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chuluoyi · 2 days
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。.*。☆゚ 🕰️ 03.12 a.m
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tw: pregnancy. just a little something based on ask~ gojo annoys you on daily basis, so now you return the favor and he can't refuse it bc you're his baby mama😋
a part of gojo's love entries
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“satoru— your baby is hungry,” you pouted, poking his cheek repeatedly. “sa-to-ru!!”
it was 3 in the morning, and ideally, you would have been sleeping... only that suddenly you were awoken by rumbles from your growing belly.
yet your husband was still sound asleep without any care in the world, prompting you to poke him until you succeeded in making him hear you out.
satoru begrudgingly cracked his eyes open, still having his face tucked under the blanket and yawning. “ngh, sweets… what is it?”
his sleepy voice was thick, low and raspy. usually you’d swoon and leave a hickey or two on his neck but not now, as the overwhelming hunger made you almost curl.
“baby is craving mochi,” you said, eyes shining up to him ever so innocently. “get it for me, satoruuu.”
“oh?” if he wasn’t awake before, now he was after hearing your nagging tone drawling his name. he faced you and drew you closer. “what do you want again, hmm?”
“ice cream mochi!!”
“oooh that.” satoru scratched his head at the memory of him eating the last of it yesterday. “but we ran out of them, sweetheart… wait till morning, yeah? i’ll go to market to get some.”
“but...”
“can’t baby wait a few more hours, hmm?”
“no! want it— now!”
satoru blinked at your insistence. you looked positively adorable while sulking at him too.
“why mochi all of sudden, huh?” he decided to humor you. “you used to say they taste bland.”
“that’s because of your sperm infecting me,” you sullenly accused. “and don’t pretend you haven’t been feeding me mochi for weeks. baby likes it more than i thought.”
“hey! don’t bash my sperm! they did no wrong and completed the deed splendidly!”
“you’re just a one-time donor, don’t be smug.”
he whined and you huffed, before suddenly your stomach grumbled loudly and you curled up. “mmhm.”
“hey… what’s wrong?” satoru quickly sat up and placed his hand on your baby bump. “really hungry? wait, i’ll get you something to nibble on first.”
he rummaged through his work uniform and found several bite-sized chocolate bars he brought around, and unwrapped the foil. “here.”
you immediately devoured the treat to sate your hunger, but still, your baby longed for more—
“mochi…” you mumbled despondently, your expression turning heartbroken. and one second later satoru realized how much he wanted to squeeze your cheeks, and relented.
“okay, okay, sweets~” he gave your head several comforting pats, making you look up. “i’ll go and get the mochi, yeah? you stay put and wait for me, 'kay?”
“yay.” a little smile bloomed in your face and satoru chuckled, finding you so unbearably endearing.
and so, for you, he ventured out to the closest 24-hour convenience store, picking up some ice cream mochi along with other treats to replenish your stock, before teleporting back home.
he was expecting that you'd still be all sulky while waiting for him, but instead, he found you peacefully asleep, hogging his pillow.
each breath that caused your chest to rise and fall made you appear all the more vulnerable and soft in his eyes.
you looked so irrevocably precious to him. his sweet little wife... in that moment, satoru felt like he was the luckiest man alive, getting to have you as his.
“you naughty girl.” he let out an amused laugh before reclaiming his spot next to you. the hold you had over him— you made him go through the cold night air, and now you were monopolizing his pillow and he had to resume sleeping without one at all.
and yet all he could feel was love. for you and your baby, as he pulled you close to his chest.
“both of you sure love teaming up against me, huh?”
2K notes · View notes
hoshigray · 2 days
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Heyyy. Can I request a college au. Reader is an average, socially awkward person but somehow managed to pulled the campus heartthrob, Geto (or gojo). And he's lowkey obsessed with her and try to be fucking her every chance he gets.
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: why not both? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk, felt like doing a threesome for some reason lmao
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting - sex in public places; gymnasium locker room + dining hall + college dorms - oral (m! + f! receiving) - face + throat-fucking - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping, grinding and licking/sucking) - face-sitting - threesome - double penetration; anal and vaginal - cowgirl dp position - anal fingering (f! receiving) - kissing/making out - protected sex (psa: warp it up or get tf up) - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - sato + sugu being whipped over you, hehe~ - slight humor - mention of tears and drool.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k (pretty long for a req, lol)
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“Oh, Y/n, it’s good to see you. Did you have a good weekend? Let’s walk each other to class; I was waiting for you.”
“Y/nnnn! This cold day is so much warmer now that you’re here. Let’s grab something to eat at the dining hall, okay?”
You thought college life couldn’t get any more difficult than it already is. Oh, how you were so wrong… 
Being on your own on campus was hard enough; states away from your family and having to rely on and take care of yourself while also striving for a better education. On top of this, making friends (outside of your roommates Shoko and Utahime) is such a social and excruciating chore as it’s challenging to put yourself out for people to notice you. Making small talk with your peers or talking/discussing group material in classes has your heart racing enough – not to mention trying to commit to clubs – making you feel a bit of a failure as a human being.
With that, you almost dwell on not trying at all. You’re utterly content with your inner circle with your roommates, waking up and heading to classes and back, eating college food, and sleeping after reading for a lecture. This routine of sticking to yourself was a notion you’ve grown to accept and find comfort in — no need to change it if it’s been doing you well this far.
That is until you meet them — Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, the best friends of your roommate Shoko. 
Gojo is the star player of the school’s basketball team, a famous face among the class years, and the “disgustingly tactless, cutesy prince” of your year, as described by Utahime. By morning, he’s a dedicated student in his business administration major and history minor classes; by afternoon, he is his playful, social, and charismatic snow-haired soul, grabbing the attention of others and bringing life to those around him with his bright cadence. In addition, he’s a talented figure, capturing the hearts of many with his model work in fashion shows and playing fan-favorite roles in plays.
In contrast, Geto was a much more mellow star that pulled the hearts of students and professors alike. The raven-haired bioengineering major was a boy whose presence was easy not to notice yet quick to pull you in when making himself known. His tall, docile figure emitted an aura that accompanied the soothing tune of his voice, the perfect combination that made him trustworthy and obliging to the students around him and his lacrosse teammates. With the charming features of a heartthrob and the alluring speech of a leader, he’s someone many would turn to in search of a person to follow and praise.
Satoru and Suguru, two complete opposites – two best friends – who are, without a doubt, the twin stars of this school. However, there was one thing the two shared in common, something that made your heart skip and your mind race every time knowing this fact: the two were unmistakably and sickeningly in love with you!
How? You do not know. It all started when Shoko brought them over one night for dinner, and you saw them for a quick moment in the kitchen, quickly greeting them before rushing back into your room. Next thing you knew, you had begun to see and run into them every so often, which soon turned to at least once per day. And now, like a white bubbly puppy and a black, quietly affectionate cat, you could not shake them off you when and wherever you went.
Oh, it was something you were not used to, being sneaked up from behind by Gojo, who’d pull you in for a hug or lift you with every greeting in public (as if you weighed like nothing)! Especially in classes where Geto would surprise you with his calm voice and a warm hand on your shoulder to check if you were okay before claiming the chair next to you. And you couldn’t push them away — how could you when two of the most renowned faces on school grounds want to be around your presence!? Good Lord, it was all overwhelming, Shoko and Utahime having to step in to beat the boys into shape for making you uncomfortable.
And then there are those times when the two would butt heads with each other because of you! There have been a handful of times where if one had you to themselves, the other would bore glares to the former’s skull. Gojo would suck his teeth with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, white brows furrowed and ticked off blue eyes concealed by his dark circle shades. “Yo, Buddha with bangs, can you let go? Y/n promised to hang with me after their classes ended, and I’d be damned if you’d be third-wheeling.”
“That’s not happening, Satoru,” Geto’s hand grasps yours with more grip, royal purple eyes narrowed at his white-haired friend. “Y/n and I have a presentation to work on for tomorrow. Go lollygag somewhere else.”
Two positive bundles of life will immediately turn hostile when it comes to you, suffocating your very being as you’re stuck in the middle of them. It’s bad enough being with either of them has people notice and talk about you; it’s another thing when you’re being fought over like some small bunny between two snarling wolves. Oh God, why me!!??
But it wasn’t all bad. If anything, being fawned over by the two was a strange thing that has happened to you thus far, and not in a terrible way. Gojo has made you a lot more open and social than before, dragging you to parties he’s been invited to and to his crowded games (where he’s always sure to find you and blow a kiss). And spending time with Geto has sparked instances where you’re courageous enough to speak for yourself with a bit of a push from him, throwing in your inputs for class discussions or having him aid you in knowing your material when you two study together.
The two most popular guys in school who flatter and are obsequious over you. That in itself is enough to make your cheeks and ears dial in warmth, shielding your face in your pillows just thinking about them. You like them both, bound to be drawn in by the handsome boys and their pursuit of you.
However, their infatuation was something you’d find out goes beyond words and handholds. An obsession for you embroidered in their very minds…and bodies.
“…Mhahhh, Go—Mmmph! Gojooo…we shouldn’t be doing this…”
“Aww, c’mon, Y/n, you know I don’t like it when you call me by last name. It’s just the two of us here…Fuck, keep licking it like that…”
Sneaking into the basketball team’s locker room is one thing; sneaking in with the star player in the team with you between his legs on the bench and sucking his dick? Oh, that’s a can of worms you never thought you’d open in your entire life. 
Gojo brings his head back, banging on the locker behind him as the contact of your tongue on his pink tip sends shivers up to his shoulders. “Fuuuck, you feel so good, baby. Gonna make me cum again…” You peer up with lidded eyes as you suck his tip into your mouth, him humming at the warm sensation of your mouth swallowing his length whole. Your face is hot of embarrassment, being looked down on by him as you do such an indecent thing on him in a place of changing for men. 
This was his idea – bringing you to the gymnasium to watch him practice with his teammates for an upcoming game. Then, he pulls you aside once the guys want another fifteen-minute water break, bargaining into the men’s locker room and pulling you in for a hot kiss. Sucking on and nibbling on your lips and tongue has you mewl sweetly for him, distracted as he pulls his shorts and briefs down to expose the erection growing inside him. “Sorry, you just looked too cute watching me from the side,” he’d say with a hazy glint in his eyes shielded by his shades.
So here you are, sucking him off to the hilt, where your lips meet strands of his white pubes, making your boyfriend cum for the second time. Gojo brings a hand to your head for purchase, moaning as your hand massages his balls. “—Ahh, fuck…God, you’ve gotten so good at that, cutie. Can’t get enough of you...”
His words burn your ears, his aroused tone making your face even more hot to bear. Gosh, this was such a dangerous game; your nerves constantly on edge in hopes nobody would walk in.
However, your worries might have been what jinxed your fate because you two heard the door to the locker room open. You instantly move your mouth away from Gojo’s cock and stand to panic. But before you could, Gojo quickly grabbed you by the wrist and took you to one of the bathroom stalls. You sat on the toilet, bewildered at being dragged all over this fitness center. Then, Gojo brings his dick to your face again, and you give him the most shockingly confused expression as if he can’t hear the commotion of two people speaking where they used to be.
“Relax, no one’s coming here,” Liar, we almost got caught! He pushes the tip to your mouth, and you murmur on his length, filling your mouth and throat. “Let’s make this one quick, okay?”
You were too busy registering him place his hands on your head before he could slam himself to your mouth; the sudden thrust of his hips propelling his cock deep into the tight crevices of your throat makes you grip onto his shorts for dear life. The slap of his ruts fills your eardrums; you can’t tell how far or close the two guys who entered the locker room are. He’s making you focus on nothing but him — a selfish objection from a selfish man as he’s using you to relieve himself in the men’s locker room. God, this was such a bad situation, and yet your lower half couldn’t stop the throbs that have you shifting your thighs together. How embarrassing! 
“Hhnnn, fucking shit, your throat feels so good,”  he praises, his slender fingers massaging your scalp. Your tongue brushes the underside of his length in a way that has his pace go faster, and he has to keep his moans to a lower volume. “Shiiit, baby, I’m gonna cum…Take it all in…!”
You have no choice but to, forced to gulp down all of his load that he spills into your tight, warm throat. He still rocks his pelvis into you until every pump of his jizz is inside you. When your ears pick up the sound of the locker room door opening and closing with the dismissal of the two strangers, that’s when Gojo takes his long shaft out of your mouth, spit connecting from your tongue to his cockhead is wiped with haste. 
But then, Gojo pokes your cheek with his tip, a sign that he wants to go again. You throw quiet pleas, “N–No, Gojo! You have to get back to practice—“
“Shhh, those guys can survive a few games without me. And besides,” he gently slaps your cheek with his cock. How vulgar! “I’ll fuck your mouth til the end of the day if you don’t stop using my last name when it’s just the two of us here.” The playful grin on his lips doesn’t make that threat any better. “One more time, please?”
With hesitant eyes, you place kisses on his shaft while stroking him. “Only one more…okay, Satoru?”
He beams with the dimples of his cheeks. “Yes, pretty girl~.”
And it doesn’t stop there — because Geto is no better. 
“Aww, you two are so cute together~”
You squirm on the booth seat you’re sharing with your other boyfriend, you two sitting across from his friends — a senior couple he shares a lab with that invited him for dinner. Unsurprisingly, you were his plus one, knowing you’re not one for being around people you’re not familiar with. And yet here you are, caged by the wall and Geto’s frame to keep you in this conversation on the side of the busy dining hall.
Geto chuckles before brushing your cheek, "Aren’t we? But they’re the cutest thing to me.” He says as he places a swift kiss on your cheek; it’s an action that has your face grow in warmth — and the couple “awwing” at his affection.
The guy of the couple speaks to the dark, long-haired other. “I never knew you were one for relationships, Geto; you seem so busy with Bio and your clubs that you don’t seem to have time to lay low and be with someone.”
“Mmm, I thought so, too. That is until I met Y/n through a friend of mine,” you jerk at the silent touch of his pinkie grazing your thigh, noting it had sneaked under your skirt to graze its skin. Your eyes peek in his direction, finding that he remains eye contact with the guy he’s talking with. “And, you know, I got to know them here and there, shared some classes with them on the side. Now, I just can’t imagine them being out of my line of sight.”
The guy across laughs. “Sounds kinda obsessive!”
Geto shrugs with a chortle. “I guess it’s like that, I don’t know. I’m just really crazy about them; they’re my sweetheart after all.”
“That’s so sweet!” The girl senior across exclaims, turning to you to ask, “So, how long have you and Geto been a thing, Y/n?”
The question has you stumped for a bit as you weren’t ready to be thrown inquiries. And before you answer, you feel Geto’s hand rub on your thigh. “U-Umm, me—ahem—Geto and I have been a couple for quite a while now? My roommate was the one who introduced me to him—Mmmm!” You briskly flatten your lips at your squeak because the fingers inside your skirt pinch your skin. On command, you spread your legs for Geto to insert his hand inside your panties.
The girl asks more questions. “Oh? So, your roommate brought you two together. Did you know of them before?” 
“Well, not really…She and Geto—Ohh!” You bring your hand to your lips at the graze of Geto’s forefinger on your clit. You turn to him and are immediately locked into his violet gaze. He lifts a brow with an undisturbed smile, and you gulp. “I–I mean, Suguru and my roommate have been best friends since high school, so I kinda got…Nnmm,” you chew your lips when he bullies a digit between your folds to play and tease. “She was the one who introduced me to him…”
“Is that so? Hehe, it’s amazing how the world works, huh?” You listen, but your mind is too focused on Geto’s digits swiping and nestling across your wetness to have your body more excited about his touch. And it gets worse as he inserts his forefinger inside your vagina, causing you to jolt and suppress your mewl by leaning into his shoulder, gripping onto the sleeve of his turtleneck. “Here are two lovebirds all lovey-dovey with each other thanks to one friend bringing them together. It’s crazy imagining you two would’ve never met hadn’t that happened.”
Geto hums at that comment, “I agree; I have to thank Shoko for bringing this little angel to my arms.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead, completely nonchalant compared to the quickened pace of the digit scraping your insides. “Isn’t that right, my love?”
With trenched brows and a shaky breath, you try to reply to the awaiting couple. “Mhmm, yes, I’m so grateful that Suguru is in my life…He’s been such a help to me,” his forefinger goes slow, having you feel every dent and knuckle. “Hahhh, he’s so good to me, and I love him just as mu—Mmmph!!”
“Hmm? Are you okay, Y/n?” How can you tell the guy across from you that your boyfriend’s thumb just surprised your clit with a swipe?  You’d rather melt on this floor had you not buried your face into Geto’s shoulder. 
Speaking of who, he takes the initiative to answer for you. “I think they’re a little parched, must’ve been this lemonade I got for them. I’ll go get them some water—“
“Oh, no, no! I’ll go get the water; I was gonna get more of those garlic knots anyways.” The girl stops Geto from moving, sliding from the booth seat with her boyfriend’s hand to follow suit. “C’mon, let’s leave these lovebirds for a bit. We’ll be right back!”
And so they leave, thanking your lucky stars. Once their figures are nowhere to be seen within the sea of students, you probe the man with a trembling whimper. “Mmmph, Suguru, please, take it out before—Ahhh…! They come back…”
Luckily, he listens to your request with no argument, withdrawing his digit from your wet slick and underwear. And to your horror, he brings the finger to lick and suck and says with a dark look, “Just checking to see what I’ll be having later.”
It doesn’t matter wherever or whenever; Gojo and Geto will be sure that their love for you is expressed to you every chance they get. 
It doesn’t matter the day or hour, whether you are free from assignments, spending time with your roommates, or on your way out to study; those two will find a way to get to be with you. And, to be honest, it can be a bit overstimulating! 
When there are dates to the movies with Gojo, there’s private alone time with Geto on his bed as he eats you out. And when there are days when Geto holds hands with you and walks you to your classes, there are nights when Gojo will fuck you til his cock is warmed inside you in his slumber. It can go either way, the two competing for your affection and time when the other is out of sight. 
Again, sometimes it’s overwhelming for you, never knowing which of the two will have you all to themselves, nor knowing when you can have time to yourself! And it’s not like you haven’t tried putting your foot down to express your wish to be alone. But, albeit it can be utterly exhausting, you know those two love and cherish you so much that it drives them crazy. Hell, it’s driving you crazy just how much they can’t keep their hands off you! 
Especially now when they drag you to their shared dorm room, experiencing one of those days when the two wish to have you in the same presence. 
“Hahhh, damn, Y/n…you’re sucking me off so good,” Geto purrs with a whistle while lovingly patting your head. “So good for me, huh, sweetie?” 
The two stripped you off your clothes to be nude with them on the bed. Your naked frame straddles above Gojo, lying on his back with his face buried into your bare cunt for his mouth and tongue to please you orally. Meanwhile, you suck on Geto’s girth as he leans on the pillows and headboard. It’s his turn after sucking off Gojo (they settled this over rock-paper-scissors) and fingering you to warm you up first.
You whine of his member, Gojo’s tongue doing wonders on your delicate body. He licks on your clit just as you lap yours around Geto’s glans, and then he’ll suck your pearl right as you take in the tip with pursed cheeks. It’s such a mutual shared experience, with how Gojo’s hands wrap to your thighs to keep your chasm on his lips while you have Geto keen to your mouth and hands stroking him. 
“—Khhhh, Jesus Christ…Hohhh, right there, sweetie…” The raven-haired one coos as you kiss your way down to his balls to suck one as you continue to jerk him. “Heh, you doing good down there, Satoru?”
The snow-haired other removes his mouth from your folds, licking your essence that sticks to his lips like honey mixed with his saliva. “Hahaa, you have no idea. I could stay like this for hours,” his tongue licks your come to your clit tantalizingly slow, evoking you to almost choke on Geto’s girth. “Aww, look at you trying to move from me,” Gojo brings your hips back down to him for him to swirl around your labia, his grip on your thighs refusing to submit. “Don’t go anywhere, princess; I’m not finished until you cum on my face again.”
“Ohhh, shit, keep doing what you’re doing, Satoru,” Geto subtly bucks his hips, “I love the way they’re whining on my dick…”
With your puffy lips being busy in the front and your cunt being lapped and nibbled on from below, your senses are clouded by the two boys who seek nothing but your participation in experiencing pleasure. Your head gradually turns into mush with every rut to your throat and every lap around your clitoris. It’s to no surprise that your release seeps out of your body without preparation, crying on Geto’s length as your frame quivers in euphoric bliss. 
And if you think you couldn’t get swamped enough, think again. 
“—Nnngh, fuck, Y/n, you’re gripping on my dick like crazy…Hehe, is it because you can’t look me in the face? Damn, you’re such a cutie…”
Your face is nuzzled in the crook of Gojo’s neck as you’re straddling on top of him, your nude, sweaty bodies melted together to share heat. Your hips bounce up and down on his pelvis, where his rubber-covered length is scraping the walls of your vagina. His left curve grazes and jabs your sweet spots, and your body lies on top of Gojo, which brings more friction to your clitoris. 
“Hahhh, ahhnn—Ohhhh!” Your phrases have doubled down to that of whimpers of pleasure, thinking straight is impossible, and your mind is too deep in a haze to focus on anything outside of what’s happening. And it’s not like you can’t stop your hips from bouncing on his shaft — you’ve tried! But the moment your legs express so much as reluctance or fatigue, Gojo’s hands are right there on your ass to guide you back into the rhythm. So it’s expected when you climax on him once more, clamping onto him as you ride out another orgasmic wave. “Ahhaaa! Sa’toruuu, stooohhp—hic…! I’m ‘oo sens' tiveee!!” 
“You say that, but—hnnn! You’re rocking those hips of yours on your own, baby.” He chuckles at your slurred speech, placing kisses on your cheek as his hands massage your asscheeks. “Holy shit, you feel so unreal; wanna fuck you raw so bad with how tight you are.” 
“Don’t even think about it, Satoru,” you hear Geto’s voice from behind, the dent of the twin-size bed shifting with his added weight. “If I can’t go condom-less, you’re not getting any special treatment out of it either.”
“Psssh, yeah, yeah,” Gojo says with rolled azure eyes before he whispers to your ear. “Come on, angel, let’s get you prepped up.” The white-haired boy’s hands spread your butt, exposing his dick buried deep into your tight slit and your taint.  
Geto grins salaciously. “My, what a dirty sight for me, my love.” You chew your lips to his words, the heat in your ears causing them to ring. You then feel his fingers smothered in lube to meet your asshole, spiraling around it before inserting them one by one. Your holes instinctively contract, making Gojo hiss. “Relax, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple. “We’re gonna make you feel so good.”
You remind your figure to calm down, allowing Geto to play with your anus for it to accommodate the next foreign limb he’ll put inside. Gojo keeps kneading your butt, but he throws furtive thrusts up to your chasm to keep you on your toes. You gasp when Geto removes his digits suddenly, and now you bite your bottom lip at the contact of his cockhead touching your puckered entrance. “Stay calm for me, princess. Gonna go slow just for you…”
Breathing with your mouth is the only way you can function through his insertion; even after he properly lubed himself and the rubber, it never fails to amaze you how you’ve been able to take in his girthy dick times before. Every inch pushed inside you feels as if your breath is pulled away, feeling both your holes become occupied. And your head goes up at the snap of Geto’s pelvis smacking on your ass, mouth agape for drool to sneak down puffy lips. 
“Heh, there you are,” Gojo licks your spit before placing a kiss on your lips. “What a pretty face when you’re going dumb on our dicks, Y/n.”
You couldn’t even reply in modesty because Geto immediately goes pounding your ass with hunger. Your wails come out freely at the pacing of both boys propelling themselves into you. And it doesn’t help that your holes don’t stop contracting on their dicks as they push, the motion making you move your clit against Gojo and having your sore nerves active again. 
“Holy fuck,”Geto drills his cock into your taint, grinding his hips into you to make you whine aloud. He then bends to kiss your sweaty shoulder down to your spine. “You’re so tight, Y/n…like you’re gonna milk me dry.”
Words are exhilarated squeaks and shrills, your arms coming around Gojo’s neck and pressing your hot cheek on his. He snickers at how touchy you are, “Hey, baby,” he coaxes you through the onslaught of ruts that quicken in tempo. “God, you sound so fucking cute, angel…” 
“—Ahhahh…! Ohhh, guysss, pleaseee, slow d—Owwhhnn!!” You cry, eyes watering with the pokes and jabs on your velvety insides, the curve of Gojo scraping you in places you can’t reach, and Geto’s girth having your backside completely stretched for him. It’s all too much to focus on as your delicate bud is pressed on by your weight. “…Nhooo, God, I’m gonna—“
“Gonna cum, cutie?” You nod hurriedly, amusing Gojo for more chuckles. “Let’s cum together, yeah? Such a pretty girl…” And then, Gojo claims your lips for a steamy, passionate kiss, bringing a hand from your bottom to place behind your head to keep you on him. 
“—Hnngh!! Wait, sweetheart, don’t clamp onto me so sudden—Ohh, shit, shit, shiiit,” Black hair strands fall from Geto’s shoulders as he falters at your grip. “Gonna cum, too….Gahhh—“
Your crescendo is the first to appear, howling and mewling into Gojo’s lips while your trembling figure undergoes the shocks of the deep penetration on both ends. The fluttering sensations of your cunt and anus are what prompt the two men to spill their load into you simultaneously, groaning with pleasure from your body. Your head is undoubtedly dizzy, your brain spiraling with impulses as your frame jerks with every wave of your orgasm. 
After his climax is done, Geto slowly withdraws his cock from you. The condom filled with his essence. “Phew, that felt way too good.”
“For real, can’t get enough of this.” Gojo sighs while groping your asscheeks and kissing your forehead. “Ready for another round, baby? C’mon, let’s switch before Suguru gets all crybaby on us.” His sweet tone immediately flips to narrow his eyes at Geto for throwing his used, tied condom at Gojo's face for that comment. “Oh, you disgusting son of a bitch…”
“Shut up and switch, or else I’ll have you watch me pound Y/n for fifteen minutes.”
Being loved and obsessed by the two heartthrobs of the school is no easy work, which is evident when you can’t even get to nap by yourself after the sexual activities. With Gojo spooning Geto while he spoons you, there is no rest with these two; they might as well put collars around their necks and give you their leashes with how smitten they are to be around you.
Yet, at the same time, you don’t hate it — far from that. Because you know their feelings for you are genuine, you can see it in their sleeping faces as they’re probably thinking about you in your dreams as you observe. With a smile, you place kisses on their cheeks and silently leave the bed to use their shower. 
The warm water is just as welcoming and temperate as their love, keeping you safe and washing your anxiousness away. In your thoughts, you reflect on all the times you’ve grown because of them, and it goes to show that their involvement has done substantial help for you. And for that, you are forever grateful for them and will always reciprocate their feelings as you feel the same. 
“Hey, Y/n.”
Well, minus the immediate sense of apprehension that skyrockets once you hear Geto’s voice come behind you. You turn to see his naked self coming towards you to wrap his arms around your waist. “Suguru!? I–I thought you were sleep—“
“I was until you left my arms,” he says to your ear with his dulcet voice, his hands kneading the flesh of your wet hips. “Besides, saves us a lot of time if we share the shower, right?”
“Oh, Y/n~,” another voice enters the bathroom, and your dread plummets even further when Gojo opens the curtains with glee. “Don’t tell me you decided to shower without m—…Oh, you’re here, too.”
“Obviously,” Geto sucks his teeth at his roommate. “I live in this apartment and use this same shower, dumbass.”
Snowy eyebrows crease with irritation as Gojo enters the walk-in shower, sandwiching you between the two. “Well, don’t you think it’s rude for you to use the shower when our guest is using it first?”
“I could be asking you the same thing because who told you to come here?”
“Duh! I’m here to shower with my lover; are you stupid?”
“Are you? Don’t you see a boyfriend is trying to have some alone time with their partner?”
“Oh, eat horse shit.”
“Croak and die.”
You can only stand there and be mushed by the two tall boys arguing over you, unable to flee the scene as they both have their hands on you. Again, you don’t hate it at all. You love them just as much as they love and adore you. They may be the school favorites; however, you are the most precious thing they wish to engage with and want to keep to themselves.
…But would it kill them to give you some room once in a while!?
Jesus, how am I gonna survive with these two…
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
3K notes · View notes
zarameraki · 12 hours
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♡₊˚🥀₊✧ 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝘂𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗲 ♡₊˚🥀₊✧
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 king x concubine 𖥔 lots of plot with porn 𖥔 mentions of abuse 𖥔 mentions of sexual assault 𖥔 normal form sukuna (sorry yall but next time ill do his big boy one) 𖥔 he only has eyes for you 𖥔 you're his darling 𖥔 he would kill for you 𖥔 breeding (!!!!) 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut
: ̗̀➛ words: 8.8k
: ̗̀➛ notes: this took a whole WEEK to edit. im so obsessed with this story. it's my favourite thing ive written because i love period movies and dramas and really got to challenge my writing skills to give it more a fantasy-esque element. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.
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The diligent hands of Lord Sukuna Ryomen’s palace attendants scrubbed away the grime that clung to every inch of your weary form. There were no traces of tears in your eyes, despite the discomfort of the cleansing process.
Perhaps it was the residue of gratitude for an escape from a foster family who saw fit to barter you away for a pittance to fuel their vices.
The water surrounding you had transformed into a murky haze, carrying away the evidence of your former life's hardships.
Yet, amidst this cleansing ritual, you couldn’t shake the puzzling thought of why the guards had singled you out from the other young women within the household. Uraume, the overseer of palace affairs, had arrived alongside them, their presence looming over the proceedings with an air of mystery.
That morning, you were subjected to abuse in front of everyone at the central market, longing for someone to stand up for you. And someone did. They offered you an escape from that hellhole and into a world of luxury.
You weren’t going to complain now that you had accepted this new fate of yours.
“Ya’ got too many scars, girl,” remarked one of the elderly attendants, gently assisting you out of the steaming bath, her hands wrapping a towel around your shivering form. “Our powders will struggle to conceal ’em all. How did ya’ come by such marks?”
“From my foster family,” you murmured, gaze fixed upon your toes as if they held the weight of your past. The plush carpet beneath your feet offered a small comfort, a luxury unfamiliar to your upbringing.
Memories of their harsh discipline flooded back—the blistering gravel underfoot as punishment for daring to voice dissent. It was a brutal introduction to a world where obedience was paramount.
“A wretched lot,” the attendant muttered sympathetically.
Enveloped in a silk robe, she led you into a chamber shared by a cohort of women, a realm far removed from the confines of your previous abode. Here, space was ample—the expanse excessive, with beds lining the walls and a high ceiling adorned with a single chandelier.
As you entered, a symphony of pretty faces and inquisitive gazes greeted you. Women of all colours and shapes reclined luxuriously in plain robes, their hair intricately braided or cascading freely down their backs. Conversations paused, curiosity piqued by your arrival, as all eyes turned to welcome you into their midst.
Beneath the weight of their scrutinising stares, you found yourself shrinking. These women, draped in silk and adorned with jewels, were the king's favoured concubines, a fact repeatedly emphasised during your journey to the palace and even in the fragrant confines of the bathhouse.
Every instinct urged you to rebel, to refuse to be just another ornament in the king’s harem, but you understood the value placed on purity by the monarch.
Unfortunately, your innocence had been cruelly stolen from you by your foster father, leaving you tarnished in body and spirit. Lord Sukuna would have no use for a damaged flower in his garden of perfection.
In truth, you couldn’t even imagine an image of his face in your mind. His Lordship remained a mystery to those beyond the palace walls.
“Here ya’ are.” The attendant guided you to your bed. “That vanity there’s yours to use.” She gestured toward the communal area by the window, where two other young women were preparing themselves. “Once your hair dries, one of my girls will assist ya’ in preparin’ for your audience with His Lordship.” Her touch was gentle as she caressed your cheek. “Rest assured, dear, ya’ safe now.”
You attempted a smile, though the effort seemed Herculean amidst your weariness.
As the attendant departed, her scolding to the rowdy girls fading into the background, you nestled into the comforting embrace of your soft bedding, ignoring the hushed criticisms trailing in your wake.
She’s feeble.
Her hair lacks refinement.
The king would never entertain a lowly pauper.
She’ll be gone by tomorrow.
Their words, like venomous serpents, slithered through the air.
Amidst their degradation, you succumbed to exhaustion.
But your slumber was interrupted by the bustling commotion of handmaidens assembling around you.
Disoriented and scarcely given a moment to collect your thoughts, you found yourself swiftly escorted to the vanity, where the clamour of girls jostling for space filled the air.
They manipulated your locks, weaving intricate patterns into your hair, fashioning a crown braid atop your head while allowing the remaining tresses to cascade freely down your back.
Meanwhile, other attendants removed your robe, their hands moving with practised efficiency as they anointed your skin with fragrant oils, infusing it with the delicate essence of lavender.
Between the flurry of activity, the whispers of your fellow concubines hung in the air like a veil of awe and trepidation. Their eyes were drawn to the scars marring your skin, as they speculated about how the king would perceive your imperfections as repulsive.
Good.
You craved precisely that outcome.
If the king recoiled at your sight, it meant he wouldn’t desire you to bear his heir. If the tales circulating in the town about his monstrous nature held any truth, then he’d likely offer you death as a reprieve—and you’d welcome it with open arms.
Before facing the king, you stole a glance at your reflection, the final moments of solitude before your fate was decided. The powder concealed the imperfections of your skin, rendering it smooth and flawless. Your cheeks and lips bore a muted hue reminiscent of crushed cherries. Delicate white blossoms adorned your hair, woven into your braids by nimble fingers.
As you stood, the other women adorned you in a robe of silky fabric, its floral pattern draping over your form, cinched at the waist to accentuate your curves. Barefoot, you followed them out, the chill of the floor beneath your feet a stark contrast to the warmth of anticipation and trepidation swirling within you.
“Good luck, pauper,” taunted one of the concubines, her voice dripping with disdain, echoed by a cacophony of mocking laughter.
Palms clammy with nerves, you shifted your gaze to the opulence of the palace corridors. Adorned with countless chandeliers and swathes of velvet drapery, they offered a stark contrast to the blooming back garden. Memories of tending to the earth and nurturing life back at your foster family’s home flooded your mind.
“Quickly now,” one of the maids urged, her voice tinged with urgency. “His Lordship detests tardiness.”
“I apologise.” You hastened your steps to keep pace with the group of attendants.
She halted before a grand set of double doors, guarded by imposing sentinels clad in formidable armour. With a flick of her wrist, the guards swung the doors open. She gently nudged you forward, and only as you crossed the threshold did the doors seal shut behind you.
You blinked, adjusting to the dimness within, scanning the chamber until your gaze alighted upon a pair of crimson glimmers opposite you. “My Lord?” You inclined your head and took hesitant steps toward the source of those fiery eyes.
“Come closer,” his command echoed through the chamber, sending a shiver down your spine. The low resonance of His Highness Sukuna Ryomen’s voice was unexpectedly rich and velvety. You had envisioned a voice tinged with age, but instead, it possessed a rough texture that awoken something within you.
With hesitant steps, you approached until you stood at the edge of his bed, your fingertips grazing the diaphanous curtains that enveloped him in a cocoon of privacy.
“Closer,” he urged, coaxing you to unveil the enigma lying beyond the veil.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you obeyed, parting the curtains and gracefully crawled onto the mattress. The silkiness of the sheets were a blatant contrast to the roughness of your foster house’s. A pang of guilt tugged at your conscience as you realized the irony of finding solace in this luxurious confinement of being his concubine.
“Enough.” His abrupt order halted your thoughts, drawing your attention back to the present moment.
As commanded, you obediently settled into your posture, folding your legs beneath you in the dimness. Within his shadowed realm, only the luminous crimson irises pierced through the gloom, studying you with an intensity that made your belly churn. Despite the curiosity burning within you, you restrained the impulse to voice your questions. Instead, you settled in the tranquillity that crowded the space between you.
“What is your name?” His inquiry cut through the hushed air.
“Y/N, my Lord.”
As your name slipped from your lips, he captured it delicately, repeating it like a sacred prayer. Each syllable danced on his tongue, imprinting itself upon the very essence of his being. In that moment, you observed a subtle shift—the shadows that had cloaked the chamber seemed to dissipate.
A soft, golden luminescence filtered through the parted curtains, cascading across half of Sukuna’s face.
You blinked in astonishment.
He appeared . . . young?
The age difference between you and him was not a chasm of decades, but rather a modest gap of no less than five years.
Physically, at least.
His appearance was striking, with locks of hair dyed a subdued pink hue, contrasting with a streak of darker shade beneath. His hair was styled into rugged spikes, lending an air of defiance. Intricate black markings adorned his features, tracing a path from his cheekbones down to his chin, while similar patterns wove across his strong shoulder, cascading over his defined pectoral muscles and sculpted abdomen.
As your eyes fell upon him, your heart quickened its pace, each beat a vicious drumming against your ribs. Gone was the expectation of a lord showing the signs of wisdom, with wrinkles upon his brow and a body marked by the passage of time. Instead, before you stood a vision of breathtaking beauty, defying your preconceived notions and leaving you breathless in awe.
With a graceful gesture, he swept aside the curtains, allowing them to unveil his entirety.
The same markings mirrored the other side of his face and cascaded down the length of his body, a mesmerising display of symmetry. Dark bands encircled his wrists, and his nails bore the same deep hue.
Poised against the headboard, he reclined with an air of effortless elegance, one knee raised as his elbow found a comfortable perch, while the other leg extended out. Though he was unclothed, a veil of silk sheets cloaked the lower half of his form.
“Remarkable,” you unknowingly whispered. Your hand clapped over your mouth. “I apologise, my Lord.”
Sukuna’s lips curved into a sinister grin, his flawless teeth gleaming in the golden light. While many would flee at the sight, you remained rooted in place, unable to tear your gaze away. A delicate flush spread across your cheeks, betraying the undeniable attraction simmering between your legs. He was absolutely divine, and the path of being his concubine suddenly didn’t seem so terrible.
Yet, the reality of sharing Sukuna with ten other women loomed over your thoughts like a shadow. The thought of him spreading his affections among so many others kindled a small flame of jealousy within you, mingled with confusion. Why hadn’t he impregnated at least one of them with the promise of an heir?
“Have you not been schooled in the art of lowering your gaze in the presence of nobility, Y/N?”
Your lashes fluttered as you registered your lapse in decorum, hastily averting your gaze. “Forgive me, my Lord, if my oversight has caused offence.” Surely, he wouldn’t punish you for a momentary lapse of admiration.
Would he?
A gentle touch beneath your chin guided your face upward. His fingers spread across your cheek, the warmth nearly forcing you to curve into his touch. Despite the temptation, your eyes remained obediently downward.
“Look at me.”
Your gaze lingered on him, tracing the delicate patterns etched over his cheek, the fiery hue of his irises, the elegant contour of his nose, and the soft curvature of his lips. Never before had you felt such a rousing desire towards any man. Yet fate had chosen to ensnare your heart with the one most forbidden to you.
“You bear a sadness that weighs heavily in your eyes,” he noted softly, his hand descending to the curve of your neck, his thumb caressing the frantic rhythm of your pulse. A low, melodic sound produced from his throat. “Tell me, my love, does the face before you stir fear within your heart?”
“It does not, my Lord. The fear of your appearance holds no dominion over me,” you declared with quiet resolve. “You’re quite . . . beautiful.”
Sukuna’s gaze sparked with a mixture of surprise and intrigue at your response.
Suppressing a nervous gulp, you silently reprimanded yourself for speaking so boldly to one of noble rank. Back in the confines of your former life, such defiance would have earned you swift punishment, yet here, in the presence of royalty, it could lead to your demise.
As you prepared to avert your gaze, ready to accept whatever consequences may come, Sukuna’s voice cut through the tense air before you could retreat.
“Don’t.”
In that moment, you found yourself questioning your instincts.
Why did you not cower in fear? Why did your body not tremble in the presence of a man who had slaughtered the lives of his enemies without hesitation? And most perplexing of all, how could you maintain unwavering eye contact with a figure of such formidable power?
“Remove your robe.” His grip remained firm around your throat, his thumb delicately tracing your pulse. “And do not stray your gaze elsewhere.”
“Yes, my Lord.” Your fingers loosened the fabric’s bindings, allowing it to cascade down your frame. The robe slipped from your shoulders, revealing the soft curvature of your form beneath. As it pooled around your lap, your breasts stood exposed to his scrutiny.
A shiver danced across your skin as his eyes traced the contours of your body, a faint smirk teasing his lips.
He brushed back strands of your hair, his touch trailing down your vertebrate. His eyes narrowed into thin slits, brows knitted together in contemplation, fingers repeatedly tracing the ridges of your scars.
“Turn around.”
The dreaded discovery that sent ripples of revulsion through the concubines had finally come to pass. Your scars lay exposed before the gaze of a powerful lord. Not only would he slit your throat, but also those of the maids who had tended to your needs, and perhaps even Uruame, who had brokered your purchase from the bastards responsible for your imperfections.
“Never before have I been compelled to repeat myself for a concubine.” His voice carried a lethal edge as he increased his grip around your throat. “Turn the fuck around.”
Your compliance came in slow, measured movements as you turned away, presenting your back to him in a gesture of submission. His hands gathered the strands of your hair, lifting them aside to reveal the raw truth etched into your skin. His fingers traced the jagged remnants of whip lashes, the seared imprints of cigars, and the cruel reminders of knife wounds inflicted by a foster father turned tormentor.
Silent tears traced a path down your cheeks, as you sat in a state of numbness, your gaze fixed upon the closed door of Sukuna’s chamber.
A tender sensation, soft and moist, grazed your back, prompting a reflexive twitch in your left shoulder.
Turning slightly, you beheld Sukuna pressing his lips against the scar that marred your shoulder blades.
“My Lord—”
“I did not ask you to speak,” he murmured over your skin, sending a tremor through your frame. “Rise onto your knees.”
Obeying his command, you ascended onto your knees, feeling the weight of his hands settle upon your waist. His lips trailed a path of reverence, bestowing kisses upon each mark that scarred your skin, from your marrow to your nape.
Your breath caught in a delicate dance of exhales, a whispered symphony escaping your parted lips. The wet caress of his tongue sent ripples of sensation coursing through your being.
His arm circled your waist, drawing you into the sanctuary of his embrace. A fleeting kiss graced the nape of your neck, followed by the suction of his lips upon the tender side of your neck. His soft hands possessively held the curve of your breasts, cradling their weight.
Your head reclined against his strong shoulder.
With his gaze fixed upon you, his lips glistened with a hint of moisture, while his crimson eyes locked onto your own human-like ones. You dared not divert your gaze as he previously ordered. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, sending lightning strikes through your frame.
Unlike the non-consensual encounter of the past, there was no hint of agony; only a tantalising blend of pleasure that left you breathless, without a protest or helpless whimper. Instead, a sigh of pure rapture escaped your lips, encompassing your body in an embrace.
Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as if he had stumbled upon a long-sought treasure.
His fingertips skated down your torso, gliding toward your centre. You captured your bottom lip between your teeth. Holding his gaze became a daunting challenge as he skillfully teased your sensitive nub, causing your breath to quicken and your chest to rise and fall with each exhilarating sensation.
Sukuna slid his middle finger into you. “You’re incredibly tight, Sad Eyes,” he murmured, the endearment he had bestowed upon you almost provoking a smile. His lips grazed your ear as he continued. “Perhaps I should stretch you out”—he pushed in his ring finger, forcing a sharp gasp to tear from your throat and an involuntary arch of your body against his chest—“so that your cunt is able to welcome my cock.”
You stifled the knot rising in your throat as Sukuna plunged his fingers into you. Such profound bliss seemed inconceivable with mere digits alone.
“My Lord.” Your breath caught as he increased his tempo. “My—” Each thrust intensified the knot in your stomach, threatening to unravel you entirely. You teetered on the brink, dangerously close to staining his fingers with your release. A sharp gasp choked out of you as he struck a wondrous chord deep within. “Please, my Lord. I beg of you—I will soil your hand if you persist—” But your plea dissolved into a cry of ecstasy before you could utter another word.
Sukuna’s laughter danced teasingly in the hollow of your ear, leaving you utterly spellbound.
You were overheated, overstimulated, overridden by the explosive undoing of his fingers. Breathless and consumed by lust, your world spun as he seized your jaw and crushed his lips to yours.
In that electrifying moment, his tongue invaded your mouth, initially startling you, yet you surrendered to the rhythm.
Sukuna leaned back slightly after planting a tender peck on your lips. Exhaling softly, he threaded his fingers through your hair, his touch sending shivers down your spine. As his lips met yours once more, gentler this time, your hand ventured to trace the contours of his adorned chest.
“You are quite the vixen.” A playful glint danced in his eyes. “How valiant of you to seduce a lord into bestowing kisses upon his concubine.” A broad smile graced his lips, leaving you uncertain whether his words were playful jest or genuine admiration.
“Do you not bestow your kisses upon all your concubines, my Lord?”
“I do not pleasure their cunts, either.”
His speech carried the brashness of a tempest, a departure from the expected decorum one associated with royalty. Sukuna Ryomen defied conventions. It was a trait uncommon among lords, yet one that intrigued you deeply. His demeanour, both in battle and in the intimate confines of the bedchamber, lacked the softening. But you found yourself drawn to his unfiltered honesty, appreciating the absence of cryptic speech.
As you sat before him, considering your next words carefully, a surge of courage emboldened you to reveal your truth.
“My Lord,” you began, your voice quivering with uncertainty, “I . . . I am not pure.”
“Given the sounds you were drawing out,” he quipped with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t have surmised otherwise.” He assisted you in rising from where you rested against his chest, positioning you before him. Observing your solemn expression, he arched an eyebrow in curiosity. “Was your satisfaction not fulfilled?”
“Indeed, my Lord, it surpassed any expectation,” you confessed, worrying your lip as he sighed impatiently. “But I must disclose . . . I am not chaste.”
Sukuna’s response was subdued, save for the faint twitch in his jaw. He averted his gaze from yours momentarily, reaching for the decanter on his bedside table and pouring himself a measure of spirits.
“Speak,” he instructed, his tone clipped.
“It occurred before I reached maturity,” you murmured softly, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself. “My foster father—” Your words faltered as Sukuna raised a hand, a silent acknowledgment of his comprehension of your unspoken anguish.
“I need not hear more.” He swiftly consumed the crimson liquid in a single gulp. “You are dismissed for the night.”
“But my Lord’s desires remain unmet—”
“Leave,” he commanded, his tone final and unwavering.
With a gulp, you hastily gathered your robe around your form, delicately extricating yourself from his expansive bed.
Just as you thought to retreat, a firm hand seized your wrist, drawing you back into Sukuna’s embrace. His lips melded with yours in an intoxicating kiss, causing both your gazes to flutter open when he pulled away. A faint smirk played upon his lips as he adjusted the robe over your shoulder.
“Next time,” he murmured, plucking a flower from the adornments in your hair and placing it upon his bedside, “you shall grace my chambers without such distracting embellishments upon yourself.”
“As you wish, my Lord,” you replied with a respectful bow of your head, awaiting his dismissal until he gestured for you to depart with a casual wave of his hand.
In the shared chambers, your fellow concubines swirled around your bed, eager to hear of your inaugural encounter with Lord Sukuna.
Each girl shared their own vivid tales, painting scenes of ecstasy under the cloak of darkness, where the king’s touch invoked sensations akin to celestial bodies colliding, or where unfamiliar pleasures erased the boundaries of their throat—whatever that latter entailed.
Though a twinge of jealousy flickered within you, it was swiftly overshadowed by a swell of pride. The concubines pleasured Sukuna in darkness, the same darkness you had willingly entered, before his touch had set ablaze a world of gold for you.
They were merely beautiful means of physical gratification for their lord, devoid of the intimacy you shared—his fingers delving deep into your core. And never had any of them spoken of kisses exchanged. Sukuna had spoken true when you questioned if others received similar treatment.
But why you?
Why, after a mere span of ten hours within the palace walls, did you find yourself, dare you entertain the notion, as his favoured? What magic did you possess that drew him to you, and how had you managed to seduce his lips, his fingers, to meet yours in such an intimate embrace?
“Did he spend himself inside you?” one of the girls whispered, prodding your knee to rouse you from your silence.
“No.”
“Aye, he never does,” remarked a golden-haired girl with a resigned sigh. “He sees to it that we consume some berries afterward, claiming they prevent conception. Strange, isn’t it? Especially if he’s so eager for an heir.”
Another girl hushed her, leaning in with a conspiratorial tone. “Did he take you from behind? That’s his favoured position, you know. He’s had us all that way.”
You stumbled over your words, unsure how to respond.
“And did you savour his taste?” came the next question. “It’s quite rich in sodium—”
“Girls!” A booming voice echoed from the doorway of the bedroom, startling you and the other concubines into immediate attention. You caught sight of the elderly attendant who oversaw your care, hands planted firmly on her hips as she observed the chaotic scene before her.
With a disapproving huff, she pivoted sharply on her heel and departed, leaving a lingering sense of reprimand in her wake.
As the frenzied chatter about Sukuna’s body attributes gradually dissolved into the quietude of sleep, morning arrived with its routine of communal showerings.
Throughout the shared bath, you silently scrubbed away the remnants of the night, indulging your fellow concubines about your previous life in town.
Upon drying off and exiting the bathing chamber, you were met with an unexpected sight: a gathering of the girls clustered around your bed.
Navigating through the throng, you reached your space to discover a resplendent scarlet silk robe embroidered with intricate black floral patterns.
Gingerly lifting the note placed atop the fabric, you read Sukuna’s precise handwriting. Curious glances from the other concubines peered over your shoulders in anticipation.
No distracting embellishments, Sad Eyes.
“What does that mean?” a curious whisper floated through the air, followed by murmurs of intrigue from the other girls. “Why does he call you ‘sad eyes’?”
You clutched the letter to your chest, suppressing a grin as you ignored the questions, the mockery, and the jostling of bodies around you. Your attention was fixated on the magnificent robe gifted to you by His Lordship.
For the remainder of the evening, you slept without any interruptions, seeking to compensate for the countless nights spent battling insomnia within the confines of your foster home.
You observed with a keen eye that none of the other girls were ushered to Sukuna’s chambers; their time seemed to veer toward strolls in the back garden or spent in the dormitory, indulging in wine-fueled scandals about the palace staff, as was their custom.
As the clock struck eight in the evening, a troupe of maids entered the chamber bearing dinner trays. A wave of anticipation swept through the room as the other girls eagerly accepted their meals and accompanying pitchers of water. Your own stomach rumbled in hunger, awaiting your own turn.
But that moment never arrived.
Instead, the maid bypassed your bed entirely, moving on to the next. A surge of apprehension rippled through you as a handmaiden approached, guiding you away from the mattress and toward the vanity.
“What about my dinner?” you asked as the attendants groomed your hair.
“His Lordship has extended an invitation for you to dine with him tonight,” came the reply.
The room fell into a sudden hush.
Dine with him?
The notion sent a flurry of thoughts racing through your mind.
Before you could process further, you found yourself pulled upright, your garments removed to be replaced by the scarlet robe.
Envy flickered in the eyes of the other concubines as they observed, their resentment palpable as they stabbed at their food with exaggerated aggression. It wasn’t your doing that Sukuna had taken an unexpected interest in you.
With no adornments save for a dab of crushed cherry paste upon your lips, you were escorted to Sukuna’s chambers.
Once more, the imposing doors swung open, and you found yourself gently ushered into the chamber. As they sealed shut behind you, the room was flooded with light. Sukuna’s figure stared out at the moonlit gardens outside, clad in a billowing white silk robe.
“My Lord,” you greeted respectfully, inclining your head in deference.
“Draw near.”
Complying with his directive, you approached and stood at his side. His presence loomed over you, his stature commanding and formidable, capable of engulfing you entirely with a single embrace. Not that such thoughts dared to linger in your mind.
“Why is your face flushed?” he asked, his gaze penetrating.
You blinked, attempting to dismiss the telltale warmth creeping up your cheeks. “It’s nothing, my Lo—”
Before you could finish, Sukuna turned your chin towards him, his palm coming to rest against your forehead. A nervous swallow traced its way down your throat at his touch, his eyes trailing down your form, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as they settled upon you in your robe.
“Thank you for your gracious gift,” you murmured, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks.
His fingers trailed through your hair, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes. “I anticipate nothing less than thoroughly enjoying the privilege of removing it off of you.”
You blushed deeper at his statement.
“Come now. I’ve brought a surprise for you.” He took your hand in his with a tug, guiding you towards a doorway. With a simple flick of his hand, the door parted, revealing a dimly lit hallway beyond.
Your gaze widened in astonishment. “How did you do that, my Lord?”
“Do what?”
“You opened the door without laying a hand on it.”
Sukuna’s striking blood-coloured eyes cut to you. “There is much about me that will be unveiled in due course, my love. What you perceive is but a guise for my true nature.” His smile, oddly childlike, sent a chill down your spine.
Was he some sort of sorcerer? You’d only heard whispers of human anomalies lurking beneath the earth’s surface or sealed within vessels, but historical accounts weren't exactly your cup of tea.
“I ventured into town today,” he said.
“Oh.” You swallowed hard, recovering from his previous statement. “I hope it was a fruitful trip.”
“Indeed, quite fruitful.”
In the soft glow of the distant hallway, Sukuna’s face came into view, casting a spell of trepidation upon your heart. His features were drawn into a mask of stoicism, his eyes devoid of warmth, and his lips pressed into a firm line, jaw rigid with tension.
Parting the curtains, Sukuna drew you near, his arm sweeping out to reveal a horrifying sight: your foster father, bound to a chair with chains, bearing the cruel marks of torture.
His face marred by countless wounds, an eye cruelly absent, his mouth devoid of teeth, scattered at his feet. His dignity stripped away, his vulnerability laid bare in his nakedness, and his manhood amputated.
The sickening lurch in your stomach threatened to betray your composure. “F-Forgive my intrusion, my Lord, but is he . . . is he dead?”
Sukuna’s response was a gilded dagger from within his robe, its handle decorated with a jewel reminiscent of your own captivating eyes. Nestled within the hilt was the very flower he had plucked from your hair, a twisted token of affection. Upon the blade, your name was inscribed.
“Do as you wish, my beloved,” he whispered, his voice stained with dark fascination, offering you the instrument of your foster father’s fate with a chilling sense of detachment.
You couldn’t possibly bring yourself to commit such a heinous act.
Despite the unspeakable cruelties inflicted upon you by the bastard, the idea of taking another’s life filled you with a trembling dread.
Yet, the itch to end the torment, to rid the world of such a vile presence, simmered just beneath the surface as you stood before him, his life slipping away.
A hand trailed down the back of your head, guiding your trembling fingers to grasp the dagger tightly.
Looking up, you met Sukuna’s gaze, his expression hollow, his features obscured by shadows. This was the face of the Devil that cursed his enemies on their knees and had them willingly submit to death.
With a push from behind, you stumbled forward, drawing closer to your step-father’s prone form.
Glancing back at Sukuna, you were met with an incongruously bright smile. Quite a twisted paradox, His Lordship.
Your step-father sat unconscious, the stench of his bodily fluids assaulting your senses. His wounds oozed with a sickening mixture of blood and pus, his laboured breaths the only indication of life remaining within him. The scene was painfully familiar, a mirror image of the torment you had endured countless times before.
But now, someone had intervened, offering you a chance at liberation, a chance to end the cycle of abuse once and for all.
You glanced back again.
Until Sukuna.
Your gaze reluctantly returned to the true embodiment of cruelty before you. With a steady hand, you raised your arm, wielding the dagger with purpose.
It found its mark in your foster-father’s chest, a chilling silence punctuated only by the sound of steel meeting flesh. Ignoring the strangled cry that erupted from him, you withdrew the blade, then drove it back into his heart.
Out.
In.
Out.
In.
His lifeblood painted your face and stained your pristine garments, mingling with the fabric in a macabre dance of crimson. To the untrained eye, it could easily be mistaken for a mere splash of vibrant colour upon your robe.
No one would dare suspect the truth.
No one would dare come near if they knew of your sin.
No one, except Sukuna.
Once the monster over your bed was consigned to the depths of hell, his guts spilling onto the floor around your bare feet, you allowed yourself a moment of grim satisfaction.
With a contemptuous snarl, you spat upon him, a visceral response to the years of degradation he had inflicted upon you for every misstep.
A comforting warmth touched your back.
Startled by the sudden contact, you tensed before easing at the sight of Sukuna’s faint smile.
As he reached to caress your cheek, you instinctively recoiled, lowering your gaze in deference.
“Forgive me, my Lord,” you murmured, “but I cannot permit you to spoil your hands with the blood of this man.”
Sukuna’s shoes entered your line of sight as he tilted your chin upward, his moon-white sleeve wiping away the traces of blood from your mouth and its vicinity. “You appear rather exquisite painted in blood, Sad Eyes. Perhaps I ought to designate you as my prized assassin instead of a mere concubine.”
“I beg your pardon, my Lord, but I cannot partake in killing . . . again.”
“You need not worry,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he drew near. “I will defend you from any who dare cast their gaze upon you, let alone lay a hand upon your delicate form. Those who dare cross that line will face my wrath, their very existence extinguished before your eyes. Not a single tear shall stain your cheeks." His lips brushed against yours. "From this moment forward, fear shall not reside within you. By my side, you shall command fear itself, my love."
That night, Sukuna bathed you in the sanctuary of his chambers, washing away the traces of blood from your skin as you gazed at him with a sense of wonder. It wasn’t the superficial admiration the other concubines whispered about—it was a profound affection blossoming within you, nurtured by power and protection.
He draped you in the luxurious folds of one of his silk robes, summoning servants to prepare dinner. Seated upon his lap, he fed you spoonfuls of rich and chicken, even as your stomach protested its fullness. Soft kisses peppered your neck like a sweet dessert, culminating in one upon your lips before he reluctantly released you to retire to your dormitory.
In the ensuing weeks, Sukuna would consistently send a crafted robe ahead of each meeting—in the serene seclusion of his chambers, where the flickering candlelight cast shadows upon the walls as you dined together.
Over the course of these intimate dinners, he eagerly absorbed your musings, whether they revolved around the narratives of books discovered within the palace library or your adeptness with herbs and plants, nurtured by your profound knowledge.
On occasion, as the first light of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, Sukuna would summon you for a stroll in the haven of the back garden. Woven between the fragrant blooms, you’d dance about with childlike enthusiasm, identifying various flowers and tracing their lineage.
Ever the attentive listener, Sukuna trailed behind you, his gaze fixed upon your animated figure. He would only speak when you fell silent, demanding you to continue sharing the familial ties between apples, plums, and the roses they stemmed from.
Within the crevice of your soul, the once withered garden of affection had flourished into a lush wilderness, blossoming with untamed wildflowers and clouds that spelled out his name.
Sukuna inhabited your every waking thought, his intoxicating mouth that worshipped your body left you giggling in delight behind your hands.
Yet, each encounter with a fellow concubine, flushed and eager with tales of their rendezvous with him, felt like thorns piercing your tender heart. Jealousy, like ivy creeping upon stone, entwined itself around your every plagued thought. Your gaze often strayed to the bedside drawer where the dagger lay dormant. The mere mention of his physique by the other women tormented your soul relentlessly.
Why hadn’t Sukuna taken you as he had with every other concubine? You had grown accustomed to his presence, even eager to reciprocate the pleasure he gifted you every evening. You had offered yourself willingly, aching for the intimacy that would bind you even closer to him. But he had not claimed you in the same manner, not entered you fully, not seeded his legacy within you.
Did he question your worthiness? Did he see you merely as a transient pleasure? Were you destined to remain just a concubine, forever denied the honour of carrying his child?
“Why do you remain silent?” Sukuna asked, turning the pages of the book you had suggested to him; he was already half-way through.
You were seated snugly between his legs upon the bed, your back rested against his chest, fingers idly toying with the strands of your hair. “I find myself devoid of words this evening.”
“Hmm.” Sukuna took a leisurely sip of his drink before placing it aside. “Surely you can conjure something. You know well enough that I cannot endure your silence.”
With an exasperated sigh, you rolled your eyes. “Well, I apologise for failing to provide you with amusement, my Lord.”
Sukuna snapped the book shut.
You instinctively pressed your lips together, silently chiding yourself for the unintended sharpness in your voice.
With a heavy sigh, you resigned yourself to maintaining your composure, forcing yourself to take slow, steady breaths. Deep down, you believed that he wouldn’t inflict harm upon you or cast you out of his chambers. But the nagging thought chewed at you.
This was Sukuna Ryomen, and you . . . well, you were merely a shadow in comparison.
“If you crave my touch,” he breathed softly into your ear, “all you need to do is utter the request.”
With a determined resolve, you turned to face him, settling yourself upon his lap. Sukuna regarded you with a quirked eyebrow, a quiet acknowledgment of your unconventional audacity.
“I do crave your touch, my Lord,” you confessed, your voice a hushed plea, “but not only with your hands or lips. I long to feel you in a different manner.” Your gaze drifted down to his pelvis, the unspoken appetite evident in your eyes. “I crave that.”
Sukuna exhaled heavily, his gaze piercing as he addressed you. “So, you’ve been withholding your words simply because I haven’t fed you my cock?"
Heat rose to your cheeks at his blunt proclamation, though you had grown accustomed to his coarse mannerisms over time.
“Yes, my . . . Lord.” Your voice carried a mixture of embarrassment. “I’ve endured three long months of anticipation, patiently waiting to share in the pleasures enjoyed by your other consorts. Yet, with the arrival of autumn, I find myself still untouched by the experiences they so openly boast about.”
His lips curled into a smirk. “Are you asking me to bed you merely for the purpose of becoming a notch in your bragging rights?”
“Never, my Lord!” you protested vehemently, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes. “I would never demean you with such vulgar talk in public. I’ve spun tales to the others, concealing the truth of our encounters. They remain oblivious to the pleasures you’ve granted me.” Your fingers traced the intricate markings on his chiselled abdominal muscles. “If my spoiled state displeases you, if I am deemed unworthy of your touch, pray, inform me now. Regardless, my sole wish is to fulfil His Lordship’s needs.”
Sukuna disentangled your hands from his chest, a gesture that caused a fissure to form within your heart, forcing your body to instinctively withdraw from his touch.
Just as you began to pull away, he swiftly encircled his arm around your waist, tugging you back onto his lap with a firm grip. Before you could utter a single word, his lips descended upon yours, silencing any protest with a passionate kiss.
With a purposeful touch, he skillfully divested you of your robe, revealing the curves of your form beneath. His hands, warm and adept, began to massage your supple breasts, kindling soft gasps from your lips. His own trailed a wet path downward, leaving a bridge of feverish kisses along the expanse of your throat, lingering over the rapid pulse beneath your skin.
As his lips found purchase on the tender flesh of your neck, his actions became more urgent, his touch more demanding. A pinch at your pebbled nipples sent a shiver of sensation coursing through you, followed by the heat of an open-mouthed kiss.
Your gaze drifted downwards, enchanted by the sight of his tongue encircling the sensitive spots, suckling on the swollen buds like a babe. Already, heat was building within the depths of your being, igniting a flame that spread between your legs.
Sukuna laid you back, relishing the delicate flavour of your lips as his fingers skillfully sought out your throbbing clit, stimulating it with unhurried circles.
With practised ease, he slipped two fingers inside you, quickening his rhythm without preamble. Your hand instinctively traced down to his chest, undoing the fastenings of his robe.
“Take it,” he whispered against your mouth, his breath mingling with yours. “Satisfy your lord, my love.”
Your fingers curled around his pulsating cock, the very object of desire that the other girls had passionately recounted. The knowledge of their previous intimacies with him only stoked the flames of envy within you, spurring you to intensify your ministrations.
With a surge of determination, you quickened the pace of your caresses, applying pressure with your thumb upon his sensitive tip while fondling his sacs.
Sukuna’s grin widened against your lips as he reciprocated with equal zeal, slipping a third finger into your slick heat until he was fully engulfed by your swollen core.
Together, you sailed upon the waves of carnal desire, locked in a lecherous race to reach your climax, each vying to be the first to cross the finish line—
Sukuna’s low, guttural moans resonated throughout the chamber.
You had achieved victory.
His essence spilled forth into your waiting hands, his cock convulsing with the intensity of his release. Moments later, you succumbed to your own climax, a soft cry escaping your lips.
With care, Sukuna withdrew his hand from your centre, and you instinctively examined your palm, noting the striking resemblance of his essence to your own.
You tentatively brought your fingers to your lips, savouring the taste of him.
“I did not instruct you to do that,” he growled, his gaze blazing as you tasted him. “But I suppose I’ll permit it.”
“It is salty,” you murmured, almost absentmindedly.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, are you women incapable of discussing anything besides my cock?” he exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone.
You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension dissipating as he cleaned his fingers with his tongue before tenderly cradling the back of your head, drawing you to sit upon his lap. Your laughter softened into chuckles, a smile playing upon your lips.
“Did I please you, my Lo—”
“Ryomen,” he interrupted firmly. “Only you may address me by my given name.”
“My L—”
“I command it.” His tone left no room for argument.
You affirmed your agreement with a nod, the name Ryomen echoing through your mind. Sukuna had been your private moniker for him, but now, in this intimate exchange, he was Ryomen. Your Ryomen. Maybe one day, you would shorten it to Ryo.
“Very well, Ryomen.” You felt a subtle shift in the air between you. His chuckle rumbled softly. “Shall I turn around for you?”
“And why do you deem such an unnecessary act necessary?”
“Because—” You suppressed the urge to divulge the whispers of the other concubines regarding his favoured position. “Never mind. How would you prefer me to present myself to you?”
“As you are,” Ryomen answered, his grip tightening around himself. “How you managed to have me spend by your hand in under five minutes is a marvel beyond my comprehension.”
Internally, you gave yourself a congratulatory pat on the back.
“Now, my love,” he said, inclining his chin towards his erection, “will you do my cock the honour of sitting on it?”
Licking the grin of your lips, you nodded, rising to your knees. With nimble fingers, you positioned his hardened length at your entrance, gradually lowering yourself onto him.
A sharp intake of breath escaped Sukuna’s lips, his hands instinctively grasping your hips. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, enduring the initial sting of penetration. Perhaps every touch of his fingers had been a meticulous groundwork for this pinnacle moment.
As you settled into your seat upon him, you granted yourself a minute to acclimate to the sheer magnitude of him stretching and filling your tight, supple walls.
Sukuna tilted his head back, impatience evident in his eyes. “Will you begin moving at a pace befitting this century, Sad Eyes?”
“Just a moment,” you retorted, your tone tinged with defiance.
“Unfortunately, the sight of your leaking cunt is testing my patience,” he remarked, his gaze lingering provocatively on your flushed form.
Collecting yourself, you affirmed your resolve with a nod before subtly adjusting your position, and swaying your hips forward. His strong hands guided you, aiding your movements as you sought a rhythm. “Gods, you’re—you’re quite large. It’s rather discomforting.”
“Ah, where has the enthusiasm to please your lord vanished, my love?” His laughter echoes through the chamber as he leaned back, amused by your scowl. “I must confess, your defiance is perhaps your most alluring trait. It has crossed my mind more than once during moments of handling myself in the bath.”
Your brow furrowed in dismay.
It was evident that the other concubines possessed far greater expertise in pleasuring him than you ever could. All you could manage was to feign enthusiasm, your movements faltering and disjointed, as you struggled to produce even a fraction of the satisfaction they effortlessly blessed him with. His laughter, which wasn’t helping your cause, bore an uncanny resemblance to the mocking tones of the girls who had taunted you in the past.
You no longer wished to endure this charade.
You halted in your tracks, unable to muster the courage to meet his gaze, your eyes fixated instead on his throat. “It appears . . . that I may not be adequately versed in fulfilling your needs. I shall endeavour to educate myself further before making another attempt. For now, I request permission to retire for the evening, my Lord.”
Sukuna’s grip tightened as he seized your jaw, compelling you to meet his gaze. “You dare to defy my command to address me by my given name?” His smile remained wicked as he drew your face closer to his own. “Remember, my love, there is a boundary to which I tolerate your rebellion. Do not allow my affections to cloud your judgement. I remain your Lord, above all else. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” you managed to gasp out.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, Ryomen,” you replied, your voice trembling with uncertainty.
With a swift motion, he released your sore jaw, and before you could even consider easing the ache, his lips crashed against yours.
In that moment, control slipped from your grasp entirely. His hands gripped the flesh of your buttocks possessively, guiding your movements as he claimed you with a primal savageness that left you shaking in his embrace.
“Does it pain you, my beloved?” Sukuna growled, his fingers curling around your nape possessively. “Do you feel the strain of my cock as I breach your tender walls?”
You whimpered softly, your head nodding against the curve of his neck.
“Fear not, my darling. I will diligently train this cunt of yours to accommodate every inch of me, dusk, dawn, and twilight. Your throat, too, shall be honed to fulfil my every whim, wherever and whenever I demand.” With a swift motion, he tugged your hair, forcing you to meet his glare. “And should you dare to entertain thoughts of defiance with any other man beyond the confines of my chamber, rest assured, there will be consequences.”
“Ryomen,” was all you gasped, eyes rolling back as his tip probed the depths of your womb. His tongue traced the delicate curve of your throat before shoving into your mouth, drawing out your own to suckle on. In the heat of the moment, your hands roamed aimlessly, torn between grasping at his waist, clutching his shoulders, or caressing his cheeks.
“Oh, how I love the sight of your breasts greeting me in my face.” Sukuna tightened his hold on each of them with a deadly grasp, savouring the melodious cry that escaped your lips. He lowered his head and teethed each nipple, drawing it out and relishing in the masochism of your sharp nails clawing down his back. “Deeper, my darling. You alone hold the privilege of marking my flesh. Let my scars mirror yours.”
With caution, you shifted your hands to rest upon his firm pectoral muscles before you could accidentally claw out his spinal cord.
Sukuna’s touch drifted from your bruised breasts to cradle your face, guiding your gaze to meet his crimson one.
Encouraged by his comforting presence, you arched your hips forward with newfound confidence. His fingers swept through your hair, pushing it away as he offered reassuring nods.
Now, the reins rested firmly within your grasp.
“Fuck . . .” Leaning back against the headboard, he released soft sighs. Warm breaths escaped his parted lips as you continued increasing your ministrations. Your gaze momentarily flickered to your favourite book resting on his bedside table before returning to his face.
Suddenly seized by an impulse, you leaned forward to plant a tender kiss upon his lips, trailing upward to gently brush against his cheekbones, tracing the intricate markings lining his skin.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Someone must play the role of the tender one between us, Ryomen,” you answered, mirroring the attention he had given your scars during your initial encounter. With each kiss, you felt his eyes tracing your movements, following the path of your lips as they journeyed across his face, landing upon his nose or the pulse of his neck.
“My beloved,” Sukuna’s voice caressed your ears, drawing your focus entirely to him, “listen closely to my words.”
You halted your movements, a curious expression dancing in your eyes. “What troubles you?”
With a deliberate motion, he guided your hips forward, his gaze unwavering. “Throughout the night, I will fill your womb ceaselessly, and in mere weeks, you shall carry my legacy within you.” Your heart leaped into your throat, fluttering with an overwhelming rush of emotion. “Peril will shadow your every step. Those who oppose us will stop at nothing to eliminate your life and the life of our child. Do you comprehend the gravity of our situation?”
You blinked back the tears, resigning yourself to the inevitable.
“But I vow upon my honour, such an atrocity shall never come to pass. I will sever entire bloodlines if even a single strand of your precious hair were harmed.” His movements quickened as he thrusted into you.
Your grip tightened on his shoulders again, gasping for breath between erratic pants.
“At dawn’s light, all concubines shall be reassigned to palace duties. You need only point out those who have dared to trouble you, though their transgressions are already known to me.” His motions became more intense as he pressed you onto your back, pinning your arms above your head. “And when the sun graces the horizon, you, my beloved, shall be proclaimed as my queen.”
Your voice wailed through the chamber as you cried out his name, drowning in the waves of scorching pleasure never before experienced.
Instead of seeing celestial bodies colliding, your gaze met the deep crimson of his irises, those same eyes that had captivated you on that very first night.
“Ryomen . . . ”
With a smile mirroring his own, you tilted your head upward, silently beckoning him to seal the moment with a kiss. As he obliged, his cock pulsed within you, filling you with his warmth until every fibre of your being was tethered with his.
But he didn’t withdraw. Just as he had promised, he intended to keep you close throughout the night, to claim you as his own.
And in that moment, as you laid with him, you welcomed the dawn of a new chapter standing beside him, prepared to reign as Sukuna Ryomen’s queen.
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meiieiri · 2 days
Text
𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 [toji fushiguro]
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synopsis: in which toji hears the words “happy birthday” for the first time.
pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | song inspo: cliché | visuals: keychain | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist
warnings: brief mentions of physical and emotional abuse (toji’s painful past, really, i just wanna give him a big hug). inspired by the works of @/ddub1618 on twt!
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He could get in trouble for this, now, normally, he doesn’t sneak out of training but Toji’s curiosity got the better of him this time. Being one of the taller kids, he stays close to the ground so his hair doesn’t stick up from the bushes. He holds his wooden katana close, peeking when he hears delighted laughter coming from the engawa of the estate, a sound that’s a little rare here in the Zenin estate.
“Happy birthday!”
Toji’s breath hitches in his throat when he hears the happy giggles of one of his younger cousins, and he stealthily sneaks over to a tree that’s just a few feet from one of the estate’s buildings, hiding behind the trunk, peeking from time to time to see what’s going on. He watches with a glittery look in his eyes when his aunt presents his third or fourth cousin, Toji doesn’t really know at this point, with a gift box, happily urging the little one to open it.
A thousand thoughts were running through his head as he inquisitively watched the toddler open their presents and have some of the sweet colorful mochi his parents must have requested from the estate kitchens for this special day. The sweet smell of osekihan lingered in the air, and Toji’s stomach growls at the decadent aroma of the slow-cooked red bean rice. He doesn’t get to have sweets often, so he is left wondering if his parents would allow such a thing for him on his own birthday.
“Toji, what are you doing here?”
Toji stiffens at the sound of his older brother’s voice. “Shh, I’m trying to watch.” He says, pressing an index finger to his lips, making a shushing sound. “Look there.”
Jinichi momentarily places his hands over his hips, indulging his younger brother. “It’s just a birthday. What’s so special about it?”
The younger Zenin huffs at the arid response. “I’ve never had one of those before.”
Toji looks down at the broken fingernails on his hands, worn out from the grueling training regimen today, he imagines what it would be like to hold a present and not sharp edged rocks for once. He can only imagine the excitement he’d feel as he slowly pulls the green gift wrapper off the box, being extra careful with it because it looked too pretty and expensive to haphazardly tear apart. As for the tooth-rotting mochi he’ll be receiving, he’ll do his best to only eat tiny pieces of it at a time, making sure to leave some of the sweet treat for later because who knows when he’ll ever get to eat such a luxury again?
“Say, why don’t I get a birthday? It’s always just you getting one every year.”
Jinichi rolls his eyes. “Everyone has a birthday, dimwit. But not everyone celebrates their birthday.” Toji scowls in displeasure at that, his bottom lip curling up in a pout. At his brother’s petulant silence, Jinichi taps out of the conversation, turning on his heel to go back to the training grounds. “I’m heading back, I’m not about to catch another beating because I went to go look for you.”
“Go do whatever you want. I’m staying.”
And with that, Toji turns his attention back to the joyous occasion, looking longingly as the little birthday celebrant receives a loving peck on the cheek from his mother. He doesn’t even notice the familiar ache in his heart that accompanied how his fingers touched his cheek longing for the day his own mother does that for him.
In a perfect world, all children are wanted; they’d have warm beds to snuggle in at night in place of a rundown storehouse’s cold hardwood floor, their cheeks would be showered with kisses and not harsh slaps, they’d be lulled to sleep by warm lullabies and not the sound of their parents arguing why their child turned out this way like they’re some factory defect, they’d be given toys and not weapons that they need to master.
In a perfect world, Toji would have spent his sixth birthday with a plate of nerikiri in front of him and not some random rocks he found in the garden and lined up in a neat row to make it resemble the white bean dessert. He’d be surrounded by the people he so painfully loves and not the sympathetic ants that crawled on the grass in a tucked away corner of the Zenin estate’s compound on the day he was born into this world.
In a perfect world, Toji wouldn’t have to sing himself a ‘happy birthday’ because no one else ever cared to do it for him.
“Happy birthday, Toji…”
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“Toji!”
He must have been zoning out. You told him to meet you outside Shinjuku station today for your date and he doesn’t really know how long he’s been sitting in the waiting area, but it must have been long enough for his mind to wander to the agonizing recollections of his childhood. Toji looks up to see you hurrying to tap your train card on the turnstile with a tired smile that’s pretty hard to miss.
Toji stands up to meet you halfway and you giggle, launching yourself in his arms. Toji loves it when you do that, it shows how you trust him completely that in any and every given second, he’ll always catch you. Burying his face in your hair, he inhales the floral smell of your shampoo, the haze in his mind dissipating ever so slightly.
He frowns when you’re the first to pull away and he opens his mouth to whine about it, but he instantly drops it when he sees you holding up a little gift-wrapped box in front of him. Toji blinks. “This for me?” He almost couldn’t believe it. “You actually remembered?”
You’ve been casually pretending this entire week that you didn’t know what was coming up because you’ve been trying to keep your little surprise low-key until today. Nodding, you kiss the scar on his lips.
“Of course I did! That’s why I was late, I was looking for some…uh…well, never mind! Just open it!” You tap your toe against the floor shyly as his fingers nimbly and painstakingly unwrap the present.
As if he had stepped into a time machine, Toji pictures himself back in the Zenin estate, his knees pulled to his chest as he celebrates his birthday alone, a solitary tear streaming down his face. Except something’s different like the time-space continuum hit a snag or something. The difference being a miniature version of you, smiling adoringly at him, as you plop down next to him on the dirt ground, not caring if your little dress got soiled. In his hands, in this version of events gone by, is a half-opened present wrapped in a beautiful blue gift paper.
Oh, how it would have been nice had that been the case all those years ago when your gentle hands would cup both his cheeks, your thumbs gently rubbing his bruised cheeks. How you would have brightened his days with your warm sunshine.
After what seems like an eternity of gazing into your orbs, seeing his modified past play like a montage from the light reflecting off your eyes, Toji opens the gift and he picks up a crocheted keychain, his index finger flicking the metal hook.
“A frog.”
You chortle as he points out the obvious. “It was the easiest thing to crochet,” you said defensively. “I was late today because I was looking for these,” you point to the black beads serving as the little frog’s cute eyes.
“There’s a…” Toji trails off, his voice wavering. You know what he’s talking about, so you take his bigger hand in your delicate ones. The two of you gazing at your little masterpiece.
“Sorry, I kinda ripped it when I pulled the yarn a little too hard. Guess I was getting sleepy.” You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly. “Then, I kinda ran out of green yarn to fix it, so, I had to improvise. I’m sorry if it seems a little offensive—“
Toji cuts you off with an abrupt kiss, not caring if the two of you were attracting a crowd of commuters as the two of you kiss in the middle of a crowded train station. “It’s not half-bad, squirt. Don’t worry.” He ruffles your hair, eagerly suppressing his smile as he looks at the frog keychain that’s meant to resemble him with the tiny pink scar you knit on the corner of the frog’s smiley lips.
Your heart practically leaps out of your chest and you nudge him gently as he continues to stare at the keychain. “Don’t lose it now.”
“You kidding? I’m putting this in a damn safe.”
The two of you share a laugh at that, your fingers interlacing with one another as your lips brush against each other once more.
“Happy birthday, Toji.”
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rrairey · 1 day
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"when you look at the stars, do you see me?"
"what?"
turning to you with a hidden look of confusion on his pretty face, sukuna watches as you turn towards him with your other hand gesturing to the sky.
"when you look at the stars, do you see me?"
he looked at the stars.
"....no."
"oh."
"why?"
gazing at the stars, you felt a peaceful, almost calm silence pass over the two of you. Just you and him, him and you, staring at the beautiful sky.
"i thought you said i was the prettiest thing in the world.
sukuna scoffed and turned to look at you, his red eyes roving over your face, savouring the little pout now on your lips.
he leaned forward and with one large hand, he tilted your chin up so that you could look at him directly in the eyes.
"you are the prettiest thing in the world."
"but what about the stars? they're pretty too."
he hummed, before leaning down to steal your lips with his, relishing the sweet taste of your lips. No matter how many kisses you press to his wicked lips, or how many he steals from you, he always craves the feel of your mouth against his.
"No. I already told you, you are the prettiest thing in the world."
"Prettier than the stars themselves?"
He paused, smirking as he caught your hand firmly after feeling a small smack on his chest, before locking eyes with you.
"prettier than the stars themselves."
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poksmimi · 1 day
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OPEN WIDE FOR ME, DARLIN' !
♪contains; your favs x afab!reader, reader has a pussy and breasts but uses no pronouns, fingering, clit rubbing, squirting, nipple play, chest play
♪notes; yum, yum?
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his hand rests on your chest, fondling the squishy blob on your chest, his fingers going over your nipples, fonding the small nubs in your tits. "Aren't ya just the precious thing ever?" He says, whispering in your ear, his breath tickling your ear, your face darkens and you let out a soft moan. His finger lays on your nipple, and his other hand goes down to your wetness between your legs, his fingers massaging the damp spot on your panties, pushing on your clit and you bite your bottom lip. Your eyes stay closed as he moves your panties to the side, your wet cunt out to show, he fingers go up to your opening, sticking one of his fingers in, moving his digit around your wet warmth pussy, he sticks another finger in your cunt, his hand slowly gets covered in your sweet juices, your nectar covering his digits and his palm, your hands grip at his thighs, rolling your hips to match his fingering. Your head lays back and you moan, your eyes staying closed as your mouth is wide open, he smirks and blows on your ear. You squeal and your toes curl, you can feel your cunt squeezing his digits, his hand on your tit begins to move once again, groping at the flesh, playing with your nipple which makes you even more wet. The smell of your pleasure, you can hear your heart racing and his soft breaths on your ear and you can see his fingers disappearing into your cunt and coming back out, you can taste your own saliva. Your mouth is still open and your drool comes out, your eyes roll back when his thumb pushes down on your clit. "Ga-Mfh!" You moan out. "A-Ahfh~ 'm! Please, keep going!" You scream, thrusting your hips to his hand, frantically, he smirks and kisses your shoulders. He rubs your clit, his thumb going over the nub quickly, fingering you so much faster than before, your back arches as you go more einot the touch, he takes out his fingers and his palm spanks your pussy before running your clit, your cunt squirts, spraying your juices onto the bedsheets and the ground, you scream and lay back down, your chest going up and down, he lifts you up, and you lazily move against him. You can feel his hard dick against your bare skin, you moan and he kisses your ear. "Don't worry, darlin', 'm going to make sure this will last until ya pass out, baby~" he lifts you up and his hard cock touches your entrance. Your wetness dripping over his dick, he smirks and you know that this will last until you pass out. His fingers touch your mouth and you open your mouth, he slips his fingers in you mouth, you moan at the taste, you can taste your own nectar on his fingers, you suck on it. He grins and brings his wet fingers down to his dick and rubs it over his dick, using it as lube. He smirks at you and you know, it's finally time to begin. His dick goes into your pussy and you let out a troubled moan, you an feel his hardness in you, your pussy clenches around it, you bounce and he chuckles, holding your hips and helps you to move, moving you up and down on his dick, he leans back and groans, your pussy is sensitive, you ride harder. "Fuck! Baby, ya so tight." His hips go faster, thrusting into your wet cunt, he can feel himself about to climax already, he grits his teeth and goes faster, nails digging into your skin, your eyes roll back and you both making clapping noises, your legs hurt and he pushes you down with a huge harsh thrust, you come again, writing his dick and his abdomen, his dick spurts out, pairing your cunt walls white with his semen, you moan and his dick becomes hard once again. Oh boy, this surely will last as he says.
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sugarrnaomii · 3 days
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˗ˏˋ𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒´ˎ˗
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ in which best friend gojo is just the sweetest for his favorite girl <3
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bestfriendgojo!who loves opening the door for you at any giving time. literally will not let you open the door for yourself. “that’s my job” he states as he carefully opens the door and examines you up and down as you walk in , while he smirks slightly to himself.
bestfriendgojo!who loves teasing you about how short you are “your so short, i can just pound you” literally loves when you look up at him with those beautiful big doe eyes it has a huge effect on him.
bestfriendgojo!who loves when you put his hands on him, one small touch you make on him and he’s already hard for you. literally only wants your hands to be touching him all the time. poor boy is so touch deprived for you </3
bestfriendgojo!who loves when you ask him specifically for help. can’t reach something on the shelf? that’s okay you just have to tell him and he’ll help you. it just makes him feel so good the way he can help you, and how you only go up to him for help.
bestfriendgojo!who loves whispering in your ear at random times he just loves the way you get so worked up by his voice hitting your neck slightly sending those tingles down to your neck, makes him smirk all the time.
bestfriendgojo!who is a freak for when you wear miniskirts , he just loves how he can see your cute pink lace underwear showing from underneath, he can’t help but get hard at the thought of seeing them. course he has to compliment them always “new skirt? looks good on you.” he says as he examines it slightly biting his lip.
bestfriendgojo!who loves when you get your nails done. he loves how he’s always the first one to see them to. he just loves the thought of them wrapped around his hard dick stroking his dick faster and faster each time. fuck the things he would do to have your pretty hands on his dick.
𝗮/𝗻: my first oneshot ever , i hope you all enjoy it 😭!! <3
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noirflms · 21 hours
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I WANT TO WHERE HIS INITIAL ( ON A CHAIN ‘ROUND MY NECK, CHAIN ‘ROUND MY NECK ) — jjk men
when you surprise him with his initial on a chain wrapped around your neck. or when the jjk men’s eyes catch sight of their initial looking so pretty wrapped around your neck.
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— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ GOJO SATORU !
he is quick to catch onto the new accessory wrapped around your neck, glistening when the light falls on it, shining on his eyes whenever you turn in a direction that makes light reflect off of it. gojo satoru sees the words ‘S’ sitting so prettily upon your skin, the gold pressed flush as you smile as you serve him with his dinner, but you notice his eyes linger right between you collarbones and looks like your idea worked, as you smirk goes unnoticed by him.
“i knew it. my initial would look so good wrapped around your neck.” he grins proudly, taking the bite of his food as you laugh, “but i think my surname behind your name would be so much better.” and it was done, he will and forever be far ahead of you as you shake your head flustered at his sentence as he smirks and what he says next has you going red.
“it would be nice to see it hanging as i take you from the—”
“SATORU!”
yeah, that was it. it was all the fun you’ll let him have. as you cover your face while trying to tell him to let you eat in peace.
— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ GETO SUGURU !
he had seen you planning something with gojo and shoko, whispering amongst each other from far away and high fiving one another and shouting out loud. and now that he notices his initials hanging from a chain round you neck, it just does something to him. it makes him go a bit derek on the inside – it makes him go derek with the thought that you belong to him. geto takes a shaky breath as he finds not in him to be able to bear it as he becomes flustered and the tips of his ears go read.
“do you like it, suguru?” you ask innocently blinking at him, oh gosh, you literally have him wreathing under your gaze as he shifts in his chair, face covered with his hands as his eyes are set on the pendant around your neck. “i like it, don’t you?” and he lets out a shaky breath, hands wiping away at his face as he finally looks into your eyes and a lovestruck gaze makes you have butterflies swarming in your stomach.
“it looks so good, princess.” he rasps and you smile. “s-so, um, what if i also wore your initials?” you look at him and he’s suddenly pulling a chain out from his uniform with your initials on it and you almost jump at him – you did – hands wrapping around his neck as he laughs.
ah, such sweet thing love is.
— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ NANAMI KENTO !
he saw it even before you could have put it around your neck. it was during him going through a serious cleaning session around the house, when he stumbled across the box which had suddenly toppled down form the book shelf of yours and he knows not to pry but he keeps track of what he gets you and this box – he had not got that thing for you at all so who was it?
and so he had opened it and closed it as fast as he could. a chuckle escapes his lips, gosh, you make him so insane about you. and today, when nanami saw you wearing it in the morning, he smiled, the biggest in a while. he sees the ‘K’ sitting so elegantly as the chains wrapped around your neck, letting the word sit right between your collarbones.
“that’s new.” he pries, but he already knew, he just likes seeing you ramble about it. “oh! you like it, ken’?” you question with the sweet smile of yours, eyes sparkling as you stared at him, and he softens as usual and you begin to speak again, “i bought it so i’ll have something telling me you’re there with me, all the time.” and you look at him holding onto the initial, and he knows you’re the one.
and if only life was a bit merciful he would have given you the ring sitting in his pocket, but looks like the gods didn’t want you waiting on such a poised man.
“yuuji…tell her that i’ll always be there.”
— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ CHOSO !
he is stunned actually. gosh, you look so good with the chain wrapped around your neck. damn, you are just so pretty for this world. you see him eyeing it, eyes wide as he takes the sight of the accessory in. you almost laugh at his reaction but you were expecting it, but you like the way his face soon morphs into one of embarrassment.
“you like it, baby?” you hum as you intertwine your fingers with his. “now everyone will know i know you better.” he grins in victory, “and it will give a sign that you belong to me.” he laughs like a school girl as you shake your head, such a child you handle. choso presses a kiss to the pendant as you laugh when he sighs against your skin.
“now no one will ever look at you.” he grumbles thinking of the many men he had to glare at when they looked at you, his arms wrapping around your torso tightly. “this. will tell everyone you’re mine.” and you only laugh loudly pulling at his cheeks.
gosh, he really is just a baby.
— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ FUSHIGURO TOJI !
“did you steal that?” it was his first thought. toji is broke, spends his earning on food on a daily basis. so, there is no way there is anyway in the world you could get that gold chain wrapped around your neck that you flaunt at him. you smack his arms as you glare at him, wondering if he forgets you own quite the brand and bougie stuff.
“i bought it.” you state, pulling at his ear as he only looks at it and then back at you. “with my own money.” oh, and his eyes finally fill with realisation that he no more is broke you just give him a particular amount to spend, because you sure are loaded. toji finally takes a better look at it and sees the letter ‘T’ sitting and looking so pretty around your neck, the gold shining like the brightest star in the sky.
“i thought you’d be one for silver.” he says pulling at it softly, tugging and tracing the letter with his calloused fingers. “now you look like i owe you, puppy.” he smirks as you glare at him, but you let him enjoy the moment. “i like it. it will be in my mind, yer all mine.”
you are married to a fool. and you have knows that, but you smile as you see him smile softly when his eyes catch sight of megumi and tsumiki running over to the both of you.
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um 😭😭 okay bye, taylor planted the idea but the words are all mine.
NOIRFLMS 2024 ! all rights reserved - plagiarism is a crime , do not translate my works without permission.
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fluffymiyaa · 3 days
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Waste The Night
Painting!Gojo x Painter!reader x Painting!Geto
Summary: In a haunting twist of fate, your tragic painting suddenly springs to life, its sorrowful characters and somber scenes manifesting before your eyes.
Tw: slight possessive
2
Masterlist Main Masterlist
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In the midst of your peaceful slumber, you were unaware of the world around you, lost in the blissful embrace of sleep. Your hair was tousled, and a soft snore escaped your lips, accompanied by a small drool that trickled down your chin.
Suddenly, a persistent poking on your cheek disturbed your rest, prompting a furrowed brow of annoyance.
"Y/n...? Wakey wakey..." Satoru's voice called out, but you remained oblivious, turning away from him and inadvertently facing Suguru, who was sharing the bed with you both.
Unbeknownst to you, your drool had become an unwelcome intruder in Suguru's personal space. "Ugh... your drool's wetting my hair!" he complained, his voice laced with disgust.
Startled awake by his words, you blinked groggily, finally registering the presence of both Satoru and Suguru beside you. With a flush of embarrassment, you quickly wiped away the drool, realizing that you had forgotten about the previous night's arrangement to share the bed.
"Sorry about that, Suguru," you mumbled sheepishly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement at the unexpected wake-up call.
In the soft glow of the early morning, the clock displayed 7 am, much earlier than your usual waking hour. You blinked away the remnants of sleep, trying to make sense of the voices that had stirred you from your sleep.
"I woke you up because I wanted to hear your voice before I'm gone" Satoru's voice broke through the quietude
"You're not dead, Satoru. We can come back tonight," Suguru's response was sharp, his irritation evident.
Satoru's smirk only grew wider at Suguru's retort.
"Oh? 'We'?" he teased, his eyes dancing with mischief.
"Of course. It's not like I want to. When you leave, the paint will pull me out too," Suguru's reply.
"Yeah, you're not even trying to stop me," Satoru remarked, his tone light but pointed.
"Like you would listen?" Suguru shot back, a defiant glint in his eyes.
"Like you ever listen?" Satoru shot back again.
As you observed the exchange, it dawned on you—the truth of their existence. Suguru and Satoru were paintings, but they had the uncanny ability to become real, if only for a while. The thought brought a mix of wonder and intrigue to your mind.
Ah... what a noisy morning
You thought to yourself, marveling at the extraordinary companionship you shared with these painted beings who had become so much more.
As the ringtone shattered the morning calm, you hurriedly scrambled out of bed to answer your phone, leaving Suguru and Satoru staring after you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. With trembling fingers, you answered the call, your voice betraying your grogginess.
"H-hello?"
"Y/n? Did you just wake up? It's 7 am. You should wake up earlier. Don't forget you need to finish the painting! I don't want to know how, but you must finish it by tomorrow." your manager's voice crackled through the line, a sense of urgency palpable in his tone.
"A-ah.. yeah.. it's done," you stammered, trying to sound confident despite the unease creeping into your voice.
"Really? Send me the picture, now." his demand was firm, leaving no room for argument.
You glanced nervously at Suguru and Satoru, feeling their gaze boring into you with an unsettling intensity. The atmosphere in the room suddenly felt tense, as if something unspoken hung between you all, thick and suffocating.
"I... I will send it tonight... it's almost finished... just a little bit more," you replied hastily, eager to end the call and escape the weight of their stares.
"Tch, fine. I'll call you later, don't forget to send it if you still want this job." your manager huffed before abruptly hanging up.
As you lowered the phone, a sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach. Something was off, and you couldn't shake the feeling that Suguru and Satoru knew more than they let on.
"Who's that?"
As Satoru reached for your phone, his sudden movement caught you off guard, causing you to startle.
"E-eh? My manager," you stammered, attempting to retrieve your phone, but Satoru's firm grasp prevented you from doing so. With a gentle but insistent motion, he placed it in the drawer nearby, his actions making your heart race.
"Why is he talking to you like that?" Satoru's voice was gentle, yet there was a subtle edge to it, as if he sensed something amiss.
You struggled to find an explanation, your mind racing to justify the situation.
"Well... he's just, you know, that's just how he is. I mean, it's my fault. I should have finished up earlier" you replied, the words tumbling out hastily in an attempt to ease the tension.
Meanwhile, Suguru remained silent, his grip on his yukata tightening as he struggled to contain his emotions. Finally, he spoke up .
"Did he know you broke the brush?"
"N-no, I'm scared he—" you began, but Suguru cut you off with a firm insistence.
"That he what?" he urged, his words sending another wave of apprehension through you.
Your body trembled slightly as uncertainty gnawed at your insides.
What was happening? Why were they acting so strangely all of a sudden?
"Are you guys alright?" you asked, a note of concern creeping into your voice as you looked between them for answers.
They didn't answer, instead, Satoru's grip on your hand tightened, their silence speaking volumes.
"Is he bothering you, Y/n?" Satoru's voice held a protective edge.
"What? No! He's my manager..." you trailed off, the unease in the room becoming palpable as you struggled to make sense of their unusual behavior.
As Suguru pushed his hair back and deftly tied it into a bun, he strode purposefully towards you, his presence commanding attention.
"Aren't you supposed to make breakfast?" he inquired, his tone matter-of-fact but tinged with a hint of urgency.
"Oh! You're right!" you exclaimed, a sudden realization dawning upon you. With a hurried nod, you dashed downstairs to the kitchen, leaving Satoru and Suguru behind in your room.
Suguru walked forward Satoru. His face right infront of him.
"Calm down, Satoru. You're a grown man," Suguru's voice cut through the tension, his words carrying a soothing undertone.
"Do you feel it too, Suguru?" Satoru's voice turned cold, the edges of his words sharp.
For a moment, Suguru remained silent, his expression unreadable. Then, with a decisive nod, he walked towards the door, his demeanor composed yet resolute.
"She's the one who created us, after all" Suguru's response hung heavy in the air, laden with implications that left Satoru unsettled.
As Suguru left the room, a sense of unease lingered, the weight of his words echoing in the silence.
What did it all mean? And what role did you play in their existence? The questions swirled in their mind.
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As the three of you sat in silence, the tension in the air grew thicker, even Satoru, usually the chatterbox, remained uncharacteristically quiet. The awkwardness weighed heavily on you, making you squirm uncomfortably in your seat.
"Hey... it's almost 8, don't you guys need to go back?" you interjected, breaking the suffocating silence.
Suguru was the first to stand, shooting a meaningful glance at Satoru, silently conveying the need to depart. Satoru followed suit, his movements slow and hesitant.
"Thank you... for the meal," Satoru murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
You offered him a warm smile, appreciative of the fleeting moment of connection amidst the awkwardness. "You're wel—"
"Can I hug you? Before I leave," Satoru's request caught you off guard, but you couldn't help but chuckle at his earnestness.
"You were hugging me all night, Satoru... but yes, come here," you replied with a gentle laugh, opening your arms to him.
Satoru enveloped you in a tight embrace, his tall frame towering over you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply at your smell. The gesture was oddly intimate, yet comforting in its familiarity.
As Satoru reluctantly released you, Suguru remained silent, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turned and made his way upstairs to your studio, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen.
Satoru gently took your hand, silently urging you to follow him back to your studio. As you entered the room, Suguru approached the painting with a sense of reverence, his fingers delicately tracing the lines of the canvas. Suddenly, a soft glow emanated from the paint, casting a mesmerizing light across the room.
You watched in awe as Suguru's entire being seemed to dissolve into the painting, disappearing into the vibrant colors and swirling textures.
Just as you marveled at Suguru's transformation, you felt Satoru's hand squeeze yours, his touch grounding you in the moment. With a silent understanding, he too stepped forward, his form merging with Suguru's within the painting.
As you watched them disappear into the vibrant world within the canvas, a sense of awe and excitement filled you.
"I'll see you guys again tonight"
Feeling adrift and unsure of what to do with your newfound freedom, you realized just how long it had been since you last ventured outside for a leisurely walk, spent time hanging out with friends, or even enjoyed a simple shopping trip.
With a sigh, you resolved to break free from the monotony of your routine. Taking a shower and getting dressed felt like a small step towards reclaiming a sense of normalcy in your life, a way to shake off the stagnation that had settled over you in Suguru and Satoru's absence.
As the warm water cascaded over you, washing away the remnants of sleep and uncertainty, you felt a renewed sense of purpose begin to stir within you. Dressing in fresh clothes, you emerged from your home with a newfound determination, ready to seize the day and rediscover the simple joys that life had to offer.
Standing at the bus stop, you contemplated your options, the possibilities stretching out before you like an open road waiting to be explored. It was time to embrace the spontaneity of the moment, to step outside your comfort zone and embrace the unknown.
With a sense of anticipation building within you, you boarded the bus, the promise of adventure and discovery beckoning you forward. As the bus rumbled along its route, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up inside you, eager to see where the day would take you.
Where should i go? Mmhm..mall?
With a decisive nod, you made up your mind. The mall it was. As you boarded the bus, a sense of anticipation bubbled within you, eager to rediscover the simple joys of exploring new surroundings and immersing yourself in the hustle and bustle of city life.
Excitement bubbled up within you as you stepped into the bustling mall, the vibrant atmosphere filling you with a sense of exhilaration. With a skip in your step, you made a beeline for your favorite stores, the allure of shopping beckoning you irresistibly.
As you perused the racks and shelves, you couldn't help but feel a surge of indulgence wash over you. Maybe you were being a tad extravagant, but today was about treating yourself, about embracing the joy of spontaneity and indulging in the things that brought you happiness. After all, you reasoned, you deserved it.
With bags in hand and a satisfied smile on your face, you made your way to a cozy ramen restaurant for lunch. Sitting alone, you couldn't shake the twinge of loneliness that tugged at your heartstrings. But instead of dwelling on it, you decided to channel that longing into something positive. You ordered extra ramen to go, a gesture of kindness for Suguru and Satoru for their dinner, a way to include them in your day even in their absence.
After savoring every last slurp of your delicious meal, you resumed your leisurely stroll through the mall, your eyes lighting up as you passed a charming bakery shop. Unable to resist the temptation, you stepped inside and found yourself captivated by the array of cute and colorful cakes on display. Without hesitation, you selected a few to take home, the promise of sweet indulgence adding an extra spring to your step as you continued your shopping adventure.
As the clock struck 6 pm, signaling the end of your exhilarating day at the mall, you gathered your bags and made your way back to the bus stop, a contented smile gracing your lips. Despite the exhaustion weighing on your body and the slight soreness in your hands from carrying so many bags, you couldn't help but feel a sense of fulfillment wash over you.
Arriving home, you took a moment to bask in the quiet comfort of your surroundings before setting to work preparing dinner. The aroma of simmering broth filled the air as you lovingly plated the ramen, setting aside a portion for Suguru and Satoru, a silent invitation for them to join you in the warmth of your home.
With the ramen ready and waiting, you carefully stored the cakes in the fridge, saving them for later. As you settled onto the sofa, the soft glow of the TV casting a warm light across the room, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within you.
As you anxiously watched the clock, the minutes ticked by agonizingly slow. When it finally read 8:25, worry crept into your mind as you wondered why Suguru and Satoru hadn't returned yet. Just as your concern began to mount, the sound of aggressive footsteps caught your attention, and you turned to see Satoru rushing towards you with an infectious energy.
"Y/n!! I missed you!" he exclaimed, enveloping you in a tight hug from behind, his presence instantly dispelling any lingering unease.
Relief flooded through you as you returned his embrace, grateful for his sudden appearance. But as you glanced towards the stairs, you noticed Suguru descending slowly, his gaze fixed on you with a quiet intensity that spoke volumes.
With a nod of acknowledgment, Suguru settled beside you on the sofa, his presence a calming presence beside you.
"How was your day..." he began, his voice trailing off as he waited for your response, his eyes searching yours for any hint of emotion.
The unexpected question from Suguru left you momentarily taken aback, your mind reeling with surprise. Was this the same Suguru who had greeted you with icy detachment, referring to you as nothing more than a monkey?
Before you could dwell on it further, Satoru's cheerful interruption broke the tension, his infectious energy drawing a giggle from your lips.
"Yes, yes! What were you doing while we were gone?" he chimed in eagerly, diverting the conversation to more lighthearted topics.
"I'll tell you guys. Now cmon i prepared you dinner." They follow you to table.
"Ramen? Mhmmm smell good. Thank u y/n!" Satoru's delighted exclamation at the aroma of the dish brought a warmth to your heart, while Suguru's quiet acknowledgment with an "Itadakimasu" spoke volumes in its simplicity.
"Now that you guys asked how I'm doing, well, I went to the mall!" you exclaimed with a grin, excitement bubbling in your voice. "I bought a ton of clothes and accessories, hehe."
"Really? I'm so glad you enjoyed your day! I can't wait to see you in the new clothes," Satoru chimed in, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness at your revelation.
Suguru nodded in agreement, a faint hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It sounds like you had a great time," he remarked, his tone soft but sincere.
"Oh! I got you guys something!"
You couldn't contain your excitement as you rose from your seat, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. With a playful giggle, you retrieved the cake from the fridge, carefully balancing it in your hands as you returned to the table.
"Tadaaa!" you exclaimed, presenting the cake with a flourish, a wide grin spreading across your face.
Satoru's eyes lit up with delight, his grin mirroring yours as he leaned forward to get a closer look at the sweet treat.
"Wow, you bought us cake too? You're the best, y/n! Omg i really love cake!" he exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious.
Satoru eagerly dug into his slice of cake, his eyes lighting up with delight as he savored each bite. "This is amazing!" he exclaimed between mouthfuls.
Suguru regarded the cake with a subtle nod of approval, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Thank you," he said quietly, his expression betraying a hint of warmth that spoke volumes.
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Satoru opened his eyes, his gaze softening as he beheld your peaceful sleeping face. He resisted the urge to shower you with kisses, opting instead for a tender peck on your forehead. Glancing at Suguru, who stood by the door with a determined expression, Satoru nodded.
"You ready?" Suguru asked, his voice steady and resolute.
Satoru hesitated for a moment before responding, "You sure you're coming with me?" His tone carried a hint of concern.
Suguru grinned in response, his eyes gleaming with determination. "I like hunting monkeys," he replied with a playful smirk.
As they exchanged a knowing look, a sense of unity washed over them, their shared resolve strengthening their bond. With a nod of agreement, they stepped out into the night, ready to face whatever challenges awaited them with courage and determination.
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Where do u guys think gojo and geto go?👀 next chapter would be...🤫
Hope you guys like this chapter, sorry if it's boring! Thanks for the notes, reblogs make me feel more appreaciated<3
Tags: @ceramic-raven @beastofthetrees @r0ckst4rjk @gothiccwhore666
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satoruluvies · 5 hours
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jjk men vs a dry partner
includes: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji and sukuna
requested !
to all my fellow dry texters out there, we are valid lmao
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sandiaarts · 2 days
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I'm trying a new drawing application and this came out, I can say that I liked it a lot, I feel that it is one of the drawings that I liked the most and it makes me feel proud, and it's not even anatomically correct 😭
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Reblogs and comments are appreciated
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sugar-plum-writer · 2 days
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A Heian Era Affair
Parings: GojoSatrou!ModernEra x FemReader!HeianEra! Tags: Fem!Reader; Gojo!imagines; slight!mention of violence; Chaos; 18+ as more chapters come; slow burn [I want to have a good build up~ just like my Sukuna series fic~]; An ancient Japan romance through time with reader A/n: Sorry for not putting out any updates or fics for almost a month! T~T I was busy with college and sem exams! but they are finally over so yay!!!!
[If you all like it, please heart and reblog the post! to know you want to read more~ and follow for chapter updates! or leave a comment to tag you when I put out new chapters~ I will do my best to roll out UPDATES ASAP!]
@elernity @derpykirb here is the update! ^-^
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CHAPTER - 3
The sunlight basked in the small wooden house, the morning dew shimmered as the birds chirped in a lovely tune, a better alarm clock than what Gojo was used to
"Don't wash clothes like that! if you use too much strength it will rip apart!"
"I am trying god damn it!"
Wiping the sweat from his forehead he scrubbed the clothes, you guided him as you sat beside him, your hair tied up in a bun sweating yourself.
"How did humans survive this!?" he groaned
As he and you continued washing the clothes you heard a scream from him
"Ah shit!-", he bit his lip
"Oh lord what happened!?", hurriedly you took his hand and your eyes widened as blood dripped from his wrist
"This is bad wait let me get medicine!"
"Wait-"
Before he could say anything you had already left
"I can use RCT…" he whispered words barely audible as he watched you running
After some seconds he saw you holding a wooden box
"You truly are useless and cannot even wash clothes properly! How can you even call yourself the strongest!?" you nagged him as you cleaned up his wounds and bandaged him up
"Oh sorry I am not used to washing clothes using ancient methods near rivers am I?!", he argued back as the yelling continued
Unknown to you the moment you bandaged him up he had used RCT to heal it within seconds
"Phew that should do it…let's just hope you don't get an infection if you do even I cannot save your life"
Hearing your words he has never been happier to be able to use RCT
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
"Y/n!" a lady rushed screaming your name, causing both you and Gojo to finally stop nagging each other
"Who is she?" he whispered
"Just my neighbor, an aunty my mother knew"
"I see... I guess aunts are the same every era..."
"Oh my god, you did not tell me you got married!?" she yelped as she saw Gojo beside you
"I am not married okay!?" freaking out you tried your best to refuse her words
"What do you mean not married!? oh~ he is your boyfriend~" She nudged you and smirked as she walked towards Gojo who was screaming internally looking at you desperately for help
"He is n-!"
"Greetings! My name is Sumi Tachibana, I am Y/n's neighbor!"
Cutting you off she looked at Gojo smiling brightly
"My name is Gojo Satoru it's nice to meet you too", he smiled putting his hand out to shake her hands
"Oh~ how bold to flirt with me in front of your future wife! I am married so sorry~" she chuckled bashfully
"Huh…?", he looked at her then at you confused
"Aunty! What brought you here?" you stood between her and Gojo shielding him
"Oh right! I came to tell you the village has decided to host a festival next week so be sure to come!" she smiled warmly and left after chatting a little longer
"Flirting…what crazy conclusion is that!?" Gojo looked at you dumbstruck
"See I don't know what you knew previously but to put your hand forward to a lady after just meeting her gives the wrong signals alright" You looked at him and sighed
"Ancient times sure are crazy…"
"Oh god…" groaning you lowered your head
"What's the matter?" he looked at you
"She is now gonna tell everyone in the village that we are in a relationship"
He looked at you even more stunned than before, things were progressing too fast his brain felt fried. He realized just how big of a deal it was for him and you to be together in ancient times
"I guess…we gotta pretend to be in one"
"Do you know the significance of what you are saying!?" you looked at him shocked
"What? it's just a relationship~ I have been in many! my experience is over the charts dear" he smirked playfully as he looked at you
Link to Masterlist!
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cocteaucherry · 2 days
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trials and tribulations .3
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summary- falling in love with your sworn enemy was not something you planned.
cws- p&p au/ bridgerton au, inaccurate use of regency language, 18+, misogyny, sexual tension, future smut in later chapters, slow slow burn, LENGTHY descriptions, ooc Suguru, suguru x f!reader, talks of f!masturbation , not proofread
a/n- awkward silence when I up and left for 22 days with no explanation, I’ll touch more on that in a later post but for now enjoy!
taglist @mandysfanfics, @ti-mame, @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer
The rain belted on the glass as you stood on the other side watching as the world washed away.
You felt as if you needed a cold bath, something to wash the prints of Suguru Geto’s touch off your clothes, your hands graced over the areas where his touch lingered.
Why did you feel deprived of his touch? Why did you need his touch?
“Miss l/n I’m sorry to interrupt-“
He was caught off guard by your small yelp, you had to be more attentive in this house
“Sorry Ijichi! I get lost in thought a lot.” You bowed in apology before he also returned one.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve been more gentle with my approach.” He cleared his throat with a small smile, “It’s getting rather late and the rain hasn’t stopped.. we would offer you a carriage home but the roads have been washed out.”
“I guess I’ll wait for the rain.. or I’ll try to walk.” You shrugged contemplating your options, you really didn’t want to walk especially in this weather.
“Actually, Mr. Gojo has offered you to stay in a spare room for the evening.. we wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”
You smiled before letting out a small laugh, “I’m very grateful.. but I don’t want my mother and father to worry.”
“We assure you that your parents won’t be worried, I’m sure they’d be more upset with us for letting you walk home in this.”
Your eyebrow rose as you crossed your arms, “Forgive me for asking, I know he’s ill at the moment but will I ever get to see him during this visit?” The request came out rather timidly to your dismay but it made Ijichi sweat nonetheless.
“Well-uhm- you see Mr. Gojo wouldn’t want you to get sick as well.” Ijichi was definitely not great under pressure, you noted.
You uncrossed your arms nodding your head, “alright then, I will happily stay in a room until the rain stops.”
“Then you may follow me.”
Your head was spinning with questions, why would Ijichi possibly lie abt Gojo? Why would Gojo invite you knowing he was ill? Your heart ached in your chest, Geto's actions being the one to cause it.
Your stomach dropped and your blood ran cold, if the roads were washed out that means Geto couldn’t get back as well? Was he also going to stay?
You shook your head pushing the thoughts away. Hopefully you’d only encounter him one more time tonight.
❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀
“Suguruuu~ are you listening?”
Suguru was snapped out of thought, he stood before Gojo’s bed, the white haired man staring at him with a sick grin. “Yes… I am.” He mumbled, pushing strands of rain soaked hair out of his face.
“Y’know, for a man who’s supposedly sick you seem rather energetic .”
Satoru smirked, leaning his head back, “I’m just plagued and riddled with sickness Sugu, and it seems you are too..” he pointed a finger wagging it teasingly.
The raven haired male stared blankly at him, crossing his arms, “I’m perfectly fine Satoru, please get some rest or die of pneumonia.” He turned on his heel, preparing to exit, “I’m going home-“
“Yeeesh about thattt- I’m afraid you’re not going home anytime soon, roads washed out.”
Geto froze a vein appearing above his eyebrow, “Am I supposed to stay here for the night?”
“With her yes, maybe if you’re lucky she’ll give you a kind ‘goodnight’” Satoru hummed, staring out the window to see the tumultuous rain belt down.
“Not planning on it, Satoru,” Suguru mumbled, stepping out of the room.
❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀
The rain wasn’t letting up anytime soon.
You found yourself wandering the halls, the occasional strike of lightning helping to guide your way.
You admired the classic oil paintings that adorned the ornate halls smiling to yourself when you found a portrait of a familiar face.
hair as pure as snow with a slightly rounder face and those blue eyes that seemed to bore into your soul.
Although just like usual he was never alone, always accompanied by what seemed to be his shadow.
Dark hair that was shorter with those intense amber eyes.
“Thought you went home miss l/n”
this man truly was a shadow.
You turned to the voice of Suguru Geto, but he looked more undone. Hair slightly wet as it fell past his back some strands stuck to his forehead.
“How come you’re always near or behind him?” You ignored his question pointing your head to the portrait, footsteps echoed as he stood next to you. “How come you never answered my question?”
“Why would I answer you? Why should I?” You spun to face him as he avoided eye contact with you, “You never give me a reason to answer kindly.” You scoffed as you walked impossibly closer to him, Geto’s heart skipped a few beats as he finally made eye contact with your gaze.
He cleared his throat trying to regain his stance (control), “Satoru and I have been together for…awhile, while we both are wealthy, his family is significantly stronger.”
“So that makes you his equal, even possibly a scapegoat.” You stepped back, your eyes quickly shifting to his hand that twitched at your movement.
A grin appeared on his face, “Quite the opposite, I help save his ass on multiple occasions. He’s not the best at keeping his head straight.. or keeping his pants on.”
You choked on your saliva at the sudden mention which caused him to chuckle from his throat, “What? I know a forward woman as yourself isn’t taboo to the mention of sex? Satoru excels at that.”
You felt a blush creep under your skin, “What makes you think that?”
“The way your face visibly became uncomfortable told me that,” his eyes drifted quickly up and down your frame, “I can tell when a woman is.. how do I say this? Frustrated?”
“Frustrated?!-“ you yelled out but quickly covered your mouth to whisper it, “I’m frustrated because you- you’re!-“ you stuttered angrily, scolding yourself for not having a better comeback.
“Maybe you should try exploring your own body first before going after someone like Satoru, just a suggestion,” Geto said, turning on his foot to walk down the darkened hallway.
You had almost forgotten it was raining during the conversation, the soft patter of rain filling your ear drums as you try to reconcile what just occurred.
❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀
You weren’t sexually frustrated, You weren’t sexually frustrated,
You repeated in your head as you buried yourself into the pillows of the way too extravagant bed, “ridiculous, he doesn’t know anything..” you mumbled clasping your hands close to your chest.
You tried to force yourself to drift off to sleep but your head began to pound and your body became warm, the handprints he left on your waist, they still left an excruciatingly burning linger. The way his hair framed his face annoyed you.
His avoidant stare annoyed you. His soft voice annoyed you, his strong hands annoyed you. His sly smirk, His perfect teeth, the way his fingers graced your breasts.
His last words echoed in your head broken by your lust “Explore, body”
You were taught otherwise in your life, should you?
You felt your hands drift towards your panties playing with the hem, would you really touch yourself out of Suguru Geto’s words?
You let out a frustrated groan, you couldn’t let him win.
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tsukimefuku · 2 days
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POUT QUEEN • NANAMI KENTO
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You always got a pout when your husband Nanami arrived at home after a long day of work and didn’t kiss you hello. You constantly had to ask him to do it at least twice a week, but simply thought that his job was very demanding, so due to his tiredness, he just wound up forgetting it.
But then, one day, you switched shifts at work and now he was genuinely upset. Why? Because he wasn’t welcomed by your smiles, your honeyed voice and especially the cute pout he got from the love of his life every time he “forgot” to kiss you hello.
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strawb3rrycowz · 2 days
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Headcanons: Being the Fourth First Year at Tokyo's Jujutsu Tech
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a/n: coming back strong with a fun little post- i'm a manga reader so i need some joy in this media!
Synopsis: what it's like being one of the first years in Tokyo's Jujutsu Tech
Content Warning: none, really! some swearing and canon typical violence- nothing descriptive
gender neutral! reader
Thank you @saradika for this great divider!
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Meeting Them:
✿𝅼 - You had a later start to the year, arriving just a few days after Nobara
✿𝅼 - Whether you had previous knowledge of the Jujutsu world or not didn't matter- you were definitely not prepared for the chaos you stepped into
✿𝅼 - A tall guy in a blind fold- who you later found out was your teacher and the strongest sorcerer, Satoru Gojo- was happily waving you over
✿𝅼 - That alone wouldn't bother you, if it wasn't for the black-haired boy he was holding by the collar. The kid looked tired and about ready to go home
✿𝅼 - Gojo welcomed you and introduced you to the boy he was holding as Megumi, telling you to not mind his "gloomy attitude"
✿𝅼 - It was going great, Gojo was recommending all kinds of cafes and bakeries near by. Megumi was checking his phone, offering quick responses when needed
✿𝅼 - The calm was broken by loud bickering. When you looked over Gojo's shoulder (which was kind of hard with his height) you watched an angry girl stomp her way over. The closer she got the better you could see that she was knocking her fist against a pink-haired guy's head- something about letting her shopping bags drag on the ground
✿𝅼 - The guy was yelling back at a lower volume, trying to stop her from hitting him more. It was a strange site, but what really stuck out to you was the tell-tale buttons on their uniforms
✿𝅼 - These maniacs were going to be your new classmates
✿𝅼 - After the initial meetings and getting settled into your new room, you were sent out on your first mission. It was just going to be you, so it was nothing more than a few grade fours- maybe grade three at worst
✿𝅼 - The location was an abandoned lake on the country side, and to make sure all went well the other first years tagged along
✿𝅼 - Nobara wasn't happy to be stuck in some swamp and made sure everyone was aware; Yuji had wondered off a few times when he saw cool looking bugs and frogs; Megumi, thankfully, was a big help and guided you on what to expect
✿𝅼 - At some point you broke off from the group, following the trail of cursed energy to the other side of the lake. It was a good distance, and with a sudden fog that rolled in you were basically on your own
✿𝅼 - Unsurprisingly, things didn't go as planned and somehow a semi-grade 2 curse had snuck its way into the area
✿𝅼 - Of course, you're a boss and handled yourself. When you made your way back over, exhausted and beat-up, Yuji and Megumi ran to help you- Nobara called in Ijichi to come pick you all up as she pulled bandages from her bag
✿𝅼 - While the bruises and cuts stung, it was a very good bonding experience! Nobara's bandages were really cute (she let you pick which color and design to make you feel better), and Yuji carried you everywhere for the rest of the day
✿𝅼 - Thank god for Megumi, he was the one talking to Shoko, getting you water, and checking in on you
✿𝅼 - They were all still chaotic, sharing one brain cell when they were together- but they were your idiots who made you feel like family
General HC:
✿𝅼 - If you identify as female/ use she/her/they pronouns, expect Nobara to kind of kidnap you a lot. She's a girl's girl and will back you up constantly, taking you shopping with her and building up your confidence.
✿𝅼 - Continuing the previous head canon, she will drag you away from Megumi and Yuji if they're annoying her while saying something like "y/n and I are leaving before you infect us with your stupid"
✿𝅼 - If you identify as male/ use he/him/they, Yuji is going to constantly be in your space- this boy has no sense of personal bubbles and you can tell. He's definitely the type to joke around- like he for sure jokingly flirts with you
✿𝅼 - Yuji has said the lines: is it gay to kiss my bro morning, noon, and night? no- it's called being a supportive friend!
✿𝅼 - Doesn't matter what gender you are to Megumi- he just hopes you'll help him wrangle the others in (he is so tired)
✿𝅼 - I don't care if you have the biggest brain in the world, it's useless when you're all together
✿𝅼 - It's so much worse when Gojo's there too- like he feeds into the bullshit
✿𝅼 - like you all would be cleaning out the dorm fridge and Yuji would see a jar that's THREE FULL YEARS EXPIRED and go "bet you guys ten bucks I could eat this and keep it down"
✿𝅼 - You're already pulling out a ten, "I know you're a pit, Yuji, but even this is too much- I'm betting against you"
✿𝅼 - Nobara is slamming down a ten before you can even finish, "Y/N'S RIGHT! THERE'S NO WAY YOU CAN HANDLE THAT"
✿𝅼 - Megumi isn't putting any money down, just grumbling and readying a trash can for if Yuji up-chucks
✿𝅼 - Just as Yuji grabs a spoon and is scooping up some of the nasty smelling gunk, Gojo's hand grabs his wrist. None of you are too shocked, your teacher pops in and out whenever he pleases
✿𝅼 - "Now Yuji," Gojo's got a serious expression on as he continues, "I can't let you do this... without giving you some advice!" and he goes right back to being a child "You should eat it in one go so you don't have the chance to regret it!"
✿𝅼 - After letting Yuji go Gojo slides a twenty onto the table, "Double on him keeping it down"
✿𝅼 - Yuji was, in fact, able to keep it down- too bad for you, losing a ten
✿𝅼 - During missions, you all tag along together even if there's only one person assigned. It's great support! Also none of you have gotten horribly injured because of this new system!
✿𝅼 - I feel like at some point you will interact with Sukuna in some way- and that curse does NOT like you
✿𝅼 - To Sukuna, you're not Megumi so that makes you boring. If you happen to have an interesting technique, he'll mess with you a bit if he ever takes control then beat the shit out of you
✿𝅼 - Also, movie nights are a must! Yuji usually doesn't host them after Nobara whacked him over his posters. So you, Megumi, and Nobara switch up who's room is used
✿𝅼 - Yuji always picks the movies and they're always good, somehow they appeal to all of you. Also the amount of snacks is shocking, but they never go to waste!
✿𝅼 - Every movie night you guys fall asleep on each other. Yuji is a literal furnace so all of you end up piling on him when it's cold- or trying to get out of his koala grip during hot nights
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wasn't sure how to end this so...
either way i might do this more, writing these were fun!
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symbiomancy · 11 hours
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movie —getō suguru
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—summary: You can't decide on an outfit to wear to the movies.
—cw: f!reader, brother x sister, p in v sex, creampie, foreplay // AO3 ver
—wc: 3,8k (send help)
—note: can't decide if suguru is a third year in high school or a first-year in university :/
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Suguru leans against your doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He takes a moment to survey your room, the clothes strewn across the floor, even more clothes piled onto your computer chair, a mountain of makeup items on your desk. With any luck you’ll clean up before he plans to vacuum tomorrow afternoon but knowing you, he’ll end up sorting through everything and cleaning up for you.
Ah, the  things he does for the sake of your company.
His eyes snap up from the floor when you step out from behind the closet, pulling a shirt over your head, the zipper of your skirt fisted in your free hand to keep it from slipping off.
“We’re going to be late,” he says and you visibly jump, tug the shirt over your head, hair sticking out in every direction. You frown at him, grab the first shirt off the floor your hand finds and throw it at his head. He catches it with ease, stares at you with an unamused look.
“Pervert,” you say, turning to the full-length mirror resting against the wall. “I can’t get these stupid socks to stay up.” You lift a leg to show off your white over the knee sock; its’ top curls into itself with the movement, slides down your knee.
“C’mere.” Suguru pushes off the doorway, beckons you along with the sweep of his hand. He piles your array of decorative pillows and stuffed animals to one side of the bed, just enough to give himself room to sit, and pats his thigh. You pull the packet of double-sided tape from the nightstand next to your bed, press it into his waiting hand, and sit on his lap. Suguru raises a brow at the back of your neck but doesn’t say anything, busies himself with peeling the strips of tape from the glossy paper to not be distracted by the way you squirm in his lap, his cock pressing against your ass.
He presses the pieces of tape against your thigh, then tugs the over-the-knee sock up. “Press down,” he says, breath ghosting against the shell of your ear. You clear your throat, let him adjust your fingers, and do as he says. Suguru places the tape onto your other thigh, pulls the sock over it and presses down, hands cupped around your thigh so everything adheres.
They’re warm, large. Sturdy. He cooks, he cleans — he folds your knees over your shoulders with them. Simple black rings adorn his fingers. His nail polish is chipping; you’re not sure if you have any black left. You make a mental note to grab a bottle from the store on your way home from the movie.
“There.” He tentatively releases his hold on your thigh. The ghost of his touch lingers, thrums beneath your skin. You peel yourself from his lap and skitter over to your mirror, do a twirl, lift one leg and then the other, drop into a crouch and stand again. The socks and their tape stay in place. You flash him a grin from the mirror, blow him a kiss that he catches, presses against his cheek. Warmth blooms in your chest.
Suguru lets himself flop onto his back, fishing his phone from his pocket to check the time. If you manage to get off your ass and get dressed in the next 15 minutes you might actually make it to the movie. 10 minutes, if you want to grab something from the concession stand. He navigates to the cinema’s homepage to check if and when there are any screenings for tomorrow. Then again, cleaning with you in the house is a day-long activity.
You frown at your reflection. Now that the socks stay up, you realize the pretty lace at the top doesn’t go with your skirt. It drops into an unceremonious pile on the floor as you unzip it and beeline over to your closet to flip through the skirts piled on their shelf. Maybe you should do a thorough try-on one day and get rid of everything you haven’t worn in a while or will never wear again. Bet your big brother would like that. You conjure an image of his heavy, heated gaze, staring at you through lidded eyes, a finger raised in a signal to give him a pretty twirl. The mere idea of it sends a jolt of excitement through your very being and you bury your face into the smooth fabric of a white skirt and squeal.
“You weren’t any more or less dressed when I got in the shower. Half an hour ago.” Suguru glances up from his phone just as you’ve stepped into the white skirt, tugging the zipper up.
“Yes, I was.” You stare at your reflection in the mirror. “Fuck, I need a new shirt.”
“What did I say about swearing?”
Heat erupts in your cheeks, in your ears, rolls into your torso and spreads into your extremities.
Suguru tucks away his phone, looks at you from his spot between the round migrating plushies, swats one away with his hand. It rolls off the bed. When you lean forward to grab a shirt from the ground, Suguru gets a full view of your ass, the curve of your cunt just barely peeking out. He places a hand over his half-hard cock, palms it through his pants. “The fuck are you wearing? That’s not underwear; that’s silly string between your ass.”
“Is so.” Your hand shoots to your behind, tucks the skirt hem against your cheeks. “You can see it through the fabric can’t you?”
“That too.” Even if there’s barely anything to see, he thinks, but doesn’t bother verbalizing it.
You frown, brows furrowed, and turn your lower body to check your reflection in the mirror. It’s not noticeable unless you know where to look, but if you lean forward… The skirt hikes up when you test it and you make an indignant noise in the back of your throat, stand up ramrod straight.
“Seriously?” You tug on the back of your skirt again, lean forward. It hikes up again, pussy on full display.
Suguru has tucked his phone back into his pocket, now upright again, sitting on the edge of your bed, elbows resting on his knees. He eyes the flimsy fabric, the way you flash your pretty little cunt at him every time you try to bend over and the skirt hikes up. A warmth curls at the base of his spine and his cock jerks in his pants, tenting the material. He stands.
You don’t even notice he’s moved at all until he stops behind you, swings an arm around your front, pulls you flush against him. He rolls his hips against your ass, cock straining in his pants. You push back against his body, delight in the little gasp it elicits from him, so breathy. “See what you do to me?” He mutters, words muffled against the side of your neck. “Are you going to take responsibility for getting your big brother like this?”
You hum, a denial on the tip of your tongue as you lean forward to adjust your frilly socks, and Suguru’s body follows, arms still tightly wound around your waist. His cock presses against your barely-covered pussy, drags the fabric just enough to send a jolt to your core, heat pooling between your legs. You take an even breath in, ignore the heat of his breaths against your skin.
“That’s a you problem, pervert.”
Suguru releases his grip on you, tilts his head just enough to catch your eye in the mirror; one which you immediately turn your gaze away from to stare at your socked feet, hands working on smoothing down the wrinkles in your skirt. Maybe this one won’t do, either. You very pointedly don’t look up when his hands rest on your shoulders and he coaxes you to turn around to face him.
He leans forward, wraps his arms around your thighs and throws you over his shoulder. You squeal, hands finding purchase in the back of his black shirt, and his own hand smacks against your ass with a crisp smack and you nearly squeal again. Suguru turns, stalks across the room and drops you onto the spot he’d cleared on your bed, although it has once again been overtaken by your round forever migrating plushies. They bounce with you, several dropping to the ground and rolling away.
You barely have enough time to reorient yourself when his hands close around your ankles and tug you over to the edge of the bed. He leans in, one knee placed on the very edge of your bed, just shy of your cunt, hands on either side of your head. His hair is messy, strands falling out of the half-up style he’s sporting.
“Now is that any way to talk to your big brother?” He brushes a strand of hair away from your forehead with a hum. “I cook for you, clean, help you with your homework, let you climb into my bed because you’re so afraid of the dark—”
Your hand strikes out, aiming for his side but he catches it, fingers wrapping tightly around yours. He lifts it to his face and presses a kiss against the inside of your wrist. “S-Sorry,” you croak out with what must amount to a grimace, not an attempt at a smile.
“I take care of you… I spoil you rotten, and you call me a pervert.” He tuts. “I can look at you if I want to; you were made for me. These hands,” he spreads your fingers, laces them with his, “this face,” his eyes land on you, half-lidded and smoldering, and heat erupts under your skin, blooms in your face and you have the sudden desire to shy away from him, burrow between the blankets and never look at him again. “This body — this pussy.” He brings his knee forward, presses it against your cunt, smears your arousal against the jean fabric. Your mouth falls open, back arching, hips bucking into him. “Everything about you was made for me. Just me.”
The world swims. You breathe in, nearly choke on it when Suguru adjusts his knee, the coarse jean fabric dragging against your throbbing pussy. He’s so good, always knows how to take care of you, better than anyone.
“Say it.”
“What?” You blink, mind fuzzy, composure fraying at the edges.
“You were made for me.”
“I was made for you.”
“Good girl.” Suguru leans in, presses his face to the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over the sensitive skin. A shiver strikes down your spine, into your core, wetness pooling between your legs. His lips press down into a chaste kiss against your neck and u whimper. He gains courage from it, brings his lips flush against your skin in featherlight open-mouthed kisses. They trail up the column of your neck, over the curve of your jaw, to the corner of your mouth. He pulls back with a grin, pupils blown, eyes half-lidded.
You pout up at him, bring a hand to the back of his neck, the soft strands of hair splayed between your fingers, and pull his lips onto yours. His tongue surges forward, pries your lips apart and wraps around your own. There are large hands in your hair and on your throat and on your jaw, fingers pressing down against your cheeks, cupping your face. He tastes like mint, like that gum he likes, the one that’s so overwhelmingly minty it makes you sneeze every time you chew it. But on his tongue, it’s a pleasant aftertaste, something you could easily get addicted to. 
Suguru adjusts his stance, leans on one hand to bring the other one away from your face to explore your body, fingers ghosting over your skin. They graze the underwire of your bra and he pulls back abruptly, a string of spit connecting your lips, to frown at the offending garment.
You follow his gaze, prop yourself onto your elbows, fingers attempting to undo the hooks at your back. Suguru stares at your exposed throat and leans in to press a chaste kiss against it. Then another and another, trailing down as you frantically attempt to dislodge the bra hooks, heart thundering in your chest. He grazes his teeth over your skin, bites down and you mewl at the pain that erupts in your flesh. Suguru mutters an apology against your throat, presses his tongue flat against the bite. It soothes the pain, but does little to calm your pulse in your ears.
Your hands are shaking, a sob stuck in your throat. This stupid bra and those stupid hooks, bent out of shape and always getting stuck, ruining everything —
“Breathe,” Suguru mumbles as he resumes his movement, inching closer to your breasts. “You can do it. Take a breath.” His hands glide down the length of your torso, grab a handful of ass each, and squeeze. “You’re okay.”
You swallow around the panic clawing up your throat and run your fingers over the hooks behind your back. Two are loose, just the one remaining latched. Suguru’s lips return to you, bite down at the skin pulled taut over the collarbone. He suckles on the blooming bruise, runs his warm tongue over it to soothe the ache.
The bra finally — finally — releases and you claw the straps from your shoulders, discard the item onto the floor and tangle your fingers in his hair. Suguru snatches your free hand, pins it against the bed, continues his assault of open-mouthed kisses over the expanse of your skin. He nibbles on the plush of your breast.
His tongue circles your nipple, glides over it and you buck your hips voluntarily. His hot mouth closes around the stiff peak and he chuckles. It reverberates against your skin, in the very cavity of your chest. You shiver, too warm and too cold at once, and grind down on the knee between your legs.
Suguru releases your breast, huffs a cool breath against it and you inhale, sharp and high-pitched. He tuts. “So impatient.” His grip on your thighs slackens, moves across the skin, fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake. They stop at the hem of your skirt, lingering there for just a moment and you whine, tug on the fistful of hair in your vise grip. His mouth falls open in a barely audible gasp, eyes fluttering shut, a notch between his brows.
Fuck, you think, that had to have hurt. You untangle your shaking hand, wince when a few strands stick to your sweaty fingers and tug his head along. Sorry, sorry, sorry, you chant in your head, angling your hand between your bodies to tug at the skirt’s zipper. One of his hands swats yours away, then pushes under the white fabric. His fingers ghost over your underwear — fuck, there really is barely any fabric to it — over your clit and you buck against them.
“Keep it on,” he says, voice smooth and rich. His fingers burrow under your underwear — really, you’re never wearing anything like that out of the house, period, he’ll make sure of it if he has to — and slide through your folds, circle your clit. His thumb comes to rest against your entrance. He pulls your lips apart, gathers your essence onto the digit. 
“Suguru…” You whine. He hums, takes a breath to ease the horrible discomfort rearing it’s ugly head in his pants. “Stop teasing and put it in already; you’re gonna ruin it if you keep being mean.”
He laughs, low and honey-like as he withdraws slightly, places his hands onto your thighs to push them apart. He snatches a decorative pillow from the foot of your bed to prop under your hips. It leaves him nearly at eye-level with your weeping cunt. The non-existent underwear is drenched and he pushes the sopping fabric aside, stares at the threads of slick connecting it to your swollen pussy. He pauses, watches you clench around nothing and fuck, it sends a jolt straight to his dick. It presses against the crotch of his jeans, so hard it aches. At this pace, he might cum on the spot.
“You’re going to kill me like this, baby,” he says as he hooks his fingers over your ruined panties and tugs them down your thighs.
“You gotta make up your mind; do you want my legs open or closed?”
He sends you a playful glare and pulls his shirt over his head, drops it onto the pile on the floor. His belt buckle clangs against the wooden floor and he almost trips over his pants and boxers when you let your thighs fall open, a hand spreading your pussy. You clench around nothing, so desperate for your big brother’s cock.
Suguru spits into his hand, gives his cock three quick tugs because that’s all he can handle; he might really bust in his hand like a loser if he doesn’t get to be inside you right now. He lines himself up, drags the tip through your folds, gathering your arousal on his tip and you moan, low and just barely there but it sends a fire spreading under his skin and he can see his cock jump at the sound.
He presses the head of his cock against your dripping cunt and pauses just as he’s about to breach it. “Breathe,” he instructs, “relax. I take care of you, don’t I?” You nod frantically, take a deep breath in to quell your racing heart. Suguru nudges the tip of his cock inside and slides in slowly, inch-by-inch, breath by breath. When he bottoms out, pelvis flush against yours, he pauses and you both release a long breath. He’s so big, so thick, fills you up so perfectly — fuck, maybe you really were tailor-made for him — and you clench around him — fuck, you can barely clench those muscles with him inside — and he exhales, quick this time, nothing but a low hiss of pleasure. You’re so warm, so tight, he’s going to lose his mind, and he decides that yes, this is the only pussy he wants out of this life, yours, always yours because fuck, you take him so well.
You reach out, place your hands onto his shoulders, slide them across the skin until your fingers meet at the nape of his neck.
Suguru leans down, presses a kiss to your lips, tongue wrapped around yours. He swallows your wanton moan, sinks his teeth into your bottom lip. You clench around him involuntarily. “Shit — you’re gonna fuckin’ castrate me like this, baby. Are you that desperate for your big brother’s cock?” His hips twitch and he pulls back slightly, agonizingly slow but the drag of him is so sweet you see black spots in the edge of your vision. He fills you up so well when he bottoms out, tip nudging so deep you almost see stars.
He picks up the pace, hips jerking forward faster, harsher, and your eyes roll back and you’re merely working with Suguru’s motions now. He’s rutting into your poor pussy like an animal in heat, heavy breaths escaping him, caressing your sweat-slick skin. Heat coils in your stomach, you’re so close to the edge, ready to tip off and dissolve into a gooey, mindless, weightless bliss.
“Suguru, I’m—”
“Do it.” 
Heat flushes through you, pussy clenching around him as your orgasm crashes into you, knocks the breath from your lungs. The world becomes blurry, you can barely register your own ragged breaths as the warmth travels through you, and white sparks behind your eyelids if you try to close them. The euphoria of it races through your veins, sets every nerve ending alight, tapering at your fingertips. It laps at your thoughts, submerges every possible thought in a sea of Suguru, how good he is to you, how good he makes you feel, how well his cock fits into you, and how well you fit around his cock, like you’re made for each other.
Suguru’s hips speed up, it’s too much and you want to cry but it’s heavenly, too much and too little at the same time, you want to push him away and pull him in at the same time. He’s pistoning into you, rhythm almost sloppy, and then—
He stills abruptly, presses himself deep into your still-spasming cunt, so deep it draws another mewl from your lips, and spills inside. Warm, he’s so warm, he fills you up so well. You wrap your exhausted, shaking, legs around his waist, hook your heels together to keep him in place. Every muscle in your body is sore, screaming for rest as he drapes his torso on top of yours, forehead resting against your shoulder, chest heaving.
He becomes dead weight on top of you all at once. His skin is sticky with a sheen of sweat and you place a hand on the back of his neck, card your fingers through the sweat-slick strands of what has remained of his hairstyle. The world stands still for a few moments, the rev of an engine and bird chitter filtering in through the cracked window. This is nice, you decide, you could stay here, like this, with your big brother, the moment frozen in time forever for you to keep.
Then Suguru groans, braces his hands on either side of his hips and pushes himself up with shaking arms and pulls out. His cum dribbles out of you as he leaves and you almost sigh. This is a nice set of sheets. He stays as he is, hunched over, arms slowly regaining their strength, and stares, transfixed, as his cum oozes out of you. He eases himself onto his knees in front of the bed and scoops some of the escaping cum up with his fingers, pushes it back into your puffy cunt. You whine low in your throat and his gaze snaps up.
“I’m sticky ‘cause of you.”
He sighs and dissolves into a short, low laugh. He pulls his fingers out, wipes them against your thigh. “C’mon,” he wraps a hand around either ankle and pulls you closer, “bath time.” He unzips your skirt and tugs the socks free of the tape — hey, they survived you getting railed by your big brother — and discards them amidst the piles of clothes on the floor.
“But we’re missing the movie.”
“We can go tomorrow. Or…” He stands, slides one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, lifts you up. You cringe when your body is jostled with the movement and something slips out of you, glance over your shoulder at the glob of cum that’s splattered on the floor. “We could just make our own movie. When you’re older.”
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note: iirc this is my first actual p in v smut, we can only go up from here, lads
divider/banner credit: @/cafekitsune
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