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damn-stark · 3 days

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Chapter 36 Be The One Fallen from Grace, be Death

Chapter 36 of Sugar

A/N- More tears, but also a great fight ;)

Warning- Swearing, ANGST, fluff, violence and blood, talks of DEATH, suicide, and pregnancy, flashback, SPOILERS!!!! long chapter!

Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Episode and or chapters- 239-243 and then the first half of 249

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

Grief has never been kind. Perhaps it was never meant to be kind, but this time besides sorrow, grief comes with livid anger.

You feel it within you. Like a blaring red alarm warning of incoming danger, like a tilting glass object on an edge ready to fall and shatter, like furious liquid lava boiling within and rising to the top to get ready to explode and spread havoc with no remorse.

You also feel like spreading chaos for the hell of it, because you’re hurt and you can’t pick up the pieces. You hate serene peace but also crave its infinite embrace.

You can do it, you can be like a great disaster, a deadly plague that terrorized that Egyptian pharaoh centuries ago. You want people to feel your deep pain, but…how selfish does that sound? When there are other targets out in the open for you to hunt and kill?

Waiting albeit might be the death to your patience that runs low already. First Takaba has to trap Kenjaku with his cursed technique, and once Kenjaku is so deeply entranced then you can go for the kill. You’re waiting for that to go down, but Takaba just started so it will probably take some time, much to your dismay considering you’re alone with Okkotsu and his cursed spirit.

Bummer.

This is worse than having to endure being by a person you just talked shit about behind their back, this is like being alone with your parents. Only you tried to kill Okkotsu’s friends and him.

Tsk, what a life.

“I’m sorry.”

Oh, he speaks.

He’s so strong yet so awkward, your father would hate him. He’d be like if you have no confidence then what’s the point of being the strongest, or a sorcerer? You can’t cower and blah, blah.

“For what?” You probe and keep looking past the tree line to try and get a glimpse of Takaba and Kenjaku, but they’ve moved so you’ve lost sight of them. Which means you have to move along to keep sight of them.

“For your loss,” Okkotsu shares kindly, making you halt in your tracks and look down, whilst he just slows down and keeps adding on. “And for being Suguru Geto’s demise.”

You gasp and clench your hands to fists.

If Suguru were still alive you’d have Kiyoshi, Nanako, and Mimiko would still be alive, your family wouldn’t have betrayed you, and perhaps all this disaster wouldn't have happened so soon. You also probably wouldn’t talk to Satoru, you wouldn’t have made amends with Shoko, or met Hakari and Kirara, or Choso—no you would have, he’d be different and you wouldn’t have fallen in love with him so the twins you’re expecting now would not exist, your life would’ve been different, but Suguru…Suguru would’ve been alive.

Oh, Suguru.

No matter how much life has changed, your heart will always yearn for him. He was your first love, your husband, your beloved, the one who was always there first.

Satoru killed him—That’s right your brother killed him, Okkotsu pushed him close to death, but he could’ve been saved, it was Satoru who took him away from you. You can admit that it took a while to admit it.

Maybe it only set in your heart now that Satoru is gone too, or it was Okkotsu’s apology—even if it wasn’t Okkotsu who made the kill.

You just needed to hear those heavy words, maybe not from him, but Satoru isn’t here now and you could never make him say it, so hearing Okkotsu say it is a close second, something to aid your bleeding heart.

“Oh,” your voice quivers and you start walking again to fall by his side and meet his droopy eyes. “It wasn’t you Okkotsu.”

It took a lot for you to say it but you finally did and it surprises the boy.

“But…thank you,” you tell him with no ounce of hesitation, not a sound of forced acceptance because of your circumstances. You mean what you say and it leaves him speechless with only the ability to look at the deep but beautiful sorrow haunting your face.

“I…” you hesitate now and avert your gaze to look out and make sure you’re not caught before you’re supposed to pop out. “I’m sorry for hating you. It was easier hating you than piling something else on,” you pause as your brother's name reaches the tip of your tongue, and no matter how much you want to say it you can’t bring yourself to utter a syllable of his name.

“…on him,” you say instead because you know Okkotsu will understand. “You didn't deserve it.”

“Oh,” Okkotsu scoffs nervously and slows down to keep an eye on the men fighting instead. “Well, I understood. It’s okay.”

You share a mostly forced laugh and peer at him over your shoulder. “It’s okay to say you don’t forgive me. I won’t break. I would understand.”

Okkotsu quickly shakes his head. “No, no I don’t hold any grudges against you. It’s really okay.”

You won’t fall into a never-ending cycle so you take it as it is, you really don’t care. You just needed to share that and ease yourself of that weight of hating a kid for what he didn’t do.

“Your girlfriend must be mad that we got paired up. I would really hate to face her wrath, I mean I didn’t fight Toji Zen’in but hearing about him was enough of an experience. So I’d rather keep things passive with her.” you point out to keep things lighthearted.

For the first time since you got here, Okkotsu finally stops dead in his tracks, and as you hear him you look back at him and see that a furious blush has taken over his face.

Was it something you said?

Were you not supposed to not know that he’s dating Maki?!

“Girlfriend?” He almost chokes on his own saliva.

“Uh, Maki Zen’in?”

His face grows even more red and he quickly shuts you down without actually being loud. “No, no, no. She’s not my girlfriend! She’s just a friend. Yes, just a friend.” He laughs nervously and offers you a sheepish smile.

Oh shit!

This is the last time you gossip with Hakari and Kirara—then again you weren’t really gossiping, you were all assuming by looking at how close the pair is.

“Oh sorry. I just assumed,” you say in a quick breath and laugh nervously before you look ahead and hide how embarrassed you feel and look.

“It’s okay,” he says once again and that’s probably the only thing he’ll be capable of saying to you from now on. How embarrassing.

Why couldn’t you and Choso come here together? Him killing his father would be poetic justice. Plus it wouldn’t be awkward and you’d be comforted by his presence even if he was being quiet. He’s so far now, so far and you’re left in the dark about his fate.

Maybe you’ve been clingy, maybe it’s due to your fear of being alone, but right now you wish you wouldn’t be far, or that he wouldn’t be out of sight, that way you can look out for him and save him from any fatal danger.

Which is funny because he wishes the same thing, it’s just…if you lose him you know you won’t love another soul ever again. Who else could love such a wicked creature like you the way he does?

So please higher beings, or whoever looks out for the mortals on earth, please, please don’t take Choso away.

“Oh damn,” Okkotsu whispers with shock.

You spot a cursed spirit in the distance surveilling the forest and stretch your arm out to point your finger at the distant curse.

“What is it?” You quiere as you shoot a fire orb from your finger and thankfully manage to exorcize the cursed spirit before it could spot you. “Or,” you sigh and put your hand down. “Who is it?”

Okkotsu clears his throat. “Kashimo,” he reveals.

You clench your jaw and rub the bridge of your nose.

Truth is you didn’t know him for long at all, he was kind of rude, and very much egoistical, but still…he was your friend.

A friend you knew would die, he would say it. It’s the way his cursed technique worked, and that’s why he chose to come back, so he could use his technique against Sukuna and die fighting. However, maybe you got a bit carried away and hoped he’d live so he could continue to be annoying, and stay close to Kirara and Hakari whom he had become friends with. But he, like everyone else, is gone.

At least he went out fighting his beloved.

“And,” Okkotsu adds to the morbid news. “Sukuna is finally in his true form. Yuji and Higuruma are next.”

Well, you all hoped Sukuna would unleash his final form, it would be pretty pointless continuing to go out and fight him if he kept using Fushiguro’s body because he would only get boosted up after wearing everyone down or after killing everyone. At least now you can all go all out and have a chance to kill him. Once and for all this time.

“Well, we expected that much huh?” You mutter and stop as you get a good view of Kenjaku and Takaba fighting in the forest now.

“Hopefully this won’t take long,” Okkotsu adds as he falls beside you. “I don’t want to leave the others waiting too long.”

You let out a deep sigh and drop your gaze to the necklace Choso gave you. “Yeah,” you quietly agree. “Me neither. But even if Takaba can’t stand a chance, I’m sure you, Rika, and I can take him…We will kill Kenjaku,” you proclaim with a wicked smirk on your features.

——

*A FEW YEARS BACK*

“I had a dream,” you speak airily as you tap your fingers together.

Suguru answers with silence like you expected. He’s usually so curious about listening to you share your ridiculous dreams, but lately, he’s been…distant. He seems to be in his head a lot. It’s begun to worry you, and you’ve pointed it out to Satoru but he says to just let him be.

You can’t just be so ignorant of Suguru’s feelings, he’s your boyfriend. He’s been there for you at your lowest, you have to treat him the same. You don’t want to be those couples who avoid talking about their feelings hiding right under the surface to keep the honeymoon phase unbothered.

“…that you told me what bothered you,” you quickly redirect to him and nudge his knee with yours.

Finally, after seeming to be stuck in a storm of his thoughts, he comes out looking lost. “What? Sorry.”

You swallow back nervously and push yourself to your knees on your bed to face him better without having to crane your neck, and take his hand. “You’re worrying me Suguru,�� you get straight to the point now that he’s only heightened your worry to the point you feel it in the pit of your stomach.

“Lately you’ve seemed distant, like your mind is miles away, are you okay?” You share your concern, causing his eyes to flicker down but his expression to remain frozen in that nonchalance.

“Yeah,” Suguru almost seems to bring up that answer like it was rehearsed. “I’m fine, darling, don’t worry about me.”

For a moment, for a flicker of a second, you see a crease between his thin and dark eyebrows, but he makes sure to play it off as nothing.

“Suguru,” you coerce him softly and lean over to rest your hand on his leg, and that touch on such a delicate place always gains his attention. Just like now, his deep and dark eyes meet your gaze, and you see a dark storm brewing within, reflecting a peril you can’t quite dissect yet. You’ll get there.

“Talk to me. You can trust me, you know that.” You say and pull out a strand of his hair so he can wear his usual bang.

Meanwhile, Suguru immediately finds it in him to nod so you won’t think otherwise. “Of course I trust you, but there’s nothing wrong, it's just teenage blues. Normal, don’t worry about me.”

Teenage blues?

Yeah, you feel a bit gloomy sometimes, Belinda says it’s normal because you’re growing, but for Suguru, there’s been a distinct gloom haunting him. And you know it’s still there, you see it underneath the surface. But maybe he’s not ready to share what he feels just yet, so you’ll give him space and just show him some more appreciation than you already do.

“So tell me,” Suguru quickly changes the subject as he leans over and snakes an arm around your shoulders to swiftly turn you around and lay you back against him. “What was this dream about?”

“You know,” you don’t address that yet, you just need to lift his spirits a bit. “I’d be a hot housewife.”

Suguru’s fingers stiffen on your skin and he quickly picks at your comment in confusion. “What do you mean?”

You push yourself up and twist your body to face him as you remain at his side. “I would make a hot wife,” you repeat before you lean closer to explain the thought process behind your comment. “If it’s this part of your life that’s bothering you, you could wait until I turn 18 because that’s when I get my inheritance. And when we get that money, and with the money we make here, we could,” you pause and shrug suggestively. “Move somewhere far away from curses. Somewhere like Alaska, Fiji, Hawaii?” You suggest in a playful tone, making two emotions battle within him, amusement and admiration.

“We would probably have to pick up some odd jobs so we won't get bored, but we could live comfortably,” you continue to tell a dream that you make up at the spot, but one that could be a possibility. “We could live by the beach, far from Japan and this part of our world. We could live good lives.”

You were a rich girl, like an old money rich that would never know a day of poverty, your own kids would never know it, nor the kids after them. And this world you so easily wanted to cast aside was your entire world, you haven’t known anything else but this world of cursed energy and all that comes with it, so hearing you say you would risk not living such a luxurious life away from the world you knew leaves Suguru besotted.

“You’d do that?” He can’t help but ask so pathetically.

Not like you cared or let it boost your ego, you continue to look at him like he's the sweetest thing in this world, like he's a beautiful starry night. That softness never fades from your eyes nor from your voice. “Of course. As long as I’m with you I would be happy to leave this world behind.”

He knew that. He knew that you would have no debate leaving this sorcerer world behind because of how poorly your family treated you, but even yet, how silly is loving someone? Even if he knew, hearing you pour your heart out still steals his breath away.

“Well then if I ever feel like running off…” he pauses and exhales deeply as he feels so enamored by your sweet words. “I know who I’ll turn to.”

You smile giddily and lean in to press a peck on his lips. “You need only say the words.” You whisper.

Suguru smiles softly and hums. “I love you,” he says so tenderly. “More than anything.”

Your breath catches as if it’s the first time hearing those enchanting words and you stare at him dumbfoundedly before a silly lovestruck smile tugs on your lips. “I love you too Suguru.”

Suguru slowly cups your jaw and presses his lips against yours to feel the warm and wet feeling of your lips on his. Which is such an intimate act that always makes you nervous.

“So are you going to tell me that dream of yours?” He finally returns to your previous subject, making you pull back to lay back against him.

“Well,” you finally share lightheartedly. “I was standing in a pool of blood, I was covered in it and all I know is that I’m turning into a curse. But,” you add much to his surprise. “I wasn’t scared because you were there too.”

Suguru picks up your fingers to just mindlessly fiddle with them before he teases. “You do know what a nightmare is right?”

You roll your eyes and nod. “Yes, but it wasn’t a nightmare because you were there before you started doing, like, weird flips.”

Suguru snorts softly and you can't help but get lost in the moment and laugh with him. However, you come to an abrupt stop and tilt your head back to meet his gaze that's intently on you. “Swear to me that if I ever turn to a curse you’ll kill me. I don’t want to lose control of myself.”

Suguru’s eyebrows knit together with disbelief but before he can try and talk you out of this fear-filled pact you press him. “Just humor me.”

Suguru exhales deeply and chooses not to argue his way around this. “Alright. Swear.”

You sigh with relief before you then grow serious but reassuring at the same time. “If you ever turn to a curse I’ll exorcize you. I promise, even if it takes my soul and my ability to love again I will do it.”

Suguru’s cheeks grow a tint of pink that he can’t hide because you’re so close.

“And if we lose our minds together,” you continue playfully. “We can be like Romeo and Juliet and kill one another.”

Suguru shakes his head, but you cut him off before he can correct you. “Lovers suicide, how romantic.” You sigh and press your hand against your chest to dramatically recite a quote. “Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears; What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.”

“How do you memorize a quote but not the ending?” Suguru teases you with a bit of judgment, you sense it. But whatever.

“It’s my favorite quote from that story,” you brush him off. “Like it?”

“Of course.” He assures you nonetheless, making your heart swoon and a happy smile tug on your lips. For he always knew how to make you smile with so much glee, and so did you always find a way to pull a genuine smile out of him that's filled with nothing but endearment. Even if a deep anguish clouds over him.

——

*NOW*

More than anything is what he would always say. At first, you didn’t know the meaning behind that—it’s just a simple phrase is what you’d always think, something sweet from someone even sweeter, but then, after his defection, as the years passed and Suguru changed, that phrase never left his vocabulary and that’s when you knew that he really loved you over everything and more than life itself.

You didn't just live for the hope of it all, you lived for each other. Which is so cheesy, and so clinging, but no non-sorcerer or anyone could understand the true meaning behind something so deep.

Which is why it’s so weird now—Not living without him, you can live without Suguru now. At first, going on and dragging your feet through life was like a person going through withdrawal, only there was no chance you could get your fix after his death. No curse and no cursed energy could bring him back, so you were stuck.

But now, you’ve healed. You would like to say that you don’t love so deeply anymore, but…you’re married already after 2 months of knowing Choso, and there's a chance you could relive all that trauma of loss again, but you’re not hurting now. Not about that love.

But even then it’s weird watching Kenjaku parading around in Suguru’s body. You quickly told them apart, you knew the deep workings of Suguru's soul after all, but seeing that long black hair draped over his back, seeing those dark passionate eyes, and that precious face makes you feel all dizzy—until you see the unique stitches.

It’s so surreal, more so because as you pay attention to Takaba and Kenjaku, you see Suguru’s body turned into a female nurse because of Takaba’s technique. Kenjaku is a female nurse. It’s…Well, there’s a possibility of what adult Satori could look like.

You always wanted a glimpse into the future, you never thought you would get one this way….

This fight is odd, it’s like watching a bad sitcom. What did you sign up to?

“What the hell is the matter with you!” Takaba bellows as he wears doctors get up to act out whatever scene you just focused on. “Is that how you treat someone in the pits of despair?! Well?!”

“You don’t look very depressed to me!”

No, no, you get it now, this is like those sitcoms they dump into the graveyard hours on TV, the time slots hardly anyone watches. Yeah! That’s it.

“Fine, fine,” Takaba pretends to deescalate whatever it is they’re fighting about in that fake reality. “We’ll settle this fair and square with rock, paper, scissors.”

Takaba and Kenjaku clasp their hands together and raise them over their heads, whilst you tilt your head and assume they’ll suddenly spin around like western cowboys in a standoff. You actually almost get amused, but…they start to dance and sing.

Would it be wrong to say you prefer blood and destruction? Like, yes, you love funny stuff, but considering who you left behind and the battle going on miles away, this is distasteful. And gross considering they just stabbed each other's fingers in each other's noses.

The one good thing is that their scenes keep changing. Like now for example, now they’re competing in those question games that air on TV, and Kenjaku’s face is contorting into silly facial expressions Suguru would do when he was in his high school years, and once when he was trying to make baby Satori laugh. Did he?

No, she just stared at him with judgy and beady eyes. It was the cutest thing and a lot funnier than his attempt at making her laugh.

Yet even if you reminisce about the past, when you lift your eyes your hatred for this man grows livid.

How much longer will you have to keep watching this? At this rate, you’ll end up falling asleep!

You groan under your breath and then frown with displeasure before you lean your body against the side of the tree and watch a street suddenly appear on the ground, and a black cat crossing a pedestrian crosswalk. It almost seems like it’s going to be hit by oncoming traffic, so as the fake sidewalk light turns red, Takaba tries to save it even if the car gets closer.

However, when he’s about to grab the cat, it suddenly turns to…Kenjaku!

He’s a freaky cat hybrid!

And now that you look at him look like some humanoid cat he’s actually terrifying rather than funny. You almost want to laugh at how creepy he looks, but you stand straight-faced and actually, feel impressed when the car from before hits Takaba, but he bounces out of the way with no repercussions.

It’s honestly very amazing and a great example of his powers.

Kenjaku even seems caught off guard by the suddenness of Takaba’s counter, but it’s a quick reaction before suddenly in a blink of an eye Takaba is a humanoid cat too and he’s drowning.

Kenjaku then appears on a surfboard and goes to his rescue. “Wait right there!! I’m coming to save you!!”

This time Takaba gets payback for Kenjaku’s surprise attack, and appears from behind Kenjaku with a Jetski, and slams right into his back, seeming to knock the wind out of Kenjaku. But before you can watch him hit the ground, the entire scene changes and it’s played off like Takaba is splashing him with water.

What a fake out! Boo!

“You got me good!” Kenjaku laughs along and splashes water at Takaba, creating a playful and almost serene scene.

Almost! Because then in a matter of a second the scene violently changes and Kenjaku is trying to drown Takaba with a sinister look on his face.

Alas, Takaba turns things around and plays it off to save himself. “Wait a sec!” Takaba cuts in humorously. “Taste some of this seawater!”

Kenjaku scoops up the water and his face lights up. “This isn’t water, it’s Fanta!” He laughs and you feel like you’re going to throw up.

This can’t be real. Please! Someone come kill you right now!

Anyhow the scene changes and Kenjaku and Takaba are in suits now in front of a stage of a real-looking audience.

“Huh?” Takaba seems to genuinely be confused by the change, but he also seems to be filled with awe.

“You’ve already warmed up plenty, haven’t you?” Kenjaku directs at Takaba. “Let’s do this partner.”

Takaba’s cheeks slowly redden and his response is given breathlessly. “Yeah.”

They both go up to the mic and like some heavenly intervention, Okkotsu finally distracts you from the horrible show. “Can I ask you something? If that’s fine.”

You keep your eyes on the men just to keep an eye on the scene and make sure your part isn’t coming up soon, but you still gracefully address Okkotsu’s question. “Depends what it is. Go on.”

You hear Okkotsu swallow nervously before he gets less confident and nervously brings up his question. “Why did you leave? I mean defect from school, from Jujutsu society?”

You scoff and immediately counter the boy. “I didn’t defect from Jujutsu society. That’s kind of ignorant of you to say, Okkotsu—”

“Oh, oh no, I—”

“Listen,” you cut off his nervous rambling. “Just because I didn't fit into this cookie image of what the higher-ups think a sorcerer should be, doesn’t mean I was out of the Jujutsu society. I was still a part of it. I was a curse-user, sure, but I was still here, I just changed my way of thinking that’s all,” you actually care to explain only because what you’re watching is boring.

“There’s many reasons that go into why I left,” you continue to explain. “Love, trauma, exhaustion, search for myself, and to sum it up realization,” you say and pause to stand up straight and draw out a deep breath.

“I realized,” you add and slowly lower your head to look at your nails.“That the non-sorcerers weren’t worth saving. No matter how heroic we are, they will always be selfish…we die trying to save them from the horrors they create and they clap and cheer at the death of an innocent young girl, they experiment on each other to achieve horrors that they can’t see. They hurt little kids because they’re different, because they themselves fear what they create, so why would I try and risk my life to save them when I could help us?” You rant as if you’re spewing your evil monologue to the hero. No remorse or pity. Just frustration and ache.

“That’s why I left Okkotsu,” you finish and lift your head to peer at him over your shoulder. He doesn’t look nervous, he stiffens when your eyes meet his, but he isn’t fidgety.

“But,” he surprises you by saying. “You’re ignorant too then…” he hesitates but his gaze doesn’t falter, and his lips twitch nervously. “Sorcerers are the same. We just have the power and the ability to not create horror, we’re strong and they’re not. Chaos and order.”

Rather than getting upset, you grin Instead over the fact that he’s quoting you.

“I’m selfish Okkotsu,” you admit with no sign of remorse. “If I have to pick between one evil, I pick us every time.” You could go on and on over why it will always be sorcerers over nonsorceres, but why should you waste your breath in explaining it to him? He's got strong beliefs. Besides, now doesn’t seem like the time to divulge into your deeper inner thinking.

“Hm, well I won’t say I see the way you think, but I appreciate you sharing your response with me,” Okkotsu says.

You answer with a hum and casually return your attention to the men.

“Hey, you okay?” You catch Kenjaku asking Takaba.

You sigh and lean back on the tree before you lift your hand to scratch your cursed worm's chin, making him lean towards you to appreciate your gesture.

“Yeah,” Takaba says breathlessly as his eyes take in the crowd. “I’m just thinking about curtains…”

Finally, what a drag!

“…on the show of my dreams…up until now you could probably say I wasn’t even qualified to spell the word comedian,” Takaba explains as his voice grows more and more shaky as his emotions rise. “But up on this stage, even your fangirls are making me happy. I want to keep going, I don’t want this to end!”

Kenjaku seems pensive, no malice lies behind his eyes, nor in his voice as he comforts his opponent. “Don’t cry, you’ll spoil the mood.”

He pats Takaba’s chest and everything changes back to the forest, but Takaba lays on the ground with a gown and head mirror on his head. Which means one thing now, this is your time.

It’s curtains for them, but what about an encore?

“It’s time, Okkotsu,” you let the boy know what he’s already preparing for, and with not a moment to spare while Kenjaku is babbling on, Okkotsu runs out of the forest and sneaks up to Kenjaku from behind without even causing the man to bat an eye.

The plan is for Okkotsu to catch Kenjaku off guard and slice his head off, while you come out as backup because Kenjaku can’t seem to let go of life and will probably leave with a fight. Thus you stride out calmly since you completely trust Okkotsu to execute his fatal move.

And while you’re moving out, you see Kenjaku shut up and suddenly grow stiff and baffled as a realization seems to hit him as almost out of nowhere Okkotsu appears behind him.

“Curse technique reversal antigravity—” Kenjaku announces, making you transfer your cursed energy to the ground to rip chunks of the earth to get over to them and quickly rebuttal Kenjaku, but, luckily Okkotsu uses his advantage and quickly swings his katana to slice Kenjaku’s head off, letting you drop the pieces of earth and…gasp out of a sudden flash of horror.

You see Suguru’s dark eyes deep with complexity, his terrified expression painted over his face and you see your husband for a second. A second! But it’s enough to fool your mind into thinking it was him who was killed.

Realization thankfully hits you when you hear the head flop on the ground, but your heart is still trying to calm down from that freight that ramped up its speed.

“Was that your plan,” you hear Kenjaku interject in that deeper voice he could never mold into Suguru’s soft and soothing tone, not even because he’s in Suguru’s body.

“…from the beginning?”

You slowly step out of the cold shadows of the forest and feel a sly smirk flicker on your cold expression.

“Takaba doesn’t kill people,” Okkotsu says with no rise of stress in his tone, unlike in your interactions, he shows no awkwardness, no nervousness, he’s laser-focused and wearing an Icy look.

“Makes sense,” Kenjaku replies nonchalantly before he freaks you out as he snaps his gaze down to find you. “Didn’t I kill you?” He asks.

You shoot him a smug smile and shrug just as smugly. “What can I say? You should’ve gone for the head.”

He scoffs and his lips form into a deep discontent frown. “It's a shame to bow out before I finish…but my will will be passed on!” He sneers with eyes peeling back before suddenly a loud kadump shakes the ground, setting off every alarm in your mind.

Is he about to lose control?

“Rika!” Okkotsu bellows out for the cursed spirit attached to him before his eyes snap to you. “Get Kenjaku, Rika and I can handle what’s about to come!”

Neither of you have to see what’s about to unfold to know it’s not anything good, you feel it on your skin as all the hairs on your arms and on the back of your neck shoot up as your instincts sense danger before it all, every single curse Suguru had left, and every curse Kenjaku collected comes busting out of a portal.

The multiple and massive bodies block your eyesight as they surround you, causing you to lose sight of Kenjaku’s head.

“Okkotsu can you handle this?” You shout so you can be heard over the horrifying commotion everywhere around you.

“Yes! Don’t worry!”

You spare one last glimpse at Okkotsu and see that he hasn’t faltered, so you manipulate the wind with your technique and shoot up into the sky like a torpedo. And there, over the disaster in the forest beneath you, flying away is a curse carrying Kenjaku’s head.

“I killed you once, what's the point of sending you again?!” Kenjaku makes sure his voice is carried out as he gets flown toward the bridge over the water. “I can just kill you again.”

You curl your lips to a snarl and try to manipulate the wind to fly directly at him, but curses fly up in his defense and once again block sight of him.

But, it’s not like these curses are an obstacle, you’re outside, this is your territory!

“Let’s have some fun!” You cry out excitedly and shoot your arms out as you stay where you are.

The wind takes no time to gain momentum as you violently spin it around you at rapid speeds, tearing old trees off the ground, and mixing rocks in the tornado forming around you. The curses don’t have any grasp of incoming danger so they all still barrel towards you without a second of hesitation, which makes for easy work. How magnificent!

You beam at the curses with malicious joy and gently bring your arms back to send the tornado out towards the curses, feeling the high and icy winds blow past you but not harm you whatsoever. All you are is an ominous figure in the destruction with a wicked smile playing on your face

The curses finally sense danger and try to avoid being caught, but the tornado pulls them all into its spinning void and exorcizes them with ease with the sharp and deadly winds, leaving a clear sight of Kenjaku over the bridge but not an opening. There’s more curses below, and some out of the a hundred below spot you and make you their target.

So you use the tornado in your control and have it touch ground to wipe away the curses that came after you. You also end up clearing a path with the tornado and get rid of all the curses in its destructive path until it reaches the edge of the bridge.

There’s more curses, hundreds more all huddled up creating a dark cloud of curses on the bridge, but now that you aided Okkotsu by clearing the forest of curses, he can handle the ones on the bridge while you focus on Kenjaku who is still being carried away like some wimpy coward.

You won’t let him get away though, he won’t escape this time, nor will he get the jump on you again. Today you will recover Suguru’s body, today you will see through the revenge promise you made to Choso. Kenjaku won’t live past today. So as he keeps getting further away, you fly forward and once you get close you let your voice boom out so he can hear.

“Scared Kenjaku? You should be.” You smirk, and Kenjaku snickers.

“Scared? Of you? Please,” he brushes you off as his head gets creepily turned around by his hair so he could meet your gaze. “Do you want to know something, Gojo?!”

You draw in a deep breath and sigh. “I’ll bite!”

Yet before he can answer he has some of the curses on the bridge change directions and aim toward you rather than Okkotsu seeming to easily wipe them out with the help of Rika. But don’t the curses after you know how foolish they are? You’re near water, an element you reign over. Kenjaku knew that, he knows far too many things he shouldn’t, but then again he's using the curses as a distraction to make distance between him and you.

“Let’s show them something tremendously beautiful, hm?” You direct at your worm cursed spirit, and then tilt your head down to pierce your mischievous glare into the curses flying up to try and reach you before you point your palms at the water and play.

You raise the water several feet into the sky, causing Okkotsu’s attention to be stolen by the impressive wall of water rising in front of him, casting a large shadow over him and his surroundings that makes an icy chill rush over him.

The wall of water then folds down at your will and like an angry storm-powered wave blasts through all the curses that were coming after you and those too stupid not to move, while also cracking the bridge in half with the mere power of the water alone.

Now there’s a few curses left, but Okkotsu handles them, while you finally fly over the bridge and land on the ground just a few feet away from where Kenjaku’s curse is propped.

“Kogane,” Kenjaku says with his piercing eyes meeting yours. “Add a rule.”

Kogane sounds familiar, but you don’t—no you can’t figure out where you heard it from because you’re caught by surprise by Kenjaku’s rule. “Transfer the authority to begin the great merger between Tengen and Humanity to Megumi Fushiguro.”

Your eyes widen and you reach back to grab a blade imbued with cursed energy from the Worm's mouth.

“Roger that!” A creature with wings confirms after popping out of nowhere. “Rule 15: authority to begin the great merger between Tengen and Humanity has been transferred to Megumi Fushiguro.”

Oh, you get it now, this little creature is the one in charge of the rules from the Culling Games.

“One at least needs some insurance,” Kenjaku finally directs at you, making you step forward with growing horror over the fact that it won’t actually be Fushiguro in charge of the merger, but the one using his body; Sukuna.

“I’ve already had Sukuna undergo the succession ritual,” Kenjaku shares with that usual cocky arrogance he always carries—“what remains is simply his becoming the parent of the ritual via the culling games.”

You blink repeatedly in disbelief and then suddenly feel your breath catch in your throat when you see Tengen appear in the womb the curse carrying Kenjaku has.

You thought nothing of it seconds ago but that was because you didn’t realize it carried Tengen.

“Tengen!” You call out even if you know they won’t hear you, it’s a desperate call before Tengen is blasted away to the grasp of a greater evil.

“Oh please don’t act like you care about the human species,” Kenjaku picks on your baffled reaction. “Thanks to Suguru’s memories I know you more than I care to. You detest non-sorcerers, so think of this as…your dream come true.”

You clench your hand around the blade's handle and narrow your gaze to shoot your seething glare at him. “I care about humanity, you stupid arrogant fool. I am a part of humanity. Just because I don’t care about one part of humanity doesn’t mean I want life as I know it to go extinct out of some sick curiosity!”

“Hm,” he simply hums before his creepy curse crawls down, making you step back out of a fear reaction. “But don’t you see it?” He says with a glee that creeps you out. “Peace you’ve craved for so long? Where the weak don’t exist and the strong like you reign? Where your daughter, your family, and your people can live without fear of getting killed by nasty curses?”

You sneer at the sound of him speaking of your daughter and lift your blade an inch.

“All you’ve ever wanted is there just out of reach,” he coaxes you in a gentle and almost alluring way while the curse brings him closer, but not too close. “You can almost taste everything you and Geto dreamed of.”

You raise your blade a bit further but stay glued to your spot whilst your eyes follow his hovering head. “Whatever you’re trying to get at, drop it,” you sneer. “I’m going to kill you.”

He shares a dry chuckle and stops before you. “You and me are different sides of the same coin. We both crave power and a craving to prove our strength.”

You lean towards him and shake your head as you look at him disgusted that he dared to compare you to him. “No. We’re not the same. I value my life, it’s beautiful because I’ll only live it once. I love and you're not capable of it. I value my family and you use them. I have a soul and you obviously don’t,” you spat, “we’re nothing alike.”

His face doesn’t drop his arrogance or that cockiness. Not even in death.

“Hm, you may be right. You truly are quite fascinating,” he speaks low as he leans towards your ear. “It’s why I know that it can all be yours, darling. If all else fails be, The One Fallen from Grace, be Death.”

You blink in surprise and clench your jaw. Kenjaku backs away and his eyes drift over your shoulder.

“I won’t say I’ve had a thousand years worth of fun, but,” he says. “I’m glad the one I got to play with at my end was him.”

You peer back and see Okkotsu finally has joined you dragging Takaba along on the ground and another body you don’t take a chance to identify because you focus back on Kenjaku.

“Now it’s up to you guys. I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

No more prusiading, no more talking, no more running away, it all ends here. He ends here.

A breath escapes past your lips, and then with your jaw clenched and your glare gleaming with forming tears, you grab the blade with both hands, and bring the blade up to thrust it right through Kenjaku’s head and all the way until the point comes out the other end just so he doesn’t pull some trick out of nowhere and live somehow.

You won’t let him live past today. He won’t live past today…

But you still make sure he's dead by waiting for any sign of life. You can’t miss a single detail that could lead to his escape.

You wait, and wait for what feels like hours (but it’s only a few minutes) until finally the blade slips out of your hand as his head flops on the ground when Okkotsu exorcizes the curse that held up Kenjaku’s head.

He’s dead. That parasite of a person is dead…

Suguru…you can rest now…

Suguru…

You slowly drop to your knees and grab the blade to pull it out of his head. Not Kenjaku’s, but Suguru’s. The stitches are still on his forehead, but now that no life brightens his eyes, all you see is the man you loved, the man that was stolen from you, your husband and best friend, Suguru Geto.

“Ms,” Yuta whispers cautiously behind you.

You know you have to go, but just one minute…

“Hm?” You probe and look back, catching him walking toward you with the other part of Suguru’s body.

“I thought you’d want it,” Okkotsu says softly.

Your bottom lip trembles and your eyesight clouds with tears, but you still manage a thankful nod in your numbed state.

Okkotsu then places the body under the head, and before he can step away to give you space you connect the pieces together and look at the body in awe.

There’s still stitches on his forehead, but you ignore them and only see Suguru returned to you.

“I’ll do it this time,” you murmur to his cheek as you lean down. “I’ll put you to rest. Close to home, where our daughter can visit. Where I can visit. I’ll put you, Kiyoshi, and the twins together. Okay?”

There’s no response, just a deafening silence that brings more tears down your face.

“I miss you,” your voice quivers. “But I bet you and…my…you and him are together now, so you’ll be plenty distracted…” you trail off and can’t go on anymore, you can’t muster another word, and your shattered heart aches too much, but you don’t want to break down now, Choso is not here to calm you down.

So after a shaky breath, you press a kiss on his cheek and then press your forehead on his shoulder as you feel a wave of sorrow incoming ready to bring you down.

“Don’t cry,” you hear a familiar voice. A soothing one that’s not forced and sounds so real. “…FireFly.”

Suguru?

You snap your head up and look ahead at the forest where the voice comes from and see him, a mirage, but it’s still him offering you his sweet and charming smile.

“I love you,” he says and brings a wobbly smile to your lips. “I’ll always look out after you and Satori. Always.”

You drop your head and let out a trembling sob before you repeat his words, “always.”

——

*LATER*

You to Choso: I’m back. I’m okay, are you? Answer when you can. I'll be there shortly.

Your name is called out before you can watch your phone's screen for the three little bouncing dots that show that he’s responding. And when you look over you notice Shoko walking over to you.

“Ijichi mentioned you came in. Why didn’t you go get me?” She asks.

You turn around to face her and see a faint smile painted on her features as she sees no blood stained on your white hair or clothes. When she doesn’t see any visible wounds she strides over and immediately envelopes you in an embrace without caring that the worm is still attached around your shoulders.

You’re a bit stunned at the feeling of her embrace, but when you feel a comforting weight clinging onto you, you let out a shaky breath and hug her tightly.

“Mei-Mei is not surveilling that far, I was worried,” she shares between a soft breath.

You pull back and face her so she can see once again that you’re okay.

Honestly, that was an easy fight, the worst one is yet to come.

“I’m okay, the plan worked,” you assure her and rub her shoulders. “I…brought Suguru’s body back. I wanted to leave it here for now.”

Shoko stills for a moment at the sound of your words before she nods gently. “Yeah, okay, just place him on a table. I’ll keep his body cool.”

You sigh deeply and know that putting his body down isn’t what will crush you. You had a moment with him already so you’ll be fine. Quiet but fine. It’s someone else's body that you’re afraid of seeing, but want to see at the same time.

“I’m sorry for the way it was transported, it was the easiest way to carry him all the way over here,” you excuse your actions before you walk to a metal table and look at your worm to give him a knowing look he understands.

Shoko walks over and reaches for a cigarette in her coat's pocket, but you then catch her eyes snap to you as she realizes your condition and pats her pocket before digging her hands in her other pocket. The worm then opens his mouth and you help him by pulling out the body before letting it fall on the table with a loud thud since it is very heavy flesh and muscle.

“Again,” you mutter with pursed lips. “Sorry.”

You glance at all the drool soaked on Suguru’s body and pass Shoko an awkward tightlipped smile before you look down and take out the head.

“Now we’re all back,” you mention a conversation you had a month ago.

Albeit now another one of you is also gone, and that’s a fact that’s too hurtful to think about so you try and brush it off by combing Suguru’s hair with your fingers before gently placing his head down.

“I could remove the stitches and close the wound,” Shoko says to not focus too deeply on the fact that her dead friend's head is on the table, it’s a sorrow that neither you can afford to get lost in just yet.

“Could you?” You ask hopefully as you caress Suguru’s head. “I want Satori to give her dad a last goodbye, and I don’t want those horrible stitches on his head.”

Shoko nods and can’t help herself, she pulls out a cigarette and places it in between her lips. She doesn’t light it for your sake, but she keeps it there as a form of comfort.

“Oh, and could you remove the stitches now? I want to show Choso his father's brain.” You say even if it sounds wrong saying that sentence.

“That’s so weird,” she says what you’re thinking. “But yeah. Afterward, I want to check on your twins. I can’t do much, but perhaps now we can hear a heartbeat. I just want to check if they sound good before you go. Choso would strangle me if I let you leave without getting checked out first.”

You chuckle breathlessly and nod. “Alright.”

Shoko walks off to get something, and you know you won’t be able to watch her take off the stitches and pull his head apart, so you instead walk away and attempt to leave the room, but before you can you come to a sudden stop when you catch Satoru’s shoes sticking out of a thick cover.

There’s no mistake that it’s anyone else, in your grief-battered mind the memory of his shoes sticks out like a sore thumb. Which is a cruel thing for your mind to do. Can’t it see your hearts already bleeding? Can’t it sense its agony?

Why does it take you to him without letting you question it first? Does it want to torture your withered soul? Or does your mind need confirmation of what the rest of you already knows?

You don’t know, your mind is silent and only occupied with one thought? Is he okay?

You mindlessly grab the edge of the cover that’s over his head and slowly pull it back. When his face is uncovered your mind quickly tells your hand to drop it and you freeze as you get stunned by what you see.

It feels like you got stabbed in your heart again. You feel that same stillness paralyzes your body, you feel that same pain terrorize you. This time though it’s worse. This pain is a lot more agonizing.

As your eyes focus on your brother's white eyelashes kissing his skin, when you take note of the fact that his chest lies still, and when you feel that not even a staggered breath escapes his nose, you feel a blinding pain puncture you and it pollutes every corner of your body, and finally hits your stubborn mind.

You try to think of any excuse, any workaround to deny what you see, but the realization is like shockwaves, bothersome, and unable to let you forget. Yet there’s an even sadder truth that lies beneath all that pain, and it’s a realization that you know who you’ll be now that he’s gone. You once feared not knowing who you’d be without him because he’s all you had, but now…now you lie underneath the rubble, just waiting to be pulled out, and those you cherish are present in your mind.

And you know he’d remind you of that. He wouldn’t let you forget nor would he want you to feel alone and lost, he’d remind you of who you were surrounded by, that you didn’t really need him in the grand scheme of things. He’d remind you of who you are and who you’ve always been, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that you’ll miss your older brother, that there will never be a day that goes by where you don’t mourn the first man who loved you and who always kept you in his heart.

There will never be a day where you won’t wish that he’ll be by your side because why did he have to leave? Why did he have to die and leave you here?

Why? Why?!

You clutch onto his shoulders and sob into his chest.

“Please,” you begin to plead. “Please come back. You said you’d always protect me. You promised me. Why are you gone, Satoru?”

Your legs lose all their strength and threaten to knock you to the ground, but before you can hit the ground, arms wrap under your arms and pull you up. You don’t get to look back before Shoko whispers your name and follows with soft words.

“Come on, honey, let’s get outside, okay? All this distress is not good for you and your babies.”

You shake your head and want to stay by your brother's side, but her words do register so you let her guide you out of the room, but fall with her out in the hall.

“Shoko,” you mewl.

Said woman caresses the side of your head and with tears of her own she tells you she understands your pain. “I know. I know.”

Her hand then slips from your head, and her arm slips around your waist so she can pull you to her side and press your head on her shoulder. Neither of you have the willpower to say anything after, you sit in silence with your backs to the door, and find comfort in each other's warmth.

You would want to sit here for hours just to try and process everything, but you can’t afford that luxury, people need you, so you lift your head off her shoulder before you stay attached to her, and push yourself up.

“I got your father-in-law's brain,” Shoko tries to lighten up your mood.

And it didn’t work to make you smile, but your nose wrinkles in disgust. “Ew please don’t refer to him as that,” you remark.

Shoko turns and as you lose sight of her in the room you hear her voice in the distance. “It’s true.”

“Ew,” you grumble and look down at your worm to mirror the disgust on your faces.

However, speaking about your father-in-law, you remember his eldest son and check your phone to see if he answered, but it’s still left on delivered. Choso hasn't read your message.

Is he okay?

You should check the broadcast—but if he’s not okay you’ll fall into more distress so you’ll text him first.

You to Choso: Cho? Call me if you can, please. Just let me know you’re okay.

You wait now and watch for the three dots again. But alas, once again Shoko comes to meet up with you.

“Here take your brain.” She interjects with a hint of disgust as she holds a jar with Kenjaku’s blood-covered brain.

When you take the jar you can only spare it one glance because your stomach constantly feels queasy, and you don’t want to taste that bitter taste of puke so you just let your Worm hold it.

Maybe it’s a sign from your babies that they don’t want to keep seeing their grandfather. Who would?

“Now can we please move on?” Shoko insists.

Your eyebrows raise and you nod eagerly. “Yes, please! I want to check on Choso. He hasn’t texted me back and he’s not one to take long to respond…” you trail off and look at her quizzical look to question her. “Do you know how he is? I mean have you seen him on the screens?”

Shoko tilts her head down to hold her dry cigarette stick and nods softly. “Yeah, he was helping against Sukuna. But that was a while ago, I got busy after that sorry.”

Well, that doesn’t work to reassure your worry whatsoever.

You’ll need to get through the checkup quicker than you’d like, Choso might need your help, or the others might need assistance.

Albeit there’s a part of you that doesn’t want Shoko to check on the babies. Not because you dread it, but because they’re still so small, and if she doesn’t hear anything you’ll think the worst right now considering all the distress you’ve been under.

However, there would’ve been signs if something bad happened, there hasn’t been any to your knowledge.

“Do you want to know what names Choso and I already chose,” you tell Shoko so you don’t keep focusing on the negative.

Shoko opens the door to a separate room and as you pass her to walk in she of course doesn’t turn you down. “Please do.”

You smile brightly and rub your belly. “Well I want a boy and a girl, so we chose based on that.” You share with your glee slowly heightening as you get excited. “For the girl, Choso chose Suki, which means beloved. And for the boy I chose Tsukuyomi, after the god of the moon. I wanted Orlando, but Choso vetoed it, can you believe that?” You pout.

Shoko scoffs and mumbles something under her breath as she taps on the chair for you to sit on. You pierce your glare into her and don’t leave yourself wondering what she had to say, you press her. “What? What did you just say?”

Shoko grabs a white device from her bag and when she turns around she doesn’t shy away from repeating herself. “It’s a stupid name.”

You gasp and touch your chest to pretend to be wounded by her insult to your beloved's name. “You’re a stupid name. I’m being so serious.”

Shoko sits on her chair and rolls herself to you. “Oh, I know you are. I’m glad Choso had some common sense, remind me to praise him for that.”

You pout. “Are you guys just jealous because he was my first love?” You tease her with the same thing you told Choso. “It’s okay if it’s any reassurance, I would hesitate leaving my life behind to marry Orlando Bloom. Before, nothing was going to stop me, now I’ve changed, okay?”

Shoko rolls her eyes and brings up her device that you don’t recognize. “What is that?” You probe and guard your belly.

Shoko turns on the device and pulls it up to show it off. “It's a fetal doppler to hear the baby’s heartbeat. I bought it recently to check on you.”

You drop your hand and can’t help your heart from skipping a beat at the thought of Shoko being so considerate and worried for your twin's well-being.

“Okay, now I won’t have you undress due to our circumstances, but I will ask you to lift your obi belt for me please.”

Your previous lightheartedness drops to zero, and all you’re filled with is worry that makes you swallow back nervously as you drag up the obi belt to give Shoko easy access.

“And I must warn you,” Shoko cuts in as she’s in the middle of leaning in. “If we don’t hear anything It’s because they’re too young to be detected by this device. Don’t worry, okay? You’re not showing any signs of concern, so I’m sure you’re okay.”

As far as doctors go she’s the first one to ever make you feel reassured by her attempts at comfort. The others you’ve seen speak with a feigned softness that oozes their artificiality

Maybe it's because she’s your best friend and the others have been strangers you have to see, but nothing in the way she sits, looks at you, or speaks gives any sense of doubt.

Then again she’s always sounded kind to you. Even when you first met her voice had a way to make you feel quite safe and reassured.

“Okay, I’m going to press this on you, okay? And you might feel a bit of pressure since I have to press deep to hear through your clothes, okay?” She speaks a lot softer and kinder, it almost sounds like she’s hypnotizing you.

“Okay,” you talk under your breath, and she only hears you because she's so close to you that her knees are touching yours.

And as she gets her wand close to your belly you hold your breath, and when presses her wand on you and presses hard to feel through the clothes and layers of skin and flesh, you stiffen and close your eyes out of your racing nerves attacking you.

“Come on now little Suki and Tsukuyomi, let me just hear you so your mama and your dad can have something positive to hold onto for today.”

You smile at her speaking to the twins, but it looks all wobbly and more like you’re about to cry.

Shoko notices your reaction and places the machine down to grab your hand and offer you a smile before she lowers the wand closer to your waistline and presses just a bit harder, making the sound of silence get interrupted by the sweet rhythmic music of two little ba-dums running quickly.

“Oh,” Shoko muses and drops your hand to grab the machine and watch the screen. While you drop that tension held on your shoulders, breathe out shakily, and feel the clutches of your sorrow let go of your bleeding heart to let you mend your broken heart with the bliss of the twins signs of life. The first signs that they’re viable.

“That’s them?” You muse breathlessly and watch Shoko move her wand to focus on the second baby.

“Yes!” Shoko exclaims happily and turns the machine around to show you numbers on the screen you don’t quite understand. “From what I read their heart rates are good. Strong. You have some strong babies.” She beams at you and turns her head to just take a moment to listen, letting you pull your phone out to record the session for Choso. You don’t want him to miss the first time you hear their heartbeats; he’d be crushed.

And yes it’s not the same as being here in the same room, but due to your circumstances, you weren’t granted the pleasure of being together for this special moment. He should understand that, and hopefully, he'll have a greater opportunity of being with you when you see the twins for the first time. If something comes up then, then you’ll wait for him to be with you.

“So tell me one more time,” you interject just to double check for you, and so Choso can hear when he listens to the video. “Their heartbeats sound strong? Healthy?”

Shoko meets your gaze and nods. “Yes,” she reassures you. “They’re strong for how small they are. Don’t worry.”

You sigh with relief and smile down at your belly as you relish in the sound of the music of their hearts, forgetting for a moment what chaos awaits you outside and what agonizing sorrow is waiting to dig itself back in you; you can feel it’s sharp claws trying to claw itself back in to keep hurting you in the worst way imaginable.

You almost just want to fight it off and drown yourself in the sound of your twin's heartbeats since it brings you so much bliss, but once again you have to remind yourself that people need you. They need your strength to fight off the demon monster that goes by the name Sukuna.

Thus, after a few long minutes, you stop recording and meet Shoko’s gaze to speechlessly let her know that it’s okay to stop listening in.

However, she’s the one who hesitates, seeming to want to get lost in the sound of something miraculous instead of having to endure more pain, but she pulls herself away and turns off the device, bringing an end to your bliss and welcoming back your sorrow and grief.

“Before you leave,” Shoko fills the silence and utters your name almost hesitantly before she drags her chair back to able to hold your gaze—“can I share something with you about Suguru? Is that okay? Or is it weird?”

No matter how deeply in love you are with someone else, talking about Suguru will never be a weird topic or something you avoid. You’ll limit yourself out of respect for Choso, but you’ll never hide away from talking about your first love,

“No, it's not weird,” you assure your friend. “Go ahead.”

You let your obi belt fall back in place and slouch to wait.

“It’s about something he told me 11 years ago. The day I ran into him for the first time after what he did,” Shoko explains and then exhales deeply, causing her eyes to soften with a hint of sympathy as if the wounds of his passing are still new and fresh.

“It’s not specific, but he said to tell you that he knew the answer to your question. It was “yes, I would want nothing else.”

You blink in confusion and press your mind hard so it can remember what he was referring to because it does sound familiar.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you but with everything going on I never had time, and when you brought him in I remembered. Sorry,” she backs up her comment with guilt.

“No,” you counter back right away so she knows you don’t actually blame her for anything. “I understand, but he didn't say anything else?”

Her eyes suddenly widen and she rummages through her pocket before pulling out a folded paper that looks quite old.

“This,” she blurts and hands it to you. “He gave me this to give to you. I brought it with me today since I knew you’d bring him back.”

You look at her curiously before you drop your eyes to the paper and quickly unfold it. When you spread the paper out your breath hitches when you see that it’s your favorite poem, “The Passionate Shepherd to His Love.”.

He wanted you to have it. He remembered. Which isn’t surprising, but…after all these years your heart can’t help but swoon, and help you remember what he was referring to.

“We hadn’t been dating long,” you tell Shoko so she wasn't left wondering. “As you know. But I knew it in my heart that I wanted forever with him, especially when we got back together, so,” you pause and smile softly at the poem in your hands. “I asked him if he wanted forever with me. If he could wait for me to come back from training with Yuki, and he never got to answer because we got interrupted…” you trail off and instead of crying you manage to keep your eyes dry and just smile with glee as you feel wrapped up by his love once again.

Even if he’s gone, you feel his loving embrace, and you smile at that.

“Thank you Shoko,” you whisper and finally get off the chair.

Your friend mirrors you and watches you carefully as you tuck away your poem as if expecting you to burst out in tears.

“I need to go find Choso now,” you cut your conversation there before you can keep lingering here with her.

“Are you okay?” She makes sure to ask while you walk away.

You peer back at her and nod. “Yes,” you tell her with no sign of deceit. “I’m okay about the Suguru thing. I mourned him earlier, and I cried, I’m okay. Thank you. Now,” you change the subject. “I’ll text you if anything happens okay? And if you need any help text me or ask Kirara, understand?”

“Well considering I’m not a child, yes,” she quips, making you smirk and stop for a brief moment to solidify a previous promise.

“I’ll be back, okay?”

Shoko draws in a deep breath and you watch her eyes gleam with tears clouding her eyes. “You better,” she mutters.

You offer her one last smile and head out.

And before you know it, after rushing to find Choso first and foremost, you spot him from afar; his buns that don’t actually work to keep his hair down, his purple vest that matches his scarf, and his white robe that's stained with…blood. A lot of blood.

Choso is on the ground hunched over, but you notice the blood from where you stopped and suddenly everything goes dark and time comes to a sudden halt. Nothing else exists but him, there. Nothing else matters to you but him bleeding out from wounds you can’t see from here or by the way he’s sitting, you can’t even tell if he’s breathing. He’s too far and he’s not moving.

He’s not moving…

No…please…no…

“Choso?!” You can’t wait, you have to cry out for him. “Choso?!”

Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest @natakina

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kh4nhsofficial · 4 hours

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𝕲𝖊𝖙𝖔 𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚

✧ ʙɪᴋᴇʀ ʙꜰ ꜱᴜɢᴜʀᴜ

!ʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏɴ ᴘɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛ¡

#my art #not my oc #procreate #art #jjk #jjk geto #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #biker boy #biker suguru #jujutsu geto #geto x reader #geto suguru x you

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haruchi-slit · 5 hours

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here's a sneak peak on suguru's part i only have to do satoru's part yip yip!

(the doodle in the right side is what i actually look like irl, except for the eyes..)

#haruchi-slit #jjk #jjk smut #haruchi slit #jjk headcanons #smut #jjk polls #jjk smau #suguru smut #suguru smau #geto suguru #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you

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mommypieck · 2 months

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⌗︙・suguru's big cock ⸜⸜・

i feel like high school geto would be the lanky dude who's packing a lot in his pants. he's unable to wear tight pants because everyone can see what he's hiding underneath. that's why he has to wear baggy sweatpants.

you don't expect much when he invites you over to his house. you know exactly what he plans to do with you. he puts a movie on, throwing his hand around your shoulders. you look at him when a hand starts trailing up your skirt.

"have i told you how pretty you are yet?" he asks you, playing with your hair. you want to laugh at him, does he think it's gonna be so easy for him to get you in a bed with him?

he takes your hand in his, pressing it against his hard on.

"just a small touch." he purrs in your ear. geto starts moving your hand up and down his length over his pants. he feel... big? he slides down his pants, revealing his raging boner. he's the biggest you have never seen. you gulp, there's no way you would be able to take him inside.

"it's big, isn't it?" he smirks. you bite your lip at him, but you wrap your hand around him. your fingers don't even touch because of how girthy he is, but you don't let it show that you think he's big.

"i had bigger." you say, smiling under your nose. you want to tease him, make him feel like he's not special with the thing in his pants.

"oh yeah," he smirks and you try not to focus on how beautiful he is. everything is so perfect in this moment, his beautiful face next to you and his precum running down his shaft over your hand. "i asked satoru about you and he said you weren't able to take him even tho he's a bit smaller."

your eyes go wide, why would satoru talk about this with him? but at the end of the day, they are best friends. confidence grows inside of you, you won't let yourself be overpowered by fuck boys.

you climb over to sit on suguru's lap, pulling your panties on the side to tease his cock against your opening.

"satoru doesn't know shit, let me ride you to show you how i can take you."

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x reader

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gojonanami · 3 months

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❝ 𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ! ❞

❝ I HEARD FROM A FRIEND OF A FRIEND, THAT DICK WAS A TEN OUT OF TEN !! ❞

✧ pairing: jjk au sorcerer! suguru geto x sorcerer! reader

✧ summary: geto's routine after a mission -- ingest the curses that he collects before his shower. but after he does, his body begins to burn and ache with lust to the point of pain -- and he can't get rid of the feeling alone. so what else can he do when you show up at his doorstep offering to help but accept it (aka a sex pollen / aphrodisiac curse fic).

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, jjk compliant au, geto stayed a sorcerer and didn't defect, reader is one year younger than geto, (set during jjk s1), aphrodisiac curse (sex pollen), multiple orgasms, multiple positions (missionary, doggy, riding, other positions mentioned: standing, against the wall, spooning from behind, against the wall), masturbation (m), soft dom! geto, oral (m +f), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, cervix fucking, panty stealing, squirting, mutual pining, a little angst (discussion of star vessel / premature death arc), but a lot of comfort, cuddling, gojo hijinks

✧ wc: 8,180

Suguru was only sure of one thing, as he stared at himself in the mirror — cheeks flushed red, sweat nearly soaking through his black t-shirt, and a painful and glaring problem in his boxers—

This was a curse — literally.

Curses were made up of different negative human emotions — from loneliness to grief to anger, these negative feelings would pool and create a curse. Sorcerers were made to exorcise these curses, and Suguru did so — but in a different way than the others. He had to consume them as part of his technique. And even with the hundreds of curses he’s swallowed over the years, he would never get used to the taste — a shit soaked rag used to clean up vomit was how he could best describe it, but even then, that didn’t come close to the indescribable act of swallowing the manifestation of the worst negative human emotions — at least for most of them.

The one he had swallowed today was different — he was sent to exorcise a grade 1 curse in the heart of Tokyo that dwelled in an abandoned building — from the inside, he could tell that it was used as a strip club and possibly a bathhouse-turned-brothel, from the seedy mattresses left behind with dirty sheets and mussed covers, with rusting incense burners placed around the room, and the gaudy, fake jewelry that laid strewn about the place — assumedly any real jewelry picked clean. He swore he could have even smelt the ever lingering scent of cheap perfume in the walls and vents.

But the greater concern was the curse he had found himself with — a grotesque creature that stared back at him — its body a deep maroon, many eyes dotting its back with a large pair of black lips that Suguru didn’t care to draw any closer to. It was more humanoid than most — its form showing a more sophistication than many curses did, muscles of its many arms contracted as it finally spotted Suguru, its many eyes settled their gaze on him.

It was far too easy for him to take down the curse in hindsight — far too easy — and it seemed to watch him summon curses — and he swore it almost had seen a glimmer of recognition in its eyes and then it allowed him to deal the final blow.

He had kept the curse on hand — he could swallow it later, when he was near a toilet and perhaps some mouthwash — though that barely did much to remove the taste from his mouth. He had returned to Jujutsu Tech to do his reports, and hopefully head back early — Satoru was out on another overseas mission and Shoko was busy tending to patients and bodies as always, but you—

He wasn’t sure what you were doing, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to text you. Not after what Satoru said.

“When are you guys gonna fuck already?” the strongest sorcerer asked, making Suguru choke on his Sprite — strong in ability, but not in tact, “you and her have been eye fucking for weeks and you had such a thing for her before she decided to move to Kyoto—”

“That was years ago—”

“She has a key to your apartment—“

“So do you!” he glares.

“Then what about last night at the bar?” Satoru leans back in his chair, lifting the front legs off the ground, as he pulled his sunglasses down, “you could have murdered the guy that was hitting on her with your look alone — and I think you did when you stuck yourself to her side with your arm around her waist, until he ran with his tail between his legs,”

If looks could kill, Suguru would have surely murdered his best friend — infinity be damned, “She looked uncomfortable, what was I going to do—”

“Well, she certainly didn’t look uncomfortable with you hanging all over her, now did she?” He raises an eyebrow, as he leans forward again, the front legs of his chair landing with a thunk, “what are you gonna do if a guy comes along that she falls for? You’re telling me you’re not gonna regret it, Suguru?” Suguru says nothing, unable to meet Satoru’s gaze, as Satoru crushes his own can into a ball, before tossing at Suguru, “You guys just got to hurry up and fuck,”

Suguru swats the crushed can away, “You’re disgusting,”

He grins, as his words seemingly only confirm what he assumes, “Disgusting, but correct, and if I’m right, you’re taking some of my missions off my hands,” he grins.

And Satoru’s words had been running around in Suguru’s head — just like any annoying song on the radio — but he couldn’t let Satoru’s words stop from hanging out with you. He had just gotten you back in his life again — he couldn’t lose you, not again.

Geto: Are you free to watch a movie and have takeout?

You: sounds good - did you get back from your mission alright? No injuries I need to yell at you about?

He snorts, as he types his reply: no, not this time.

You: Let’s keep it that way! :)

He bites back his smile as the two of you decide to have you head over in an hour to his place — you preferred it that way since you were still settling into your place, boxes still unwittingly everywhere there should be actual furniture. Last time he came by to pick a report up, he found you eating your meal on a packed box, instead of a table.

And he catches himself smiling, before his face sours at the thought of Satoru again.

Satoru was right — and he hated to admit it, his knuckles pressed to his lips. A year under him, you had spent days with him, along with everyone else — you always waited for him with his favorite snacks when he would return from a mission. You sat with him sometimes when he would get sick from swallowing curses, helping him swallow some water and saltines after he turned his stomach inside out. You were the one that pushed him when he hid his disillusionment from everyone else — even from Satoru. You wouldn’t leave him alone, you wouldn’t stop dogging his every step with snacks and comfort and company, hounding him to sleep, to eat, to say something, anything.

Until he did — one late night you spent up together — he didn’t sleep much those days anyway. And he told you everything — the poison seeping from his body, and leeching onto yours, your frown and hurt was the whole reason he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone to begin with. But the frown wasn’t yourself — it was for him, as your arms only curled around him, and he let you hold him the entire night.

“You don’t always have to pretend to be strong, Suguru. You’re allowed to be upset, you’re allowed to be angry, you’re allowed to grieve — but don’t bottle it up,” your fingers raked through his wet hair, undoing the tangles gently before running the comb through it, “don’t let it kill you from the inside out,”

“I feel like I did die — along with Amanai,” and you pause, your arms curled around his shoulders, chin resting on his head before you pinched his cheek and he flinched.

“There, you’re definitely not dead,” you say, “so don’t act like you are. And don’t act like you’re alone — because you’re not. You have me, you have Satoru and Shoko — even Nanami and—“ you voice cuts off at the thought of Haibara — “Haibara wouldn’t want you to hide from us, he looked up to you — more than anyone else, even Satoru,”

“I don’t know why,” he mutters with a sigh.

“I do,” your fingers guide his face to meet your gaze, your face an inch or two from his, “because you’re kind, you’re intelligent, and you’re strong,”

He scoffs, “Satoru is the strongest,”

“And you think Satoru thinks any differently of you? That any of us feel differently? You’re the only person who can understand him — and he’s the only one who understands you,”

He gives a small chuckle, “not the only one,” and he tears his eyes away, hoping you don’t see the way his cheeks burned.

And when he found those two sorcerer girls locked up — you were the one who called. The rage and anger had built into murderous intent, but he could hear your words ringing in his ears and before he knew it, he had called you to come to him.

You saved them together — Nanako and Mimiko had fallen asleep in your respective laps after all was said and done on the ride back — without much bloodshed (not that the blood that was shed was worth much, in his opinion) — and with Gojo and you smoothing things over with the higher ups (mostly with veiled threats and petty remarks), you managed to allow the twins to grow up safe, under Geto’s care, and your own.

At least for a time. After you graduated, Nanami left — and you were the only one of your class left — and the absence of your best friends weighed on you, even if you didn’t show it.

“I’m leaving for Kyoto,” you told him one afternoon the two of you spent lazing around his dorm, you sat against the bottom of his bed, as he lounged on the mattress, his gaze snapping to you, only able to see the back of your head, “this place holds too many memories — i need perspective, I need space from all of this,”

He wants to ask if you have to, ask you if he could convince you to stay, if he could do something, anything to make you stay — ask if he wasn’t enough to make you stay. But he doesn’t, because it’s the best decision for you. So he instead slips off the bed, sitting beside you, his hand ruffling your hair, “You’ll come to visit right?”

He knows you’re blinking back tears, but he pretends not to notice, your lip quivering, and god, he knows he wants nothing more than to tilt your gaze toward him by your chin and brush his lips against yours, until every sad thought has evaporated under his touch.

But he knows that would only be one more thought that would make things far more difficult — for the both of you. It was better this way. And it was. Years had passed, the two of you had become teachers at the Tokyo and Kyoto schools respectively — but as the years had passed, your relationship grew more distant, as it always seemed to with time and distance.

But then you decided to come back to Tokyo, transferred over — Yaga explaining it was due to all the happenings in Tokyo with the special grades and emergence of Yuji as Sukuna’s vessel — and he found himself in your presence again. And it was as if no time had passed — your days off spent in his apartment — as yours had become a haven of unpacked boxes. And he couldn’t help but wonder — when he’d glance at you in the dark of his living room, the only illumination was the TV that played some shitty horror movie (your words not his) you had put on — if the special grades were the only reason you’d come back. Your fingers were so close to each other’s on the couch, but an inch felt like a ravine.

One he couldn’t dare to cross.

But It was fine, just as he told Satoru — you were just friends, until both of you decided otherwise. Not that it would ever happen — no, he thought that ship had sailed, even if his heart had stubbornly said that it hadn’t.

Until he decided to consume the curse — and his heart was no longer the problem.

Or at least, not his main problem.

He sat in his bathroom, towel in the shower rack, ready to shower after he dealt with this. He had discarded his uniform jacket and pants — only in a black t-shirt and boxers. He stood by the toilet — as he learned his lesson the first few months swallowing curses — he never knows when one will turn his stomach inside out.

He holds the balled curse in his palm — he could feel it squirm just underneath of his cursed energy — the thing keeping it contained at all, itching to be freed from his grasp — though it never would. He pressed the ball to his lips, bracing himself as he opened his mouth, nearly having to unhinge his jaw for how large this curse was and pressing it past his lips and into his mouth. His palms pressed against his mouth, as he swallowed, eyes squeezed shut.

It…wasn’t as bad as he thought. He frowned, brow knit as he stared at his empty palm — it was still appalling to consume, but it was….sweet? But it burned as it went down, heat remaining in the pit of his stomach, even as it should have faded.

That should have been his first clue.

Either way, he turned on the shower before he shed the rest of his clothes, and stepped in. The water felt warmer than usual, as he washed his body first, letting his hair grow wet under the shower head. His fingers reached for the shower handle, turning it even colder, but his body barely reacted to the water — was it even cold?

Even under the water, he felt like his body was burning — a slow fire that lingered under the surface of his skin, burning and aching, the frigid water barely doing enough to soothe it. Running his hands over his body seemingly helped, a shiver running down his spine as he washed himself, but he knew it would have felt even better if it was you.

….what? He tried to shake that thought from his head — it wasn’t the first time he had thought of you like this. There were many times where his mind would drift to you at night, the warmth of your touch from a few hours ago still lingered, as his hard-on pleaded for his touch. Guilty gnawed at his conscious when he indulged, the first time being after a particularly vivid dream of you pinning him down while training — your mouth kissing down his body, eager fingers tugging at his shorts until that smirk met—

This wasn’t helping.

The burning had traveled southward, as his blood did, and he glanced down at his raging hard-on.

Fuck.

No, he couldn’t.

But his fingers were possessed, already reaching for his aching cock, large beads of pre-cum leaving his slit just as hand closed around it. He hisses when he does, a gasp ripped from his throat, as he braces himself against the shower wall with his other hand.

He palms his erection, swallowing thickly, as he grunts, as he begins to pump his cock from base to tip, smearing his pre along his length. But his mind wanders to you, how pretty you’d look pressed against the wall of his shower, his hard cock dragging between your ass. Lovely moans parting your lips as his fingers would reach around to rub at your puffy clit.

“Suguru, please—“

“Tell me what you want baby, gotta use your words,” he’d murmur, teasing your slick entrance with the tip of his cock.

“Need your cock — need you to fuck me,” you would whine, words nearly enough to make him bust there and then. And he would sink into you just as he does his fist, but your sweet cunt would feel so much better than his hand does.

Fucking wet and tight and just for him, as he works his dick deeper and deeper, until his tip is nudging your cervix. And he’d fuck you hard, just like he’s fucking his fist now, skin slapping each time his hips met your ass.

You’d cum before he would, he would make sure of it — one hand rubbing harshly at your clit, the other toying with one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. And your walls would squeeze and wring him dry, just as he squeezed his own dick now.

He spilled all over the wall of his shower, white spurts kept coming, as he grunted, imagining he was painting your walls instead. He panted, but as the afterglow ebbed away, the heat only came back tenfold.

He panted, as his fingers left his cock, only to find it still hard — the tip red and angry, twitching as he stared back at it.

What the fuck is going on?

He finally left the shower, pulling on his shirt and boxers delicately — every inch of his body felt feverish and sensitive, even the rubbing of his clothes against his skin was almost too much for him.

He stood in front of the sink, knuckles white against the porcelain as he tried to will his erection away, but each thought was only chased away with thoughts of you — of the dress you loved to wear riding up, of your legs spreading for him, of the wet patch on your panties—

He was so fucked. Sweat dripped into the sink, as he glanced at himself in the mirror — skin a ruddy red flush, lips impossibly dry, pupils blown out with need — he was so fucked.

He called Shoko — the embarrassment of this situation far gone at this point fading into plain need of wanting this situation to be over. One ring, two rings — finally five rings and she picks up.

“It’s not like you to call—“

“I need your help,” he cuts her off, biting back the groan from his cock rubbing against his boxers the wrong way — “I don’t know what’s happening to me,”

Her voice shifts from curiosity to concern, “Slow down, Suguru, tell me what’s going on,” and he tells her his symptoms — and she’s silent on the other line for a moment, “you have been a teenage boy before right? You’re not really calling me because you’re horny and you don’t know what to do—“

“It’s not that—“ he hisses, running a slow hand down his face, “I already tried…solving the problem myself but it didn’t work. And I feel weird — it only made it worse. I can’t stop sweating or thinking about—“ he cuts off — he couldn’t stop lewd thoughts of you from springing before his eyes, the thoughts of your moans, how soft your flesh would be under his fingers, how you’d look when he— “what is this, Shoko?”

She pauses on the line for a moment, “When did it start?”

“Right before my shower I think,” his mind foggy with need, he could barely even comprehend a coherent thought.

“And what did you do before your shower? Anything different?” he’s swallowing the lump in his throat, as he resists the urge to brush his hand over his hard-on.

He’s barely hearing Shoko at this point — “I took off my clothes, I got my towel, and then I—“ and the realization struck him — the curse, “I consumed the curse I collected today from my mission,” he mutters, “fuck—“

And then there’s a knock at the door, “Suguru?” He heard you call through the door. His dick throbs at the sound of your voice.

Shoko’s voice cuts through the white noise, “Suguru, the curse you ate — was there something different about it?”

“It was a grade one — it seemed a little too easy to defeat — it formed in—“ he swallows thickly, “in a brothel,”

“I’ve heard of curses being lustful, but not of them becoming a stimulant,” she murmurs, and he can hear her sigh, “you could try extracting the curse from your body — I doubt that would be effective at this point. I assume the effects will linger until the symptoms pass — just as it does when you become nauseous or sick from swallowing other curses,”

His phone buzzed with texts from you:

You: I’m outside, I grabbed takeout for us this time since you always treat me!

You: are you home?

His mind swam, it wasn’t the takeout he was craving — it was you. But no, no — he couldn’t. Not like this, but he was fighting a losing battle and he just about lost the war along with it.

“I don’t know, how do I get it to pass?” he was desperate, the sounds of your knocks and messages ringing in his ear, along with your sweet voice — why do you sound so good with his name on your lips? So sweet — his boxers grow even tighter — bet you even taste even sweeter.

“If dealing with it yourself didn’t work, then,” she sighs, “you’re going to need a partner,”

Another knock.

“Shoko, I have to go,” and he hangs up before she can get another word — a thought to thank her and apologize shoved to the back of his mind, as he stumbles to his door, a thunk as he nearly tumbled into it, wood and hinges groaning under the force and weight.

“Suguru?” you’re so worried yet his name on your tongue was nearly enough to have him cumming in his boxers then, the wet patch of his boxers nearly making the fabric translucent, “are you okay?”

He says your name, “You should go home, I’m not feeling well—“

“What’s wrong? Do you need help?” And he’s biting his lip, teeth digging into his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood, “let me in,”

“I can’t—I can’t let you help with this,” he’s shaking his head, “please, sweetheart, you have to go—“ And he hears the clink of your key going into the door — fuck, that goddamn key he gave you, and the door pulls open, just as he braces himself against the doorframe.

Your brow furrowed in concern, takeout bag in hand, as your eyes examined him, until they found their way to his boxers.

“Suguru—“

“You should leave — I can’t explain, there’s a curse inside me—“

Your eyebrows knit together, “Suguru, a curse did this to you? What happened?” And he’s shaking his head, mind far too gone, as he forces himself away, “let me help—“

“You can’t help. I have to get out of my system but the only way is—“ he cuts off, as he groans again, body and mind railing against each other, as his body just seemingly burns from even being near you.

“There must be something—“ and you step closer, and he can barely hold back from grabbing you, fingers twitching to wrap around your waist, the other holding your neck, lips finding yours, as he fucking rips his own clothes off— “I want to help—“

He’s tugging at the collar of his shirt incessantly, as you step closer, closing the gap between your bodies, and he can only focus on the way your pretty lips part, the way your chest curves under your shirt, and the far too short shorts you choose to wear — fuck.

He was so fucked.

He can’t hold back, as he’s drawing close to you in a moment, his mind clouded with lust, the hitch of your breath only making him want you more — but he forced every muscle in his body to stop. He couldn’t. Not until you agreed.

“If you don’t want me to fuck you right now,” he says lowly, his lips nearly brushing your ear, “I want you — regardless of this, I’ve wanted you for so long,” the confession tumbles from his lips because he needs you to know, needs you know so you can either leave him to his fate or help him get through this, “but if you don’t feel the same—“

But to his surprise, you lean closer, breath warming his skin until it was left scalding, “who said I didn’t?”

And he can’t hold back.

His lips crash to yours, his hands holding your cheeks, as he grasps desperately to you, takeout boxes spilling from the plastic bag and your purse spilling your things when you drop it, your fingers grasping at his damp t-shirt.

And your touch alone even through the fabric is nearly enough to make him bust a nut there and then — and his mind hadn’t even felt so clear until he felt your touch. He could notice every little detail about you — the way your breath caught when his fingers ghosted down your sides, the way your lips parted for his tongue without hesitation, and the way your knees shook when he squeezed your hips.

“So pliant for me,” he murmurs, eager to touch more, to taste more, “such a good fucking girl, aren’t you?”

And you’re nodding wordlessly — lips kiss ruined and red, saliva clinging to your lips when he parted from your lips — and he wonders which one of you swallowed a glorified sex curse.

“Know how long I wanted to do this?” words said pressed with heated kisses down your neck — he was right, you tasted so sweet, he bet another part of you tasted even sweeter — “how many times I thought about this?” He nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, rewarded with a pretty gasp, “wanted to mark you up so many times — when that fucker tried to hit on you — I wanted to do more than just wrap my arm around you. Wanted to show him how he could never please you,” and he’s sucking a mark there, teeth grazing and pinching your skin before he soothes it with his tongue. He smiles against your skin, as he admires his handiwork.

You whine when he drags a thumb down your puffy lips, “Sugu, please, more,” and his lips find yours again, swallowing your complaints and moans eagerly, as his large palms slide down your back to rest on your ass, squeezing as he presses you flush to his body, hard on pressed against your body.

“Need my touch that much, Princess? Should’ve just fucked you in that club, huh? Let them see that you’re mine,” And he’s walking you backwards towards his room, as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the floor of his living room. Your fingers running over his exposed flesh, thumbs teasing his sensitive nipples, pretty little lips pressing teasing kisses to both sides.

Fuck, the need to bury his cock in you grew by the second. But he wanted to feel good first — been waiting too long. He had all night to fuck you — but he only had one time to do it right the first time.

He’s walking you into the edge of his bed, as you both tumble onto the bed, his hands sliding under your shirt, tugging at the hem, and you help him take it off — and he hissed at the sight of nothing underneath.

“Were you always coming to my place with no bra on?” his lips curl, as your eyes look away, embarrassment painted on your expression, “wanted this as long as I did, Princess? Don’t get so shy now — you’re the one who insisted on helping me, so aren’t you going to fulfill your promise?” His lips brush against your earlobe, lips wrapping around it and sucking lightly.

You shiver, biting your lip, before you’re tugging him fully onto the bed, before slinking off of it and onto your knees for him, “Then let me help you,”

When your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, he’s ready to cum right there — he’s so sensitive still, he’s sure he won’t last long, but fuck, he doesn’t care with how pretty you look between his legs.

“Don’t be a tease, Princess, or I’ll pay you back later,” but your lips only curl, as you lean forward and press a kiss through the drenched fabric, tip of your tongue teasing his slit through his boxers.

“Oh I expect you to,” and you’re pulling his boxers down painfully slowly, letting the fabric of his boxers rub against his hard-on teasingly, a low hiss leaving the thin line of his lips, his balls aching with his release as his cock slaps against his stomach, “fuck, Sugu,” you murmur in almost reverence — he was thick, the tip flushed red with lovely beads of pre-cum already dripping down his length, your fingers already eager to trace those pretty veins, and feel the slight curve of his cock in your aching cunt, “how am I gonna fit you all in me?”

And his cock twitches at your words, as you pity him with a chaste kiss to the top, “Please,” he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, fingers knuckles white as they fisted the now creased sheets, “fuck—“ as you blow air along his length, “I’ll cum all over your face at this rate,”

“Oh I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sugu?” your point finger lightly follows the trail of his vein, as your lips continue to press butterfly kisses along his length, “paint my face with your cum,”

And his fingers thread themselves in your hair, pressing his length to your lips, and you smirk, looking up at him with half lidded gaze, as your lips part and his length slides in — that’s all it takes.

The coil in his stomach snaps, as he cums down your throat, hot seed spilling into your mouth, as his hips jerk against your mouth, his groans of your name sending a hot stripe of heat down to your cunt.

Despite that, his cock only seems to grow larger, twitching against your tongue, as you part for a moment, a trail of saliva and cum dripping from your lips, “Taste so good, Sugu — gotta have you one more time—“ you envelop him with your lips again — and he’s a mess of moans, head thrown back, thick haze of lust as his eyes finally meet yours. You swallow around him, tongue wrapped around his length, as your sinful fingers touch whatever can’t fit in your mouth.

“S’good baby, should’ve fucked this mouth a long time ago,” and he’s gone, as his hips begin to slowly roll against you, watching as you don’t resist, the tip of his cock brushing against your throat, “good fucking girl, never gonna go a day without these lips around my cock,” and god, he’s so close — twitching in your mouth, but what sends him over the edge is when he feels you moan, and spots your hand down your shorts.

Fuck, he’s pulling out, “can I—“ and you pump him in response, a grunt of your name as you let him cum all over your face and chest, the sight enough to make him hard all over again — his thick release slipping down your lips, as your tongue darts out to taste it again.

And he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, tasting his own cum on your lips, before grabbing his discarded shirt to clean you off. His hand grabs your wrist and eases it from inside your cunt, tongue darting out to lick the release from your fingers, cleaning each of them.

In an instant, he’s got you spread on his bed, legs parted for him, “where’s that attitude now, pretty?” And his lithe fingers sneak under the elastic of your panties and snaps it against your skin, making you squirm, “seems like all those words fell out of your head just from sucking my cock,”

He’s slowly dragging your underwear down, before pulling at his bedside drawer to stuff your panties in, “for later use,” and you can’t managed a reply before his lips are pressing butterfly kisses up your thighs, before his teeth graze the soft flesh of your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from your lips, before sucking and soothing it with his tongue, “mine, all mine,” he’s already hard again — the feel of your soft skin under his lips was enough to have him cumming again like a virgin — the burning in the pit of his stomach only burned brighter for you — god, would he ever work his way out of this state? But as his gaze was met with your lovely dripping cunt with your puffy clit begging him for attention, he couldn’t seem to care.

You hiss when his fingers slowly spread your folds, “So fucking tight, baby, how am I gonna fit in you?” he clicks his tongue, inhaling, as his nose brushes against your clit, making your hips jump, “patience, gotta take my time with this princess cunt, gotta make sure you’re ready for me,” his dick twitching at his next sentence, “because I sink my cock in here, we’re not stopping at one round,”

Your cunt squeezes around nothing at his words, his breath warming your sensitive pussy, until he finally drags a stripe up your needy folds.

“Sugu, fuck,” his arms brace your thighs and hips down, as the tip of his tongue drags teasing circles around your clit, your slick gathering on his tongue, as he tastes it with a groan.

“Fucking, the best thing I’ve tasted,” and as much as he wants to bury his dick in you, he could live with his face between your thighs, “so perfect f’me,” and his tongue trails in tight circles around your clit, while his finger toys with your entrance, gathering your pre on his finger, teasing your entrance and delighting in the way your breath hitches.

He looks up at your face between half lidded eyes, you’re too fucking pretty — your hair a mess from, a sheen of sweat on your body, the lovely way your nipples were erect, and your eyes — pupils lost to lust and need. And all for him.

Fuck, he knows he won’t last long at this rate, he can already feel the urge to palm his raging cock, but he wants you to cum first, and he’s sinking a finger into your sweet cunt. He can almost imagine how your walls would feel fluttering around his cock — but he doubts his engorged tip would be even fit right now.

No, he needed to make this good for you — he slowly starts to finger fuck you as his tongue circles your clit in tighter circles, even sucking on it, and by the way your fingers grasped at the sheets, crumpling under your touch — you liked it.

Pretty moans left your lips, as your fingers found their way to his dark locks, still slightly damp from his shower — as he added a second finger inside. His name said between pants, as his fingers drag against your molten insides — the wet squelch rang in his ears as he fucked your cunt open. Knuckle deep in your sweet pussy, he knows he’s addicted — to the feeling of your molasses insides — warm and soft for him, his digits curling against your walls, looking for that one place that would make you fall apart.

“Sugu, please, please ‘m close—,” and he knows you need a little more, and he’s obliging with a chuckle, a third finger joining the other two, and he’s fucking you in earnest now — lips closing around your clit and sucking mercilessly, as his fingers find that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. Your back arches, as your nails dig into his scalp, as you cum around his fingers — walls fluttering as he eats you out through your high, his name leaving your lips again and again, as you slowly come down from your high, thighs twitching and chest heaving as you do.

As he finally pulls away, his chin and mouth glossy and drenched in a mixture of your cum and his spit — that he licks clean from where his tongue can reach, fingers collecting the rest, as he looks at your sticky cum gathered on his fingers.

Fuck, he could live in your cunt. Your sweet taste was the only thing he’d crave now after consuming curses — he wondered if you’d let him eat you out for hours after the curses he ate — he was sure your taste was the only thing that would erase that disgusting like nothing else ever would.

He’s giving you soft kisses after, dotting them up your body, murmuring praises, but you’re pulling him into a kiss, your fingers resting against the back of his neck, as your other hand finds his aching erection, swallowing his gasp with pleasure.

“Want you, Sugu, please,” and your words are enough to make him cum right there, as he tugs your hand away, “Sugu—”

“Won’t last long if you keep touching me and whining like that, Princess,” the heat only seems to lick at his skin like flames, engulfing him with every touch, and his cock was the epicenter of the wildfire, while you were the fuel that only made it consume you both to ash, “but I know it won’t be long until I’m fucking you again anyway,” Your cunt throbs at his words, as he draws close, dragging his weeping tip against your folds, watching his pre-cum smear against your slick with a grunt, “feels like you’re already trying to swallow me up, princess — you want this cock that bad?” fuck, he can’t hold back anymore, as he’s lining up himself up, and he’s sliding right into you with a groan, “know how long been waiting to do that?” his skin meeting yours as he bottoms out deliciously, stretching your walls out with his girth, pleasure ripping up your spine, “wanted to do this since the moment you walked through the door, but needed to do this right — when nothing about this was right,” he had so many things to say, while your mind had left you with not even a syllable, his cock twitched and pulsed inside your walls, dragging against it deliciously, “wish our first time wasn’t like this — but I’m so glad it’s finally happened, sweetheart,”

And you can’t help but smile up at him, lips parted with a small moan, as tears burned at your eyes from his size, “Me too, Sugu, wanted you for so long, needed you—” and he’s kissing your tears and words away with his lips,

Then he begins to fuck you — hard, the slapping of your skin and the wet squelch of your sex filling up most of the silence of the room, while both of your moans and grunts took up the rest. Your cunt was heaven to him — warm, wet walls wrapped around his aching cock — the slightest bit of relief was overcome with waves and waves of need — he needed to fuck you, needed to make you cum, needed to cum inside — he just needed you.

“S’big, Sugu, too big,” you whine, he was almost too much for you, the way his dick fucked places you only could imagine reaching, as his mouth leaned down to take a pert nipple between his lips — sucking and licking, as he couldn’t have enough of you, while his hand toyed with the other, “feels too good,”

“I know baby, gonna fuck your princess cunt so good — make sure its made just for me,” he’s murmuring, as his teeth graze your tit, as he pistons into you again and again, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix with each thrust, “all mine, baby, fuck — such a good girl for me,” and the praise has you keening against him, the knowing flutter of your cunt that tells him you’re all too close to the edge, as his hand reaches between your bodies to rub at your clit, “cum for me, pretty, need to feel your pretty little cunt squeeze me,”

And you do, falling apart as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again — fuck, you felt so good, as he watched his cock slip in and out of you, a white ring of your release forming around his base. He’s fucking close too — can feel his balls tense, eager to blow his load, “where—”

You’re still moaning, eyes blown out in pleasure, as you watch him fuck you again and again, “Inside, Sugu, fill me up,” and that’s it, he’s gone — spurting his hot release, painting your walls, as he does, fucking it inside you — deeper, deeper, until he stills for a moment. And you’re twitching, eyes fluttering shut, when he pulls out, a groan parting his lips as he watches his seed spill from your cunt.

But then silence for several moments, the soft pants of your breathing only, before you hear him swearing and grunting, as your eyes open, and your pussy twitches at the sight before you. Suguru’s hand slid up and down his still erect cock, his eyes squeezed shut, as he groaned, “Suguru—”

“Wasn’t enough, need more,” he’s shaking his head, as his fingers squeeze around the base of his cock, “thought it would be enough to cum with you, but I can still feel it—” and he’s groaning, as you sit up, watching your mixed releases drip from you, “baby—”

And your lips kiss the tip of his weeping cock, “I told I’d help you,” and you ease his hand away, as you lick up his length, your eyes fixed on his, “just because we fucked, doesn’t mean we’re done,”

And in a moment, he’s got you flipped onto your hands and knees, as his cock slaps against your ass, his fingers squeezing the flesh, as he leans over to kiss your back, “Then I guess we’re gonna be up all night, sweetheart, because if you’re okay with this — I don’t think I’ll be satisfied with just a blowjob,” his tip drags against your messy cunt, “gonna need something a little tighter than your mouth,” and he’s sinking his thick cock into you again, balls slapping against your ass as he begins to fuck you, “better cancel any plans you have, pretty — because we’re not leaving this bed for a while.”

“Don’t fall asleep on me, baby,” his fingers grab your chin, and force you to meet his gaze, as he fucks into you, as you sit on his lap, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, “almost gonna cum, and don’t want you to be asleep for it,”

How many times had you fucked? You had lost count — but you knew you had done it in far too many positions — on your hands and knees, standing up, against the wall, from behind with his hand gripping your leg up, and far too many others — and now you were spread in his lap, cock deep in your pulsing pussy, his lips kissing your neck, as he fucked into you, his dick reaching a deeper angle from this position, easily able to hit the furthest parts of you.

He had cum in you more than you thought was humanly possible — and you supposed it wasn’t — it was only the curse that enabled this — it was animalistic even, the way he rutted into you desperately. He grabbed a water bottle only to take a swig, and find your lips again, forcing you to swallow the water.

“Good girl,” he’s grunting, his hips beginning to stutter, “I’m close baby, are you?” You hadn’t thought it was still possible to feel pleasure at this point, but it was — his cock dragged against your walls, his dark gaze finding yours, “tell me you wanna cum,” and your pussy twitches at his order, “use your words, pretty, or have I fucked them all out?”

“Please, Suguru, I wanna cum on your cock,” and you’re so fucking close again — the all too familiar knot in your stomach ready to snap any moment.

“Fuck, greedy pussy hasn’t enough of me? We’ve been fucking until the daylight now,” as his hand grabs your chin to make you see the first rays of light peaking over the horizon, and he’s making you bounce on him with each thrust of his dick — your orgasm building and building with every brush of his tip against your g-spot, “fuck, s’good for me, baby — been so good — just need one more and we can stop,” and tears stream down your cheek that only make him groan, his lips finding yours in a messy, sloppy kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth right as his cock hits at the deepest part of you—

And you squirt all over him, drenching his cock and lap as you cum, your lips parting from him, as your head is thrown back, boneless, as he fucks into you, your spasming walls pulling him over the edge as he paints your insides with his release, fucking it into you, until he finally slows, your body draped on his, head resting on his shoulder. Bodies sticky with sweat and cum, his cock finally softens inside you, the heat finally beginning to dull, as he presses soft kisses and gentle caresses to every inch of your skin, as he lays you down carefully, pulling himself from you.

“Thank you, princess, thank you,” and you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck, soft breaths cooling the sheen of sweat on his skin, “did so good for me,” and he slowly rises, grabbing his shirt and running it under water to clean you off, if only a little.

You’re already half asleep, eyes only fluttering half open to watch him, and he can’t help but bite his lip, “Sugu?”

“Yes, princess?” And you nod, fingers twitching for him, and his lips curl as he obliges, wrapping you up in his body, “know it was rough on you baby, I’ll make it up to you — don’t worry, just rest,” he grabs a water bottle, and lifts your head ever so slightly and helps you drink some water.

“I know you want to ask me something,” and he pauses, as he pulls the bottle away, “I can see the gears grinding in your head — you can ask me anything, y’know,” you had quite the way of embarrassing him, didn’t you?

“I know, I just,” he swallowed, “was there any other reason you came back to Tokyo, aside from the threats, did you come back for anything else?”

And your lips curl, raising an eyebrow knowingly, “Anything or anyone you mean?” and you chuckle when his eyes can’t meet yours, your fingers finding his again, “baby,” and your hand brushes against his cheek, tracing the cut of his jaw, making his breath catch, “I did come back for someone — a very particular someone,” and he smiles, as your lips lean up to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “and my friends, of course,” you add, “I love Utahime, but I missed Shoko and Satoru, and you,”

“You did?” he murmurs, and you giggle, kissing him again, melting into his touch again, as your foreheads brushed against the other’s, “Sugu?” and it’s your turn to ask something now, chewing on your bottom lip, “can we do this again?” you murmur, before adding, “not like this but—“

And he laughs, pulling you impossibly closer, lips finding your leaping pulse, “Yes, we can, if you want to — because I know I do, because,” his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, “but I want all of you — want your body, your thoughts, your time, your heart and soul—“ and his lips quirk at the sight of your eyes widening ever so slightly, “is that okay?”

And your lips find his own as an answer, sweet kisses turn languid, heat stealing any doubts from either of your minds, “As long I have yours as well,” and the two of you share only a few more kisses, before you both finally drift off.

“If he’s fine, and I’m checking on him, I’m kicking his ass,” Satoru grumbled, as he held his phone between his cheek and his shoulder, Shoko sighing as he rooted through his pockets for his keys.

Shoko chewed her lip, she hadn’t heard from him in hours, “He was in bad shape, I can't find the time to go check and you were on your way home anyway,” Shoko says, wiping her brow, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers.

“Yeah, on my way home back from a mission,” he finally finds his keys, sticking Suguru’s spare key into the lock and turning it, “If I have jet lag, and all I find is him jerked off and sleeping, you owe me,”

He twists the knob, and looks — he doesn’t see Suguru in the living room or kitchen — but he does see takeout containers spilled on the floor, along with a very familiar bag, and he blinks, before his lips curl. He asks if she’s heard from you, to which she says no,

He walks silently to Suguru’s bedroom, opening the door a crack to see you and Suguru curled up against each other, your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around you, the comforter strewn about and covering the rest of your bodies.

Satoru only grins, before he pulls his phone from his ear and switches to the camera.

“Never mind, Shoko, I owe you one,” and he snaps a picture of the two of you, wondering how many missions he could pawn off to Suguru now, “I’ll treat you to lunch.”

✧ a/n: so this turned out way longer than i thought (story of my life). i had so much fun writing this - i've been writing this in conjunction with prof geto part 3 and its been funny darting back and forth between these two -- although the scenes i've been writing

✧ taglist: @peachyminx, @garfunklefield, @unicornqueen05, @hiyori-ii, @equikaz, @unoriginalidea, @forest-fruits-jam, @torusinfinity, @hellkaiserinphoenix, @loonimae, @gojoedd, @sugurufic, @glaceliy, @telvess, @kentocalls, @nayasch, @iluvvreze, @yamaguccitadashi, @faeismism, @hanxyy, @catsgomurp, @sukaibg, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @gojorgeous, @getos-slvtt, @sirencholia, @teatreeoilll, @dewdropdive, @appysauc, @kobycetacean, @missroki, @fushitoru, @pricetagofficial, @that-goth-bisexual, @shoyosdoll, @regrettinglifechoices, @mostinsanegirl, @roseybean, @fayyyrieee, @gojobbg, @strangehuman101, @saccharine-nectarine, @i-belong-in-a-retirement-home, @spider-fan72

#sab [mlist]#geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto x reader #geto smut #suguru geto smut #geto suguru x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto x you #jjk x you

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slttygeto · 4 months

Text

tags: pure filth, fem! reader, established relationship, use of a vibrator, squirting, dirty talk.

word count: 1k

sex with suguru could only be described as unpredictable. sure, you were able to detect hints of lust thrown your way by the tall man, thick and rough pads of his fingers skimming over your smooth skin underneath your shirt as he passes behind you, hands gripping your sides and squeezing. your body reacts to his teasing and it’s easy to follow him to the bedroom. he feels in control, likes that sweet words and soft touches can make you end up on top of him, riding his dick like the sweet girl that you are.

however, when the two of you are…excessively needier than usual, sex can turn into something sort of animalistic. the carnal desire to devour one another, bring as many orgasms out of each other and the sounds—the sounds should embarrass both of you.

suguru doesn’t consider himself to be extremely vocal. he groans, moans and shows his appreciation for your ministration on his body but right now—his mouth won’t stop.

“yeah baby, yeaaah,” his words are straight up filth as he presses the vibrator to your clit. his pace is unforgiving, strong hips driving into yours with the force of a predator hunting. your hands are on the headboard, trying to protect your head from the contact but it’s all hazy.

“suguru!” you cry out, eyes staring down at where your boyfriend is pressing the pink vibrator against your clit. your legs try to close from the overstimulation, but a strong hand keeps them open and your head turns to the side with a loud cry.

“keep em open for me, fuck—don’t run away from it, I know you want it.”

your hand grips at the pillow beneath you whilst the other makes a failed attempt at gripping suguru’s forearm. choked sobs and whines are the only sounds you can manage as he starts rubbing the vibrator over your clit, your thighs shaking and twitching at the unbearable yet delicious stimulation.

“yeah? pussy wants a fat cock ruining her and a vibrator, a lil greedy, don’t ya think?”

as he says that, his free comes to your stomach and traces the skin with his thumb, very gentle at first and your brain feels like mush at the contrast between his brutal fucking, the vibrator and his gentle touch. but you should’ve known that suguru is the type to softly lead you into his territory, only to jump you the moment he notices that you let your guards down.

the hand on your stomach presses down and you hear several clicks on the pink device, and when your body jolts up—you realize that he set the level higher.

the gasp that escapes your body sounds inhuman, and your body tries to run away from suguru despite being caged between his strong thighs. he is fucking you with a purpose, needing to prove something—he towers over you and presses his forehead against yours.

“look at me, come on baby look up—theere she is,” he grins at your fucked out expression, half lidded eyes glossed over with tears that had already fallen a couple of minutes ago. “feels good, huh? should’ve done this sooner,” he leans down and kisses your pulse and then travels back up to your cheek and finally your ear.

when he starts fucking you at a different angle, your hands fly down to his hips and your nails dig into his skin. you can’t talk, you don’t trust yourself with words now—but suguru always thought you were like an open book to him. especially when naked and vulnerable beneath him.

“oh here?”

“fuck! fuck fuck fuck—“ you choke out a sob. “suguru—oh baby, I’m close, I’m so so close,” you’re blabbering, barely breathing and suguru’s self control is slowly dissipating. up until this point, he’s been able to control himself and not explode inside you. your cunt was squeezing him deliciously, your cries, the way you said his name or how you held onto him—suguru needed to cum inside you.

“yeah you are,” he breathes out, any hint of playfulness overshadowed by the sudden lust washing over him. his orgasm crept up on him fast, and he needed to make sure you fell over the edge first. “come on, I know you can cum for me,” he says while rubbing the vibrator over your clit.

when you finally cum, the added pressure of his hand on your stomach makes something snap in your stomach and you feel wet. you don’t have time to register, everything is like white noise for a while before your brain leisurely takes control again. your breathing slows down, yet your hands hold onto suguru’s shoulders as he throws the vibrator somewhere in the corner of your bedroom to grab onto your hips properly.

his eyebrows are pinched, a sheen layer of sweat coating his forehead as his bangs stick to the skin. he looks magical, even more so when you start to fuck up into him, help him reach his own orgasm.

“fuck baby—“

“mmm sugu,” you whine at how his dick keeps abusing that one spot inside you. “cum baby, please,” your arms wrap around his neck to pull him down into a hug. “fill me up, I want all of it,”

when being the one talked dirty to, suguru malfunctions. his brain short circuits and his body seizes up as he drops his head on your shoulder. he empties himself inside you with a few more stuttered thrusts, thick and hot ropes of cum serving as the reward of his hard and incessant fucking.

running your fingers through his hair, both of you take the time to catch your breath, enjoy the intimacy and the nakedness of it all. moments like these are precious, suguru’s body nuzzles against yours like a cat trying to live in your skin— and you giggle when his nose nuzzles against your pulse.

“ya liked the vibrator?” he mumbles against your skin.

“oh fuck—“ the realization hits you that were all messy from squirting on him. “I…came messy,” the shyness that washes over you, preventing you from saying “squirt” makes suguru laugh into your neck.

“you mean you squirted?”

“not the point!”

note: another self indulgent piece. will i ever stop? no.

2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

#moon's works #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #geto suguru smut #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk geto #jjk geto suguru #jujutus kaisen smut #geto drabble #geto suguru imagine #suguru geto #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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saetoru · 9 months

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what’s mine is yours

synopsis. suguru is a good best friend—he shares everything. just this once, he shares you too

word count. 2.1k (it's short i promise)

contents. fem! reader, reader is suguru's girlfriend, minors do not interact, virgin satoru <3, cuckolding, fingering, safe sex (who am i ?? jk suguru would not let satoru hit raw lol), petnames (princess, baby, and sweetheart), suguru teaching satoru how to fuck <3

notes. dash pls look away. i am horny at 1 am

satoru, for all his big talk and loud front all these years, is still a virgin. suguru finds it a tad bit funny—but out of the kindness of his heart, he decides to help his best friend change that.

how? you, of course.

“be careful how you handle her,” suguru says with a sly smile, “she’s still my girlfriend—and i have to take care of her. isn’t that right, baby?” his gaze turns to you, finger stroking your cheek gently as you whimper.

“so wet,” satoru mumbles, fingers sinking curiously into your dripping cunt, flexing slowly to pump in and out of you as you whine. his fingers are long, maybe longer than suguru’s—but not nearly as skilled.

“yeah?” suguru chuckles, “bet you like that, huh? careful though, satoru—don’t get used to this. she’s still mine.”

suguru, the ever gracious best friend, has always been one to share. he decides perhaps he can extend the favor to include his girlfriend too—but you’re precious, sweet and kind and oh so doting. he can’t share you permanently. no, it’s a one time thing—after that, satoru will have to find his own perfect little pussy to savor.

“you really get all of this? all to yourself?” satoru marvels, thumbing your clit as you gasp, your hand reaching over to clutch at suguru’s pants. his hand rests over yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he hums soothingly.

“yeah,” your boyfriend grins, “every day. whenever i want. right, baby?”

“uh huh,” you nod—and then you cut yourself off with a squeal when satoru’s fingertips brush against that sweet spot deep within your walls, making you flutter around him with a tight squeeze. he doesn’t find it as easily as suguru, doesn’t know how to angle and curl the tips of his fingers when he sinks into you.

and fuck, satoru thinks, suguru is so damn lucky.

“she’s a vocal one,” he chuckles, “you’ve been living the dream.”

“you should hear her when you use your mouth,” suguru chuckles—how embarrassing. you want to crawl onto his lap and hide away in his neck, hide away from satoru’s eyes that are watching you so carefully. satoru has good eyes—the best, even.

but you also like it. for some reason, when his eyes stare down at you with a darkened shade of blue you’ve never seen before, you feel the slick pooling from your core, smearing down your thighs and glossing over his fingers, wetter than ever.

satoru has that effect on people—even if he is a bit inexperienced.

“do i get to do that too?” he asks, sending your boyfriend a lopsided smirk.

suguru raises a brow, tightening his hand’s grip on yours before grunting a low, “don’t get ahead of yourself, satoru.”

“you said it yourself, suguru,” he chuckles, “what’s mine is yours.”

“not her,” suguru growls. and then, sweetly, he turns to you before pecking your forehead with a gentleness he keeps for only you. “you ready, princess?”

“princess,” satoru repeats thoughtfully, “yeah i guess you’re a bit of a princess, aren’t ya?”

“p-please,” you sniffle, tugging on suguru’s wrist, “need more, sugu.”

“yeah? he’s not doing his job, is he?” suguru pouts in sympathy, but his eyes are laced with amusement—like he’s enjoying the show in front of him. you’re sure he is, if the throbbing erection he sports is of any hint.

“hey,” satoru gasps, wounded, “i’m doing exactly what you told me—”

“here,” suguru throws him a condom, cutting him off, “put that on. you’re out of your mind if you think you’re feeling her. that’s only for me.”

“fine,” satoru huffs. you watch as he rolls the condom over his neglected cock—it’s red, swollen and aching, flushed at the tip and drooling with pre cum as he hisses when his hand wraps around it.

it’s pretty, you’ll give him that. satoru isn’t as thick as suguru, but he makes up for it by being a bit longer. he curves a bit with a thick vein running along the underside of his cock, balls heavy as they hang painfully, achingly full. he’s neatly trimmed—messy white strands of hair unlike suguru’s dark ones. you don’t know which one you prefer, if you could even pick one of you had to.

you watch with wide, fascinated eyes as his mouth parts with a low gasp when he accidentally teases the tip a bit as he clumsily works the rubber over himself. he’s sensitive at the head—just like suguru. gives those sweet little breathy whimpers when his slit is thumbed at. it’s cute, you think, maybe not as cute as suguru—but it’s still pretty adorable.

“go slow when you go in,” suguru warns, “if you hurt her, i’ll kill you.”

“she’s tough, she can take it,” satoru pats your cheek with a sly grin, “aren’t you, princess?”

“watch it, satoru,” you hear suguru growl, “don’t get too comfortable.”

“aw, it’s all in good fun, right? she’s taking it so well.”

you do take it well—you let satoru’s fingers play with your for ages, let him learn where to find that sensitive spot is in the back of your walls, let him rub your clit slowly—even if you ache for those fast circles suguru always gifts you with. and now, you’re even letting him slide into you, slowly but surely, inching his hardened cock into your impatiently wet cunt with agonizing patience.

“that feel good, baby?” suguru asks you once satoru’s buried to the hilt, splitting you almost in two as you breathe unevenly and nod. and satoru? well, he’s not faring any better—grit teeth and clenched jaw, panting harshly as he focuses on not cumming right then and there.

you’re tight—way tighter than his hand, and way warmer too. fuck suguru for making him wear the condom, and fuck suguru for landing such a perfect pussy too. he doesn’t know how he’s meant to go back to using his fist after a taste of this.

“you can move now—go slow at first, and then go faster when she’s close. she likes that. and don’t forget this,” suguru’s hand travels to your clit, giving a soft little pat that makes you whimper before he rubs it with those quick circles you love so much. “she likes when you touch this too. they all do—so when you get yourself your own girl to fuck, make sure you remember that.”

“i know what the clit is,” satoru grumbles, “i’ve watched porn, y’know.”

“i bet,” suguru chuckles, “is this your first time seeing a clit in person? pretty, isn’t it? everything about her is pretty.”

“suguru,” you whine in embarrassment, burying your head back into the pillow as much as you can, “you talk so much.”

“baby,” he insists, “someone has to humble him. he’s all bark and no bite.”

“i can too bite,” satoru grunts—and to prove it, he angles his hips to pull out, almost completely, before thrusting back into you. you cry out—clutching suguru’s hand tightly as your tits bounce. satoru let’s out a choked moan, gasping as you squeeze around his sensitive cock, eyes fluttering shut with pleasure.

it’s so good. suguru has it so good. you’re so good—perfect, even.

“f-fuck, more, need more,” you sob, and because suguru can’t help himself, his hand grabs at your tit, pinching and tugging at your nipple as he lets you squeeze his other hand in yours. “please, please—faster.”

“you heard her,” suguru hums, “she needs it faster.”

satoru’s good at fucking you—for his first time, he’s got your back arching and toes curling rather quickly. the blunt head of his cock brushes against your sweet spot with ease, long and curved enough to nudge against it with every roll of his hips. of course, no one knows how to fuck you until you see stars like suguru—but he comes to a close second.

your gasps have turned into long, wanton moans, and satoru moans in sync, head falling next to yours on the pillow as his breath fans over your shoulder with every harsh pant. his hips are rutting into you, slamming desperately as he feels you squeeze around him with every deep thrust. you can hear the squelching sound of your arousal as he bullies into your dripping cunt, smeared along the insides of your thighs. it’s messy, it’s rushed, it’s desperate and it feels so, so good.

satoru has never felt this good—and you? well….you have to admit you’ve never felt like this before either. it’s new, maybe not better, but certainly not worse.

“oh, fuck,” satoru groans, voice cracking as he whines against your shoulder, “f-fuck your so tight—‘s so good. so, so good….’m not g-gonna last much longer.”

“are you close, baby?” suguru strokes your cheek, watching as your eyes squeeze and your face twists in pleasure, “can’t have him be the only one cumming. that’s no good.”

“close! ‘m…’m so close, sugu. gonna cum,” you gasp as you nod.

if satoru wasn’t so lost on the feeling of your tight walls constricting around him, fluttering so perfectly that he almost feels like he can’t move, he might have protested that you addressed suguru and not him—he’s the one fucking you after all. it should be him you’re telling that you’re close, not your boyfriend. just because suguru is your boyfriend doesn’t mean he’s the one who gets to bear the reward for making you cum.

right now, that’s satoru.

“aw c’mon, sweetheart, you’re gonna—o-oh, shit,” he cuts himself off with a breathy moan, “you’re gonna make me cry. say my name too, yeah?”

“satoru,” suguru warns lowly.

“see? jus’ like that. yeah, pretty? say it just how suguru did,” satoru, murmurs against your ear, biting your earlobe softly.

your hand, much to suguru’s dismay, tugs from his grasp so your arms can wrap around satoru’s neck and cling to his large figure as he towers over you, fucking you mercilessly. his pace is frenzied now—that steady ache building up in his throbbing length is about to burst, and that coil in your belly feels like it’ll snap any second too.

“s-satoru, please—‘m c-close, so close,” you mewl, “wanna cum.”

he grins, blue eyes raking over your body as his thumb finds your clit and rubs harshly over it in that way you’ve been craving.

“yeah? you close, pretty? ‘s good to hear. i am too,” he murmurs lowly, finishing the sentence off with a shaky gasp as you squeeze around him.

and then you fall over the edge—he sends you hurtling into your high before you can ever register it. it’s new, satoru thinks—it makes his hips stutter for a second when he feels you spasm around his cock like that, sucking him in and squeezing around him enough that he chokes on a whimper and cums right then and there too. he thinks it’s a miracle he held out just long enough to cum after you, thanking anyone who’s listened to his prayers of lasting. it’s almost impossible not to finish immediately with how your walls hug around his length.

by now, his hips have lost any rhythm they might’ve had before, sloppily rutting into you as he desperately rides out his orgasm, thick ropes of cum spilling into the condom that separates him from fully feeling your warmth. he’s sensitive—his cock is throbbing even as he lets go of that built up tension in the form of white, hot release. you milk him until he’s almost certain he’s got nothing left to give, dry and worn out from the way you pulse so harshly around him.

“so good—m-make me feel so good,” satoru breathes in wonder as he finishes, thumb slowing itself along your clit before his body slumps over yours.

it’s hot, it’s sweaty, it’s a mess of limbs as he rests over you, still quivering over your body from the aftershocks of his orgasm. it’s earth shattering—how you make him feel. has he really been missing out on this all this time?

“you’re heavy,” you grumble, patting at his shoulder. he chuckles into your neck, catching his breath.

“yeah? heavier than suguru?”

“i’m careful enough to collapse next to her,” suguru mutters from the side.

“fuck, that was amazing,” satoru rolls over, sprawling himself on the mattress next to you, chest heaving as he breathes, “i see why suguru spoils you so much. you keep him happy, huh?”

“oh yes,” suguru drawls, eyes narrowing. gently, he grabs your wrist and tugs at you, making you sit up as you eye the bulge in his pants and the large wet spot of pre cum staining the fabric. “you’ll see just how happy she makes me in a second here—she’s good with her mouth too.”

idk what possessed me to write this i rly don't. all i know is i want them both carnally

NO PART TWO — please STOP commenting that

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madaqueue · 1 day

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playlists

broke her daughter's legs in two | "bruno is orange" x hop along

synopsis: geto finds you after the village massacre, but things went differently

pairing: suguru geto x reader

themes/content: semi-canon curse au. angst. language. loss, death, mentions of possible abuse.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: a little angst to get me out of my smut era (jk i have so much more lined up lmao) anyways once again i highly suggest listening to this song while reading :)

“suguru?” you whisper hesitantly to the man standing in your doorway. the moonlight shines through the curtains of your dorm room, illuminating him just enough to make out his figure.

he says nothing, staring blankly ahead.

“what happened?” you ask, rubbing sleep from your eyes. he slowly starts walking towards you, a pit of dread forming in your stomach as he silently approaches your bed.

you shouldn’t be afraid. you know you shouldn’t. he’s your best friend.

but you also know what happened - you had read the report earlier today.

112 villagers died.

not a single person left in the village.

concluded to be that of suguru geto’s curse manipulation.

geto set fire to the village and fled.

subject to execution.

the weight of his body at the end of your bed causes it to sag slightly as he sits next to you. the smell of ash, blood, and death hangs on his clothes.

the cicadas chirp outside your open window, filling the air between you until he takes in a shaky breath, shoulders raising ever so slightly.

“i had to,” he mouths, the words barely audible.

his eyes stare straight ahead, empty.

“had to what?” you prod, gently reaching a hand up to his back. he flinches at your touch.

“i had to save them.”

you wouldn’t understand, he thinks. nobody else will ever understand.

the things he saw in that village, the way they hurt them - the two girls. it wasn’t their fault. and yet, there they were. they put them there. in that fucking cage, like animals.

the young girls begged him, tears in their eyes. “please don’t tell.” “please don’t yell.”

he was good. he knew he was good. he had to save them.

suddenly, the old woman behind him, their captor, spat back at them, “don’t speak. you’re both going to hell.”

he did what a good person should do. he saved them.

the world is not kind to sorcerers - he knew this all too well. especially in places like these, the outskirts of society where sorcery was equated to evil and condemned, they hurt them. they blame them. they punish them. the world is a dangerous place for sorcerers.

as he sits in your bed, he starts to shake. no tears leave his eyes, but his breathing becomes ragged, shoulders heaving as he stares into the distance in front of him, eyes unfocused.

in the quiet of your room, all he hears are the crackles of the flames. he didn’t even hear the screams, the pleas, that fell from their traitorous lips. because he was doing good. he was saving them.

your voice pulls him back to reality slightly, still unable to tune out the ringing of bloodshed from his ears. “suguru,” you murmur, “whatever happened, it’s okay.”

he wants to believe you, he does. he wants to feel your hand stroking his back, but it just feels like everything is a million miles away. he’s watching himself break down in the moonlight of your room. he wants to be good.

“i killed them,” he finally utters.

the words make you flinch, even though you knew they were coming.

“i killed all of them. the entire village.”

“why?” you ask, not wanting but nevertheless needing an answer, an explanation, for what happened.

“i had to save them.”

“save who?”

“the girls.”

a sigh leaves your lips in relief. you knew it, you knew suguru wouldn’t just hurt people. he must have seen them, they must have been hurt, and the only way to help them was to burn the village down. you needed this to be true, to reassure yourself as much as him. you knew he was good.

he was your best friend, after all, and right now he needs you.

you think back to the last time you saw him before this mission, how different things were, the morning he left.

–

the two of you sit on a picnic bench, shaded by one of the trees in the courtyard outside the school. geto holds an orange in his hands, peeling it with a small knife. he was always so careful with things like this, never daring to nick the soft flesh of the fruit, a care he brought with him into every aspect of his life. he was always calculated, a quiet thoughtfulness that came second nature to him.

your eyes trace over his hands before moving up to his face, the dark circles under his eyes a physical manifestation of the exhaustion you had seen growing in him the past few weeks.

“suguru?” you get his attention.

“mhm?” he murmurs, eyes never leaving the orange as he continues working his knife around it.

you sigh, not knowing how he’ll react to the question you’ve been dreading. “are you…are you okay?”

his hands freeze for a moment, body tensing, before he returns to his movement. “mhm,” he affirms.

you want to reach across the table, grab him by the shoulders and yell that you know he’s lying, that he is so clearly and undeniably not okay, that he just needs to talk to you and you’ll do anything you can to help him.

but, of course, you don’t. instead, you tilt your head back as your gaze shifts up to the sky, bright blue through the leaves above you.

“you know,” you start, scanning the branches that shake softly in the wind, “i heard that people used to eat oranges in the morning if they weren’t feeling well, the idea of a fruit-curing fever, something in it warming and soothing. they thought it could heal sickness.”

“mmm,” suguru hums softly. without another word, he splits the orange in two, handing you half. “worth a shot,” he says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

–

remembering him, his kindness and hurt, your body language softens. “that’s okay,” you explain, more at ease now that you know he acted out of compassion. “where are they now, the girls? we can go help them, together.”

geto is silent. his eyes slowly move from the floor up to yours, a new darkness in them.

“suguru…” you start.

he just stares.

“w-what did you do?” you stammer, fear reappearing in the pit of your stomach, your hand freezing in place on his back.

“i saved them.” his voice is low, resigned. “it was too dangerous for them. they couldn’t live in this world, a world built to hate them. i needed to protect them. i needed to help them. and i did,” he pauses to take in a sharp breath between his rambling. “now, they won’t have to live in a world that would hurt them. it was too dangerous. i helped them. i did. i saved them.”

as he talks himself in circles, his grasp on everything becomes undone. he loses himself in his words, the mantra he so desperately clung to, the one he needed to say until he believed it.

he was good. he saved them.

your eyes widen as the realization sets in: the girls are dead. just like everyone else in the village. just like the reports said.

as he babbles out the same explanation, shock takes over your body. you can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t move, the only words leaving your mouth are “it’s okay,” over and over again, the sounds mixing with his in your room, chaos swirling in the night air as you both drift away from this reality.

“it’s okay” “i protected them” “it’s okay” “i helped them” “it’s okay” “i saved them” “it’s okay”

suddenly, your body jolts forward as you sit up in bed. the action surprises suguru into silence as he watches you, eyes following your every move as you walk to the small kitchen in your dorm room, taking an orange out of a bowl that sits on the counter.

you shove your thumb under the thick peel, tearing at the flesh of the fruit as you pull it apart in strips. juice leaks down between your fingers and drips onto the counter. holding the fruit in your palm, your bare feet carry you back to suguru. holding out a hand, you both sit in silence and eat the orange.

your voice is raspy and worn as you speak to him.

“you saved them.”

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kumimi3 · 22 days

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₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ military soldier!suguru geto n his handsome smile once he sees his darling tap him out of the military formation, engulfing them with his strong veiny arms and peppering kisses all over their face ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა imagine just how pent up he must've been from training hehe ~ he's got his sweetheart moaning and whimpering with their legs hugging his torso, hickies littered everywhere from darling's neck to their inner thighs, they can try to plead and beg for a moment to rest, but suguru got his ears closed, not when his dick is throbbing n ready for more rounds after enough months without sex ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა "Been missing this for so long, miss having my cock inside you--Ngh! Heh, I miss this pussy... You're gonna be good for me, yeah sweetheart? Say it, say you'll be good for me, then I'll let you cum."

6K notes · View notes

nanaminokanojo · 1 day

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BAD NEWS (part 18)

-just when you thought you were over your humongous crush on your older brother’s best friend, geto suguru, you couldn’t have been more dead wrong, except satoru doesn’t like suguru for you because he knows his kind all too well: a huge ass playboy who breaks hearts like he changes socks. but you think, MAYBE you’ll be the exception…maybe not.

CHARACTERS: drummer!geto suguru x you/afab reader | gojo satoru | various jjk characters

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 18 next>>

TAG LIST: @lilc77 @strxkbylightning @lavender-hvze @maya-maya-56 @kibananya @nerdisthenewcool @darkstarlight82 @lysaray @ti-mame @ri-sa20 @diogodxlot @starlightanyaaa

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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sutorus · 7 months

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THE GRUDGE PROFESSOR!GETO for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: everybody loves professor geto, and judging by the thousands of viewers you get on every live, a lot of people love you, too. but you and professor geto hate each other. you’ve had enough of his humiliation rituals, and decide to do something about it.

PAIRING: mean professor!geto x student!reader

WC: 5.3k i am an unstoppable beast

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, teacher/student dynamic! adult age gap! (reader is in college, unspecified age), sw/camgirl!reader (don’t like don’t read! no shaming 😤), strong language, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, darling), reader calling geto "sir", unprotected relations, creampie, afab reader and terms

A/N: this switches between povs a lot so i hope that’s okay or at least readable lol! also i set out to write him so much meaner but he’s just kind of a simp... enjoy?

reblogs are very much appreciated i'll uwu for u :pleading eyes emoji:

it is said that those who cannot do, teach.

geto suguru could have done many things. he had the brains, the muscles, the features, the traits. the ambition to succeed in any field he desired. satoru says in a world ruled by the strong there is no place for humility.

but humility is not why suguru became a teacher. neither is ineptitude. no, he’d become a teacher because it was the right thing to do.

to use his gifts to help shape new generations, help unlock potentials long dorment and buried deep under years of a lackluster schooling system. geto suguru prided himself, above all, in being a righteous man.

but japan’s most upstanding citizen for 28 years in a row held a shameful secret. a secret in the shape of you.

he saw the darkest sides of himself on your face (eyebrows scrunched, eyes shut tightly, jaw slack as you—), your voice (higher in pitch with desperate moans that sound almost scared on the brink of your—), your body (taut and plump in all the right places, glistening with sweat, bouncing up and down on a—).

when you walked into his classroom that fateful day, the world tilted on its axis. his first thought was, fuck, then, it can’t be, then, most embarrassing of all, i’ll finally find out what she smells like.

(he did, when you went up to his desk to hand over your test. a whiff of vanilla, argon oil shampoo. too sweet, too youthful. and he’d watched you leave, tennis skirt flowing like a water lily, dick already chubby in his pants.)

it was slowly starting to consume him.

the first time you spoke in class, he knew he hadn’t been mistaken. it was really you. the cute, slutty girl he’d been milking his cock to for the better part of a year.

god, when you finally said his name. you would never in your wildest dreams think that he’d been imagining those words coming out of your mouth, of him coming out of your mouth, dripping out of you, all over you—

he was losing it. this was not like him. this was never supposed to happen, and he has to put an end to it.

everybody knew of geto suguru, the prodigy professor. already getting a phd despite not even being 30, handling the administrative slack for the department while managing office hours every day of the week, promoting student events, helping organize spirit weeks and charity drives.

everything he did, he did for others. those not as capable as him — which was most people. in other words, it was really, really hard to hate him.

but you damn well managed to.

and to think you were excited to take his class. everybody told you to run, not walk, to sign up for his twentieth-century Japanese philosophy chair.

“oh, professor geto is just the best,” they’d said. “he makes it sound so interesting and engaging, he gives the most life changing assignments, he really cares about us.”

bullshit.

the first time you stepped into that classroom, suspiciously full for a philosophy class, you felt a shift in the air almost immediately.

and sure enough, professor geto suguru was eyeing you down like he’d just seen a ghost. it made you self conscious, like he’d taken one look at you and decided right then and there you were too dumb for the class.

it made your blood boil. sure, you stood out a little bit from the actual philosophy majors, but that doesn’t mean he gets to judge you. he literally doesn’t know you!

but fine, first impressions are tricky like that. for all you knew, you could’ve been misjudging him right there.

however, with each passing day, you grew more and more assured in your suspicions.

you knew the man had it out for you, always calling on you to answer when he knew you weren’t paying attention, never grading your papers above a B even though you did everything right, somehow managing to fucking avoid you during his excessive office hours.

his looks were almost the most infuriating part of it.

his beautiful face constantly set in that nonchalant look, his big veiny hands always gesticulating, his huge fucking arms straining the fabric of those dress shirts, his ear gauges and man bun contrasting the prim and proper image the rest of him conveyed.

under different circumstances, he’d make your mouth water. under different circumstances, you’d imagine him going down on you all night long, singing praise about how good you taste and how tight you are.

but in this timeline, you absolutely loathed him. and he loathed you too. why? you didn’t know.

but you knew for a fact that it was personal.

“i don’t care,” megumi said around a mouthful of meatball, cutting your monologue short. “i’m not doing it.”

you sigh, melting into your chair. “megumi. please. i am literally begging you, i just need some hard evidence so i can go report his ass.”

he eyes you curiously. “report him for what?”

“i don’t know. bullying? sexism? whatever the hell his problem is,” you pick at your food, huffing in annoyance.

“you’re overthinking it,” megumi replies, dismissively.

“okay, how about this,” you lean forward, putting an elbow on the table. “if you write the assignment for me, i’ll get your dog that expensive halloween costume you’ve been wanting.”

megumi lifts an eyebrow.

“you need to get one for each,” he says simply.

you grin. “deal.”

suguru really does give it his all to make your life with him a living hell. pulls out all the stops, years of friendship with gojo satoru paying off as he comes up with ploy after ploy to get you to drop his class.

it feels bad, being mean to you. but for the hidden, twisted parts of him, it feels delicious.

watching you huff and puff, all hot and bothered when he corrects your answers on the spot. watching you nibble on your pen at the increasingly difficult exams he hands out. letting himself wonder if you missed a stream this week because you were too busy cramming for a make up test.

he knows he’s pushing you to your limit, and even if there’s some sort of sick satisfaction in seeing you so agitated at his hands when it’s usually the other way around, he doesn’t enjoy upsetting you.

the problem is, suguru knows it’s either he gets his shit together or he continues tormenting you, and, well.

the spirit is willing but the flesh is so, so weak.

he knows it’s getting worse, too, because he’s not infatuated by you only when you’re undressing on his screen, or all dolled up in class.

when you tie your hair up in a ponytail, when you suck on a hangnail, when you lick your thumb to erase a smudge on your paper… all of it drives him wild.

he can’t teach with a permanent half chub anymore. this has to end, one way or another.

you sit down in front of your computer, adjusting the camera before turning it on. soon, viewers start trickling in, little dings notifying you of their messages.

you smile, waving at the screen.

“hi everyone! i know i’m a little bit late today, i hope you can forgive me…” your eyes scan the chat, giggling at the compliments. “‘you look tired, sad face’, ah. i’m sorry. i guess i’ve been a little stressed lately.”

your robe falls over your shoulder as you readjust your position. a few donations come in, accompanied by supportive messages.

“you guys are so nice. it’s not a big deal, it’s just this dude giving me a hard time at college.”

you absentmindedly trace your collarbones, reading what your viewers are saying.

“you’ll kill him for me? that’s so sweet,” you joke. “nah, it’s not a student. it’s a professor. exactly, ynlover444, a grown ass man picking on me!”

you sigh deeply, allowing your body to finally unwind and relax on your chair. you prop a knee up against the armrest, giving your viewers a little peek in between your legs. you’re wearing one of your favorite sets, trying to get in the mood after the week you’ve had.

“ugh, sometimes i wish i could just…” you suck in a breath, clenching your hand into a fist before releasing it. “sit on his face and get him to shut up, you know?”

you laugh at the countless me firsts that flood the chat, bringing a finger to your lip.

“anyway! enough about that horrible man,” you reach beside you to grab a box your viewers know all too well by now. “let’s get to the fun stuff, shall we?”

as always, satoru is no help.

“why don’t you just fuck her?” he asks, eyebrows arching above his sunglasses. “ya gotta just fuck her.”

suguru clears his throat before taking a drag of his cigarette. “i’m not fucking a student.”

satoru shrugs. “everybody does it. besides, you basically already do.”

suguru wonders, not for the first time, why he ever told his friend about his situation. about your streams, that he’d stumbled upon randomly and innocently and had gotten instantly hooked, about you barging into his classroom like an angel at hell’s gates, about you you you you, everything about you.

“that won’t fix anything.”

satoru clicks his tongue, swirling his soda inside the can.

“poor, naive suguru. did you not just tell me about what she said on her stream?" and yes, regrettably, suguru had told him. "it’ll fix everything.”

suguru doesn’t even let himself consider it, except he does.

at this point it’s no secret that he’s thought about being inside you, but now that you’re here it’s just too real and too risky and completely fucking wrong.

it goes against the entire life he’s built for himself.

he’s lost. he wants you so fucking bad, wants you close, wants you so far away, wants to ravage you and never have to see you again.

it’s fight or flight. if he got you alone, it could go either way, he realizes that.

suguru wonders what part of him will win by the end of all of this.

your heels clack on the linoleum floor of the hallway as you approach professor geto’s classroom, megumi’s graded paper clutched tightly against your chest.

the thing about megumi is that he's a star student. he’s never gotten anything below an A on any of his essays, makes the dean’s list every year, tutors his seniors. so the big, bright B- on the page tells you everything you need to know.

damn right it’s personal.

you don’t even bother knocking, slamming the door open while still trying to contain your indignation.

geto is sitting at his desk, piles of papers sprawled on top. he has his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a surprised look on his face that would be cute if you didn’t want to slap it right off.

he says your last name like he’d been expecting you all his life.

“to what do i owe the pleasure?”

your jaw clenches as you take a few loud steps towards him. you slam megumi’s paper down on his desk, leaning over.

“professor geto, i demand an explanation. a real one, this time.”

the man takes a deep breath, lips twisting disapprovingly. he smoothes the paper over.

“as i already explained in my notes right here, the structure is fine, but i couldn’t help but miss a more in-depth analysis of the four nodal concerns of philosophy that we talked about in class, such as—“

“no,” you interrupt. “just no. you know you’re bullshitting me and i’m sick of it. this paper deserved an A!”

“miss—“

“what’s your problem with me?” you spit out. your eyes finally meet and there’s nothing in geto’s that could answer your question. your chest is heaving, lips wobbling and hands shaking, trying to contain your anger.

geto clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “like i said, your paper could’ve used a bit more—“

“no it fucking couldn’t have, because it’s not my fucking paper, it’s fushiguro’s fucking paper and the only reason you gave it a B is because i was the one who handed it in!”

he sits up, straightening his posture.

geto sounds austere when he asks, “do you realize how much trouble this could be for both of you if i reported it?”

you can’t believe this man. he’s been picking on you the entire semester and when you finally confront him about it this is what he chooses to focus on.

“are you fucking kidding me?” that earns you a stern look from him, eyebrow raising taller than that fucking high horse he sits on. “professor geto. what did i ever do to you?”

there must be something earnest in your voice because geto sighs, getting up from his chair.

he walks until he’s standing in front of you, leaning against his desk and crossing his feet.

“do i bother you?” is all he says. it surprises you.

you jut your chin out. “as a matter of fact, you do.”

the man hums.

“i bet that’s really difficult for you,” he speaks like he’s sympathetic, like he understands. he sounds almost sheepish when he says, “i bet sometimes you wish i would just shut up.”

you blink rapidly. “no, it’s not like that. it might shock you but i genuinely do enjoy your class, it’s just that—“

“or maybe you wish you could shut me up,” he continues, ignoring you. “maybe going as far as to say that you could… sit on my face to get me to shut up.”

your mouth goes dry.

before your brain can fully process the shift in the atmosphere or the fact that your professor is maybe possibly hitting on you, you realize where those words are coming from.

it’s what you said. about him. on stream. right before fucking yourself on your hot pink dildo.

you can’t speak, can barely even look in his general direction.

you had really thought things couldn’t get any worse. had barged into his office with nothing to lose, almost hoping he would cordially invite you to remove yourself from his class permanently.

but now? now you have no idea what’s going to happen to you.

“i…” you start, the words dying in your throat. geto chuckles, crossing his fat fucking muscly arms across his chest.

he says your name, low and syrupy. “is it true? you’d like to?”

you can feel your face flush hot in embarrassment, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, wishing desperately that you’d never walked into his classroom.

you have half the mind to apologize to him, right now.

“it’s just a figure of speech,” you try. geto clicks his tongue.

“what a shame.”

your wide eyes shoot up and meet his. “w-what?”

he smiles sweetly.

“it’s a peace offering. you can take it, or we can forget you ever said anything,” and isn’t he just so slimey, actually, when he’s the one who brought it up. he had said it, and now…

now you can finally allow yourself to look at him.

those delicious, broad shoulders, the ever-present bored look, the stubborn fringe that falls out of his bun.

you could so easily forget what you came here for.

“so, like, a truce?” you ask, taking a daring step forward. geto nods, uncrossing his arms. “and you stop treating me like i’m fucking dumb?”

he tilts his head. “i think you’re a very smart young lady. determined. entrepreneurial…”

“geto—“

“professor geto,” he corrects you, hands reaching out to graze your hips. “you’re intelligent. i just like to push my students.”

you both know that’s a lie, but it’s okay, because now you know exactly why you got under his skin and it makes your own burn.

you run a hand down the line of buttons on the front of his shirt, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“then… push me, professor.”

it’s so incredibly lame, the porn line you hit him with, but to your surprise it works, a low groan rumbling deep in geto’s chest.

he swiftly closes the distance between the two of you, grabbing both sides of your face and crashing your lips together.

it’s ravenous, the way geto dips his tongue inside when you gasp in surprise. you moan against his mouth, slipping a leg in between his two.

he’s half hard already when he rubs up against your thigh.

geto picks you up with ease and sets you down on his desk, and it’s so fucking cliché, the papers crinkling under your weight, the pens clattering to the floor. but it turns you on beyond belief.

you share a few open mouthed kisses, an exchange of tongue and moans and hot breaths between your lips.

if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit that you've fantasized about it before. a silly idea, at first, something you'd just blurted out mid-stream.

but that little seed had been planted, and when you got yourself off that night, you might've imagined for a moment that it was your mean professor's cock squeezed tight inside you, making you come undone.

geto slips his hands under your skirt, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. you line up your crotch with his, moving your hips in tight little circles that make the both of you groan.

his fingers are tugging your underwear down, down, the soft patch sticking to your gooey cunt. he lets the soaked fabric dangle from your ankle, grazing the back of his knuckles on your core.

“mmm, fuck,” geto breaks the kiss, swallowing. his pretty lips are flushed and shiny, parted around his panted breaths. “you always get this wet or am i special?”

he’s smirking, the bastard, leaning back in to kiss your neck.

god, you smell so good, like lotion and perfume and sunshine and sin.

“shouldn’t you know?” you sneak your fingers up into his bun, pushing your chest against him. he works his lips expertly on your skin, using just the right amount of teeth, of pressure.

geto hums against your neck, kissing a line up to your jaw. he snakes a hand under your skirt, thumb pressing down hard to rub on your clit, two fingers slipping inside.

you immediately clench, a soft, drawn out mewl leaving your lips.

the slide of his fingers against your walls send a chill down your spine, filling you up so perfectly. you feel the thin skin at your opening stretch around him, burning at the friction as his fingers plunge in and out of you.

“god, look at that,” he rests his forehead on your shoulder and pulls the hem of your skirt up. “do you hear that, baby? so fucking wet for me.”

you whine, hands cupping his jaw so you can kiss him again.

“please…” you mumble against his lips. “more…”

you wonder how much of what you can say he's heard before, which exact words have left your lips and sent him over the edge. it makes you self conscious, oddly, like he can see right through you.

not-so-kindly ignoring your request, geto removes his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth.

you watch as his eyelids flutter in pleasure, a hum rumbling low in his throat.

he looks so good like this, just edible.

you pull him in for a kiss before he can, relishing in the surprised little noise he lets out. your knees are wobbling, feet dangling from your seat as you taste yourself on his tongue.

he swallows your moan hungrily, forearms trembling with the need to hold back.

geto knows this is wrong, so wrong on so many levels, puts both your positions in jeopardy, it makes him feel perverted and primal and so fucking alive.

he’s been watching you fuck yourself on those silly toys for god knows how long now, knows every spot that makes your hips buck, knows exactly how to make you cream like a debased slut around a cock.

it should feel unfair, how easy it’s going to be for him to make you cum, only if it weren’t for the fact that your mere presence is enough to get him hard as fucking diamonds.

“tastes good, huh?” he whispers, thumb caressing your chin. you nod, smiling devilishly.

“tastes better on your tongue, prof.”

geto groans low like a starved animal, holding your throat in his hand with a loose grip. he’s overwhelmed, that much shows, not knowing what to do with you or where to start. but there’s one thing he’s sure of.

he presses one last kiss to your spit-slick lips before dropping to his knees.

you can hardly believe it. sulky, big bad bully professor geto suguru on his knees for you. you prop a foot up on his desk, your sole skidding on a piece of paper.

“scoot closer, please,” he asks, cordial even like this. you bring your ass to the edge of the desk, your dripping pussy hovering over his face.

he looks so good under you, hair already disheveled, a delicious tent in his tailored pants.

you tuck the hem of your skirt into the waistline so you can watch as he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning like he’s fucking relieved.

you throw your head back, fingers buried in his silky hair as geto’s fingers find their way back inside.

he fucks them in and out of you lazily, pushing out strings of slick. geto slurps it all up, spreading your wetness all over your clit and sucking it back in his mouth.

god, his cock is straining in his pants but he doesn’t dare touch it, can’t until he’s inside you. you taste like fucking heaven, like all his fantasies, like he always knew you would.

you’re whining softly, bucking your hips into his face almost shyly, as to disrupt his pace.

you sound so much better in person, although he can’t wait to have you moaning into his ear without needing the headphones.

“god, this perfect pussy,” geto mumbles into you, his breathing labored. he runs a thumb all over your cunt, gliding it over your soaked lips. “been dreaming about it for so long.”

“yeah?” you ask. “tell me. tell me how you stroke your cock to me every night.”

and every night might be overselling it. geto is a busy man.

but your words do make him realize that no girl he’s had since he found your stream has satisfied him quite like you do. your flirty smile, your moans, the way they sometimes turn into uncontained giggles as you stuff your pretty cunt with a dildo.

so he tells you, blush spreading across his cheeks.

“fuck, i do,” he tongues your clit, tracing lazy circles. “i do. just look what you do to me.“

and there it is, that cheeky, slutty giggle, directed at something he said this time.

he takes his fingers out, spreading your opening with both thumbs as he licks you all over.

geto gulps, tongue dipping inside of you, sucking your clit into his mouth, sliding down to your entrance, every clench of your pussy pushing out more and more slick for him. no one's ever eaten you out as thoroughly as this.

“oh, fuck, sir,” it slips out casually, the way it would were you talking to any other professor. but given the circumstances, you revel in the deep moan geto buries into your cunt.

you trap your lips between your teeth to keep anything else from tumbling out, but it’s useless.

“please, sir, i’m so close—so close just keep doing that, yeah just like that—“

“fuck,” he mumbles, pulling away to suck in a desperate breath. then, “fuck,” sultrier, right into your core.

you grind against his face, finding purchase in his hair as a final few flicks of his tongue push you right into the crest of a mind-numbing orgasm.

it’s so good, so much better than when you're alone. the friction so perfect, his long, thick fingers plugging you up last minute to viciously fuck into you.

“god…,” you breathe out, legs trembling as he runs his hands up your thighs.

his chin is glistening, bubbles of spit and cum gathering in the corner of his mouth. he looks so good like this, like he was meant to please you and nothing else.

geto feels like a fucking teenager, so goddamn close to busting in his pants at the sight of you. his dick hurts, balls tight and the head throbbing where it’s tucked into his underwear.

“please, sweetheart,” he can’t hold himself back any longer, slick fingers already undoing his belt.

you get to work on his zipper, pulling his pants down along with his underwear and damn.

you figured he was big. he was a tall man, broad shoulders, shoes the size of a yacht, and the bulge in his trousers was a pretty good indication. but it couldn’t have prepared you for the sheer size of him.

longer than it is thick, cleanly shaven, pretty veins and ridges and standing angry red in attention. god, you want it inside you.

he notices you looking.

“do you need more prep? i can—“

“no, fuck no, suguru, need it inside me now,” you wrap a hand around him and he hisses, caging you in with his arms on the desk.

he huffs out a laugh, blowing the fringe framing his face. “what happened to sir?”

you kiss down his jaw, squeezing right below his tip.

“sorry, sir,” you say against his ear. “are you going to punish me for my slip up?”

geto groans, pulling on your hair hard and making you face him.

“take your shirt off for me,” he instructs, and you obey, maneuvering around his tight grip on the back of your head.

his spirit is so unbreakable.

here you are, teasing him, coaxing him to rough you up, push you around, relieve both your frustrations properly once and for all, but he’s just so… adoring, and hungry, and just so irrevocably into you, and you find out that’s so much better.

geto relents his hold on you to unclasp your bra, cupping your breasts and sucking a nipple into his mouth. you whine, caressing his hair.

“so fucking perfect,” he massages your tits, looking mesmerized.

“yeah? they haven’t gotten old to you yet?”

he laughs, so cute, and you can barely remember that just hours ago you hated the sight of him. you stroke his cock up and down, squeezing harder at the tip trying to milk all that delicious pre he’s been wasting on the inside of his boxers.

“no, f-fuck—never gonna get old,” he pushes your boobs against each other, imagining his cock sliding in between them, his balls nestled underneath, his load blown all over your pretty face—

fuck, he’s gonna cum if he keeps going like this.

he rips your hand away from him, ignoring your knowing smirk and pushing his tongue into your mouth.

“i’m gonna fuck you now, okay, sweetheart?” you moan, nodding, shimmying your hips so he can have the perfect angle.

a big hand clasps your thigh to wrap your leg around his hips as his tip pokes around your entrance.

you’re whining in anticipation, clenching around nothing, nails clawing his clothed back.

when he slips in, it feels like coming home. you’re like warm honey around him, cunt pushing him out but clinging to him at the same time, with every stroke. it’s fucking maddening.

“ahh, g-god, sir, ‘s too big—“ you swallow around the lump in your throat, feeling the tip of his cock in your guts.

he’s huffing, concentrated, bullying his cock into you inch by inch with shallow thrusts until he finally bottoms out.

“fuuuuck, angel,” he grips your waist with both hands, like he could just fuck you up and down his length if he wanted to. “took me so well, look at that.”

you do, dropping your heavy head to look at where you’re connected. you clench around him and he whines, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in.

the metal legs of the desk skid on the floor, papers and pens raining down to the floor as geto starts roughly plunging in and out of you.

you let out little ah, ah, ahs in time with his strokes, the ache deep in your stomach finally starting to fade.

“f-fuck, you’re gonna—topple us over, suguru, go easy—“

“can’t,” he chokes out, wheezing as he pushes his cock in as far as it can go.

he gives shallow little thrusts, his length straining the fine skin at your entrance so good, hitting a spot inside you over and over that makes your head spin.

your fingers twist into the back of his shirt, pulling him in to whine right into his ear.

he’s so big, stretching you out so thin that you feel every ridge and vein, can feel both your heartbeats inside your cunt.

“ohhhhh fuck, fuck sir, please please touch me—“

he grabs your ass before you can even finish your sentence and presses you flush against his hips.

geto’s tip is kissing your cervix now, his balls sticky and creamy against your ass, your clit grinding against his pubic bone as his thrusts violently shake the both of you.

“fuck, wanna do it so fucking loud but i can’t, we can’t, what if someone walks in—“

you moan wantonly at his words, expecting to be chided, but geto seems to love it despite his worries because his cock kicks deliciously inside of you.

“look how loud you’re being, listen to yourself,” he grunts out, the belt pooled around his feet clanging with every stroke, the absolutely lewd squelches from your pussy resonating in the entire classroom.

you two sound so good together, better than you’ve ever had, better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“so loud, so wet on this cock,” he spits out, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “do those toys make you feel this good? this full? answer me.”

“hahh, n-no, no one but you,” you can’t think straight, head thrown back in pleasure and eyes squeezed shut. “only you, sir.”

geto whines like he’s aching, pounding into you mercilessly and making a mess under the two of you.

“fuck yeah, that’s right. i’m making you feel good, baby?”

“mm-hm,” you mumble, tongue lolling out. geto's going so hard now, has you pressed up so tight against him, body caging you in, fucking every breath and thought right out of you. “close.”

“yeah?” he speeds up his effort slightly, and you’re sure he’s going to have desk-edge shaped bruises on his thighs tomorrow. “gonna cum on my cock? cream all over me?”

you let out a long, drawn out whine, tits bouncing up and down with the force of geto’s thrusts.

“let me see your face when you cum, darling,” he cups the back of your neck, breathing hard through his nose. “keep your eyes on me. that’s right, sweetie, so good, you’re doing so good.”

you preen at the praise, feeling suddenly self conscious with the man's laser focus attention on you.

you coo out little noises, growing in desperation, holding onto his biceps for dear life as his hips piston in and out of you.

your pull him into you closer and rub your clit against him, grinding helplessly as your orgasm creeps closer and closer.

the moment you open your eyes and meet his hungry ones, you’re cumming. your walls spasm around him, making the glide of his dick impossibly wetter with your release.

geto chokes on a sound, his cock hostage of your pussy’s vice-like grip as your greedy cunt milks him for all he's got.

“f-fuck, baby, look so pretty when you cum, always look so fucking sexy so fucking perfect that you’re gonna make me bust, i’m gonna cum for you god gonna cum inside, gonna blow my load all deep inside this pussy—“

it’s the most desperate he’s ever sounded, speaking through clenched teeth and a soaked mouth. you moan in return, letting him use you.

he slams his forehead down your shoulder when he thrusts once, twice, three times and cums, his balls drawing up so tight that it hurts. he fucks it into you with shallow thrusts, panting, almost wheezing in pleasure.

it feels like it lasts forever, his orgasm. like all of the blood in his body goes straight to his balls to push out the thickest, most satisfying nut of his life into the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

you feel it fill you up so good, hear it, too, squelching and sticking to both of you.

geto’s body slumps against yours and you stay like that for a while, catching your breaths. there’s cum sliding out of you, down his balls, onto some poor student’s essay you have your ass on top of.

when he pulls out of you, he takes a beat to watch it spill out of you some more, his face and chest red, his smile groggy.

“god, this,” geto has to fight the urge to say thank you for letting him fuck your brains out. he swallows.

“yeah,” you blink away the haze, feeling sore and fucked out. “this.”

“…is probably going to happen again, right?”

he knows it shouldn’t. he knows it will.

maybe both parts of geto can learn to coexist.

you grin, touching the tip of your tongue to his lips.

“well, i still haven’t made good on that promise of sitting on your face, have i?”

the next morning, in class, the students erupt in happiness at the news that professor geto had an accident that ended up ruining most of last week’s graded papers he had in his possession.

so he decided to give everyone an A for their troubles.

and finally, finally, there was peace in the world.

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