#Jjk drabble

[hiraethwrote]

Imagine trying to escape an annoying ex who just will not leave you alone. And one day, around lunchtime, you’re so unlucky as to run into them in a cafe. They start badgering you about grabbing a bite together when you just blurt out “I’m actually here on a date!”

They instantly start grimacing and asking all sorts of questions about who this might be, causing you to panic. “Aah, there he is!” You desperately grab the arm of the next person to enter the cafe, hoping they’re able to read the situation and then have the decency to play along.

That random individual is no other than Satoru, who looks absolutely baffled by the abrupt encounter. His eyes darts between your ex and you, pleading with your eyes to help you out.

It takes him less than a second to make up his mind, slinging his arm over your shoulders and flashing your ex a smug grin — and then he commits wholeheartedly to the bit. He starts lying through his teeth about how much he enjoyed your last date, that he just picked up that book you recommended and he thought you might want to go to a botanical garden for your next meeting.

Eventually, your ex has had enough of the sight and leaves the cafe — you exhale deeply and relief washes over you. And once you begin to thank the stranger, he notices just how pretty you are. Kind eyes, a warm little smile that lingered after having laughed along to his performance, and a frame that simply seems to fit next to him.

The little unexpected interaction has caused you to run late. Rushing out a million little thank you’s, before pulling out your wallet. You pay for what you came for, then hand him some cash, “I’d love to pay for your lunch but I have to run. So just, take this, thank you again!” You chuckle lightly before quickly backing out of the cafe.

In your hurried haze, Satoru barely gets a word in. What really bothers him, is how he never managed to get your name before you’re out of there, and from that moment you’re stuck on his mind.

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[reignpage]

❀ In which you and your husband compete to be your baby's first word

“Say ‘ma-ma.’” 

Your baby makes some noise. It’s an adorable babble that induces cuteness aggression in the form of you biting her chubby cheeks and listening to her giggle, but it’s not the exact sound you want. Still, she’s a clever girl so you know she’ll pull through sooner than later. 

“Playing dirty, sweetheart?”

Kento walks into the nursery, laying his folded suit jacket over the armrest of the chair in the corner, where he sits down with a relieved sigh. He loosens his tie and gives you a tired smile, two long fingers beckoning you over. Baby in your arms, you nestle in his lap, immediately engulfed in his scent and warmth. He playfully nibbles on the fingers the baby shoves in his mouth, her own way of welcoming him back, you suppose. 

Fresh from a long day at work, you don’t bother asking why he didn’t change into his home clothes immediately after coming back or why he’s not taking a much needed nap – your husband has asserted multiple times now that his favourite way of recharging is with you and his little girl. Home is wherever you two are, he says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, trying to distract the observant man by handing the baby over to him. 

Humming as he presses a kiss to her forehead, Kento muses, “So, my gorgeous wife, who loves nothing more than coming out victorious in every competition she creates, has been behaving the entire day, withholding any and all attempts to make our darling daughter’s first word be ‘mama?’ Somehow, I find that hard to believe.” 

You plead the fifth and the guilty grin you give him is all the answer he needs.

“Hi, my sweet girl,” your husband coos, eyes sparkling with adoration behind his thin-frame glasses. “Did you miss dada? Dada missed you, oh, yes, he did.”

“Hey! Now you’re playing dirty.”

“On the contrary, my love, I’m simply catching up.” His smile widens at the fairy-light sounds of pure joy that he elicits from his baby girl with his nose kisses. “Dada would never resort to cheating, would he? No, not like your mother. Can you say, ‘mother?’ No? Oh, dear.”

That earns him a slap on his chest. “You are so annoying, Ken. I carried her for nine months, it’s my right to be her first word. I deserve it.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I understand, but our little love doesn’t. All that matters to her is that ‘dada’ is much, much easier to say than ‘mother.’” The 'little love' in question steals her father's glasses and waves it around with her balled-up fist. Knowing that a baby's grip is second to none, he doesn't put up a fight.

She's definitely your daughter.

“Uhuh, Kento. Keep plying her with complicated words to make ‘dada’ sound easier all you want but my girl knows her roots. She’ll come through for me." Shuffling off, you give them each a kiss on the head. "Alright, alright. I have to get started on dinner — you two have fun. Hear that, angel? Mama is going. Ma-ma is making food for your sperm donor. Can you say, ‘male parental figure?’ No? What a shame.”

They share a laugh: one appreciating your quip and the other, just happy to be there.

An hour or so later, dinner’s ready and waiting on the dining table. You don’t shout, not anymore; one never knows when the baby’s asleep and when she'll next sleep so every drop of quiet is gold in the Nanami household. 

Quietly then, you creep down the hallway and peek your head through the gap in the door. The twinkling of a music box plays in the background. 

Remaining where you left them, Kento rocks his daughter in his arms, running a finger from her forehead down to her nose bridge, tickling her delicate skin, a trick that never fails to make her smile. 

Your husband talks in a gentle, tender conspiratorial tone and your eyes narrow in suspicion — the man hides behind an air of maturity and wisdom, obscuring his penchant for competition, but he can’t fool you. “Come on, sweetpea, make dada proud. Just like we’ve been practising, hmm? Say it with Papa Ken.”

Who’s playing dirty now? 

Just about to scold him for his underhanded actions, hypocrisy and double standards be damned, his next words stop you in your tracks.

“Say ‘mama.’ Can you say, ‘ma-ma?’ Don’t you want to make mama happy? I know I do.” She only blows bubbles in response, tiny hands tugging at his tie now so she can gnaw at it, glasses returned to the rightful owner. “No? Tired from a whole day of being daddy’s perfect angel, are you? Alright, we’ll try again later. Come on, let’s go help mama. She gets grumpy when the food doesn’t cook fast enough.”

The last sentence was unnecessary but you appreciate the sentiment, nonetheless.

Especially grateful for his never ending efforts to make you happy, dinner's spent with you giving your husband a gummy grin and he, in return, eyes you in suspicion, all while your little girl entertains herself with her foot in her mouth.

At night, baby asleep and tucked away in her room, you push him down on the bed, practically ripping his clothes off. Dazed, confused, but very pleased with the evening's turn of events, Kento rarely ever has any choice but to let you have your way with him.

And beyond content in a way he never knew he could be, in a way he didn't know he'd ever deserve, Kento doesn't realise he's smiling beneath you until you thumb at his lips, a soft look in your twinkling eyes.

"Let's have another baby, Ken."

Softly, he mutters, “Whatever you want, dear.”

[tojilicious]

cw: mating press, p in v, toji calls you doll, grinding, gspot stim, edging. MDNI!

you made a very stupid mistake; and that was underestimating toji fushiguro. to be more specific.. toji fushiguro's ability in bed.

and you'd learn just how big your mistake was because now you're in his bed with your shaking knees being pushed back and up to your chest by his large and rough hands. toji has you in the meanest mating press, his hips drawing back before pushing forward, serving to thrust his meaty cock deeper into your cunt that clings onto him like a snug vice.

"ya still fuckin- shit. ya still underestimating me, doll?" he's roughly grunting through bared teeth, brows furrowed downwards in concentration as he fucks you like it's the last time he'll ever get his dick wet.

he's unable to get a response from you as you're too far gone, only giving him little 'uh's' and 'oh's' as he ravages you. every rough thrust of his has your breasts jiggling and every delicious graze of his cockhead touching your sweetest spots has your jaw growing slacker.

it feels so good that you're almost positive it can't get any better. it truly feels like your pleasure is at it's threshold and all you can do is stare at him with a fucked out expression on your face as he rips out every little noise you have to offer him.

his hands grab yours, replacing the grip he had on your knees with your own now. in a swift movement, the plump cheeks of your ass are suddenly getting groped before your hips are lifted upwards and you can't do anything but cry as the new position has his cock plunging right against your g-spot.

"toji!" the stimulation makes you choke out a sob and your fingers are digging into your knees as he takes this new opportunity to abuse that spongey spot inside of you.

gosh, your lower tummy doesn't feel warm. it feels hot and your thighs are starting to quake and tremble as every thrust and graze has you wobbling closer and closer to toppling off the edge and into something so blissful.

the spazzes and squeezes of your clinging pussy don't go unnoticed by toji. the scarred corner of his lip pulls into a smirk and a thin brow raises, he knows you're close. he can almost taste it.

"yeah?" he has a shit eating grin now. "feelin' good?"

it takes all the willpower for you to muster up the strength to nod your head, whining out a pathetic 'uh-huh' as he just chuckles at you.

"yeah, i can tell." he grunts, letting out a heavy exhale as he continues to fuck into you. "squeezin' my dick so tight n' shit."

his thrusts grow meaner and you're on the edge now, pussy clinging onto his dick for dear life.

"tojiiiii-" you're prolonging a whine of his name, wiggling and squirming your hips that stay firmly gripped by him. "gonna- hah. gonna cum, toji." your warning is croaked out as your eyes screw shut, so fucking ready to let go and cum. more than ready to let this orgasm not just wash over you, but crash over you and pull you away in the rough tides of pleasure.

then toji draws his hips back until his cock escapes the grip of your cunt, leaving you empty. your eyes pop open, daggers immediately being glared right at him as your built up orgasm withers away.

"what the fuck?" is all you can say before his hand leaves your hip to grip the base of his cock, dropping his thick length right onto your sopping slit before he moves his hips, grinding against you.

"what?" he chortles and the head of his cock deliciously grinds against your clit. "you underestimated me, doll—so i'm gonna make sure you never doubt me again."

oh. you were definitely in for a long night.

[classyrbf]

thinking about fucking professor!nanami who you met at a bar, celebrating your last day of summer before college classes begin again. With his blonde hair, chiseled cheekbones and those muscles popping out from his dress shirt may have made you a little nervous, but with a few shots of liquor in your system you gained liquid courage. His perfect smile and smooth voice only drew you in more, and god how his thighs looked in those khakis made your imagination run wild. The conversation ran smooth, he told you he was a professor, which led you to realize he was older than you may have believed, but that didn’t stop you. Honestly, it seemed exciting being with an older man considering you’ve been told many times that they’re great in bed.

So with a few drinks in your system and hours of flirting back and forth, you both end up in his car, in the back of some random building. Your dress is hiked up, and his hands are gripping your ass, guiding your hips up and down his cock. The aroma of sex and sweat lingers in the air, your bodies pressed close together as he thrusts up into you. The tip of his cock grazes against your cervix, your eyes rolling back. “You’re so fucking deep! Yes!” You cry out. And Nanami doesn’t plan on stopping, the intoxicating of your pussy gripping down on his does something to his brain. Having a pretty little thing like you on top of him makes his dick throb harder than ever before, especially with how eager you are.

His hand swats down your ass, grabbing at the flesh to soothe the sting. His breath fans against your ear, panting heavily as he succumbs to your warmth, basking in the pleasure and thrill of this moment. “You like it right here? Huh?” He angles his hips just slightly, flushed against yours as he presses against your sweet spot. You let out a pornographic moan, gripping onto him tightly. “That’s the spot, baby? Right fucking there, hm?” He toys with you, thrusting up into you again. Your body shudders in his hold. “Ohhh, yes, baby. Take it. Fucking take it.” He starts loving at an animalistic pace, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” With each brutal thrust, your skin heats up, heart rapidly pounding in your chest. Your brows furrow in pleasure, turning your head to catch his lips, feverishly kissing him. His tongue slips against yours, both of you moaning, panting, high off pleasure. “Ohhh…shit…I’m gonna—gonna c-cum!” You moan, biting down on your bottom lip.

“Atta girl, cum on my dick. Let me feel all of you,” he whispers against your ear, his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you. “I got you, sweetheart.” His presses a messy kiss to your lips, each growing second your orgasm builds, and you already know how intense it’ll be. Your mind goes completely blank, incoherent mumbles and whimpers are all that are heard from you. Without warning, your entire body shakes, your orgasm raining down on you like a storm. “There she is,” he chuckles. “Good fucking girl.” He spanks your ass a few times, taking enjoyment out of watching you cum on his dick, still fucking him back as best as you could.

And the next morning, your up early in the morning, walking to your new class like nothing happened the night before. Thankfully it was your last year of college before you were officially done. It felt like a lifetime before that would happen though. You sat down in the lecture room, noticing a few faces from campus and previous classes through the years. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to. All you were hoping is that the introduction was quick and smooth so you could go back to bed.

The side door to the room opened, the professor clearing his throat and setting down his things on the empty desk. “Good morning class, welcome to bio chemistry. I’m sure it’s nothing new for you. My name is Professor Nanami—”

You look up from your laptop, eyes wide in shock to see that your professor is in fact the man who just fucked you in his car last night. Why didn’t he say he was working at this college? Why didn’t you ask more question? You were so stupid. “Oh my god, oh my god,” you quietly whisper to yourself, hoping he didn’t notice you in the sea of students. “Are you fucking serious?!” You sink down in your seat just enough for the laptop to hide your face.

If only this class wasn’t a requirement for your major…

[avaredava]

JJK men and your weird questions

MDNI

Master lists

Nanami Kento:

You're raking your nails up and down Nanami Kentos bare chest, heaving up and down after having long sweaty sex.

He hit from the back today, even though he doesn't like it because he can't see your pretty face but seeing your ass jiggle makes up for it.

"What if I hit it from the back Nanami?"

He shut his eyes tight ribbing the bridge of his nose as he caresses your back. "How would that even work love?" He asked with an overstimulated hint in his voice.

"Baby you do a lot and you didn't even do aftercare because your overwhelmed and stuff but I want you to sit there and look pretty my gorgeous queen." You say with your lips puckered.

"Whatever makes you happy princess."

"Whoop! I love you so much Nanami, I already bought the strap."

"Oh my god."

He said for the tenth time today, he gets tired being your husband but he couldn't live without you.

Toji Fushiguro:

When you ovulate it's rough. Toji makes fun of you sometimes, because it's like your sex deprived, like he didn't just fuck you into the mattress an hour ago.

But seeing his muscles bulge in his tight shirt. But it's also good when he wears a baggy shirt too.

So when he stretched you can see his v muscle and happy trail leading to happy places.

So you instantly get wet. But for some reason the normal sex that last like 30. Minutes feels so good.

But it's so fast and quick. You need something slow and sensual. But sometimes you get so wet, you need it to be fast.

But maybe something else...

"Toji can I sit on your face?"

He turned his head back with a small grin. And a little nod just made your squeeze your thighs together.

Yeah he did not let you get off his face all night.

Suguru Geto:

Suguru will always be a dom, no matter what.

But sometimes it pisses you off. So mid sex when he was plowing into you missionary you started to yap.

"Fuck- Suguru so uhm I wanna talk about something." You say trying to stay composed because his thick cock was rubbing on every one of your sweet spots.

"Yeah? What's that pretty?" He said it in a breathy tone that made your clit throb. His hair hanging in front of his while is more shorter hair in the front stuck to his forehead with sweat.

He let out a shaky breath out when you held him closer. To whisper something in his ear.

"Can I like... eat your ass out?"

He rolls inside half way in a thrust and looks at you while he stopped. "What did you say?" His fazed look leaving his face to a more confused one.

"Like your chocolate starfish?"

His face dropped and pulled out immediately. He left, making you feel empty and a bit sad since he usually gives you after care but he ran into the washroom and you hear a ding on your phone.

"Listen, only if you never tell anyone because like it kinda sounds fun as long as it's with you."

Yeah this means more than aftercare.

Satoru Gojo:

"What's your opinion on smacking?"

"What?" He said snapping his head back to behind the couch to where you were standing, fluttering his white lashes over his wide open baby blues.

"I don't mean meanly, I mean like during sex." You respond in an overly happy voice, like you want him to hit you.

And of course his jaw drops, like the dramatic baby boy he is. He never wants to hit you. Even if mildly pinched you and he saw a blemish of red on your skin because he did that too you he would die. (His words, not yours)

"No!"

He said almost instantly after panicking, with a long stare and a gaping mouth.

"But..." His demeanor fully changed into cocky, you sometimes don't know how it works. But it happens.

"You can smack me mommy dommy."

You walk off with a roll of your eyes. "Eugh you ruined it, I'm leaving."

"Wait!"

Ryomen Sukuna:

"Can you scratch your name out on my back?"

"Why in the world would I do that woman?" He said with a scrunch of his eyebrows and all four of his arms crossed.

You're sitting on his knee in his empty throne room. Just sitting quietly like he likes it. You're just reading and he's relaxing but looking over your shoulder once and a while to read what you're reading.

So the random breaking of silence just made him surprised. Especially when you said that.

"I wanna show people you own me." You said with a small smirk. Like he doesn't have you clinging to his hip 24/7.

But he gave in anyway, mid back shots (like usual) you felt his long nail drawing his name small on the back. A tramp stamp.

It hurt for a second but it quickly stopped when he used his cursed technique to heal it before it started to bleed.

The next morning you look at your back in the mirror, it was his first and last name in the prettiest font. He surprisingly has good hand writing.

When the scar goes away he'll do it again.

[swearimnevergivingup]

so uh i'm thinking about ex-boyfriend!nanami. you broke up with him 3 years ago but he's never been able to move on. he's tried everything. everything under the sun, and none of it has ever worked.

he isn't even sure if forgetting you is what he wants. he thinks he wants to let you live in the spot carved out for you in his heart, whether that hurts him or not.

and when you run into him in the lobby of your apartment building? one thing leads to another and you find yourself splayed out on the couch obscenely, the oversized shirt you were wearing hiked up to your waist as you slowly part your legs for him.

the world blurs around you.

all you can think about is this very moment.

the significance of what you’re doing is entirely palpable to you. you’re inviting him in, not just to your house, but into your heart again. 

breathing heavily, your eyes follow his every movement in anticipation as his fingers dance across your inner thighs.

his hands slip underneath the waistband of your panties, two fingers sliding in between your slick folds. you tense a little at the sensation as he parts them, the rough pads of his fingers prodding the sensitive bud of nerves that makes you shiver and whine.

“god,” he groans. “i’ve fucking missed this pussy.”

you let out a little laugh at the foul language that slips from his tongue. it’s been so long since you’ve heard his voice, and even longer since you’ve felt his touch.

“missed your cock too, kento,” you murmur, eager to show that you’ve been equally longing for him, if not more. you want to hear more of him, so you reach your hand out to palm at his erection. he’s rock hard, and there’s a little wet spot on his pants from the precum.

“fuck,” he mutters, tilting his head back. “it’s been a while.”

you giggle at that, a little woozy from the wine. “it’s been a while for me too.”

“n-no, you don’t understand,” his grip on your hips tightens as he struggles to maintain his composure. “you were the last.”

oh.

your eyes widen at that revelation, stopping your movements to fully look at him. “w-why haven’t you—”

for the second time tonight, you find yourself in complete disbelief. you were the last person he slept with? that had been more than 2 years ago - way more than enough time for things to change, for someone else to come along.

but then again, nanami’s always been a serious man, and by extension, that applied to his love life too. never one to seek out casual hookups, that man dated to marry. 

“i didn’t want anyone else. only you,” he murmurs. “that hasn’t changed.”

your heart is not the only thing that clenches at the raw sincerity in his voice. 

“say it again,” you whisper. “i want— i want to hear you say it again.”

“i only want you.” nanami must have realised how much you needed to hear that, the same way he had needed your confirmation earlier, because his voice is more resolute this time. “and this—” his hand moves to cup yours, guiding your movements as he slowly drags your hand over his cock. “s’all for you, sweetheart.”

one hand reaches for the back of your neck, holding you tenderly as he peppers kisses on your lips and all over your neck.

the other hand, though, moves deviously between your thighs, a singular digit plunging into your soaked cunt. 

nanami relishes the way you gasp into his mouth, back arching off the couch as all sorts of pretty sounds drip from your flushed lips.

i love you.

i still love you, after all this time.

he doesn’t say it out loud - no, it isn’t the right time. 

but he repeats it loudly enough inside his head, hoping that somehow, you might hear it too. 

a/n: this is part of my upcoming work: i never moved from where you left me (nsfw)

there are apologies to be made, lost time to reclaim, and parts of each other waiting to be rediscovered. and yet, you know him like an old song. you know the words, carved into the lining of your skin, you know its melody, a soft hum that echoes in the chambers of your heart. nanami kento is that lingering rhythm, that pained harmony, existing deep within the cracks of memory and longing - an unfading symphony in your soul.

comment if you would like to be tagged! <3

edit: some snippets here! taglist closed :)

[biggianteggplant]

Sleep Walking With JJK Men

haikyuu ver.

GOJO SATORU

It was 3:07AM.

Gojo was peacefully scrolling through his phone in the dark, blue light reflecting in his six-eyes like a raccoon at a vending machine. He wasn’t sleeping—because of course he wasn’t. He was a night gremlin.

And then he heard movement.

Footsteps. Slow. Uneven. Echoing down the hallway like you were in a horror movie but forgot your lines.

“Babe?” he called out lazily, assuming you were just going to the bathroom.

But instead…

You appeared in the doorway like a Victorian ghost with unresolved trauma. Messy hair. Blank stare. One sock on. Hands covered in something red (strawberry jam? ketchup? blood? no one knows).

Gojo sat up slightly. “Uh…you good?”

You walked up to him. Very close. Too close.

You stared him dead in the eyes.

He blinked. “Okay… this is either gonna get really weird or really illegal.”

And then you whispered:

“I’ve hidden the body… where they’ll never find it.”

You didn’t blink. You didn’t breathe. You just stood there like a sleepwalking cryptid with secrets.

Gojo froze.

“…Whose body.”

You didn’t answer. Just gave the faintest little smirk… turned around like a Sims character glitching… and walked straight into the wall.

Then you turned again, moonwalked out of the room like a cursed Michael Jackson, and curled up on the couch… snoring softly like an innocent baby.

Gojo did not sleep.

He sat there for three hours like a raccoon trying to do math, holding a baseball bat in one hand and his phone in the other, halfway through texting Nanami, “If I die, avenge me. Also check the backyard.”

He checked the fridge.

The bathtub.

The toilet tank.

There was nothing.

Except a single spoon buried in a potted plant and a note that said: “Shhh.”

The next morning.

You woke up refreshed. Radiant. Ready to eat waffles and threaten democracy.

Gojo was staring into the distance, sipping coffee with the energy of a man who’s seen too much.

“You okay?” you asked cheerily.

He didn’t look at you. Just nodded slowly and said:

“…Where’s the body.”

You blinked. “What body?”

His grip tightened on the mug. “You told me you hid a body where they’ll never find it.”

You laughed. “Ohhh. That. I was sleep-talking.”

Gojo slowly turned to face you.

“That doesn’t make it better.”

He still checks under the bed once a week.

Just in case.

You? You still sleep like a baby. A baby that knows exactly where the evidence is buried.

NANAMI KENTO

Nanami Kento does not scare easily.

He has fought curses, bureaucratic hellscapes, and Gojo’s unfiltered nonsense at sunrise. He has survived working overtime. He has survived Shibuya.

But nothing—nothing—prepared him for waking up at 2:03AM to the sound of faint, wet-foot shuffling and whispered prophecy.

He stepped out into the hallway, only to see you—mid-spin, barefoot, eyes closed, arms raised like you were conducting an invisible orchestra of ghosts.

And then, in a calm, gentle murmur:

“This is how the rats taught me to summon rain.”

You twirled again. Whispered, “They squeak… in prophecy.”

Nanami just stood there, mouth slightly open, the kind of stunned silence only a man at his psychological limit could produce.

He turned. He walked back into the bedroom. He did not speak. He did not blink. He closed the door behind him like he was sealing away evil.

It rained the next day.

The forecast said clear skies. And yet—thunder. Torrential rain. Flooding.

You stirred your tea that morning and said softly, “They were right on time.” Nanami just stared at you, then slowly walked away and added “sage” to the grocery list.

He has not spoken of it since.

But sometimes… you catch him bowing slightly at rats.

It’s subtle. Barely a nod. A respectful incline of the head.

“Sir,” he murmurs once under his breath as a rat scurries past. You ask, “Did you just bow to a rat?” “...Don’t worry about it,” he says. His eye twitches.

He’s not the same man anymore. He walks with the quiet dignity of someone who knows the rats are watching.

He avoids cheese, not out of dislike, but respect. He lights incense at odd hours and mutters, “For the council.” He no longer questions things. He just… obeys.

Nanami Kento, First of His Name, Bow-King of the Alley Rats. Long may he sigh.

GETO SUGURU

It was 2:19 AM when he heard the shuffling.

At first, Geto thought you were just turning in your sleep. But no. There you were—kneeling on the couch, half-asleep, mumbling with all the intensity of a doomsday prophet:

“The portal… it has to be here somewhere…”

You were digging. Through the couch cushions like a raccoon with a mission. Your eyes half-lidded. Your hands frantic. Your whispers growing more panicked by the second.

“They said it would be here. They said the signs were clear. Where’s the Dorito rune??”

Geto blinked at you from the hallway, completely still. Completely horrified.

You didn’t stop. You just gasped dramatically and declared:

“They lied. The couch has betrayed me.”

Then you collapsed like a defeated knight and went back to sleep. Face-first. Still halfway inside the cushions.

The next morning, Geto stared at the couch like it owed him rent and answers. He moved it. Cautiously. Slowly.

Underneath, he found:

One (1) lone sock.

A singular, dusty Dorito.

A button that didn’t match anything either of you owned.

No portal.

Or… maybe that was the portal. The Dorito did look suspicious. Like it had seen things.

He picked it up. Sniffed it. Instant regret.

He sat back, rubbed his temples.

“Y/N, what the hell were you—” You looked up from your cereal and calmly said, “They moved the entrance. Again.” “They…?” You gave him a look. “You wouldn’t understand.”

He doesn’t sit on that couch anymore. He leaves small offerings between the cushions now—just in case. Cheese cubes. Crystals. A picture of Nanami looking disappointed.

Sometimes… the Dorito comes back. And that sock? It vanished again.

He’s started locking the living room at night.

Just in case you return to the mission.

Because Geto Suguru has seen curses. He’s seen monsters. But nothing compares to you in full sleep-portal-searching mode.

And he knows better than to interfere.

Not again. Not after Couchgate.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

It was 2:46 AM.

The house was silent. Peaceful. The kind of silence Toji liked—the kind where nothing screamed, bled, or owed him money.

He was half-asleep on the couch, shirtless, remote on his stomach, barely conscious with some re-run playing in the background. Bliss.

Until the TV clicked off.

Not by the remote. Not by a timer. It just… clicked.

Then flicked itself to a channel of pure static.

Toji sat up like a war veteran who just heard a landmine. "The hell…?"

And then he saw you.

Standing in front of the glowing TV screen, hair wild, eyes half-open, wearing mismatched pajamas and looking like a cursed oracle.

You stared into the static. Completely still.

Toji squinted. “Ma?”

No response.

You leaned forward, so close your nose almost touched the screen. Voice dead calm. Whispery. Ominous.

“This is how they talk to me.”

Toji blinked. “Who??”

You didn’t answer. Just tilted your head and let out the faintest, creepiest little giggle like you were possessed by a haunted Victorian child and an alien conspiracy theorist at the same time.

Then you turned around. Smiled sweetly at him. And went straight back to bed.

Like you didn’t just deliver a scene straight out of a found footage horror movie.

Toji stood there in silence.

Then unplugged the TV. Burned sage. Burned it again. Burned your socks for good measure.

He even called Megumi to ask if “the house always had that weird hum at night.”

(It didn’t.)

He didn’t sleep again. Just sat on the couch with a knife in one hand and his phone flashlight on in the other, watching static like it owed him money.

The next morning.

You came into the kitchen, stretching, yawning. “Morning, baby—”

Toji didn’t even look up. “Unplugged the TV.”

You blinked. “What? Why?”

He stared at you. Unblinking.

“You said that’s how they talk to you.”

You paused. “...Well, maybe they do.”

Toji stared harder. “Who’s ‘they’.”

You smiled. “You wouldn’t get it.”

Toji’s eye twitched.

You made pancakes.

He sprinkled salt around the doors just in case.

SHIU KONG

It was 2:12 AM.

Shiu Kong had just finished filing yet another report on “unauthorized infinity-related incidents” and was thinking about how much paperwork it would take to get Gojo Satoru legally muzzled. Again.

The apartment was silent. Too silent.

Then he heard it. A whisper. Soft. Creepy. Like a cursed doll haunting a Victorian orphanage.

“Soup time…”

He froze.

“…No.”

Shiu tiptoed toward the bathroom, phone flashlight on, because only idiots turn on the light when things sound possessed.

He cracked the door open slowly.

And there you were.

Sitting in the dry bathtub like it was your throne. Clothed in pajamas. Eyes glassy. Cradling a rubber duck like a newborn and rocking it gently. Voice soft and serious:

“Soup time…”

Shiu stared.

You looked like you were summoning a broth-based deity.

He backed out of the bathroom slower than a cursed spirit sensing a Special Grade and said nothing. Locked the door. Lit incense. Read five pages of a cursed safety manual he didn’t believe in. Prayed. Twice.

He hasn’t used the bathroom since.

Day 4.

He’s brushing his teeth in the kitchen sink. Still refuses to touch the duck that appeared on his desk this morning. Wearing sunglasses. The Post-It on it simply said: “He’s watching.”

He doesn’t know who “he” is. He doesn’t want to.

He just wants to clock out in peace.

HIROMI HIGURUMA

It was 2:39AM.

Hiromi had just gotten out of bed to get water and silently question his existence like the tired man in a courtroom drama. The apartment was dark, quiet... peaceful.

Then he heard it.

The fridge door creaked open.

He paused mid-sip. Slowly turned toward the kitchen.

There you were—standing in the glow of the fridge light like some kind of culinary cryptid. Dead asleep. Hair unhinged. Clutching the cat like Simba being presented to the heavens.

Hiromi blinked.

“[Y/N]?” he said cautiously, taking one step forward like you were a bear and he was trying not to die.

You turned slowly.

Blank stare.

Dark under-eye circles (fashionable). Slight drool.

And then, with the slow, ominous confidence of someone possessed by a baking demon, you whispered:

“He’s the secret ingredient.”

You reached forward.

The cat screamed.

Hiromi screamed.

You? Unbothered. Enlightened. Probably still dreaming of Gordon Ramsay petting a raccoon.

You began shoving the cat—gently, lovingly—into the vegetable drawer.

“[Y/N], no—no—he’s not an ingredient, he’s—” Hiromi rushed forward, caught the cat mid-slide, and yelped when it latched onto his shirt like Velcro trauma.

You blinked, still not quite conscious. “He needs to chill before we cook him.”

“WHAT?!”

You let out a sigh, dreamy and distant, as if you were about to recite poetry.

“Meow soufflé…” you whispered, eyes fluttering closed like a satisfied villain. Then, like your body’s mission was complete, you slumped gently against the fridge and passed out.

The next morning.

You were eating toast, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito, completely unaware of the psychological warfare you had unleashed.

Hiromi sat across from you, holding the cat like it was a traumatized war veteran. Both of them looked like they’d seen things.

“So,” he said, sipping his coffee without breaking eye contact, “do you remember trying to bake our cat last night?”

You blinked. “Huh?”

He pulled out his phone and showed you a blurry photo: you, half-asleep, holding the cat in one hand and opening the fridge with the other. The caption read: "Meow soufflé in progress 😭💀"

You gasped. “No way I tried to—oh my god, is Mochi okay?!”

Mochi, the cat in question, was hiding under the couch with nothing but his eyes showing. He flinched when you looked at him.

Hiromi leaned back in his chair. “He’s traumatized. I’m traumatized. There’s cat hair in the fridge. And I had to Google ‘Can cats sue?’ at 3AM.”

“I was SLEEPWALKING!”

“I know. Which is why I’m asking this lovingly…”

He stood, walked to the fridge, and slapped a massive neon pink sticky note on it that said:

"THIS IS NOT A MICHELIN-STARRED OVEN. STOP."

You haven’t slept without supervision since.

Mochi now sleeps on Hiromi’s pillow.

And Hiromi?

He keeps one eye open at night.

Just in case.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

It was 3:02AM. Sukuna had just settled in with a bottle of sake and the blessed silence of a cursed-free night… when he heard the slow screeeech of metal being dragged.

He turned the corner—and there you were.

Squatting in front of the floor vent. Sleepwalking. Muttering. Unscrewing the vent cover with a fork like this was a prison break.

You were whispering to the air:

“Hold on, little guys. I brought cheese crackers this time. The crunchy kind. You’ve earned it.”

Sukuna blinked. You reached your entire arm into the vent like you were offering snacks to some kind of feral void goblin colony.

He watched in disbelief as you carefully pushed a granola bar through the slats.

“No crumbs this time, I promise. Forgive me for the marshmallow incident.”

You paused, nodded to the vent like something responded, then yawned and slumped sideways onto the floor, peacefully snoring.

The next morning, he stared down at the vent. Then at you.

“You know I can hear everything in this apartment, right? Who the hell were you feeding last night?”

You blinked blearily at him, sipping coffee like nothing happened.

“They were hungry.” “Who??” You pointed to the vent, dead serious.

He stared at you. You stared back. The vent cover was missing. Again.

Sukuna doesn’t ask anymore. He sealed the vent with a cursed talisman. You peeled it off and replaced it with a sticker of a smiling carrot.

One night he swears he saw a tiny hand reach out and take a piece of jerky.

Now he keeps offerings near the vent just in case. Mostly out of fear. Partially because he suspects you’re the leader now.

He still doesn’t sleep right. Every time he hears crunching in the walls, he just sighs and mutters:

“I hope it’s the crackers this time. Not my damn mochi again.”

[cuntyji]

nerdjo by mvtchaee

[flvvffy]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . ❝ 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄?...𝐎𝐇...𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄! ❞

wc: 452. thank you for 500! anon

3 months. 3 months had passed since you started dating your amazing boyfriend nanami. he was everything you wanted in a man. he was kind, not just to you but to others as well, smart, handsome, tall, nice physique, nice smile. he was the whole package.

every moment you spent with him you fell more and more deeply in love with that. he took you to fancy and casual dates, depending on how you were feeling, because he deeply valued your opinion. he was taking you out, so he had to make sure that you enjoyed it.

you were getting ready for the nth date he was taking you out on. you were sat infront of the mirror touching up your hair and makeup. you were dressed in a backless black slick dress that stuck to all the right places. once you were done, you received a text message from nanami.

nyanyamin: i'm already here sweetie. i got a lovely surprise for you.

you smiled at you phone and put it in your purse, heading to the front door, already in your heels. you opened the door to find nanami at your doorway in a nice dark blue suit. you froze. not because he looked absolutely scrumptious, but because he was holding a large bouquet of roses in his hand and giving you a warm smile with flushed cheeks.

you blinked and looked at the flowers, to his face and back again. your heart starting feeling weird. like something was compressing it and it made your throat dry and your eyes kind of watery.

"i wanted to gift you something before our date. it's not much though...", he says noticing your frozen state and then a tear slips past your eye and he's panicking. "baby! are you okay! you don't like it...", you shake your head, no in fear that your voice would betray you. more tears slipped past and you pulled him in for a tight hug, your heart still feeling funny.

"i love you so much nanami. you just don't know", he chuckles and circles his arms around you, returning your warm embrace.

"i love you too, dear. you scared me for a second there"

"i didn't really know how to react. i've never really gotten flowers before from anyone. thank you", you say looking at him eyes still watering and your heart feeling like it's about to burst.

he cups your cheek and places a gentle kiss on your red tainted lips. "i will give you everything you want, dear. just name it and it's yours", he smiles at you and wipes away your tears.

your sweet adorable boyfriend nanami was full of surprises. surprises that you absolutely adore.

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝐅𝐋𝐕𝐕𝐅𝐅𝐘

[nezuscribe]

gojo never imagined an arrange marriage with you, but now you’re all he can think about.

he thinks about you when he’s training, when he’s seated at his round table, when he’s in his bed, everywhere, every time, you’re all he can think about.

and you’re oblivious to it.

you heard the gossip everywhere you walked, about the girl gojo was pleading with his family to marry. how much he loved her, how beautiful she was, how much more elegant she was compared to you. you knew you were never his first choice, not even his fifth, but it hurt even more when everybody acknowledged it.

you stopped wearing your wedding ring, started acting like you were just another person there. luckily gojo didn’t seem to be in any hurry about making heirs, so pretending like you two were working things out didn’t even matter anymore.

you find yourself alone most of the time. your maids were kind and patient, but they had so many things to do throughout the day that you felt awful pestering them to walk around the estate with you.

eating dinners with gojo became normal, but most of your other meals were in silence, always feeling like a speck of dust in the large dining hall.

one day when you’re walking around aimlessly you stumble across the training grounds, the open space below you filled with men swinging wooden swords back and forth at each other.

it wasn’t difficult to find your husband, his white hair hard to miss in a crowd of others. he didn’t notice you watching from above, and so you stayed hidden, not knowing if the men were picky with who watched them.

he was swift and agile. everything he did was precise and with meaning. no wonder he was named the best warrior of the north.

you found this to be more entertaining than walking around the gardens for the tenth time or watching the cooks assemble the next meal, so you didn’t even notice how gojo looked up to see you, somehow slipping away without you knowing.

you were in a state of watching but not really thinking, almost jumping out of your skin when you heard his voice behind you.

“didn’t know i had an audience,”

you yelp, flinching as you look behind you to see your husband all sweaty, panting slightly as he moves his hair away from his face. you eye the stairs that led him up here, wondering how you could’ve missed that.

you laugh sheepishly, giving him an apologetic smile as you pick are your nails.

“i’m sorry,” you scratch behind your ears, feeling heat rise to your cheeks under his intense gaze. it’s unfair how pretty somebody can look, especially after training for an hour straight, “i was just walking around and i saw this.”

he waved it off, shaking his head as he leaned his sword on the wall.

“not a problem,” his eyes shine, “i just would’ve tried harder if i knew my wife was watching.”

my wife.

the words fall so smoothly from his lips you wonder how many times he’s said it before. with malice, hatred, necessity?

you smile a little bit, eyes crinkling around the edges as you look away briefly, not noticing the way gojo chased after your cheerful face.

“how’d you get up here? where are your ladies?” he asks suddenly, looking around at the fact that it was just you up here.

“my what?” you say, looking up at him through furrowed brows.

“you know,” he waves his arm around as if that would help, “you’re ladies in waiting,”

you scrunch up your nose a little bit, something he noticed you did when you were confused.

“oh, well, my maids are working right now,” you tell him, noting that he still didn’t look any less confused.

“no, not your maids, your ladies,” he tilts his head to the side, “the girls your family sent them up to help you around.”

you stare at him, unblinking.

“the girls that are your friends, the ones that help accustom you…” gojo trials off when he realizes he’s not getting anywhere with you.

you feel even more embarrassed than when he caught you watching him, hating the way you were clueless at yet another thing in this life that no one explained to you.

“the girls you hang around with?” he finally lands on, hoping this jogs your memory.

you shake your head, eyes wide as you fidget with the fabric of your dress. his eyes fall onto your finger, lingering on the fact that you’re not wearing your ring.

“who do you spend your time with throughout the day?” gojo seems even more lost than you. he’s seen you with…? well surely that one time…?

“by,” you swallow, embarrassed, “by myself. i walk around a lot.” you admit sheepishly.

“your family didn’t send…?” he answers his own question with his silence.

this entire time you’ve been alone?

he opens his mouth to speak but somebody beats him to it.

“satoru! get down here! we’re still not done!” his friends shouts from below, and you look over your shoulder to see all the men staring at the two of you.

gojo stares at you, unblinking.

“i,” he swallows but can’t find any words.

you can’t either.

he leaves you there, running down those stairs as he shouts at the other guys to resume what they were doing. that entire day he was off his balance because he kept looking up to see you there, but you weren’t.

maybe you were just walking around, like you said.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

CINNA MY BELOVED IVE BEEN SAVING THIS REQ JUST FOR U IM SO HAPPY THEYRE OPEN (im so happy ur back btw i was checking ur blog religiously every day)

choso thinking he hates reader when in reality it’s just cuteness aggression but he doesn’t understand because he’s new to being a human

begging on my KNEES 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

Cuteness Aggression (Choso’s Ver.)

Tags: Choso x fem!Reader, fluff, very slightly suggestive, mdni anyway, not proofread, is this considered enemies to lovers?

An: this idea is so stinking adorable. i get cuteness aggression so bad, so i definitely relate here lol

you get the feeling that choso doesn’t like you very much.

it’s the way his dark eyes narrow at you with a fervent glare. it’s the way his body tenses whenever you’re too close to him. it’s the way that he’ll make sure to never be alone in a room with you.

you’ve tried everything you know to make him feel at ease while he talks to you, but nothing works. he’s quiet, reserved, and honestly, a little peeved when it comes to talking to you.

you don’t get it. the rest of jujutsu tech seems to accept your presence. sure, you weren’t in japan when the shibuya incident went down, so maybe he just saw you as some outsider who couldn’t grasp the horrors that everyone went through together.

deciding that there’s not much you can do to change choso’s perception of you, you give up. you stop seeking him out. you quit trying to make some sort of friendship happen between you.

that only pisses him off ten times worse.

choso has never experienced feelings like these ever in his lifetime. it’s always been clean cut and dry for him: he either liked someone or he didn’t. there were no grey areas when he was just a curse.

yuji itadori was the one who introduced him to all these… complex emotions. he was still learning day by day what living like a human entailed.

he thought he had it all down… until he met you. now, he felt like a complete contradiction.

your voice was so soft and sweet. it made his heart flutter uncontrollably, which he hated. he wanted to cover your mouth with his palm to shut you up.

your skin looked so smooth and supple. he constantly found himself wondering what it’d feel like if he bit down into it. he wanted to hear what kind of noises you’d make. would you whine from discomfort or moan quietly?

he was physically bigger than you, not that you ever seemed to care. you were constantly there… pestering him. he just wanted to wrap you up in his arms and squeeze you as tightly at he could.

maybe he could but you in some sort of headlock and just hold you there. would you bite him to get away? shit… there it is again.

he growled beneath his breath as his pants feel tight again. he just doesn’t understand. why would his body react this way when he clearly hates you??

he hates the way you make him feel, like he’s unsteady on a tightrope. he hates the way he looks forward to seeing you. he hates how he feels so violent while you’re around, but he doesn’t really wanna hurt you…

it’s all so terrible perplexing. he wants to feel you so close to him that your atoms begin to merge with his.

choso doesn’t fully understand what’s happening to him. that was until your head slowly rested on his shoulder during a debriefing meeting.

it had been a long, grueling mission for everyone involved. he knew you were exhausted, and your cute self decided to take a nap right there on his shoulder.

that’s when things started to click for him as he felt suddenly protective over you. he didn’t want to hurt you. he wanted you for himself.

“oh no, y/n’s asleep. we should wake her, right?” one of the kyoto jujutsu tech students said. he had never bothered to learn her name.

a hand reached towards you, and choso didn’t think twice before he slapped it away. “leave her alone,” he grunted, narrowing his eyes at everyone who was looking at you two. “she’s tired. she needs her rest.”

honestly, everyone was stunned by the fact that choso had spoke up at all, but they were especially surprised that he seemed to be completely content with you sleeping on his shoulder.

his eyes flickered down to your face, making sure you were still sleeping soundly on him. he felt the fluttering sensation in his chest, and his stomach churned. he hated this feeling, but he found himself not wanting this moment to end.

Taglist: @theuniversesnepobaby @airandyeah

[tojis-girl]

fratboy!satoru dating nerd!reader was an odd mix. you two never really liked the same things - there was one thing you both liked though and that was libraries. separate reasons though.

fratboy!satoru mumbled into your ear - telling you that you were a good girl and were doing so soo well for him!

fratboy!satoru whos large hand made its way up and down your thigh, comforting you while you wrote something down in your note pad.

nerd!readers who cunt was warming up fratboy!satoru dick, your warmth making his tip dribble out cum. your sat on him innocently but underneath the skirt you wore was anything but innocent.

you whine when you feel his dick twitch inside of you but he just tells you to continue with your notes.

fratboy!satoru who finds it interesting how your constantly reading and writing but the moment a dick enters you - you wanna do anything but!

fratboy!satoru who tells you to shut up, harshly digging his nails into your plush thigh as a punishment when your mewls grow to be a little too loud.

he doesnt want anyone else to hear the pretty sounds you make!

"Shut up, princess, or itll be even worse later."

[karusthings]

.⋆˚࿔ w h e r e d i d s h e g o - s. geto ࿐˚⋆.

ꎫ──[ boyfriend au ; drabble ]

character dynamicꎫ── boyfriend!geto x f!reader

summaryꎫ── you had an argument. now, his mind can't be quiet.

content warningsꎫ── 18+, MDNI, hurt no comfort, heartbreak, angst, mention of alcohol, trauma, argument, major character death, car accident, hallucinations.

wordsꎫ── 358.

¡! ❞ masterlist jjk.

There’s a ghost in my house, and she’s wearing your clothes. She looks like someone I used to know. She sings the melodies that you wrote, and looks at me with tears in her eyes. Behind every cry, I can only hear a scream in my head asking me… “Where did she go?”

I have seen so many throughout my life, and yet the sight of you is more than I can bear. I have been strong, brave, like the storm on a sea… But now the curtains have fallen, and all that I can do is outrun the dark. The walls are full of mirrors, each one asking the same thing: What became of the man I once was?

“What has Suguru Geto become?” “Where has he gone?”

Now, he hides behind Faustian trades… the alcohol that fill the deepest gaps of that place he once called home.

All because he couldn't face the memory of that fateful moment, when he told you what, naively, would become the last words you'd ever hear from the man you once called the love of your life.

“I don’t need you”

And God, how wrong he was. Now, as he listened to the soft humming in the dead of night, that man mourned the fact that it hadn’t been him who walked out of the house that day. The one who ended up lying on the pavement, with countless dreams and ambitions slipping slowly from his fingertips, as his final breath escaped his lungs.

I hug my legs, closing my eyes and trying to have some sleep in between shadows, mournings and ghosts.

“Where did she go?…” “Where did she go?…” “Where did she go?…”

The friction of the words was slowly erasing my mind during those hours when I still didn’t know the cruel fate you had suffered. Now, the torturous question has become a replay that echoes the guilt without rest, whenever my body is not under the influence of some evasive substance.

I wish I could get rid of all this pain and be free, but that argument destroyed two lives that could never be repaired again.

¡! ❞ masterlist jjk.

¡! ❞ little note; Hi everyone! I hope you're having or had a great day. Okey, I'm kinda stressed these days so I wanted to write some angst... and since I'm obsessed with the song "Where did she go" by Saleka, why not turn it into a very short drabble? I hope you liked it, it took me a while to edit ;; Thank you!!

ꎫ¨.｡ © I have full credit on every artwork in my profile, all rights reserved. Please, do not repost, edit or use any of it.

ꎫ¨.｡ © 2025 all rights reserved, karusthings on Tumblr. Please, do not repost, edit, use or translate any of my projects.

[classyrbf]

you find it so funny how people think your husband, nanami, is the sweetest, most innocent and romantic man they’ve ever laid eyes on, such a gentleman. Which, they are correct in some ways. Gentleman. Check. Sweet. Check. Romantic. Check. He’s always buying you flowers, opening doors for you, kissing your hand, taking you out on spontaneous dates, calling you ‘sweetheart’, ‘honey’, ‘love’, and treating you like some porcelain doll. But innocent? Oh no, no. You almost laugh because it may seem like your husband is ‘innocent’ or ‘vanilla’ whichever term they may use, but he is anything but that. While he may treat you like a princess in public, he absolutely sluts you out behind closed doors.

You don’t blame people for thinking he may look and act soft because that was your first impression of him too. So, imagine the surprise when you first had sex and he was pounding you in a mating press, tears streaming down your face. Yeah, best night of your life. And now that you’re married? God, it makes the sex one hundreds times better than before. He’s go you on your side, one arm hooked under your leg, reaching so far that he’s able to wrap his hand around your throat. The other wrapped around your waist, rubbing your clit while he fucks his cum into you. He’s forcing you to look him in the eyes, faces inches away from each other, because he wants to watch your pretty face when you cum. So innocent, right?

“Oh my god! Fuck!” You cry out, your breathing labored. He’s so deep inside of you, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot over and over again to the point it makes your head spin especially when he’s toying with your swollen clit. “I can’t! I can’t, Ken! You’re too fucking deep! Ah!” You grip onto the ruffled sheets below, bucking your hips as you attempt to make his cock not feel so good, but the bruising grip he has on your throat and waist puts you right back in your place.

“You can take it, sweetheart. I know you can. You know why?” He pulls you in closer, pressing his lips to your ear. “Cause you’re a fucking slut for this dick.” He thrusts his hips faster, skin slapping against skin and the mixture of your juices and his cum create a sticky mess between your thighs. “Awe, is that gonna make you cum? Being degraded? I can feel your pussy clenching me,” he darkly smiled, heavy breaths fanning against your damp skin. He rubbed your clit faster, carefully watching the way you threw your head back in pure bliss.

“Fuckkkk! You’re gonna make me cum again!” Your toes curled the closer you got to your orgasm, whimpering as you took in every feeling of pleasure coursing through you.

“Squirt all over this dick, baby. Be a good girl for me and show me how good I make you feel.” He felt your walls tightening with each passing second, sweat trailing down his forehead as he kept his pace. Your legs began to shake as you writhed under him, cursing and screaming as you squirted all over, soaking the blankets below you. “Messy fucking slut. Look at you, you’re still fucking going.”

“Oh my god! Yes, yes, yes!” Your brows furrowed as you watched him fuck you through your orgasm. “It’s too much, Ken!” You pulled his hand away from your clit, holding onto his wrist tightly while he slowed down his thrusts, now going deep and slow. You laid there in a dazed state, trying to catch your breath. His hand gently caressed your stomach slowly inching up towards your tits, cupping them in his hand while he placed sloppy kisses down your neck and to your collarbone.

So yes, while your husband may be such a gentleman, such a sweetheart, such an angel to others, in the back of your head, you think of those moments behind closed doors when he makes you cum your brains out, praising you and degrading you all within the same breath, choking you and treating you like some common whore. But after all that’s over, he’s back to treating you like the most delicate thing he’s ever touched. It’s truly the best of both worlds.

[avaredava]

Satoru Gojo the strongest, always going to do the best at anything, basically, he's never going to lose.

And he holds that standard high because that's who he thinks he is, the strongest, most powerful. Well he is...

But right now? Good lord he isn't.

Your riding him like it's the end of the word and he's scrunching up then relaxing then violently shaking.

But when you get concerned and almost stop, he uses the rest of his strength to thrust up into you too tell you to keep going since he can't talk.

You've been milking his beautiful cock since he got home from work early. He goes to bed early, after he met you he changed his habits.

But he's not going to work tomorrow because he won't be able to walk. Because the way your walls clench and move around him he can't pass out. It feels too good.

He just keeps cumming and cumming.

When he cums he lets out a long beautiful moan that has your thighs clenching. It's so high pitched yet manly. Seeing him literally stop breathing then let out that noise? Ughhhh...

It makes you just fuck him harder and harder. Seeing those tears in his eyes? But not from working late and being stressed like all those nights you used to hold him.

It's because he's being pathetic and he knows it.

And both of you love it.

[lilacxquartz]

cw: angst, shibuya incident spoilers, character death, not proofread • w.c: 370+

kento nanami didn’t want to go back to jujutsu, not after he met you, but he couldn’t help but do so. being a salaryman was making him weaker, it was wearing him down. going back to being a sorcerer would keep him strong, someone worthy of protecting you.

of course, you had no idea about the life he was returning to. when he said he was going back to his old job, you thought it would be something simpler, but then he’d often come back full of cuts and bruises, and even more stressed out than before.

he never expected to bring out a side so nurturing of you as a result. the way you’d cling to him and try to smooth out the knots of stress he built up by massaging his back, the way you’d tend to his scratches, the way you’d just cuddle up to him.

he lied and said it was just manual labour, of course. he couldn’t bring a non-sorcerer to know about just what the world really was like. besides, now he had even more reason to take such a role seriously.

when he was called out next into a mission that screamed crisis, though, he had promised you that a date was in order the next day. you—of course—fretted over setting everything up correctly, determined to ensure that the guy relaxed for a change. kento, however, told you to go have fun for the evening. it was halloween, after all.

it wasn’t his fault when he suggested it. he did tell you to not go to shibuya, working his way around the matter by reasoning that such places are questionable at night. it wasn’t your fault for passing through that area either, since your friends were conveniently going there. it would be safety in numbers then, he would approve.

so when kento unfortunately met his fate at the hands of that patch faced lunatic, while you too, fell into the crossfire of right in the heart of it all. completely unbeknownst to you, swallowed up by the aftermath of a fiery demise.

in his mind, kento couldn’t help but feel guilty. his last thoughts being, “i’m sorry my love, i suppose our time together will have to wait,” completely unaware that he’d be uniting with you closer than he thought.

just not in the way he could ever hope.