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screampied · 13 days ago

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34+35 𝜗𝜚

❤︎ sum. can you stay up all night? fuck him ‘till the daylight, 34 + 35? nanami kento, ijichi kiyotaka, geto suguru, choso kamo, gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen, toji fushiguro

warnings. fem! reader, unprotected, 69, manhandling, ass-obsessed men, true form! sukuna, fíngering, mirror séx, squírting, riding ijichi’s glasses, cunnīlingus, bjs, spanks, riding their tongues, praise, implied marathons, sukuna’s stomach tongue, overstim, pússydrunk men, messy eating, milking them, breedīng mentions, dirty talk, petnames.

✩ ˛˚ . IJICHI KIYOTAKA

“oh,” ijichi would gulp, basking in your slick glory that’s located between your cracked thighs. you’re arched over, holding your hips up while he laid flat on his back against the bed. as a mere taunt, you wriggle your ass against his face and you hear a small gasp depart from his thinly-parted lips. “ ‘s this position comfortable for you, m’ love?”

“mhmhm,” you’d hum, wrapping a hand around his vein-covered cock. from all girthy sides and angles, its decorated with prominent veins that prodded solely at the way your thumb rubbed against his tender foreskin. it even had a cute ‘lil curve on the side. “don’t be shy, ‘jichi. i’ll just be down here.”

with a teasing, sweet shimmy of your hips, your sloppy cunt ends up imprinting against ijichi’s squared glasses lenses. beforehand, he asked if he should take them off but oh, you insisted for him to keep them on.

right then, you moaned, feeling his tongue give your dripping folds a few flicks before he pushed the metal bridge back up his nose. “s- so pretty,” he’d murmur huskily, groaning mellowly once he felt the tip of your tongue slither around his ruby-colored tip. he’s still so sensitive, and ijichi squeezed the left cheek of your ass before giving it a soft sharp smack. “mngh- keep . . keep doin’ that, m’love. use your tongue like that ‘n ride against my- hah- face, fuck-”

it’s barely been a few seconds and ijichi’s already rendered completely speechless. as you arched your back over the top of his chest, he had a clear 20/20 vision of your dripping, glistening pussy steamily clouding his eyesight. with your panties lazily shoved to the side, he slides a thumb down your already pulsating clit that’s thump thump thumping.

“o… oh, wow,” he breathes shakily, guiding his thumb more up toward your sticky, dripping cunt. as ijichi was buried between your thighs, he was already feeling his mouth starting to water like a dog. it takes him a bit to actually find your clit, but when he does - you let off a sweet mewling sound that could easily pass for a harmony.

up close, your pussy was just so so pretty. in an erotic, carnal way - it even resembled a flower. his thumb softly pulled at the flap of your folds and you moaned, feeling his lukewarm tongue slickly dip its way inside. “am i doing this right?”

“you’re doin’ perfect, ijichi,” you moaned, making sure to lather your dripping tongue all over his darkly-red tip. he sucked in a short-winded breath beneath you, using his other hand to tug on his unkempt tie. his breathy, shallow pants aired against your cunt and you bit your lip, wriggling your slick core more swiftly against his face. “use your tongue a little more and- and, don’t be shy to be a little nasty.”

nasty.

ijichi’s ears perked, and he felt his dick twitch instantly in the palm of your hand. as you started to gradually fit his length inside of the cozy warmth of your mouth, he sighs deeply.

“okay-” he grunts, dragging your hips back just a bit more. your pussy wetly slides over the bridge of his nose before landing back on his compressed lips. he’s already starting to spasm with you on top of him, and ijichi’s now slurping your pussy. every few seconds, you’d feel the cold square lenses of his glasses tickle against your folds. “mngh-” he moans, feeling you cup a hand over his swollen base. they felt so full, and you hummed with a slight smile, just imagining how much of a load he was probably hiding.

you covered your teeth with your lips as you continued to go down - lapping up any glittery drop of saliva that spewed down the sides of his heavy cock. “mhm,” you muffled a sweet moan, hollowing your cheeks while feeling his tongue hungrily strum its way back ‘n forth against your g-spot.

it makes you shudder for a second, and you almost slip off another moan. ijichi was loudly moaning the entire time though, and he couldn’t help it.

it was just the way your tongue steadily glided its way down one of his veins before you popped your mouth back up to his tip was an echoing pop. while you continued, you brought your hands down toward your bare breasts before giving them a soft squeeze.

instantaneously, ijichi’s dark hooded eyes trailed down just for a quick peek and he murmured out a shaky, ‘oh f- fuck,’ once he saw you cupping your pretty tits whilst bobbing your head up and down on his curved shaft. “y- you’re so hot,” he huffed, dragging a hand through his neatly-gelled hair. “i’m not gonna… last m’love, not when you’re moving your pretty ass against my glasses like t- this.”

“didn’t say you could stop eating, ‘jichi.” you briefly popped his crowned tip from your slick-coated lips, steadying your rocky hips against his face. behind you, you heard him let off a throaty groan before his tongue tenderly flicked at your clit thrice. the gluey sap that dripped from your folds perfectly decorated a good portion of his lips, and that’s when ijichi started to pant even more.

“ ‘m sorry, f- fuck,” he whines between your legs, feeling your lips wrap back ‘round his aching length. taut gripping fingers tug at your perk ass before he’s rolling his tongue everywhere, feeling the sticky fog of your pussy cling against the lens of his prescription glasses. “ ‘m gonna cum. can’t hold-”

with a small smile, you whispered out a small, “go ahead,” before teasingly guiding the tip of your lukewarm tongue down his veiny cock. pants of pleasure surged through every part of ijichi’s body, and while his tongue was still buried inside of your clit, he finally releases. his wet lips were all glossy and raw-bitten as he pursed them, letting off a hoarse moan before his neck fell limp against his pillow. “t- that’s it, let go for me, baby.”

when ijichi came - he came hard.

his tip erupted like a volcano, remnants of his creamy mess spouting down your hand so warmly like hot magma. within an instance, you slowly traced your tongue around his leaking tip whilst letting off a content hum at his tangy taste. “ugh-” he swallows, feeling his limp body beneath you stiffen. ijichi was shaking while you continued to slither your wet tongue over his sensitive frenulum. “your tongue alone might just hah- make me propose, sweetheart.”

as your brows came together, you brought his leaking tip back away from your lips before turning around, and facing him. “oh?” you sweetly quipped, pressing both palms on his wrinkled business shirt. “well, are you?”

“maybe,” he breathes roughly, and you slip off a gasp once he suddenly spins you around, making you fall flat back against your chest. ijichi stares at your backside before pouting, re-adjusting his glasses whilst pressing his face close to your dripping pussy. “ahem, but first-” he clears his throat, and you moaned once he languidly slipped his thick ring finger inside of your folds, watching it disappear.

“l- let me practice my proposal, m’love.”

✩ ˛˚ . TOJI FUSHIGURO

“ah, c’mere,” toji grunts, dragging your hips back. callused, stubby fingertips softly pierce into the plush flesh of your hips before he positions you. instinctively, you raise your hips while getting a straight view of toji’s hard bulge poking through his denim-blue boxers. “park that pretty pussy, atta girl.” and you moaned, feeling the flatness of toji’s smooth tongue greet your drooling cunt with a starving wet lick.

as you looked in front of you - oh, he’s fucking hard.

your hand wrapped around his thick cock before you shyly flicked your tongue over his slit. gruffly, toji grumbles lowly beneath you before he uses two big hands to spread your cute squirming ass apart.

at the sound of a slick wet ‘pft’ - you gasped, feeling toji’s saliva abruptly trickle down. as you choked back whimpers, you delicately rubbed a thumb down his veiny shaft before gingerly sinking him into your mouth.

“fuuuck, that’s it, baby girl,” toji groans against your dripping heat, playfully capturing your clit with his teeth for a split second before releasing. toji was always nasty and he had no shame at all. he was always an eater and you and him both knew that.

slimy, glittery spit cascades down your puffed slit the more he continued to devour you. “work that fuckin’ throat like you always know how to do, mhm,” and you’re already drooling from the corners of your mouth as both of your cheeked puffed out from how full it was.

his cock’s just stupidly fat - it’s got a hanging curve of its own as it leaned, and his thick girth that prodded against the inside of your cheeks had you short-circuiting within seconds. every time you felt toji’s tongue sloppily zigzag its way through your cunt like a maze, your back arched further.

“ngh-” you’d let off a muffled mewl, trying to keep your focus in front of you. as your left palm continued to twist around toji’s hardened cock, your head finally started to bobble after a while. he’s underneath you the entire time, sliding his burly arms toward your thighs before teasingly pulling you closer to his starving mouth.

“awh, wish you could see how much of a crybaby you are right here between yer legs, sweet girl,” toji rasps, dragging his tongue across his lips before feeling you already starting to dampen his patchy stubble. “sooo damn wet for me that she’s cryin’ little crocodile tears,” he snickers, dipping his long tongue inside of your cunt only to snatch it right back out. your legs trembled over toji’s face and he lowly laughed against your pussy, giving it a cocky pat. “so cute.”

“s- shiiit, toji,” you drawled out a sobbing whine, wetly popping his reddish-shaded tip out of your mouth. it’s loud, reverbing briefly through the four walls of your shared apartment before your toes promptly clenched. “ ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum, your t- tongue’s so d-”

as toji grabbed your hips, making you sit flat on his face, he grumbled against your soddened pussy. “not deep enough? yeah, i agree. hold still,” and you audibly gasped - much louder this time once his tongue expanded further inside you.

strands of his matted black hair tickled against you as he lolled his tongue against your salivating heat again and again ‘till you could practically taste your candied release. you’re rocking against his mouth as you still face the other way, moaning once his fingerprints harshly dug into the fat of your tender flesh. “ride it.”

“ride wh-”

“girl you heard me,” toji smacks his lips, hoarsely swatting a palm against your ass before taking a second to collect air in his raspy lungs. “ride it.”

you knew what he meant the second you heard him slip off a lewd ‘ah.’ toji’s tongue laid flat, and he held up your rickety hips from his face for just a moment before you prepared a sharp breath.

“o- okay,” you pressed your glossed lips together, slowly lowering your ass back down against his mouth. from nose to chin - oh, toji’s face was just smeared with your glimmering slick. it adds a sort of lewd shine to his face, and you caught a slight peek of it from craning your head back.

the creaking bed beneath you both seismically shook, its impact almost equivalent to an earthquake with the way your aching hips rocked and rocked over toji’s mouth. he’s got his pink tongue rolled out flat whilst he’s baring his verdant-green eyes into the rotating flesh of your ass. “mhm,” he gifts the right cheek of your ass a stinging mean slap, dragging out a sweet pitiful whimper from your lips.

a wave of rapture cascades down your veins as you twirl your hips ‘round, already spasming from his sloppy elongated slurps. you slid the tip of your tongue down his length whilst your free hand started to reverse its wet twists around his cock. “yeaaah, girl. use that.. hah- tongue.”

as a bit of your saliva poured from your droopy lips, you whimpered - feeling toji’s teeth softly nibble at your clit. he’s ruthless, using both hands to sprawl your ass apart wider before trailing his tongue up to lap near your neglected hole. your back remained arched as he slurped you clean, making sure the tip of his salivating tongue prodded through every wet part of your convulsing pussy. but after a few seconds, your body had about just enough.

you squealed, feeling yourself writhe on his flicking tongue while your vision temporarily turned into nothing but splotches of white. “f- fuuuck,” you’d drag out, gasping once your release finally came. it slams into you at full force, and your jaw tensed. you could still hear toji’s slick hungry slurps from behind you, and that’s when your legs cutely collapsed. “tojiiiii, toji-” and all you could babble out with his name as your weak hand still wrapped around his hardened cock.

“tsk,” he clicks his tongue, sliding a fat thumb down your pulsating clit before darting his tongue down your weeping opening. you moaned, feeling the edge of his scarred lips smear itself against your pussy and you could also feel the stretching grin growing across his lips as he stayed beneath your numbed legs. “poor thing. my girl’s just about had it, hm?”

and once he heard you cutely flop on the cushioned mattress, toji sits up, licking your slick clean from his now sheeny lips. “aw, my tongue too much for you?” he huskily utters, leaning his head down, kissing near the top part of your slobbering cunt. even still - you were shaking, fluttering from the after effects of his maddened tongue, and yet, you only wanted more.

toji raised a brow, seeing you suddenly arch your back again before using two fingers to spread your wet folds apart in front of him. while were still silently whimpering out cute ‘lil pleads of his name, you did a cute shimmy of your ass as if you were saying, ‘more.’ “dirty girl. teasing me with my favorite meal’s only gonna do so much.”

toji then rubs the entirety of his palm against your tepidly-hot pussy before softly pushing your head back into your fluffed pillow. “but fine, just keep that pretty ass up for me while i fuckin’ eat.”

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU

satoru drinks it just like water, saying it tastes just like candy.

if it was anything about him though, it was that he’s almost always had a sweet tooth all his life - but he had to admit, there wasn’t anything sweeter than his pretty ‘lil wife who gets a little too handsy when the little ones are spending the weekends at their grandparents.

with his blindfold still on, he’s got you frantically squirming over his naturally-smirking mouth while both hands deeply gripped onto the jiggling flesh of your ass. “s- satoru,” you’d sob out a sweet gasping whimper, feeling his wry tongue crawl its way through every nook and cranny of your dripping cunt. on your own, you’re effortlessly making the bed shake with your quaky tremors and it was just so cute. “sato- fuuck.”

“you’re slidin’ again, angel,” he murmurs against your pussy, and he’s just nose-deep. the tip of satoru’s nose was wet, as well as his chiseled chin that was just prettily shining all thanks to your slick. you leaned forward, glancing down at his flushed tip that was still spilling tiny droplets of pre from all plump sides. “mngh- don’t just stare, silly girl. you can hah- give it a little kiss while i eat-”

as you’re still allowing harmonic whines to pour from the cracks of your lips, you brought your glossed lips up to the head of his cock. satoru’s happily buried between your thighs, hungrily delving his tongue in ‘n out of your cunt with such bestial haste.

“oh, my goddd,” you bit your lip, bringing a hand to wrap around his length. slipping out your tongue, you slowly rolled it around his tip in hypnotizing circles, feeling him shiver beneath you. he gives your ass a playful smack, the visible recoil of your skin causing him to groan against your pussy. “m- mhm, don’t stop, ‘toru.”

the bed beneath you both shook so much that it was easy for one to mistake it for an earthquake. with the way you fiercely rocked your hips against his mouth in such an addicting motion, satoru’s starting to moan right with you.

“good girl, use those pretty hips uh huh,” and you felt his lips suddenly depart for a second before feeling something else. as satoru’s recollected shallow airy breaths, he prods the tip of his lanky middle finger against your sobbing pussy. “real question is, is she gonna be a good wet girl ‘n open up a liiiittle more for me?”

as your lips wrapped around satoru’s cock, you let off a muffled moan once his digit started to vanish inside of your squeezing cunt. your tummy heaved, gasping silently at the tender feeling while barreling such a looong finger inside. your tongue swiped its way across his sweet-tasting tip before you started to quicken your pants.

“phew,” satoru ogles intently, staring as you kept your sprawled legs apart. he watched closely as you instantly clenched around his finger, dampening his digit within minutes. your pussy even squelched out wet little sounds of its own, and he can’t help but softly rub his thumb down your puffed clit. “guess she can. my wet wifey can just about do anything when she’s soaking for me, hmm.”

“mmngh-” you moaned, both of your legs shaking once he dipped his same finger right back out. satoru licks it clean before lolling his desirable pink tongue right back out. your mouth’s full, and you’re trying to maintain focus but failing every passing second.

satoru spreads your ass apart, shamelessly slurping your pussy as he felt the cute ‘lil pulses tickle his tongue. whilst he’s shamelessly devouring you whole, his pretty white lashes remain closed for the time being. you were spasming on his mouth as you continued to take him in your mouth.

but right then, satoru flutters his eyes open, pulling his blindfold up from his face like they another pair of your lacey panties. he snickers, using his technique to know you were just about there. “uh oh,” he murmurs, staring at the slick that’s just mindlessly dripping down your pussy. “something’s tellin’ me that my wife’s about to make a little mess.”

with a ‘pop’ - his dick departs from your lips and you inhale a breath, whimpering at the sudden pressure threatening to finally reach its peak. “satoru, something’s coming-” you mewled pathetically, reaching a hand back to grab at his unkempt white tresses. instinctively, his head leans further against your cunt and he huskily chuckles. “ ‘m gonna cum.”

“oh, i know,” he mumbles, luminous cerulean eyes fixating its gaze between your quaking thighs directly above him. satoru grabs at your doughy ass before sliding a finger back inside of your cunt again.

“go ‘head then,” and his voice was so deep - a lot silkier this time. you moaned, feeling another finger curl its way inside and he’s just slowly scissoring both digits inside of your soddened pussy. “c’mon angel, give it to me. you got it girl, riiide it all out on my tongue, mhm-”

at the low, husky cooing of his words - your pretty pitching orgasm rings through his ears.

right as you ended up squirting, you couldn’t stop the sweet little squeal that ran away from your trembling lips.

your teeth-shattering release loosens your shoulders before you whimpered, choking on your whimpers whilst you still felt him darting his tongue down your sappy entrance. “satoru, f- fuck, fuckk,” you’d trill whimperingly, continuing to feel him sloppily scrape his hot tongue through the outskirts of your pussy. “thankyouthankyou-”

“aw, you’re welcome,” satoru mumbles, noticing the slick moisture that was starting to stick down against your legs. your body still shook over him violently, and as you’re trying to recover from your recent finish, satoru gives your drooling cunt a kiss.

he even pats your wet folds with the back of his blindfold before giving your pretty pussy its last and final sloppy kiss.

“nice to hear my pretty girl’s still got manners at least heh.”

✩ ˛˚ . CHOSO KAMO

“princess,” choso sat up from between the sprawled heat of your thighs. as he licked his upper lip, from top to bottom, it was practically smeared with your shimmery essence. he’s been eating you out for hours probably, and with a glance out the window, it was already turning daylight. you looked down at him, still struggling to catch ragged, deep breaths before meeting his lust-filled gaze. choso gives your clit a single wet kiss before sheepishly grinning. “i wanna try 96. i saw it online and-”

“96?” you smiled, giving his head a soft pat. “don’t you mean 69?”

choso huffs, sitting up to lean into you. “yeah yeah, same thing,” and he brings his needy, hungry lips to yours. you returned the kiss, curling your tongue ‘round his while his cherry-mint taste exploded against your buds. “can we try?”

“okay-” you smiled against his lips. choso moaned once you playfully flicked his chest, making him flop back against the satiny-black sheets. he pulled your hips back toward his face while you wrapped a hand around his thick cock. it’s tip had a nice dark red shade, and he was still oozing a bit of pre-cum from just tasting you.

you arched your back at the most perfect angle, letting off an airy, mewl gasp once you felt his shallow breath of air against your cunt. already, choso felt himself salivating at the mouth once he single-handedly spreads your pussy with his thumb.

“oh… oh,” his expression goes slyly timid, and he even leans in to give your pussy a wet kiss. “you’re so pretty over me like this.” he whispers, watching the strings of slick messily stick onto its lips.

lazily, choso slouched back against the tottering bed frame before he wrapped an arm around your torso. he’s tenderly soft, aligning his parched mouth with your cunt as his tongue swiped its way against your clit. “m- mhm, just like that,” your voice shook, feeling his smoky breath glue against your skin.

choso was still in his boxers, and your brows curiously knit together - noticing his visible bulge that was damn near painfully poking through the cottony fabric. you arched your back just a little more, leaning in close before licking around the fat print of his bulge.

you could’ve sworn his dick twitched the second your tongue trailed itself over the fly part of his boxers. “p- princessss,” he hisses, reluctantly breaking away from your cunt to glance down at you. since you were turned the other way, he couldn’t really see much of you like he initially wanted and it made him pout. “don’t be a tease.”

“ask nicely then, baby.” you softly uttered, sliding a thumb down toward the gusset part, guiding it slightly up near the upper middle. it’s just poking out, and you could see a bit of a dampening dark-grey spot where his tip prodded at behind the fabric. choso grunts, feeling you cutely wriggle your ass against his face before he deeply sighs.

“f… fine,” he grits his teeth, dragging poised fingers down each of your wobbly thighs. “please just-” he swallows, feeling his boxers grow tighter after each nanosecond that passed. the air around him felt so hot, and he already knew he was leaking a bit of pre-cum just by your intimidating proximity.

fuck.

“please, pretty please,” choso goes back to lapping his tongue against your slick cunt, eating a sweet gasp from you. “pull my boxers down ‘n… do whatever, please, just make me mmh- feel good, princess.”

“good boy,” you mumbled, using a hand to spring out his thick cock. choso whined from your feverishly hot touch as he felt the edge of your dripping tongue skim its way around the crowned head. his tip’s a fiery blushing red, and as he presents a single kiss to your clit �� he shudders underneath you. you use a thumb to rub over his slit before using a palm to wrap over his veiny cock. “mhm, how’s it feel?”

with both bodies against each other rhythmically moving in delayed sync, choso slipped off a strained whimper. “so good, s- so good, princess,” and his blurbs of whines get caught in between your cunt once he purses his swollen lips together. you moaned once choso latched his lips against your sticky pussy, giving your honeyed folds a needy, long slurp.

you brought your same thumb behind the head of his cock, slowly massaging it before lapping your tongue around a bit of his foreskin. underneath you, you heard choso’s breath get caught in his throat and it was quite cute how he forgot to breathe for a second. “more, more-”

“more please.”

“more… please.” choso repeats after you, damn near falling in love once he feels the sloppy reverse of your hand that’s softly twisting at his cock. you rocked your hips over his face as you continued, allowing a bit of shimmery spit to fall from your lips and dribble onto the crown of his plump shaft.

“m- mistress,” he hiccuped, feeling your hot mouth vacuum each side of his cock before giving his tip a slurping wet suck. “i mean mommy,” he moans again, feeling his lips quiver once he feels you licking near his tender frenulum. “i- fuck.”

you giggle at his stammering, dragging your tongue down a prominent vein that runs down the left side of his dick. choso’s running a hand through his matted black strands before he digs the top row of his teeth in his bottom lip. “you gonna cum for me, ‘cho?”

“yeah, ‘m gonna fuckin’ cummm,” he nods, staring down at the slick sides of your thighs that were just dripping with your wet mess.

choso couldn’t help but run his tongue down at the trail he created, happily relishing in your flavor before he felt himself about to burst - literally.

choso swirled his tongue inside of your pussy in exaggerated, tight circles ‘till you started to feel your legs trembling. he moans at the sight of you wriggling your ass against his face, and he even prods a thumb against your twitching clit that continuously pulsed from the numbing stimulation. “make me cum, yeah- make me f- feel good, pleaseplease-”

he continued to babble against your slick folds until he eventually came, shooting milky-white stripes of cum that messily sprayed against your hand. he’s shaking underneath you, moaning out your name in his raw hoarse voice before you started to lap the mess up.

“good hah- boy,” you breathed dryly, kissing all sides of his hooked cock. it just about fits in your palm perfectly, and he shuddered each time you toyed with his tender glands with the tip of your tongue. “did so good.”

“can you..” choso huffed weakly, a sheepish grin forming on his lips. you watched as his chest went up ‘n back down again while he was pawing clingy hands at both of your hips. you were about to turn around but he stops you, making you continue to face forward. “can you do t- that with your mouth again?” and choso aligns himself against your weeping pussy once more, coating your folds with a multitude of wet kisses.

“i think i like 96 now, h- heh.”

✩ ˛˚ . SUGURU GETO

geto’s a wild, untamed animal…

with him, he’ll leave you feeling sore for hours with all of your limbs feeling like they’re on the verge of falling right off. as he talked you through probably your third orgasm of the night, your knees buckled.

there was a long rectangular mirror that was propped up in front of you both too, mirroring every single coarse and filthy position he introduced your body to.

“f- fuuuck,” you whimpered, bringing your hips to a slowing halt as he was still buried deep inside of you. geto’s laid beneath you, staring at the ridden bouncy flesh of your ass grinding against his sharpened pelvis. his cock deeply dragged its way through your cunt, sloppily massaging your walls before you bit your lip. “fuck, sugu- ‘m still c- cumming-”

“i know,” he huffs, watching your limp body shake as your back turns the opposite way of him. your hands rested on his knees, and he couldn’t help but steal glimpses at your ass that swayed itself against him. “and i want a taste.” swiftly, he lifts you, spinning you around before pulling your legs back. you moaned, feeling his spit-glossed lips decorate a path of kisses down your tepid thighs.

dark, lust-filled eyes studied your jerking movements before he positioned you to align your ass to hover over his face.

you sucked in a windy breath, feeling geto’s tongue wetly flicks its way against your pussy and you quickly craned your head to look at him, only to feel his palm whack against your ass.

“ah, ahhh- eyes on the pretty girl up front,” geto gruffly reminds you, slightly turning your head to stare at the reflection of yourself in his propped up mirror. “all you need to worry about is keepin’ this pretty ass up for me.”

“but-”

“but-” he mocks your tone, surprising your cunt with a wet kiss, causing you to whimper. geto unapologetically spits against your glistening heat before lapping it right back up again, circling the pad of this thumb ‘round your pulsating clit. “but nothing, have some manners, sweetheart. you’ve done enough talking for the night,” and geto hums, dipping his thumb inside of your cunt with ease before gluing his lips against your core once more. instantly, slippery squelches wetly sing from between your legs and you whine, glancing at yourself in the mirror. “but she’s always got something to add, cute.”

while geto’s occupied by being between your thighs, your eyes land down at his cock. and oh, was it always so, so pretty.

his tip had a bit of a tan, and before you knew it, your spit-dribbling lips were already wrapping ‘round his fat length. “mmhhm-” you moaned, swirling your tongue over one of the many veins that prodded down his cock. he’s still got his lips latched to your pussy, rummaging the pointed tip of his tongue through every convulsing orifice ‘till you damn near screamed all three pretty syllables of his name.

in his mind, you looked ethereal like this - bent over and arched on all fours.

every time you squirmed, he sucked harder against your cunt and you were at a loss for words every time. “my tongue, pretty girl,” geto grumbles, clawing a hand at your right ass cheek. he sharply spanks it twice, hearing your sweet mewling sobs in front of him before he hoarsely groans. “fuckin’ ride on it for me, ‘m so thirsty.” and you let off muffled noises of your own, rolling your hips back. as geto’s tongue stayed lolled out, your pussy ferociously dragged itself against the flatness of his tongue.

his tastebuds never felt so hot. you moaned, feeling the middle of his tongue curls itself back before laying flat again.

you whimpered, using a hand to stroke his veiny cock while you continued to messily bob yourself up ‘n down. you’re even sloppy yourself, feeling the slippery beads of saliva pour from the corners of your lips.

after each slurp, his cock moderately grows in your mouth. “mmngh-” you moaned with your lashes momentarily shut, feeling his tip abruptly slap its way against the roof of your mouth. within minutes, your chin was starting to shine with your saliva and you only wanted more.

“that’s my girl, fuck,” geto groans against your pussy that drenched him from his nose to his pointed chin. with two clammy hands, geto pulls your hips back a bit once he watches you squirm. immediately, your hips buckled and flopped against his chest with his dick still keeping the left inside of your cheek company. “mmgh-”

minutes pass with you still taking geto’s hefty cock in your mouth with his lips still greedily attached to your cunt. the both of you came at an overwhelming high so fast that you could almost taste your orgasmic finish on the tip of your tongue. as geto continued to lap at the remnants of dripping saliva that tried to pour down your slit, he’s feeling his shaft tighten by the second. not even a nanosecond passed before a raw, throaty groan leaves from him.

“oh, f- fuck,” he stammers, and he’s cumming - hard, aiming straight at the back of your throat. his hips fiercely piston along with your own hips madly shaking over his laid-out tongue.

it’s got a bitterly sweet tang that makes you hum, feeling geto moderately pour his mess inside your mouth. you softly twisted his veiny length with one hand before lewdly popping his dick from between your slickly-wet lips.

“mhm,” you hummed, still panting as you took a second to swallow. geto was literally melting underneath you, and he had to keep pushing away the sticky black strands that glued to his forehead. “suguru-”

“damn,” he mumbles, a sleazy pussy-drunk grin plastered on his face. through the reflection of the mirror, you saw geto lay down, buried between your legs with both hands grabbing at each part of your ass. he laps his tongue up your glossed slit before giving your cunt a few open-mouthed kisses. “mhm, thank you.”

“for wh-”

“quiet, baby,” he hoarsely whispers, taking a few thick fingers down your puffy entrance. your back remained arched as you moaned, feeling the warmth of his breath tickle against your dewy core.

geto then sat up, reeling your hips back toward his face before spanking your ass for probably the nth time.

“give me just one more, ‘m still so hungry..”

✩ ˛˚ . SUKUNA RYŌMEN

continuously - sukuna’s snatched out multiple orgasms from you ‘till you could barely even mutter out audible, coherent words. he’s just so big, especially in his true form where the word 'stamina' was practically non-existent to him.

“you, get up here,” he slouched back against his throne as you were still heavily panting. you were sitting on his lap, still feeling that quavering shake between your legs after you finished riding him. “i wanna try somethin'.”

“okay-” you’d breathlessly sigh with droopy eyes. sukuna snickers behind you, and he eventually helps you up. brawny, beefy arms wrap ‘round you securely before suddenly, you find yourself upside down on his king-sized bed. your eyes enlarged to the size of saucers, and upon instinct, your hands grab onto his sprawled-out knees. “ ‘kuna, don’t drop me!”

“ ‘m not,” he rasps with an eye roll, spreading your feeble legs apart. a gust of balmy wind sets against your sloppy cunt and you whimpered. you could just feel the cold, sinister yet silent state of sukuna’s eyes focusing primarily between your legs. you’re still so wet, and he gives your drooling entrance a single kiss. “sit on my stomach, trust me.”

time stands still as you’re propped up just below sukuna’s chest with your body facing the opposite way. you tried to sit up, only for him to crisply slap a palm against your left ass cheek. “down, girl,” he snarled, and you gasped once you suddenly felt something appear and rub underneath your thighs — his stomach mouth - oh, you sometimes literally forgot he could create extra mouths on his body.

sukuna hums in carnal virility, bringing his forked stomach tongue towards your dripping opening before sloppily stealing the first wet lick.

you were oh-so-sweet, sweet as honey as he relished your glacé-tasting flavor. the moment sukuna used two hands to steady your hips, you moaned. the other two unoccupied hands went down, stretching the mouth on his stomach apart much wider while you took your seat on his ‘throne’ - his tongue.

the tongue wetly rolled itself out, delving inside of your pussy and it was just so careless. “f- fuuuck-” you whined, already bucking your hips against his ripped abdomen.

it was just so risqué.

sukuna was no stranger to eating you out but it was a lot different with his stomach tongue.

from the very pink tip, it’s drooling from your sweetened taste alone, and you’re already spasming. it’s so long too, and your eyes widened once you started to feel the delicious stretch of his tongue within no time.

“arch more for me, bend,” he gruffly murmured, trailing his crimson-red eyes down toward your squirming waist. you arch forward, staring at his dick in front of you and noticing how each prodding vein twitched through his skin. he sighed deeply, feeling your tongue lap its way against each prominent vein before he spanked your ass. “dirty girl, can’t help but get a taste too, hm?”

“suku-”

slap.

another loud spank interrupts you, and your trembly incoming words transform into a full-throated moan. you whimpered, still hearing the sloppy sloshes of your cunt as his stomach tongue continued. after another slap comes, the skin of your ass ricochet against his palm and you heard him groan from behind you. “fuck,” sukuna grumbles, compressing his pink brows together. your jolting body above him continued to writhe as the slimy tongue on his stomach continued to slide itself near your tender clit.

drops of shimmery dew pooled down your slit as you aligned your lips around his fat hefty cock. a glossy tear of pre-cum dribbles its way from his tip and you licked it instantly, humming at the bittersweet taste that clashes against your buds.

“mmgh, ‘kuna,” you moaned between greedy slurps, using a hand to grab near his full base. he groaned, feeling the tip of your thumb stroke down a prodding vein. his entire body from top to bottom was primarily decorated with his ancient markings and was now covered in glistening sweat.

“ ‘m not gonna hah- last,” you whimpered, gasping once you felt the forked tip of his lower stomach tongue repeatedly flicks its way at your sensitive nub. every languid pant you puffed out felt like it was going to be your last, and you were counting the seconds ‘till your sweet reverie would finally come.

“well yeah, you never do,” he grunts, feeling the wetness of your mouth linger over his plump cockhead.

sukuna’s domain was eerily quiet - except, the only sounds that could be heard were his extra tongue and your slick, sloppy squelches that reverbed through his royal chambers. he felt you cutely scooting yourself back ‘n forth against his stomach while you were partially taking him in his mouth. you tried, and you batted your lashes before moaning once you felt his dick twitch again against your wet tongue.

eagerly, your frantic hips buckled before you removed your naturally-glossed lips from his shaft, cutely craning your head back for a quick peek. “nosy little girl,” he reaches forward, slightly making you face forward. “nothing for you to see.”

you pout, facing the same way you were before as his tongue continued. quickly, your little pout turned into a more lewd look as your jaw started to drop. in milliseconds, your poor, empty brain was turning into mush as you felt all types of elation spike through your veins. “sukunaaa-” you whined, biting your lip once his stomach tongue ruthlessly stretched itself even more inside of you. you were grinding against his chiseled abdomen, feeling the sticky sap of your mess glue down your sprawled legs before you let off a yelping clamor. “i’m gonna-”

your sweet, belting words were interrupted by a gasp that ripped from your near-sounding hoarse windpipe. you slouched forward, feeling your poor legs grow limp as the tongue sloppily dragged a path near your hole before trailing back down towards your sopping pussy. you were speechless with half-open eyelids draping, barely holding themselves open.

“s- shit,” you whimpered through shaky lips, feeling your entire body reaching near its end. sukuna grabbed your hips, making you swirl your ass around his stomach one more time. “oh, my g- god.”

“hmph,” the demon grumbled, glancing down at his extra tongue that even licked the wet crevices of its mouth clean. you had a good portion of his stomach covered wholly with your lustrous slick, and within a second, the tongue retreated, flopping itself back into its mouth. “you could use a bit more training.”

“training?” you breathed, still feeling your legs tremble as a wind of fresh air forced its way out of your lungs. you slumped forward in defeat, whimpering silently as a prurient wave of static shock surged through your limp body.

sukuna snickers, lifting you before pulling you back up on his lap. “yeah, training,” he repeats roughly, and he suddenly sits himself up on his bed.

as he takes a three-second glance at your body with his rouge-colored eyes, sukuna spins you around. you slipped off a gasp, moaning once he started to bring your legs up. he brought one of his hands down toward your dripping pussy before giving it a soft pat. “we can start by working on your flexibility,” and you moaned, feeling sukuna’s lower arms lift you with his other set of arms squeezing at your bare breasts.

he’s aligning you over his cream-covered tip before you feel another tip poke its way against your inner thighs. you almost forgot how he could just duplicate any part of his body, and you already could just taste how stretched you were about to get.

“upsie-daisy,” he grunts, pulling you up with such strength before he gifts your wet pussy its second slap. you whimpered, babbling faint whines of his name before sukuna lightly nipped his fangs into the left side of your neck.

“mhm, fuck- now open up for your king like a good obedient girl.”

✩ ˛˚ . NANAMI KENTO

nanami groaned, intently eyeing the creamy-white mess that dribbled down the left side of his cock. “mmgh- sweetheart,” he swallows, dragging a hand through his neatly-parted blond hair. you moaned as you straddled him in his home office chair that squeaked each second you put your thighs to work. “wait a minute, bend over the desk for me, sweetheart.”

“okay.” humming sweetly, you removed yourself from his lap before leaning over his worn-down, groaning desk. nanami gnawed on his bottom lip as he slouched at his desk, bringing a thumb towards your stuffed cunt.

“now, look at thaaat,” he huskily utters, gradually trailing the tip of his pointer finger down your drooling slit. it’s probably been about the third time of the night that he’s stuffed you, and he grunts once he sees the cute ‘lil wriggle of your impatient hips. instantly, your ass jiggles and nanami brings a soft kiss to the right cheek of your ass. “get on the desk, my love. ‘m still a little thirsty.”

he helped position you on the desk with him laying flat back against the worn-out wooden furniture. you slumped over him, poking your ass just above his face with you facing the other direction.

“k- kentooo-” you whimpered, gasping once you felt his tongue already lapping at your glistening slick cunt. piles of nanami’s documents packets that scattered everywhere fell to the floor once you aligned yourself. you held back a whimper, feeling his tongue sloppily flick itself down your slick opening.

you moaned, feeling the cold band of his watch tickles its way against your skin. as you leaned forward, your spit-drooling lips wrapped their way around his scarlet red tip. “my, look at how it all just spills out,” murmured, feeling his dick twitch at the milky masses of cum that oozed down your sopping entrance.

once nanami brought his lips back toward your cunt, he wetly dips it inside before dragging it down to flick itself against each sensitive nerve stored inside you. “mhm, my pretty girl can’t help but taste so sweet when she’s filled to the brim.”

“f- fuck, ‘ken,” you’d dig the top row of your teeth down on your bottom lip, feeling and hearing him slurp up every ounce of molten pools of his cum drizzling down your clit. as you faced forward, you looked down at his veiny cock that stood tall.

nanami’s business slacks were pulled down, and your eyes couldn’t help but linger at his blond happy trail that decorated a good portion of his abdomen. “don’t s… stop-” you mewled, bringing your quivering lips toward his strawberry-colored tip.

with a single wet lick, you swirled the tip of your tongue ‘round the crown of his leaking head before pressing sloppy kisses near the bulky, veiny sides. nanami lets off a heady groan, slipping thick raw moans between your legs, and his lips were starting to glue against your wet pussy. as you started to take him into your mouth, nanami slips a thick middle finger in between your weeping folds.

“move yourself against my tongue, sweetheart, mhm.” he throatily whispers, using his other hand to bring a soft, teasing smack toward the left cheek of your ass. you leaned forward, whimpering once you felt your feverish cunt drag itself back and forth against the flatness of his salivating tongue.

nanami was a starved man, and he loved more than anything for you to quench his thirst with your sweet, honeyed taste.

like most times, he could barely fit inside, and once his bulbous-shaped tip hit against the roof of your mouth, you let off a muffled moan. your eyes prettily rolled way back at the feeling of both his thumb and tongue prodding inside of you.

“ ‘m s- so close, kento,” you whined, occasionally popping his tip from between your swollen lips every few seconds to speak. your hips cutely threw themselves back against his face, and nanami’s just effortlessly lapping up every glittery drop that trickled from your slit. “right there, fuck, fuck, please-”

“c’mon, sweetheart, be a good girl ‘n give it to me,” nanami airily gruffs, staring at his stringy webby globs of saliva that stuck against your cunt. he’s diving in face first, hungrily jackhammering his tongue in between your puffed folds continuously non-stop.

you couldn’t help but grind yourself back against his tongue while you kept bobbing your head.

the position alone was so crude, not to mention over his home desk - but nanami couldn't care less. he felt you starting to spasm and he hummed, bringing three wet kisses against your pulsing clit. once you loudly ‘popped’ his tip from your lips yet again, you started to whine out cooing little babbles and nanami sweetly cut you off, “shh, i know. where’s my wet girl? it’s okay, you got it, just let go for me. i’ll clean my messy girl riiight up, promise.”

callused, big hands tenderly spread your ass apart as you trembled above his body. the poor wooden desk the both of you laid on was creaking noisily. the old furniture sounded like it was pushing its limit as your thighs were tensing after each unpredictable swirl of his tongue.

a hot, pooling sensation curled its way inside of the lower pit of your stomach ‘till your eyes eventually crossed inward. “oh, f… fuuckk,” you whimpered sweetly, shuddering once you started to feel yourself violently convulsing on nanami’s flat tongue.

your euphorically elated release hits you roughly, slamming into your face first like a truck - and he’s still slowly guiding his tongue up ‘n down your glistening slick while you spasmed.

your senses were fully heightened as pretty inaudible whines drew from your lips. nanami’s blond brows knit together as he licked you clean, even grabbing his handkerchief from the small pocket of his casual dress shirt to wipe against his mouth.

“good girl…. my hah-good girl,” he purrs lowly, briefly sitting up to see you still perfectly arched over him. “heh, you know how to make a mess out of me,” and nanami gives your clit its final departing kiss before softly rubbing the silver band of his ring down your slippery folds.

for a split second, nanami’s browned eyes avert down towards your twitching pussy before he sees it still dripping with sap right before his eyes. he hums before playfully dragging your hips back toward his face, propping you right back on his mouth.

“but ah, don’t run now, silly girl. ‘m not done with you yet. work can wait, my wet wife can’t. now sit.”

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mayowayo · 5 months ago

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what being trans feels like lowkey

#hes trans #i decided like two days ago #teehee slides all my trauma onto him #asher draws #digital art #mayaposting #oc art #transgender #'you did the colors wrong on the-' NO YOU ARE WRONG I DID THAT ONPURPOSE #its symbolic #anyways love him hope he dies <3 #i find that all his solo pieces are chaotic and full of (my) trauma #love that for him #jacki gets the good ones #she has one where shes playing guitar on a roof #ok byeee

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kthologue · 2 months ago

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operation: get over your childhood crush! — gojo satoru

synopsis. in an attempt to move on from your childhood best friend—who definitely doesn’t see you the way you want—you hatch a series of plans to help you get over him. it doesn't go as planned.

contents. hurt/comfort, fluff, nerd!gojo, college au, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, unreliable narrator, miscommunication, insecurity, dorky references bc u make him go dumb and digimon inaccuracies probably

notes. i did not proofread this monster!! enjoy :P

The hum of the air conditioning fills the room as night settles in, the light from Satoru’s bedside lamp casting a soft glow over his mess of a room. You’re both sprawled out across his bed, limbs entangled like it��s the most normal thing in the world. Because, for the two of you, it is.

Satoru’s Nintendo Switch is balanced on his stomach, hands lazily tapping away as his little Digimon charges into battle on screen. You’re curled into his side, one leg hooked around his and a blanket thrown haphazardly across you both. The half-abandoned textbooks sit at the edge of the mattress, tragically ignored. Another study session: failed. Not that Satoru needed it. He passed everything with flying colors. It was more of an excuse for you to come over.

“Your room still smells like that cheap vanilla air freshener,” you mumble, nose scrunching.

“That’s because you bought it,” he replies without looking up, thumb expertly guiding his character through an attack.

“Because your room would end up stinking with sweat and whatever freaky stuff you do in here.”

“Hey!” He whines. “I shower everyday and you know it. The stink is all you. Have you ever sniffed yourself, princess?”

You swat at his stomach, and he lets out a dramatic grunt. “Rude. I brought that candle to add ambiance.”

“Ah yes,” he deadpans, “nothing like artificial sugar scent.’”

You snort, settling your head back down on his shoulder, the fabric of his hoodie soft beneath your cheek. There’s a long pause before you say, “You know, if we fail our exams, I’m blaming your Digimon addiction.”

He grins. “I’m raising digital warriors, thank you very much. And I’ve never failed an exam, don’t wound me now!”

“They look like mutant toddlers with attitude problems.”

He gasps, clutching his heart. “They’re champions, you monster.”

You laugh, letting the sound dissolve into something quieter as your fingers absentmindedly trace a pattern into the blanket. His hand rests near yours. Not holding it. Not not holding it.

His glasses are tilted again. Of course.

You reach up and straighten them with a sigh. “Honestly, you’d be lost without me.”

“Not true.” He says it reflexively, then pauses. His voice softens. “Okay, maybe. I’d probably just let them slide down until I walked into a wall.”

You smile faintly. “And there’d be no one there to patch you up.”

“Tragic,” he agrees. “Would bleed out on the floor, probably.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You’re so bossy,” he counters, shooting you a sideways look.

“Admit it,” he says, voice full of faux-smugness, “you’d miss me if I died tragically and left you all alone.”

You hesitate for a second too long before mumbling, “Don’t joke about that.”

It’s quiet. The game music loops in the background as his Digimon wins the battle with a triumphant fanfare.

He doesn’t say anything.

You suddenly feel too warm under the blanket. The joke had been harmless, stupid even.

But something inside you twists, the same something that’s been unraveling lately every time he mentions another girl.

Another type. That’s not you.

“You know,” you say slowly, eyes peeling from the screen to his phone, which lights up with a notification, revealing one of his favorite gravure model’s latest issues as its wallpaper. “You could probably date any girl you wanted. Why do you partake in freak stuff like this? It’s anti-girl repellent.”

He makes a noncommittal sound. “Doubt it.”

“I don’t. You’ve got that whole genius-who-doesn’t-realize-he’s-hot thing going on.”

He glances at you, skeptical. “Is that a thing?”

“It is. Annoying, but effective. Girls love it.”

He hums, clearly amused, cheeks slightly flushed. “Well, good to know I have options.”

You try to laugh, but it catches in your throat.

You shouldn’t ask. You really shouldn’t.

But you’re lying in his bed. Wrapped up in him like you belong here. And some part of you aches to know the answer.

So you pretend it’s a joke. You tilt your head against his shoulder, voice airy, teasing. “Hey, be honest—do you think I’m cute?”

He goes still.

His hand tightens slightly on the Switch. You think you’ve pushed too far, so you try to backpedal before he can respond.

“Not like… like that,” you say quickly. “I just meant, like, in general. Compared to those girls you’re into. Say, Waka Inoue. You know, long legs, shiny hair, cute face?”

His jaw tightens.

You’re still trying to play it off. “I mean, I’m not fishing for compliments. I just—was wondering.”

He finally turns to look at you.

His gaze lingers. And for the first time all night, he’s not smiling.

You feel your breath stutter in your throat underneath his gaze.

Then he shrugs.

“…Nah.”

It slices through the air with quiet finality.

Your heart drops. You don’t let it show. Not fully. But it must flicker in your face, because he quickly looks away.

You laugh. It sounds forced.

“Yeah, that’s fair. I mean, I wasn’t expecting a yes or anything.”

He’s silent.

You shift away from him slightly, giving him space. “I should head home soon. We didn’t really get any studying done, anyway.”

“It’s late. Why don’t you stay the night?”

Usually, you’d accept his offer with a smile, but you really wanted to go home and wallow in your own self pity.

“It’s fine, I have something to do anyway,” the lie slips out of your mouth easily as you begin to pack your things.

And you miss the way he watches you—guilt in his eyes, frustration on his tongue.

You knew it was time. Twenty years of hopeless, fruitless pining had done enough damage to your heart.

It had started the day your parents moved next door. Satoru had been the loud, obnoxious, too-pretty-for-his-own-good boy on the playground who shoved candy in your hand and asked if you wanted to be friends.

You’d been doomed since day one.

And to make things worse, you’d both gotten into Japan’s most competitive university—together. Same neighborhood. Same school. Same train route. You weren’t just stuck with him. You were haunted.

But you were young and hot. And allegedly in your prime. You couldn’t keep orbiting around a guy who still thought microwave gyoza was a food group and used your shampoo because it “smelled like you, so why not?”

You were sipping coffee with your two closest friends, and today’s topic was—unfortunately—your love life.

“Honestly, I can’t believe you’ve been stuck on Gojo for this long,” Utahime said, disgusted, as she stirred her latte like it personally offended her. “You could do so much better.”

“It was kind of cute in high school,” Shoko added “but now it’s just sad.”

You sighed, blowing on your drink. “I know, okay? It’s not like I haven’t tried. But he’s literally the only guy I’ve ever been close to. I don’t even talk to guys besides him.”

“That’s because he’s been gatekeeping you since the two of you met,” Utahime said flatly. “I swear, every time someone so much as glanced at you, he pulled that overprotective act.”

You wrinkled your nose. “That doesn’t sound like ’Toru…”

Shoko and Utahime exchanged a look. One of those knowing glances.

Utahime cleared her throat. “It doesn’t matter! What matters is you are hot. You’ve got the face, the body, the grades, the personality. You just need the confidence.”

You peeked up at her, unsure. “You really think so?”

Utahime leaned forward, smirking like she’d just won a war. “I know so. And that’s why I’ve come up with a plan.”

You narrowed your eyes. “A plan?”

She slammed her hands down on the table, eyes alight. “Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru.”

You blinked. “That’s… a long title.”

Shoko blew a slow stream of smoke. “It’s either this or pine until you die and haunt him as a love-sick ghost.”

You stared into your cup, sighing. “Fine. I’m in. What’s step one?”

Utahime grinned.

“Whatcha doing?”

Gojo’s voice drifts lazily over your shoulder, followed by the soft rustle of his hoodie as he leans in. He’s far too close, obnoxiously so, his breath tickling your ear and his chin was nearly resting on your shoulder.

You don’t even glance up. “Studying.”

The two of you are supposed to be studying— finals loom overhead like a guillotine, but as usual, very little academic progress has been made. Mostly because your study partner is a six-foot-something genius who insists on sitting sideways in the booth, long legs tangled in yours under the table like it’s second nature.

He hums, skeptical. “Liar.”

You hum noncommittally, thumbing through the dating app Utahime suggested with vague disinterest. The guys blur together: not tall enough, too cocky, too bland, too not Satoru. One makes a joke suspiciously close to a Gojo classic, and you immediately hit unmatch with a scowl.

“Wait,” Satoru says slowly. “Are you on a dating app?!” He practically yells the last part. Half the cafe turns to glare at the source of the disruption.

You hiss under your breath, mortified, swatting at him. “Keep your voice down, idiot!”

His eyes widen dramatically, hands thrown up like you’ve stabbed him. “I leave you alone for two minutes and you’re already planning a life with someone named ‘Keita, aspiring poet and spiritual healer’? I’m wounded.”

“You weren’t supposed to read that far.”

“I’m a speed-reader,” he says with a smug grin. “It’s part of the whole ‘genius’ thing.”

Before you can argue, he snatches your phone with a level of ease that tells you this isn’t the first time he’s done something like this. He grins like he’s won a prize.

“Satoru!”

“Relax, I’m not texting anyone,” he says, fingers flying across the screen. “Just optimizing.”

Your heart drops. “What are you typing?”

“Nothing~”

You make a grab for your phone, but he effortlessly leans back, holding it above his head with those ridiculously long limbs. You glare at him from across the table, arm outstretched like a furious cat trying to swat at the moon.

“Give it back!”

“Patience.”

“Gojo Satoru—”

“Okay, okay!” he relents with a dramatic sigh, finally placing your phone face-down on the table like he’s done you a huge favor.

You snatch it up immediately, eyes scanning for damage. No weird messages. No unsolicited likes. No new matches.

“…What did you do?”

“I didn’t message anyone,” he assures, too innocent to be trusted. “I’m not that cruel.”

You narrow your eyes, suspicious.

“But,” he adds with a grin, “I didn’t know you were dating.”

“I’m not,” you mutter, clicking your phone off. “Just considering it. Trying. It’s not going well.”

“Good.”

The word comes out too fast. Too sharp. And his face doesn’t match the light tone he’s trying to play off.

You raise an eyebrow. “Good?”

He shifts, leaning back in his seat, suddenly very interested in stirring the foam in his overpriced coffee. “I mean, it’s good you’re not settling. You should be picky. Guys are the worst.”

You snort. “You are a guy.”

“Exactly. I know what we’re like.”

You smile despite yourself, rolling your eyes. “I’m sure you think you’re the exception.”

“I know I am,” he says, winking. Then he sobers slightly, eyes flickering to yours. “I’m just… looking out for you.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache. You wish it was more than just him being protective in that big-brotherly, annoyingly loyal kind of way.

You take a sip of your coffee to cool your nerves. It doesn’t help. The words come out before you can stop them.

“You know with the way things are going… maybe you should just date me at this point.”

Silence.

It’s a joke. Supposed to be. But the second it leaves your lips, it tastes real.

Gojo freezes.

You panic. “I didn’t mean—like, I was just joking—”

But he turns toward you, eyes unreadable behind the fringe of snowy white hair. “Maybe I should.”

You blink.

And then, with infuriating ease, he grins.

“Anyway,” he says quickly, swiping your phone from the table again before you can stop him, “Yuto here looks like the type to ghost you after three dates and a karaoke duet. You can do better.”

You gape at him, completely thrown off, your heart slamming in your chest.

You don’t even notice what he’s done until later—until you get home and open your app to find that your bio has been changed.

Taken. Mentally married to a nerd since birth.

You want to scream.

Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru?

Yeah. Not going great.

Not at all.

You weren’t sure why you agreed to it.

Maybe it was the look in Utahime’s eyes, so determined and hopeful. Maybe it was Shoko promising she would help you find true love. Maybe it was the quiet part of you that wanted to see yourself through someone else’s eyes. Someone who wasn’t Gojo Satoru.

“Today,” Utahime had declared, curling the last strand of your hair like she was threading a spell, “is the first day of your Gojo-less future”

You laughed nervously, tugging at the hem of your skirt. It wasn’t your usual style—not the dewy makeup you weren’t used to seeing in the mirror, not the new haircut that made your eyes look almost too bright, not the blouse that left your shoulders bare in a way that made you feel strangely noticed.

But when you caught your reflection, your heart fluttered. You looked beautiful.

When you stepped onto campus, the sun was out, the wind teasing your hair. You spotted him immediately—Gojo, slouched against the wall outside your lecture hall, nose buried in his Switch as he muttered something under his breath about evolving stats and attack modifiers.

He didn’t notice you at first.

Then he looked up.

His game froze mid-battle. His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again, like someone had unplugged his brain.

“Wha—” he said eloquently. “Wh—what did you do.”

You blinked. “Hi to you too.”

He stared, unabashed. His glasses were slightly crooked, his ears glowing scarlet. He looked like someone had just told him Digimon was real and living in your shoes.

He blinked. “You look like… like you skipped two evolution stages overnight. Straight to Mega. Like if Angewomon fused with… I don’t know, some kind of rare, limited-release goddess-type Digimon that only spawns on a lunar eclipse.”

You blinked.

Utahime’s voice in your head: You’re hot. Unstoppable. He’s going to be speechless.

And Gojo was. But not in the way you wanted.

You tried to laugh. “So I look like a cartoon?”

“A beautiful cartoon,” he said, serious now. “Like the kind of boss character they only show for two frames because animating her costs too much.”

Your heart stuttered. It was the sort of compliment only Gojo could give: clumsy and dorky, yet brilliant in its own way.

But the moment passed.

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, sunglasses slipping slightly as he muttered, “You just… you look different. That’s all.”

Different.

Not better. Not prettier.

Just different.

You swallowed. “Yeah, well. Thought I’d try something new.”

“I didn’t say it was bad,” he added quickly, but the words felt unsure. Flimsy.

“I should… use the restroom,” you mumbled, turning before he could say anything else.

In the bathroom, you stared at your reflection. Your lipstick looked too bold now. Your lashes too heavy. Despite the change, you were still painfully you— the you Gojo teased during study sessions, the one he let borrow his hoodie when it rained, the one who sat next to him during endless all-nighters. And maybe that was the problem. You weren’t like those girls on the magazines.

What you didn’t see, what you couldn’t see, was Gojo still standing outside the lecture hall, staring after you, Switch forgotten, game over screen blinking on the screen.

He didn’t even notice.

“You good, Satoru?” Shoko asked, walking by.

He blinked. “I think I just saw my best friend… and my final boss… and my future wife… all at once.”

Shoko snorted. “You’re a dork.”

Gojo just sighed, shoulders slumping as he muttered, “I’m so doomed.”

It’s a mild Friday evening when you meet him—Kazuya, the guy from your psychology class. He’s polite, articulate, and kind of cute. The kind of guy who asks if you prefer cats or dogs before ordering his drink, and actually listens when you answer.

Utahime and Shoko had insisted you say yes. “A change of pace,” they called it. “You need a baseline. Not every guy is going to be Gojo Satoru.”

Exactly. That was the point.

You’re sipping a matcha latte and nodding along as Kazuya explains his thesis on cognitive development when a very familiar voice cuts through the air.

“Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here.”

Your stomach drops. You look up, and sure enough—

Satoru.

In all his tall, obnoxiously eye-catching glory, wearing a white t-shirt that was inside out and a grin like he just won the lottery. He's holding a bottle of ramune and standing directly next to your table, like he’s been there the whole time.

You blink. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugs. “Thirsty. Wanted a drink.”

“At this café? On this side of campus?”

“Yeah,” he says, tone innocent. “Weird coincidence, huh?”

Kazuya offers a polite smile. “You’re her friend, right? Gojo?”

“Oh, best friend. Lifelong. Practically her shadow.” He plops into the empty seat beside you without asking, casually tossing his ramune onto the table. “What’s your name again? Kaname?”

“…Kazuya.”

“Right, right. I always mix those up. You look like a Kaname, though. Or maybe a Yusuke.”

You stare at him, incredulous. “Satoru—”

But he’s already leaning over, squinting at the book tucked under Kazuya’s arm. “Ooh, Piaget. Bold move. Love that for you.”

Kazuya blinks. “Do you… like developmental theory?”

“I like being correct,” Gojo says with a cheeky smile. “Also, [Name] hates Piaget. She called him ‘the Freud of toddlers’ last semester.”

Kazuya turns to you in mild surprise. “Really?”

“I—I mean, yeah,” you mumble. “Sort of.”

Gojo beams. “Told you.”

Kazuya makes a valiant effort to steer the conversation back to safe, neutral ground.

“So, you mentioned you're interested in behaviorism, right?” he says, offering a gentle smile. “I thought Dr. Takeda's lecture on conditioned responses was kind of fascinating—”

“Oh, riveting,” Satoru cuts in, lounging back in his chair like he owns the café. “Nothing like bonding over Pavlov’s dogs to spark romance. Did she tell you she cried during Inside Out because the depiction of core memories was ‘psychologically resonant’? Real charmer, this one.”

You shoot Satoru a look. “I was twelve!”

Kazuya blinks, trying not to smile. “I actually thought that was pretty moving, too.”

“Wow,” Satoru deadpans. “A match made in neuroscience.”

Kazuya laughs politely and continues, undeterred. “So, uh, any research plans after graduation?”

You open your mouth to answer, but Satoru beats you to it again.

“She used to want to be a vet. Cried when she had to dissect a frog in middle school. Tragic day.”

“Is that true?” Kazuya turns to you, amused now.

“Technically, yes,” you mutter into your drink.

By the time your cup is empty, you realize you’ve laughed more at Satoru’s interjections than you have at anything Kazuya’s said. Not because Kazuya wasn’t interesting—he was. He was calm, thoughtful, well-read, and clearly trying. But next to Satoru, whose entire presence seemed impossible to ignore, Kazuya didn’t stand a chance.

Still, to his credit, Kazuya maintains a steady, if slightly strained, expression as he sets down his cup and finally says, carefully,

“So… is Gojo your boyfriend?”

The question hangs awkwardly.

You and Satoru answer at the same time.

“No,” you say quickly.

“Yes,” he says with a smile.

You both turn to stare at each other.

“I mean—no,” he corrects, waving his hands. “Just a joke. Hah. Obviously.”

Kazuya blinks. “Right.”

You can’t meet either of their eyes. Your drink is finished, your palms are damp, and the café is suddenly too warm, too small. You push back your chair and stand.

“I should go. Early lab meeting tomorrow.” It’s the weakest excuse, but neither of them calls you on it.

Kazuya stands too, polite as ever. “Thanks for meeting up. You seem like a really cool person.” He hesitates, then adds, gently, “I just think maybe you’ve already got someone.”

You freeze. You open your mouth, then close it again. There’s nothing to say.

Outside, the cold air kisses your cheeks like a reminder. It stings a little, or maybe that’s just the confusion burning in your chest.

Satoru’s already waiting for you. Of course he is. He’s leaning against the lamppost, silver hair catching in the wind. But his eyes are downcast, trained on the sidewalk.

He doesn’t say anything right away. Neither do you.

You exhale, watching your breath curl white in the air. “You didn’t have to crash it, y’know.”

“I didn’t crash,” he replies without looking at you. “I was invited.”

“By who?”

“Fate. Karma. The gods of poor decision-making.” He shrugs.

You roll your eyes, but it tugs a laugh from you anyway. Stupid, annoying, charming Gojo.

“So,” he says after a beat, nudging your arm gently with his elbow, “how’d it go?”

You glance at him. He still won’t meet your gaze. His lips are pursed like he’s holding back a hundred words and none of them are funny.

“He was nice,” you admit. Despite being rudely interrupted by the white haired idiot beside you.

“Nice is boring,” he mutters, kicking at a loose stone on the pavement.

You laugh, soft and tired. “You’re the worst.”

He finally looks at you then, lips quirking into that smug, too-knowing smile. “But you like me anyway.”

You look away, cheeks burning, heart thudding like a traitor in your chest.

You don’t answer.

You don’t have to.

Despite Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru failing in every imaginable way, things were starting to feel bearable.

Almost good, even.

Satoru still hovered a little too close, always with that same half-smile like he knew something you didn’t. And maybe, just maybe— his constant sabotage, the teasing, the jealousy, the way he looked at you like he was about to say something important but never did. Maybe it all meant something.

You let yourself believe it, just a little.

And that was your first mistake.

It happens quietly, without fanfare or warning. Just a throwaway line between sips of lukewarm coffee and the soft shuffle of paper. You’re both at your usual spot in the library, surrounded by open notebooks and highlighted packets, pretending to study more than you actually are.

You’re halfway through underlining a term in your psychology notes when Satoru leans back in his chair, stretches like a cat, and says far too casually:

“So, guess who asked me out?”

You hum absentmindedly. “Who?”

“Ayane.”

The name hits you like a slap.

You freeze, highlighter paused mid-sentence. “…Ayane? From the biochem track?”

“Yeah,” he says, practically glowing. “You know her, right? She's in your study group sometimes.”

You do know her. Of course you do. Everyone knows her.

She’s beautiful, with this effortless, clean kind of elegance—long legs, perfect posture, and that quiet, poised confidence that makes professors adore her and guys fall over themselves. The kind of girl who posts one blurry bookshelf photo and still racks up a thousand likes. The kind of girl Gojo always jokes about marrying.

But he’s not joking now. He’s beaming.

“She asked me out to dinner this Friday. She’s so smart, too. I didn’t even have to pretend to know what quantum entanglement was. It’s wild.” He laughs, brushing a hand through his hair. “I thought she’d never go for a guy like me, y’know?”

You force a laugh. “A guy like you?”

“Yeah. I dunno. Too much, I guess? But she said I was ‘refreshing.’” He grins.

Your stomach sinks.

This is what you thought you wanted—for him to move on, so you could finally do the same. For Operation: Get Over Gojo Satoru to succeed, for real this time.

But now that it’s happening, it feels like someone’s slowly pulling your ribs apart.

“Oh,” you manage, smiling like you’ve practiced it. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

He doesn’t notice the way your voice cracks on happy. He just keeps talking, rambling about restaurant reservations and how she likes contemporary poetry and used to live in France. You nod in all the right places, but your thoughts are already slipping away.

Because it isn’t just that he’s going out with someone else.

It’s that he chose her.

Her with her flawless skin and quiet charm and the kind of beauty that doesn’t need to try. Her, with everything you’re not. And more than that, it’s that he made you believe you could have meant more to him, when really, he’d been searching for someone else all along.

You excuse yourself early, mumbling something about laundry.

He doesn’t follow.

You don’t cry until you’re halfway home, the cold air biting at your cheeks as your vision blurs.

For the first time in years, you don’t text him goodnight.

You don’t wait for a meme. Or a dumb joke. Or his usual, “Hey, genius. Sleep.”

You go silent.

And when he texts the next day, you don’t reply.

You skip your library meet-up. You don’t sit next to him in class. You even duck into the stairwell when you see his ridiculous white hair from across campus.

It’s not because you’re mad. It’s because you’re heartbroken.

And you can’t keep pretending it doesn’t matter—that he doesn’t matter.

You weren’t just losing your best friend.

You were losing the love of your life.

And he didn’t even notice.

It takes him three days to notice you’re gone.

Well—no. That’s a lie.

He notices immediately. The moment your usual seat in the library stays empty. When your laugh doesn’t echo in the café line. When your name doesn’t pop up on his screen at 2AM with some stupid meme captioned, “this reminded me of you, idiot.”

But he tells himself you’re busy.

Midterms, right? Stress. Coffee. You get like this sometimes, and he gets it. He really does.

So he waits. Tells himself not to be clingy.

But then Friday comes.

And he's sitting across from Ayane in some expensive, quiet restaurant where the napkins are folded like origami cranes and the water tastes filtered. She’s telling him about her research internship in Osaka, about enzymes and international grants, and all he can think is—

You’d be making fun of me right now.

You’d be kicking him under the table. Whispering some dumb pun about digimon. You’d be pulling faces every time he tried to pronounce the items on the menu. You’d be you.

Ayane is lovely.

But she doesn’t laugh when he says something stupid. She just smiles politely.

She doesn’t ask about why his glasses are always crooked (it’s so you could fix them). Doesn’t tease him for double-knotting his laces like a paranoid grandma. Doesn’t call him “Sato” like it’s some private joke only the two of you get.

He walks her home. Thanks her for a nice evening.

Then he goes to the convenience store. Alone.

And he sees your favorite snack on the shelf and buys two out of habit.

He stares at his phone the entire train ride back.

No new messages.

Just the last one you sent days ago:

“Laundry. Rain check?”

And nothing since.

He waits. Another day. Then two.

You don’t show up to class again.

You don’t like his latest meme.

You don’t comment on the Digimon pun he texted you out of desperation.

You are silent.

And Satoru Gojo—brilliant, blind-sighted, the golden boy of theoretical physics, always five steps ahead realizes, too late, that he’s been a fool.

That he didn’t just lose a study partner.

He lost the one person who knew him better than he knew himself.

The one person he couldn’t replace with rare Digimon pulls, half-solved physics equations, or overly sweet desserts.

And for the first time since he was a kid—

He’s afraid.

It’s been a little over a week.

A little over a week since Gojo Satoru has heard your voice. Since you shoved your coffee at him without asking, muttering “too sweet for me” when you really meant “I got this for you.” Since you poked fun at his stupid sock choices, or knocked your foot against his under the table like it was nothing.

And Satoru is suffering.

He's tried everything. Showed up to your house with excuses too weak to be called plans (“Hey, I brought your favorite snacks. I just... figured maybe you forgot you liked them?”). Waited outside your lecture hall until a security guard asked if he was lost. Took detours between classes hoping to catch a glimpse of your ponytail, your laugh, anything.

But you were always one step ahead.

You stopped answering his texts. Blocked him on that stupid dating app (which—ouch, even though you hadn’t used it seriously). You didn’t even show up to the library anymore. And even Shoko started looking at him with thinly veiled pity and a you really fumbled the bag look in her eyes.

Gojo Satoru is just tired.

Miserable.

So when he finally finds you—not because he’s chasing you down this time, but because he’s walking the long way home, and there you are, sitting on the old swings at the park where you first met—it knocks the wind out of him.

You don’t look surprised to see him. Just tired too.

“I figured you’d find me eventually,” you say quietly.

He swallows. His hands curl at his sides like he’s preparing for a fight.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “Why?”

You look away. “You’re smart. Figure it out.”

Gojo looks down at his feet.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Silence stretches between you, heavy and stinging. The playground is empty except for the wind dragging a soda can down the sidewalk and the faint creak of the swing chain.

Then he exhales, ragged and unsure. “Look, I can’t—I can’t take this anymore.”

You glance up.

“I can’t either.”

Hope flares too fast, too naive in his chest. His shoulders drop like he’s been holding up the world. “That’s good,” he breathes, stepping forward. “Because the silent treatment— God, I thought I was going to—”

“I don’t think we can be friends anymore.”

The words stop him cold.

“What?” he breathes.

You laugh, but it’s hollow. Like something already broken. “Don’t you get it? I can’t be friends with you and pretend that nothing’s changed. That I’m okay just being your best friend. I’ve been in love with you for years, Satoru.”

His heart stutters. You don’t stop.

“And I love myself too much to keep hurting for someone who doesn’t even look at me that way.” Your voice cracks, but you push through. “Do you know how humiliating it feels? To love someone so much it aches, and still feel like you’ll never be enough?”

He opens his mouth. Closes it.

You wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your jacket, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You never even thought I was cute.”

He looks like he’s been hit.

“I’ve been chasing scraps. Leftovers. Mixed signals and stupid inside jokes. I—I can’t do it anymore.”

You finally meet his eyes, and that’s when he sees it: the hurt you’ve been hiding behind every smile, every brush-off, every joke you cracked to keep the silence from swallowing you.

And for once, Gojo Satoru can’t find a single thing to say.

Not yet.

Not until he stops you from walking away.

“Where did you get an idea like that?” His cerulean eyes search yours desperately. “I-I don’t think you’re just cute, are you kidding?” he blurts, eyes wild.

“Y-you’re breathtaking! Everything I’ve dreamt of and more! That night when you asked me if I thought you were cute, I only said no because it would be a divine crime to reduce to such. All of my fantasies have been centered around you since we first met on that playground—since you tripped over your shoelaces trying to race me to the monkey bars!”

Your breath catches.

He continues, desperate now, like every second of silence might kill him.

“I love you! And not like a brother. Like—I want to marry you. Like, small wedding in Okinawa, barefoot on the beach, you wearing that soft blue dress you like. I already planned it. Our firstborn would be a daughter, with your eyes, my hair. She’d be the boss of the house.”

You gape.

“Wait—”

“I’m not done!” he says, hands thrown up. “Then we’d have twins. Boys. Chaos gremlins. One would look like my twin and the other yours, and they’d absolutely terrorize us—but their sister keeps them in check, she’s fierce like you.”

You blink. A tear slides down your cheek.

“I want to move to Kyoto,” he says, softer now. “Buy a house with a dumb little garden. Grow tomatoes we’ll never eat. Live out the rest of our lives where it’s quiet.”

You cover your mouth, stunned. “You… really thought all that out?”

“It’s easy,” he breathes, “when all I can think about is you.”

He steps closer. The wind tugs his white hair into his eyes, but he doesn’t blink.

“I go to study nonlinear quantum field theory and all I see is your face. I try to cool off and play Digimon, and even that’s ruined—my lineup is garbage now! I only keep the ones you said were cute!”

A laugh bubbles out of you, fragile and watery.

“You idiot,” you murmur.

“I am,” he nods solemnly. “I’m the world’s biggest idiot. And I’m in love with you.”

Another tear slips down. He wipes it away before you can.

“Is it too late?” he asks, voice cracking slightly. “Please tell me it’s not too late.”

You stare at him, this man, this brilliant, ridiculous boy who had held your heart long before you ever admitted it.

“It’s not too late,” you whisper.

He doesn’t speak. Just steps closer. Gently and carefully, like he's handling something sacred, he cups your cheek in his hand.

Your nose bumps his. His breath ghosts over your lips.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for years,” he whispers.

And then, finally, he kisses you.

It’s not perfect, your cheeks are still wet, his nose bumps yours again, and his hand trembles just a little, but it’s warm and sweet and soft. It tastes like home..

When he pulls away, his smile is sheepish. “So… are we still doing the whole ‘Operation: Get Over Gojo’ thing, or?”

You laugh, heart full, forehead pressed to his.

“Mission failed,” you whisper.

He grins. “Good.”

And then he kisses you again.

art by leimiruu on x!

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojou x reader #gojou x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk angst #gojo angst #gojo hurt/comfort #jjk hurt/comfort #nerdjo #jjk x you

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op1umeyes · 1 month ago

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Firefighter!Simon who meets you when your apartment goes up in flames, breaking down the crumbling excuse of a door to make sure that everyone had been evacuated from the building. Gaz was having a laugh about how someone ‘could sleep through that shit’ as Simon had to wake up this poor girl who just wanted to sleep after her stressful day. Firefighter!Simon who answers all your questions with a gruff tone, navigating through the burning building. On one hand, he’s glad you aren’t screaming and crying about the building but on the other hand he wasn’t used to people asking him questions. You ask him things like his favorite color, his favorite food, how many times he had punched people in the face, and about his opinion on everything under the sun. He was on his seventh ‘you need to stop talkin’, ma’am, yer wastin’ air’ when you started coughing.

When you got to the ambulance, Firefighter!Simon didn’t say no when you asked him to go with you to the hospital. Johnny raised an eyebrow at Simon as he maneauvered his hulking body onto the seat next to you. For some unknown reason, Firefighter!Simon didn’t want you- nosy and kind and pretty you- to be hacking up a lung by yourself in the presence of someone like Johnny. And when your breathing started slowing and you weren’t looking around with bright eyes, Simon let you slide your hand into his gloved one.

Firefighter!Simon who, miraculously, has the night off. He decides to stay in the hospital until you wake: thinking it would be the gentlemanly thing to do to make sure your friends or family were made aware of the devastating fire. But when you finally blink awake and Simon asks all his questions, he’s stumped when you hit him with a ‘I don’t have any family’. Simon can’t stop himself from blurting out ‘You c’n stay with me. If you want.’

It takes a full day for you to be cleared before Firefighter!Simon picks you up from the hospital to take you to his (more than) humble abode. He finds that you quickly find happiness in the kitchen, but are more than disappointed to see he has barely anything to cook or bake with. “A damn shame” you say. With the remaining daylight hours, Simon finds himself driving you to a little supermarket in the corner of the city he hadn’t had the time to be explore. You insist on buying everything, telling Simon (a man who you really knew nothing about) it was the least you could do since he saved you from homelessness. And dying.

The rest of your first day in your temporary home with Firefighter!Simon is spent cooking. You whip up a marvelous pasta dish with hearty meatballs that almost make drool seep from Simon’s lips. He sits at the island watching you move around his space like you’d been there millions of times, an unfamiliar feeling blooming in his gut similar to fondness. Since picking you up some new clothes, Simon had learned a little bit more about you than Simon thought healthy. It was unfortunate enough for him to have been unable to get laid in over three months, but it was even more unfortunate that he had such a pretty bird in his apartment making him food and insisting on being near him when he sure as hell couldn’t make a move on her.

Firefighter!Simon who gets comfortable in his routine with you. On the days he’s not at work at assfuck 0200, he’s up making a simple breakfast for you and him before rhe day starts. You’ll eat and concerse a little awkwardly but that wont stop you from asking all about how he slept and if his buddies wanted more of those monster cookies you’d made to thank them for saving you and your fellow tenants. Simon had to relay many praises of your work in the kitchen, only ommiting the details and sly jokes about how ‘Simon’s girl’ was already taking care of the family. You’d go to work by bus or train- depending on how you felt- and then come home and make dinner or reheat leftovers. If Simon was at work, you’d laze on the couch in the main room and watch television and read. If Simon wasn’t at work, you’d bring the softest blanket from the room Simon had placed you in and watch a movie. More often than not, you would scoot closer and closer to Simon before falling asleep against him. When you woke up, you were in your bed- undoubtedly carried by Simon. Oh well. Its what friends do.

Firefighter!Simon who sees you as a friend. It’s basing your third week in his home and he feel comfortable around you. You’re good at reading his silence- the set of his shoulders and the future of his brow say enough- and he can’t be more thankful of that. For someone so new to his life, you seem to know exactly when to let a comfortable silence fall between you and when to start chattering about them things that come to your mind. But when you are the silent, short-tempered, and fatigued one, Simon is more than scared to get in your way. “Needa talk?” He offers, sliding you a cup of steaming coffee when you level a glare at the mug that had irritated you at such an inconveniently early hour. You heave a sigh and your head crumbles down into your arms. “I’m a mess, Si,” you tell him. Though your voice is muffled, Simon hears the shakiness in your throat trying to escape. He rounds the corner of island and places a large palm on your back in his attempt to comfort you. You are wrapping your arms around his neck and buring your face into the frail fabric of Simon’s shirt before he even knows what’s happening. And- as avoidant as Simon is to physical touch that doesn’t occur during work hours or when you fall asleep on him or when you slid your hand in his gloved hand during The Ambulance Ride- Simon didn’t mind your arms and warmth around him. When you started shaking in his arms was when Simon had to clench his jaw. It pained him that it pained you- and he didn’t even know what was ailing you! Simon tried to soothe himself with the knowledge that he was giving you the best comfort he could offer.

A day later you wake up to a crime scene in your underwear in the middle of the night so you decide to take a midnight trip to the convenience store a literal block away without letting Firefighter!Simon know. I mean, hey, he needs sleep and you were not going to wake him up to let him know you would be gone for a total of five minutes! But when you were on your way back to his house, you noticed someone following you. As you turned right for the third consecutive block, you finally fumbled for your phone.

Hearing you say ‘hey baby’ at 0146 had Firefighter!Simon’s head spinning. He was a little dazed because of the abrupt awakening but your casual greeting was wnough to jolt him awake. “Y/n? Whadda ya- what-?” He couldn’t finish his question before you interrupt him. “Hey do you think you could pick me up? I think I got a little lost.” Simon shoots out of bed, hitting the speaker button as he goes to slip a shirt on. “Where are you? Do I need a knife? Are you okay, dove?” He slips his shoes on and is out of the door faster than he is when he gets a work call. “Yeah, I’d bring the knife, babe,” you answer on the other line, more than loud enough for the man who is following you to hear. “I’m about four blocks away, by the Casey’s. You have my location.” Simon peels out of his driveway and immediately clicks on your profile to find the map with your smiling face. “Talk to me, y/n. I’m almost there.” Your breath is shaking on the other end and Simon doesn’t want you to be scared. “I think I could go for some Italian, Simon,” you say truthfully. “A minute away” Simon tells you, tires squealing as he turns down the streets you were hightailing down. Simon steps out of the truck after shifting it to park and the guy scatters. You’re running into Simon’s open arms before he could take a third step toward you. “I’m sorry,” you murmur “I kinda… started my period and didn’t want to wake you but then-“ Simon just shushes you, running a large hand down your back. “Let’s go home, love.” Simon scooped you up easily, tucking the obnoxiously loud crinkling plastic bag into your lap as he easily carried you to the passenger seat. Home. Yeah, Simon and his place had become your home.

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peachesofteal · 3 months ago

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Raspberry Girl Previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: 18+ intoxication, sexual content, daddy kink, caretaking, blurry lines of consent.

You’re painfully unaware, though to you, he’s sure it's bliss.

In your own little world, you stand at the long wooden table, fingers moving across the trackpad of a laptop, a pair of too big glasses sliding down your nose. The left lens is smudged, the smear only getting worse every time you push them up with the back of your hand. There’s a whirlwind of stuff around you, bowls and bags and measuring cups, cracked egg shells and sprinkles scattered across the wood, multi colored icing separated into different containers, and you're so into your work you don't even realize he's in the doorway.

He almost feels bad for scaring you when he clears his throat. Almost.

“Oh my god,” you whirl, hand pressed to your chest, half ready to bolt. “S-sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t know you were there.”

Is that anyway to say hi to your daddy sweetheart?

“Good morning.” He eyes the twenty four ounce mason jar to your left. It’s one quarter full, coffee and cream swirling to the bottom. Too much caffeine.

“Good morning, hi.” You smile, sweet and shy but more emboldened. It’s been a few days since he fed you bites of lemon meringue pie, a few days since he went home and stroked his cock to the memory of your mouth parting for him, eyes half lidded looking up through your lashes.

Since then, you’ve a bit more brave, encouraged by his careful coaxing, text messages at night and throughout the day to check in, visits in the morning as he heads to base.

He’s leading his little lamb right into her shepherd’s arms.

“What’re you working on?”

“Funfetti birthday cake.” You slide your glasses back up your face. They’re a mess and he can’t resist fixing it, pulling them off, wiping the lenses with bottom of his shirt. You freeze. Little deer in his headlights.

“Didn’t know you wore glasses.” He places them back where they belong, righting them when they slip, and confirming what he already knew. They’re too big. You need new ones.

“Th-thank you. I do for reading. And… er, screens. Reading on screens, mostly, though I need them for books too so I guess just… reading in general.” He understands the pause now, the moments when you’ve become self conscious, embarrassed, or you’re looking for the words you need, anxiously trying to piece it all together, step into a skin that doesn't quite fit.

A rhythm the world doesn't understand. Too cruel, impatient, cold, it has no care for fragile things, too easily reflecting a mirror of his former self.

He files the bit about you needing to wear glasses when you read, another notation in the long list he’s already memorized, organized, and moves onto his next inquiry. “Who’s the birthday cake for?”

“Mara. It’s her birthday. They’re…” you make a face like you’ve sniffed spoiled milk, “we’re going out to a pub to celebrate.” He stiffens. On one hand, he’s proud of you. On the other, the idea of you in a pub raises the hair on the back of his neck, has him a bit out of his mind.

He’s not interested in clipping your wings, but going out to a pub with no one to watch over you? Not bloody likely. “Tonight?”

“Mhm.” You’re rubbing a stick of butter in a round pan. “Funfetti is the classic birthday cake. You know, the vanilla cake with the sprinkles?” He shakes his head. “Oh. Well, um, it is. It's mostly a kid thing now, but I think it's the ultimate birthday cake. Birthdays are supposed to be fun but you know... they kind of suck when you're an adult. Anyway... funfetti is fun so, that's why...”

“Maybe you can save me a slice. Where are you going?”

“Save you…" your brows crease as you try to process what he's said. "Doc’s.” You’ve dropped the stick of butter abruptly, greasy fingers gripping the edge of the pan. Doc’s. It’s a younger crowd, a bit posh, but still a bit dark. Has a bit of an edge.

It’s been a few weeks since he’s gotten a pint with Kyle and Johnny anyway.

He smiles, strokes the backs of his knuckles down your cheek, satisfied when you lean in for more, disappointed the few minutes he had to drop in are now over. “I’ve gotta go baby, be good for me.” Your mouth drops open so wide he thinks he might be able to fit his cock in it.

“Oh, okay. I- I will.”

What did you forget?

Daddy. I will, daddy.

“That ‘er?” Kyle motions with his beer bottle towards the table where you stand nervously at the edge, floral flecked dress swaying just above your knees. You've looped a white ribbon through your hair, the beacon of a gentle soul that seems to be calling out to every muppet in the building, every wandering eye fueling a fire burning in his blood.

“Yeah.” His stomach is sour. Even a neat pour of whiskey and pint didn’t settle him.

You’re trying so hard. Smiling and nodding and listening to everyone, clutching your drink like it’s a lifeline. Mara seems to understand the grace you need, but no one else in the group gets it, and some of them give you weird looks, or worse, look at each other when you’re not paying attention in annoyance. Your only friend at the table catches a few of them and shoots stern glares as she shakes her head, but it doesn’t change much.

“She looks uncomfortable,” Johnny grunts, his scrupulous eye never missing a thing. Someone asks you a question, and you stumble over your answer, looking away to the wall when a girl to your left blatantly smirks, and then sneers directly in your face. Simon’s blood boils.

“She’s different from them, it’s hard for her.” It's the easiest way to explain it. You’re one in a million. His one in a million.

The table laughs at something, and you frantically flick over each person’s face, trying to pick up on a joke you clearly did not understand. Eventually, you just settle for another smile, resigned to watch it all from the outside as conversation flows from person to person, but never towards you.

Sweet girl. He wants to take you home where you’re safe and happy and carefree, where you can be yourself and not have to worry about trying to keep up or facing everyone’s judgement. Where he can hold your perfect and precious heart in his hand and protect it. Where he can fuck the memory of this night right out of you, bounce you on his cock until the only thing you know how to do is come for him, over and over again.

He misses the exact moment the cake appears among the stacks of shot glasses. Your anxiety ramps up as everyone starts to eat their slices, shoulders high beneath your ears, fingers knotted together too tight. It’s an eternity before the first person looks at you, mouth half full and thrilled, their enthusiasm alleviating some of the weight that's been sitting on his chest, and yours. Whatever they say seems to lessen the weight because you’re smiling again, excited, and as more people turn your way, the smile turns to a full on beam, your words from the other night echoing in his ears.

I like feeding people.

Another hour passes before he decides to call it, the group now spread across the pub, scattered around different tables, at the bar, outside smoking. You’re in a corner with your back to the room talking to Mara, and when he appears in her line of sight, she spots him immediately, grabbing your arm, mouthing something he doesn’t catch.

You turn-

And light up like a fucking Christmas tree.

“Captain Riley!” The alcohol has made you bold, slow synapses firing less rapidly, providing a longer lead time, somewhat preventing you from second guessing or withholding yourself.

“Hi baby.”

“I’m just gonna…” Mara tries to move away but you reach for her.

“Happy Birthday Mar. Thanks for inviting,” you hiccup, “me.” She gives you a squeeze.

“Thanks for coming, and for the cake, it was amazing. Made me feel like I was kid, ya know? When birthdays really mattered.” Sadness flickers in her eyes, and then disappears in a glaze of intoxication. “Anyway, see you Monday?”

“Yep.” She gives you one more hug before slipping away, and you sigh.

“She loved her cake.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You’ve got this dreamy look on your face, sleepy and sweet, a little kitten who’s ready to curl up for a nap.

Cast a line. See if you’re biting.

“How’re you gettin’ home?”

“An uber?” You lick your lips. “Or… uh. A Lyft?” You lurch to the side and he darts forward to steady you, movement too fast for you to track, all of it ending up as a surprise, like you weren’t even in your body for a moment. “Th-thanks.” You study his hand, where it sits on your arm. “You know you’re so big?” His lips twitch to the side of his mouth.

“Yeah sweetheart. I’m big.” You’re still staring at his hand. “D’you need a ride home?”

“Huh?” He's held this in the back of his mind all night as a possibility, built a tentative plan for this opportunity too golden to pass up. No fucking way are you going home in a rideshare or with anyone else.

“I’m taking you home.” You shrug at the declaration with little trepidation and take his hand.

So sweet and full of trust.

He never specified which home.

When the gravel of his driveway crunches under the truck’s tires, you don’t stir, and you don’t wake up when he turns it off or opens the passenger side door, your head lolling against your shoulder.

“Sweetheart,” He keeps his voice low, reaching across your lap to unbuckle your seatbelt, brushing against your breasts, soft exhales puffing little clouds across his skin. “We’re here.”

“Hmm?” you crack an eye open and then shake your head, “no ‘m sleeping.” Your cheek is warm in his palm, and he kisses it, trying to rouse you, gauge your reaction. Your awareness. Your nose wrinkles. “Stop.”

“C’mon, you'll be more comfortable inside.” You whimper when he jostles you, pinning a palm to your temple.

“My head hurts.” Poor baby.

“I know,” he pulls you up out of the seat and into his chest, carefully supporting your balance. He’s taking liberties now, wrapping an arm around your waist, curling his fingers along the nape of your neck, brushing his lips across your forehead when you whine, high pitched and crackled, broken under the weight of too much alcohol and need for more sleep. “I know baby, Let’s get you into bed.” You lay your cheek on his chest and sigh.

“Okay.”

“Spit.” He holds the cup under your lips and you do as he asks diligently, bubbly white toothpaste getting caught on the corner of your mouth.

Getting you upstairs and into his room went just as he anticipated. A little anxiety, a little uncertainty, all of it gently soothed until you were sitting on his bed and he was taking off your shoes, reassuring you, promising everything was okay and you were right where you belonged.

“You’re safe with me sweetheart. I’m going to take care of you.”

Now, you’re perched on the closed toilet lid in his bathroom as he finishes brushing your teeth, sleepy and serene, naked thighs peeking out from beneath the hem of his t-shirt.

You’re completely unguarded, vulnerable, another layer peeled back, another piece he lays claim to.

His sweet little fawn.

He knew all along this was underneath the weight you carried. That when you finally felt safe and cherished and cared for, you’d bloom, be yourself without the pressure of everything else. Deep down, beneath the expectations of how everyone thinks you should talk, or act, or behave, behind all the coping mechanisms you’ve taught yourself, buried under mountains of complexity, is his precious little girl who needs her hand held and her tears wiped. Who’s brilliant and beautiful and different, and has never had the space to just be.

Now, you'll be able to do just that while he takes care of the rest. He'll decide. You’ll have boundaries. You’ll have rules. You’ll have daddy and he’ll take away the endless pressure that closes in on you from all sides, he'll ensure you get what you need. There will be less worry, less fear and unlimited opportunities to be.

“My face.” You tilt your chin back with your eyes closed, and he chuckles.

“What about it?”

“My,” hiccup, “makeup.” He turns the tap on warm, testing the temp until he’s satisfied, and soaks a washcloth.

“Keep your eyes closed.” You sit still as he works, dabbing away everything on your eyelids and lashes, wiping underneath to catch anything he missed. “There we go.” You sway in his grip and slur.

“Bed now?”

“Last thing.” There’s a glass of water and naproxen on the counter, and you swallow them without question. He hides his grimace. That will need to be addressed in the morning. When you try to put the glass back on the counter, he shakes his head. “All of it,” you manage to get the rest of the water down, and he squeezes your hip. “That’s my girl.”

“You’re warm.” Your arm is slung over his middle, a cold foot tucked between his knees, mouth half open on his pillow. Completely uninhibited, nearly asleep.

His cock is hard against his stomach beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, aching with a fullness he can’t relieve. He’s been hard since he undressed you, peeled your bra off and held you to his chest as he unhooked it, felt your perfect, pretty breasts and nipples against him as he tugged his shirt over your head. You were bashful, buried your face into his neck with a trembling giggle, but refused to let go, sunk your fingernails into his biceps as your hands shook. His sweet, shy girl.

He rubs your back, works his fingers in the knots between your shoulders, watching your lashes flutter as you try to fight sleep.

“Tomorrow…” There’s a last minute flash of uncertainty, and he presses his lips to your forehead.

“It’s okay, we’ll talk at breakfast sweetheart. It’s time for bed.” Tomorrow. You'll be fighting a battle tomorrow, a hangover, anxiety, an endless spiral of confusion and doubt, but he'll be here to guide you through it.

The only way out is through.

It will be a lot easier on both of you if you're able to get some sleep.

“Yeah, ’s past my bedtime.” You whisper with a hazy, playful smile on the wisp of a giggle. "We should have pancakes for breakfast." Your easy, peaceful state encourages him to go a step further. Cast a line, see if you’re biting.

"If you close your eyes and go to sleep, Daddy will make you pancakes in the morning." You nod with a yawn, tucking your face between the pillow and his shoulder.

"Mmkay then. Night." It's not a protest, it's not a flinch, it's not a moment of disgust, and satisfaction roars, rips through him like bullet, this instinct and desire long honed finally settling in the place where it belongs. In you.

"Goodnight baby." He stares at the ceiling as you disappear into dreams and plans his mission. Plots his checkpoints, sets his objectives. Lead, decide, control.

Bring you home. Permanently.

#peaches writes #raspberry girl fic #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader

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oreo-creampies · 4 months ago

Text

𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: true form!sukuna, monster fucking with alpha!sukuna, A/B/O (meaning alpha, mega, and beta) no alpha and mega title used, daddy/mama, praise/teasing/mocking/praising degradation, biting, knotting, werewolf venom makes their mate go into heat to keep up like in the fic mine with werewolf toji, fucking on fur bedding, you said clan and for some reason my brain went wood bedframes and fur blankets no technology, we get candles for light, they have fangs venom and claws with sukuna have his true form extraness, double pentration, overstimulation, dacryphilia, biting, blood, pain kink, light size kink, toji is praising you while fucking you like he hates you, choking, full nelson, sukuna calls you pet twice, mind break, cream pie, fucking their cum into you. belly bulge from the amount of cum, forced orgasm, squirting

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: Requesting for clan leader! Gojo 😔🙏 gotta have that breeding kink in their somewhere!! Mans whole clan is asking for an heir right after you get married. In my mind Geto is still alive and kicking and has his own family. Gojo gets a terrible case of FOMO and ends up wanting a whole litter of kids for himself. goin at it like rabbits for DAYS.

Oreo: not this being in the drafts since September! im sorry anon! This was also giving me werewolf vibes with the word clan so one think lead to another. it gave me the chance to write the reader belly bulging with sukuna's cum so im excited about that

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

Slapping your sloppy cunt, stuffing his thick warm cum in with two fingers he bit the claws off on. Whining, twisting your hips away. Smirking down at you, crooning “Where ya going mama thought you wanted to make me a daddy?” Pulling you into place by your hips.

You want Satoru’s fingers, cock, tongue, and cum filling you up. “I do wanna make you a daddy but you're too much. Can't keep cumming, but I wanna at the same time." Hooking your leg around his waist pulling him in.

His eyes momentarily widen. Ordering in a needy plead, “Call me daddy again mama.” Sliding your hand over his broad shoulders, down his thick pecs and abs. Over countless thin and thick scars ranging from pink to white in color.

“Daddy please lemme feel you!” Sliding your hand down his hard abs, biting you lip when he purposefully flexes. Grabbing your thighs pinning you in a firm mating press. Following the short wispy whine happy trail down to his beautiful long cock.

Lining his pale cock head up with your soft lip. Stroking yourself with his cock, circling your soft clit. He's so warm, soft yet hard. His breathy moan gets you off. “But you are feeling me, what more can my mama need?” Dipping his head, sinking his sharp fangs into your tit.

Moaning, he's intoxicating, sweet, warm, and pleasurable like having him massaging your sweet spot with his fingers. Your body is getting hotter. Thick slick drips down, your cunt aching with an insatiable need for Satoru.

Flicking your soft nipple with his warm tongue. Sucking, sinking his fangs in deeper when you cry. Shifting your hips trying to slip him in, whining when Satoru pulls back. Whipping the blood from his lips with his thumb.

"What does my mama need?" Nudging your sensitive cunt with his cock, spreading his hand on your stomach pinning you still. Gliding his cock up your clit refusing to touch your clit.

Admiring how your cunt split to take his pale pink cock head. Pleading with him, "Please give me more than the tip! I need you to knot me, keep your cum deep inside my sensitive cunt, please!" Slowly giving you his head head, letting the soft ridge vanish before gliding out. Lightly tugging on your cunt.

"You sure you need more than just the tip?" Nudging in his head, leaving it there, pressing down harder when you squirm. "You said I'm too much mama, you sure ya need me to knot n’ cum in ya?"

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

"Fuckin finally I can stuff ya full of cum again." Bending you over on the soft pile of blankets. Pulling your ass in the air, squeezing when you wiggle, piercing your skin with his sharp claws. Blood trickles down trickles down your hip. Thick cum drips down your thighs.

The pain is sweet mixing with mind-numbing pleasure. It's impossible to think, you can barely process Toji grunting, “I've been wanting to breed your sweet tight cunt for months. Ya gonna be so beautiful with your tits and belly swelling mama." Gliding his softening knot out tugging on your tight cunt, his cock is harder than before.

Despite stuffing your cunt full of cum three times. Toji is getting hornier, fucking your limp body harder. Testing your limits seeing how much you can take before you break.

Stepping on your head, roughly fucking his thick cock into you. Trembling, your sensitive cunt is gushing on his cock. How can still cum after the fifth you couldn't think to count.

The thick blankets muffle your moans, “Such a messy lil cunt she’s a beautiful lil super soaker. Gonna make you cream on my cock till my knot won’t swell up anymore.” You would be convinced he hates you with the merciless way he's fucking his fat veiny cock into you. If not for Toji's words and the fresh bite on your neck.

Bent over, back arched, legs spread with your cunt stuff his heavy balls slap your clit. His swelling knot catching on your tight sensitive cunt. "Fuck mama squeeze my fat cock with your tight sloppy wet cunt. Nnn I've always thought about how hot of a milf you'd make."

Slapping your ass, squeezing your cheek. Fucking you harder, the fur blanket muffling your cries. "Your beautiful little cunt is always so tight when you're in heat." Moving his foot, your body lurches forward from the strength of thrusts. "Fuck you're so damn perfect mama takin' my cock like a slut." Grabbing your hair, yanking your back.

Your back hits his hard chest. Wrapping his hand around your neck, standing up, your legs dangle, held by your hair, neck, and his thick cock balls deep in you. "Please Daddy please daddy please!" Squeezing his thick veiny cock, he's filling you up perfectly, stroking your sweet spot.

"Since that's all my stupid little whore can moan, you don't need to breathe right? I can fuck your cunt into a gapping broken cum stuffed mess with my hands crushing your neck, right?" Grabbing your thighs, propping your calf over his thick forearm. Pinning you to his chest in a full nelson.

Squeezing your throat, groaning, "Ya gonna be a beautiful mama, gonna suck on your tits when they drip milk. Make sure they don't get too full like your pussy is 'bout to be." His swelling knot tugs on your soaking wet cunt.

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

Gliding his thick, veiny tattooed cocks out. "It's starting to trickle out the sides." Pushing on your bulging stomach, thick cum gushing from your sore, gaping cunt. Sukuna croons, "Don't pass out on me yet pet I'm having fun playing with you." His stomach's tongue relentlessly stroking your sensitive clit. Keeping you in an intoxicating mind numb pleasurable high, boarding on almost painful.

Lining his cock up, rolling his hips, arching your back, twisting your hips away from his slow deep thrusts. "Please don't stop!" Tears roll down your cheek when he pulls your hips back into place. Lifting you off the bed, slamming you down on his thick cocks.

The tip of his sharp claws digging into your skin shouldn't feel so good.

Taunting you, "Poor little pet can't even handle me n' you're cryin' for more! Keep fighting to stay awake mama. I need ya to keep taking my cocks till they get soft." Using your hips to guide your hot tight, squelching cunt on his thick cocks. Your cunt clenches, it feels too good to be senselessly fucked into a mindless mess by Sukuna.

Biting your side and breast, your body jolts, and your cunt clenches. It's too much venom at once, forcing your sensitive cunt to squirt on his cocks. "Fuckin' messy slut soaking the whole damn bed." Gliding his hand up your side, cupping your breast biting down.

Giving that intense high of squirting, yet your cunt can only spasm, getting tighter. Your body shaking, toes curling eyes rolling back. "If you do pass out mama, I could fuck my cum into your soft beautiful cunt when you're sleeping." Smirking grabbing your neck lifting you up right.

Looking up from Sukuna's thick pecs into his beautiful face. Dark crimson eyes glowing from his rut. "It would be a pity if I couldn't see you I love seeing you cryin'. But I wonder if your sweet little cunt will grip my cocks the same." Grabbing his arm and digging your short sharp claws in.

Sukuna leans his head back groaning. "Ya feel so fuckin' good mama, seein’ ya fighting to keep going this long is makin' is exciting. I might not be able to stop until your body gives out." His massive body trembles, your soft, soakign wet tight hot cunt squeezing and squelching on his fat cocks getting him off.

Fucking you faster on his cock. Flexing his arms when you pierce his skin. Thin rivulets of blood tricking down his biceps. Sukuna hunches over to roughly kiss you slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You're utterly helpless to do anything but happily take Sukuna's thick cocks. It's perfect you don't need to think or move. Only get fucked till you can't handle anymore.

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