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#jjk male reader insert
dvlboy · 9 months
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after exams | 18+
"one more baby.. isn't this what you wanted?" your warm hands grabbed his hips, thumbs on his v-line before you pulled him in closer to his fate.
"no mooreeee, no moreeee.. m'sorry.." he was on your bed, sweaty, flushed, and grasping. he had an arm over his face while he tossed and turned, biting his arm to prevent noise.
he could feel you pulse inside of him while you clawed him towards you, pushing his sweaty hair delicately. you pulled ontop of him, a predatory grin leaking itself onto your lips at his helpless state. he couldn't even look at you, knowing that he dug his own grave.
he could feel your finger trace his stomach, delicately scraping the skin. "all bark and no bite, huh?" your hand traced lower and lower, and he braced his breath, feeling you reach his pelvis. it rested there, teasing him by slowly going closer to his spent, overstimulated cock.
"remember when you teased me while i was studying? all those slow touches, all those looks?" your hand grabbed his cock, feigning away the frantic arms that attempted to stop you.
"m'sorry! jus' missed you.. n'moree..." he had tears pooling in his eyes, desperation rising in his voice. he couldn't take another round, he might die! you're too big-- it feels like he can't breathe! and you're too mean, making him ride you until his knees buckled and his body became putty, in the names of "proving how much he wanted it."
the condom box you bought for today had long since gone dry, and the fresh bottle of lube is starting to run dry. soiled condoms littered your bed and your cum was being plugged by your dick.
"you still miss me now?" that same teasing tone rose again, "cause i missed my baby too.." a small smile crept up on his face, hearing the sincerity in your voice.
"i miss him so much, that i think i'll show him again, and again, and again until i make up for the weeks of exams.. and i don't think i can wait for more lube or condoms." his face quickly grew pale, protesting noises leaving his mouth as you buried yourself back inside of him
GOJO, GETOU, HINATA, OIKAWA, SAKUSA, MAMMON, DIAVOLO, KAEYA, KAVEH, YUJI, al haitham, atsumu, kuroo, sukuna + ur favourites
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m getting back into writing, hopefully make a few other thinsg n experiment a bit in writing styles, also kind of inspired by the layout of mr cool n sexy @maroonsoul
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phyrestartr · 4 months
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Love Is Not My Right | Sukuna x M!Reader
W/C: 1.1k
#NSFW, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, reader is early thirties, sukuna is mid twenties, reader is a uni prof, sukuna is a uni student, DON'T SLEEP WITH YOUR PROFS IRL PLS THANK YOU, questionable relationship, smut, fluff, angst, self-deprecating reader, soft sukuna?, sukuna has daddy and mommy issues, not edited that much lol IT'S A DRABBLE STFU
tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork (SOZ IF Y'ALL HAVE ALREADY READ THIS HFOHGIOHG JUST REMEMBERED I DIDN'T ADD TAGS)
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“Fuck, Teach,” Sukuna groaned. His hips pistoned against yours harder, accentuated by the sharp clap of skin meeting skin. He squeezed your thigh, the one of the leg thrown over his shoulder, before slapping the side of your ass as his head tilted back with a throaty groan.
You, on the other hand, were a trembling mess--and at the hands of your student, no less. Everything about this was uncouth as could be; Sukuna was nearly a decade your junior, he was in your class, and he had zero qualms about the fact that you were his professor. He saw you, decided he wanted you, and would therefore have you.
It was easy saying no in the beginning. He was a typical punk with sharp wit and a sharper tongue--many men like him had made passes at you in the confines of your classroom, but Sukuna had the smarts and charisma to back up his flirtatious remarks and daring whispers.
But, if you were being honest, maybe it was because you'd been engaged twice, un-engaged thrice (long story). Maybe it was because you'd been cheated on and dumped on loop. Maybe it was because you'd given up on romance and sex and everything else and–well, maybe that was why you succumbed to his advances. Maybe you were just sad and lonely, willing to be taken advantage of under the man's misguided thought that you'd give him a better grade if he fucked you good enough. You wouldn't. But he never asked for it, either.
You jumped when another sharp spank sent ripples of bitter pleasure and pinching pain fluttering across your skin. The simple feeling had you clamping down around the man and gasping.
“Itadori-kun–”
“What did I say?” Sukuna groaned, spanking you again and adjusting the leg hooked over his shoulder. “First name.”
Your eyes blurred slightly from the embarrassment and pleasure of it all. “I--but that's–”
“I'm ‘boutta cum in your ass, ‘n you're worried about honorifics?” Sukuna cackled, holding your thigh with both hands as he focused harder on moving his hips faster and faster. “‘M fucking you…in your own fuckin’ bed…and you're–ah–worried about–fuck, you're so fucking good--fuck.”
The searing friction eating you alive tripled in Sukuna's frenzy to reach his second high of the night. You burned alive, shyly crying out as he hit your soft spot over and over, tightening up more and more until you plummeted into your third (fourth? Fifth?) orgasm dealt by Itadori Sukuna's hand. Well, hand, mouth, and cock.
“Sukuna,” you gasped, curling into yourself and subsequently toward him, fisting one hand into his dark hoodie to try and ground yourself against the relentless assault.
His hips stuttered when you called his name. His lips crashed against yours, then, with teeth clacking together and tongue bullying into your mouth as he trembled and slammed in with too-much strength to pour his cum into your core.
“F-fuck. Love that sh-shit,” he stuttered as his stomach tightened and contracted, his eyes rolling back before they fell closed to indulge in the pleasure crashing down on him. But his body's seizing didn't stop his hips from moving–he kept pushing and pushing, hard and sloppy and weak but so, so desperate to jam more and more deeper and deeper into you.
Eventually, when you were both threadbare and burnt out, he pulled out and collapsed beside you with a pleased sigh. You hugged a pillow and fought to catch your breath, but Sukuna, the brat he was, tugged away your life boat to replace it with himself.
You sighed, baffled and exhausted. “Sukuna–”
“What? ‘M allowed to fuck you but not–”
“You–I–we shouldn't be–I shouldn't be doing this,” you argued. “You're too young, I'm your professor. You should be looking for people your own age–”
“Not like I fucking chose this for the thrill,” he scoffed, tucking his arm under his head as he looked at your tired face. “This looks bad on me, too. Looks like I'm tryna fuck good grades out of you.”
You huffed and fixed his hoodie's tangled drawstrings. “You already get good grades. No one would believe that.”
“‘M a fucking genius. Everyone knows,” he agreed with a smirk. “But the other extras in your class? They'll act like it's somethin’ else. They'll jump on whatever the fuck they can to make their own pathetic asses feel less guilty for sucking so hard at life.”
You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help a smile. “Well, this'll look worse on me. Either you did fuck grades out of me, or I'm holding said grades hostage ‘n making you sleep with me lest they suddenly drop.”
Sukuna hummed and slid a hand to your bare waist. “Ho? I like the sound of that. Guess I'll have to try harder to make sure I stay your favourite. I could go for a 4.4."
“Please–don't roleplay that,” you begged, feeling more tired by the second. “Just promise me you'll move on and forget about this after finals. Please. It's in your best interest.”
“Yeah? ‘N what's in your best interest, Teach?” Sukuna wondered. His knuckles brushed against the curve of your cheek, and you felt your heart ache with loneliness. But you'd never admit you wanted this. You'd never admit you wanted a cure for being unlovable.
“Keeping you safe,” you said, pulling his hand from your face and squeezing it tightly, “Is in my best interest. I want you to be happy, to stay out of trouble. And this? This can only breed trouble.”
“Trouble ain't so bad.”
“Sukuna.”
“After finals, ‘m not your student anymore,” Sukuna reminded.
Your face got a little hot. “Don't twist this–”
“Twist it? Tch. It's just facts.” He looped his arms around your smaller frame and tugged you in close. “So I'm gonna keep taking my daddy issues out on you even after the semester ends.”
You had to laugh. “That's–you're a little too self-aware–”
“Pretty sure that's a good thing, no?” He yawned and tugged the blankets up over the both of you. “You're starting to piss me off with all the resistance. Just take it. Like how you take my cock.”
You sighed and sat up, pulling the blanket over the younger man more. “You have a dangerous mouth on you, y’know that?”
Sukuna smirked. “Like hearin' that from you.”
“Right. Well, I need to wash up.” You brushed his hair back against your better judgment. “You need anything?”
The look he sent you made everything ache more; it was something so warm and lazy, half-lidded eyes fighting to stay open as your tender touches lulled him to sleep. It was so strange, the apparent peace you brought to such an explosive soul. It almost made you think this could work.
“Jus’ make sure you come back,” he grumbled before letting his eyes fall closed. “Fucking kill you if you don't.”
You smiled the tiniest bit as you brushed his hair back a few more times. “Promise I will,” you whispered, earning a soft grunt of approval in return.
But as you sauntered to the bathroom, shedding whatever clothes you somehow still had on, you cried.
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yandere-romanticaa · 2 months
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"You know..." he trailed off, his voice gruff but cool. Two fingers danced across the countertop as you chopped the potatoes sloppily, as you were still not quite adept with handling a knife.
He continues. "... You would be a really nagging wife, did anyone ever tell you that?"
A scoff escapes you but even so, you chop. It's a little hard trying to focus on cooking all the while this idiot keeps trying to rile you up like crazy. Why was he even here, who even invited him? Yeah, he was popular around town and it wasn't uncommon for him to hop from place to place, regardless of what it may be. Be it someone's house, a bar, a club, a gaming center, it honestly didn't matter.
It just freaked you out how he was slowly morphing into the shadow you never wished to have.
"Is that so?" You ask him sarcastically, your face schooled into an unreadable expression. The smell of delicious spices enveloped the whole kitchen and it made you even hungrier. You were going to kill your friend for allowing this god awful fiend inside here. Refusing to turn to him, you still probed him.
"Don't marry me then, I never asked for your opinion to begin with."
He's stunned for a millisecond before regaining his composure, a booming laugh soon reverberated across the entire room. He clutched his chest a little, as if you had just told him the funniest joke in the whole wide world.
In a way, it was.
He, despite his bravado, wouldn't mind having such crummy a wife by his side.
He was living the good life and nothing could stop him. But there was just something about you, something that would always make him take a step back and think. It was so cute how you were trying to concentrate on making a tasty meal for himself, of course he was going to steal a little later.
He adored your cooking, even if it could get sloppy at times.
The "you'd be a bad/annoying/nagging wife" thing started off as something to humor him, and to piss you off naturally. Nothing brought him greater satisfaction than to see a scowl on your face and just straight up ruin your day. It was exhilarating to watch the light in your eyes crumble the moment he took a breath of air which came from your direction, let alone actually come to you.
It didn't hit him that he was actively interested in you.
He never even realized just how many of your dumb little habits he had picked up on, just how many times he had to stop himself from doing more than he already did because he didn't want to give you the wrong idea.
He doesn't like you, he thinks you're a fool. Plain and simple, just like that.
It doesn't matter that his heart beats so much faster at the mere thought of you, it doesn't matter that he started to fantasize how you would look like if you were his actual wife.... To come home to you, in your soft embrace as a meal was ready for him...
No matter. He'll trick, tease and steal from you as much as he possibly can.
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🎀 Gilgamesh (Fate), Bakugo Katsuki, Dabi, Hawks (BNHA), Gojo Satoru (JJK), Guren Ichinose (Seraph of the End), Ayato Sakamaki, Laito Sakamaki (Diabolik Lovers), Satori Tendo (Haikyuu!), Aalto (Wuthering Waves)
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malereadermaniac · 3 months
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Someone Older ~ Sukuna x Male Reader
Meeting a sexy, tatted up, older guy at a bar DISCLAIMER: I haven't watched JJK! I've written Sukuna using context clues I've gotten from reading other fics! I've written him as: cocky, mean, dominant, and not all lovey-dovey for the reader word count: 2.4k Top!Sukuna x Bottom!Reader Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI
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Your local club was your second home. You had gone to it many, many times with your friends, even though you weren't that much of a drinker; the atmosphere was just fun, it relaxed you after a week of college. Plus, the club was the perfect place to get the dick that you had been craving and thinking about since the last time you had been blessed with it's presence - that dick belonging to a certain pink-headed man.
You had first encountered Sukuna at the very same club you were in right now. You really fucking hated him to begin with, your first encounter being the muscular man literally shoving you out of his way to get past you; his massive hand jarring you as he grabbed your shoulder. After that, every time you caught the giant man in the corner of your eye, you would give him the smallest glare. What accelerated your 'relationship' was pure coincidence - the two of you ending up out-front of the club at the same time, alone. You innitially ignored him, breathing in the fresh air you came out for and taking a few hits on your vape, but a small scoff and deep chuckle from the pink-haired figure beside you caught your attention.
"What?" You say, looking up at the taller, clearly older man with small squint of your eye and raise of your eyebrow - you were quite ready to sass him if he made any out of pocket comments
"I just don't get why people your age insist on using those colorful, sweet sticks ha... Just smoke a cig ya pussies" The large man commented, barely even sparing you a side-glance
" 'cause they're better for you than whatever the fuck you're rolling right now" you respond, turning your body to face the dickhead which was now rolling his second cigarette
"oh yeah? ya' shure 'bout that?" Sukuna volleyed back, his speech ever so slightly muffled from holding a filter in his mouth
"Yeah.. um... studies have- oh fuck off" you mumble back, your body growing hot. For some reason, you could now understand the sex appeal of the man in front of you: the way his hair slightly fell on his forehead as he looked down to roll his cigarette, and fucking hell the way that Sukuna glanced up into your eyes as you talked, a small, smug smirk on his lips as the white filter parted them slightly. This man was sex on legs.
After that first night actually talking to the muscular dickhead, you didn't give him much thought. That was until the following weekend, when you bumped into him again, at the same club. He initially only acknowledged you briefly with a chuckle and a mumble of 'you stalking me or somethin'?', however as the night progressed and the alcohol hit you both a little more (you more so), Sukuna and yourself ended up alone once again. In a more quite area of the club, ordering yourself another drink, you recognised the veiny, tattooed arm on the bar next to you, and a sexy voice you could briefly recount ordering some sort of spirit or beer. You roll your eyes and chuckle to yourself when your eyes make contact with his, which resulted in the pink-haired man sitting down next to you; he was already drunk, pretty horny, and he couldn't deny that you piqued his interest just the smallest bit.
"So what's ya name, pretty boy" The older man asks after downing the shot he had just been handed
"As if I'd tell you" you say with a roll of your neck towards the taller man, your eyes looking up into his as Sukuna clearly checks you out with half-lidded eyes; darting between your exposed skin, back to your eyes, your curves, then back to your eyes again.
"Hah... You know you want to" The giant man chuckles out, briefly rubbing his neck and showing off his ginormous biceps and triceps, his arm covered in line-like tattoos
"(Y/n)... What about you, handsome?" you say with a small, horny smile; stretching in a nonchalant way, which showed off your body just perfectly in the club lighting
That's all you really remember about your first actual conversation with Sukuna, things got a bit blurry after that. Oh, and how at some point after that conversation, the two of you hastily made your way to the men's bathroom and started desperately making out. With you shoved against the bathroom wall, Sukuna's massive arms holding your waist and cheek as he dominated your mouth with his tongue and rubbed his knee against your crotch in a teasing manner. Briefly, the taller, stronger man breaks the kiss and sports a smug, horny smirk on his chiseled face; his hand still holding your cheek to look up at him as Sukuna lets out a small, breathy chuckle at your panting form.
"Y'know... you don't wanna get involved with me, squeak" Sukuna says in a playful tone, looking down at you and the way that your body looked so fucking sexy against his
"Oh yeah? And why's that, tough guy?" You volley back at teasing nickname, pressing a finger against his muscular chest, his shirt already pretty much unbuttoned
"Hah... 'Cause I've got tattoos older than you" The pink-haired man mumbles in your ear, alcohol and expensive cologne flooding your nose as well as heat pooling into your face and dick. Sukuna moved away from your ear and let go of your face, positioning his arm above you and not only showing off his buldging muscles, but also emphisising the very tattoos he was referencing; FOR FUCKS SAKE HE WAS SO HOT.
So... Against your better judgment, that night you decided to live a little. In the very same bathroom, after making out for another solid ten minuets, allowing the man you had only just learnt the name of to ravage your mouth and roam his hands around your body, you dragged the hunk into a stall. Luckily for you, this club was very well known for being a little more tolerant to people enjoying themselves in the bathroom, ergo you were on your knees in front of Sukuna within seconds; drunkenly roaming your hands across his thick thighs and rubbing your head against his inner thigh and crotch - your hands landing on the sexy man's zipper and belt buckle very quickly. From what you remember, and from what the smug man had recounted to you the morning after, you gave that man the sloppiest head in the world in that stall, his hands gripping your hair and forcing you to deepthroat kinda head; and you ended your night in his apartment, having fucked at least twice judging by the bite marks and hickeys on your body and Sukuna's. Having woke up in a strange apartment didn't faze you as much as it should have, what really shocked you was the amount of scratch marks you somehow left on the muscular man's enormous, muscular back! But anyway, you went on your merry way home after not being able to deal with the pink-headed man's cocky attitude about you putting out; but damn, this time, you really couldn't stop thinking about him!
Which takes us back to the present moment. Loud white-girl music was currently blasting through your eardrums, and after singing along and dancing with your friends, you found yourself trying to spot a certain someone; a tatted-up, muscular, older someone. With whatever substance was in your system at the moment, you make your way to the bar and order another drink, just waiting for Sukuna to turn up like he always did; the man could deny taking a liking to you all he wanted, but he was always the one who approached you on nights like this. Your plan goes accordingly, the muscular man had sneaked an arm around your waist and whispered some dirty talk in your ear already, and after some boring chat and minute flirting you both started to get riled up. After some dancing and making out on the dancefloor, Sukuna called you both a cab. You said 'bye' to your friends and made your way over to the pretty damn fancy car which the older man had called, and after a short journey to his apartment complex (which you two spent sloppily and desperately making out in the backseat) you both made your way inside.
The horny man immediately took control of the situation, Sukuna's muscular arms either wrapping around your body and holding you against the tall man, or roaming your hot, sexy body; it was no secret that the pink-haired man was a big fan of the way you looked, he'd never say it out-loud though, unless his walls had crumbled due to an oncoming orgasm. Dominating your mouth and body, the older man holds you in his arms, your legs around his sluttily small yet muscular waist and your arms around his thick, veiny neck. Eventually, the two of you end up on Sukuna's king-sized bed, the muscular man above you, showing off his ripped body, his sexy scars and tattoos; god damn he was so hot, just oozing confidence and dominance wordlessly. By the time you were both naked, Sukuna's thick, masculine fingers were already inside of you; spreading you out and curling into your prostate as the man hovers above you and watches you wiggle around and let out the smallest of grunts in pleasure. Sukuna fucking loves to finger you, watch and listen to you as your pleasure is fully in his control, his dick gets so hard at your actions; hell, Sukuna sometimes even gives your twitching, hard dick a couple of licks just to push you closer and closer to ecstasy. But of course, as cliche as one can be, Sukuna rarely lets you cum from his fingers and tongue alone, removing his fingers instantly if he catches you arch your back; something he's learned indicates your orgasm approaching quickly.
Without easing in at all, Sukuna likes to wrap his hands around your waist and shove his massive dick inside of you; bottoming out straight away, 'cause why would he need to be gentle after prepping you for so long? Such a cunt. The sigh which follows is always one that the two of you like to remember, just raw lust and desperation as the two of you fuck like rabbits; Sukuna thrusting his hips violently against your ass, ramming his dick against your gummy walls and prostate. The sounds which circle the older man's apartment are nothing less than erotic and vulgar - your whines and moans along with breathy gasps of Sukuna's name, skin slapping and panting, and Sukuna's rough grunts as he puts in all of his effort to fuck you ruthlessly; the man getting off on the way you look and sound from his rough pace. The muscular man fucking you can also last a solid while, which luckily for you means you get to experience plenty of different positions - yayyyy.... your poor fucking ass. From doggy, to missionary, to a full fucking nelson, Sukuna loves either to get his dick deeper inside of your tight, warm hole, or to be able to see you at different angles, struggling to keep up with the tattooed man. And by the time Sukuna is finally on the brink of shooting his thick cum inside of you, you've already came twice; your body twitching from every thrust of Sukuna's, and your eyes dripping tears down your cheeks and rolling back, which just turns the man on even further.
Just as he is normally, Sukuna is rough as fuck when he cums. His hands gripping your body tighter or his arms holdings you closer to his muscular body as the man moans your name ruggedly, biting and marking your body as his hips stutter as he keeps thrusting into you - coating your ass with his warm spunk. It's only during his orgasm or during the afterglow when Sukuna finally lets a few nice words slip past his lips, compliments of your body or face, or endearing nicknames contrasting his dirty talk from before - i.e. calling you a fucking slut and grunting in your ear how your body is begging for his huge dick. And it's as Sukuna recovers from the aftershocks of his violent orgasm that he admires you, kneeling on the bed above you and between your legs, his massive build on full display as the man pants and sweats just, simply, looking at you. His hands rub up and down your body, massaging your aching muscles as you lay on the soiled sheets, your body still twitching and your eyes still clearly hazy with lust. Your body covered in his cum and yours, Sukuna's cum leaking out of your asshole as you pant in a moanish tone, your body limp and sweaty; cockdrunk was the perfect word to describe you in this moment. The sight is enough to get Sukuna to crave a second round, but he holds back, for once thinking about you - however the small signs of empathy displayed by Sukuna couldn't hold back his sharp tongue no matter what.
"Looks like you got a thing for older guys or somethin', darl'"
You giggle, unable to respond from the pleasure still assaulting your body, but the cocky and smug comment from the man who just rearranged your guts was somewhat sweet in the moment. And that's why you keep coming back. Sure, the sex is killer and you don't stop thinking about Sukuna's dick. But you also enjoy the moments after, from the moment the man stops shooting his load, to the moment you have to leave the morning after - you feel comfortable, somehow. And on the flip-side, Sukuna can't deny that he's for some reason taken a liking to you. He is the one that keeps coming over to you in the club and the one that calls the cab, so he must like you a little, right? The man can't say that he doesn't enjoy waking up next to you in the morning, your body perfectly against his, your sharp wit when you two banter, and the sex is so fucking good! Guess you two will be stuck in a game of cat n mouse for a while, cause neither of you is leaving any time soon; it's up to one of you to take the next step for the other and at the very least put a label on the two of you, whether that be 'weirdly close friends with benefits' or 'lovers'
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s3thwrit3sstuff · 11 months
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❝ I WANT THE YOU WHO WANTS ME AGAIN ❞
Gojo Satoru x male!reader | angst, unrequited love, arranged marriage, some comfort, in the end, | wc: 4.5 K | not proofread
warnings: death of a parent through sickness (unspecified), cheating (gojo with geto), r! goes through it (lmao), megumi is rooting for r!
masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's
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Perhaps at one point in your arranged marriage, you had loved Satoru but that’s all but vanished away when you see how he looked at Geto. Still, you provide comfort to your husband when he seeks you even if his six eyes (and soul) all bear to you that he does not see you. Satoru realizes too late that he cares for you - that he loves you. He despises your empty stare, he wants you back. He desperately wants you back.
authors note: i know i said i was taking a break but writing this made me feel a little bit better — cathartic almost. it's been in the drafts since last year anyways so might as well. (autumn leaves by bts inspired fic)
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It seemed as though even the clouds were pitying the sight before it. Grey and darkened, they gathered to block the sun as whispers of doubt combed through the trees surrounding the temple — they reach your ears despite the attempts of your mother. "Now, don't you look handsome". She tucks a stray lock of your hair behind your ear, pursing her lips at the look in your eyes. "(Y/N)". Her hands grasp at your face. The warmth of someone's hands on your cheek jitters your brain awake, and your pupils contract back into focus. "Have you been eating well, darling?" For a moment, your heart squeezes at her kind words. It's been so long since another had asked you that question so sincerely. The tears well but your hair sways as you shake your head, urging your cheeks to form a smile. "I'm alright, mom. Just getting over a cold". She brushes her thumb over your cheek then presses a kiss to your forehead. "My son". You're pulled into an embrace and suddenly you're little again — clinging to her after she had bandaged you up from your training session. Your eyelashes darkened as tears slip past them, hands trembling as you grip her tightly. "My beautiful son". Eventually, the sun sets but the rain continues to pour. The sounds of the raindrops are violent, accompanied by flashes of lightning and thunder it seemed as though the Gods were angry. Angry Gods do little to scare your father. He gazes at you coldly from where your head is laid upon your mother's lap. Defiantly, you avoid meeting his eyes as you relish in the fingers smoothing out your hair. "Your husband will not be pleased with this," your mother's glare is reproachful. "Our son has come to pay us a visit, his husband needn't worry about him," his nostrils flare and he looks as though he's about to go on another rant about image, expectations, manners, servitude. But before he could, the shoji door slides open. It's one of the servant girls, her bow immaculate you could see the swirl pattern of her hair growth. "Gojo Satoru has arrived, Master (L/N)" She's addressing your father, you know because you are now Master Gojo. The air is filled with expectations. The rain does little to muffle it. Pitying her back, you rise from your mother's lap. "Inform my husband I'll be out in a moment" She bows deeper and straightens her composure to slide the door close but freezes as you address her. "Is my husband alone?" When her mouth opens to form the syllables of Geto Suguru your eyes turn to the floor. You're unsure if she's finished her sentence but find very little fucks to give as you silence her with raise of your hand. Wordlessly, she bows and closes the door.
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"Ah, husband!" he slings his arm around your shoulder. His weight, his warmth, his presence — too casual it's an insult. You cared little for tradition, scoffing at it sometimes, but the way Satoru displays himself in front of your parents causes you to grit your teeth. Suguru shoes are in the peripheral of your vision, you will your gaze to the side.
Once upon a time, the four of you were friends. Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and you.
Those blue summers and warm winters as first-year sorcerers. Memories so bright and heartfelt others probably only see on movie screens. Then you were betrothed to Gojo Satoru, family stuff, expectations and duty, and everything the both of you roll your eyes at. A part of you had been elated. Blinded by the idea of marrying the boy your heart beats for. Sure, falling in love would have been preferred but despite the arranged marriage, you were thick as thieves. So, in your foolish daydreams, you'd sigh at the idea of you two falling in love. Shoko could only watch as your dreams crumble before you. She tried her best to be some sort of support — shocked when she spotted you smoking her cigarettes after a year into the marriage. "I never noticed the way they look at each other". Your words follow the stream of smoke and Shoko settles next to you with her elbows placed on the railings. "I mean, I knew but I just thought...I just thought he'd look at me the same one day". She is silent as you curl over the railing, shoulders jerking with silent sobs. "How foolish, huh?" She places a hand on your back, saying nothing as you wept.
Suguru greets your parents with more tact than your husband who is smiling ear-to-ear. "How was your mission, Gojo, Geto?" the way their surnames sounded made your jaw ache as you continued locking your jaw. Your husband is squeezing you to his side, like a friend. Satoru feels your shoulders stiffening and he loosens his grip to look down at you but you slip out from under him and hastily walk towards the car. "Young Master —" a servant gasps as he attempts to match your pace, the umbrella he holds barely shielding you as you feel your tears mix with the rain. "(Y/N)!" Suguru calls, catching up to you with his own umbrella and you feel searing guilt stab at your chest. Suguru had never been mean to you — he's been there for you through the years and despite your sudden avoidance of him here he was trying to ensure you remained dry. A clap of thunder muffles your sob, the only mercy the Gods are giving you, and you will yourself to pass Suguru. The car door is slammed shut in Suguru's face and before he can wonder the driver is driving off. He stands in shock, the servant that had been chasing you sharing his expression. Satoru tilts his head, hands in his pockets as he Suguru gives him a look of apprehension once he reaches him. Your parents — his in-laws — are apologizing. More so your mother. Your father's anger is palpable despite his puckering lips. "We'll get you another car, Gojo, Geto" your father calls for his personal driver
Satoru’s eyes — with that bright, heavenly, blue that put the sky to shame — linger on the fading signature of your aura. Suguru’s bangs stick to his forehead due to the rain and the sight of him alone has Satoru tear his gaze away. They land on Suguru who offers a furrow of his brows and so Satoru reaches to wipe the wetness away.
“Hey!” the action is rough, anything but romantic. Suguru feels like a cat being pet too roughly — with their skin stretching back and eyes growing wide — and so he smacks Satoru's hands away.
Friendly. Playful. Banter. Boys being boys.
Your mother squints her eyes nonetheless. She had heard that Satoru had been less than willing to marry. Her husband had thought it was his hubris but bowed until his forehead met the floor of the Gojo clan’s home. Their name was no laughing matter — a strong line of curse users much like the Zenin’s.
But Gojo Satoru was sought after by many the second he turned 16 — the marriage proposals flooded in like a tsunami.
He refused them all. Except the (L/N)'s.
She had thought it was the dowery. Perhaps, even the fact that an alliance would soothe whatever ill tides their clans had once had. Or maybe it really was just a stroke of luck her son got along so well with Satoru while attending Jujutsu High (her husband had enrolled (Y/N) only when he heard whispers of Satoru attending).
But fear gripped her heart as Suguru tugged on Satoru’s ear.
Had he accepted...just so he could remain close to his true love?
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“I’m sorry”. You pause the wiping motion, delicately lifting your head as your mother’s cloudy gaze floats aimlessly in the room. You were used to her nonsensical speeches, her random bursts of conversations and weepy apologies. It's been a year since the sickness unexpectedly came over her and you suppose that is what most people do when they’re close to death's door. Confessions of this and that just shooting out in a weak attempt to right old wrongs.
“Nothing to be sorry for, mother”. She places a hand over yours and squeezes. How frail. When has your mother looked so frail?
“Come home, be a (L/N) again”, confusion contorts your face. “Mother, whatever you’ve heard is all unfounded. Rumours. Father has dealt with them”, despite her fragility her fingers squeeze your wrists so tightly it forces your own to release the damp cloth.
“Then say that to me. Look into my eyes and tell me that bastard husband of yours is better than mine, that he’s not off loving another while you rot here”.
Colour bleeds into those lifeless eyes. She feels that same squeeze she felt when she saw Satoru wipe away the rain from Suguru’s skin rather than your tears just a year ago.
Just as quickly as they appear, that dullness returns in your eyes and she reaches to hold your face but you stand.
“Father is cheating on you?”
She’s lost you.
You walk to dip the cloth into the bowl, and your shoulders are too heavy for a 17-year-old boy. Her precious son, so forlorn and withdrawn; humiliated by the society he was in for being inadequate and unworthy.
Perhaps she deserved those titles, sick and bedridden and dying, it was no surprise that her husband is seen courting younger ladies. But not you, not her son.
“He’s no shame, you know your father. His pride comes before all”. It elicits a dry chuckle from you.
Then you suppose Satoru had more in common with your father than you knew.
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The Star Plasma vessel incident, you can't believe it's been a year.
A year after that man that killed that Amanai and Kuroi and Satoru.
You remembered dropping to your knees as he admitted it out loud with such an ugly smile, shaking your head in disbelief as anger swelled within you.
Before you could even think, even grieve and rage, Geto had beaten you to it. As you looked at him with his anger so visceral it came off of him in waves you felt your torn heart crumble into pieces. It felt good to dish out that anguish on Fushiguro Toji even if you ended up eating dirt.
“Wasn’t he your husband?” Toji placed his foot on your neck. “Damn, he treats you that badly or something? This freak put up a better fight”, that day you had surprised Toji by smiling with your teeth all bloody.
“He did, didn’t he?” Your laughter bubbles and you choke on your own blood.
Toji knocked you out after a scoff.
That still wouldn’t have killed you as much. The torn pieces of your heart were still salvageable.
But then.
Then.
As Satoru came back. Warm and alive. Bloody but grinning. He did not race to you, he did not even look at you. To his credit, he simply stood there with his arms wide open.
But then.
Then.
Geto’s the one to race into them.
Ah.
Right.
Shoko was shocked to see you in her smoking spot. She hadn’t even seen you as Satoru was whisked away by the Gojo clan, only spotting Suguru following along. None had wondered where Satoru's husband was; Suguru was always next to him, so there was no void that one could spot.
“Are you alright?”
The darkness in your eyes makes her flinch.
You were dead.
She’s been around enough of death and you were dead.
Your once warm, cheerful, eyes now devoid of anything.
She held you as you cried, not knowing what more she could say to help you.
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“Leave me alone”, Satoru is under the covers. He has been for days now.
Grieving.
Grieving Geto.
“Husband”, you coax. It was once a funny joke. The laughter you shared as the both of you exchanged formal titles of your marriage. It hurt to know that it truly was a joke for Satoru - not for you.
Satoru grits his teeth. His eyes were rimmed red, he himself was surprised they weren’t swelled up. His throat was scratchy, his skin uncomfortable and untended from his refusal to get up. His hair was tousled, unkept and disarrayed. It's been a week since Geto's betrayal and Satoru had been laid in your bed, burying himself under the blankets and deeper into the mattress; as if determined to be buried with his sadness and anger.
“Husband," he feels your hands on his shoulder. You know him by his shape alone. If you closed your eyes you could trace the curves that made up Satoru; even if it killed you slowly, your love was a loyal curse.
“Don’t call me that!” he raises in a grand move. The covers flew and his voice was in a yell. His glare was spine-chilling but they faltered as he saw the outfit you were.
“What should I call you then, Satoru?”
He takes you in, frowns deepening at the awful way his name sounds as you call for him. Not like his Suguru; his one and only.
“What the hell are you wearing, (Y/N)?”
He feels awful as you answer: “Funeral garbs. My mother has passed”.
There’s some satisfaction that paints your features as he is rendered speechless.
“What? How?”
“She was sick”. As he sits there with nothing to say you move to kneel in front of him. Your touch shocks him to reality. He pulls his shirt down, hoping you haven’t seen the hickeys Suguru had left on him before he decided to massacre that village.
You had. You’ve seen all of it. The lingering scent of Geto on his clothes, the hair ties on his wrist, the love bites that mottle his pale skin. Satoru may have those six heavenly eyes but he seemed so blind when it came to you.
The way he grimaces each time you’ve said his name now.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ll help you wash up, Gojo”. He’d be an idiot to have not noticed that switch. Guilt is seeded into him. He stops your hands but you move them with a robotic stubbornness.
“Stop — Wait —”
“I know, Gojo.”
Silence drapes the room.
Your hands carefully thumb into his heart and cover the seed of guilt with such care Satoru’s pulse doubles its speed.
“I know you love him. So very much. I know, because when I go to clan meetings, my cousins whisper behind my back of the two of you holding hands and going on dates. When you come back late after a mission to go to Geto’s room. Or when you suddenly have Geto’s marks on you and yours on him”.
“(Y/N) — ”
“But this is my mother, Gojo”.
Your voice wavers just as he clutches your wrists in his hands. Your head hangs as your shoulders jerk up and down, twisting and squirming so you can help Satoru clean and dressed.
You know he was in pain and your heart feels for him. He needs your help. You were willing to strip down so you could wash him, and get back into this disgustingly heavy robe all over again despite how nauseating it was to do it the first time.
Funny. You can’t recall ever being one with Satoru. Your marriage was never consummated — he told you that there was no rush, you were still kids. What did he tell Geto then? Did he tell him that he had never taken you in bed? Was he fervent in his worship of him? Was their love akin to a religion? Did they worship each others temples like devout monks? How funny. The first time you’d get to see him naked and him you would be the day of your mothers funeral.
“She was my mother, Satoru!”
He has never heard you yell before. Satoru is struck by the that revelation.
It’s been a year since he was officially titled your husband and he knew you longer than that. But this was the first time he’s seen you in despair. Heard your yell.
Seen you cry.
“Please, I know he was your one and only but she was my mother. Please, please, don’t let me face this alone, Gojo”
“(Y/N)...”
“Please, Gojo...”
Your wrists slip away from his loosened grip. Crumpling onto the floor, your forehead meets the floor and his feet as your beg.
"(Y/N)". How long had your mother been sick? Why didn't you tell him — or did you? Why couldn't he remember? As his mind races to collect any memory of this past year, your tears that wet his feet water that guilt.
Satoru says nothing as the both of you appear at the funeral. The haughty eyebrows and curled lips sting more when he's there — was it shame? This burning feeling in your chest? Had you said too much to Satoru? Now he was acutely aware of how others looked at you, at your marriage. How awful.
Satoru is not used to this feeling. As a child, the eyes that lingered on him were hungry for the prize of beheading him. That had been more comfortable than this.
This was scrutinizing. They gazed on you with pity, even with his body attempting to shield you, the whispers reach your ears anyways. Have you been doing this all alone? All those clan meetings that you went to alone, the ones he'd excuse himself from saying he had a mission while he spent the day with Suguru to make him eat more and attempt to nurse him back to his side from the Star Plasma vessel incident.
Suguru had wept to him, telling him how terrified he'd been at the thought of Satoru leaving him. Why didn't you come to him? No. Why hadn't he noticed you?
The ride back home was silent. Satoru couldn't believe your father had brought his bride-to-be to the ceremony, you quelled his anger by muttering that your mother had given her blessing for their marriage.
You're staring out the window. Had those bags always been under your eyes? When did your cheeks get so sunken in? Had you...had you lost weight? He ignores the way your fingers twitch as he places his hand over yours. Your skin feels foreign — so does his. He offers a purse of his lips, sliding his hand up your arm and leaning in to embrace you.
But freezes as you pull your hand away.
"Don't force it upon yourself, Gojo". "Husband —" his smile falls as your shoulders tighten, lower lip quivering. "Please don't make me beg again, Gojo."
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"What do you think, beloved?" Gojo grins brightly, bouncing his brow up and down. You were seated across from him in some cafe — he had been telling you all about how good the crepes here was a week before. "About...?" He pouts and places his elbows on the table. "My theory?" He watches as you blink, once, twice, then a faux smile climbs on your face. You turn your attention back to the melting ice cream. "Your theory about Okkotsu cursing Rika because of his love for her?" He nods vigorously. "It makes sense, right? His curse technique activating after seeing that brutal sight, it binding Rika to him". "Afterall, love is the most powerful curse", you said. Gojo's animated hand motions pause. He places his hand back onto the table. He reaches for your hand and you squeeze your eyes shut but allow it. He hates this.
Not you — He doesn't hate you. But he hates this.
After your mothers funeral, he looked through pictures. As first year students, all sunny smiles and bright eyed. The smiles got more tame as the four of you aged. His hands slung around Suguru's more tightly — even after they bared matching rings.
Satoru's never seen you smile like that anymore.
He brushes his thumb over your knuckles. Your jaw clenches.
"I love you, my beloved".
"...Thank you, Gojo".
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"It's been awhile, Satoru".
No. No, no, no.
Nononononononnonononononononononononono —
Gojo can't take his eyes away from Suguru.
He tries and tries and tries but he can't. Pinned by his onyx gaze alone.
Satoru's ring burns viciously and he curls his fingers into fists.
Meanwhile, your dead-eyed gaze seemed to intensify. Everything is muffled, it felt like you were underwater. It felt like you were 17 years old again.
Abandoned. Unworthy. Unloveable. In love. Always have been. Always will be. In love with a man that was never yours.
"(Y/N), you look pale", Suguru condenscends. At least, that's what it sounds like.
Hah. Was he envious? Did he think that in the years he's been gone, you've filled the void he left? Or did he know that you never did but he was jealous anyways?
Fuck, Satoru thinks. His temples feel taut as his teeth grit together.
Kento steps infront of you and your eyes widen by an inch.
How pathetic, Gojo (Y/N). An underclassmen protecting you from your husbands ex-lover's gaze.
Why couldn't Geto Suguru just die already.
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"What are you doing?" Gojo is grieving again. You should be elated but you're not. It feels too cruel. It wasn't your doing, you hadn't had any hand in killing Geto Suguru but a part of you wondered if your inner thoughts had been a wish you put out to the world. Now, Gojo was without Geto and Geto's daughters were without their father.
So you felt guilt anyways.
It was more feasible competing for Satoru's affections when his lover was simply exiled. How could you compete with a ghost?
"I'm praying for him", you replied. Gojo watches as you prepare to do so, kneeled on the floor. His eyes are rimmed with red again and he knows you've heard his cries; so here you are, sacrificing your happiness again for him.
"You don't have to do that, beloved". You say nothing as your eyes are closed in prayer. Satoru kneels behind you, his guilt had 10 years to grow and now it was a willow tree, with its leaves sweeping the lake of tears it grew from. Your eyes flutter open as you feel his head in the junction of your neck and shoulder; he fit so perfectly there, just like you knew he would. He's crying into your shoulder and your hand reaches back to card through the shaved sides of his hair. Your fingers lightly brushing the shell of his ear makes him shudder and he circles your waist to pull you against him. "Don't pity me, Gojo". He says nothing and neither do you.
"Say my name". His voice so close to your ear has you shivering.
"Gojo".
He shakes his head.
"My name, please, please, just say it".
Your heart clenches and as you close your eyes a tear slips past.
"I can't replace him, Gojo". He squeezes you tighter.
"I'm not asking you to replace him. No one can replace Suguru. I don't want them too, I don't want you too; I want you".
"I don't believe you".
He laughs, the slightest brush of his teeth on your skin has your stomach twisting into knots. Your breath trembles and you squirm in his hold, twisting away and getting onto your feet to get away from him. He doesn't allow you to. He blocks your way, shaking his head as he holds your shoulders next.
"I want you, (Y/N). I love you —"
How long have you wanted to hear those words. Your heart wants nothing more than to soar. But your brain knows better. "No, no, no, let me go". He doesn't let you. Satoru wraps his arms around you and your mouth opens to let out yells, fists pounding onto his chest as you try to get away from him.
"I hate you! You fucking bastard! I hate you, I loathe you!"
Satoru holds you firmly agaisnt him. Holding the back of your head preciously as he finally hears your voice raised above that whispering tone. "I hate you! I hate you so much! Why do you keep doing this to me!? I — I just wanted you, Satoru!" Your voice breaks and your sobbing turns into wailing. His heart squeezes, chest physically hurting as you sob and yell.
"I wanted you, Satoru! I just wanted you!" "Why didn't you love me, Satoru!?" Thunder rumbles and as your yells quiet down into hiccups, rain muffles it.
"I'm sorry, (Y/N)". He feels your knees give out and he holds you, making you lean against him for support. "I'm so sorry, my beloved. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, (Y/N)".
When he tucks you in to rest, he isn't surprised Megumi is standing in the doorway with his eyes set into a glare. Satoru wipes your tears away, sweeping some of your hair away before placing a kiss on your forehead. He raises to answer Megumi's burning questions.
"You heard?"
"I'm not deaf".
Megumi has his arms crossed. He was an observant boy. Being raised by both Satoru and you — he notices the overexuberant Satoru's confidence wavering every time you give him smiles that never reach your eyes. Tsumiki even told him once that she finds it sad, how you both seem to be so familiar but foreign to each other.
"But one time I did see (Y/N) get flustered because of Satoru", she told Megumi whilst on their way back from school. He looked ahead, sipping on his drink as a prompt for Tsumiki to continue. "It was during breakfast. (Y/N) woke up a little late because he was traveling around for clan meetings and missions. So he was panicking so much, he burnt our rice and stuff! But then, Satoru walks in and tells him he prepared our bento. He kept it in the fridge. All that was needed to do was heat it up, he helped (Y/N) the entire time and then he just — "
Tsumiki kisses the air with a loud 'mwah!'
"He plants a kiss right on (Y/N)'s forehead. (Y/N) was so flustered he just stared down at the sink. It was cute, he's definitely still in love, they both are!"
Megumi peeks into the room. The sliver of light on your peaceful expression highlights the content curl of your lips despite the swollen eyes you bore.
"...Don't mess up this second chance", Megumi warns. He turns and marches away while Satoru huffs, scratching the back of his head as he sighs. "I wasn't planning to". He really does love you. He does. He loves you, from the ends of your hair to the tip of your fucking toes; he loves —loved, Suguru too. But this is different, you're different. But his love isn't any less or more.
He loves you.
Whatever it takes, he'll make sure you know it until his last breath.
2K notes · View notes
marksbear2 · 2 months
Note
Um. Sure. Suguru Geto x top male reader because why not
SUGURU GETO X TOP MALE READER
⚠️Warnings- power bottom Suguru, smut headcanons, edging, orgasm torture, riding, kinky, blowjob and handjob. And more. ⚠️
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— He’s very soft spoken during sex, he’d the type of guy to moan closely to your es making sure that you can hear him.
— Pulling and tugging his his hair is an major turn on for him. He doesn’t even try to hide it.
— He prefers taking it from the back, giving you easy freedom space for you could thrust and move freely.
— If your bodies are pressed closely together he’d kiss all over your neck and shoulders trailing up to your jaw and ear before kissing your lips finally.
— He teases you if your being to gentle on him.
— He would randomly throughout the day giving you an handjob edging you throughout the day.
— Though your the top in the relationship he still likes to take charge and be the dominant one.
— Him having very sensitive nipples.
— He could cum untouched just by you playing with his nipples, for example you licking, sucking and biting onto them.
— Torturing your cock by him not letting you cum until he came at least two or more times.
— He’s completely fine with you and Gojo having an threesome together. Though he was hesitant to ask but he gets the courage to do so.
— Or Shoko if you want, or all there’s friends. Suguru, Satoru and Shoko laying on the backs waiting patiently for you to decide who to fuck first.
— He likes playing with your cock in his mouth.
— You two taking turns sucking each other off. It’s become an regular couple thing you two do.
— Fucking him as he wear his robes.
— Having blood sex, the blood of his latest murder on his and clothes as you thrust your cock deep inside him. His bloody hands smearing against your shoulders and neck.
— He lowkey gets jealous whenever ‘Monkeys’ a you are around them, which leads into lots of jealousy sex.
— Whenever he was mentally spiraling, whenever you got to visit him you two would just lay naked for skin to skin contact cuddling without words, but your presence was enough for him.
— He loves riding you, it’s another way he loves torturing your cock. He bounces on your cock which movement faster than the last.
— H we takes your hands and guide them up his body like his exposed belly and chest and soon enough his neck making you choke him.
— He’s open to exploring things. Whatever kinks you like or desires he’s open to exploring into them and learning about it.
— You awoken his breeding kink.
— He loves your cum leaking out of his overflowed hole, it turns him on so much he considers never letting wear an condom again.
— He likes talking you through while you fuck him. Telling you how he wants it and how fast.
— His eyes are so captivating during it, as if he was an siren.
— Eyes of desire and lust, each glance of his eyes are saying unspoken words of desire.
THE END
313 notes · View notes
blitzyn · 7 months
Text
prospect
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toji fushiguro x m!reader
request: none
a/n -> sighs and explodes i need this man injected in my blood right NOW. nobody will be able to convince me that this man doesn’t have a breeding kink. sometimes i forget im writing for real people on a real platform and it jump scares me when people comment on my work. but in a good way ofc i love seeing people’s thoughts on my stuff. ANYWAYS. REQS.
wc -> 4.7k words of filth LMAO
cw -> anal fingering, anal sex, spit as lube, throat fucking, using “pussy” and “cunt” as a synonym, mild impact play, breeding kink, mirror sex, finger hooking, bondage, begging, brief gun play, when i say “little” i mean that in a condescending sorta way and not bc the reader is described to be petite and tiny, not beta read obv
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"You're a tricky one, I'll give you that," is the first thing the man before you said. It'd been quite a while since the first time the two of you met in a dingy bar hidden in the sketchier parts of town. He hadn't been trying to kill you then - he was but a fellow patron eager to ruin his liver. Originally, he had a strange gut feeling about you. Like a pretty thing like you wasn't all it seemed, but he shrugged it off after a well-placed look from you offering to buy a couple more rounds.
So when he's given another job, the first thing he does is laugh. He didn't really mean it at first, but really, the irony was hilarious. The guy he nearly got to fuck was his current target: [Name] [L.Name], a rising Jujutsu Sorcerer. He obviously wasn't as strong as the esteemed Gojo Satoru or Geto Suguru, but he was advancing a little faster than many would've liked.
"Thanks. I tried," you replied, seeming much too relaxed for a man about to be assassinated. You were currently stuck on the floor with your arms tied behind your back and your legs bound together by plain, old, ordinary rope. You were a little embarrassed, truthfully, to have been caught by such a mundane trap like this.
You struggled against your restraints a bit, sighing in defeat when you only served to remind yourself just how stuck you were. "These are pretty secure," you started, giving the man before you a laidback smirk. "You experienced?"
Toji gave you a quizzical look for a moment before breaking out in an amused grin, resting his handgun against his shoulder. He definitely wasn't expecting his target to start flirting with him instead of pleading for his life like he was used to. But he'll entertain you for a while. "You could say that."
You huffed through your nose, your eyes lazily flitting around the room. You were making your way back inside the abandoned building you chose to hide in when you suddenly found yourself tied up. It took you a moment to realize you couldn't move when he appeared in front of you, but even less to recognize him as the man you almost got to sleep with. "I would've loved to have you tie me up back then, but this wasn't really what I was thinking about."
"Your phone's a real cockblock, huh?" He chuckled lightly, in an almost mocking manner from what you managed to detect in his voice. "Can't even begin to imagine how long you've had to go without gettin' laid."
You rolled your eyes like he wasn't only there to kill you and get his money. "Don't get me started. There's always something new I have to kill every fuckin' second. My boss thinks it's great training to go out whenever I can."
Right. Technically, you weren't a fully-fledged Sorcerer. You had more of a vigilante-esque vibe to you. You hadn't attended either Jujutsu High School in Tokyo or Kyoto as well, only taught by your family and experiences. Not that that really mattered anyway. You fought, you got strong, and now someone put a hit on you.
You sighed, shifting your body to a more comfortable position before tilting your head back against the wall. “This is the part where I beg for my life, right?” You questioned rhetorically, with an almost bored expression on your face before your eyes lit up with an idea. “I’m not too good at that, but I am good at begging for something else.”
Toji raised an eyebrow in intrigue, unable to fight off the grin at the obvious implication. He didn’t stop you from shamelessly checking him out, but he cut your ogle session short regardless.
“Yeah? Care to elaborate?” He made his way closer, crouching in front of you to get a better view of your face. He knew what you were asking for. He just wanted to know if you’d follow through with it.
Maybe it was the adrenaline making you bold, knowing that he could easily kill you with the pull of a trigger—or maybe it was just because he was really fucking hot. With a quick, obvious glance to his crotch (you could see the imprint of his dick through his sweatpants), you spoke clearly. “I want you to fuck me.”
He liked how forward you were, how unafraid you were to say what you wanted. He swiped his tongue over his lips and nearly laughed at how your eyes darted downwards to watch it. “You call that beggin’?” He taunted, raising his arm to press the tip of his gun against your chin to tilt your head up. “Do it right.”
A shudder ran through your body at his demand, leaving a trail of heat that settled right into your groin. You felt hyper aware of everything—of the cool metal on your skin, of the faint gunpowder scent emanating from the barrel, of your heartbeat thrumming so hard you briefly wondered if he could hear it.
“Oh, please, Mr. Fushiguro,” you whined, staring up at him through your lashes pleadingly. You tried to squeeze your thighs together as you squirmed, attempting to provide your hardening dick friction. “Please fuck me. I’ve been thinking about this whole time. I need it so much.”
“Well, aren’t you a confident little thing,” he remarked with a thoughtful hum, carefully inspecting your reactions. “But what makes you think I won’t just kill you and get my money?”
“Because you haven’t yet,” you replied with a smug undertone in your voice, like you figured him all out. Although, when he dragged his gun up towards your lips, a brief wave of fear washed down your body, settling deep in your chest.
“Really? That’s all you’re going off of?” He tilted his head, watching you through the dark curtain of hair that fell over his piercing eyes. “That’s cute.” He held his finger over the trigger, teasingly flexing it before relaxing just as fast. He found it funny how your confident facade slipped away the moment you remembered that you weren’t talking to a casual friend—that the Sorcerer Killer himself was staring you down the barrel of his gun. But, apparently, that’s what got you all hot and bothered.
“I didn’t think you’d be this desperate.” His scarred lips curled upwards in a predatory grin as he nudged the tip of his gun against your mouth, prying it open. You fought the urge to squirm when he pushed it further, jaw straining, but you tried your best to comply. “You seemed all mysterious ‘n’ unassuming back at the bar. What happened to that? Got me feelin’ like I got the wrong person with the way you’re actin’.”
You tried to shake your head while a garbled noise left your throat, but he kept you firmly in place as he pushed it as far as he could go. Even as you squinted, it was hard not to practically eyefuck him where you sat. Your watery irises trailed over the length of his arm, tracing the bulging veins that patterned over his forearm, dipping back underneath his skin before reappearing in his thick bicep. His shirt did little to hide his chest, squeezing in just the right places to render any woman jealous.
You couldn’t stop your gaze from wandering down, down towards his legs, zeroing in on the dick print he so obviously flaunted like a trophy. Your mouth watered, suddenly finding it hard to swallow. You slid your tongue over the rough metal, imagining that it was his cock stretching your eager throat wide open; imagining the salty taste of his precum, of the scent of his musk, of—
“My eyes’re up here, pretty boy,” he interrupted, pressing the gun up against your palate to snap you out of your stupor and avert your gaze. “If you’re gonna deny bein’ a slut, at least act like it.”
He pulled it out of your drooling mouth, wiping the string of saliva off on your cheek before setting it on the floor with a dull thud. Your face was messy, chest heaving up and down as you panted, expectantly waiting for him to continue like a lost puppy.
“You’re so damn easy,” he commented teasingly, reaching down to palm his cock through his pants. It throbbed under his touch, leaking precum and straining against the fabric. “If I’da known all it took for you to get all nice ‘n’ compliant f’me was a dick down your throat, I’d have my money by now.” There was a hint of honesty to his voice that you couldn’t even find in yourself to protest.
“Please…” you breathlessly whined, trying to writhe out of your binds, but it was tied too tightly around your body to free yourself. “I want it. Stop messing with me.”
“I know.” He reached down to shift you onto your knees, steadying you with a firm hand on the back of your neck. You watched him slide his free hand under his pants to pull his thick cock out, eyes fixated on the leaking tip. He wrapped it around the shaft and leisurely jerked himself off, the wet sounds of his precum sliding along the shaft mixing in with your labored breaths and his quiet groans.
Finally, after what felt like decades, he shuffled forward just enough to press himself against your lips, finding little need to nudge his way inside when you so eagerly parted them for him. You let out a pleased noise at the taste of his precum, beginning to squint and fight the urge to gag when he refused to stop until your nose was buried in his pubes. He held you there for a moment, enjoying the sight of your throat bulging to accommodate his cock.
“You’re takin’ me in so easily,” he purred, sighing in satisfaction at the feeling of your tongue tracing over a prominent vein, making him twitch in your mouth. “Is this what you do? Use your body to live a little longer? 'Cause I gotta say, whatever you're doin' is really payin' off."
You visibly preened at his praise, feeling your dick strain against the fabric of your pants. He let you move at your own pace, watching you hollow your cheeks and slide and bob your head up and down. He was thick and long and made your jaw ache in the best way, utterly infatuated with his scent, with his taste, with the way he let you go at your own pace—but you knew better. You knew that he could easily take that control away from you and fuck your face.
You kind of wished he did, honestly.
With a bit of effort, you pulled away from his cock, breathing heavily. Your voice was shaky but it was firm, determined to get what you wanted. “Fuck my throat,” you demanded, staring up at him through your lashes. He gave you an intrigued smile, clearly pleased with your eagerness to be used like a toy.
“You sure? ‘Cause I’m not stoppin’ til I cum,” he warned. He hardly gave you enough time to reply before he held the base of his cock, gently tapping the tip against your slick lips to get you to open up wide again, obviously unconcerned with your response. “But if you really insist, then who am I to say no to a pretty thing like you?”
He adjusted his stance, towering over you with both his hands atop your head. He allowed you to take a deep breath before pulling you to him just as he shoved his cock back down your throat. You were still unused to him, nearly choking at the sudden movement, feeling tears pool along your lashes. You could’ve sworn his musk was an actual aphrodisiac. It was all you could smell, filling up your nostrils to render your mind a pathetically fuzzy mess.
“Thaaaat’s it,” he drawled out, staring you down with enough heat in his eyes to practically glue you to the floor. You weren’t even sure if you’d get up and leave if he gave you the chance to. Probably not, frankly. Not with the way his strong hands so easily kept you in place, nor with how he strained your jaw—infatuated with every inch and vein and his salty precum. “Take it all, baby.”
He chuckled to himself, not bothering to hide the condescension in his voice. “But I didn’t need to tell you that, huh? Is this muscle memory takin’ over?” Despite his words, his brows were furrowed, focused on thrusting his hips, stoking the rising fire in his abdomen. His rhythmic groans were music to your ears, mixing in with your wet gags and the faint sound of his balls slapping your chin.
“Fuck,” he panted, taking one hand off to wipe your hair off of your forehead and get a look at your watery, unfocused eyes. It sent a heat down his spine that made his cock jolt at the sight of your blissed out face. “You’re so damn tight… gonna make me cum.”
“Is that what you want?” He grunted, digging his fingertips into your skin. “Y’think it’s what you deserve?” For a moment, you were worried he was going to stop. But he didn’t really, instead he kept you still, holding you at a distance to make sure you didn’t accidentally pass out. “I wanna hear you beg for it.”
You blinked your tears away and looked up at him, squinting, confused when he hadn’t let you go yet. It took you a second to piece together what he wanted of you, and felt the burn of embarrassment trickle down your spine and settle into your chest when you did. He wanted you to beg with his cock in your mouth. You were quiet, unsure how to respond without choking and coughing into next week.
“C’mon,” he persisted, his scarred lips lifting in a grin. “I know a little slut like you can do it.”
With a deep breath, you attempted to get your words out through muffled sounds that very vaguely sounded like sentences. It was humiliating—letting him use you to entertain himself like this, but it was an exhilarating feeling that made your cock twitch and throb, aching to be touched.
“Sorry, what was that?” He questioned mockingly, expression laced with faux concern. “Do you mind repeating that?”
You paused, staring up at him pleadingly, but when that didn’t seem to work, you tried again. Drool seeped out the corners of your lips, trailing down your chin. It was hard to breathe and form coherent thoughts. Your cock throbbed and ached to be touched, finding your pants to be uncomfortably suffocating.
“Was that so hard?” He questioned rhetorically as he tugged your face close again, savoring the feeling of your throat squeezing around his dick before beginning to fuck it. He groaned when he felt you run your tongue over the veins, the vibrations of your voice sending heat through his body that he eagerly chased.
He swore under his breath, panting, focused on the tightening coil in his abdomen. “Shit—I’m about to—fuck—cum.”
You moaned when you felt him still, pressing your face into his pelvis to make sure every drop of his cum went down your throat. It was difficult to swallow, letting your eyes flutter shut until he was finished. Your vision was a bit blurry when he finally decided to pull away, leaving you gasping and panting.
“I want—I need you to fuck me,” you slurred, desire flashing brightly in your eyes. Your voice was raw and hoarse and raspy, but there was no hiding your desperation. “Please. I need it so bad it fucking hurts. Please, Fushiguro.”
“I just got done cumming down your throat and you’re already askin’ for more?” He chuckled condescendingly, reaching out to swipe the pad of his thumb along your chin to gather the mix of saliva cum. He brought it to your lips, watching you wrap them around his finger and suck the fluids off his skin. “You needy whore. You’re lucky I’m not in any rush right now.”
With a swift hand, he untied the rope holding your legs together to lead you to a different spot, confident that you wouldn’t make a break for it. Not that you could nor wanted to, anyways.
The mirror before you was dusty and cracked, but it still served its purpose well. He kicked your legs apart and brought you back down to your knees, lowering himself behind you with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You nearly came on the spot when he squeezed your aching cock, hips jerking needily, but he let go in the blink of an eye to unzip your pants and bring them down far enough to expose your ass. He brought two fingers to your lips and dipped them inside your mouth with his other hand, coating them with your saliva rather haphazardly.
He swiftly brought them back down, running them over your balls and perineum teasingly, grinning at your sharp intake of breath. He slid the pads of them over your hole, just barely pushing them through to feel the resistance give way before pulling them back out.
“I swear to god, I’ll—“ you tried to threaten, only to be cut off by a whorish moan that Toji managed to tear from your lips when he shoved his fingers inside you. They pressed against your prostate, firm and unrelenting, rubbing it just the slightest bit to keep you reeling. The sudden stretch fucking burned as you clamped down on him like a vice, wincing and groaning.
“You’ll what?” He urged, eyes fixated on your face, watching every single muscle twitch, noticing the way your cock spurt a fresh stream of precum down the throbbing shaft. “C’mon, don’t get all shy on me now. What were you saying?”
He thrust his fingers in and out slowly, emphasizing the wet squelching sounds of your asshole. You could feel his breaths brushing against your heated skin, sending shivers up and down your spine that ended in your fingertips. Your knees ached and your arms were growing numb from being tied back for so long but you figured you could ignore it for a little while longer if it meant you’d get what you wanted. His dick, namely.
“I’ll—agh, fuck—I’ll…” you trailed off, hardly able to form a coherent sentence with the way he massaged your prostate so perfectly. “Just… just shut up,” you muttered finally, breathless and unfocused as you stared at the spot you connected from the reflection in the old mirror. A subtle feeling of embarrassment settled in your heaving chest when you heard the raspy sound of his chuckle.
“Is that it?” He taunted, locking eyes with you. His free hand slid upwards, teasing your nipples through your shirt to watch you squirm. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight. I’m startin’ to question whether or not you’re really some hotshot Sorcerer.”
It was hard to refute him when you looked the way you did—all messy and disheveled and desperate, hard for the man supposed to kill you. You were completely unlike yourself hardly half an hour ago, but you barely gave a shit. How could you when the hottest man you’ve ever seen was behind you, fingerfucking your eager hole? Chances like these don’t come often to you, that’s for sure.
You shivered and moaned, leaning back against his chest. Your hips practically moved on their own accord, thighs flexing to keep yourself upright as you tried to fuck yourself on his thick digits. Toji could see the way your eyes unfocused and glossed over with understimulated tears, frustrated and horribly pent-up.
He gave your prostate a quick jab, firm enough to intensify the heated coil in your belly, but too fast to savor. He wasn’t planning on giving in to you so easily as he avoided your sensitive spot, instead moving his fingers in a scissoring motion to stretch you out.
“God—stop doing that,” you pleaded. You felt like an open book, unable to stop yourself from furrowing your eyebrows in annoyance or conceal the painstakingly obvious glint of hunger in your pupil-blown irises.
“Quit whinin’ and maybe I’ll consider it,” he murmured gruffly, enraptured by the way you writhed and squirmed and looked just downright pathetic. You both knew he wouldn’t, not when all the others he’s fucked couldn’t hold a candle to your pliant little body. You knew why he was there in the first place, but still, you remained there on your knees even when he untied them.
You nearly let out a sob when he curled his fingers again, offering you the barest of touches to your prostate that sent liquid fire coursing through your veins.
“Fuck, please,” you begged, yet again. You didn’t know much of this you could take or how long it’d be until he caved. God, was it so much to ask for a man to fuck you stupid?!
“I want your cock inside me so bad, fucking me fast ‘n’ hard ‘n’ deep,” you slurred, hardly able to maintain even the barest shred of dignity. You looked into his deep, green eyes through the mirror’s reflection, hoping he’d relent.
“Yeah? Y’want me in this slutty pussy?” He purred, sliding his slick fingers out of your twitching hole to give it a sharp slap. You jolted just as a spurt of precum slid down your hard cock, leaking onto your clothed, heaving abdomen. He chuckled breathlessly as he leisurely rubbed your puffy rim with the pad of a finger. “You should’ve just said so.”
He wiped his fingers off on the back of your shirt, offering you an oblivious shrug when you glared at him through the mirror. Your knees ached when he had you lean forward a little, placing your more of your weight on the poor joints as he reached down to quickly jerk himself off before tapping the tip of his dick on your asshole one, two, three quick times.
It felt like he was splitting you apart when he finally decided to push through after spitting on your hole, groaning at the way you squeezed around him tighter than a damn virgin. It hurt like a bitch. Of course it did—you made him rush and he was using less than ideal lube, but, God, you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t feel so fucking good.
You watched him lean back a little and hold you by the ropes binding your arms together, rolling his hips experimentally, only to grind his cockhead into your prostate so deliciously you saw stars. A searing heat enveloped your body, blinding you with white that took you far too long to come down from. Opening your eyes (you didn’t even realize you closed them), you instantly spotted your twitching cock drooling cum onto the floor. Fuck. He didn’t even start and you came.
“That was so damn fast.” He couldn’t be bothered to stop the hint of a laugh from leaving his throat. With his free hand, he reached down and gave your throbbing dick a squeeze, stroking it with a tight grip to milk out the rest of your cum.
You shuddered and trembled, biting your lip to stifle your moans. He let go to stuff two of his slick fingers in your mouth, careless with how deep he forced them in. Not that you really minded as you swirled your tongue around his skin, readily cleaning it off. You locked eyes, keeping your expression firm in a weak attempt to regain even a sliver of composure when he suddenly moved, giving you a quick, harsh thrust that nearly knocked the air out of your lungs.
He shifted his fingers, curling them as they pulled on your cheek, tugging at the flesh until he forces your mouth wide open. You couldn’t stop your tongue from lolling out, jaw slack as you drooled and whined and cried every time he rammed his thick cock into your eager fuckhole. He was relentless—pounding into you fast and hard and deep, just like you begged for so prettily.
“Fuuuck,” he groaned, digging his fingertips into the flesh of your hip hard enough to leave bruises, arms flexing to yank you back as soon as he pulled out. “Your pussy’s so damn tight,” he panted, brows furrowed in focus, relishing in the sound of his hips slapping your ass and your whorish moans. “M’gonna make sure your messy little cunt remembers my cock by the time I’m finished with you.”
“Uh-huh, mhm,” you nodded, hands itching to grab onto his biceps, his back, something to ground yourself while he churned your insides to mush. It was nigh impossible to think or breathe or speak, but it felt so fucking good.
“Awh, look at yourself,” he cooed, his voice slightly jumpy as he let go of your mouth to roughly pat your cheek, forcing you out of your stupor to make you stare at your reflection. “Are you out of it already? Should I stop?” He questioned, his raspy voice laced with faux concern.
“No! N-No,” you stammered, finding it difficult to comprehend what he was saying until moments later, alerted by the word “stop”. “Don’t stop! Ohh, oh god, please don’t stop!”
You’re so, so sensitive and so full, and you can feel him losing his rhythm. His cock is heavy in your stomach and you swear through your addled brain it’s weighing you down as a trail of precum connects your heated bodies together, frothing between your thighs and his balls.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he grunted, gritting his teeth. He could feel the burning coil in his abdomen intensify with each passing second, and suddenly he’s speeding up, pistoning into you with loud and sloppy thrusts. His green eyes are locked on your swollen and puffy hole sucking him in with a vice grip, watching his cock slide in and out, in and out, over and over again until you’re cumming hard, shaking and convulsing.
“That’s it,” he growls, the sound low and deep. It went straight into your stomach, sparks lighting up under your skin as your hips jerk, unsure whether you want to endure the building overstimulation or move away. “M’gonna cum so deep inside your pretty little pussy I’ll knock you up,” he murmured in your ear, dragging a canine down your neck to clamp his teeth down on the flesh. “Y’want that? To be my breeding bitch?”
You sobbed, unable to answer, but he didn’t need one. Not when your body spoke for you.
He fucked the air out of your lungs one, two, three more times, feeling his balls tighten until he finally came, spilling his cum so deep inside you, you were sure it’d stay there for weeks. You moaned, savoring the warmth that spread through your body with each spurt of his cum that coated your velvety insides, trying to catch your breath before you had to move.
Toji sighed in satisfaction, pulling out after a few moments. He watched your fucked-out hole clench around nothing as it leaked with his seed, spreading one of your asscheeks to get a better view before giving it a final pat.
You didn’t realize he cut the ropes holding your arms behind your back until you nearly fell face-first onto the floor, catching yourself with your numb hands.
“Ow… fuck,” you cursed at the sharp stinging sensation that ran up your arms, shaking them uselessly in an attempt to restore the blood flow faster.
“You were better than I thought you’d be,” he hummed, getting up to fix his clothes. He grabbed his handgun from off the ground, holding it against his shoulder as he stared you down. “But you have three days. Make ‘em count.”
You weren’t oblivious to know that he was giving you a three-day recovery period before he began hunting you again. Even then, you couldn’t stop the shiver of excitement from running through your spine at the prospect of seeing him again.
You grinned, breathless and shaky but confident nonetheless. It was unlikely he’d fuck you once he found you, but a man could dream. "I will."
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cross-posted on ao3
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sur-i-ki · 8 months
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𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘚𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥?
𝘔𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘪 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
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He won’t lie, he likes you clingy. However, you hadn’t been spending much time with him. Megumi knew that you would be free today. So a scary movie it was. He needed an excuse.
He had called you over and had the movie playing. Your hands were gripping his, knuckles white, and you had them pulled in front of your face. He smiled a little when he realized you were still peeking through them.
“You scared?”
He was being a little mean. He knows you know, as if the quick glare you sent him didn’t speak volumes. Freeing his hands from your death grip, he throws one arm around you. Within a second, your hands were gripping his again, and he couldn’t help but laugh right against your ear, breathy and deep.
When he feels you shiver against him, Megumi has a feeling that the jump-scare on the screen wasn’t the reason.
A few moments pass, and his head is propped up against the wall. During the dialogue scene, you glance over at him.
“Aren’t you scared?”
His eyes slid over to meet your’s. “Hm?”
You huff a little in frustration at his face. “You have no expression on your face. I’m feeling a little silly over here.”
Megumi pulls you closer to him, and your dogs bound onto the bed. Scratching them behind their ears, you continue, “They have more feeling on their face than you.”
Megumi listens quietly, snuggling his face against your neck. The movie continues, and during the next jump-scare, he kisses your neck from behind, effectively distracting you.
Your pulse thunders right against his lips as he feels you tighten your hands around his. As the movie ends, he rubs your shoulders, massaging the tension and fear away slowly.
Once you’ve relaxed against him, he kisses your hair, your neck, your shoulders. He doesn’t notice you and the dogs getting ready to pounce him.
“Rah!” You turn in his arms, throwing your weight against him as the dogs tackle him from the sides. He laughs, falling, as all three of you pepper his face with kisses.
After calming down, he opens his eyes and looks at you. Your hands are holding his face, and he knows there’s a flush in his cheeks as your thumbs graze it.
“There we go. Much better.”
Pulling you to lay down on him, he sighs. With you hugging him tightly, he knows you’re gonna spend the night because you’re scared. You’re clingy.
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⇝ 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥! 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯
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btdemaru · 1 year
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Brat taming - sukuna
[Top!sukuna x Bottom!GN!reader]
note : sukuna has two cocks you can't tell me otherwise.
warning : monsterfucking, cockwarming, brat-taming, two big cocks, hair pulling, thigh spanking, slight choking, rough sukuna, slight blood, dacryphillia, manhandling, biting, curse words, bad language.
MINORS DNI!
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Sukuna was brutal, always so annoyingly possessive and scary, you don't even know why you fell for him in the first place but you did and it was too late to back away. Even if he was scary, at some moments he'll show a glimpse of softness towards you even if it's a small gesture for a mere second. He might not show his affection in words but he'll spoil you rotten.
But of course, you had to be such a brat towards him. For what? For fun. Knowing the reaction you'll get out of him but you did it anyway, it was risky- you were scared of the consequences that will come with your actions but that's the point. You had this 'brilliant' idea to talk- no flirt with yuji itadori. You saw that yuji was alone and took it as an opportunity to start your little plan. Coming up to him and sitting down next to yuji was easy, he's a friendly guy anyways.. "perhaps wanna come back to my room? I have a new movie we could watch~" though poor baby yuji didn't understand what you're trying to do, surely that dense head of his could at least take a hint.
Halfway through your sentences your vision went black for a split second, you were teleported into his hollow eerie domain, the Malevolent Shrine.
And infront of you is now a very very furious sukuna. Before you could even utter a word he grabs your chin, looking down at you as he got closer to your face "you're doing this on purpose aren't you? Pathetic shit." he spat, his two lower arms sneak in your pants as the two upper ones rip your shirt into pieces eager to play with your nipples, Sukuna wasted no time to rip your pants and boxers/panties apart leaving the cold air to brush against your naked figure. He quickly took his pants off leaving him only in his kimono, your eyes darted to two large erect cock. "sit." You knew you're in no place to disobey him further as you still care about your legs so you lined his cocks before slowly sitting and pushing it in.
Quiet. its so quiet..
You're now sitting in his lap, sukuna's two terrifyingly large cock buried deep in you. None of you shared a word only soft whimpers and shallow breathing can be heard, you've been sitting for fifteen minutes yet it feels like an hour or more, "move.. you're taking too long!" You spoke, trying to break the eerie silence between the two only for sukuna to grip your neck and pulls you closer to his face. "I'll move when you'll stop being such a fucking brat." He exclaimed, closing your airways until you smack his arms in attempt for sukuna to let you go. It was no doubt useless, you're nothing to this curse of a man. a tear rolled down your face before he lets go making you gasp for air. An hour has passed and you can't take it anymore "sukuna please..!" You plead. "be more specific, brat." He spoke before getting closer to your ear. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do." He teased. You plead and beg for him to finally let you move and fuck yourself onto his cocks, in which he did.
You move slowly, painfully slow. The king of curses wasn't know for his patience, he forcefully thrusted upwards hitting your prostate straight, a loud moan ripped from your throat as he continues to thrust up, his arms holding you still, using you like a mere fleshlight "fuck- ah! Slowdown!" Your words fell deaf in his ears.
Picking up his pace Sukuna brought your legs folding it onto your chest as he fucks you dumb, drool tears sweat were all over your body and face, you can't even form a simple word let alone a sentence, and it makes sukuna laugh. Oh how a brat like you can turn into such a messy slut for him.
Sukuna formed a mouth on his hands, latching it to your lips as his real mouth attacks your neck, his sharp fangs piercing into your skin, licking up all the blood he got from you savoring the taste. It hurt like hell, it felt like two giant needles are stabbing your neck but you're too deep in pleasure to even notice. Sukuna got up from his throne before throwing you on it and bending you over, thrusting back it as he pulls your hair up making your face closer to his, sharing a passionate kiss that lasted minutes before you feel one of his cock twitching after the other, sukuna chased after his high as is pace clearly sloppy with no rhythm and his grunts gets louder "cum for me- you fucking slut. C'mon cum on my cocks-" he slurred before finally filling you up to the brim with his thick white sticky cum making you release as well. "Fuck.. maybe that'll be a lesson for you." He said while pushing his hair back.
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emotionalmessss · 1 year
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Me again hehe ok so what if Sukuna had a frail s/o that bruises really easily like he could flick her arm and an hour later boom purple spot
A/N: ahhh. I know sukuna is like the opposite of nice/gentle, but I'm going to be taking a different approach with this. I tried to answer the best I could, I swear my brain likes to run with things and spew out random shit.
Warnings: slight violence, teasing, unhealthy relationships, soft-ish sukuna?
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it was hard for sukuna to come to terms that he actually liked you. he noticed he was paying a little too much attention to you. nothing particularly peaked his interest much like you did. the thought of having feelings for something other than himself bothered him immensely. fruitlessly, he tried to suppress these emotions.
in his mind, he thought that if he ignored them, they'd eventually go away. so he resorted to his usual tactics; teasing, taunting, and humiliating you.
this succeeded in very little. he found himself even more enamoured by you. he loved watching you and never seemed to leave your side.
you'd grown accustom to his little games and stopped feeding into it. you knew he enjoyed your reactions and you weren't going to give him the satisfaction.
this annoyed him. although, he thoroughly enjoyed watching you unconsciously fight with your inner self. your face twisting up in a grimace, blush creeping in on your cheeks, and fists clenching at your sides.
his advancements were becoming intense. you couldn’t have more than a few hours to yourself without him intruding. it was strange. you couldn’t place why he was so interested in you and you tried to ignore it. it wasn’t an easy task. besides his taunting words and sadistic humour, he started being physical. he would stand closer to you than normal, hovering over you in a manner that screamed dominance.
sukuna found himself watching you more and more - his interest peaking to a borderline obsession. if he couldn’t ignore these feelings, he’d just have to embrace them. no one was allowed to harm you, except him, of course. you were his. his to torment. his to enjoy.
he noticed you were fragile, like a fucking child. If he grabbed with even just an ounce of his normal strength, your skin reddened. normally he'd feed off this new finding, but something else dwelled in his stomach. he wanted you all to himself. the desire to hurt you shifted into the need to have you.
a thick hand caught your wrist, instinctively causing your body to react and jerk backwards. your mask slipped from your face as you felt his grip tighten. the desire to flee was overwhelming, so much so that you'd combust if you stood still.
sukuna merely glanced down his nose at you, tightening his hold as you moved to step back. oh, no. you're not going anywhere. the need to have you close amplified and he tugged you closer, earning a hiss of response.
his eyes flicked to your wrist, noticing your pale skin darkening to a purple bruise. he couldn't hide the look of surprise on his face. his brows twitching as his eyes narrowed.
"such a fragile thing, aren't you?" his expression hardened again, but the softness of his voice couldn't be hidden.
he knew humans were fragile - there was no doubt in his mind about that. but he didn't expect this. he usually felt pleasure in causing pain towards others, but you were different. seeing all the cuts and bruises that littered your arms and legs made him unsettled.
he did his best to hide it, but you were smart. the way his expression shifted into slight concern before reverting to boredom, never went unnoticed.
his approach shifted, and you noticed it. sukuna refrained from using excessive force on you and instead, opted to softer gestures.
"hurt yourself again, brat?" you looked up at him, crossed legged at the bottom of his shrine.
"no." you stubbornly answered, flicking at your nails.
"hm." he shifted on his makeshift throne, glaring down at you with a bored expression.
he was crouching in front of you now, taking you by surprise and making you flinch back. his hand enveloped yours as he studied the fading bruise on your wrist.
"doesn't look that way to me." he muttered, focusing his attention on your arm.
sukuna’s usual lack of interest in anything changed. in your first meeting, he barely gave you a second glance. you weren’t important to him. he could care less about you. but now, his eyes lingered over you. he’d quickly check over your body when he thought you wouldn’t notice. at first, you couldn’t place why he was doing this. was it to make you uncomfortable? no. he was checking for any indications that you might be hurt.
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dvlboy · 1 month
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coaxing | MDNI
you'll coax his voice out one way or another.
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his voice was like sweet honey, the sweetest of sounds in melodic harmonies. and you were determined to crack into the heaven through any means necessary.
your boyfriend was a man of few words, a silent figure in the room that often scares those around him. yet that never stopped you from pursuing him, and it paid off in leaps and bounds.
you grabbed his wrist covering his mouth, harshly tugging it above his sweaty face making him yelp, "there's no way i'm letting you hide your pretty voice." the poor man looked like he was about to pass out, his brain too melted and fucked out to try and save his pride, to save the embarrassing noises from leaking out of those pretty lips of his, to save some of his dignity. in his eyes it was humiliating moaning like a whore in heat, in your eyes it was a reward that you worked so hard to get.
"don't resist it love, let it all out.." you kissed his sweaty bare chest, knuckles fisting the sheets while you buried yourself into his messy, slick hole. it was like an addiction, the need to hear his slutty moans, his tired whines, his pretty noises made you push through the fatigue, the soreness of your hips. it was almost like each time he squealed when you plunged into him gave you energy, each time he cried out for you gave you motivation, an endless cycle until his voice gave out.
"i-i can-i can't..!" his voice quivered, his feverish hands finding your chest, hands weakly trying to push you away. "t-too much.. too much..!" crocodile tears filled his eyes, the pleasure and pain too much for him to comprehend. "you can take it.." your smooth voice pissed him off, even though it was thinly veiled overstimulation. it wasn't fair how you managed to have so much stamina, so much energy to keep going.
"you've always been able to take it.. now keep singing my name love.." you grinned at him once more, grabbing his hands and pinning them down, holding him down to fuck him. if you buck your hips hard, you could see how his stomach distended lightly, the shape of your cock bulging his belly. "hey love, can you feel that?" you did it once more, your boyfriend throwing his head back, a long drawn out moan leaving his swollen lips. "can you feel my cock bulge your belly? can you feel me fuck you open?" you kissed his face, peppering kisses onto his tear stained face, licking them away. his body was like putty, and even when you pulled your arms away from his wrists, he didn't have any energy to change positions or try to hide his moans.
"don't tire out on me now love, not when i'm doing all this work for you." a sweaty grin was on your face, his voice flowing freely from his lips. you stuffed your face into the corner of his neck, snuggling closer to him to inhale his scent and hear the vibrations of his sound, before going over to his adams apple and grazing it with your teeth, enjoying how you could feel the vibrations on your teeth from his moans.
the edges of his vision were blurry, and his throat was so sore and dry from being so used, not used to so much activity. his brain could only think of you, how big you were, how you smelt, and he was utterly a mess. he could feel yet another orgasm coming, hands weakly trying to scramble your hands away from his weeping cock. "you can handle it, right love? my little songbird.." you coo'd out, stroking his pretty cock, watching him weakly tremble and shake, his voice freeflowing. you yourself were getting dangerously close to orgasm, chasing that high inside of him when suddenly his moans got louder, weaker and more erratic.
your hips burned and your toes curled as you felt yourself cum inside of him, hands iron gripped onto his sides as you spilled your cum once more into your used hole, listening to your boyfriends noises. how he squealed when he came, how his cum splattered weakly on his stomach, how he groaned when he felt you cum again inside of him.
"such a pretty voice my love.. my love?" you paused, seeing him dead asleep on the bed, passed out from your relentless pounding, evidence of sex all over him. maybe you coaxed him a bit too hard, but you'd do it again.
APHELIOS, AONE, BARBATOS, XIAO, GETO + ur favourites
ngl just testing the waters of writing again el o el
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gaybitchfx · 10 months
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✰𝓚. 𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓸✰
Sad bitch, but I love being bad —★
Hopped up out my feelings and I hopped in my bag
★—I'm a real hood bitch, I don't give a fuck
Talk shit, you getting hit, knuck if you buck —CLIP
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𝓣𝓦: none that i know of 👍🏽, intentional lowercase, male reader, bad grammar or spelling errors, a little something i made cause i was bored
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☆CHOSO who has heard so rumors about you throughout the college. some being you were a whore or slut, others saying you only played with other guys feelings and due to those rumors most people who didn’t know avoided you like the plague. and you of course didn’t give a damn to begin with, yeah you slept with guys just for the fun of it and probably because you couldn’t express your actual true feelings to someone. well, that was until choso came along. he was the first to actually treat you like a human being and not some shameless slut. “so what’s the catch? you tryna make me suck ya dick or some shit?” you asked him with a raised brow as you crossed your leg over the other. his brow raised a little bit from your blunt response before relaxing. “no, you just seem like a good person despite all those rumors i’ve heard about you.” he said as he looked at you, you were very close to just laughing in his face. “yeah sure, that’s what they all say. next thing they know they’re in my dorm or some bathroom with their pants at their ankles either fuckin’ me or i’m suckin’ em off.” you said as a frown formed on your lips.
☆CHOSO who never understood why you wouldn’t let him just be your friend or someone you could just talk to. he’s been trying for a week now and everyone knows this. “just give up, he won’t let you get anywhere near him, let alone close enough to his heart.” someone said to him as they patted his shoulder. now that was a challenge choso was willing to take on, after all you probably needed someone to at least get all your frustration out on by ranting. so every given moment he’d try to start a conversation with you but would continuously get ignored or pushed away. it took about another week before you yelled at him about how he was annoying and needed to bother someone else all the way to how you felt about certain things. it took awhile for you to shut up though, but choso just listened and didn’t say anything else and allowed you to take out all your frustrations out on him. “feeling better?” he asked once you were finished. you just simply nodded your head before a long sigh left your mouth. “is that why you kept bugging me like a damn fly?” you asked as you crossed your arms over your chest. “mhm, you looked stressed out even though you always have this ‘i don’t give a fuck’ vibe.” he said as he patted your back.
☆tags: @reallyromealone @lostsomewhereinthegarden
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phyrestartr · 5 months
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Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.1)
W/C: 3.5k #full is NSFW, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, mentions of abuse, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, sukuna has FEELINGS but is BAD AT FEELINGS, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, dubcon elements, soz if anything is clunky asdkjf; i can only reread the same fic so many times for editing sadge
A/N: Decided to separate this into parts since I'm dying to post some of it lol I've held it in a chokehold in the shadows of my WIPs for too long, some of it has to come out before I explode o(--( there is more to come!
tag: @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9
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The scripture was incomplete, worn away by age.
…herein lays the God...imprisoned...by...Disgraced One…
Yet the society felt this, the coffin uncovered decades ago, could be an invaluable asset. The vessel was decrepit and ancient, yet still stood strong against the test of time and the wear of nature. Seal papers, no doubt left by a monk of sorts, covered the entirety of its surface, hiding away rotting wood and rusted bands of metal from modern sorcerer's curious eyes.
Few knew why the higher ups kept the vessel under lock and key. Fewer knew why they kept it at all; however, those few understood the importance of such a relic. They'd been the ones to seek it out, to steal it away before malicious forces took it for themselves, warping the supposed deity inside for their own, malevolent purpose, whatever that may be.
And with Ryoumen Sukuna's fingers being found one by one, they could not allow anyone to possess humanity's failsafe: you. A great being imprisoned by the devil.
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“Anything?” Gojo trilled, patting Yuuji’s shoulders frantically as he stood behind him and beheld the wooden tub covered in sigils. 
“Uh…” Yuuji tried to focus on Sukuna’s presence inside of him. He didn’t seem intrigued or frightened, nor did he seem too bothered with the idea of them trying to smite him down with a sealed god–he was, however, annoyed that Yuuji continued to poke and prod at him. 
Piss off, runt. 
“Yep. Nope. Sukuna doesn't care,” Yuuji sighed. “He's getting all pissy now that I'm bothering him, though.” 
Gojo laughed and patted Yuuji's shoulders a few more times before all but twirling towards the bound box. “Well, that's a pretty good sign that he's not the one that did this, then! In that case,” he started, walking up to the seal papers keeping everything locked down, “let's pop ‘er open.” 
Before Yuuji could even wonder if that was a good idea, the white-haired witch used an overzealous amount of cursed energy and disintegrated every scrap of seal paper. 
Yuuji braced for impact. Surely something terrible like a bankai or a spirit bomb would send them flying once the coffin came undone. Surely they'd pay for this, for unleashing whatever godly spirit laid locked up for far too long, only to release it back into the modern age and–
“Huh. Weird.”
Yuuji cracked open an eye and saw the dull shine of tattered onyx fur, and his control slipped with a blitz of vertigo. 
Markings flared across his skin as he stormed toward the coffin, heart howling with thoughts and memories crashing through a shared mind; a face he didn't know but knew so well bloomed at the forefront of it all, eyes framed in pointed scarlet, skin bathed in ancient, dappled sunlight.
They reached the edge of the coffin and gripped the edges, splintering the wood as they took in the sight; crimson and curse decay pooled around a figure, curled up and half-submerged. Several black, tattered tails spilled free from the tub, no longer crushed from the force of the lid sealing them inside, but they were bent awkwardly and matted with whatever tincture lay at the bottom.
Then there was the so-called god in the middle of it all–you. Still. Quiet. Curled up in a haori far too big for you. Eyes closed. Almost peaceful.
Confusion tore at Sukuna while nausea ripped through Yuuji; he couldn't bear to look at such a morose scene.
So, Sukuna pushed him aside.
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[Heian Era]
You were never supposed to be anything more than a trinket. 
You were a gift from some family trying to show off for Sukuna, so much so that they offered him a delicacy, something he surely didn't have yet–a yokai. A kitsune, to be more exact. One with peculiar black tails. 
Sukuna found it interesting, and similarly desperate, to be brought such a creature as tribute. Certainly, it was meant to be seen as a high honour, yet somehow it felt…off. Why would humans give up something so powerful? 
Unexpectedly, it'd be you who told him. 
They submit me for the sake of convenience and mockery, your withering voice whispered where no one else could hear. You sounded weak. Tired. Maybe afraid, yet brave enough to reach towards the king and unveil the intentions of the men who brought you before him. 
Sukuna's eyes flicked to you, his feigned interest in what the sorcerers said falling straight into dismissal. You were much more intriguing. 
“Oh?” Sukuna asked, a smile creeping onto his face. The speakers ceased their jabbering and stared at your back with fierce intensity. Sukuna grinned wider. Oh, how he loved the way fear twisted mortal faces. 
You didn't shift or crumple into yourself under the eyes of so many, however. You pushed on with what little energy and life you had, so intent on dragging that clan through the mud. 
What I say is true, you assured simply. I expect to die today–
“Speak so everyone hears you, fox,” Sukuna commanded.
“--so I–I–” you coughed and cleared your throat, trying to rid your voice of the scratchy, weakness it struggled through. “I wish to not die with regrets.
"They have rendered me ill and unable to produce children, they see the black of my tails and regard me as an ill omen; yet they bring me to you, daring to spin sweet tales about the value of such an offering. But they lie,” You hissed. Your eyes glinted with molten malice, and Sukuna fell captivated.
“They throw me to you as they would diseased meat to dogs.” 
The courtyard fell silent, and Sukuna basked in it. You really were such a little troublemaker. A quietly chaotic force of nature. 
The king stood, rolling his shoulders as he did, and his pride flared as you dropped to your knees before him in respect. He walked to you and patted your head as one might a child's before appraising the sorcerers stood before him. 
“What a disappointment,” Sukuna sighed, raising another hand. The couple took up position, pooling their cursed energy in hopes of fending off the monster standing before them. The effort was quite cute. “Here I thought your clan might actually earn my mercy.” His hand dropped as the two lunged. Then, the two clansmen fell, too, both in neat, vertical halves. Quite overkill, yes, but he had a point to make. 
Where he expected a reaction from you, he got nothing. Only panting and poorly-stifled coughs came from you, racking through the entirety of your skin and bones frame. Sukuna could see it up close now, the way your body trembled from fatigue, the sickly greying of your skin, the scent of disease clinging to you. 
That wouldn't do. Sukuna liked his things to be in good shape. 
“Uraume,” Sukuna droned as he stared down at you, “fix this.”
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It took some time, but you managed to recover. It was an unnerving experience, with the way Uraume tended to you with sincerity. Perhaps it was genuinity born from their devotion to Ryoumen Sukuna, but you greedily soaked it in, filling your stomach with the care they offered you. 
Sukuna didn't bother much with you, not that you really minded; you were much more content to be fed and forgotten than hunted down by the creature that supposedly took ownership of you without enforcing it. If he didn't cause harm or good, if he simply existed somewhere else and forgot you breathed the same air as him, you'd still be at peace. 
But he was more intrigued than you gave him credit for. 
“Ho? So this is where you scamper off to,” Sukuna hummed, leaning over you as you dozed in the nice little spot you'd made for yourself in the garden, right under the crimson cover of a maple tree. You jumped the slightest bit, your daydreams and sunbathing interrupted by the brute’s silhouette eclipsing the sun, but you settled again quickly. The beast of a man wasn't a cause for panic in your little world, after all. 
“Does it displease you?” You inquired, fixing your hair and straightening out your robes. 
Sukuna held onto an overhead branch of the tree as he looked down at you. “Pets are supposed to play in the yard, aren't they?” He smirked as you pursed your lips and flicked your tail before calming it with hasty pets. “What, you don't like being my pet?” 
“I would not refer to myself as a pet,” you countered as the man sat down with you and leaned against the tree. The king's presence calmed you. With him, you knew you were invincible. 
“Pft. Then pray tell what your damn role is around here.” One set of arms folded behind his head while the other set crossed over his chest. “Pets are freeloaders. Pretty sure that's exactly what you are.”
You huffed. “Freeloader. Tch. How rude.” 
“Lookit that. You're copping an attitude now that you're fat and fed. Used to be so much more polite.” 
“Fat and–I am not fat.” You headbutted his side lightly, something that would make more sense had you been in your fox form. You grinding your forehead against him suggested this was more of a human move, however. “I am perfectly normal now. I was brittle and nonexistent prior to now. This is a grand improvement.”
Sukuna scoffed a laugh and looked down at your head pressed up against his side. “Thanks to me,” he boasted. 
“Yes,” you agreed. You held onto his haori and looked up at him, placid and intense. “It is thanks to you. I would not be here if not for your mercy and intervention.” 
Sukuna raised a brow as he regarded you. “Hm. And what will you do to repay me?” 
“My very presence grants you luck, good fortune and fertility.” You tilted your head. “I already repay you by being here.”
Tch. But the gardens and surrounding lands did look more lush and lively since your arrival, he couldn't deny that fact. But he was a king; he could always ask for more and expect to get it. 
“What more?” He prodded.
Your tail flicked as you thought. “What would you ask of me?” 
“Something you haven't given another,” Sukuna replied. Ugh, your flowery, poetry-y, bullshit speak was rubbing off on him. 
You stared at him, gemstone eyes glinting with earthen hues and shards of gold in the yawning afternoon sun. The leaves bristled just perfectly, letting in dapples of citrus sunlight as if trying to make this moment something special, as if to burn your ethereal presence into history for all eternity. All this, just while you thought of what to give him. Perhaps a riddle is what you wanted. Perhaps purple prose suited your fancy. Perhaps it was something else. 
You sat up, carefully raising yourself onto your knees before leaning up towards the hulking king. He turned his face to you in interest, feeling a sort of natural energy begin to pool around the both of you, reaching from the far depths of the earth and the wide stretch of the sky to converge on your existence as you framed his face with gentle hands, and placed a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. 
It lasted only a second. But a second was long enough to catch the scent of petrichor and petals on your skin, to indulge in the heat of wildfires raging in your soul, to feel the blasphemy of you against him; then, you parted. 
“For now,” you murmured, and Sukuna swore he saw your single tail fan out into nine, “I give you my divine favor, Ryoumen Sukuna.”
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You wondered if your favor was enough. He'd been gone some time, off to accept a duel from the snotty shitheads Sukuna had received you from. Apparently, having two of the eldest boys murdered rubbed them the wrong way. Sukuna was glad for it, you knew–the man lived and breathed for a fight. 
Of course, you stayed put. Uraume assured you'd be fine on your own, and Sukuna reminded his staff they'd all be eaten alive by the king himself if anything uncouth were to take place in his absence. It was more so that Sukuna didn't like the idea of idiots touching his stuff than it was the notion you were important to him, from your understanding. 
Regardless, the time alone left you restless. That king made you invincible. Without him, you were nothing more than the scared kit locked away in darkness, never to emerge lest your stubbornness trick them. But things were different here. Everyday was filled with unknowns and uncertainties when the two you'd forged fragile bonds with fell absent. 
So, you thought of how to repay Sukuna. Your divine favor would only do so much, after all–you didn't think a man like that really needed the extra luck, but he seemed more than intrigued by the manner of delivering the blessing; you remembered how he looked at you, eyes half-lidded, shielding you from the inferno burning out of control. He grumbled something low in his chest, just loud enough that you heard: 
You better be here when I get back.
“Ah–” The thrill those catastrophic words gave you nearly led to stabbing yourself with the needle. You tutted and regained focus, continuing to carefully embroider the sleeves of one of Sukuna's many plain black haori.
You learned how to sew and embroider from watching an elder from that clan work her magic on old, tattered clothes. She never spoke to you nor regarded you, but she never turned you away the rare times you watched her fix garments; you thought it was beautiful–the art of turning something mundane into something meaningful.
Though you wondered if Ryoumen Sukuna, the most powerful sorcerer, the most feared man alive, had a desire for anything useless and meaningful. 
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The answer came quickly. You'd found yourself void of confidence when the monarch returned to his palace after (obviously) winning whatever duel he'd agreed to; you weren't sure if you were to congratulate him, celebrate him or something more. On top of that, he'd eventually find that haori you'd slaved over for days, and you weren't sure you could take the heartbreak of dismissal. 
However, those fears were quashed when, from a new little secret garden hovel, you spied the man donning the very haori you slaved over; it wasn't a flashy piece, you didn't want to subtract from the marvel that was the king of curses, so you opted for using black, shimmery thread to weave intricate twisting trees and blackened blooms along the sleeve. Only if the design caught the light would one be able to notice it. 
But that was enough for you. Knowing he accepted such a meaningless gift was reassuring of your place in his world. 
So, you finally let Uraume convince you to stay in the room they'd prepared for you. 
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“No need to be nervous,” you hummed, that undying urge inside you to take care of something helping you soothe the young woman's nerves. You fixed her hair, your deft fingers carefully slipping strands into place before sliding a decorative pin in to hold it all together. You took a step back to appraise her, Sukuna's latest concubine. 
“I–thank you.” Sachiko blushed fiercely and bowed the slightest bit, not risking a deep bow for the fear of her hair falling loose. “I can see why all the girls love you.” 
You laughed, low and warm. “Well, it's hard not to love someone who takes care of you, no?” Gently, you tilted her chin up and leaned in, carefully examining the red lacquer staining her lips. The colour matched her kimono and the gems in that exquisite hairpin keeping dark locks at bay. “But I'm glad. I know it's difficult to find respite in these times.” 
Sachiko held her breath as she looked over the natural paint of crimson adorning your eyes. “I-I, um–yes, I do agree.” 
You hummed and carefully fixed the smallest smudge on the corner of her mouth. “Mh. So I hope you do your best to please him.” 
“I will!” Sachiko promised. “But–I wish to–may I give you something?” 
“Of course.” 
She gathered her kimono up in her hands and leaned up toward you. You leaned down, expecting a secret or hushed words, but perfect red lips pressed against your skin instead. And you were dumbfounded; you'd never been kissed before. You'd never had a lady show that interest in you. 
Sachiko got down from her tiptoes and hid her mouth with her sleeve. “Just for good luck!” She squeaked before bowing and hastily running through the doors where Sukuna would no doubt be waiting for his woman for the evening’s events. 
You looked at the doors sliding closed and caught a glimpse of Sukuna stood before the young woman, his frame swallowing hers as you looked on. And you caught a glimpse of his eyes, his stare of shock and utter vexation–clearly, he'd seen the short woman give you a kiss for good luck. 
You turned away, choosing to abandon the girl to her demise as your fingers ghosted against your lips in wonder. 
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He showed up in your chambers later that night. You were still awake, quietly embroidering another haori; this time, it was for Uraume. They insisted they didn't want to burden you, but they crumbled under your more insistent insistence, and accepted the offer on the condition it looked subtle and muted. 
Sukuna padded toward you, hardly bothering to announce himself or ask to join you (ugh, how annoying) before plopping himself onto the futon beside you, sighing as he laid down. 
“I see you finished early,” you commented, jumping the littlest bit when large hands caught your flickering tails. He didn't hurt you, no; he was simply an overgrown toddler with a penchant for examining whatever wiggled before him. 
“That woman kissed you,” Sukuna answered, unhelpful. “Ruined it.” 
“Ah. Well. I didn't expect it either.” You cleared your throat, feeling an unexpected bubble of embarrassment rise in your chest. “I have…I've never been given a kiss before. Not from what I can recall, at the very least.” 
“The hell are you talking about?” Sukuna grouched. “You planted one on me in the gardens.” 
“Giving is not receiving,” you corrected, flicking your tail so as to hit his face. “I've never given a kiss on another's lips, regardless. Though I find myself wondering why I–” 
You yowled when he yanked your tail like he meant to rip the thing off, and you whirled on him, eyes drawn into slits and chunky fangs bared as you dug your nails into his wrist in an effort to make him let go.
Yet the king looked unfazed. He sat up and  tugged you closer by your tail, yank after yank, ripping an impressive collection of vexed noises from you until his broad hand caught you by the throat. You clawed at his wrist and forearm, scrambling to find purchase, idly wondering if he'd finally had enough of you and sought to put you down after dirtying one of his concubines–
But he kissed you instead. His lips were warm and dry, not quite soft yet not unwelcoming. Sukuna knew what he was doing, too; his tongue licked at your bottom lip before pushing inside to finally taste you and taint you from within just a little bit. 
Your grip on him laxed the slightest bit, and you even eased into his hold as he, too, refused to harm you further. If you weren't aware of his malevolent spirit, you might've thought him gentle in that long, simple moment–a special brand of “gentle” that was wholly Sukuna's. Kind, but jagged around the edges. 
He started pulling back, though, and you followed after his touch like a bewitched maiden chasing after the lips of a lover. You nipped at the air like that'd do something for you, but soon settled on leaning into the hand holding you still, even if your throat scratched and ached because of it. 
You found Sukuna's calm stare watching you when you opened your eyes a crack. For once, you thought he looked content; the cruel, mocking lines of his face had smoothed and relaxed, and that annoying, cocky smirk he'd been born sporting had been replaced with a placid, normal lilt. Even the inferno blazing in crimson depths eased into pools of yawning embers–warm and spirited, yet contained. 
The sight relaxed you despite the confusion it brought to your rationale. 
“That,” Sukuna said, so odd and quiet, but powerful and judicial. “Is your first.” His thumb stroked against the side of your neck, pausing to feel the pitter patter of your heart thrumming under his mercy. “It'd serve you to remember that.” 
You nodded shallowly. “Of course.” 
Pleased, he let go of your quite breakable neck and moved like he was about to get up. You grabbed at his hand and pressed his palm to the side of your face like he was cupping your cheek. Your insistence on touching gave the beast pause, but he settled again, content to let you keep him hostage for as long as you wanted.
And you indulged in the simple favour. You nuzzled into his palm with a very fox-like chitter as a bassy, quiet trill of a purr lazily rolled through your chest, eventually reaching Sukuna himself. It somehow had him feeling content. Relaxed. Like he was basking in the warmth of the sun. 
“I request another,” you chirped, and Sukuna quirked a brow. 
“Another?” 
“Kiss.” 
Sukuna twitched a smirk. “It'll cost ya.” 
“Oh?” 
“Give me another blessing.”
And you agreed.
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shukein · 5 months
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𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿(𝘀): 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗳𝗮𝗿 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗯𝘂𝘀𝘆 𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗮𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿: 𝗴𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁, 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗷𝗼𝗯, 𝗰𝘂𝗺 𝘀𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗰𝘂𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘀𝘂𝗯 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂(?), 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗻𝘆 & 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘆 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂 (𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗻 𝗮𝘂), 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝘁𝘁𝘆 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟲𝟴𝟴
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𝗮 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗶𝗻'
satoru is the kind of man to have no shame in what he does, even after he's married [name], that one part of him has never changed.
he knows how tired [name] has been lately, working tirelessly in the office and coming home absolutely exhausted, but that didn't change how pent up satoru has been feeling.
he felt as if he were being neglected, itching to touch and kiss at [name] skin, to worship their body, to do anything with his spouse really! but he didn't want to disturb them. they've worked so hard, they deserve a break when they get home.
but then again, satoru's just so shameless.
the white haired man would be laid next to their sleeping spouse, staring at their face as his hand fisted his twitching cock. he'd stifle his moans, soft breaths heaving out from him as bucked into his hand.
satoru would shut his eyes tightly, his hand moving faster around his erection. he really wasn't planning on waking his love up, but after countless of wet dreams he's had, and with how long they've actually had sex, he couldn't help but want to let off some steam.
"Mm... fuck," he groans under his breath, his free hand moving to comb his hair back. he was getting close.
"Satoru..." his eyes immediately shot open, staring at [name]'s tired face with wide eyes. did he accidentally wake them up?
"Ah, b-baby...! Why're you awake?" satoru's voice shook, an embarrassed blush coating his cheeks as he reluctantly stopped his movements.
[name]'s gaze would shift down to satoru's 'problem', blinking tiredly before meeting his blue eyes. "Uhm... baby, you should uh... should go back to sleep. You're still tired, yeah?"
satoru stutters, tucking himself back into his sweats as his other hand reaches out to brush a strand hair off [name]'s face.
[name]'s eyes closed for a moment once he felt the man's hand caressing their cheek, a soft sigh escaping them before swiftly moving themself to sit up.
"Baby...?" satoru mumbles, staring up at them in slight confusion. [name] simply moves down the white haired males body, positioning themself in between the mans legs as their hands move up to tug down his sweats.
"Satoru, if you were feeling like this, you could have asked me to help..." they mutter, leaving the man to beneath them to stutter as he protests. "Ah- Honey, it's fine! You've been so tired, I don't wanna bother your rest-"
"Satoru," [name] calls out, staring into the males bright blue eyes. "Let me do this for you, yeah?" "...ok,"
and that soon led to [name]'s lips wrapped snuggly around satoru's cock, their tongue leaving a wet path down the base of his member, causing a soft groan to leave satoru's lips as he tilts his head back.
"Hah... fuck, baby..." satoru moans, one hand moving down to grab a fistful of [name]'s hair, whines and mewls spilling past his lips.
god, did he miss having them like, having their lips wrapped around his cock, having all their attention on him now. he really misses this.
[name]'s tongue teasingly made their way on the underside of his cock, licking at a certain vein that they knew would drive satoru crazy, "Ngh- B-Baby... oh, fuck, I'm close..."
satoru whimpers soon becomes more audible, his back slightly arched off the mattress as he gripped [name]'s hair tighter.
"Oh, fuck! Baby, I'm close, I'm close, I'm close- Ngh! Fuck, fuck, fuck," he moans as [name]'s sucked on his sensitive tip, driving him closer to the edge before-
"Angh!" satoru moans loudly, spilling himself down [name]'s throat as he pants heavily, trying to catch his breath as he shuts his eyes. "Fuckin' hell..."
[name] made sure to swallow every last bit, licking at satoru's now limp cock to clean him off from his cum before sitting up, crawling over the male and giving him a soft kiss on the lips.
"God, you were amazing... thank you, baby," satoru pants, pulling [name] down to hold them in his arms.
"It's no problem, love. If you ever feel this way, just tell me, ok?"
"Ok."
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©SHUKEIN. please do not translate or repost any of my work on any other platform, or claim any of it as your own. 2024
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240 notes · View notes
guizika · 9 months
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My Boyfriend
Itadori Yuuji x GN! Reader
Cw - GN! reader, you/yours pronouns, headcanon, established relationship, pet names (My love, Angel), a little bit of angst, fluff, Maybe it's a bit ooc.
Synopsis - You and Yuji are different, you're cold and rude, while Yuji is the complete opposite.
Word count - 721
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Everyone was surprised when they found out that you and Yuji were in a relationship, you are someone who is rude and cold while Yuji is the opposite. Some people cast worried glances at Itadori, fearing that he was being treated badly in the relationship.
- But little do they know that in private you're simply very gentle with Itadori, the target of harmless jokes from him.
"Angel, touch me, you know I love when you touch my hair." You say in a muffled voice, your head buried in Yuji's neck, with your arms around him in a tight hug.
"Ow, look at you, so needy you're almost begging." He says in a playful tone, taking a hand to your hair to play with it and stroke your scalp, receiving a snort in return. You quickly squeeze Itadori's side, tickling him. "Hey! Stop that-" Before he can finish speaking he is cut off by his own laughter, giggling wildly as he tries to get you to stop tickling him.
"Enough! Enough, please!" He begs after a while, you stop and give him a smug smile. "Sorry, I think it was you who was begging." With that he opens his mouth, a visible expression of shock, then cracks a smile. "Wow, who knew you had such a dirty trick up your sleeve."
"Be quiet and cuddle me for once." You bury your head in his neck and hug him tightly again, leaving him with no escape. He smiles and starts to play with your hair, so he also strokes your scalp, enjoying the moment.
- Well, apart from that, you're like a personal watchdog, always defending Itadori from negative comments or mean looks, trying to protect him from the malice of others.
Itadori is sometimes criticized mainly for being Sukuna's receptacle. Some Jujutsu sorcerers look at him differently, as if he were someone bad.
"Do you know who he is?" A girl asks her friend, pointing at Yuji. "Yes I do, be careful, he's Sukuna's vessel, better stay away from him." The boy says this, without noticing you approaching.
Your eyes narrow when you hear the boy's comment, and you stop in the middle of the path and walk towards him. When you get close to him, you touch him on the shoulder to get his attention, the boy turns around and is greeted by you. The look you give him is enough to let him and the girl know that they've said the wrong thing.
"Uh, hi." The girl says, catching your eye, only to be met with a cold stare. You both remain silent, while you clear your throat and look directly into the boy's eyes. "Look here boy, if I hear you saying anything more about my boyfriend you're screwed." With that, the boy swallows, knowing you're not joking, and the girl stands still in silence.
"Of course, I apologize for him, now we need to go." She says, pulling the boy by the arm and walking away, you look at them until they turn and disappear down the corridors.
Yuji finally notices you and calls out to you, smiling happily. "You took your time, I was getting worried." When you hear his words, a small smile appears on your face and you go to his side to sit down. "Sorry for the delay, I had to sort out some problems."
- And the main thing, when Itadori is feeling tired and exhausted from having so many responsibilities, you are there to help him. Always holding him and telling him how much you love him.
At this moment, Yuji is lying on top of you, his head buried in your neck, crying as he vents to you. "I'm so tired, it's so frustrating." He says through tears and sobs.
One of your hands caresses his back and the other plays with his hair. "Shhh, I know, my love, but you're doing your best." You kiss his hair and then let out a sigh. "You always do your best, I know that, I'm always very happy to have such a strong, beautiful and amazing boyfriend like you."
Hearing your words, Yuji cries even harder, hugging you tighter. "I love you so much, I don't know what I'd do without you." He lifts his head from your neck and begins to kiss your cheek.
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Please don't translate my work and don't repost on other social networks, if there are any grammatical errors I ask you to excuse me!
302 notes · View notes
s3thwrit3sstuff · 9 months
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❝ YOU ALREADY HAVE A PIECE OF MY HEART (WHICH I HAVE NEVER GIVEN TO YOU) ❞
Gojo Satoru x male!reader | Nanami Kento x male!reader | Sukuna Ryomen x male!reader | Geto Suguru x male!reader | polycule (Satoru x r! x Suguru), polygamy (Satoru x r!, Satoru x Suguru, r! x Satoru, r! x Kento) | Heian Era!Sukuna Ryomen x Heian Era!male!reader | drabble of alternate universes | NOT PROOFREAD
warnings: burn scars, battle scars, grief, derealization, trauma (so much trauma), major character deaths (Satoru, Suguru, Tsumiki, Nanako, Mimiko, Principal Yaga, (Y/N)'s mom), Fushiguro Megumi angst, Junpei mentioned (surprisingly without angst), Itadori Yuji angst (minor), NSFW content for Sukuna's section, implied cannibalism
masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's
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authors note: NOT PROOFREAD AT ALL! The formatting is a bit all over the place but these are straight-up taken from Discord chats I had with Elias, pls. I hope they're not too hard to understand. These are all basically "what ifs" and alternate universes + one section for Heian Period Ryomen Sukuna with a (L/N)'s ancestor! " " = means straight-up copy-pasted so I guess they kinda act as a foreword for each drabble
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starting off with some HCs of (Y/N)’s high school years!
(Y/N) thinks Satoru must understand the pain of being the next head of the clan, get trained vigorously, and deal with aching bones and sores. Nope! Satoru’s never dealt with that much less dealt with (Y/N)’s father.
Shoko has a dark sense of humour so she laughs at his dark jokes but (Y/N) does notice the three of them end up pampering him more often.
Satoru buys him food most of the time. Drinks and snacks and ice cream, if (Y/N) gazes at something too long Satoru just tosses it into his cart.
Suguru tends to help him stretch or massage him. He’d even fix (Y/N)’s hair, almost motherly in his actions. He makes sure (Y/N) is presentable, makes sure he doesn’t have to worry because; “Su-Su will fix it~”.
Shoko makes sure (Y/N) is always wound-free. From buying antiseptics to burn relief gels (they all have a travel-sized bottle on their person to be fair). She buys him cigarettes when he needs them and always pokes him in his sides or the back of his head, she made it a habit to use RCT on him just in case he’s in pain but can’t feel it.
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"You'd come back to me"
"What if Nanami Kento and (Y/N) survived the Shibuya arc?"
Kento stroked your bangs away and then pressed kisses with every compliment he gave. Your chuckles give him this feeling that if you ever told him "please" he'd give up everything just to hear it again. Kento lightly pushes you away but slips a hand underneath you, tugging his (Y/N) closer. “Kennnnnny."
Usually, Kento doesn’t enjoy nicknames but every time you say it, the world seems bright and sweet. So he noses at your jaw and relishes in the giggles.
“You’re beautiful,” he says with so much sincerity.
“You’re not too bad yourself.” Kento grins and presses a searing kiss to your lips.
You are both covered in scars. Nanami’s still pinkish and healing even with the help of socerery and yours still aching and bruised. But nothing about you could be wrong. Because that wasn’t possible. The ring on your hand is cool on his neck as you tilt his head to deepen the kiss. Kento turns and chuckles as you yelp, straddling him now.
“Kento!”
“Yes, my (Y/N)?”
Your eyes soften, and he kisses you again.
"The beach will be more cloudy. We can sit on the porch and I'll make you that milky tea again." He thinks it's a shame the two of you are stuck inside the house. It cannot be helped; his skin was far too sensitive for Malaysia's unapologetic sunny rays and dry heat and although you comfort him by saying your scars are still healing too, he wants nothing more than to pick you up and wash away all the remnants of Shibuya in seawater. "I can make it," he says. "Kento," you press your finger onto his lips, tracing it until you're cupping his face and stroking over his cheekbones. "Let me take care of you." Kento frowns and places his hand over yours, tracing the shape of your healing knuckles and raised scars. "Only if you'll let me do the same, my (Y/N)."
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Kento who survived the Shibuya arc is left with a very sensitive wound all over the left side of his body. His hearing is unbalanced and his depth perception is fucked but (Y/N) helps him through all the transitions he goes through.
(Y/N) feels guilty for using his curse technique when it’d been fire that hurt Kento. Who doesn’t use it around Kento or if he does use it, he makes sure the smell is gone and washes his hands, and makes sure Kento can hold him without fear. But Kento doesn’t fear him! Kento figured it out and he just tells (Y/N); “My love, you never need to hide yourself from me…”
Yuji helps Kento with physical therapy. Kento grunts but allows Yuji to hug him when he regains consciousness. Kento who asks Yuji if he’d like to be his ringbearer during their wedding.
(Y/N) who is so nervous to meet Kento’s parents. He knows non-sorcerers and sorcerers don’t have many differences in their daily lives outside of exorcising curses but worries nonetheless. Kento’s mom is bright and jovial, and his father is even more so! (Y/N) is honestly taken aback by how soft-hearted they are and how they thank him for saving Kento. He finds himself loving them so much because they remind him of his mother and how gentle and kind she was.
When he asks for their blessing? He bows but is surprised when Kento’s father blocks his forehead from meeting the floor, blinking away tears when his mother holds his face.
“We’ll gladly take you in as your son, (Y/N),” and they all start crying because (Y/N) is crying, LMAO.
Kento tells (Y/N) he asked for his parent's blessing and he's confused because Kento should never do that - he doesn’t need to ask his father for his blessing but Kento simply says:
“I visited your mom’s grave. I asked for her blessing. I talked to her about how much I love you.”
At their wedding, there are empty seats in the crowd. Seats for their fallen comrades, their loved ones, seats for Tsumiki, Principal Yaga, Yū, Satoru, Suguru, (Y/N)'s mom… (blame Elias for this one)
In regards to (Y/N) seeing Geto Suguru's "body" as he descended into madness: Kento who spots him muttering to himself or staring into space. (Y/N), who after surviving the Shibuya arc, still sees Suguru and now Satoru as well. At times, he even sees Yū, Kento, Megumi, Tsumiki, Yuji, Nobara, Maki, or -His brain constantly makes it hard for him to decipher reality or fiction.
A HC based on Katniss and Peeta: (Y/N) asking Kento, “Real or not real?” when he can't tell reality from fiction.
“You’re alive, real or not real?” “Real.”
“Megumi is still breathing. Real or not real?” “Real, my love. He’s just healing. He’ll wake up soon.”
"...You love me, real or not real?" "Real, my love."
When Fushiguro Megumi wakes up:
When Megumi recovers he cries. Openly cries, sobs, and wails as he begs for forgiveness from everyone around him. (Y/N) literally rushed into the room which made Megumi flinch, yelling at him to stay away because he killed his father (Satoru), his sister, and everyone else Ryomen Sukuna had killed. But (Y/N) just holds him and holds him and holds him. Megumi finds it hard to piece his brain together after what Sukuna has done so Yuji helps. Yuji asks Kento for advice because Megumi and (Y/N) are lowkey in the same boat-ish.
Megumi who begs for forgiveness because Sukuna had done unspeakable things to (Y/N) just to make him his concubine and (Y/N) just comforts his son.
When Megumi is strong enough they go to Suguru and Satoru’s graves. There are no bodies but they buried the things that they treasured. Their wedding ring rests where Satoru would have along with Megumi and Tsumiki’s childhood drawings, pictures, and Suguru’s hairband and button. The flip phone was full of memories and high school photographs - his wedding picture too. He rests beside Geto Suguru, whose grave is filled with his daughter's belongings and the flip phone he kept too, the creased photograph of himself with Satoru, (Y/N) and Shoko. Tsumiki, Nanko and Mimiko are next to their fathers. Megumi cries as his knees give out, his only family left, his dad; (Y/N), just comforts him as much as he can. His precious boy, his beautiful son... They visit as often as they can, telling tales of their days, their weeks, and their months. Soon enough, it will be less painful for them to visit that hill. It'll be scenic and they'll no longer curse at the heavens for all this loss. They'll hate that they're no longer the same person their loved ones had seen, hate the wrinkles and the greying hair and the way they couldn't grow old together. Hate that they've been alive longer than them when they feel like they don't deserve to be. But one day it'll stop and they'll take it as a blessing to grow this old, knowing they'll see their family soon enough with so many stories to tell.
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"And isn't it just so pretty to think? All along there was some invisible string, tying to you me?"
"You know - in every universe, Satoru falls in love with Suguru and (Y/N). In a few universes, their love is not tragic. In this special few, Satoru does not use (Y/N) for honor. Suguru comes back after his betrayal,l and (Y/N) and Kento defend his rights as a human. Satoru has (Y/N) help him with Suguru’s rehabilitation, and Kento helps Suguru with his clashing ideology. In the special few, Megumi is still beloved by YN but he doesn’t fear betrayal, and love just needs love to be perfect. Uncle (Y/N) cherishes Tsumiki and Megumi and Uncle Kento who teaches them how to be kind and responsible. Mimiko and Nanako learn how to befriend Tsumiki and Megumi!”
(Y/N) would've become a teacher like Satoru! Kento sends him to and from. He pouted so much when Kento knew Yuji was alive but forgave him. (Y/N) invited Yuji to eat homemade lunch and dinners in their home, and Yuji pretended not to feel himself tremble; a homemade meal was eaten around a dining table.
Yuji, who never had such an experience before; and who craves familial bonds; can’t stop shoveling food in his mouth because he keeps grinning too hard -
And when Junpei is brought back alive? (Y/N) takes to him like a moth to a flame. He volunteers to help Junpei, to house him, and bares his teeth at the higher-ups who dare take the boy from him.
Junpei wakes up to Kento cooking breakfast and (Y/N) who makes tea. Junpei gasps as (Y/N) opens up a movie and invites him to watch with him. Junpei relishes Kento’s words of advice for his newfound curse technique.
Junpei cries into the pillows and gets surprised when (Y/N) comforts him, telling him he misses his mother too, and lets (Y/N) hug him.
Junpei stares at himself in the mirror when Shoko heals his cigarette scars, brushing back his bangs confidently for the first time.
Junpei who bonds with Megumi about having shikigamis! Who Nobara (affectionately) bullies and toughens up! Maki is reminded of Yuta every time, and Inumaki chuckles at her face. Panda just loves being his senpai but keeps pushing Junpei away from him when Junpei tries to touch his fur -
Satoru and Suguru come over with Mimiko, Nanako, Tsumiki, and Megumi to their home. Yuji and Junpei picked out the movie (it’s obviously Human Earthworm - all 4 movies). The Gojo-Geto’s brought snacks and drinks, and the Nanami’s made their home so cozy and warm.
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"Tell me you belong to me"
Heian Era Sukuna and the ancestor of the (L/N) clan, his only male concubine which he adored so much it caused his unending.
As a foreword (just a fan theory I adored not canon at all): "The theory that Sukuna keeps CTs within his Malovent Shrine (hence, in my fic, it’s why the (L/N) clan never flourished. Sukuna took their innate technique and left them with a CT so strong none of them had enough will-power to master). It’s not confirmed but in the Jogo fight, he says “open” and all of a sudden he can use a flame CT???" "This is basically an AU of (Y/N)'s ancestor, lmao."
They sacrificed (Y/N) to Ryomen Sukuna and gave him their prince who came to him with a sharp glare and dirtied with bruises and cuts.
“You wrap my gift so carelessly?” Sukuna drawls out.
(Y/N) is bound and gagged. His hair must have been in an impressed top knot, now a mess that spills from his shoulders.
Uruame shifts next to him and they grip (Y/N)'s cheeks to inspect him.
What a beautiful man, they think with mild surprise, it was no wonder he was chosen as a sacrifice.
But, Sukuna wants him. So, he adds his first male concubine to his harem. (Y/N) is scrubbed clean, dressed to the nines, and made to look like a doll. His face was painted, his hair brushed, his nails trimmed, and his skin moisturized.
Ryomen Sukuna is a monster with a picky tongue. Despite his greed, he only eats refined meats and fights the strongest sorcerers.
Sukuna doesn’t “love” his concubine but he favors him. That much, (Y/N) can tell. When he plays the biwa or recites sutras and haikus, Sukuna is ever so attentive. When (Y/N) bows and sits next to Lord Sukuna to feed him his meals, he finds those big hands holding him in one way or another.
When he takes (Y/N) as a “woman”, he is not gentle. Uruame is the one to prepare him. They provided him with oils and aromatic smoke to ease him, not out of the kindness of their hearts but for their Lord’s pleasure. (Y/N) swears he nearly rips taking his size but Sukuna spreads his legs and pushes in deeper and (Y/N) gasps, his tears like diamonds as he pleads for his Lord to grant him mercy.
Sukuna does. It surprises himself. But he does.
Maybe Sukuna will never understand the word love because he tells himself he’s never loved. Or maybe, he confuses it with ownership and cruelty - because it’s obvious he loves (Y/N).
He’s unfair to all but him.
He is still the King of Curses, a cruel tyrant, but (Y/N) is someone who calms his wrath with ease.
When they made that Binding Vow for (Y/N)'s curse technique to be given to Sukuna in exchange for Sukuna not being able to kill off his clan. He had thought to give YN another curse technique. But then, after (Y/N) learns Sukuna murdered a huge chunk of his clan, (Y/N) plans for his betrayal.
(Y/N) seeing the shock on Sukuna’s face as he gets sealed away, feeling the God's disdain weigh on his bones as he breaks the Binding Vow - he weeps for Sukuna despite knowing how horrible he is.
(Y/N) marries and his bloodline continues on, but there’s this terrible desire to be loved. It persists in every one of them. This ache that the King of Curses had left. This magnetism that power holds over the (L/N) clan.
In another universe, where (Y/N) finds no love in Satoru nor Kento, but Sukuna?
How delighted would the King of Curses be to see his concubine so willing for him? The King of Curses would have a harem of women. But the one man? Oh, he’s beloved. His room is closest to Sukuna’s, his appetite always filled and his bookshelves overflowing. Uruame enjoys his presence, tending to him personally and making him food as well.
(Y/N) who takes a liking to human flesh. Who finds himself ignoring the screams of tortured men and women, and only curls his nose in distaste when Sukuna wants to consume “soft” flesh.
Who grins so serenely in his King’s lap, who can’t decide which mouth he prefers on him or which hand is his favourite. Sukuna loves to be fed by (Y/N) and does the same to him.
Who learns how to please Sukuna’s cocks all by himself. Who has servants prep him open only to be killed right after - but what a privilege they had, to have Sukuna’s concubine mewl around their fingers.
Sukuna loves watching him ride, loves seeing the bulge in his stomach, the twinge of pain on his face. He loves sticking his tongue out (the one on his stomach) to lick at (Y/N)’s cock and (Y/N) yelps every time.
At times, you’ll find his precious concubine so stunning after a night of pleasure you’d stare. Each time, Uruame is there to gauge their eyes out.
Their master's toy is his alone after all.
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"What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes"
polycule of satosugu x yn!
Satoru thinks he’s selfish. He knows that marrying (Y/N) fulfills duty and honour but in doing so it would be cruel for the boy. On the other hand, marrying Suguru was completely out of the realm of possibilities no matter how hard he insists.
His personal feelings about them both confuse him too.
Satoru loves Suguru. Satoru loves (Y/N).
You could imagine the relief 16-year-old Gojo Satoru felt when (Y/N) blushed at Suguru’s soft-spoken voice or when Suguru caught himself staring at (Y/N)’s lips for too long in a conversation.
In this AU - Satoru never dated Suguru, he instead gathered the two of you and just announced his feelings.
It was choppy waters to navigate through, among the political aspects of a marriage and teenage emotions and deadly missions.
But the three of you made it work. This relationship was among three men who fulfilled honour, duty, and love. Who only needed each other to feel filled.
A polyamorous marriage wasn’t taboo, it was just outdated, still with Gojo Satoru and Gojo (Y/N) both insisting that Geto Suguru would be their husband after Satoru became the head of the Gojo clan. It wasn’t as though they could be refused now.
In this AU, Suguru would not betray his husbands though not without thinking of it. He simply tightened his hold on the rings before he brought the twins back home and his heart softened as he saw them tend to the girls.
What a rowdy household. The children are so loved that they cannot fathom love doesn’t exist.
Satoru who will sigh and embrace his husbands out of the blue.
“You’re beautiful,” he’ll tell (Y/N) as he cups his face while the poor man is simply reading some document at the dining table. “Our husband is beautiful, Suguru!”
Suguru immediately gets drowsy whenever your fingers thread through his hair, and chuckles when you trace his features as he’s about to wake.
Gods, seeing you and Satoru hold onto your children’s hands as all of you walk together in a park makes thoughts of those dark summers dissipate into nothing.
Satoru sleeps in the center of your California king-sized bed. He simply refuses any other spot.
The Tokyo School has its hands full of the Gojo’s. From the husbands to their 3 children with rambunctious abilities.
When Tsumiki got cursed...it was an emotional day for everyone. Suguru swore he’d do anything to break it while Nanako and Mimiko yelled and yelled, Megumi just sobbing into your chest.
The girls visit her often, talking to her as they fix her hair and ensure she’s comfortable. Megumi appreciates their care as he silently stares from the corner.
Oh, breakfasts are always bustling.
The children are spoiled just as much as Satoru’s husbands are.
What a terrifying trio you are - abilities powerful beyond the curve!
Shoko always takes a few shots before heading over to celebrate holiday dinners, lmao.
She understands that you three enjoy asking about her love life though all three of you were made to kneel in apology as she glared after Satoru and you “accidentally” found the woman she’d been seeing.
Suguru rolls his eyes every time Satoru and you stroke the dragon spirit's snout or compliment the spear-wielding spirit.
While they bring burn-relief medication for you, Satoru and you ensure to bring snacks to wash away the foul taste of curses for Suguru and Suguru and you always have extra blindfolds and painkillers for Satoru.
Yuta grew flustered as he found out the three of you were together. He had honestly thought Suguru was cheating on Satoru with you but Maki’s scoff of “disgust” and her brief explanation made his face bloom into fifty shades of red.
Yuji would honestly not care - he’d be surprised at first but bounce back rather quickly (although Ryomen Sukuna would certainly have his comments).
ANGST TIME!
The Shibuya arc would be very different of course, though wouldn’t it just be delightful if Kenjaku managed to grab (Y/N) and force his husband to see Ryomen Sukuna not only take over their son’s body but see their husband get claimed by another?
Delicious angst, me thinks.
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"But I just wanna stop right next to you, if I could my dream? I just wanna stop right next to you."
polygamous marriage (?) of Satosugu and kentoYN!
In this AU, (Y/N) and Satoru would feel so guilty for letting their eyes wander to their significant future husbands.
It’s not as though they don’t love each other but there’s this societal norm of monogamy and despite never getting physical with Suguru/Kento the emotional aspect still makes them feel like they’re doing something dirty.
It wasn’t fair to anyone.
Shoko dryly mumbling about polygamy had Satoru and you instantly perking up.
You loved Suguru and Satoru liked Kento - but neither of them wanted to be in a relationship with each other. So this arrangement of Satoru’s boyfriend and (Y/N)’s boyfriend honestly worked. It was confusing at first but it worked.
When Satoru married Suguru and you married Kento, it was a joyous event. A double wedding!
A rowdy household once again, Satoru insisted on living on the same land just with multiple “sections”. Even if this was a polycule, I’d imagine solitude from one another is still appreciated after all. The house was built from the ground up and it was a labour of love to ensure all four of you (and your kids) would have their own slice of heaven.
Kento adores you, the rings on your fingers, and the home you share.
Satoru adores you as well, never once making you feel as though this is a competition.
Both Satoru and you are fair to each other and your respective husbands. Never favouring the other or anything that would make them feel like a “glorified side chick.”
The kids aren’t confused at all.
Although they did have to adjust to call which father what.
They settled with Dad (you), Papa (Suguru), Pa (Kento), and Father (Satoru - only to annoy him.) Sometimes the four of you will have to play it by ear since they just use “daddd!” interchangeably.
Shoko still takes shots before she heads over to go to holiday dinners.
The students are also not confused. Yuta got a bit flustered but Suguru just informed him about it and Yuta felt less anxious - he genuinely thought Satoru was cheating on (Y/N) when he walked in on Satoru and Suguru making out in an empty classroom.
You’d honestly just giggle at Yuta’s face when he told you this which made him more confused while Suguru gave him the mercy to pat his head.
Yuji would think it’d be so cool that such a dynamic worked.
Nanako and Mimiko as Tokyo High students make my heart soar - Megumi has his older sisters tease him relentlessly whenever their schedules overlap (they always do).
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