, is all. Won a lifetime supply of mochi.”

The lie makes you smile, not even bothering to tease him over the blush on his cheeks. “Sounds like a really good dream.”

© cloudychoso 2024 — do not steal, repost or translate

i don’t like this i don’t think 🍆🤓

[cloudychoso]

“the choreography”

rule 1. don't be a fucking asshole i mean it. no racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia or anything that even counts as a fucking 'phobia' when its just an excuse to hate on people. i will not have any of that here, and if i even get a whiff of that bullshit, your ass is being kicked out

➢ rule 2. no minors it makes me uncomfortable to see minors interact with things that are made explicitly for adults and contain things that minors just shouldn't be exposed to by an adult. so please leave me and my blog alone.

rule 3. aging up i genuinely have no opinion toward this?? like do what you what no one is being harmed but, unless I make a post saying that I don't mind receiving requests for like inumaki or itadori please don't send them in.

➢ rule 4. requesting do's and don'ts i refuse to write anything with scat, teacher x student, piss, age gaps involving someone under 25, non-con or rape play. i am okay with anything not listed here, though be warned this list is always subject to change

© cloudychoso 2024 — do not steal, repost or translate

[cloudychoso]

“the setlist”

➢ gojo satoru dream

➢ kamo choso no performances yet

➢ nanami kento no performances yet

➢ geto suguru sacrifice

➢ fushiguro toji no performances yet

➢ ryomen sukuna no performances yet

© cloudychoso 2024 — do not steal, repost or translate let me know if there are any other characters you want to see xx

[cloudychoso]

“do not fear for miss daae the angel of music has her under his wing”

dahlia. nineteen. she/they. scorpio. november baby.

➢ the setlist ➢ the choreography ➢ the performers ➢ the encore

cc.navi — navigation, masterlist cc.writes — fics, drabbles, one shots cc.recs — story recommendations cc.txt — ramblings, stories

© cloudychoso 2024 — do not steal, repost or translate