#and now he's fighting Sukuna using Gojo's body... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 1 year ago

Text

Green-eyed Monster

Synopsis. He knows it’s not your fault they’re all over you - but that doesn’t stop him from fúcking you like it is.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, jealous séx, spítting, exhíbitionism, bréeding, chokíng, degradatíon, cúmplay, Nanami’s a bit mean, squírting, overstím, oral (female receiving), semi-public, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.4k

A/N. It’s my birthday month yippeeeee

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - “Talk to her?”

It takes you a second to even register those words - let alone the phone being pressed against the side of your face - Toji’s cock too big, the stretch too sinful, so utterly relentless as he fucks your sloppy pussy into the mattress.

“Hellooooo? Anyone there?”

And it takes you even longer to hear that familiar tinny voice. Too familiar.

“T-Toji- what ngh-” you let out an obscene gasp - one you were sure that Toji drew out of you on purpose. Dragging his thumb all over your throbbing clit, lips curling in a way that already told you who was on the other end of the line.

“C’mon, doll. The mans been blowing up your phone all day.” his words are hot against your lips. Giving your swollen lips a loud peck, once. Twice. “S’rude to keep someone waiting on call.”

He only huffs out a laugh at how cute you looked underneath him, all breathless and fucked dumb. Jaw slack, teary eyes rolling to the back of your head, words slurring and barely coherent.

“Hngh- what-” you squirm, words so heavy as Toji continues his movements. “Oh my god-”

Your boyfriend had you exactly where he wanted you - and since he couldn’t take a hint, Toji was about to let that annoying little ex of yours know too. Knowing that whatever comes out of your pretty lil’ mouth would definitely stop that loser thinking he still had a chance.

“Is she there? Baby, are you there?”

Oh, well, Toji didn’t like that. Not one bit, as he pushes your legs further apart to ram into you even deeper. Unstopping. Unforgiving - like he was taking his irritation out on your poor, ravaged cunt.

“Yeah, speak up ‘baby’.” he pants into your open mouth, hot tongue licking up the stray tears rolling down your cheeks. “Use those words now.”

And because he was such a shameless bastard, Toji’s rolling your swollen clit between two large fingers. Lips twitching up into a smirk as he drinks in all those cute little whines that startle out of you.

“Hn-hngh-” you cry, bowing your body deeper into Toji’s. Clawing at his arms - his shoulders - his back to desperately contain your obscene moans. What a shame, they were so pretty too - he wouldn’t mind the entire neighborhood overhearing. “Fuck, Toji…”

“Awww, what? Can’t even speak?” Pulling himself closer to catch your lips in a hot, open-mouthed kiss he hopes would ring through the speakers on the other end of the line. “My poor baby’s gettin’ nervous?”

God, that asshat better take a hint now.

And shit if he thought he was going insane because of that bastard interrupting his precious time with you, then he was definitely not ready for the way you get wetter - tighter - as he does. Putting on a sinful little show that had Toji’s hips stuttering, knuckles white on your phone as he fights not to drop it.

“Oh-” Toji’s head drops into the crook of your neck, fingers bruising on your hips while he fucks you back harder into him. ”Ya like this? Like being so dirty in front of someone else?” Difficult with the way you were squeezing so tightly around his swollen cock. “Actin’ so innocent but you’re such a slut, huh?”

You give him such a delirious little nod of your head, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently and- shit, did you even know what you were doing? How fucking sexy you were being right now? Shit, he was fucked. He was so fucked.

“Is this you playing hard to get?”

Ah, right. Forgot about that bastard.

Droning out into the phone, “Seems m’girl is busy right now.” And as if to prove his point - maybe to that scrub on the other end of the phone, maybe to himself - he’s slamming into your heavenly cunt faster and faster. Making sure to angle the speaker just right to catch all those lewd little squelches as your sweet sweet juices soak Toji’s achingly hard cock. Voice as ragged as his hips as he grunts, “Very busy.”

“I can hear her - let me speak to her!”

Well, what your ex was hearing were probably those fucked-out whines spilling from your lips. Just as out of control as your hips bucking up for more more more- “Ah! Toji, wan’ more- hngh- fuck fuck fuck.”

It made all the blood in Toji’s body - especially his brain - rush straight down to cock to watch you go from pretending you weren’t affected to being such a good little whore for him. And, hell, that was only for him to hear.

“Wait- that noise-”

So Toji’s snaking up his hand from its relentless abuse on your sensitive clit to shove two fingers into your mouth. Huffing out a dark little chuckle at the way you gag and choke so prettily around him, moaning like you couldn’t help yourself.

Though, that doesn’t mean he’s going to be any nicer to your cunt though. Toned pelvis slamming against yours - so hard he’s sure it would leave some nice little bruises to brag about - maybe even send that asshole ex a few pictures if he still keeps calling.

“What the fuck- is she…?”

“Told ya, she’s busy.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - “You deserve it.”

“Do I really have to do this to teach you a lesson each time?”

You gulp, eyes flitting between his yellow tie wrapped around your wrists pinned above, and the man in-between your legs. Eyes glassy, strands of blond sticking uncharacteristically to his forehead, such a cruel little smirk playing on his lips as he positions himself in-between your legs.

Smack!

A breathless gasp leaves you as Nanami’s hand comes down on your ass. Hard.

And he only huffs out a low chuckle at the way you keen, hips bucking wildly in- defiance? Need? You didn’t know, the only thing you were sure of was that you wanted him to do something - anything - right now.

Because one look at that classmate who you were just a little too close with earlier today, and Nanami’s been so mean ever since then. All but ripping off your clothes as he tied you to the headrest, fucking you over and over until he could see you all bloated with his cum. And even then - Nanami wasn’t done.

“Y’should answer me when I ask something, my love.” he licks a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds. Pressing softly on your tummy to watch his seed gush down your legs, so fucking filthy as he pools it on his tongue, tipping his head back, back, back to let it slide down his throat. “Or is it that you just listen to what he says now?”

God, he was being so sinfully irrational right now. Teasing. Taunting.

“No, tha’s not it-” you sob, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks at how you wanted to cum again so badly despite how sensitive your poor pussy was. “J-jus want-”

“Want what?”

Oh how Nanami loved you like this - that pathetic little whimper leaving your mouth as he teases you with his mouth. Hot tongue going all the way up from your base, just underneath your swollen clit. Not even bothering to fuck into your sloppy hole yet.

“To make me-” the words die in your throat as he grazes your clit. Ever-so-slightly. You just wished you could free yourself and give in so badly. “Cum! Wan’ you to make me cum.”

Your back arches off the bed, legs wrapping around Nanami’s head to pull him closer to where you needed him the most. Thighs quivering, his cum dribbling out of your sloppy pussy and into a lewd little pool below.

And it seems to work - perhaps temporarily. Because he’s echoing against your glistening lips, “To cum?” smirking against your cunt as he dips his tongue past that first ring of resistance. “You should ask-” Before pulling away completely. “-that friend of yours.”

“Noooo!” you’re letting out a strangled gasp, and if you were in any better state of mind maybe you’d have been embarrassed about how pathetic you were being right now. Tugging uselessly on the tie. “Please, Ken.”

God, how he would love to bully you some more - to have you crying and shaking on just the tip of his tongue until all you could remember was how he couldn’t have you like this. Ruin you like this.

But, no, Nanami can’t deny that your adorable mewls of his name have him feeling lightheaded.

“You little minx.” he manages out, pulling away mere millimeters. Purposely letting a tense beat pass, one. Two. Before spitting on your fluttering cunt, adding to the absolute mess of cum and slick below. Missing on purpose - of course - to let it splatter all over your thighs. “Usin’ the dirtiest tricks, huh?”

“I didn’t oh-” Nanami doesn’t let you plead your case - he doesn’t want you to. Instead, shoving his face nose-deep in your overfilled pussy. Lapping at all your - and his - sweet sweet juices.

“Asking me to do this.” he hisses into your cunt, trying for the life of him to sound like he isn’t in heaven right now. Murmuring around your throbbing clit, “Shoulda asked that friend. Didn’t need me when he was around.”

You hiccup, face burning at how mean he was being. “He’s just a c-classmate.”

Smack!

Maybe to shut you up, maybe to stop you from talking about that loser with those pretty lips of yours, Geto’s giving you a quick, sharp smack to your ass. Smoothing his palm over the sting like a little warning.

“Oh yeah?” he questions, muffled around your dripping cunt. So deep that his nose was rubbing tiny, sinful little circles on your poor clit. “Didn’t seem that way with how he was flirting with my wife. N’ now you wanna cum on my tongue? How needy.”

“M’sorry!” you’re grinding your cunt deeper onto his face, a rapid, sloppy little rhythm to match his own. Geto’s tie now digging into your wrists with how hard you’re pulling. “Shoulda known- m’sorry- hngh, fuck fuck fuck.”

Rewarded with a gentle smack! and his tongue - hot and deftly massaging all the right spots. So expert in the way he’s teasing and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Dragging your pussy so sloppily all over his face, tonguefucking you with such reckless abandon. No rhythm or technique - just to show off. To show you.

Close - too close.

Close enough that you could almost-

Let out a broken whine as Nanami pulls away, delicate strings of cum and spit snapping as he does. So pretty and filthy all over his kiss-bitten lips, ones that curve into a mocking smile at your state.

“Who said you could cum, gorgeous?” A hand reaching down to fist his swollen fist, pumping up and down. Slowly. “I was jus’ cleaning that pretty pussy up for the real fun.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - See the mess

It was too much - everything was too much. From the way Geto had you shoved into your empty office room, strong arms spreading your legs so shamefully on the desk, to the way he’s stuffing his achingly hard cock in-between them.

Hips so well, and dangerously intent. Like he had something to prove, and didn’t mind whether he would break you in the process.

And he did - to prove himself to those incessant coworkers of yours that hit on you in front of him. As if they had a chance? To prove that he’s the only one to that can make you cum over and over and-

Dragging you on his cock, veins throbbing in a maddening thump! thump! thump! Against your walls. Edging you closer to - which number orgasm was this, again? You weren’t in the right state of mind to calculate.

“Oh, this? Might the seventh.” he murmurs, fingers stuttering on your throbbing clit and- oh shit, had you said that out loud? “Mhm, you did.” Geto grins up at how pretty you were like this - tear-streaked face, lips wobbling, such cute moans leaving them each time he gave a long, languid strokes. “But s’alright, I love it.”

“B-but-” you whine, words slurring together in a way that has all the blood in Geto’s body rushing painfully to this dick. “Someone might-”

“Come?” he circles around your sloppy entrance with a fingertip, stretched so fucking obscenely around his cock. Shifting to flick at your sensitive nub. “Guess you jus’ better hurry up then, my love.”

Your head spins, both from the way Geto was dragging your pussy so sloppily all over his cock - bouncing you like such a slut - and from how mean he was being. Nothing at all like the caring, gentle boyfriend he usually was. Throwing your legs over his shoulders to fuck you even deeper.

“Fuck shit shit shit-” you buck your hips wildly as he bullies his heavy cock faster into your plushy walls. One hand on your hips, keeping you still while he massages every crevice and spot he knew would have you seeing stars. The other, drawing frenzied little circles on your ravaged clit. “S-Sugu, someone’s gonna hear- gonna walk in.”

“Good.”

Mouth dropping into a soft oh! you snap your head up to meet his darkened gaze. Man bun so messy already, brows furrowed, lips swollen and curling ever-so-slightly into a cruel, fucked-out little smile.

“Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight,” he grunts, hips getting sloppier. Faster. “Almost like you want someone to come.”

Unconvincingly, “N-noo, hah- I don’t”

“Y’sure about that?” Your sweet sweet juices glossing his lips so prettily from where he tongue-fucked you to insanity right here not to long ago, and if you angled your head just right you could see the way it trickled down his jawline. An even bigger mess at his hips, cock soaked and glistening in the dim lighting. “Don’ want any of those friends to see you all filthy like this?”

Because Geto wasn’t afraid of getting messy - or showing it off. He loved it in fact.

Loved your slick just smearing dangerously close to the strands of hair framing his face. Loved ruining you because he was the only one that got to - and anyone else can come in and watch if they wanna flirt with you so badly.

“Fuck them.” you flinch at how uncharacteristically mean he was being. “Fuck them all. Only I can make you feel like this-” Hitting that one spot again and again. “-right?”

“Sugu- f-fuck s’too deep.” you arch off the desk, fingers carding through his locks to pull him even closer. Eyes watering as you feel that familiar knot in your stomach. “I’m hah- shit.”

“Who’s cock are ya gonna cum all over?” Geto questions, muffled around your dripping cunt. So deep that his nose was rubbing tiny, sinful little circles on your poor clit. “Who’s making you- hngh- f-feel this good?”

It’s all you can do to let out such whiny, cockdrunk replies. Ones that only make Geto rock his hips harder, sloppier with each word falling from your lips. “You- Sugu- Shit s’too much.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum f’me again? All on my cock?” breathing ragged now.

“I- I don’t- hngh. Know if I can!” You were barely lucid at this point, barely even registering the way you’re so sloppily jerking your hips all over. Using him in exactly the ways Geto wanted.

“You will.” Pace only picking up, so rough that a little part of Geto almost feels bad - almost. Your entire body is twitching with each flick of his finger on your clit. Cock hitting all the right spots. Making such a mess of slick and precum below you that you can only pray your office isn’t used for a meeting today. “You can- hngh- do it. F’me.”

“For you?”

“Yeah.” he’s pulling you close enough that you can feel his breath hot against your lips. “You can do it, right? Can cum for me? Squirt all over my cock?” Licking at the seam of your mouth - forcing you to taste him and yourself and him- “F’me. Only me.”

It’s sudden - almost violent, and you don’t even realize when you’re cumming at first. Just that, with a strained scream of Geto’s name, nails raking down his sculpted shoulders, leaving pretty red marks for him to remember.

Juices squirting all over his abs, staining his t-shirt. Glistening against his milky skin, snug cunt squeezing his rock-hard cock while he fucks you over and over and-

“So messy f’me, my love. So fuckin’ messy.” His eyes darting to the now slightly-ajar door - as expected. “Hope no one else sees the mess too, hm?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - The needy

He knows it’s not your fault that they hover around you - those pathetic losers that think they have a chance - but that still won’t stop him from fucking you like it is.

“Baby- ngh. Why the f-fuck did you have to look so hah- good, today?” he’s gasping against your lips, hips out of control, voice a pitch or so higher than it usually would be. “Had so many lookin’ at my girl like ngh- you’re theirs.”

And God - it was so hard to look at Choso too, flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink, stray strands of hair sticking to his forehead - so utterly wrecked already. Though, you weren’t any better.

“S’for you, Cho.” you whine, jaw dropping at the sudden gush of cum that oozes down your legs as Choso pulls out completely - like a little punishment. Lips curling into a fucked-out little smirk at your adorable pout. “D-did it for you.”

Those simple words break him. You break him.

And Choso doesn’t even dare to give himself the chance to compose himself before bullying his swollen cock all the way back inside you again. Heavy balls smacking your ass hard enough to leave marks - good, let them leave marks. Milking himself over and over.

Groaning, “Shit- you don’t know what you do to me, baby.”

And your eyes flicker down at the hands suddenly all over you - everywhere, anywhere that Choso could reach. So that maybe next time when you wear such a sinful little sundress, everyone else will know to keep their eyes to themselves. Cupping your stomach to press down on where he was right there-

“Hngh- oh my god. So deep, ah-”

“Look s’fuckin’ gorgeous.” he spits into your mouth. Fingers bruising on your hips, your ass, kneading and groping every inch of skin. “Unfair- shit shit- they don’t have the right-” Tweaking your nipples, branding your neck, he runs a thumb under your swollen lower lip. “Don’ have the hah- right to look at what’s mine, right?”

“Y-yes.” you whimper, rutting your hips up pathetically to meet his merciless cadence. Hard abs so painful - maybe even bruising against your skin.

Choso’s tugging open your lips, and you let him. Way too drunk on his cock - his massive, unforgiving cock - to even think of stopping him.

Before you know it, he spits in your mouth, once. Twice. And you don’t even realize that this is what you’ve been waiting for - perhaps ever since you put on that slutty little sundress to tease him this morning - because you’re moaning half-lucidly. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let his saliva slide down your throat.

And Choso just looks like he could pass out right then and there.

He doesn’t know what’s more obscene - this or that little pool of cum spreading all over the sheets right now. Seeping into your skin, dribbling down your legs each time he moves in and out in and-

“Hated their s-stares. Their whispers.” Jaw falling slack, cock twitching wildly inside your tight walls. Words hurried and slurring together as he whispers, “Mine right?” Biting down your neck, licking hotly - almost as sloppy as his hips, “Only mine, yeah? Who does this pussy belong to?”

“You!” you manage to sob out, jolting at the fingers starting up quick, erratic little circles on your poor clit. “Ngh- only you.”

“Mhm? I make you f-feel this hah- way?” he leans closer, cock ramming in and out of you so animalistically. “Only I get to paint this pretty pussy white.” Nibbling on your ear, “To s-stuff you full, hm?”

Honestly, Choso doesn’t even know if he could cum again but he had to - needed to. Balls squeezing while he fights to cum again - once more, to prove to himself, and you that you were his inside and out. And he tells you - a little over twelve times as he babbles into your lips.

“Mine. Shit shit shit- all f’me. Fuck, m’so close” And he could tell by the way you were squeezing so sinfully around him that you were too, moans getting all breathy and incoherent the way it did just before you were about to cum. “Gonna cum? F’me? H-hah- All f’me?”

“Yes! Yes yes yes- m’gonna-”

You don’t get to finish the sentence - Choso doesn’t let you.

Instead, drinking up all your sinful moans while he angles his hips just right to hit that one spot, at the same time he presses down against your clit. Hard.

You see stars as you cum, toes curling, legs pulling Choso by his toned hips so he could spill into you with an almost-pained grunt. Cock too sensitive, tears springing to his eyes as he cums and cums so hard he thinks he sees the gates of heaven.

And you, of course, are an angel.

An angel he’s pressing impossibly closer to. Biting up your collarbone, hips so filthy with the way he’s fucking rope after rope of hot seed into you.

Whispering hoarsely in your ear, “Ya finally know you’re mine or do I hafta ngh- teach you again?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Listen up!

“I could always get you off right here, y’know. Right now.”

And that’s exactly what he does - one look at his underlings sends them running. The door barely even slamming shut before Sukuna has your drenched panties in tatters on the floor, straddling his thick thigh, trying - desperately - to get yourself off with all that he would give.

“Y-you said you hngh- get me off.” you hiccup, bottom lip wobbling so pathetically as you drag your sloppy pussy all over Sukuna’s thigh.

And oh you sound so betrayed - so needy - that it might just be opening up a whole new realm of possibilities for the man himself. Doing nothing more but watch the way you ride his thigh like such a slut.

“So what if I said that?” he crosses his arms, intentionally blocking the mouth-watering view you had of his pecs. “Do it yourself. Think m’gonna be intimidated by a whore like you?”

You know he’s doing this to infuriate you, to get you to break and beg him for mercy. And all you can do is let out a soft gasp as Sukuna shifts his leg, the friction so good against your sensitive pussy. Having you see stars behind your eyes.

“Heh, too fucked out to even deny it?” he coos, making you whine and stutter your hips right where that sinful little thigh tattoo was. Pressing down. Hard. “You really are a whore. Is that why you let my ministers get close with you like that?”

“I-I didn’t-” your hips are out of control now, sliding your throbbing clit on the dips and curves of his leg. Absolutely soaked in your juices. “They jus’ asked me how to get to the-”

“And they think they can talk to their queen that way?”

Irritation is bleeding into Sukuna’s words now, eyes dark and hooded in a way that makes you wonder whether he realizes the iron-hold grip on your hips now. Hard. Nails sharp against your soft skin, rocking you harder on his thigh. Faster.

With a soft whimper, you let him pull you into a desperate desperate kiss. Just a clash of teeth and saliva and pure need. Pure intensity.

“Fuckin’ vermin.” You flinch as he spits out little profanities into your open mouth. “Should kill ‘em for even looking at you.” One hand digging into your hips, pushing and pulling them like you were too slow, the other shifting his robe. “Gonna kill them all.”

And maybe because you’re too stupid - or too cockdrunk - to think otherwise, because you gasp out little pleas of mercy. Letting Sukuna drink up your delirious little, “D-don’t kill them…”

“Ha?” Sukuna breaks the kiss, immediately stopping your lewd little movements on his leg. Leaning in close enough that his hot breath fans your face. “The fuck did you just say?”

Oh, shit. You were fucked. You were so so fucked.

“Nooo, Kuna I was so-”

“Close?” And oh, you should’ve known that would be a sign. Should’ve gotten an inkling by the way that Sukuna immediately lifts you from his thigh as if you weigh nothing, immediately hovering you right over his achingly hard dick - you won’t be making it out alive. “Who the fuck gave you permission to cum, brat?”

Nothing more is said before he’s making you sit so prettily on his dick - already soaked in precum and so so angry. Not even a hint of care or concern in the way he splits you apart on his swollen cock with barely any preparation. If you were gonna act like such a slut - might as well take it like one.

“I didn’t give ya permission to cum yet.” Sukuna grunt, lacing his fingers on top of your head to push you down, down, down his cock. “Did they?”

You can’t even form proper sentences at this point, the stretch too much. Too good. Letting out incoherent little babbles of what sounded like disagreement, or, that’s what Sukuna took it as anyway.

“Thought so.” Smirking at the feeble resistance, “Was defending you against that trash and you just had to fuck- go stand up f’them.” He fucks up into your tight pussy in quick, methodical grinds just to squeeze his thick cock inside. “S’like you wanted me to fuck you up right here. To have them hear how I fucking ruin this pretty pussy on my cock.”

You’re scrambling to grab at the chair, his bulging biceps, settling for clawing at his shoulders. Too desperate to even think of a better reply other than a teary little, “N-no- don’ wan-”

Which was useless, really, because any pathetic excuse Sukuna cuts off. Unable to help himself from giving one, harsh thrust that finally has your sweet cunt fully wrapped around his dick. Heavy balls smacking against your ass, squeezing him so tightly.

“Oh? What a shame.” His whisper is hot against your ear, sending goosebumps racing down your spine. Two fingers squishing your cheeks together into a pathetic pout, forcing you to look at the closed door. “Because they’re right outside listening to ya.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - The show-off

The Kyoto exchange event isn’t always fun and games, Gojo thinks - ever since that new prick from Kyoto’s teaching staff started making eyes at you, that is.

How unprofessional! Conduct between teachers should definitely be reprimanded - no matter that Gojo had you snuck into his room, shirt hitting the floor faster than the door closes. His hands everywhere, throwing his blindfold around your neck, pulling you to bed so you can ride whatever remaining sanity out of him.

“T-Toru, what are you doing?” you squeal, as he starts bucking his hips wildly underneath you. Reeling his head back to watch the way his thick cock slides in and out of you. In and out in and out in and-

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart.” he fumbles with his phone, that familiar ping! ringing out over those lewd squelches below you. You and Gojo were no stranger to recording your little trysts - but why did he seem so eager about this one? “Jus’ do what you always do. Take it- fuck take it all f’me.”

And it’s all you can do - thighs shaking with effort as you desperately try to keep up with Gojo’s pace.

“Yeah- fuck yeah yeah. Feel so good- God I never get used to this.” And it’s true, he thinks - knows, he could never grow used to the heady feeling of wrecking your tight little pussy. Of drawing those cute lil’ whines of his name out of you. “N’ I know no one else would either.”

Gojo’s no stranger to running his mouth when he’s pussydrunk - and the way your plushy walls were squeezing him so tight, body curving into his as you milk the soul out of him - how could he not be?

“C’mon, sweetheart. Make a mess f’me - and him.”

All it takes is for those simple words for you to realize what he’s doing. And Gojo’s long fingers are becoming erratic on your clit, rolling his thumb over the sensitive nub. Hips sloppy like he was trying to fuck any and every rationality out of you.

It works, probably - because you know you should stop him recording. To tell him to put away that phone and just ruin you how he usually does.

But no, instead you’re only getting wetter. Knees spread, sopping hole so messy as you rock your hips even harder down Gojo’s throbbing cock. “So th-that’s what this is about.”

With a throaty groan, Gojo pulls you to him by his blindfold dangling around your neck - easy access, of course. Grip just a little tighter than it should be.

Looking up at you through his long lashes, eyes hazy - almost glowing in the camera flashlight. You see the way his lips curl into a satisfied grin.

“C-can you fuck- blame me?” he sounds so wrecked already. Hand growing tighter and tighter with each cute lil’ whine leaving your swollen lips. “Fuckin’ loser thinks he has the ngh- skills to pull you.” Toned pelvis now bruising against your own, words strained and you wonder whether he can remember to breathe - whether you can breathe. “N’ the skills t-to-” Hips jagged, filthy. “-fuck you.”

“Oh- shit shit shit. God, it feels too good-”

You’re wondering just how useful the video will actually be, because Gojo’s drawing out such slutty, loud moans from you that you’re half-sure most of campus can hear.

“He can never get you this wet.” Bullying his cock into your heavenly cunt like he was fucking addicted on the feeling. Thumb trembling as he tries to get the camera to focus on all the best parts. “This messy.”

The way your glistening pussy is stretched so obscenely around his cock, sucking him up so well. Disappearing into your dripping wet heaven. Your tits bouncing so enticingly in front of his face - marks littering your soft skin like you’d been thrown to the wolves. But, no, it’s just Gojo.

Just him that can ruin you like this, split you apart on his cock, have his blindfold wrapped around your cute neck.

“Jus’ me.” he gasps, blindfold tightening, phone so shaky. “He can’t compare to me. Fuck- fuck he can never compare.” His heavy balls sting your ass, merciless. “Can never be me.” Hips stuttering and so so sloppy, like he was running on pure adrenaline and the need to prove to the camera that he could ruin you like he promised. “Never. You’re mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to ruin.” Tightening. “Mine to break.”

“Sh-shit- you’re too much, Toru.”

“You agree, right?” he suddenly sounds so serious. Knuckles whitening against the blindfold. “No one can hngh- do it like m-me?” Blood roaring in your ears, vision getting spotty, like he wouldn’t let up until he hears what he wants. “No one?”

“Hah- fuck, no one-” you wheeze through his grip, “Only you, Toru.”

Then you’re cumming.

And Gojo’s not far behind as he buries himself deeper to stuff you so full of his seed, chasing peak after peak and the sinful feeling of your gummy walls being so dripping wet - with him.

And what a view it was - his girl’s poor pussy so overfilled. You catch the way it drips down the side, cum pooling at Gojo’s twitching balls. Such an obscene white, that it makes Gojo him about painting it all over again. Yeah, his favorite view - and the camera’s too.

“Almost too good of a view.” he grins, looking up at you with twinkling eyes that definitely didn’t bode well for your poor, ravaged pussy - or your sanity. “N’ I just exchanged numbers with that new Kyoto teacher…”

A/N. Also happy pride month hehe.

Plagiarism not authorized.

14K notes · View notes

peachsayshi · 4 months ago

Text

₊ ⊹ . ݁ THE KING ₊ ⊹ .

(boxer!sukuna x reader)

⊹ tags: ryomen sukuna x female reader; childhood friends; character mentions: uraume - satoru gojo; unresolved tension; sukuna is oh so in love; fluffy but a mix of angst/smut/fluff; domestic; non curse au; p in v sex; unprotected sex; dry humping; making out; oral sex;

:about: you've known sukuna before he was a world boxing champion, when he was just a scrawny kid who used to hide behind your legs when you were both in kindergarten. sukuna is growing tired of the fame and fortune, and all he really wants is to fall into the arms of the one person who he's always considered his home.

this fic is one shot. I'll happily answer any lore questions regarding boxer!sukuna x reader, but there will not be a part two or more parts of their story. It is a standalone.

wc: 19K+

Sukuna steps out of the shower, his body wound up in a tight coil after the night's fight. He presses the bridge of his nose together to relieve his throbbing head, but his brow is searing with pain. When he opens his eyes he catches a reflection of his self in the bathroom mirror- a split on his bottom lip, a cut on the arch of his right eyebrow and a slight bruise on his left cheek.

It's rare for him to look this battered after a match.

He's been untouchable for years, he's almost forgotten what it's like to take a few good hits in the ring.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

His eyes flicker up toward Uraume, who seems to have appeared out of nowhere.

He shakes his head at his manager. "Nothing happened, I won. Isn't that a good thing?"

Uraume narrows their gaze, sharp like a sly little fox. They can read Sukuna like a book, but Sukuna chooses to play ignorant and brushes off their knowing stare.

He knows that the inquisition isn't about the sponsors, the money, or the win.

He also knows that Uraume never asks questions that they don’t know the possible answer to.

Thankfully, his manager just sighs.

"The limo is outside waiting to take you to the party," they state, their heavy exhale indicating that they know Sukuna won't own up to what they are trying to prod out of him.

"Fuck," Sukuna grumbles. The towel hangs low on his hips, and he throws the one that is around his neck onto the ground. He steps outside to the locker room and proceeds to change. He dries off, puts on his boxers and picks up his black t-shirt before pulling it over his bare chest marked with ink. He then tugs on his jeans, and secures his belt around the waist. "Do I have to go to that?"

Uraume shrugs, "Don't you want to parade your big victory over Satoru Gojo to the rest of the world?" his manager adds, slipping both hands into their pocket as they stride casually toward Sukuna who is merely trying to gather the rest of his things.

The last touch is his signature silver chain necklace. He hooks the accessory around his neck, while mentally preparing himself for the crowd waiting for him outside. For the voices that would be screaming out his name, and the obnoxious paparazzi who can't seem to grasp the concept of personal space.

They all gawk at him like he's a endangered animal at the zoo.

His chest seizes at the thought.

He used to gloat over being in the spotlight. He took to stardom with an extreme sense of pride, but the thought of it right now just makes his skin crawl uncomfortably.

The only thing that Ryomen Sukuna wanted at this very moment, is to go home in fucking peace.

He’s given the fans and the world what they wanted.

"Little shit got what was coming to him," he blurts out in response to Uraume. "It'll take him a while to lick his wounds and get over his broken pride..."

Uraume chuckles, "and I was worried that he might have actually had an advantage over you..."

Sukuna swallows the sudden lump in his throat.

God he was fucking tired. His whole body is aching, begging him to get some much needed rest. He hadn’t trained this hard in a long time. The strict diet, the isolation, the strenuous days in the gym and in the training ring slowly started filtering into him in doses.

"Almost," he admits quietly, a little bitter over the reality of the situation that he was close to losing. "He's good for his age. Really good actually."

Uraume's face falls at that. "You don't sound like yourself, my king," they tease half-heartedly, addressing Sukuna by yet another title which he earned in the ring.

"The King", "The Beast", “The Champ”, “Monster of The Ring”…

There was a time when he was younger, when the fire for the fight burned inside him with such intense conviction, that he found dignity in the titles that he's earned from every match. The thrilling sensation of him standing in the middle of the ring, his hands raised with victorious joy as he looked down at his opponent while the crowd would cheer for him like he was a figure of the divine, used to mean a great deal to him.

But those titles feel…hollow. An old skin which Sukuna unknowingly shrugged off without even realizing it.

"I'm just exhausted," he breathes with a hint of frustration, giving Uraume a reply after allowing his mind to drift for a few seconds. "I've got a raging headache and my shoulder is killing me."

He slings his bag over his good arm, before turning to face his manager.

The pair walk down towards the end of the hallway, and Sukuna can already hear the muffled voices from the press that have slowly gathered inside. He elongates his spine naturally as he holds a domineering pose. He quietly huffs out a breath and tries to steady the uneasiness coursing through his veins. The second the press lay their eyes on him, they stampede towards Sukuna like dogs off their leash. A flash of white and blue flickers around him, disorienting him for a single moment.

"Hey, champ! How does it feel to knock out Satoru Gojo after everything he said this season?"

"Way to prove that you're still The Beast of the Ring! What's next for our King?"

"You've held your championship title for ten consecutive years! How do you go up from here?"

"Sukuna! Sukuna! Is it true that you've just locked in a multi-million dollar deal with Nike?"

Uraume steadies the crowd, protectively standing in front of Sukuna as they gesture everyone to calm down.

Despite the sheer difference in their size, Uraume has a natural way of commanding a room.

That's one thing Sukuna has always been grateful for regarding his manager; Uraume always looked out for his best interest first.

"Hello, everyone," they politely speak, their voice calm and pleasant. "While we appreciate the enthusiasm; our champion, Ryomen Sukuna, will only be making a single statement. He's had a long night and needs his rest," they announce, before looking over their shoulder and giving Sukuna a nod of approval to say what he needs to say.

The man is thankful for Uraume every single day. He already informed them earlier that he wasn't interested in any post-match interview or conversations with the press, and Uraume happily obliged by accepting the privacy that he desperately needed.

Sukuna tightens his grip around the gym bag over his shoulder. He stares at the small audience before him before clearing his throat to speak. "Young fighters like to run their mouth. I know because I used to be one of them. It's easy to be all bark and no bite. But in my case, I came out teeth first-" he states with a patronizing tone, noticing the press eagerly hang onto his every word and even laughing at his snide remark.

They are waiting for a brutal comment from the badass himself, for him to add the cherry on top of all the shit-talk he’s already dished out.

But Sukuna acknowledges that there is no place for it now.

He doesn't need to add more to the hurt he's already caused to Satoru Gojo.

Everything was settled in the ring, and now it was over.

"However, I have to admit that this was one of the best fights of my career. I had fun. He's been a thorn by my side but I respect Satoru, and I know he has a brilliant career on the horizon. That's all I have to say about that for now. Have a good night."

He steps away from the press, who trail at his feet like a pack of rats rattling off question after question as Uraume tries to console their demands. His manager delays their footing, all the while Sukuna finds the rest of his entourage at the arena exit.

A string of bodyguards help him get through the second crowd of loyal fans who have gathered. They are waving phones in the air, begging for photos and videos. Sukuna obliges with a few, trying his best to fight off the shakes that's starting to make his hand tremble slightly. People lift up their shirts, flash their cleavage and pull out posters, bras and clothes for him to sign. He does so, his signature faltering from a clean string of letters to a fast doodle of his name. His fans offer him flowers, art, and mementos which he takes, and whatever extra he can't carry he hands off to one of his guards. When he's finally had enough of giving himself to the fans, he bids everyone a wave as his bodyguards escort him to the private parking lot in the back of the arena.

Sukuna doesn't even realize how hard his heart had started hammering until he's embraced back into the quiet again. He feels incredibly uncomfortable in his own skin, and he isn't sure if it's the apprehension or the adrenaline wearing off from the fight. The phone in his pocket buzzes, probably Uraume wanting to make sure he's made it safely to his vehicle, but he can’t bring himself to answer the call.

"Sir," one of his bodyguards states, "There's a VIP who is expecting to see you..."

"So?" Sukuna scoffs, the black Mercedes in the distance a sanctuary. "I don't want to fucking see them."

"Well, you see, they insisted. They weren't taking no for an answer."

"And you would be shit at your job if you just let them roll over you like that," Sukuna begrudgingly replies.

Sukuna wasn't particularly fond of the VIP guest lists. A majority of them were people who wanted to fawn over him, or simply weasel their way into his pants. The other half were people with deeper pockets trying trying to bargain him into fixing fights so that they can win big bucks on their bets.

Sukuna did not have the time or patience for the latter, and even the former as well.

Especially tonight.

"Actually, Sir, she's waiting for you as we speak-" the bodyguard stammers, having to look up when he addresses Sukuna.

The champion stops abruptly to give him a puzzled stare and a piece of his mind over his bodyguard’s stupidity, but his attention is sharply drawn back to the car when he notices a figure step out of the Mercedes.

You're wearing a denim skirt, a fitted white top and a pair of black boots. Sukuna’s heart skips a beat, noticing that your hair looks a little different from when he last saw you. A sparkle of silver glitters on your neck that matches his own chain, and you beam at him with a bright smile that steadies his soul.

The click of your heels echo a little louder from the distance as you approach him, waving your fingers delicately in his direction to say your first hello. Sukuna's feet moves faster than the rest of him. He drops his bag off his shoulder, the gifts in his hands splay across the concrete ground and he scoops you up in his arms before spinning you in the air the second he wraps his arms around you.

You giggle at his greeting, your body trapped in a blanket of muscle and cologne. Your fingers thread between the strands of his red hair, tears pricking your eyes at the sight of your best and oldest friend.

Sukuna squeezes you tightly, "they should have just told me it was you by name," he exhales with a hint of annoyance, then carefully places you back down to rest your feet on the ground.

You laugh under your breath, "Don't worry, I gave them hell for it. I told them that I'm the only VIP who mattered considering I have been on that list the longest...."

You try to loosen your grip but Sukuna tenses up, so you ease back into his hug.

He didn’t want to let go just yet.

And truthfully, neither do you.

"Hi, princess," he whispers in your ear, his voice deep and thick with fatigue.

"Hey, 'kuna" you reply softly, your fingers curling around the back of his neck, as your heart beats heavily against his now relaxed chest.

₊ ⊹ .

The light from the car's backseat illuminates Sukuna's ruggedly handsome face. You cup his jaw between your fingers, and lightly trace your thumb over the cut on his swollen lip. Your eyes track upward and you wince at the gash across his brow.

"He got a few good hits on you didn't he?" you point out, not as a question necessarily but more as a statement of the obvious.

"A few good hits doesn't mean shit..."

"When was the last time you got hit this bad in the ring?" you press.

"I fight for a living, someone was bound to land a punch someday. Besides, it's not a concern. I had my good luck charm tonight without even knowing it..." he responds with a wolfish grin.

You jab him playfully in the chest. "You're not made of steel you know? You had me concerned for a second..."

"I roughed him up too," Sukuna states with a pout, "you're all acting like he walked away completely unscathed..."

He slings an arm over your shoulder, his strength pushing your body weight to lean closer against his side. You shake your head with disapproval as you press the button to switch off the light above you both.

The city moves past you in a haze, but you can't stop taking in the man before you.

Ryomen Sukuna.

The first time you met him was on the playground of your old kindergarten. You were all outdoors, and you noticed that these two bigger kids were knocking him around. The kindergarten teachers weren't anywhere to be seen. At the clear imbalance of power and with your sheer sense of goodwill, you decided to go over there and help.

Sukuna had just joined your class only three weeks before that. He was the smallest kid, and had a hard time keeping up with everyone else. Everyone made fun of him and called him "chili crisp" because of his hair. They teased him constantly for how he looked, how he dressed, and how he spoke and simply refused to play with him.

Being young and impressionable, you never engaged. But you didn't do anything to help Sukuna either. It made you ache seeing him treated this way, and this time you weren't just going to let it slide anymore.

Sukuna did nothing to deserve this treatment in the first place.

However, despite his small stature, Sukuna was a fighter even then.

He kept getting up even if it meant that he would just be shoved down once again.

You remember walking up to both those kids and grabbing them by the collar. You yanked them off, placing yourself in between them and Sukuna before scolding them both for their terrible behavior.

"I'm gonna tell!" you squealed with a furious point of your finger, threatening them with snitching words. "And if I ever see you hurt him, I'm going to make sure everyone knows how bad you are! And you’ll get into so much trouble with the teachers!”

You sharply kicked them both in their heels, and watched the kids scamper off, a little more intimidated now that someone they deemed as an equal threat entered the playing filed. Once they were gone, you turned toward Sukuna who was planted on the concrete ground. He was wiping away his snotty nose and trying to hide his tears.

You scratched the back of your head nervously, your throat all itchy and tight from the sight of him.

"You're-you're not a chili crisp," was all you could think of telling him in that moment. You gave him a small but kind smile, before offering him both your hands and helping him on his feet.

He was a whole head and shoulder shorter than you were back then. His clothes barely hung onto his body. He had to fix up his t-shirt and readjust his shorts.

"I know that," he answered with irritation, and a scowl that never seemed to have left him.

You assisted in brushing the dust off him.

"Your name is Ryo-men Su-ku-na?" you asked, breaking down the pronunciation of his name to make sure you said it correctly.

He nodded his head quietly.

You gave him another tender grin, and reached out for his hand before introducing yourself.

"I know who you are, I'm not stupid."

You frowned at his sharp response. "I never said you were."

The two of you stood there facing one another in awkward silence, unsure of how to proceed from the moment.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the next, kicking a random little rock on the ground. "Those kids are stupid."

"Yeah, they are." He grumbled through gritted teeth.

"So, if I'm not stupid and you're not stupid, why don't we be friends?"

Sukuna's eyes widened slightly at your words, like he couldn't believe what you said.

"Friends?"

"Yeah!" you squeaked with a little more excitement. "You'll have someone to sit next to and play with every day!"

He nervously gripped the hem of his tee.

He never gave you a real response, but the next day he showed up and took a seat right next to you in class.

You were both six years old, and have been insuperable ever since.

₊ ⊹ .

You press your cheek against his broad shoulder, and Sukuna sighs as his body melts into the leather seat underneath him. His hand gently rubs your own shoulder, with the two of you sitting in silence together as you have done many times before. He instructs the driver to take you both back to his penthouse, disregarding some after party that he's expected to attend.

At the call, your heart flutters with anticipation because it was a clear sign indicating that he wanted to be alone with you.

You shivered thinking of the last time that happened.

It's hard to believe that this version of Sukuna co-exists with the person you've known for a majority of your life.

The day after he sat next to you in kindergarten, everything changed for the better.

Sukuna still grimaced at everyone else, but kids no longer picked fights with him and he had a warming smile that was reserved for you alone.

Whether in class or outside of school, you both spent every spare moment that you could together. You were glued to the hip like two peas in a pod. Your parents adored him, doted on Sukuna despite him resisting their affection. It was only one night, when he was having yet another sleepover at your place, where you finally asked him how is he able to hang out with you all the time.

Sukuna revealed a truth that broke your heart entirely.

“Here is better than being home. Usually it's just me..."

"Just you?" you whispered innocently, "but your mom and dad?"

You watched him shrink into his blanket with uncertainty. "Don't know. I live with my Grandpa. He works a lot..."

It's only later in your life where you learnt the full story.

Sukuna’s parents abandoned him, leaving him with his grandfather to pursue reckless adventures together. At the time Sukuna was only three years old. His grandfather worked hard to provide for the boy, but he was an aging old man and didn’t expect to be responsible for such a young child. Sukuna's grandfather always showed deep gratitude to your parents for helping out and providing Sukuna with another safe space that gave him some much needed stress relief on his end.

His daughter eventually returned, in tow this time with Sukuna’s half brother Yuji. His dead beat dad was gone for good. But by then Sukuna was already fourteen.

He’s always had a complex relationship with his family, but things seem to be better with his brother. The two of them could pass off as identical twins, it was almost scary how alike they looked.

You loved Yuji; he was a living antithesis of his older brother. Always perky, smiling so bright it’s like the sun follows his footsteps.

Sukuna, on the other hand, carried the shadow and gloom of a waning moon.

Your childhood and early adolescent years were precious, cherished moments and memories that solidified the strength of your relationship. But despite everything, you were the only person who saw how bright Sukuna's own light could shine.

The driver finally parks the car in front of one of the most expensive buildings in Tokyo. Sukuna gets out first, and extends a hand into the vehicle to help grab yours. The touch sends tingles up your arm, but you do your best not to read into the reaction just yet.

The two of you enter the building, passing the security who simply tilts their head in acknowledgment, but from your peripheral vision you notice Sukuna’s eyes shifting around his environment.

“No cameras,” you reassure him with a squeeze to his bicep. “No paparazzi…”

Sukuna was aware of what he signed up for with fame, but that did not mean that you had to be subjected to the aggressive violation of privacy.

And after everything that happened, after the horrific clashing of both your worlds, he felt himself breathe a huge sigh of relief.

“They probably think I am showing up to the victory party,” he answered with gratitude.

The elevator rings, the doors opening as you both step inside.

Sukuna hits the button to the penthouse suite, and from the way his shoulders slump you can tell there is something off about his demeanor.

This isn’t the Ryomen you knew who walked away from a fight with the buzz of the winner.

He’s dimmed.

A bulb that’s flickering.

Something’s wrong, you thought, looping your arm around his and keeping your eyes on the numbers increasing as you swallow your concern.

₊ ⊹ .

Puberty didn’t hit Sukuna; it struck him like a brick over his head.

At sixteen years old, Sukuna was no longer the loser kid that everyone picked on. He was a tower, a watchful pillar that looked down on those around him with an intimidating stare. All of a sudden this scrawny boy shot up like a tree, his body springing into a new version of himself. His voice broke, dropping octaves lower than the soft tone of what it used to be. His shoulders broadened, lean muscle forming since he spent most of his time wrestling and boxing.

He became the bad boy that everyone blushed and fawned over.

The athlete that people admired.

His coaches loved him - called him a prodigy, and a star of the future.

Sukuna carried himself with plenty of self respect, and was extremely well spoken. Outside of his athletics he enjoyed reading and learning history, and his venture into sports only happened because it kept him busy and gave him some much needed space away from his home. He was readjust to a new life with his mom back in the picture, and a brother who was five years younger than him. At first it was simply an escape, but once he settled into the atmosphere of it all, it gave him a sense of structure. Sukuna was diligent about his training and academics, outsmarting and outplaying almost everyone around him. His motivation was fueled with every game and competition, and you quickly saw that Sukuna only had the expectation of being a winner and nothing else.

Navigating your teenage years was a bit tough for both of you.

It began with one sleep over just a year prior, the moment where you both recognized that things couldn’t progress as casually as they used to. You woke up tangled in each other’s arms, hyper aware of your bodies and the parts that were blooming.

Sukuna slept on the sofa every sleep over after that.

Thanks to your eruptive hormones, the both you bickered often and frequently. As you and Sukuna started understanding your own senses of selves, a hint of distance started to grow. For a long time the two of you only ever had each other, but with Sukuna now a part of the athletic group and you falling in line with your own little clique, the both of you were finding some time away from each other and identifying who you were without the other person around.

However, you always came back to one another, like two little magnets seeking each other out.

It’s all you’ve ever known since you were six.

One afternoon, while hanging out in the school’s basketball court, Sukuna turned to face you as you paced behind him while he was throwing some shots for fun.

“They think you’re my girlfriend,” he casually stated, referencing his new set of friends who always studied you with intense curiosity.

Your face burned multiple degrees hotter than it should.

“W-what?” You stammered.

“Yeah,” he answered nonchalantly, and you watched him dribble the basketball as the awkwardness settled.

“That’s…that’s weird…” was all you could think of adding on. “You told them I am not, right?”

Sukuna furrowed his brows and hummed. But he nodded his head.

“Just because we are friends that doesn’t automatically mean that we are “boyfriend and girlfriend”,” you insisted, using air quotes to emphasize your statement.

Sukuna turned so his back was to you, and tossed the ball directly into the ring.

“That’s what I told them…” he reassured, but something about his tone didn’t sit right with you.

The summer that followed - Sukuna’s grandfather, mom and brother took a trip away. Sukuna declined to join since he was participating in a tournament. After his wrestling team came out victorious, he decided to throw a secret bash at his place to celebrate.

You were there helping him hide away all the fragile items, before staring at him in shock when he placed a few beer cans on his kitchen counter.

“How did you get that?” You asked in a low whisper, afraid that you both might somehow get caught for doing something that you aren’t supposed to.

He just gave you a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry about it, Princess…”

That nickname stuck on you like glue. It’s something Sukuna called you with annoyance when you were both kids, and you used to call him an angry dragon in return. Even though you stopped using that silly term, for some reason Sukuna’s pet name morphed into one of endearment and affection which he kept using.

“It’s just the team and a couple of girls that the guys have been trying to get with…” he ensured, “The guys wanted the beers, so I managed to sneak some from my grandfather’s stash…”

“And what if he finds out?”

Sukuna laughs, “that old man can’t even remember what day it is. I’m sure he won’t notice a few beer cans missing…”

That night you had your first secret party, your first sip of beer and your first kiss; it was one of those core memories that lingered that was reminiscent of the adrenaline rush from living out the freedom of being young with no responsibilities. You don’t remember who it was who called out the idea of playing seven minutes in heaven, but suddenly all of you were sitting in a circle spinning an empty bottle on Sukuna’s grandfather’s worn rug. Your heart sat at your throat, your eyes fixated on the piece of twirling glass, half wondering who it would land on. You watched as couples disappeared into Sukuna’s room, everyone snickering in a circle thinking about what the potential couples could possibly be doing.

The boys were crude with their commentary, and the girls giggled with feign disgust.

Some people came out looking displeased, clearly unamused by what they experienced, while others had a look of euphoria on their faces.

When the bottle landed on you, the first person you found yourself seeking out was Sukuna.

However, the other end of the bottle wasn’t pointing to him, but to one of his teammates.

His friend’s eyes widen with intrigue, a cute smile forming on his pouty lips.

Your own cheeks warmed with curiosity.

He helped you onto your feet, but the two of you were struck with an abrupt question that had you pausing your movements.

“Do you want to do this?” Sukuna pointedly asked, his focus on you alone and no one else.

There was a grave but serious look resting firmly on his face.

Something about his stare made you uncomfortable, though you couldn’t place why. With the eyes of everyone else on you and his teammate, you instantly wanted to divert the intense attention elsewhere.

“Of course!” You said with a casual shrug, then grabbed his teammate’s hand and led him into Sukuna’s bedroom.

You’ve been in here countless of times, never once feeling uncomfortable in this space. But this time, you were quite aware of the state of his bed, of the slightly rumpled sheets that were tugged from edge to edge. Your mouth went dry, your body suddenly trying to recollect every movie, book and comic that explained or depicted the intimacies between two people.

Two hands touched your waist, spinning you on your feet.

“Time’s ticking,” his friend said. “We shouldn’t waste it…”

“I’ve never done this before…” you blurted out.

“I haven’t either…” he answered kindly, and that made you feel better.

“Okay…” you said, before placing your hands awkwardly on his shoulder.

“Let’s just start with a kiss…” he suggested and then leaned forward.

You were frozen then, unsure of what to do. You stood there with wide eyes as you felt his lips on yours, the sensation making your belly tingle.

He pulled away.

“That wasn’t too bed…” you admitted and he laughed.

“Do you want to try?” He asked.

Your first initiated kiss wasn’t magical, nor was it horrendous as some of your other friends experienced. Even now when you think about it - the only memory that hits you is one of innocent exploration. It took a minute for you to get comfortable with his prodding tongue, to figure out the clash between lips and teeth, and to allow his wet muscle to access our mouth and glide over your own. The sensation reminded you of sticky, tacky popsicles that clung to your lips in summers past.

It was fun…until a loud bang startled you both, making you split from each other’s arms like opposing forces.

“Time’s up,” Sukuna growled, before barging in without even so much as asking if you were decent like he did with the other pairs.

The look he gave his teammate was terrifying, even you couldn’t help but gulp.

His friend let out a nervous giggle, scratching the back of his head as he scurried his way out. “Damn, that was fast!” He tittered nervously, his voice cracking slightly towards the end.

Sukuna narrowed his gaze as he watched him leave the room. Meanwhile, you both stood there facing each other, noticing his nostrils flaring as your breath rose and fell.

“What?” You questioned, returning his hard stare with an even stronger glare.

He huffed out a breath through his nose, “are you okay?” he asked, in an attempt to compose his clearly frazzled state.

“Yes!” You blurted back, a little shaken. “Was that even seven minutes?”

Sukuna grimaced, holding onto your eyes before he stormed out of his room, scoffing with annoyance at your response.

Neither of you really spoke about the awkwardness of that moment, and instead carried into the heat of that summer like nothing even happened.

But, what did hurt you after that, was that Sukuna never invited you to any of his “parties” again.

He fibbed and said it was just “a team thing”, but you eventually heard about the other attendees at the party, and only through the grapevine found out about Sukuna’s first kiss.

It felt like a betrayal in its own way, this sudden shakiness in your friendship as uncertain as tectonic plates waiting to crash into a shattering earthquake.

You called him one night to confront him, asking him why he wouldn’t tell you about his first kiss when you both should be able to talk about everything. But that conversation just resulted in an argument, a blow out that felt like a collapse in your world.

You both didn’t speak to each other until the end of that summer, when Sukuna finally waved the white flag by crawling to your front door late one evening with some ice cream as a peace offering.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, while you both sat on the sidewalk, scooping wooden spoons into the tub of vanilla with chocolate chips.

It’s the first time he’s ever apologized to you.

Even when you were kids, Sukuna refused to ever say he was sorry.

He would just pout angrily before over compensating with his sweetness to show you that he didn’t mean it.

But not this time.

You licked the vanilla off the spoon, biting down on the rich chocolate chunks, and hoping that the tears wouldn’t fall from your eyes from how your chest swelled at his remorse.

Sukuna draped an arm around your shoulder, “I hate that things have been weird between us.”

“You made them weird…” you mumbled and he just sighed.

“‘Yes,” he begrudgingly admitted, “yes, I did…”

You turned to look up at him, and he gave you a solemn smile.

“I’m a little possessive of you, I realize…” he explained, his lips forming into that small frown, mirroring his childlike expression.

“A little?” you answered back with a snarky tone.

“You’re my best friend,” he admitted, his eyes downcast with regret. “You have always been my person.”

“You’re my person too, ‘kuna…” you murmured, “but…but being best friends means that we have to trust each other. That we can’t just…hurt each other. That we should stop being honest or talking to one another when things get bad…that we can’t face things that make us…I don’t know, feel weird and stuff…”

He rested his chin on the top of your head, the two of you finally bridging the gap of what seemed to be the first real challenge of your friendship.

“It was a shit kiss…” he sighed, “I was just too fucking embarrassed to tell you.”

You gazed up at him from underneath your lashes.

“Why?” You said with a light laugh.

Sukuna’s attention dipped to your mouth for a split second and back to your eyes again. “I don’t know. You just seemed to have enjoyed yours in comparison. I felt like I lost a game or something. I didn’t want to admit that mine was awkward and wet and just…not fucking good…”

You laughed at that.

“Everything with you is a competition…”

“Not everything…”

You nudged his stomach playfully with your elbow. “Do you remember when we played Mario Kart for the first time? When you lost three rounds in a row and nearly ripped my head off?”

“How was I supposed to know you are freakishly good at that game?”

You laughed, “I stay the reigning champion of rainbow road!”

“You stay a pain in my ass…”

You rolled your eyes, “a pain in your ass that will never leave you, so stop complaining about it…”

Sukuna exhales, “It was…a bad kiss,” he admitted shyly, “She was so damn skittish, and I think I was too. I didn’t…I didn’t think it would be so…ugh. It was just not the right person…”

“Or maybe you were just nervous…” you answered honestly.

Sukuna shook his head.

“No, I know it wasn’t the right person…” he said with confidence.

You unraveled from his hold for a moment to look deep into those heated eyes.

“Can I say something?” he questioned, the tips of his ears turning slightly red, a blush you’ve seen before but never realized how adorable it actually looked on him until this moment.

“Anything”

“I don’t want you to think I am being weird or take this the wrong way…” Sukuna explained, pausing for a single breath before continuing. “I just thought the first person I would’ve kissed would have been…well, you…

The world went still in that moment. All you could hear was the soft rustle of the trees in the distance, and all you could see was the open vulnerability of Sukuna’s heart resting on his face.

It’s incredibly rare for him to even show it, your friend guarding that part of himself with such conviction.

“Oh…”

“But then I realized that you’re not supposed to be kissing your best friend,” he added on, stomping on the spark that flickered between you both before it even had a chance to even light.

“No,” you agreed quickly, your eyes darting to the tub of ice cream. You pressed the back of your spoon into the creamy texture, doing your best to ignore the sudden pulse in your chest.

“My second kiss was a lot better that’s for sure…” Sukuna rambled on, digging his spoon around yours as he scooped himself another serving of ice cream. “Way better actually…and on round three I think I got the hang of it…”

You swallowed the tiny lump in your throat. “I don’t need to know the gross details, please,” you implored, though your stomach rolled with a hint of nausea at the reality that he’s kissed more people than you expected.

You never admitted it out loud, but the confession made you a little jealous.

If you were an option in his head…why didn’t he just ask?

₊ ⊹ .

Sukuna lost his virginity to a freshman college student a year later when he snuck into a party with two of his former teammates. You lost yours on the night of your graduation party to the same boy you kissed for the first time. You and Sukuna were expected to attend the same university (with him obtaining a full scholarship for academic excellence), but your friend had deviated from the shared path after being scouted. The two of you commuted to see each other often, with you visiting him when he was training and him stopping by the campus whenever he had free time.

You and Sukuna knew about the other person’s intimate lives from the stories you shared, and despite continuously being plagued with constant accusations of being “more than friends”, you both agreed never to allow that discomforting prospect to intervene with your friendship again after that terribly awkward summer.

Rather than ignore the fact that you were growing to be even more beautiful by the day, Sukuna just became extremely blunt around you. He didn’t hide his eyes checking you out, noticing how your curves were starting to fill out and how you began to mature into your own features. He confidently spoke about how attractive you were, and often boosted your ego in ways that only enhanced your own confidence.

You enjoyed reminding him that once upon a time he thought “girls were disgusting” and “looked funny”.

“Let’s not forget I am the first guy to marry you,” he joked, recalling a game you both used to play where you pretended to be characters from a fantasy realm.

“Actually you were the first dragon to marry me,” you clarified, because Sukuna loathed the prospect of playing a prince. “I don’t really think it counts…”

“Maybe not - but all these guys fawning over you are going to find out you’re some kind of monster fucker and start running in the other direction…”

It was safe to say that the banter between you both never changed.

You on the other hand, were recognizing just how handsome Sukuna was becoming too. You’ve seen him shirtless a million times up until this point, but something about watching the definition of muscle build into his new physique, and noticing the way manhood slowly enveloped his body, began to hit you in different ways. This was especially noticeable when you would watch him train in the ring, paying attention to the fact that Sukuna wasn’t built just like any average person. It didn’t even occur to you how incredibly strong he had become until he would lift or move your body around like you were weightless and not a living, breathing human with physical mass.

One evening, while you both were walking back to your dorm from a dinner at a cheap ramen bar, Sukuna had the audacity to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder because “you couldn’t keep up with his pace”.

All of a sudden, you were acutely aware that the scrawny boy that you used to protect was now all grown up.

Sukuna morphed into brick and stone, while you were merely glass.

For some reason, it put a strain on your heart.

You guys really weren’t kids anymore.

This was only solidified a year and a half into his career when Sukuna fought in his first professional tournament at twenty years old. The man dominated the ring against his opponent. He broke the record of the most knock outs and became a household name almost overnight.

“The King”

Time moved at double speed after that.

Your fingers that were clinging to bits of nostalgia weren’t able to keep them from it slipping between your grasp. Things were happening in a blur, and the sudden shift in Sukuna’s world felt like a birthing black hole in your own.

The night before Sukuna was flying off on his first world tour, the two of you were cooped up in your dorm room, snuggled underneath the blanket like you used to be when you were both kids.

This time, it wasn’t awkward.

You had both experienced love and lust in different ways up until that point.

You knew that being this close didn’t have to mean anything risqué.

You were comfortable with yourselves far more than you were five years ago.

“It’s going to be weird not seeing you all the time,” you whispered with a sniffle, while Sukuna traced the shell of your ear.

Two silver chains mirrored one another, one on your neck and the other on his. It was your parting gift to him, a reminder to keep a piece of each other around when you couldn’t be together.

You assumed Sukuna would find it stupid, but instead he clasped the necklace around himself before doing the same for you in silent contemplation.

“I’ll keep in touch, brat” he soothed, but you could hear the ache in his voice too.

You circled your arms around his neck, eagerly clinging onto him as closely as you could for the little time you had.

“I am really proud of you though,” you spoke, your shaky breath against his collar bone, a tear rolling down your cheek as you inhaled the herby scent of his soap.

“I’m paying off your loans when the money really starts rolling in,” he chuckled against your temple.

You shook your head with disapproval. “Just buy your grandpa something nice,” you insisted. “And make sure to spoil Yuji…”

“That kid’s already spoiled…”

“But he’s a sweetheart,” you emphasized, “and I know he’s probably going to miss you more than me…”

Sukuna hummed. “I wouldn’t be here without you.”

You tilted your chin up as he dropped his head down, your noses merely inches apart. You relaxed the muscles on your face, your thumb reaching to smooth the crease from between his brows.

“God knows what would have happened if you didn’t save my sorry ass back when we were kids…” he said with an easy smile.

“You would have eventually fought back,” you giggled, “besides, you don’t need me protecting you anymore…” you pointed out, your voice a little breathless, and your anxious mind running on the concern of if you might even fit into Sukuna’s new life after this.

He wrapped his arms around you, bringing you into the seam of his frame.

“I always need you,” he confessed, and those words were enough to make you break as the pain of his departure finally collided into you.

₊ ⊹ .

Sukuna went off to having an extremely successful boxing career.

At twenty-two, he had turned into one of the hottest sports stars the industry has ever seen.

He had win after his win under his belt, and the second he partnered with Uraume it was a match made in heaven.

He was insanely good, and with Uraume by his side, he was now unstoppable.

You were provided tickets to any of his fights, accompanied with private transportation and accommodation if necessary. Sukuna always made sure that you were well take care of, and you always accepted because it was the only time you were able to actually see him. Those few days were precious together, before you had to depart and return to the real world once again. Each of Sukuna’s fights was a mesmerizing experience. There was something about his flow in the ring that managed to make everything else around him blur.

He was strong, but agile.

Brutal but swift with his movements.

He moved with regal precision, a dancer that understood the rhythms of strength.

Everyone challenged him, but all of them failed.

Ryomen Sukuna was a force to be reckoned with.

Despite the distance, you and Sukuna always made a conscious effort at keeping in touch with each other. You may not be physically there in each other’s presence, but not a day went by without a phone call or multiple texts.

At twenty-seven, Sukuna was at the peak of his stardom. Your best friend found himself tangled between the world of fame and fortune, alongside his old life of normalcy and humble peace. He made good on his promises; setting up a trust fund to ensure that Yuji was well taken care of in every capacity. He paid off all your loans in secret because he knew you would never accept it from him upfront. He bought his grandfather a home in Osaka for him to retire to. And his peace offering to his mom was renovating their old, broken home into something new and vibrant for her to live her life happily now that she seemed to have finally settled down in her third marriage. Sukuna even offered to take care of his step brother, Choso. They may not have been personally close, but he was grateful that Choso was keeping a watchful eye on Yuji.

Your own life was starting to unfurl as well - you had graduated university, were experiencing your first serious relationship, navigating various friendships and landing your first job. It all felt normal compared to Sukuna, but the man never minimized your experiences.

When you were together, it’s like nothing had even changed, but the moment your realities bled into each other, it was a constant reminder of how just how far apart your lives actually were.

You were harassed by the paparazzi who constantly overstepped.

Sukuna’s boundaries were crossed by the people you knew because everyone wanted a moment with the star.

You found yourself in environments with the rich whose beauty, wealth and status seemed far out of your reach.

Sukuna found himself being treated more like an object than a person.

And yet, you both seemed to be settling down into your own versions of the life you were creating - always weaving the other person in no matter the obstacle.

At twenty-eight, Sukuna had earned more money than he could even imagine, and was still somehow only moving onwards and up. He was plastered on every magazine cover, was the the center of attention on social media by his most dedicated and loyal fans. He was stalked and obsessed over, admired and feared. Networks wanted to feature him on shows, movies and every talk show. The man was a composition of everything that people were projecting onto him.

He had become an untouchable to the eyes of every living mortal.

But to you, and just you - he would always be the little boy who was far too small for this big world.

After years of flings with influencers, models, and high end socialites - it seemed that Sukuna was finally settling down with one of the top actresses in the industry. The moment the two of them were caught kissing at a party, their secret was revealed to the public.

You, however, knew all the details of the ways in which Sukuna was slowly wooing her.

At this point you’ve both grown tolerant of hearing about the other person’s love life. And at this time especially, you weren’t affected by Sukuna’s first serious relationship because you and your boyfriend were discussing the possibility of marriage which felt close on the horizon. You had just bought your first house, and was considering the big gesture of having him move in with you. You had gotten an incredible promotion at work, and for the first time you felt a sense of stability that you had never really experienced before.

“We should have dinner together!” You offered one night to Sukuna over the phone.

“The four of us?” He questioned.

“Yeah, I mean…you know Sousuke really well…”

“Yeah, and he hates me…”

“But I haven’t met Mei yet…and no, Sousuke doesn’t “hate you”…”

“I hate to break it to you, Princess. But the guy can’t stand me…”

You glanced towards your boyfriend who was sitting on the sofa, his attention on the television show he was watching. You stepped away from the living room, and quietly made your way to the bedroom.

“’kuna…” you spoke, your throat catching, “I think…I think he might propose…”

“What?!” He exclaimed and you had to pull the phone away.

“Jeez! Don’t shout! You’re going to make me pop an ear drum!”

He groaned.

You sighed, “we’ve been talking about it…and I just…I just really want you guys to get along is all. I just think you guys are just not seeing eye to eye…”

Sukuna remained oddly quiet on the phone.

“Can you say something?” You begged.

“Fine,” he grumbled, “we can do dinner at my place. The paparazzi have been hounding me trying to get any shot they can find of me and Mei. I would rather we don't go anywhere public...”

You smiled, “dinner is perfect!”

At first glance, the dinner seemed like a complete success.

The four of you chatted and enjoyed your night like you were all old friends, especially after Sousuke got over his starstruck moment when he met Mei. You and Sukuna told stories of your years together, inviting your partners to the pieces of your lives that you both shared. You could see that Sukuna was clearly attracted to Mei, and in turn he could see that you were happy with Sousuke. The night felt like a convergence without an implosion - an easy going settlement on the two roads that you and your friend had taken.

That’s why when your boyfriend called things off with you three months later, it took you completely by surprise.

Nothing in this world could have prepared you for that heartbreak.

It was a grieving period, a dark time of mourning that had you glued to your bed most days. This life that you had been carefully piecing together toppled like dominos. After breaking the news to Sukuna, you spent two weeks isolating yourself from anything and everything else.

Your best friend couldn’t stand seeing you in this state, and showed up at your door out of the blue one evening.

You burst into tears at the sight of him.

He was there to mend your broken heart, and he never left your side. He told his team that he was taking a much needed break, and during that time made sure that you were fed and comfortable. He handled any extra chores, slept on the floor in your bedroom every night so that you weren’t alone. He spent hours with you in silence while you wept, listened to you angrily vent your frustrations on how your ex could treat you this way.

One night, he woke up and realized that you weren’t in bed. He searched for you, finding you in the kitchen staring at a small pile of bridal magazines.

Your clothes were rumpled, you hadn’t changed or freshened up since that morning.

Sukuna didn’t say anything, just placed two hands on your shoulders and turn you away from the painful memories.

You gasped and hiccuped into his chest.

“I couldn’t sleep…” you explained, “I r-remembered that I still had these, and just…just wanted them gone…”

Sukuna tenderly stroked the back of your neck. “You know,” he said, his voice deeper than the ocean itself, the tone the texture of velvet. “I can always break his fucking legs…”

The comment made you choke out a laugh.

“It’ll ruin your career,” you whimpered. “It’s not worth it…”

“For you,” he soothed, his thumb lightly tracing the space where the base of your neck and spine connected. “It’s always worth it”

₊ ⊹ .

The blunder in Sukuna’s career hit early last year, when his relationship with Mei fell apart and resulted in one of the worst break ups that people have ever seen. Mei released a public, viral video that had millions of views and thousands of shares. She accused Sukuna of cheating for the entirety of their two year relationship, crying crocodile tears on camera over how she was simply another trophy that he could successfully claim while his heart always belonged to someone else.

That video made your blood boil.

You knew Sukuna wasn’t perfect - but if there was one thing you would never doubt about that man it was his loyalty.

You saw it towards grandfather, to Yuji, to Uraume, and even yourself.

That man scoffed at the prospect of cheating, believing it to be a cowardice act.

And Sukuna was no coward.

Even in prior relationships, he was always clear about where he stood. If he couldn’t commit to something, he made it perfectly known. You still didn’t know what it was about Mei that had him finally let his walls down. But when they were together, he looked perfectly content. Every desire and every fantasy he dreamt up in his youth had finally been accomplished. But all you knew about their break up was that things weren’t working out, and Sukuna wasn’t willing to share more than that.

You were being respectful of his privacy, understanding firsthand how tough this kind of heartbreak can be.

He called you when the Mei's video first broke out, his voice strained.

“You know it’s not true, right?” He questioned before even saying hello.

“Ryo, of course I know that-”

“I’m not a little bitch who would cheat. I would never do that. Nor am I that fucking stupid thinking I would ever get away with it-”

“I know…” you reassured, hearing the apprehension laced through his words. “Ryomen, I know you. I know you better than anyone else in this world.”

He breathed a long sigh of relief. “I was just wondering if you might have been convinced otherwise”

Your stomach tightened.

“But if you believe me, then I don’t give a fuck about anyone else.”

Something about that conversation clung onto you, it sat like a weight on your shoulders that you couldn’t quite possibly shrug off. The tabloids, news outlets and social media accounts were throwing ingredients upon ingredients into the rumor pot that was bubbling and boiling over. On top of that, a new rising star had just entered the boxing world, and Sukuna was suddenly dealing with brutal comparisons to the younger, hotter talent that was Satoru Gojo.

You were the one who offered to take him out to dinner to get his mind off of things, not realizing just how bad it actually was for him.

When a gossip magazine posted the photos of you both huddled together (as you have done many times before) while having an ordinary dinner, it spun your world inside and out. Though the pictures were quite blurry, there were a few people who were able to recognize you. You were being harassed at your work, interrogated by your friends and were even being accused of being “the other woman”.

The worst part is was when Mei fed into the chaos, making a follow up post and stating that “a woman always knows, and is always right” in regards to her break up situation with Sukuna.

She may not have explicitly said it, but her fingers were pointing at you.

You don’t know how your address got leaked, but when you started finding paparazzi stalking you in your own home it became far too much for you to handle.

Sukuna, on the other hand, was infuriated.

This whole time he was disengaged by what was going on, but once you were caught in the mix of this mess, it seemed that he was suddenly ready to cause equal destruction.

He sued his ex for defamation, sued multiple media outlets for harassment. He had Higuruma Hiromi, one of the top lawyers in his field, at the helm of this take down, and the second he shot back, it had everyone scurrying in retreat.

The tabloids, blogs and magazines all redacted the photos of you, reducing your digital footprint.

His ex, under pressure of Sukuna’s threats, came out with a public apology so that he would drop the charges against her and help her avoid her own PR nightmare.

The rest of Sukuna’s anger was taken out on the ring, with people seeing another side of what The King could unleash.

His match against Hajime Kashimo was one of the bloodiest in boxing history, his opponent left crimson and defeated despite seemingly holding a strong front in the beginning.

They dubbed him: “The Monster of The Ring” after that.

The damage was already done, and the stress of it all was starting to hurt Sukuna’s focus. When he nearly got disqualified in a match, that is when Uraume intervened, and felt it was necessary to include you in the discussion.

You’ve always had a complicated relationship with Uraume. They respected you, but you know it’s only because of your mutual relationship with Sukuna. Uraume, however, has made snide remarks towards you when you were both alone - about how you were merely a distraction when dangled in front of his champion’s eyes.

“I think some time apart would do you both good,” they said. “They are never going to stop hounding you because they think there is something more going on, and besides…we can’t have Sukuna fucking up with Gojo now in the mix. We need to show the world that he’s still as strong and as relevant as ever…”

“It’ll die down,” Sukuna stated with frustration.

The both of them bickered over it. It was the first time you have ever witnessed them in a heated exchanged. Your heart started to hurt because you were aware how all of this was only making your best friend see in shades of red.

He wasn’t himself.

He wasn’t thinking clearly.

This was impacting him.

You getting involved in this was impacting him.

“Ryomen,” you said seriously, placing your hand over his. “I think Uraume is right…”

The man turned to you, his fingers lacing between your own subconsciously as he squeezed it tightly in disbelief.

It was the first time you’ve ever seen him hurt.

“It’s just a short time apart,” you said with a comforting smile, “once everyone gets bored we can resume our lives in peace. But right now, I can see this taking a toll on you…”

He furrowed the front of his brows.

“Uraume is looking out for you, and I think what they are saying makes sense. Don’t you?”

“No, I fucking don’t…” he snapped, his eyes glaring at his manager who remained stoic as ever.

“Don’t let your emotions get the better of you,” they remarked, “I know a part of you agrees with what I have to say.”

“You’re not in the right state of mind, and you need to be”

“It’s for your own good,” Uraume insisted. "You are gambling with your career. With your legacy"

The decision was mutual but entirely heartbreaking all the same. Sukuna drew the circus away, and it broke you when you realized that in order to protect you, he had to sacrifice something in return.

The comfort of your friendship, the sanctuary of your company.

It was the price of fame, and one that he was willing to keep paying.

As a result of this tough decision, Sukuna had grown cold. Not because he was being mean or cruel, but because he thought he was offering you some peace of mind. Because he thought that by withdrawing from you, it would make the pain of the separation easier. He wanted this distance to be a clean break for the both of you, and while he honored keeping in touch, it was just at the bare minimum because his calls and texts were few and far between.

The most you saw of him was on a screen, and you could see that Sukuna was miserable.

He was turning into something vicious in the ring, a violent machine that people glorified. He wasn’t moving with the fluidity of an artist that you used to admire when you first started watching him fight. There was a sense of brutality that was now a part of his make up.

Sukuna was no longer a man, he was a beast.

His persona was dwindling into only intimidation. Every interview, every guest appearance, and every social occasion was met with detachments or disinterest. He was growing snarky and irritable, no longer willing to charm the people around him.

Satoru Gojo was the first to shoot at Sukuna with his words, dredging up his painful break up and even dragging you back into the fold with his commentary. The two of them grew to have a very intense rivalry. They exchanged heated arguments on social media, smack talked the other person in live interviews and had tense interactions in public.

The press and the people were eating up every single second of it.

On the eve of his thirty-first birthday, you received a call from Uraume.

“We are back in the city,” they said, “Sukuna needs to start training up for his match against Satoru Gojo.”

You swallowed the uncomfortable lump in your throat.

“Why didn’t he tell me he was back?” You asked softly.

Uraume sighed, “I don’t have to tell you that he’s been in a fowl mood. The agency is throwing a huge birthday party for him tonight which he is refusing to attend…”

“So, why are you calling me?”

“Because…” Uraume sighed, “he’s about to fly to close to the sun, and I can see he needs an anchor to bring him down to Earth a little bit…”

Your cheeks burned at the statement. “Are you saying I am his anchor?”

“I am saying it’s been almost a year since he last saw you…” Uraume explained, “And I don’t want him feeling awful on his birthday. I care about him too, you know?”

You nodded your head, “No, of course. I know that.”

“I told him that I would stop by to pick him up for the party, but I think giving him a nice surprise might do him so good. Remind the guy to enjoy himself a little…”

“You’re sweet,” you said with a smile.

“As are you, my dear,” Uraume replied tenderly.

“My, my, are you actually giving me a compliment?”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” they remarked playfully, and you felt a hint of ease realizing that things might not be as cold between you both as you thought.

That Uraume was really only ever considering Sukuna's well being first, just like you.

₊ ⊹ .

Uraume made sure that you got to Sukuna’s place in one piece and without anyone knowing that you were even there. You clasped your best friend's present between your fingers, your exposed body shivering from the cold air as you rode the elevator up to his penthouse apartment.

It felt right to dress up; you wore a white mini dress with a mesh overlay that had little embroidered detailing on the fabric. There were cut outs in the back, with an adjustable strap from behind cinching the bodice perfectly to your shape. Your kitten heels clicked against the floor, the nerves suddenly tingling their way up your legs as you thought about what Sukuna’s reaction might even be.

This year felt like a century in the timeline of your friendship.

You knocked on his door gently, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

You could hear the trudge of footsteps from behind the frame, Sukuna’s voice bellowing as he spoke.

“Uraume, for the last fucking time, I told you I am not going, and if you force it I will fire you on the spot-”

He swung the door open and froze.

“Surprise!” You squeaked lightly, awkwardly lifting the gift in your hands. “I got you a present!”

Sukuna blinked once and then twice, his lips parting as if he’s seen a ghost.

“Uraume asked me to come,” you explained. “They told me that you guys were back…”

He stood there dumbfounded, for once rendered completely speechless.

You cleared your throat, feeling a warmth rippling over your skin as the man gave you a once over. His eyes flickered down your body, hovering over all the parts of your exposed skin. Your bare thighs, your décolletage, and up the nape of your neck.

“T-they wanted you to have fun on your birthday,” you added on with an apprehensive grin, “they actually suggested maybe a quiet night in and thought you might just want to spend it with an old friend instead of a bunch of people you probably don’t even like…”

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his mouth pressing into a firm line.

He looked…upset.

Was he not happy to see you?

“Uhm,” you mumbled, your fingers toying with the ribbon at the odd dismissal and lack of enthusiasm, “I-I don’t have to stay, but I did just want to wish you a happy birthday…”

You took a small step forward, holding the present up as an offering. “Happy birthday, ‘Kuna…” you said with a quiet warble in your voice and feeling like a complete idiot for showing up. The disappointment of his response sat heavily on your chest.

He lifted his hand, gripping the present as he plucked it out of your grasp. You cleared your throat, anxiously scratching the back of your ear as you lifted up the strap of your dress which fell on your right shoulder.

“I’ll just…” you added on in defeat, gesturing behind you to indicate that you were leaving.

You didn’t even notice his arm sling behind your waist when your eyes fell downcast.

Suddenly you were pulled over the threshold, the door closing behind you in a bang before your back was pressed up against the wooden frame. Your gaze lifted up to Sukuna, your pupils widening when you you were met with his menacing stare.

“You know,” you said with a gulp, hoping to the ease the tension as you tried to catch your breath. “You really do look like a dragon when you scowl like that…”

“Are you stupid?” He spat with irritation. “What if someone saw you come over? We just got the press off our backs…”

Your pulse hit the base of your throat. “Uraume ensured that no one was around…”

“I thought we agreed to take time apart…” he argued, ignoring your words. “You agreed.”

“You’re mad...” You pointed out, the tip of your nose wincing as you pursed your lips.

“I’m not mad, I’m furious…” he said with irritation. “I’m trying to keep you out of this fucking chaos and you just waltz in, in this sorry excuse of a dress, like everything is perfectly fine?!”

You looked down at your outfit, and folded your arms over your chest.

“I…” you spoke, your voice trailing off as your shoulders slumped.

You didn’t even know if you should apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong and this wasn’t even your idea to begin with. You’ve also never seen Sukuna speak to you this way before, and your confidence bubbled when you recognized that this...wasn’t him.

You straightened your back, tilting your chin up to face him with defiance.

You’re the only person in the world who willingly challenges him.

You don’t even have to raise a fist to watch him break.

He was pushing you away, the same way he did when you found him on the ground of that kindergarten because that’s what Sukuna does when he’s hurting the most.

“God, you’re just as miserable as look…” you pointed out with a quirk of your brow.

His jaw twitched.

“I don’t give a shit who catches me here,” you boldly claimed, “I miss my best friend…” you added before shoving his shoulder, “and you, you asshole, have no excuse for not telling me that you are back home. Just because I agreed to us spending some time apart, that doesn’t mean you get to just...cut me off like that. To not call me, to barely answer my texts, and to just push me away like I don’t matter to you…”

Sukuna winced, taking a step closer to seal the gap of space between you both. He brought his head lower, dipping his forehead to press against your own. Your spine seized in that moment, your lips parting feeling the heat of his breath on your skin.

You were expecting a rebuttal, but this…this wasn’t what you thought would happen.

“You are a pain in my ass…” he whispered, closing his eyes as he circled his free arm around your waist, “and the only thing that matters to me…”

He nudged his face closer, so close you swore to yourself that he might kiss you, before tracking his lips along your jaw and cradling his forehead in the crook of your neck instead.

Your right hand moved him to touch his shoulder, your face contorting with a hint of concern.

You felt it then, something wet on your skin where his forehead lay, and you took in a sharp breath as Sukuna tightened his arm around your waist.

“You shouldn’t have come…” he took a deep inhale against your neck, smelling your skin before clearing his throat from any shakiness.

“You said that already…” you grumbled unamused.

“Stubborn woman, you never listen...” he breathed in once more, “God, I fucking missed you.”

₊ ⊹ .

Sukuna opened his present once everything was settled, and once he finally embraced the reunion without questioning any other factors. He laughed at your little DIY stress kit that you put together for him. You both ordered in pizza, sitting on opposite sides of the sofa with the open cardboard box between you. You talked, and talked, and talked into the late hours of the night. Until there were only crumbs on the bottom of the box which Sukuna placed on the coffee table. The bottle of champagne that you have both been nursing was nearly empty.

Drunk on each other, with a belly full of food and simplistic joy settling in. Sukuna leaned against the arm rest, sprawling his long legs and patting his thigh sweetly.

“C’mere…”

Your heart hammered, and you bit the rim of your champagne glass before obliging.

You stood up, swaying a little and watching his hungry eyes blatantly check you out as you sat on his lap. Sukuna adjusted his position, before dropping his palm on your thigh, his touch stroking up and down your skin.

“What’s going on with you?” You inquired, placing your elbow on his shoulder as you rested your warm cheek against your palm.

You were looking at him with concern, noticing his face sink.

He rubbed one hand over the exhausted expression, an intoxicated blush painting his cheeks.

“The press are worse than ever. After Mei, it’s been…relentless. The stories they are coming up with, the things that they are saying about me. I went from being on top of the world to being the guy everyone loves to fucking hate. And with every fight I go into, people are just waiting for me to wash up. The cherry on top of this whole fucking thing is Satoru Gojo, who won’t stop running his fucking mouth. I want cut the little shit in half…”

You smiled, not to be condescending, but out of gratitude that you both easily slipped back into the shell of your own comfort. “Ryomen, he’s twenty-one years old. Do you not remember how you were at that age?”

He rolled his eyes. “I had more class than he did…”

“But you were aggressive,” you reminded, “You weren’t afraid to tear down the legends that predated you.”

“So, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that maybe Satoru drew inspiration from somewhere…”

You placed the champagne glass on his chest, your fingers holding the stem as you swirled the liquid around gently. The silence hung in the air because Sukuna knew you were right, but there were other lingering questions pressing you at the same time. And thanks to the alcohol, you had all the courage you needed to ask.

“What happened with Mei?” You wondered, shifting your gaze to meet his.

Sukuna’s index finger tapped up and down your thigh in contemplation.

He closed his eyes and shook his head before swallowing the lump in his throat. “Nothing.”

You quirked your brow again, taking a swig of your champagne.

Sukuna used his free hands to wrap around your own, and he pulled the glass away from you to take a sip himself.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

He chugged the rest of your drink, and placed it on the ground beside him.

“Ryomen…”

“Don’t push me, brat…”

“But why not?” You wondered, “I just…it just seemed like you both were so happy and then all of a sudden…”

He dropped his head back against the arm rest and stared up at the ceiling. From underneath his black shirt you saw the silver chain poking through.

Your heart tightened.

You drew one hand on the locket, your finger curling underneath as your thumb tracked over the texture of the necklace.

“You’re still wearing it…” you mumbled.

Sukuna faced you. “I never take it off. Only when I have to get in the ring…” His eyes shifted to your exposed, naked neck, and you mindlessly reached for the silver chain that you were currently not wearing.

“I don’t wear it on certain occasions…” you explained guiltily, “only because I am afraid that I might lose it.”

“Plus, it wouldn’t go with this dress...” Sukuna nonchalantly added on and you laughed at his comment.

He sighed in defeat. “The necklace was a small reason,” he opened up. “Mei hated that I wore it all the time. She would badger me about taking it off. The time I spent with you after Sousuke didn’t help…” he added, treading the delicate topic with as much sensitivity as he could, “she accused me for cheating. I told her she needed to back off because you and I had a history that predates her. I told her that if the roles were reversed, you would be there for me because you have always been there for me…”

Your body froze.

“She would pick fights with me over everything about you. Finally I had enough, and told her she needed to fucking trust me if this was going to work. But things never went back to the way they used to. It was always up and down with Mei. Finally, when she had enough, she told me that I had a choice to make. Either I cut you off for us to happily together. Or…she leaves…”

You sat up, staring at him with wide eyes and shock.

“I’m…” you gasped, “I’m the reason why you both broke up?”

The guilt struck you harder than you expected, and you looked down at Sukuna’s torso shamefully as you recalled the state of yourself post-break up, thinking of all the moments where you might have potentially stolen precious time away from his former lover.

“Ryomen, I am so…I am so sorry…”

Two fingers brushed underneath your chin, and Sukuna lifted your head so you could see him.

“I picked you,” he confessed, “I picked you.”

“But-”

“There is no “but”,” he said with a shake of his. “We’ve been in each other’s lives for over two decades. You are my person. You are my family. You…”, he sighed, “you didn’t deserve what happened afterwards...”

His hands trailed up until his digits caught the hem of your dress.

“I’m keeping my distance to protect you..."

“But you loved her,” you gasped, “I saw it. I saw you both. I would’ve…I would’ve stepped aside. If I was causing any issues, I would’ve…respected your boundaries. I love you, Ryomen. I just want you to be happy, and if that means that I take a step back-”

“I did love her,” Sukuna interjected, the heat of gaze flicking upward, the rims slightly red from the alcohol he consumed. “But I love you more…”

He drew all the air out of your lungs with the slip of his tongue, making you perch yourself up so you were actually looking directly at him. His pupils were dilated, widening as if to give you access to the depths of his soul. In all your years you’ve known him, you don’t think the two of you ever actually exchanged those words. It was always veiled with “I care for you,”, “I adore you,” “You’re my person,” and “this is why we are best friends.”

But love…

That felt forbidden to say out loud, even though you both knew that the root of your friendship was only built on love, it shouldn't have come as such a shock to you for the confession to slip so naturally.

You gaze longingly into each other’s eyes, in a way that you haven’t since you were both sixteen years old.

Wondering…

Considering…

“I don’t…” you said quietly, sitting upright as he shifted beneath you.

You wound up straddling him, both your hands resting on his shoulders while his own continued to tease the hem of your dress.

“I don’t know what to say…” you exhaled.

Sukuna pinched the fabric between his thumb and index finger, allowing the silence to hang for a few minutes before switching the subject.

“Did you dress up for me?” He joked, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his devilish mouth. He slid one hand underneath your dress, making you gasp as his touch moved dangerously high up your thigh.

“Wanted to look cute,” you murmured, your words lacing tightly together as the champagne danced across your tongue. You felt a pulse radiate between your legs, and you unknowingly clenched much to Sukuna’s amusement.

“Cute for me?” He coaxed.

“Cute in general,” you remarked.

His other hand sprawled across your back, and you knew he was testing his boundaries.

“Ryomen…” you warned, but it only made him break out into a full grin. His irises were drowning in lust and inebriation, and your own were falling in suit.

The hand on your hip dragged up further, until his fingers brushed over the string of your underwear. You scratched your nails down his chest, feeling your back arch into his palm as you mindlessly rolled your hips.

His lips moved to your ear, that mellifluous voice dangerously close. “Let’s play a game…”

He squeezed the fat of your hip, his weight lifting you up and the entire room spun as he pinned you underneath him when he switched your positions. He locked you against the plush sofa with his thighs, a throaty laugh coming through from your sudden squeak of surprise.

“Let’s see you try to get out of this one, Princess...” He teased, his teeth nipping at the side of your throat. “Or you’ll end up being my dinner…”

Your body vibrated from the sensation of his touch. You gripped his jaw firmly and pulled his face towards you, your brows furrowing at the proclamation of a challenge.

“It’s not fair to go against a boxing champion,” you argued, your spine curving as Sukuna slipped his other thigh between your legs.

He dropped his head to the base of your throat, his teeth catching the sensitive spot just above your collar bone, “don’t worry,” he soothed over the gentle bite, “I’ll play fair…”

“Don’t patronize me,” you grumbled through gritted teeth.

“You’re fault for waltzing into the dragon’s lair…” he alerted, quoting the very same line he used to when you would both play this silly fantasy game together.

But you’re not wielding plastic swords and entering into the enemies domain with a sense of courage. Now, it felt like playing with fire. Your skin was burning at the contact, at Sukuna’s weight over your throbbing body. When he nibbled on your neck again, your hand gripped onto the back of his head, tugging his hair a little roughly as you pulled him away.

Sukuna purred.

“You’ve never been able to beat me…” you teased, giving into the world of make believe just one more time but speaking the truth regarding this fact. “I’ve always been your biggest challenge…”

“Watch me win tonight,” he pushed with confidence, reaching for your wrist and pinning it above your head.

“And what are the rules here exactly?” You quipped, your tongue tingling and your body buzzing with excitement and curiosity. “Am I supposed to kill the dragon and win back my castle?”

Sukuna laughed, his eyes darkening as he pressed his forehead to yours once more.

“No need to draw any swords. Let’s play a game of submission…” he boldly claimed, and your attention flickered to find his brazen smile burning even brighter on his face. “First person to cum loses”

“Are you making a move on me?” You light heartedly disputed.

“Not at all,” Sukuna maintained, but you can tell from his tone that he’s veiling the truth.

There was something hard pressing up against you, and you had a feeling it was a nudge for some relief.

“It’s the dress isn’t it?” you giggle.

“If you even call it a dress…”

“Can’t handle a little skin?”

“I don’t want to shock you by telling you got me half hard just showing up,” he confessed, something unfolding in your drunken stupor.

“I can feel you…” you sighed, and the man hummed as he molded his body into you.

You felt him twitch, and it made your thighs tremble.

“We had too much champagne,” you informed.

“That we did”

“We should probably stop…” you exhaled, your lashes fluttering when you felt his thigh flex against your cunt.

“Do you want to?” Sukuna asks, his voice growing serious. His hand on your hip tugs at the string of your underwear, and he releases it with a snap as it pinches back against your skin.

You licked your lips, your brain too fuzzy to contradict what your heart wanted. “You know I will never back down from a challenge with you…”

“That's what I like about you,” Sukuna adoringly praises.

“And we both know you’re going to lose, right?”

Your throat shrinks, Sukuna’s hand gliding over your pubis to press the drenched spot against your underwear.

“Don’t underestimate me, Princess,” he advices ominously, “we’ve never played a game like this before.”

₊ ⊹ .

Clothes had to stay on - that was the rule you both agreed with.

To keep things fair.

To keep it…playful.

Your nipples pebbled, poking hard against the fabric of your dress as Sukuna sucked on the skin of your neck. You knew for a fact that he was leaving a mark there, and all you could do was bite back as his mouth trailed down the column and over the slope of your breast. You whimpered when he tugged at your clothed nipple with with his teeth, making the muscles in your leg seize from the sudden contact.

You had to do something, and so you reached your hand between your legs to lightly graze over his erection pressing against his sweats.

Sukuna groaned, and you sniggered at the reaction.

You lifted your head and neck, bringing your mouth to his own ear.

“You know,” you seductively stated, your fingers outlining the length of his hard member. “The first time I ever touched myself was after watching you practice in the ring…”

Sukuna cursed under his breath, your fingers squeezed around his length. You proceeded to stroke the heat of his member, striking hard for your first blow. “And I always do whenever I watch you fight. I get so hot and bothered seeing you in the ring. I even have a a specific vibrator I use…I named it after you…”

“Fucking hell,” he hissed when you snuck your hand underneath his waistband, bringing your touch even closer as you palmed him over his boxers.

“I’ve never told you that secret…” you declared, bringing your own teeth to his earlobe which you tugged mercilessly.

Sukuna lost himself for a moment, making you think this was going to be an easy win. But you heard him steady his breathing, could his muscles flexing as if to tame his own body back from giving in.

“I heard you once…” he stammered suddenly, closing his eyes as he recollected his memories. “Back when you were living in the dorm. I came over to drop off something, and you…ugh, fuck-…you were in the bathroom…moaning. I thought you were in pain at first, until I realized…”

Your own cheeks burned at his confession, the surprise making you ease your grip.

Sukuna grabbed your wrist then and pulled you away from his crotch. He placed it on your breast, and you absentmindedly pinched your nipple as he slid his hand between your legs. He lowered himself down, slithering underneath you and making your ears sting with vexation. He pushed your dress over your thighs, exposing your light colored underwear. The noticeable wet patch made his eyes glitter with satisfaction.

“I would have jacked off on the spot, but I left. I was clearly intruding on a private matter, but that didn’t stop me from blowing a load the second I made it to my place,” he carries on, bringing his nose and pressing it against your slit. “So fucking sweet…”

You tried to push his head away, and in response he dragged his tongue over the moist patch on your underwear.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, your hips bucking from the sensation.

“You’re the first person I think of when I touch myself,” he revealed, humming as his tongue lewdly licked over your underwear.

Your whole lower belly tingled, your arousal only slicking the fabric.

You needed to distract him from carrying on, but Sukuna hooked two fingers underneath your underwear and tugged them to the side.

You sat up on your forearms, pressing your thighs against his cheeks to stop him from diving in.

“Don’t cheat,” you sternly addressed, but Sukuna only scoffed vindictively.

“You’re still wearing them, Princess…” he pointed out, and the loophole made your core pulse with anticipation. “This isn’t cheating…”

With your panties tugged aside, Sukuna used two fingers to spread the lips apart.

He was staring at your pussy, studying it like it was the first one he’s ever looked at.

You wanted to say something, to ask what he was doing. But to your surprise he just placed a gentle kiss on your clit before murmuring sweetly into your sex. “You’re beautiful,” Sukuna complimented, as if expressing a blessing before a meal then finally dragging his wet tongue up along the slit of your exposed pussy.

“You’re ch-cheating…” was all you could think of blubbering out in the haze of lust, feeling the vibration of his laugh as he slung one of your legs over his shoulder.

It hits you then - the fact that this man indulges in going down on women. Though he never explicitly shared all the lewd details with his past partners, he did mention how it was “his favorite thing to do”. After all these years, you finally get to experience it for yourself. Feel how he latches onto your pussy as your arousal drips like he’s pouring honey out of the jar and slurping the sticky, creamy essence. You whine when he prods his tongue between your folds, expertly sliding the muscle as he rolls it in gentle waves to stir a budding orgasm. Your fingers intertwine around his locks, reading to yank him off until he slurps and sucks in just the right spot that has you simply massaging his scalp instead.

“…’kuna~…” you mewl, your nails dragging over his scalp.

The man circles his mouth over your tender clit, sucking on the bud before pressing another kiss on the nub.

Your pussy throbs when he pulls away, but you were proud for holding back.

It was your opportunity to distract him, and you shrugged off one of your straps to pull down your dress to expose your left breast. Sukuna’s attention flickered upward, watching you tweak at the hard nub as you gave him a shy grin.

“The felt really good,” you breathily whined.

He began crawling his way back up, and you used this opportunity to lift your body upright. He was distracted, wasn't even thinking about you finding a way out of this position. His lips instantly latched onto your nipple, his hands gripping the fat of your ass as he sucked on the point feverishly.

You licked your lips, doing everything in your power not to fall back into the black hole of his gripping dominance.

When he released you, you instantly pushed his back against the couch and climbed on top of him so you were safely straddling him again. You forcefully dragged your wet cunt over his erection, leaving a little trail of you to stain the fabric of his pants. Sukuna grunted with pleasure, bucking his hips as you ground yours.

“You’re not as sharp with me,” you giggled, languidly gliding your cunt over his begging member.

“Because you’re fucking distracting,” Sukuna grieves, his hands clenching into tight balls by his side as he refuses to grab onto your ass and push for more friction.

You felt him sink, using his shoulders as leverage to keep you perched in just the right position so your pussy was rubbing over his cock. You bit back a sound of pleasure from leaving you, and instead exhale softly as you continue rocking back and forth.

“You’re big everywhere aren’t you,” you tantalized, noting the way his jaw tense as a rumble erupted from his chest in a deep groan which morphed into a slightly sinister laugh.

“Let me show you.”

He lifted his hips, making you pause at the sudden awkward shift. He pushed his sweat pants down just to meet the end of his boxers. The removal of the first layer was a small relief, but your eyes widened as he settled back down. His erection was tenting, pressing up against the thin black material and making you see a clear distinction of his balls and thick shaft.

“Go on then,” he tempted.

Your could feel yourself getting wet. The tightness in your belly only contracting further.

You stared him down, knowing full well that he was manipulating you at that very moment.

“Why stop there?” You rebutted.

You helped pulled out the weight of his heavy cock from the restraint, watching his length smack against his lower belly as the tip dribbled with cum. Sukuna moaned when your thumb pressed against the slit, your touch dragging back and forth as you aligned yourself.

The sounds of your panting breaths were far too loud in this quiet room. You hesitated for a minute before lowering yourself, pressing the fat tip at your entrance. You gulped down air from the stretch alone, your arousal enough lubricant for your take him. You sank, your attention on Sukuna’s whose eyes were honed in on the point of contact of your sexes.

When your pelvis finally kiss his own, when your bodies were merged into one, you felt two hands seek your waist as you trembled in his arms.

Your dress had fallen back over, covering him buried inside you. You were looking up at him now as his chest rose to press yours.

A puzzle piece finally connecting.

He twitched inside you, and you clenched around his length, but neither of you moved. You forgot, for a moment, that this was just a game. That the two of you were probably going to wake up tomorrow morning not being able to face the other person. Your heart was racing, your body begging for movement but you couldn’t snap yourself out of the bold decision you already made.

Sukuna was looking deep into our eyes, the sparkle behind his own irises making you think of embers on winter night.

His hands slipped up your waist, over the curves of your breast and up on the length of your neck. He held your head between his palms, the tips of his thumbs lightly caressing your cheeks, with his fingers to the back of your neck. He tilted his head down slightly, his nose brushing against the bridge of yours and he did something that caught you entirely off guard.

His lips were warm on yours, the kiss the softest gesture you’ve ever experienced from him. He held a firm kiss at first, long enough until you were crumbling apart. You parted your mouth, granting him entrance and he swiped his tongue to lick the inside. He was tracing your own, his wet and wanting mouth only growing more hungry as you eagerly accepted his kiss. Your heart hammered heavily in your chest, and goosebumps peaked all over your skin when you felt his thumbs gently caress the soft skin of your cheeks.

You’ve never been kissed like this before. Never felt bursts of light erupt from behind your eyelids or your stomach explode with fireworks. This always just fun foreplay for you, but nothing that would make you quiver in heat. You almost came on the spot from this one little act that you’ve imagined since you were sixteen, the one which you thought would never occur because of an unspoken rule on boundaries. But it was finally happening, and it was far too magical for you to even comprehend.

He swallowed your moan, tasted how sweet your desire actually was. The kiss was getting heated, your walls tightening around his cock His lips wrapped around your tongue. He sucked on it, before sliding his own back over yours.

You felt so weak; were reminded that you truly were just a fragile thing in his arms and nothing more.

He pulled away, a string of saliva sticking from his lips to yours but you shook your head as you circled your hands around his wrists.

“More,” you cried desperately without thinking.

Sukuna smiled against your mouth and obliged.

You don’t know how long you both sat there making out. But every time he tried to pull you away you sighed “again,”, or moaned “don’t stop”. You didn’t even consider kissing to be an option on the table, but the more you were getting turned on the further your guard went down. Your hips started to bounce lightly, your pussy so bothered that it wanted some relief. You started fucking yourself over his length, your mouth battling with lips, teeth and tongue in a very heated stand off. Sukuna relaxed his body against the sofa, noticing you melt over him like you were wax. Your hips were moving up and down, your tongue languidly rolling around his mouth. You could feel Sukuna moving with you, bucking his hips in return. His jerks were growing sharper, his hands dropping back down to your hips to keep you in place. Your foreheads were touching, lips parting, panting heavily as you climbed and higher. The two of you were lost in the moment, forgetting everything else that led up to this.

You were going to lose this one, you thought, and you didn’t even care.

Your head was spinning, your heart bursting, and you reached to hold his jaw in your hand out of desperation, hoping that by clinging to him it meant that you wouldn’t disappear into the haze of it all. Entirely overwhelmed by the feeling, by this particular connection, your eyes started to water, with tears falling as your nose grew stuffy.

“Ryomen~” you begged, your dulcet voice full of affection. The tip of his cock hit your sweetest spot and at that point you knew you were done for.

But Sukuna jerked his hips, the groan that ripped out of him made your belly spasm. He pulled out fast, shooting his cum all over you. Your orgasm collapsed into you just seconds after, and the two of you were shaking against one another as you tried to reorient yourselves to the present.

You were a mess, and so was he.

Two hands found your thighs as your torso collided into his. You placed one hand on the base of his neck, and rested your cheek against the crook.

“You lost,” you joked with a sniffle, because you were unsure what to say, and because you realized you had just fucked your best friend and had no idea what that meant.

Sukuna just grinned, flashing you a knowing smile and a devilish smirk.

He perched your chin under his fingers, tapping the end sweetly.

“Doesn’t feel like I did,” he breathed, and your eyes glittered once more.

You arched up to kiss his cheek, “I didn’t know a dragon could kiss this well…”

Sukuna chuckled, bumping the tip of his nose to yours affectionately as he tilted his head down. “I’ve had time to practice.”

You sighed into another kiss, “What did we do, Ryomen?”

“Something we should have done a long time ago…” he responded in between.

“You love me…” you breathed.

“And you’re surprised?” He interrupted with another kiss.

“I don’t know what that means…”

He nipped at your bottom lip. “It means what it means. I love you. Fuck, enough that I nearly fucking came inside you without thinking. You haven’t been around and I feel like I've lost my goddamn mind in just a year…”

Your nails dragged down his chest your heart leaping its way up your throat.

“I love you too,” you revealed. “I love you, Ryomen. And I missed you too."

You both fell asleep on the sofa, waking up the next morning and replaying the events of your drunken stupor. After you both cleaned up and showered, you had a serious conversation over two cups of coffee. Though, you aren’t quite sure how "serious" it was, considering that Sukuna had you sitting on his lip while you were gently stroking his hair.

He revealed that the reason why he didn’t tell you about his return was also partially due to the fact that he was leaving that very night to hop on plane and fly halfway across the world. He couldn't bring himself to see you for only a short stint when he knew he needed far more time together after everything.

“Uraume is right,” he bitterly admitted, “You are a big distraction for me right now, and I have to be in the right headspace for this fight with Gojo”

“You sound worried,” you pointed out with a furrow of your brows, your hands dragging back his locks as you threaded your digits between the strands to push his hair back from his forehead.

“If he beats me then I am done,” Sukuna blurted, “what I have built will diminish into nothing. I can’t lose to him. It’ll cost me my career…”

Disappointment wrapped its arms around you just as Sukuna loosened his own grip. But you could hear the hint of tiny, tiny fear behind his words was enough to you feel hollow. Sukuna has never felt threatened, but this was a serious fight for him. He’s worked so hard for all of this, and he was not willing to give it up to some punk who just shot into the scene.

“Why don’t we revisit this after the fight then?” You offered.

He glanced at you.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." you exhaled, "what if maybe we just need to wait a little longer before we allow ourselves to have this..."

Sukuna paused for a moment. “You’d wait for me?” He asked.

A smile ticks at the corner of your mouth. “Yes, because you always come back to me”

“That I do” he responds

You brush your fingers under his chin, tilting it upward once more to receive another kiss. “I’ll wait for you,” you ensure. "Because I'll always come back to you too."

₊ ⊹ .

One hand slides into the front pocket of your denim skirt, and Sukuna rests his chin on top of your head. You smile to yourself, though he can’t see it, because he’s busy watching you slice bits of fruit as you place it into one of his ceramic bowls. When you were kids, Sukuna would have to look around your arm whenever he hugged you from behind. The years show the evolution of this gesture, from him suddenly perching over your shoulder until he could simply see over your crown.

He sighs, his other arm curling over your belly as he embraces you.

“Don’t add the blueberries,” he mumbles.

You oblige, your back leaning into the breadth of his chest.

The two of you haven’t touched one another since that faithful night.

Up until the fight, you and Sukuna simply returned back to the way things used to be. Except this time there were little alterations in your day to day conversations that indicated a shift.

For one, Sukuna was a flirt.

You were use to this commentary, but now that your friendship has taken a turn you find your cheeks growing heated more often around him because his words weren't gray. What he says toward you, and the way he compliments you rings very, very true. There is also a deep tenderness for one another that you both are finally allowing to express freely. You don't dull your affection, and instead allow it to overflow. And last of all, the longing to be back together was pathetically obvious.

You placed the strawberries, sliced peaches and peeled oranges into the bowl, your fingers a little tacky. “I need to wash my hands,” you indicate, and Sukuna begrudgingly releases you from his hold.

You’re surprised that he didn’t pounce on you so quickly.

The two of you only had one other sexual moment just a few months ago.

Sukuna video called you one evening, his face tight with frustration.

He was exhausted from training, and even more drained by the press.

They were claiming that his new “pumped physique” was due to steroid use, and one little rumor had the representatives of the boxing association hounding him like he was a real culprit in this make believe story. Suddenly, his hard work and training was being reduced to the thing that the press claimed him to be: a cheater.

He called you to ensure you that everything was alright. That he was forced to take tests which all came out negative (obviously) and and effectively proved his innocence.

“I can’t wait to be home,” he breathed with annoyance. “I’m fucking sick of this shit…”

You were in the bathroom getting ready for bed, gently patting your moisturizer onto your face. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” you stated, offering him only an apology because it's all you could give. “Is there something I can do to make you feel better?”

Sukuna arched his brow, his attention hovering in front of the screen.

“Yeah, you can take off that robe you’re wearing…” he teased.

You jerked your head to the camera in surprise, noting his cheeky tone.

“Ha-ha…” you remarked.

“I’m being serious,” he answered back, his mouth dropping into an instant frown. “I’ve had a shitty day, and I can’t even do the one thing I want to help me relax…”

You arched your brow. “And what might that be?”

He revealed his canines, a wolfish grin brightening that handsome face. “Fucking my girl...”

Your heart thumped, and you swallowed the sudden tightness in your throat. You picked up your lip balm and dabbed your finger into the ointment before gliding it over your bottom lip.

“Your girl, huh?” You reiterated casually, hoping that Sukuna wouldn’t quite pick up on the catch in your throat.

“You’re always my girl, even when you weren’t mine to call that…” he added softly, his voice pulling your attention back towards him.

He wasn’t kidding around, with the look on his face entirely serious. The tips of your ears stung with a heat that you couldn’t explain, and you just had the sudden urge to reach through the screen and pull his face back towards you.

You wanted to kiss him, to tell him that you always felt like you belonged to him too.

The two of you an inseparable pair for a reason.

Instead, you stripped down to reveal your naked form. You perched the camera towards the back for a wider shot, and allowed your body to speak to Sukuna instead. One of your legs was resting on the bathroom sink, the other grounding you on the floor. You had the camera facing your cunt, with your fingers buried deep inside. But it was nothing compared to the stretch of Sukuna’s digits, wasn’t filling you enough to reach you to the pleasurable climax you desired.

“It’s not enough,” you gasped in between breaths, watching Sukuna passionately jerk off from he other side of the screen, “Need you, ‘kuna~” you whined, “it’s not enough with you…”

The memory hits you, making your lower belly tighten.

You dry your hands off to face him, only to find the man standing with an expression of guilt on his face.

The same concern you had earlier when you left the elevator reappeared once more.

You pick up the fruit bowl from the counter, trying your best not to give the discomfort attention. You offer Sukuna a strawberry, lifting it towards his mouth but he instantly circles his hand around your wrist and pulls it back down.

“I need to tell you something,”

You scrunch your brows, and place the fruit bowl back onto the counter.

“What’s wrong?”

Sukuna closes his eyes, a look of shame washing over him.

You take a step closer, wrap both arms around his waist and rest your chin on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” You repeat, coaxing him to speak.

“I nearly threw the fight tonight.”

You jerk your head up in shock, your lips parting as your jaw falls from the confession.

“You…what?”

Sukuna rubs his tired face with one hand, using every ounce of courage to look back at you.

“There was a moment in the ring when Satoru threw a relatively decent punch,” he explains, “I had the lights knocked out of me for a split second. When I turned to face him it hit me then...that I could fake dodging his next attack before giving him the opening that he needs to win. One more hit and I’d...collapse. Let the referee do his count, and that would be it…”

You knew the exact moment he was referring to. It was the point in the match where your ears were ringing because you truly thought that you would be witnessing a loss on Sukuna's part. The entire crowd was muttering in shock, all of them on the precipice of a potential shift in legacy.

“I didn’t follow through because I think Satoru noticed a change in my demeanor. It was only a few seconds, but the kid is fucking sharp. He wasn't smugly determined then, he was looking at me with...confusion. I couldn't do it then. I didn't want him to get a cop out on my end. So, I carried on the fight the way I would. After the match, I thought I could just let the moment pass but Uraume tried to bring it up later and I shut it down because I didn't want to admit it. Anyway, I needed to just get it off my chest…”

“You were going to give him that win?” You expressed with deep concern, tightening your hold around his waist as you watched Sukuna’s face to turn hard.

It hits you then - that the Champ, The Monster of The Ring, The Beast and King Himself was…burnt out. Sukuna’s fire had been gone for quite some time, you just thought it would reignite after tonight.

But it didn't.

You bring your hands to his biceps and caress your palms up and down.

“Ryomen,” you speak, licking your lips with hesitation before finally asking. “Is this what you still want?”

Contemplative eyes meet yours as his palms find both your cheeks. He drops his head down, his lips seeking yours as he takes into account the gash on the muscle, then places a careful kiss on your mouth.

“I just want you,” he hums.

“M’right here,” you murmur back, “Not going anywhere.”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he adds on, “that’s all I could think about during the fight. Was just coming home to you, coming home to us…”

A shiver runs down your back, but your body vibrates with an innocent excitement. “We don’t have to wait anymore,” you whisper. “I’m not going anywhere no matter what happens. No matter what comes next…”

Sukuna looks at you then, knowing full well what your statement means.

Once news breaks out of the two of you being an actual item, heaven knows what might happen. If the paparazzi have been plaguing Sukuna like a curse this whole time, it was only going to get even more complicated with you so intimately intertwined in his world. And now that he was back on top as the champion, he knew full well that all eyes were going to remain on him.

From when he was a child, no matter what he believed about his life that would deter you from him. His broken home wasn't enough to push you. His anger wasn't enough to push you. His detachment wasn't enough to push you. The chaos that is his world wasn't enough to push you.

You have always remained solidly by his side.

His constant. The only thing in the world that he can rely on.

“I love you,” he states under his breath, leaning in to peck you for a second time.

“I love you too,” you repeated with a smile against his lips.

There was no epic moment around this sober reveal, no exceptional circumstance other than the privacy of it being spoken with no one else to hear it other than the two of you.

You loved one another, in the deepest possible way you could love a person. From there your lips parted, and you carefully kissed the man before you as he scooped you up in his arms.

He repeated the phrase again when he placed you on the kitchen counter, with his fingers buried deep within the folds of your wet pussy.

You moaned it back to him after he carried you into his bedroom, with your fists tangled between his hair as he ate you out.

He grunted it out one last time, with his hand gripping the headboard as he watched your body melt into the matters when he thrusted his dick in and out of you as he made love to you feverishly.

And you mumbled it back one last time while he held you in his arms, the two of you falling asleep from a very long night of unbridled passion.

Sukuna was the first to wake at the crack of dawn. He rolled over to grab his phone from the side table in an attempt to turn off his alarm before it woke you up as well. As he looked at the device, his heart sank.

A number of notifications were blowing up his phone and it was making him feel dizzy.

News articles were already painting him in all his glory after his fight with Satoru, with his opponent looking battered in defeat. The press had finally flipped, and suddenly began to revere him the way he deserved to be. There were text messages from an influx of people, either congratulating him or wanting get his thoughts on the match. Sukuna feels the tremor in his hand build as he starts to scroll through the notifications.

He places the device on the blanket in front of him, his eyes looking out to the large windows as he watches the sky shift from a deep violet to a lilac blue. He turns this head to gaze at you. This image of you by his side, in a position that he’s seen multiple times in his life, feels different now too. The soft glow of new daylight washes over your body, and the stillness of the hour has him believing that he actually made it to heaven. Sukuna places a soft kiss on your forehead, then carefully kicks off the blankets. He searches for his boxers, then pulls on the pair before stepping out into his balcony.

He calls Uraume.

Usually they pick up quick, but Sukuna counts down the rings until they do.

“My King,” they tease, their voice a little groggy. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Sukuna watches a bird fly across the horizon, the ease in his chest an affirmation to what he’s about to say.

“I’m retiring,” he announces. “I’m done.”

The silence hangs in the air, streaks of orange and yellow begin to tint the clouds.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that…”

“is that why it took you long to answer my call?”

Uraume huffs out a laugh. “I guess I was hoping for another piece of news…”

“Are you mad?” Sukuna asks, only honoring Uraume with his worry because he knows how much they have done for him to begin with.

Uraume sighs, “I’m not actually. It’s the smartest decision you can make. You retire now and you basically leave the game while sitting at the top. You’ve earned that throne, and it won’t be easy for these rookies to take it from you so quickly…”

Sukuna chuckles, “you’re right about that…”

Uraume lets the quiet overtake the conversation. “I’ll give it a few days before I break the news to the press.”

“And then what?”

“There’s definitely going to be a lot of interviews, and a retirement party that you will have to attend wether you like it or not…”

“And what about you?”

Uraume hums, “You and I had a good run. If it’s the end for you, then I guess I can finally retire too..”

Sukna furrows his brows, his nails scratch over the rail on his balcony. “I don’t want you doing that because of me…”

Uraume laughs, “You’ve earned my loyalty, what can I say?”

“Thank you,” Sukuna breathes, “For everything you’ve done for me. You’re more than just a manager, but I think you already know that...”

“I know it,” Uraume answers back. “And I also know that this is the right decision because you sound…relieved.”

He hears you then.

You were calling out to him, “‘kuna, where are you?~”

He turns his back to face the railing, missing the sun breaking through the horizon at the sound of your voice. He smiles thinking about the adorable, frustrated look on your face when you probably reached out and couldn’t find him, and he slowly begins making his approach back into his bedroom.

“I am,” he speaks to Uraume, “I’ve got to go. Will talk about this later.”

He hangs up the phone, and returns to the shadow of deep, restful slumber. He places the phone back on his side table, and smiles at the exact disappointed expression that he pictured when he was outside.

The second you feel his warmth back in your presence, you snuggle up into his frame.

“Where did you go?” You mumble with a yawn, and Sukuna wraps his strong arms around you as he nestles back into your body.

“Nowhere,” he breathes, easing back into your embrace.

“Heard you talking,” you add on, you eyes still shut but your arm slinking around his neck to keep him close.

It’s taken you both over two decades to get here, and he wasn’t going to allow anything to come in the way of that. “I’ll tell you about it later,” he reassures, keeping his loving eyes on you as he clutches onto his bright, new future with his favorite person.

A life that you both will now get to live in peaceful happiness.

₊ ⊹ .

:note: hi, everyone! long form fics has been really draining for me these days but these one shots feel like a great refresher. I know this is a monster of a fic, but I hope you enjoy the story. comments and reblogs are appreciated!

tags (only tagging those who asked): @after-laughter-come-tears @not-9ok @axxk17 @sukubusss @lavenderdaydream97 @charlie-xo @kunasthiast @celestep004 @brownskinnedgirll @sukunasweetheart @kunascutie @joontroverted @emi311 @yuujispinkhair @starmapz @bellyei

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x y/n #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna #jjk fanfics

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chastiefoul · 2 months ago

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kiss your best friend and see his reaction!

ft. nanami kento, gojo satoru, geto suguru, sukuna, toji fushiguro modern/no-curse au | fluff, light-hearted

basically the kiss ur best friend challenge/trend and it went a little too well

➝ gojo satoru

he hadn't been confused when you told him you needed him for a short video, since that’s already a part of his job description anyway as your best friend for as long as he remembered. but when you started the recording without saying anything satoru looked at you with a tilted head, expression beyond confused.

“wait, why am i supposed to do her-“

your sudden kiss drowned his question promptly, his eyes widened at the touch of your soft lips. the touch that he’s been dreaming of since who knows when—and gods it didn’t even come close to the real thing. a sensation that made him feel like he’s walking on clouds, and is currently devouring something that’s even sweeter than his mochis. he grinned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist pressing your body close on his before spinning you around slowly out of excitement, his hair brushing your forehead ticklishly.

satoru didn’t stop—he’s not willing to stop, as if that was the only chance he had to taste your lips. he had to forced himself to pull away, his eyes in a haze; looking at you like a man who's drunk in love, his mouth agape.

“that’s—i, it’s unreal. you’re unreal. do you know how long i’ve been wanting to do that?”

he brushed a hand over your lower lip, a man who’s so desperate already wanting to go in for seconds. now that he knew how you taste, he became insatiable.

“no, tell me.” you smiled, feeling kinda stupid for even thinking that he’d reject your kiss when he’s acting like a lovesick fool instead; a mirror of how you’re acting, you’re sure. “you have no idea,” he replied, already kissing you again as if it hurt to pull away.

➝ suguru geto

“so i’m supposed to just stand here?” he eyed you suspiciously, searching for answer from someone who usually had a detailed instructions to prevent him from making mistakes in making your videos— even resorting light threats.

you hit the record button while wearing an easy smile, even though your chest was practically about to burst from the nerves. you approached him slowly, folding your hands on the back of his neck to stop them from shaking slightly.

suguru hasn’t catch on to what you’re doing, leaning closer instead. you stared at his handsome face before planting a kiss on his lips, and it caught him off guard for only a second before he reciprocated the move, the most passionate you’ve ever seen him. his arm around your back, the other on your waist, grabbing it like it’s his last lifeline.

your tongues dancing against each other, as if fighting who had been waiting for it more. and it went on for a while, no one came out as a winner but no one was complaining. both of you stared at each other, his hand rubbing your back lovingly.

“is this why you looked nervous just now, sweet girl?” he smiled endearingly as you nodded. “as if you don’t already know you have me wrapped around your finger,” he said lightly, couldn’t even entertain the idea of him rejecting you since it’s so ridiculous. “well you’re a closed book, sugu. it’s hard to read you sometimes,” you claimed, resting your head on his chest.

“then one thing you have to know about me is that your kiss was one of my dream come true.”

“one of?” you asked, narrowing your eyes. “kiss me again and find out, pretty girl.”

➝ nanami kento

the blond man looked as stiff as a board in front of your phone camera, not quite used to it despite him always end up agreeing to your whims albeit reluctant. “do i need to do something here? some sort of dance again perhaps?” he asked, wincing at the latter sentence as he remembering last week where he made himself a fool.

“no no, just stand there, ken,” you said, pressing the red button on the screen before going back to the man. “alright-“ he didn’t have a moment to prepare himself when you kissed him suddenly, and it took everything out of nanami to keep his knees to stay still and support his weight properly.

a kiss that took his breath away, an inconvenience that he’ll welcome anytime, anywhere. his hand instinctively reach for the skin under your ear, holding your jaw to deepen the kiss, not close of having enough of you.

camera be damned, every part of his body was a natural at the feeling of your lips, rolling his face to taste every inch of you; the usual reserve in his gestures were nowhere to be found, as if he had finally let himself be selfish for a moment.

nanami finally managed to pull away before slowly realizing that he’s still on record. everything was.yet he couldn’t find a part of him that could let go of you, his thumb brushing over your cheek gently. “you could have... told me before doing that,” he said, his tone was not deceiving anyone; that’s a man without regrets.

“and miss the chance to catch you off guard?” you grinned.

“you’re a handful, do you know that?” he said with a little sigh, wearing the widest smile you’ve ever seen him with.

“yet you kissed me.”

“yes, and and i was not even close to being done,” nanami replied, leaning in.

➝ sukuna

“what is it today?” he said exasperatedly, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. and he would be, if it wasn’t for you following him around until he agreed to be in your video. “just stand there kuna, it’s easy right?” you said, setting up your phone despite the turmoil you’re currently experiencing.

you’re about to kiss your best friend. you’re about to kiss sukuna.

“knowing you i can’t even trust that even for a second,” he said grumpily. “really appreciate the enthusiasm,” you said rolling your eyes. “c’mere and start already.” and you did, even when he eyed every single of your move with suspicion, wondering what mischief you’re up to that day.

you cupped his face and he lets you, as you captured his lips with a kiss. and he lets you do that too.

and sukuna could not be more enthusiastic even if he tried, his mouth moved faster than his mind, who’s still registering the fact that you’re really kissing him. his lips stringing you along to the march of his drum. that’s a man who has been depraved of your kiss, even though he had never experienced it, his hunger was as clear as a day.

he deepened the kiss by taking another angle, the impact made you walk two steps behind before he put a hand around your neck, holding you close. he groaned when you pull away, chasing your lips like a madman.

“wait.” you panted, and sukuna did in fact wait albeit hanging on his last thread. his forehead resting against yours. “what?”

“i—it’s just, this is new.”

“then we better get used to it fast,” he replied quickly, his patience reached its end; ten seconds. he parted your lips with his thumb, when that met no resistance from you who’s as eager as he was he leaned back in, beyond ready to have another best kiss he’s had for his entire life.

➝ toji

“toji, please look like you want to be here,” you pleaded, seeing his nonchalant expression who had just finished yawning for the nth time in just ten minutes. “i don’t know how that’s like,” he said uninterested. “just a minute and you’ll be free,” you sighed, worried that his low energy wasn’t a good sign.

oh how you were wrong.

the moment your lips brushed against his toji had the biggest grin before kissing you back passionately. his hands roamed at your sides, all the way to the behind of your thighs. you understood what he meant as you jumped and wrapped both legs around him, he supported your weight effortlessly.

you gripped his hair as you held him closer—as close as you could be, escalating the kiss even more before you both reluctantly pull away, still panting.

there’s an annoying smile on toji’s face. “so how long have you been holding that in hm?”

“too long. now shut up and kiss me again.”

“atta girl, don’t gotta tell me twice.”

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sukumna · 2 months ago

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NEED to see gojo and toji with a good girl. maybe you can do how they react to having the opposite. only if you want 😋

┌─ .✦ WITH THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT THEY PREFER part one

characters. multi jjk.

authors note. I too wanted to see gojo with a good girl. so here you go angel face! also i couldn’t come up with a better word than ‘prefer’ 😭 BUT WHATEVER YOU ARE!! THEY PREFER YOU

✦ — gojo satoru, with a good girl.

at first, he’s amused. like really? no fight? no attitude? but once he sees how sincerely you want to please him, something inside him shifts—gets more gooey and slow. he likes corrupting you. his praise is so filthy it’s practically degrading. whispers sweet things after he break you. in the end though he’s the love drunk one. “fuck—you’re really letting me do whatever I want… you’re dangerous, baby.”

✦ — geto suguru, with a brat.

he laughs when you act out. he likes watching you throw a tantrum. he breaks you down with patience by using rope and eye contact. keeps you restrained and aching until you beg him to take control again. he’s not mad. he’s disappointed—and that’s worse. “are you done embarrassing yourself, or do you need help remembering your place?”

✦ — naoya zenin, with a brat.

he’s pissed. his ego demands respect and you decide to challenge him? he snaps. he doesn’t get flustered though—he gets mean. “you think mouthing off makes you strong? pathetic.” grabs your jaw, fucks you face-down ass up, makes you cry for being disrespectful. every bratty act gets met with punishment until you learn to bow. he won’t stop until you’re trembling and whimpering his name.

✦ — toji fushiguro, with a good girl.

your obedience catches him off guard. but once you obey without question? he gets mean in the most delicious way. he tests just how far your obedience goes by fucking you like he hates you. imagine his surprise when he sees his good girl taking the rough pounding like it’s love. “tch. so fuckin’ obedient… bet you’d let me ruin you and still thank me.”

✦ — nanami kento, with a brat.

visibly annoyed. the glasses come off and the sleeves roll up. but deep down? he enjoys putting you back in place by edging you for hours so he gives you rules he knows you’ll break. he’s known for being calm and clinical, but underneath that? he’s filthy. you don’t act out for a while after he’s done. “I suggest you get it out of your system now.”

✦ — sukuna ryomen, with a good girl.

he thinks it’s boring—until he realizes how much power he has. a girl who worships him? you become his entirely. calls you his little worshipper. makes you beg for his cruelty—and calls it love. “you’d kneel for me without even being told? fuck. I could do anything to you.”

✦ — choso kamo, with a good girl.

he’s… stunned. like emotionally overwhelmed. this soft, obedient energy? he doesn’t know what to do with it. he gets so gentle with you and your body but later? he starts testing—just a little roughness, a little teasing—trying to see if you’ll still be good. and when you are? he falls harder. calls you his girl in the softest voice you’ve ever heard. “you… trust me? just like that?”

#sukumna.#gojo x reader #gojo smut #choso x reader #choso smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #nanami x reader #nanami smut #toji x reader #toji smut #geto x reader #geto smut

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cumironi · 2 months ago

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I’VE GOT YOU, BABY jjk men

feat. gojo geto nanami toji sukuna shiu higuruma

sum. they thought it would be a normal night. playful bickering, eat dinner together, maybe makeout session while you two are giggling like a lovesick fool. but heart cancer? stage 3? yeah, not on their bingo cards.

warning. non-sorcerer jjk men! 23 you & 31 them, established relationships, heart cancer, death mentioned, bit angst to comfort, fluff, and not very heart warming.

GOJO SATORU

he was supposed to be in meeting.

supposed to be.

but instead he was dramatically sprawled on the couch in your apartment, shirt half-buttoned, socks mismatched, one leg hanging off the edge like he was modeling for an early 2000s teen magazine. blue eyes flicked up from your coffee table, where your textbooks were open and your laptop screen glowed with your thesis draft. he had the attention span of a goldfish, and you were used to it by now. what you weren’t used to was the man pausing mid-ramble about how coffee shops should have loyalty programs that give hugs instead of free drinks, the moment you slid the envelope across the table toward him.

“what’s this? did you finally write me a love letter?” he grinned, picking it up and waving it. “wait—let me guess, you’ve confessed your undying love for my devastatingly good looks and impeccable fashion sense. i knew the mismatched socks would win you over.”

you smirked, resting your chin in your hand. “close,” you said. “just my medical results. fun lil update from my body.”

he blinked. the paper unfolded in his hands, and for once, he was quiet. his eyes moved faster than usual. you could feel the shift in the air. from playful to something dense. cold. heavy.

he read the words again.

“stage 3, heart cancer… twenty-four percent chance to live…”

“i know, right? guess my cells just got bored of behaving,” you laughed. it was too loud. too sudden. too wrong. “could be 24% chance or survival. maybe 50%. depending on how charming i am in the oncology department.”

you force a shaky laugh. “guess i must’ve loved you too much. my heart couldn’t take it.”

for a beat, there’s nothing. nothing.

it’s a joke. a bad one. a last-ditch attempt to soften the punch. your eyes betray you anyway — tears sparkle at the corners like broken glass, and the tremble in your fingers doesn’t go unnoticed.

“shut up,” he whispered. not in his usual joking way. his voice cracked at the edge, like he’d bitten into something sour and was trying not to spit it out.

you shrugged, crossing your legs like you were just talking about the weather. “i’m still hot though, right? at least if i kick the bucket, i’m going down with great cheekbones.”

“no. nope. return to sender. i don’t accept this bullshit,” he murmurs, voice cracking through the sarcasm. “you don’t get to pull the tragic heroine card on me. that’s my thing.”

you try to laugh. “so dramatic…”

“i’m the drama. not you. you’re the soft, pretty, sunshine type who cries during dog movies and hogs the bed. you’re not allowed to die. i won’t allow it. i’ll— i’ll—”

“you’ll what, kiss it better?” you tease.

“why the fuck would you joke about this?” his voice rose. panic behind the volume. the paper in his hand crumpled a little.

“because if i don’t, i’ll start crying,” you replied, softer now. looking at him with tired eyes. “and i really, really don’t wanna cry in front of you. you’d never let me live it down.”

“you idiot,” he breathed out, standing up so fast the coffee table shook. his hands were trembling. he paced once. twice. then suddenly dropped to his knees in front of you like gravity had yanked him down.

“you’re not going to die,” he said. like a promise. like a threat to the universe. “i’ll fight death himself. with my sunglasses. and sarcasm. and maybe a bazooka.”

you blinked. “you don’t know that.”

he grabbed your hands, clutching them so tightly you could feel how cold his were. “you think you can drop something like this on me and then just—laugh about it? you think that’s fair? i love you, you dumbass.”

you looked down at him. this ridiculous, beautiful man kneeling like you’d just proposed marriage instead of dropped a medical bombshell.

you sniff, smile crookedly. “i love you too.”

he grins, forehead pressed to yours. “good. you’ll fit right in with the chaos i’ve got planned for your recovery. step one: we replace your heart with mine. step two: we break into a hospital and demand glitter IVs. step three: we live. got it? we’re gonna fight this. i don’t care if i have to bribe, blackmail, or bend space-time — you’re staying with me. you’re not allowed to leave.”

you choke out a laugh against his shoulder. “that’s a pretty bold threat to make to the universe.”

“you think i won’t square up with the universe?” he pulls back, eyes shining with something wild and terrified and real. “i’ll fight fate with one hand and spoon-feed you pudding with the other.”

you look at him, tears falling freely now, and he smiles — a little broken, a little soft.

“besides,” he adds, voice trembling as he kisses the corner of your mouth, “you still owe me like, twenty dates. and my hoodies back.”

he stared at you.

you smiled. a little cracked. a little crooked. “worth it.”

“i swear to god,” he growled, burying his face in your lap. “if you die, i’m haunting your ghost just to yell at you.”

you ran your fingers through his hair. soft. familiar. he was shaking. he didn’t want you to see. “you’re not going to die,” he whispered again, like if he repeated it enough times, it would rewrite your diagnosis.

“but if i do,” you said gently, voice steady for both of you, “please keep wearing mismatched socks for me. preferably ugly ones. the uglier, the better.”

he lifted his head and kissed your knuckles. then your palm. then your wrist. like he could map your pulse, hold onto it, anchor it. i’m gonna annoy every doctor on this planet if that’s what it takes,” he muttered. “i’m gonna sit in every waiting room and argue with every nurse and—”

“you’re already annoying,” you smiled, brushing tears off his cheek. “just keep being you, toru. okay?”

he choked out a laugh. a real one. raw and messy and breaking. “yeah,” he said, pulling you into his arms. “okay. but just so you know—if you think i’m gonna let you go without a fight, you’re really underestimating how stubborn i am.”

and you believed him.

because it was satoru gojo.

and he was chaos and comfort and love in human form.

GETO SUGURU

you didn’t expect him to come over tonight.

he had been buried in work lately—endless stacks of logistics and community events and trying to solve the world’s problems like he didn’t already carry the weight of it on his shoulders. so when he texted you “omw. bring that pouty face I like,” you assumed he was just being his usual flirty self. nothing serious.

you didn’t expect to be sitting on your bedroom floor in an oversized hoodie with a manila envelope on your lap, legs tucked beneath you, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you heard the familiar knock-knock-knock. two beats, then one. his rhythm.

he walked in with a drink carrier balanced in one hand and a bouquet of flowers that looked like they were arranged by a man who walked into the shop and said “whatever she’ll like, just make it look expensive.” his eyes lit up the second they saw you, and he gave you that half-lidded smile that made it look like he knew every secret about you.

“what’s with the envelope, babe?” he asked as he kicked his shoes off and slid beside you on the floor. “you trying to sue me for being too good-looking? because guilty as charged.”

you snorted. “nah, i’d win that case against gojo way faster.”

“mm, true.” he nudged your knee with his. “what is it then?”

you clear your throat and drop the letter dramatically on the floor next to him like it’s a bomb. “got a broken heart. me. officially. medically. romantically tragic.”

geto raises a brow, gaze drifting from the letter to you. “did i forget an anniversary again? that sounds serious.”

giving him a lazy smile. “worse. i’m in a love triangle with death and a statistics chart.”

you handed it over. said nothing after.

he cocked an eyebrow but took it. slid the letter out like he was opening one of your essays. started reading.

his smile dropped.

his breath caught.

and for once—suguru geto didn’t say anything.

he finished the page. eyes moving over the last line again. and again. his fingers curled around the edge of the letter so tightly it crinkled.

you felt like vomiting.

“stage 3, heart cancer,” you said lightly. like it was the weather. like you’d just found out the vending machine was out of your favorite chips. “only twenty-five percent chance of making it. which is still, like, a quarter! that’s one out of four. i’ve played worse odds at those arcade claw machines. like flipping a coin with feelings.”

“don’t—” his voice was hoarse. “don’t joke about this.”

“why not?” you forced a grin. “i thought you liked my dark humor.”

he turned to you so fast, your smile faltered.

“i do,” he said, barely a whisper. “but not when it’s hiding how scared you are.”

and that was the worst part. the way he saw through you. you looked away. bit your tongue. tried to force another joke but your throat closed up and it never made it out. “you should be crying,” he said softly. “you should be screaming. you should be throwing things or cursing god or making me carry you everywhere like a princess.”

“yeah well,” you mumbled. “you’ve always liked me better when i’m quiet.”

“don’t say that.” his hand cupped your cheek, turning your face toward him. “don’t ever say that.”

you blinked. his thumb wiped away something you didn’t realize had fallen.

“baby—”

“i’m going to be here for all of it,” he said firmly. his voice steady, even if his hands trembled. “chemo. surgeries. crying fits. mood swings. i’ll buy you every stupid snack craving you have, i’ll hold your hair back if you puke, i’ll even let satoru come over if you’re bored enough to tolerate him.”

“wow,” you said, voice thick. “must really love me if you’re willing to suffer through that.”

he laughed, but it cracked halfway through. he leaned in and kissed your forehead. your nose. your cheeks. slow. deliberate. like he was memorizing your face before the world dared to change it.

“you’re the love of my life,” he murmured against your skin. “and i don’t care what percentage the doctors give. you’re not leaving me.”

you tried to joke again. to keep it light. but when he pulled you into his arms and held you like you were made of glass and might disappear if he didn’t hold tight enough—

you broke.

and he just let you.

silent. steady. his hand rubbing circles into your back. his voice a whisper. “i’ve got you, baby. every step. every breath. we’re fighting this. together.”

NANAMI KENTO

he was never one for surprises.

nanami lived his life in clean lines and structured time—an adult in every sense of the word. the kind of man who folded his clothes before bed, who ironed your uniforms when you were too tired, who always had a clock running in his head. you were chaos in comparison. soft blankets thrown over chairs, tea mugs with lipstick smudges left by your bedside, textbooks covered in doodles. yet somehow, you and him had always fit together like an odd, unlikely pair.

tonight, he showed up exactly at 7:00 p.m.

punctual, like always.

“i brought you dinner,” he said, holding up two paper bags. “i made sure it’s from that place you like with the spicy tofu you claim doesn’t make you cry but always does.”

you smiled, opening the door wider for him. “ah, you remembered. see? you do love me.”

he gave you a flat look, setting the bags on your kitchen counter. “i tell you every day. if you need evidence beyond that, i can start writing it down in your planner.”

“ooh, planner declarations of love? sounds sexy.”

he gave a soft, almost-smile. you could tell he’d had a long day. the way he rolled his sleeves up, undid the top two buttons of his shirt, and sighed like he was finally somewhere safe. you wanted so badly to keep it peaceful. to let him enjoy one evening without—

but the envelope sat on the kitchen table. taunting you.

“ken,” you said softly, “before we eat… can you read something?”

his brow furrowed. “is this another one of your thesis drafts? i told you i am not proofreading any more literary analyses about how tragic men are secretly hot—”

“it’s not,” you said, quieter this time.

he walked over. saw the envelope. took it wordlessly.

you watched him read. nanami read carefully—line by line. never skimmed. never rushed. so it took longer. you could hear the second his breath changed. shallow. barely audible. then it stopped altogether.

he didn’t speak. didn’t ask questions. he simply folded the letter back up and set it down with precision. like it was something sacred. dangerous.

“why didn’t you call me when you got this?” he asked, voice low. serious. his control was razor sharp, but you could hear the grief pressing against his throat.

“i… didn’t want you to leave work in the middle of a meeting,” you muttered. “and i didn’t wanna cry about it either. figured i’d tell you in person. like a grown-up.”

“stage 3, heart cancer is not something you break like a casual news update,” he snapped—then immediately closed his eyes, sighing. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

“it’s okay,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself. “i figured you’d be mad.”

“i’m not mad,” he said, walking around the table toward you. “i’m terrified.”

“it’s still there,” you whispered. “it’s just… fuzzy now. like a dream i can’t quite remember when i wake up.”

you looked up at him. that composed, unshakable man. and for the first time in a long time, nanami looked lost. “you’re young,” he said, almost to himself. “you’re in college. you have plans. you talk about the future like it’s something guaranteed.”

“you really mean that?” your voice cracked.

his jaw clenched. he pulled you into his chest, his hands pressing against your back, like he could physically hold you together. you could feel how hard he was trying not to fall apart. “then i’ll remember it for you,” he said quietly. “your future. your dreams. if you forget them… i’ll carry them until you can take them back.”

“of course,” he said, resting his chin on your head. “you’re the love of my life. i didn’t choose you for convenience. i chose you because i wanted every part of your life—good and bad. if this is what we’re facing now… then we face it. together.”

you buried your face in his chest, inhaling that familiar scent of bergamot and black tea. the comfort of his heartbeat. the way he was always so steady, even when the world wasn’t.

“but just so we’re clear,” he said, pulling back slightly to look at you, “you’re not going to die. not anytime soon. not before i make you my wife.”

you blinked. “wait—what?”

“i’m not proposing,” he said flatly. “not while you’re crying. but you should know… that’s where this was always headed.”

your tears doubled. “ken—”

“shh,” he kissed your temple. “we’ll talk about it after dinner. and after you stop pretending tofu doesn’t make you sob like a child.”

you laughed. you couldn’t help it.

and for the first time since getting the diagnosis, you let yourself feel safe.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

toji was already lounging on your couch when you got home.

shirt half unbuttoned, legs spread like he owned the place—which, okay, he kind of did at this point, considering how often he crashed here. one arm slung over the back of the couch, the other nursing a can of beer he probably picked up on the way over. he didn’t look up when you walked in, just tilted his head slightly and smirked like he could smell the anxiety radiating off you.

“you look like shit,” he said casually, eyes still on the muted TV.

“thanks, baby,” you replied, dropping your bag by the door. “your romantic side is really showing today.”

“you want romance, go read a damn poem.” he finally looked at you. eyes narrowing. “you okay?”

you shrugged and walked into the kitchen, not answering. you knew that tone in his voice. low. suspicious. the kind he only used when he felt something off and didn’t like it one bit.

you took your time. poured a glass of water. leaned against the counter. stared at the envelope in your hand like it might explode if you set it down.

“toji,” you called.

“hm?”

“can you come here?”

he groaned dramatically but stood, beer in hand, and sauntered into the kitchen. he leaned against the counter across from you, expression unreadable. he scanned your face like he was piecing something together.

you handed him the envelope without a word.

he took it. read it.

you watched every flicker of emotion pass through his face. confusion. stillness. a furrowed brow. the tightening of his jaw. and then—rage. not loud. not messy. quiet. slow-burning. the kind that sat in his chest like a bomb with no timer.

he didn’t say anything at first.

just set the envelope down and looked at you. dead in the eye.

“how long have you known?”

“just a few days.”

“and you didn’t tell me?” his voice was low. flat.

you sighed. “i didn’t want to see your face like this.”

“like what?”

“like the world ended.”

he stepped closer. his voice dropped even lower.

“you think i give a fuck about the world?” he said slowly. “i care about you. you think you can just carry this shit alone and joke your way through it? you think that’s cute?”

“i didn’t want you to panic,” you murmured, avoiding his gaze. “i didn’t want to cry. or make it real. if i said it out loud—”

“then i’ll say it for you,” he interrupted. “you have heart cancer. stage 3. twenty-four percent odds. and guess what?”

you finally looked at him.

“we’re beating the shit outta those odds.”

you blinked. “what?”

he crossed the distance between you and pulled you into him. his grip wasn’t gentle—it was grounding. like he needed to feel your heartbeat against his chest to believe you were still here.

“you’re not dying on me,” he said, voice rough. “you hear me? i’ve lost enough people. you’re not going to be one of them. i’ll chain you to the damn bed if i have to. feed you. fight the doctors. i don’t care.”

“toji—”

“nah, shut up. you’re not allowed to talk until you admit i’m right and that i’m hotter than your oncologist.”

you choked out a laugh. “okay. you’re right. you’re hotter than any man with a medical license.”

“damn straight,” he muttered, lips brushing your forehead. “we’re getting through this. and i don’t care if you lose your hair or your strength or your mind a little bit along the way. you’ll still be mine. all of you.”

you didn’t say anything. didn’t need to. you just stood there with his arms around you, the only place that felt like home when everything else felt like hell.

he kissed the side of your head and sighed. “fuck. now i gotta start acting like a responsible adult.”

“guess you better start taking your vitamins, old man.”

“if i die before you, i’m haunting your ass. every time you try to pee, i’ll slam a cabinet door.”

you burst out laughing. crying. something in between. he held you tighter.

“that’s better,” he muttered. “cry in my arms like a normal person, not in the shower like a movie heroine.”

and just like that, you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

you found him in the bedroom, stretched across your bed like a damn king—which, technically, he insisted he was. shirtless, as usual. arms behind his head, eyes closed, expression too calm for a man with a bloodstained past and a mouth as foul as his reputation. the room smelled faintly like sandalwood and your shampoo, which he secretly used but would never admit to.

you stood in the doorway with the envelope clenched in your hand.

“oi, sukuna.”

his eyes cracked open, one brow lazily lifting. “what, brat? come to beg for kisses or annoy me until i carry you to class again?”

you forced a grin, walking in slowly. “tempting, but no. i’ve got something for you.”

“better be food or something perverted.”

you sat beside him, the envelope now shaking a little in your fingers. you hated how that tremor betrayed you. sukuna didn’t miss it. his eyes shifted to your hand, narrowing.

“what the hell is that?”

“diagnosis,” you said simply, tossing it onto his chest.

he caught it midair, scoffing. “what, did they finally diagnose you with being insufferable?”

“close. heart cancer. stage three. they gave me a twenty-four percent chance of living.” you tried to say it lightly. like it was a weather report. “cloudy with a chance of death, haha.”

sukuna didn’t laugh.

his eyes scanned the page. slower than usual. and his silence—it wasn’t dramatic, it was dangerous. the air felt like it thickened. you could almost hear his jaw clench.

“tch,” he scoffed. “twenty-four percent? what a bunch of weaklings. you don’t need their odds. you’ve got me.”

you blinked at him. “...you?”

“yeah. i’m keeping you alive. i’m not letting you leave me over some pathetic little tumor.”

you tried to keep the smile on your face, tried to keep the mood light like you always did. “damn. here i was thinking i’d finally get some peace and quiet.”

he sat up then—so suddenly the bed shifted with the force. his hand gripped your chin, tilting your face toward him, his expression unreadable but his eyes blazing.

“don’t you dare joke about dying,” he growled. “not to me. not when you know what it would do to me.“

you tried to look away, but his fingers held you still. “sukuna…”

“do you know what i’ve done to people who’ve left me?” he whispered, and for once his voice wasn’t teasing—it was trembling.

“terrible things,” you murmured. “you’ve told me.”

“and yet, you’re the only one i’ve ever let touch me without blood on your hands,” he hissed. “the only one i’d share my bed with. laugh with. let sleep on my chest like some damn lovesick fool.”

you bit your lip. your bravado cracked. “...i’m scared.”

and that was all it took for him to pull you into his lap, arms winding around you with the kind of desperation he rarely ever let surface.

“good,” he muttered into your shoulder. “you should be. but not because of death. because if you think i’ll let you go through this alone, you clearly don’t know who the hell you’re dating.”

you buried your face into his neck, breathing in his warmth, his scent, the familiar thrum of something ancient and furious living in his chest.

“you’ll lose your hair?” he murmured. “i don’t care. you’ll puke every day? i’ll hold the damn bucket. cry at three a.m.? i’ll cuss out the moon for looking at you wrong.”

you choked out a laugh. “the moon, huh?”

“fucking moon thinks it’s allowed to shine on you while you’re in pain? not on my watch.”

he leaned back slightly, cupping your cheek now with uncharacteristic softness. “you don’t need to act strong for me, you little brat. cry. scream. sleep for days. whatever you need. i’ll be here.”

“...even when i look like a zombie?”

“you already look half-dead when you wake up. won’t be much of a change.”

you smacked his chest. he grinned.

and then he pressed his forehead against yours, a rare show of intimacy, his voice dropping so low you barely caught it:

“you’re mine. and i don’t give a fuck if it takes all my strength, my fury, my everything. you will survive this. not because the doctors said so. but because i won’t let you die.”

and for once, even with your heart breaking and your future uncertain, you believed him.

because when a monster like sukuna swore something, the universe listened.

SHIU KONG

the sun was already setting by the time you made it to his office.

you found him exactly how you expected: sleeves rolled up, shirt slightly wrinkled, tie loosened like he’d been too busy all day to care about appearances. he was hunched over his desk, fingers typing something sharp, probably threatening someone with policy violations and scary legal jargon. a half-empty glass of whiskey sat beside his monitor, untouched for hours. the room smelled like cologne and stress.

you stood in the doorway, clutching the envelope.

“shiu.”

his eyes didn’t lift right away—just one flick of them toward you, annoyed, until he saw your face. that was all it took.

he straightened. “what happened?”

“nothing,” you said too quickly. “or, i mean... something. yeah. i brought you something.”

you walked in, trying to act normal. like this wasn’t going to detonate his whole night. you placed the envelope on top of a stack of case files like it was a stupid postcard or a coupon for pizza.

he picked it up, his frown deepening with every line he read.

“you’re joking,” he said flatly.

“i wish.”

he looked at you. hard. no emotion at first—just that sharp, calculating gaze that made grown men fold. but you knew him too well. you saw the cracks right away: his fingers tightening around the paper. the twitch in his jaw. the breath he held too long before letting it out.

“stage three?” he said. “twenty-four percent survival?”

you leaned against the wall, arms crossed, trying to keep it light.

“well, if i was a stock, you probably wouldn't invest in me, huh?”

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” he snapped.

you blinked.

“jesus, shiu, calm down—”

“no. i’m not calming down. you walk into my office with this,” he shook the letter, “and joke about it? you think this is funny? you think i can just read this and go back to work?”

you stayed quiet.

he stood up, pacing now. one hand dragging through his hair, the other still holding the paper like it was covered in blood. his voice dropped low. rough.

“why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“i didn’t want to ruin your week.”

he turned slowly. "you think any of this matters if you’re not in it?"

that one hit harder than you expected. your throat tightened.

he sighed harshly and stepped toward you, eyes dark, voice steadier now but no less intense. “look at me.”

you did.

he cupped your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks like he was trying to memorize every inch.

"you don’t get to carry this alone,” he said. “not with me around. not for a second."

you bit your lip. “i didn’t want you to treat me like i was dying.”

“i’m not treating you like you’re dying. i’m treating you like you’re mine. and you are. and i don’t care how brutal this fight gets, how many appointments we sit through, how sick you get, how tired—i’m staying.”

you exhaled shakily, and his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you against him like he could keep the sickness away just by holding you tighter.

“you’re not allowed to go before me,” he murmured into your hair. “i’m the old one here, remember?”

you smiled weakly. “so what, you’re giving me permission to outlive you?”

“i’m giving you orders. and you always listen to your boss.”

“you’re not my boss, shiu.”

“wanna bet?”

you leaned your head against his chest, finally letting your tears soak into his shirt. his arms stayed locked around you like a shield.

“i’m scared,” you whispered.

he kissed your temple, voice rough and sure.

“then be scared. just don’t be alone.”

HIGURUMA HIROMI

he always stayed up too late when he was working. piles of case files, half-drunk cups of green tea gone cold, classical music humming low in the background like it could drown out the weight of the world. the desk lamp lit his tired eyes in soft gold, his brows furrowed in that focused way you knew meant he hadn’t even noticed the time—or eaten.

you hovered at the doorway for a second, gripping the envelope. stage 3. 24%. ugly numbers typed in a clinical font that suddenly felt louder than the damn music.

“hiromi.”

he glanced up, his features instantly softening the second he saw you. “you’re still up. what’s wrong?”

you tried to smirk. “well. i’m about to ruin your night. so buckle in, counselor.”

he frowned and pushed his chair back, straightening. “what happened?”

you crossed the room, placed the envelope down in front of him like you were handing in an assignment. “that’s my diagnosis.”

he didn’t move for a few seconds. just stared at it. like touching it would confirm the dread blooming in his chest. but he opened it, scanned the words, and then—

his shoulders stiffened. just slightly. like a man being sentenced.

“heart cancer,” he murmured, voice almost too calm. “stage three. twenty-four percent survival rate.”

“yeah,” you said with a dry chuckle. “bit dramatic, right? could’ve given me a 30% for optimism.”

his eyes snapped up to yours, unreadable.

“you’re making jokes?”

“if i don’t, i’ll cry. and i figured one of us should hold it together.”

his jaw tensed, and he stood slowly, walking around the desk with a kind of methodical grace that always made your heart skip. he stopped in front of you, one hand resting on your cheek like he was scared you’d vanish.

“you’ve known… how long?”

“got the results a few days ago.”

“and you didn’t tell me?”

you looked down. “i didn’t want to be the reason you stopped working. you’ve got enough to deal with. i didn’t want to be another case file on your desk.”

he flinched like you slapped him.

“you’re not a case file,” he said firmly. “you’re not just another name. you’re—” his voice broke, just a little. “you’re everything.”

you couldn’t hold it anymore. your voice cracked. “i’m scared.”

his arms were around you instantly, firm and grounding. his hand cupped the back of your head, pressing you into his chest like you belonged there and only there.

“then be scared,” he whispered into your hair. “and i’ll be scared with you. but don’t think for a second i’ll let you go through this alone.”

you held onto his blazer, gripping the fabric like it could anchor you. “i don’t want you to see me fall apart.”

“i’ve seen people fall apart,” he said. “i know what that looks like. this isn’t that. this is you being brave. this is you still showing up, still standing, even when you're hurting.”

you pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes glassy. “what if i die?”

his hand slid to your cheek, thumb brushing a tear away. “then i’ll have spent every last day making sure you knew you were loved. and if you live—and you will, because you’re stronger than any verdict—they’ll write books about how you told death to wait.”

you laughed through the tears. “that’s a little dramatic, even for a lawyer.”

he smiled, just barely. “i learned from the best.”

and then he kissed you—soft, reverent, like a man clinging to hope.

“we’ll fight this,” he whispered. “and i’ll be with you every step of the way. suits and all.”

i made this after re-watch now is good and just can’t help myself. i know, i know it was basic, classic drama, the girl is sick, has cancer, everyone wrote about it, i know. but i enjoy writing this so much, i may or may not make a mini series about them, do you guys will enjoy it if i make this longer? please let me know! 🫣

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rbfclassy · 1 year ago

Text

MANHANDLE ME! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...headcanons on how the jjk men manhandle you in bed

INFO...jjk men (toji, sukuna, gojo, geto, nanami) x fem!reader, true form!sukuna, dacryphilia, rough sex (no like actually), this is all consensual btw, no choso bc I cannot picture him for some reason lmao, manhandling, degrading, all of them are just super mean, name calling (whore, slut, bitch), dacryphilia, slapping, tit slapping, spanking, choking, overstim, cream pie, squirting, oral (f & m receiving), deep throating, anal, hair pulling, spit, everything is just very out of pocket, not proofread

OTHER...like and reblogs are appreciated

SUKUNA

we all know sukuna to be such a cold hearted individual and not to mention rough. He is a big, strong man that with easily carry you around and toss you around like nothing, so he’s, that translates to when he is pounding your cunt till you’re in tears. He has you on top of him, on hand around your throat, one groping your tits as they bounce in his face, and the other two guiding your hips up and down his thick length like you were some fleshlight. You literally have no control, never, he uses your cunt, your body like it’s his own. You’d lose count of how many times he’s came in you and how many times you came around him. It was always messy and you were always on the verge of passing out from overstimulation until you felt a harsh slap on your tits. He’d grip your throat tighter, taking some of cum that had spilled from your full pussy and rub it over your face and tits. “Is it too much for you, huh? Too fucking bad. I don’t want hear nothing come out of your mouth anymore except your cries.”

TOJI

another man who is super strong and a cocky son of a bitch. He will literally carry you while fucking you, leaving you absolutely helpless. He has you in a full nelson while standing, his cock pistons in out of you at a relentless pace while you have to sit there and take it cause he’s his hand locked in behind your head. Drool spills from the corner of your lips as incoherent babbles come from you. Your pussy is leaking, so sore and swollen from how hard he was thrusting into you. Your toes curl as another orgasm rips through your body. And since he loves carrying you while fucking, toji will also lift your body against the wall and put you on his shoulders to eat your pussy, holding you there while he sucks on your clit. It doesn’t matter how much you wiggle or beg him to slow down. “Fucking take it, bitch. Awe, are you cumming again? You like being fucked like a whore don’t you? Your pussy is clamping around me.”

GOJO

believe it or not, gojo is mean. He’ll push you on the bed and trap your body between his legs before spanking your ass over and over until it was sore. He grabs a fistful of your hair, taking joy in the look on your face before he drags you off the bed to the floor. You sit on your knees, anxiously looking up at his while he takes his hard cock out. He grips your jaw, slapping your face a few times to hear you whimper. Then he will shove his cock in your mouth and fuck your throat like no tomorrow. He grabs your hair, using it as leverage, ignoring the way tears poor down your cheeks and how much spit is dripping from your mouth. He takes his cock out to let you breathe, roughly pulling you closer to his dick to rub it all over your pretty face. He slaps your face a few times again, forcing his dick down your throat in the process, balls slapping against your chin. “Sluts like to get their throats used, baby. Isn’t that what you are, hm? Yeah…that’s what I fucking thought. Uh uh, don’t cry now.”

GETO

okay so geto is like a menace to society. He has your legs pinned back, his big hands fighting every chance you have to move out of his grip while he fucks your tight ass. Tears are streaming down your face while he pounds into you. You’ve squirted so many times, but geto wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. The bed beneath you was soaked with your juices and his sticky cum. You stared up at him with desperation, each thrust from him felt like the air was being taken out of your lungs. You clawed at his chest, biting hard on your bottom lip, the taste of iron on your tongue. One his hands reached up and grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at the way his cock disappears in your hole. You watched, dumbfounded, completely lost in bliss that you didn’t even realize you squirted again. “Don’t act like you don’t love this, my cum in your ass. Look at the dumb look on your face, you want it so bad. Just keep watching me use your hole, slut.

NANAMI

this is mean is sweet, but don’t piss him off because he can’t get real serious. He’ll fuck you from behind, one leg propped up on the bed, hips slapping against yours. His hand is pressing down on your neck, holding you in place against the mattress. His heavy balls hit your puffy clit with each thrust and you’re drooling, groans escaping your throat, barely able to open your eyes. His dick feels so good sliding against your gummy walls, reaching your sweet spot. His other hand is swatting your ass, making it as sore at possible, gripping at the flesh, nails digging into your skin. He still has a firm grip on your neck when you cum around his dick for the third time. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as you grip onto the sheets, ass still high in the air. He pulls you up by your neck, gripping your jaw to look at him before his sticks two fingers inside your mouth, laying them flat on your tongue. He spits in your mouth, then on your face, mushing it against your lips and cheeks, pushing you back down on the bed again. “You must like pissing me off, right? Being a bitch, all so you can get fucked cause you’re a needy whore. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get what you’ve been wanting so, so bad, but you might not like the way I do it.”

repost from my old account

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gojonanami · 1 year ago

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“ A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME ”

pairing: satoru gojo x reader

summary: you come home after a long day of work unable to find the person you call home anywhere — until you reach the bedroom.

warnings: 18+ suggestive, fluff, comfort, some angst, implications of the shinjuku showdown arc, implied gojo is no longer a sorcerer, gojo is your househusband, taking a bath together, taking care of him, copium really, satoru being a silly man

w/c: 1,184

“I’m home!”

You call into your home, the clatter of your keys and shoes as you shedded the things that chained you to the outside to submerge yourself in your oasis and into his arms. But as you got no reply, you stepped into your living room, scanning over the kitchen, to find no one.

Now where was your home?

“Satoru?” you called, heart skipping a slight beat, he was always waiting for you when you got home, usually on the couch or maybe in the kitchen the clank of the knife as he chopped away. Or even the many times that he was waiting by the door to only ambush you with kisses. But this time, nothing.

You rounded the corner to the hallway and peeked into your bedroom to find him asleep. You crept closer, careful not to wake him, and yup, he was fast asleep. His pretty snow white lashes resting against his cheeks, his chest slowly rising and falling as the soft sounds of his breaths parted his lovely lips.

You could watch him sleep for hours. You knew he never did enough of it before, and you’d argue he still didn’t do enough of it now. He always said he was fine sleeping 6 hours since it was twice as much as he usually got — and now he was working at home, so he could be ease.

But even so, you know he needed more.

As if he senses your thought, he stirs, starry blue eyes finding yours as he flutters sleep from his gaze, “sweetheart?” He’s murmuring, voice still beautifully raspy from sleep, “when did you get home?” He’s shifting to get up, but you use gentle hands to ease him back, “I haven’t started on dinner yet, sweets—“

“I got it, Toru,” you’re running your fingers through his hair, “just rest, baby,” and a protest is already on his lips, “let me guess what you did today — cleaned the house from roof to floor, stocked us on groceries, cooked lunch for me for the week, and probably a million other things,” you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, “I think I can handle dinner for one night at least,”

He’s pouting now, “but you just got home from work, Princess, what kind of househusband would I be—“ and you can’t help but laugh, he loved his self appointed title of househusband, especially since it was one he had chosen for himself, and he took any opportunity — even now to call himself that.

“I think even the absolute best househusbands need a break, and should listen to their wives, since I’m the one you want to pamper so much,” and his lips party in protest, but you’re leaning down to kiss them and his pout away, “let me take care of you, Toru,”

He’s sighing, as he leans up to press his forehead to yours, “and does your offer include a bath, sweetheart?”

~~~

“Y’know sometimes I feel guilty,” and you pause in your massage of his head, fingers tangled in his hair, suds from the bath you’d drawn for him covering both of your bodies as he leans against you in your tub, back pressed flush to yours.

“Guilty about what?” you ask, holding your tongue on the million reasons why he shouldn’t.

“For so long, I was the strongest,” he gives a small chuckle, “and it was fun, sometimes. But it was mostly lonely,” he leans back to look up at you, a small grin on his lips, “except when I was with you,” your lips curl, “and now I get to be with you, and I get to stay home — and the worst thing I have to do are the dishes,” and you snort.

“I told you I’d do them if you hate them so much,”

But he’s shaking his head, “Sometimes I think trying to deal with our cast iron is worse than fighting Sukuna—“ and you roll your eyes, “but there’s always this urgency that I have to be doing more. Telling me to keep going, moving, fighting—“

“You’ve done enough, Toru, more than enough,” your fingers cup his cheek, “too much, honestly. It’s okay to rest now. You’ve done your part—“

“But—“

“Didn’t you or someone say jujutsu is like a marathon, a baton pass?” Your fingers run through his white locks, before you shift yourself to sit in his lap instead, “the marathon is over, racers have packed up and gone home, and the finish line has been crossed,” your fingers rest on the back of his neck, tracing his undercut, “and that’s because of you and all you did to fight and raise up the next generation,” you say softly, and he’s pressing his head to your forehead.

“Is it okay for me to rest now?” and you’re pulling him into your arms, hoping your touch conveys what your words can’t.

“Yes, it is, Satoru,” you’re pressing soft kisses to his neck, “you don’t need to be the strongest. You’re Satoru Gojo, and that’s all I want,” and he leans back, “you’re all I want,”

“Is that a proposal?” And you snort.

“We’re already married, weirdo—“ and his lips find yours, as they always did, his arms around your bare waist, as the water shifted and splashed, but you could barely feel anything except his lips against yours and the circle of his thumb against the small of your back.

He finally pulls away, a genuine smile on his lips, “And you married this weirdo,” and you chuckle, tracing his jaw with your finger, “you’re stuck with me for life,”

“Promise?” And he’s kissing you again in an instant, stealing your breath like he did the first time you met him all those years ago at jujutsu tech. And you knew you’d never love anyone else — not like him.

“Promise.”

Bonus:

Satoru’s arms wrap around you from behind as the two of you towel off after your bath, “what are we having for dinner?”

“Well someone insisted on me being in here with him, so I had to order out,” and he’s grinning, as he nuzzles your neck.

“Whoopsie, hehe,” and he’s humming, as he tugs your hips against his, the friction drawing a gasp from your lips, “can we have dessert first?”

“It is dessert. We’re having ice cream for dinner—“ and he’s kissing you again, but this time it’s languid and messy — all tongue and teeth, until he’s pulling away with a smirk at your breathless face.

“I want something sweeter, wife,” and you smile.

“Think you can finish before the delivery gets here?” And he’s already picking you up with ease in his arms, pinned under him in a moment, as his ocean blues flash with mischief from between your thighs.

“I can, but I don’t know if you’ll be done by then.” He says cheekily, as you only sigh.

If there was one thing that would always be true is that you would always be weak to Satoru Gojo — but not his abilities, but who he is.

Your husband.

“Let’s see, hm?”

a/n: I’m real upset about the leaks and this is my coping. I needed this.

taglist: @staryukis, @cloverlilies, @asgoodasdead666, @strawmariee, @chuuyasboots, @forest-fruits-jam, @catsgomurp, @rat-loves, @hanlay, @risuola, @spider-fan72, @sunamatic, @difficultdomains

#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #gojo satoru smut #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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lovegasmic · 5 months ago

Text

ᰋ. HOW TO GET THE GIRL ? : jujutsu kaisen ᰍ

request : [ them ] being the “other man” showing reader they won’t give up on her even though she now wants to be loyal. alt : just pretend there is no boyfriend and it’s exes trying to win you back.

‘ toji fushiguro, kento nanami, satoru gojo, suguru geto, choso kamo, sukuna x fem!reader ’ ୨୧ taglist

cw. slight mentions of sex◞ Sukuna gets in a fight ◞ other than that it’s all fluff / crack and probably a bit ooc.

˙ . ꒷ toji . 𖹭 ˙ — is the type that would purposely frequent the places he knows you’re going to be at, and to make it worst, when he knows you’ll be with your boyfriend.

the mall, that one restaurant you told him about, your favorite hair salon and that one clothing store, all places Toji attempts to find you at, calling you on the phone? that’s weak.

until you do ‘accidentally’ bump into Toji at the club where you first met, and he has this wide grin while nonchalantly approaching, eyeing your boyfriend up and down as if the sight was insulting, “oh, look who is here” he chuckles and you’re about to scream.

“do you know him?” your boyfriend asks, a bit taken guarded, no one could blame him really, that menacing look on Toji’s eyes plus the size of the man is just a perfect combo for disaster.

pissed is mild, you’ve already told Toji to stay away yet he never listens, “just briefly, he is not important”

the black haired man’s eyes glint with what looks like anger, but still masked under a smirk and crossed arms to purposely bulge his arms, “is that a way to talk to an old friend?” he tuts, mocking, “i’m hurt”

“let’s get going” you mutter in a rush, tugging your boyfriend to leave as soon as possible, but of course, Toji is not having it, holding onto your wrist to tug you instead towards another corner and quite fast, just to push you against a wall.

“what a fuckin’ pathetic man you got” he huffs, noticing how your boyfriend just stood there frozen, “i can’t believe you chose that”

“i chose no one, he was my first, you’re just a fling” that shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did.

“you didn’t say that when you were screaming my name” his hands are a bit firmer on your arms.

and your face burns slightly, “that’s different”

“how so?” Toji’s voice is demanding and gruff, “we had so much fun together, I can take better care of you than that pathetic excuse of a man you have..., please” he does not need much, really, just a single chance, and by the way your eyes drop slightly, he knows you’re seconds away from giving in.

˙ . ꒷ kento . 𖹭 ˙ — to begin with, finding out you were using him all along was like a punch in the gut, him who thought your relationship was going smooth and steady, only to be crushed down within minutes was not something Kento was willing to go through again. so, he just let’s you go, his ego hurt and heart shattered in pieces.

but then again, if you were with him, it was for a reason, right?

he acts mature, something you quite expect from a man like Kento, yet unable to deny the pull that still lingers, a whole gentleman he is, and in a city like yours finding him again was not impossible.

“hello...” his voice is steady and cool, making your tummy do a flip at the nonchalant and deep tone, “how have you been?” it’s quite obvious his words are forced, and by the way his hands are in his pockets, he wants to leave as soon as possible.

“um, good, yeah” so awkward, and to make it worse, you can’t just stop the way your eyes trail up and down his body, looking as handsome and manly with those khaki pants and blue fitted shirt.

Kento nods again, tapping on the ground with perfectly polished shoes, “good, then, goodbye”

“wait!”

your words come out before you can even stop them, awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of your top, “can we... grab some coffee? if you’re free, of course”

truly meant to be, how weak you are and how weak Kento is to accept immediately, hopefully, now knowing the whole story, he can convince you to break up with your boyfriend.

˙ . ꒷ satoru . 𖹭 ˙ — another gift left on your doorstep? this is the third that week, a cute yet simple black box with a white bow around it, perhaps another expensive necklace to join the collection your ‘ex’ or better called, fling, left.

the box creates a soft thud as you toss it on the last drawer of your closet, unable to even consider throwing it away, so you better keep them, there were no more reasons behind it, you tried to convince yourself.

then another beep, you have a new voice mail that plays, “hey, sweetheart!” Satoru sounds as nonchalant and fake as ever, “you left a t-shirt at my place, ahaha, don’t you want to come grab it?”

another poor excuse.

“why don’t I better drop it at your place?” silence, “just..., let me know if your boyfriend is there...”

something he was not willing to do was drop by knowing the other man could be there, one to save himself from heartache, and another, to not murder the man with his own bare hands.

another beep, another voice call, “let me talk to you, baby, please, just once, can we talk?” he sounds a bit pathetic but who cares, you managed to get under his skin, wrapped around your finger in such a way that he was not letting you go that easily, “call me”

you couldn’t deny that he was really sweet and attentive, checking one of the anklets he got you now sitting on your skin, perhaps... giving him one call can’t hurt, right?

˙ . ꒷ suguru . 𖹭 ˙ — Mr. nonchalant, you call him, having a grin on his face that makes his eyes wrinkle on the sides, barely raising a hand to greet as you approach — although you tried to avoid him by crossing the road, thing Suguru did too, now face to face while the only one who feels awkward is you, “oh, hi” he says your name as if it was the most common thing he has ever done, rolling off his tongue way too smoothly, “i did not expect to see you around”

what a liar, if you didn’t know him, you could have overlooked the way his fists were clenched and jaw slightly tight, “and who is this?” he points at the man next to you, who Suguru knows every detail of thanks to social media.

“this is my boyfriend...” why were your words so stiff? “what are you doing here?”

“oh, me?” he shrugs, “walking around, buying some groceries, life is amazing” the sarcasm and way his eyes trailed up and down your boyfriend in such disgusted way did not escape your gaze.

“oh, that’s great, yeah... we better get going...”

“wait” there is that smile again, “why don’t you join me for dinner?” you genuinely fear for your boyfriend’s life at that suggestion.

“i don’t think—”

“ah, you wound me” so dramatic, holding a hand to his chest, “aren’t we friends?”

sure, hopefully your boyfriend will make it out in one piece.

˙ . ꒷ choso . 𖹭 ˙ — although his mind screams for not to call you, he still does. the phone feels heavy on his hand the moment he picks it up, dialing the number Choso has began to memorize from how many times he’s type it just to delete it.

straight into voicemail, just great, “doll, we have to talk...” his voice is gruff and low, trying to mask that frustration by sliding his open palm across his face, “...call me”

it’s a little pathetic but he does not care in the slightest, fuck, how much he misses you, your laugh, your smell, your voice, everything, utterly in love with you.

even his brother told him to find someone else, to let you go but he could not, at least not on his own, dragged to a bar by his friends where he oh, so coincidentally finds you again, looking as gorgeous as ever and his chest tightens.

“hey” Choso is even a little flustered to approach you, hoping you don’t push him away, he just wants to chat, really, smiling and ignoring the flutter in his stomach as you actually continue the conversation, perhaps the drinks making everything go smoother, perhaps it’s the atmosphere or just how extremely beautiful you look.

Choso can’t look away, can’t take his eyes off you, and without realizing you’re dancing again as if nothing happened, as if you’re still his, and he really, really prays that you don’t slap him as he leans for a kiss under the bar dim light.

˙ . ꒷ sukuna . 𖹭 ˙ — this was a bad idea, a horrible, terrible idea, who in their right mind even thinks about taking their boyfriend to the club their side piece is a frequent at?

you, you did.

“so this is the guy, huh?” a few drinks in and Sukuna was ready to fight without a care of the show he was putting in, that mean, wicked smirk of his in place as he taps your boyfriend’s shoulder hard enough to make him wobble slightly, “you changed me for that?!” his eyes never left yours, demanding an answer.

“i did not change you! you were not even an option ”

a deep and quite menacing laugh echoes through the now embarrassingly silent club, everyone ready to jump in if things got worse, “oh yeah? that’s so sad, babygirl, because you are mine”

“hey” your boyfriend chimes in, stepping in between you and Sukuna whose hands were on your shoulders, “keep your hands away from my girl”

“listen, pal” Sukuna retorts, his face turned into a sly smile that screams danger, “this is between me and her”

“she is my girlfriend”

and, that did not sit right with Sukuna, as the next thing you see is your boyfriend stumbling back from the pink haired’s punch on the face, and the club bouncer jumping to pull him outside, almost happening in the blink of an eye.

that was just perfect, well done.

and as your hands clean up your boyfriend’s bloodied cheek, and your thoughts trail down to Sukuna, you know you’re fucked.

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ponderingmoonlight · 10 months ago

Note

HEYYYY so i dont really know if u write this stuff but i was wondering if u could do like toji/jjk men and their reaction when the reader goes into labour?? ❤️❤️

JJK men when you go into labor

Pairings: Toji x fem!reader; Geto x fem!reader; Gojo x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,3k

Warnings: yk...birth, this is basically the same scenario for 3k words straight lol, never gave birth myself so idk if this is accurate 🥹

Toji Fushiguro

The day started like any other. Well, as normal as it can be when you’re nine months pregnant.

You are in the kitchen, trying to decide between a cup of tea or a snack, when a sharp, unmistakable pain shoots through your abdomen. You gasp, clutching the edge of the counter for support as the realization hits you with full force:

This is it. The baby is coming.

“Toji!” you call out, your voice trembling as another wave of pain rolls through you.

You hear the rustle of a newspaper being set down and the heavy footsteps of your husband approaching from the living room.

“Toji…” you try to keep calm, but the panic in your voice is unmistakable.

The man is a fortress, rarely showing any emotion beyond his usual stoic demeanor, but when he sees your expression, something shifts in his eyes. The usually cool, collected Toji Fushiguro is now all business.

Without a word, he’s right by your side, one strong arm wrapping around your waist to support you. His other hand comes up to gently tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“How long have you been feeling this?” he questions, his voice steady, though you can hear the underlying tension.

“Just started,” you manage to reply through gritted teeth.

Another contraction hits, and you instinctively grip his arm, digging your nails into his skin for support.

Toji doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he simply nods, assessing the situation with the same precision he would use in a fight.

“Alright. We’re going to the hospital now. I’ll get the bag.”

He guides you to the couch, making sure you are seated comfortably before he disappears down the hall. You can hear the faint sound of drawers being opened and closed, and within moments, he’s back with the hospital bag slung over his shoulder.

Toji lifts you into his arms effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as he carries you to the car. His movements are quick but careful. And even though he’d never admit it, you can feel the tension in his body, a rare vulnerability in a man who’s usually so unshakable.

As he settles you into the passenger seat, he leans down, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

“You’re strong. You can handle this, babe” he mutters, his voice firm but with an edge of softness that he rarely shows.

The drive to the hospital is swift as usual, Toji weaving through traffic with the same precision he uses in combat. But his now soft hand never leaves yours, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin as if trying to soothe both your pain and his own worry.

“You’re doing great,” he murmurs, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

His jaw is set, the muscles on his neck visible tense. And yet his voice is calm, grounding you during your fear and pain.

When you finally arrive at the hospital, Toji is all efficiency. He barks orders at the staff, making sure everything is ready for your arrival with all their attention on you. Despite the situation, his grip on your hand is firm, his presence unwavering while he stays by your side through every step.

In the delivery room, as the pain intensifies, you squeeze his hand to death, your nails biting into his now injured skin. Toji doesn’t do so much as flinch, his focus entirely on you.

“Breathe,” he reminds you whenever you need to hear it, his voice steady and commanding.

You manage to look up at him between contractions. And for a brief moment, you see something in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

Fear.

It’s fleeting, quickly replaced by his usual determination, but it was there, a reminder that beneath his tough exterior and his sometimes sharp tone towards you, Toji cares more than he’ll ever admit.

As the contractions grow stronger, Toji’s calm exterior begins to crack. He isn’t panicking, but you can see the worry etched into his features, the way his grip tightened just slightly every time you cry out in pain.

“You’re almost there,” he murmurs, his voice gruff but soothing.

“Just a little longer.”

When the final push comes and the cries of your newborn fill the room, you see Toji’s shoulders relax ever so slightly through wet lashes. When he looks down at you, a small and rare smile tugs on the corner of his usual so neutral lips. Those lips you’ll never get tired of kissing. Those lips who can be used as a weapon, those lips that do in fact hurt you from time to time. You know this relationship can be toxic, that Toji Fushiguro isn’t the definition of a dream husband.

But at this very moment, with glistening eyes set on you and that smile forming on his face, you can think of nothing else.

“You did it,” he whispers, his voice low and filled with something that almost sounds like awe.

When the nurse places the baby in your arms, Toji’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Get some rest, babe.”

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your new family and with your eyelids slowly but surely growing heavy, you see a side of Toji that he rarely let anyone see: a man who is strong but also deeply, fiercely protective of the people he loves.

Especially you.

Suguru Geto

The afternoon sunlight filters through the curtains when you sit on the couch, folding the last of the baby clothes that Suguru insisted on organizing earlier that morning. You smile to yourself, thinking about how fussy he was, making sure everything was in its place for the baby’s arrival.

You feel a twinge in your lower abdomen, brushing it off as one of the many discomforts that accompanied the last few weeks of pregnancy. But the pain returns just a few seconds later, sharper this time. Your face turns pale when realization hits you with full force.

This isn’t just another cramp. Those are contractions.

“Suguru…” you call out, trying to keep your voice steady as another wave of pain washes over you.

Panic starts to creep in, even though you try to push it down. You need to stay calm, need to make your way to the hospital to finally deliver that baby.

Suguru appears in the doorway almost instantly, his usually serene expression replaced with pure concern as he crosses the room to your side.

“What is it? Are you alright?” he asks with gentle and yet tensioned voice.

“I think it’s time,” you whisper, clutching your belly when another contraction hit, more intense than the last.

“I think… I’m in labor.”

Labor.

For a moment, Suguru’s eyes widen, a rare flash of panic crossing his features. But as quickly as it came, it vanishes into his usual calm composure.

He kneels beside you, taking your hand in his, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin.

“Alright,” he replies softly, his voice like a balm to your frayed nerves.

“We’ll get through this. Let me get everything ready.”

Suguru stands and moves with a quiet efficiency, grabbing the hospital bag and making sure you have everything you need. You watch him, your heart swelling with love and gratitude for this man who, despite the panic of the situation, is doing everything he can to keep you calm.

Until another contraction hits you like a truck.

He’s back at your side in no time, helping you to your feet with a gentle touch.

“Lean on me,” he instructs softly, wrapping an arm around your waist to support you while you make your way to the car.

The drive to the hospital is surreal. Suguru’s hand never leaves yours, his presence a constant source of comfort. He speaks softly to you the entire time, his voice a steady rhythm that you can focus on, grounding you through coming and going contractions.

“You’re doing amazing,” he repeats over and over, his tone filled with quiet admiration.

You try to focus on his words, his calm demeanor helping to ease some of your anxiety. Suguru is always the calm in your storm, the one who can bring you back to center no matter how chaotic things are. And now, when the reality of labor starts to set in, you are more grateful than ever for his steady presence.

When you arrived at the hospital, Suguru springs into action immediately, helping you out of the car and into a wheelchair with the same gentle care he always shows. He stays close as the nurses wheel you into the delivery room, his hand never leaving yours.

As the contractions grow stronger, you find yourself gripping his hand tighter, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Suguru is right there with you, his voice a constant source of comfort.

“Breathe, love,” he whispers, his tone soothing.

“You’re doing so well.”

Despite the pain you find yourself focusing on his voice, letting it guide you through each contraction. Suguru’s presence is like a lifeline, grounding you in the midst of the pain and chaos. He always remains close, his forehead resting gently against yours as he whispers words of encouragement in your ear.

“You’re almost there,” he murmurs softly.

“Just a little more, and we’ll meet our baby.”

As the final push comes, you could feel Suguru’s grip on your hand tighten, his breath catching in his throat while watching you bring your child into the world. Within the next second, the sound of your baby’s first cry fills the room, and the first thing you see are tears glistening in Suguru’s eyes.

“You did it,” he breathes out, his voice thick with emotion as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re incredible.”

The nurse places your baby in your arms and Suguru’s hand comes to rest gently on the tiny head, his expression softening as he looks down at your child.

“Welcome to the world,” he whispers, his voice filled with so much love for that little creature that makes your heart swell.

Satoru Gojo

You are lounging on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position, which honestly seems impossible at this stage of pregnancy. Satoru is in the kitchen, probably making another one of his infamous midnight snacks. The two of you spent the day preparing for the baby’s arrival, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

Out of nowhere, a sharp pain shoots through your abdomen, stealing your breath. You hold onto your belly, realization dawning on you as the pain increases more and more.

“Satoru!” you call out, your voice laced with urgency.

Almost instantly, Satoru appears in the doorway, a sandwich in one hand and a look of confusion on his face.

“What’s up?” he asks casually.

But when he sees the expression on your face, his carefree demeanor falters in an instant.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I think… I think it’s time,” you manage to press out, your voice trembling as another contraction hits.

You see the color drain from his face for a split second before his usual grin appears bac on his face.

“Oh, it’s go time!” he exclaims, dropping the sandwich onto the counter and rushing over to you.

“Alright, don’t worry, babe. I’ve got this. I’ll just finish that sandwich later,”

You can’t help but laugh despite the pain.

“You…You really think about that sandwich now?”

He helps you to your feet, his hands warm and steady as he guides you toward the door.

“Sure babe. Just breathe, okay? I’ll have you at the hospital in no time.”

He scoops you up with ease, carrying you to the car like you weigh nothing. As he settles you into the passenger seat, he is all smiles, though you could see the flicker of nervousness in his eyes.

“You ready for this?” he questions, his voice filled with excitement.

The drive to the hospital is a blur of lights and Satoru’s voice, a constant stream of chatter meant to distract you from the pain and Backstreet Boys crying out of the radio. He weaves through traffic with an ease that only he can manage, glancing over at you every few seconds while humming.

“You’re doing amazing, babe. Just keep breathing.”

You squeeze his hand tightly, trying to focus on his voice as another contraction hits. Satoru’s grip tightens in response, and you can see the concern creeping into his usually carefree expression.

But he still keeps talking, trying to keep you calm with jokes, stories and boy bands, anything to make you smile.

When you finally arrive at the hospital, Satoru is out of the car in a flash, helping you out and into a wheelchair with a surprising amount of gentleness. He holds your hand tightly as the nurses wheel you inside.

In the delivery room, Satoru stays by your side, his usual humor tempered by a seriousness you rarely saw.

“You’ve got this,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from your face while you brace for another contraction.

“You’re the strongest person I know.”

Despite the pain, you manage a small smile. You, the strongest?

“No, you’re the strongest”, you press out.

He simply beams down at you while shrugging in a playful way. Satoru might joke around a lot, but in moments like this, you know you can count on him to be there for you.

As the labor progresses, you find yourself leaning on him more and more, his voice the only thing grounding you through the pain. Satoru’s grip on your hand never wavers, even when you squeeze it hard enough to leave marks.

“Just a little more, babe,” he purrs, his forehead pressed against yours as he helps you through the final push.

“You’re almost there.”

When your baby’s cries finally fill the room, you see the tension leave Satoru’s body all at once. He looks down at you, a wide grin spreading across his face, his eyes shining with tears he will never admit to.

“We did it,” he whispers, his voice choked with emotion.

As the nurse placed your baby in your arms, Satoru’s hand comes to rest gently on the tiny head, his expression one of pure awe.

“Hey there, little one,” he hushes softly.

You looked up at him, tears in your own eyes when you see the way he looks at your child:

With all the love and devotion he usually tries to hide behind jokes and smiles.

In that moment, you know that Satoru will be the best father, just as he’s the best partner.

“Now…are you in the mood for a sandwich?”

“Babies aren’t allowed to eat sandwiches, idiot.”

Ryomen Sukuna

You are lying in bed like you did those pasts days, trying to ignore the discomfort nagged at you all day. Ryomen Sukuna sits across the room, his crimson eyes watching you with a mixture of boredom and curiosity.

He was never one to show much concern, but you noticed the way his gaze had lingered on you more often as your due date approached.

Then, without warning, a sharp, intense pain shoots through your abdomen, making you gasp. You clutch at your belly, the realization hitting you hard.

“Sukuna…” you manage to whisper, your voice strained.

He’s by your side in an instant, faster than you ever saw him move.

“What is it?” he questions, his voice low and dangerous, as if he’s ready to eliminate whatever was causing you pain.

“I think… I think it’s happening,” you press out, trying to keep your voice steady as another contraction hits.

“The baby is coming.”

For a moment, Sukuna’s eyes narrow, his usual arrogance replaced by something you can’t quite place.

“So, it begins,” he mutters more to himself than to you.

Without another word, he lifts you into his arms, his grip firm but surprisingly gentle.

“You’re not going to die from this, are you?” he comments, a hint of irritation in his voice, though you know him well enough to recognize the concern beneath it.

You manage a weak smile.

“No, I’m not going to die.”

“Good,” he mutters, his tone gruff as he carries you out of the room.

“I won’t tolerate weakness from the woman birthing my child.”

Despite his harsh words, you can feel the tension in his body radiating from his firm muscles, the way his grip tightens ever so slightly when you wince in pain. Sukuna was always a creature of power and control, and the fact that he can’t do anything to stop your pain seems to frustrate him.

How ironic.

He carries you outside, where a car waits - something he arranged without you even realizing it. Sukuna isn’t usually one to rely on human conveniences, but for you, he obviously made an exception.

“A car?”

“Shut up, brat. Teleporting us into the hospital might be too dangerous. I…I don’t know much about a pregnancy…”

“I can tell that.”

The drive to the hospital is silent, save for the sound of your labored breathing and the occasional growl from Sukuna when you tense in pain. He sits beside you, his eyes never leaving your face, watching you with an intensity that borders on obsessive.

When you finally arrived at the hospital, Sukuna carries you inside, ignoring the shocked looks from the staff as he barks orders at them. His presence is intimidating, and no one dares question him as he demands the best care for you.

In the delivery room, Sukuna stays close, his usual arrogance tempered by something you rarely saw in him - worry.

“You’re stronger than this,” he tells you, his voice low and commanding as you fight through another contraction.

“You will not be defeated by something as trivial as childbirth.”

His words are harsh, but you can hear the underlying concern, the way his eyes soften ever so slightly when you cry out in pain. Sukuna was never one to show weakness, but in this moment, you can see that he’s in fact afraid. Afraid of losing you, afraid of something happening that he can’t control. Him, the king of curses, not in charge for this situation?

As the labor progresses, you find yourself relying on his strength, his presence a strange comfort in the midst of the pain. Sukuna’s hand find yours, his grip firm and unyielding, as if he tries to share his power with you, to keep you grounded in the storm of pain that washes over you.

“You will get through this,” he growls, his voice filled with an authority that doesn’t allow another argument.

“You are mine, and I will not let anything happen to you.”

When the final push comes, you can feel Sukuna’s grip tighten, his breath hitching as your baby’s cries echo through the room. He looks down at you, his eyes wide with something that might be shock. Or perhaps awe? You are too exhausted and filled with emotions to care.

“You did it,” he murmurs, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he looks at the tiny, wriggling form in your arms.

“You really did it.”

For a moment, Sukuna is silent, staring down at the baby with an expression you’ve never seen before - an almost hesitant curiosity.

Slowly and hesitating, he reached out, his large hand resting gently on the baby’s dark head.

“This… is ours,” he mutters, his voice filled with a strange mix of pride and possessiveness.

You nod, tears filling your eyes as you looked up at him.

“Yes, ours.”

He might be the king of curses, a being of immense power and cruelty, but in this moment, he is also a father, and you know that he’ll protect you and your child with everything he has.

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madamechrissy · 6 months ago

Text

🎁Baptise in Your Thighs Till it Hurts 🎁

🎁Pairings: Satoru Gojo x Reader x Ryomen Sukuna

🎁Summary- You are broke for Christmas, so you decide to take an offer to strip for some powerful CEO's, what you don't know is these two hand picked you, and now they're fighting over your body for Christmas- PWP there is NO PLOT lol

🎁CW- MDNI- Oral sex (m and f recieving) degradation, dollification lowkey, lots of dirty talk, Sukuna calls reader slut, whore etc- rough sex, threesome, eifel tower, multiple orgasms, p in v sex, multiple creampies, decorating reader w/xmas lights, Satoru whimpering and going feral, Sukuna smacking us around a bit, teensy bit of coke use, they're yandere, competitive sex 🎁WC- 5.1k

Comments and reblogs appreciated if you enjoy this smutfest (I'm shaming my ancestors with this one- (this header too cute for this FILTHY shit fr- this was a gift for hitting 3k followers- ya'll CHOSE thislol<3)

You’re not quite sure how you ended up here, dressed in a slutty christmas mini skirt, with white floof on the bottom, bright red fishnets and a little red top that’s covering almost none of your tits, dancing for a room of CEOs and business men. Handsome, tall, gorgeous fucking CEO’s, when you’re not in fact a stripper, on the night of Christmas Eve.

The offer had been way too good to turn down, you are slam broke after Christmas shopping and bills. There were a few other girls there, some already giving the men lap dances, the two men that are watching you eagerly, however, are Mr. Gojo and Mr. Sukuna, the ones that run this entire sky high building.

Mr. Gojo was towering tall, with shocking white hair and insane blue eyes, smirking as he watched you dance under the red glow of the giant room you all are in, it’s some insanely huge VIP room. Mr. Sukuna sits right by him, an ankle crossed over a knee, smirking at you as well, his shoulders are so broad it’s like that suit has to stretch over him, even his dress shirt is stretched on his strong chest.

He has tattoos decorating his hands, you wonder if they’re everywhere errantly as, they both watch you and murmur to themselves, you get self conscious, you wonder how you even got such an offer for this much money. Surely these men could get whoever they want, and probably experienced girls, you’re just a barista, and you only know them from serving their coffee.

One day one of their assistants came in and offered, so here you are, making more tonight then you would all month. You feel a set of ruby and azure eyes drinking in every inch of your body, as they sit alone on that red sofa, Gojo is sipping some fruity drink, Sukuna, whiskey on the rocks, vastly different, yet they both contain this cocky, rich aura.

“C’mere, sweets.” Gojo murmurs now, crooking two insanely long fingers, as the other women are taking the various men over to different rooms, giggling and running with drinks.

Is this… some sort of sex party!?

You walk over nervously, trying to get used to the insanely high platform heels, when Satoru yanks you on his lap, big hand splaying the smooth expanse of your back, bare in the scanty outfit. “Hello, Mr. Gojo.” You murmur, and he chuckles, hand slipping down to grip your ass as you sit on his thigh.

“You’re so cute. Isn’t she, Ryomen?” Satoru says softly, and Sukuna grins now, slipping a hand up your fishnet clad thighs, you gasp at the sensation.

“More than cute. Fucking sexy.” He snatches you off Satoru’s lap in two seconds, and Satoru huffs.

“Excuse me!? Rude.” Satoru snatches you back up, like you’re some toy, some little doll they’re playing with. “Me and her were talking.”

“I don’t wanna talk.” Sukuna has you back now, straddling him, it’s literally fucking obscene how you’re pressed against him, the only thing under this skirt is a bright red thong.

“Excuse me now? Are you all competing over me?” You ask, Sukuna snorts, gripping your chin roughly, squishing your cheeks.

“Mouthy brat, huh?” You glare, earning his eyebrows arrogantly.

“Ooh, she’s so cute mad, look at that nose scrunching up.” Satoru cooes, coming close and inhaling your hair, exhaling against your neck, tickling you.

“Are you sniffing me?” You demand.

“Oh she smells so good.” Satoru pulls back, grinning at you, and Sukuna turns your face to him roughly.

“Attention on me.” You roll your eyes, and earn his glare.

“I got paid to dance, not to do anything else.” You go to hop up, turning away, for you to get a resounding smack on your ass. You gasp, turning back to the two of them feigning innocence. “Listen, you two can fuck whoever, look at you all.”

They both stand now, Satoru directly in front of you, pressing you back against Sukuna’s hard body, men towering over you, men that smell good, that look good, that feel good. You gulp a bit, trembling now, feeling your nipples perk up, pressing on Satoru’s abdomen, and heat pool in your stomach.

“Sweets, all we want for Christmas is you.” Satoru says softly, leaning down, cupping your face, while Sukuna roughly grips your hips, his hard length already pressing on your back, as his mouth comes to your neck.

“You’re so fucking corny, Satoru, shut the fuck up.”

Satoru glares. “Yeah, fuck you, I’ll keep her to myself.”

“No you won’t. What he means is, we’re having you tonight, brat. We only want you.”

“We have only wanted you. Pretty barista.” Satoru smiles and kisses your lips now, with a lour ‘mwah’ earning Sukuna to turn your face to him, slamming a kiss, brutal and needy.

“You all… um I… mnh!” You cry out when Satoru’s cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, and Sukuna’s big rough hands slip around to your tummy, pressing on it, touching you over your panties, moaning.

“Already wet, Satoru. She’s so easy.”

“Stop talking about me like I’m an object. Assholes.” You glare back up at Sukuna, he seems even more pleased, Satoru reaches and touches you now too, making the panties sticky and drippy, as you clench around nothing.

“We’ll pay you double for the night.” Satoru says, and you sigh, shaking your head. “Triple?”

“I won’t fuck for money… I don’t even strip you know. Mnh!” You’re crying out again, head falling back on Sukuna’s strong chest, his starch dress shirt brushing your skin when he bites your neck, hard.

“Then let us keep making you cum all night, pretty.” Satoru’s biting the other side of your neck, your legs wobble so much you think you’ll just fucking collapse.

You feel the music thrumming along with your pounding heart and racing pulse, streaming through your veins, when Satoru’s walking you backwards, and you end up right on Sukuna’s lap. Satoru slides down your panties as Sukuna pulls up your skirt, his other arm wrapping your waist, while Satoru eyes your pussy, moaning while he gathers the slick pooling there.

“Oh my god she’s so fuckin’ pretty.” Satoru cooes, kissing the hood of your clit, you gasp at it, hands pulling on his hair. “Yes baby, pull me.”

Sukuna pulls your thighs apart as they threaten to close, laughing softly in your ear, his hands holding you open as Satoru’s part your lips. “Gotta get you nice and ready for us, brat.”

“Wh-what… I… Gojo!” You scream his name as he swipes his tongue up your slit, all while Sukuna is wrapping a huge tattooed hand around your throat.

“Satoru. While I’m drinking your pussy.” He looks up under snowy lashes at you, tongue dripping with saliva and your arousal. “She’s so yummy.”

Sukuna takes one of your hands, making you touch your puffy clit, then sucking on your finger, groaning out. “Fuck you taste good. Why don’t you cum for us, let’s feel you.”

You weakly whine out as Satoru is licking you again, this time fucking you with his tongue, Sukuna sloppy kisses you, biting your lips until they’re swollen, choking your throat tighter until you can’t breathe. Everything goes fuzzy as his ruby eyes glint, watching you hungrily as he squeezes away your oxygen, and Satoru’s tongue is in your velvety walls.

His nose bumps your clit as the wet muscle fucks you, until you’re screaming out, a hand pulling at his hair and earning his groan, when he flicks his tongue up to swirl your clit, making you cum so hard you nearly pass out. It washes over you in waves, all while Sukuna is controlling your breath, you scream out weakly, gushing wetness all over Satoru’s pretty face.

“Could crush your throat, y’know?” Sukuna whispers in your ear, letting you go as Satoru leans up, glistening from you and kissing you. You eagerly kiss him back, leaning up and crying out as Sukuna plunges two fingers in your slick hole, groaning at how your walls flutter. “Slutty little cunt.”

“Fuck.” Is all you manage, gazing at Satoru’s eyes, and Sukuna scoffs.

“I wanna keep you, I’ll eat you all the time.”

“That’s enough, up brat.” Sukuna taps your hip, Satoru helps you up, unsnapping your little bra, exhaling as your tits are revealed. Sukuna’s in front of you now, however, and Satoru sits, pulling you on him, pecking kisses up your neck as Sukuna’s pink hair is in your fingers, you pull at it and earn his moan. “Go ahead, put me where you want, little slut.”

“Little… you… ah!” He plunges his face against your cunt, devouring you at a pace you can’t stand, Satoru laughs now, turning your face to look into his pretty eyes.

“He’s so rude, I know Sweets. Oh…” You’re grinding on Sukuna’s face, head thrown back as you scream out, Sukuna bites your clit hard, the pain pricking you as Satoru is squeezing your tits. “You trying to outdo me!?”

Sukuna comes up for air, a psychotic look now on his face, he undoes his tie just a bit, before spitting on your clit, you’re gasping now. “I’ll always outdo you.”

“Will not!” Satoru says, but Sukuna plunges two fingers in your cunt, pressing up and down, working them in and out so quickly you’re a drooling mess. “Aww, look at her, so fucked out already.”

“Drooling, stupid pretty face.” You can’t manage a glare when Sukuna is fingering you like this, thick, long, calloused hands, and Satoru is pinching your nipples, kissing you and drinking in your cries, as Sukuna dives back down, one hand running over his cock, straining against his slacks, sucking your clit in his mouth as he’s pumping.

You feel the pressure building and building until your orgasm hits, you’re gushing ridiculously all over Sukuna’s face, wetness pouring on him as he laps it all up, sounds of the squelching wetness and him drinking you loud, even over the music that’s still playing. He sucks and bites each puffy lip, leaning back and smacking your pussy, as Satoru smacks your titties.

“Wh-what the… f-fuck…” You barely are able to think or function, much to their delight it seems.

“She came more for me. Amateur.” Sukuna says, and Satoru snorts, kissing a sticky hot trail up to your ear.

“She likes me better, I’m sweeter.”

“Tch, her cunt likes me better. Time to go take this somewhere else, though, what do you think, brat?”

“I’m no brat, you’re a dick.” You say with a scowl, he just smirks.

“Fuck you’re cute angry.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Satoru has the suit jacket off himself and thrown over your shoulders, bringing you against him.

“See, she likes me more.” Sukuna rolls his eyes, hoisting you up over his shoulders like you’re nothing.

“Excuse me!? Set me down now!” Satoru smacks your ass, you glare at him now. “Really, you too?”

“It’s so bouncy, I’m sorry baby.” He leads you all out into the cold night, where you’re now shivering, until you’re plopped unceremoniously into a limo by Sukuna, laying you on the seat and eyeing your body hungrily, just in a skirt, ripped fishnets and Satoru’s open jacket.

“Fuck you’re pretty.” He murmurs, surprising you for a moment, you feel him hard and heavy over you, making your mind whirl. “My place.”

“No, mine!”

“Mine is closer.” He narrows his eyes up at Satoru, as his big hands slide down to your tits, and he’s bending over, sucking one into his hot mouth, you moan, body arching up against your will.

“You’re hogging her now! Oh fine but get up.” Sukuna sighs, releasing your nipple with a pop, but he just leans over you.

“Open that mouth, little slut.” You shake your head, and Satoru is laughing as Sukuna is opening your mouth for you.

“Told ya, she likes me more, I could ask her.” Sukuna spits in your mouth, you gasp, choking on it, he kisses you messy and sloppy, before getting up, grabbing the liquor bottle and downing a shot.

“Open, pretty.” Satoru says sweetly, but you feel he’s just as devious, though you can’t turn down his pretty eyes for shit. You do as he asks, to Sukuna’s anger, and Satoru spits in your mouth now too, humming as he closes your jaw. “Swallow. Open.” You do as he says. “You’re such a good girl for me.”

“Oh fuck you, Satoru.” Sukuna pops open a ring, you look in confusion as he takes a little line of white powder and snorts it, shaking his head.

“I want some!” Satoru leans up and snorts a line, taking some of the powder now and rubbing it all over your gums, making them numb. You gasp at the sensation, only for Sukuna to take some, spreading your thighs, shoving two fingers in your cunt, making it go numb.

“Oh my… what the…”

“Coke lips times two.” Satoru says with a maniacal laugh, opening his slacks then, gently brushing your hair back. “Why don’t you use them, baby?”

You’re on your knees in the seat, turned as Satoru pulls your hair up, and reveals his long, thick cock, pink tip drooling precum already. You feel your pussy clench around nothing, lips so fucking numb you can’t stand it. You lap some of the precum up, earning his whimper, Sukuna’s back behind you, taking another shot and rubbing your clit in rough circles.

“She’s soaking wet, must love being used.” Sukuna says, you hate it, that he’s right, but you focus on Satoru’s cock now, sucking it in your numb lips, he bucks his hips up as you do, starting to suck him inch by inch, drooling saliva down his length as his precum coats your tongue.

“F-fuck… baby…” Satoru’s shoving your mouth down on him, sliding his length down your throat, you choke on it as that tip hits your uvula, pussy starting to feel so good with the mix of the cocaine, your wetness, and Sukuna’s fingers. “Oh your throat… so tight- ah!”

You hear an unbuckle behind you, pulling up with a pop now, spit dripping in lines, Satoru exhales, kissing you again, before Sukuna has you turned, and you’re faced with his insanely thick cock. It’s as big as Satoru’s if not longer, but it was so much more girthy, you actually gulp, intimidated at how the fuck it’s going to fit, much to his pleased laughter.

You weren’t even sure Gojo would fit, but… that?

“Oh no. I need a shot for this.” You say, Satoru’s snickering and Sukuna strokes his length, grabbing your chin.

“Can’t take it, brat? Too big?”

“Jesus.” He hands you a shot now, you down it quickly, before kneeling back down, starting to lick at the thick reddened tip of him, oozing so much precum it’s ridiculous.

“You can take it, slutty brat.” He huffs, Satoru is running his tip along your soppy folds, exhaling as he watches your mouth slip down Sukuna’s length, you slowly take him bit by bit, feeling him tense and moan, his head falling back.

“Her pussy… oh my god.” Satoru whines out as his tip is running between your lips, teasing your clit and making you jerk, which Sukuna uses as an opportunity to shove your mouth down his cock further, you pull up sputtering.

“Don’t do that, ugh! Dick.”

“Excuse me?” He pulls your face up and smacks it lightly then, Satoru pulls you back against him.

“Don’t smack her pretty face.” Satoru kisses your cheek where it’s stinging, you glare at Sukuna, smacking him right back, making his cock twitch and Satoru snort in laughter as he pulls you back to suck him, fucking up into your mouth.

“She liked it.” Sukuna smacks your ass hard now, and you do like it, you’re moaning all over Satoru’s cock, slobbering on it. “Now get back here.”

“Ask nicely.” You say, and he shakes his head, brows raised as he leans over you.

“Fuck no. Come get this cock down your throat, if you can take it all I’ll make sure to pay you triple.”

“Nope, not wrecking my throat. I like to be able to swallow.” Sukuna rolls his eyes, yanking you back, you’re sucking him down helplessly. “You like it, don’t you, being used?”

You’re whining when Satoru’s stupidly long fingers sink into you. “She’s so ready to get filled.”

The car stops, and you’re wrapped back up in a jacket, this time Satoru has you picked up in his arms, bridal style versus Sukuna’s caveman tactics, as they lead you in an elevator up to Sukuna’s penthouse. You barely register how gorgeous his place is, how sleek and nice, when Sukuna’s yanking Christmas lights down, and Satoru’s sliding a Christmas hat on each of you.

“In the spirit you know.” You blink rapidly, Satoru has slipped off your skirt, eyeing your red fishnets. “Should we keep these on?”

“Yes but take off her heels, I feel she’ll try to kick me.” You giggle, earning both of their sardonic looks, and you then quiet. Satoru bends down, taking off your heels, as you stare at the lights Sukuna is holding in his hands.

“Sukuna… what the hell are those for?” Sukuna begins to wrap them under your tits, and soon Satoru and Sukuna are decorating you like some fucking tree, Satoru is wrapping one of your legs and literally giggling, and Sukuna one of your arms, the lights are glittering and glowing against your skin. “What the fuck, how coked out are you two?”

“Very.” They answer together, Satoru’s eyeing your tits hungrily, the rope of lights sits under and above them, pronouncing them beautifully, the santa hat tipping over his white hair just so when he smacks kisses on them.

“Me first.” Satoru says suddenly, and he’s carrying you over to the bed now, some insanely huge and fancy four post bed, with a beautiful floor to ceiling window outlooking the city.

“She’ll have to loosen up for me anyway.”

“Oh whatever.” You’re on your hands and knees now, the lights pressing into your flesh, Satoru’s burying his face against your pussy again, as Sukuna’s undressing, revealing a muscular, ripped body covered in black tattoos. He’s so sexy your mouth goes dry, much to the asshole’s pleasure.

“Cat got your tongue, brat?” He raises a brow, so cocky.

“Nope.” But you eagerly grab at his released cock, stroking him up and down, tongue flicking over the veins. Sukuna moans, head falling back, while you suck as much of him as you can.

“That’s it, she’s finally being a good girl.” Sukuna muses, Satoru’s got your clit in his mouth, making you so close you’re about to cum again, before he’s now lining his cock up with your little hole.

“Ready, sweets?” He asks, you turn back and look at him with lidded eyes, his lean, chiseled body, like made of marble.

“Y-yes.”

He smacks his tip on your cunt over and over. “And what do we say?”

“Please, Satoru- ah!” Satoru sinks his cock inside you in one long stroke, so long he bottoms out and hits your cervix, you scream out, opening your mouth for Sukuna’s thick ass dick to slam back in your mouth.

“F-fuck she feels s’good… she’s so tight.” Satoru whines, fucking into you, hands grabbing your bare hips, further pressing the little led bulbs and wires into your skin, you’re cumming all over him so quick it’s stupid. “So easy, huh? Just getting started baby.”

Satoru’s sweet boy act is essentially ended, he goes feral as he fucks into you, his heavy balls smacking your clit, you hear the noise of his skin smacking yours, and you gulping Sukuna’s cock as much as you can. “Look at me, now.”

You obey him, this random stranger, his voice commanding as he cups your face, fucking your throat as Satoru fucks your pussy. You’re so filled as they pull and push you between them both, choking you and stuffing you so full. Sukuna’s eyes are dilated to the point they look black, and Satoru’s now rolling his hips just so, forcing your eyes to roll back in your skull at how good it feels.

“Fuck she’s tryna milk me.” He whines out, leaning over you, you feel drips of his sweat on your bare skin when he’s bending over you completely, and your walls are gripping him like a vise. “Baby you’re sucking him s’good, look at you.”

“Perfect, pretty little whore.” Sukuna agrees, Satoru’s pulling your hair now, yanking you off Sukuna, pulling you onto your knees and fucking up into you, you scream out, while Sukuna comes and smacks your face again, each cheek, sharply hurting. “Admit you like it.”

“Oh f-fuck off… I like Satoru better.” Sukuna’s eyebrows go low, canines showing as he grins, finger pressing against your clit, forcing you to cum again all over Satoru’s cock.

“Knew she liked m-me more. Saw her first.” Satoru kisses you now, licking up Sukuna’s precum right off your lips, as you register his words, weakly shaking, your body trying to register all the pleasure it’s given.

“Saw me first?” You mumble, but now Sukuna has pulled you off Satoru, bending you over the bed, your feet are just dangling his bed is so fucking tall, and now Satoru’s cock is back in your face, he’s brushing your hair back sweetly. “No… what do you mean saw me first.”

“I saw you first, Satoru’s just the one that had the idea before me.” Sukuna’s thwacking his heavy cock on your ass, groaning as he pulls your thighs apart, fingers trailing down the ropes of lights coming off your left thigh, wrapping it back on. “Look at your slutty cunt, so cock thirsty, beat up already”

“Your pussy is pretty.” Satoru says with a smile, gasping as your tongue runs back up his pretty cock. “Mmm, taste how sweet you are?”

“Bring her roses too, simp. Oh my… fuck never mind- ah- don’t… blame you… fuck…”

“Ah!” Your back arches as you let out a muffled cry.

Sukuna’s groaning as he sinks inside your eager cunt, luckily Satoru stretched you some, because taking him is too much, you’re bucking your hips damn near fleeing, he grunts and drags them back. “Oh don’t run, brat.”

“You can take him, baby.” Satoru’s shoving his cock back up inside your mouth now, and tears prick your eyes as he gags you, and Sukuna’s sliding his cock even deeper, burning and stretching your skin.

“Your cunt is perfect. Fuck you’re not leaving.”

“Excuse-ah!” You go to say something, but Sukuna’s sinking even deeper, meanly bullying his way through your walls until he stuffs you so full, you’re screaming around Satoru’s length, Sukuna’s pressing your head down further, and Satoru is moaning and whimpering, cock twitching in your mouth.

“Oh, make her do it again, fuck… and I want her at my place.” You’re deep throating Satoru as Sukuna moves, and he fucks you hard, brutal, but it’s so goddamn good you can’t stand it. You’re whining as you look up at pretty blue eyes, feeling Satoru’s long fingers curl around your throat.

“Not a chance. Cunt is made for me.” Sukuna huffs, slamming you harder, pulling your hair and pulling you off Satoru, in some insane game they’re playing with you. Satoru taps your open mouth with his cock over and over, you whine out as his tip is rubbing your spot, making you see stars. “Oh she’s close again, ha!” He slams his cock so deep you feel like you’re split apart.

“You’re too rough with her. Tell him you like me more.” Sukuna fucks into you now, hammering his cock so fast you scream, unable to do anything but drool, dazed and stupid. “Sukuna let her talk.”

“Need to cum inside her, fuck, brat has the best pussy.”

“N-not a brat.” You manage to whisper, they both laugh at your attempt.

“She’s so cute, ugh.” Satoru pinches your cheeks now, before you know it Satoru is on his back and you’re riding him, or trying to, he’s so monstrous you’re basically shaking and trying to fuck half his cock, as Sukuna’s behind you, slipping two fingers up your little ass hole, you start gushing and throbbing around Satoru’s cock.

“Get the lights off me.” You mumble weakly, and they both ignore you, your hands are braced on Satoru’s chest, he looks at you with lust filled blue eyes, biting his full lower lip and pressing his fingers into your pelvis, when Sukuna picks you up, shoving his cock in your pussy instead, slamming into you, before putting you back on Satoru’s cock again.

Sukuna’s hand wraps back around your throat as you ride Satoru’s cock weakly, Satoru’s hitting that spot so deep, you’re hoarsely crying out now, shaking as you cling to both of them. “Can you take us both at once?”

“No way.”

“In the ass-”

“No way!” Satoru pouts up at you.

“Baby I wanna fuck your ass so bad though.”

“Uh-uh. And certainly not you.” You scowl back at Sukuna, who tightens his hand with a laugh.

“I’m cumming inside you first then.” Sukuna lifts you, they both are throwing you around like some little fucking rag doll, Satoru’s stroking his cock as Sukuna has you on your back, pressing your thighs up high, the ropes of the lights burning, you cry out, and he looks down at your tummy, grinning. “God look at you, fucked out little slut.”

You’re gasping when Sukuna leans low, his heavy weight on you as he slides your thighs so high, one over his shoulder, arch of your foot against his chest, making him so much deeper. You see the huge bulge move inside your tummy, making you heat up, cheeks furiously hot as you’re soaking his length.

“Can you take two loads baby?” Satoru asks, laying next to you now, jerking his cock, you weakly nod, earning his kiss, before Sukuna’s got your mouth again.

“Gonna fill you so full, gonna drip us for days, then fill you again. Slutty brat, want it huh?” You nod again, because you’re fucked too stupid to argue, and when Sukuna shoves so deep you’re cumming again, milking his cock for all his sticky white ropes of cum, drooling out of your hole now, down his cock. “Fuck… fuck… you…”

He kisses you, oddly sweet for pounding you full as you’re roped in Christmas lights, his santa hat falling to the side finally, pushing more and more cum inside you, exhaling and finally getting just a tiny bit less hard. You’re spasming, orgasm washing through your wrecked body and mind. Sukuna kisses down your neck, brushing your hair back and looking at you.

“Gonna knock you the fuck up, hah.” You gasp, eyes widening, making him grin like a psycho again.

“No, she’ll have my babies thank you.” Satoru’s on you next, shoving his cock inside you, you’re already dripping Sukuna’s cum as he does, it’s so filthy and nasty, the wet sounds Satoru’s cock makes, as he’s on top of you, and watching his own bulge in your tummy, now grinning like a psycho himself. “Oh fuck, feel me?”

“Everywhere.” You murmur weakly, because you do, and your words make him moan out, slamming your thighs up in a mating press, you’re folded in half as he fucks out Sukuna’s cum and yours.

“Gonna get his all out before I fill you with mine. I’ll cum even more. Fill you s’good pretty girl.” Satoru’s eyes are so bright blue it’s impossible to look at, but your own eyes are slamming shut as the nth orgasm hits, you’re covered in goosebumps as Sukuna watches you all, his cock still heavy and semi hard, in fact it’s getting hard again already.

You’re clinging to the sheets under you weakly, Satoru’s pumping his hips, you’re so wet your cunt greedily sucks him up, Satoru’s long fingers press deeply against your calves as he rails you, slowing finally, hips stuttering, you start feeling him thicken so deep. He’s grabbing your face with both hands now, whining into your mouth as he fills you full of cum.

Your second load pumped is even more cum than Sukuna, he’s stuttering his hips as he lets out breathy cries, you’re shaking as he shoves his cum so deep, against your cervix, pumping it more and more. You feel like you’re going to pass out when he’s finally done, you feel too full, feel it in your stomach, and soon Sukuna is on one side, Satoru on the other, untangling you.

They pull off the lights and are brushing their fingertips up and down your skin, covered in lines and forming bruises. Satoru’s gently kissing them, and Sukuna is humming with pleasure as he presses against the divots in your soft skin. You’re struggling to get a coherent thought to work in your fucked out brain when Sukuna stands now.

“Shower, brat?” He asks, and you exhale, nodding.

“Yeah but I can’t stand up.” You earn two big ass grins, Sukuna picks you up and carries you, Satoru’s firm ass is jiggling just a bit as he runs over to the bathroom, starting the hot spray.

“Weak and pathetic.” Sukuna says, with a tsk, you glare up at him again, as he takes off the santa hat that somehow stayed on your head, you have absolutely no clue how so. “But so fucking pretty like this.”

“So pretty.” Satoru turns you to him, kissing you deeply, you limply fall against him, body still shaking, cum dripping out from both of them, sticky on your thighs, you feel fucking boneless now. “I’ll wash your hair, sweets.”

“Mmhm.” Is all you manage, now the three of you are in the huge tiled stand up shower, Sukuna closes the glass, entrapping you all in the steamy hot spray, it beats down on your body, making your aches ease as the scalding water hits.

“And you’ll wash my hair, brat.” Sukuna says, you snort.

“You’re too tall.” He gets on his knees, Satoru’s cock is pressing on your back as he massages your scalp, kissing down your neck, and Sukuna is staring up at your bare cunt, all puffy from how much it’s been through. You gasp when he kisses it.

“Merry Christmas to me.” He murmurs, lapping at you again, Satoru is biting your neck and wrapping his arms around you.

“Our little present.” Satoru smacks little mwahs of kisses, big hands gripping your tits. “You’re so on the naughty list now.”

Sukuna laughs against you. “You’re an idiot, Satoru.”

Thank you all again for 3k, now I'm going to... take a shower after editing this.

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