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milkbreadandtadpoles · 4 months

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soup!sukuna

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆｡°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒｡⋆୨୧˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆｡°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒｡⋆୨୧˚

snippet: 2k depicting the first time reader and soup!au sukuna hookup. he's less than nice, but you're into that. modern au!! idk if it's college or whatnot, u decide (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ reader is neutral, described as having a vagina

warnings: pnv ladies and germs, rough sex ig! slapping and spanking and some degradation if you squint. sukuna being a total ass and reader playing him like a fiddle and making him question his stamina. not edited yet cuz im on that "im so proud" high

author's note shiiii: oh hello, it's me again. i am ill (i have been ill for a week), and i guess suku the gr8 has gotten to me. so pls enjoy how i think he is in my little brain. all characters are over the age of 18, and if you are reading this and are not, silently show yourself the door <3

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆｡°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒｡⋆୨୧˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆｡°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒｡⋆୨୧˚

There’s a harsh smack on your ass as you crawl across the bed. It has you stumble and squeak; a helping hand forcing you to arch, lay and stay against your mattress. Another high pitched noise has Sukuna chuckling above you, palming the growing erection with his other hand. You turn around and gulp.

Sometimes boys don’t lie.

“You’re so hot.” He says quietly, baritone in his tone still noticeable. You laugh, and his brows knit- the fuck are you laughing about?

There’s a push in you, forcing your spin to dip gracefully, deviously and deliciously. You sprawl your arms in front of you, fingers rubbing against one of your blankets. He’s admiring you, you can feel it. Those deep, savory eyes, colored like a cherry wine underneath the yellow ambience of your lamp, graze over the lace outline of your cotton panties.

“Thanks.” You hum, biting your bottom lip saturated with gloss and balm. No need to compliment him back, he knows he’s devastating.

He reaches out to grope and smack each of your cheeks haphazardly. You purr; his hand covers so much of you. There’s a lopsided smirk on his face, it’s apparent as he yanks the material off. Lazily, you crawl out of them, since boys can’t be bothered to take them off further than the back of your knees, and reposition yourself.

Large, gruff hands degrade you- one of them molding against the entirety of your skull to press half of your face into the bed, the other rubbing his spit onto his dick and getting ready to align himself with the opening of your pussy.

Boys.

“You gotta finger me first.”

Sukuna’s upper lip curls, looking at you like you’re all work. The feeling doesn’t fade when you openly roll your eyes. Don’t you get it, girl? You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. So just lay there and-

“I texted you about it. I’ll literally tear,” You add.

“Alright.” He bites, unwrapping his fingers from around the base of his cock and nudging one of the digits against your slit. And holy shit you’re tight. Sensitive. Those eyes catch the slightest curl in your toes, the purse of your lips and furrow of your brows as you feel him out.

And shit, he kinda wants to see your face strewn up.

Sukuna nudges his middle finger between your legs, lips parting in realizing how tight you actually are. You were right.

if we hookup you gotta be gentle first, im tight

and not in the cool way

You hum lightly in satisfaction, something he never though the enjoyed hearing, letting a sharp gasp emit from your lungs as he selfishly adds his index. Thighs shut, Sukuna has to remove his grip from your head to inch them back apart to watch your pussy clench and flutter around a percentage of him.

“Slower.” Sukuna raises his brows at your demanding attitude- he’ll have to fuck that out of you later, but relents regardless, carefully twisting two joined fingers in and out of your walls that are already squelching and wet.

What bitchy comment you made pays off immediately, the sound of a saccharine sweet moan he pulls from you making his dick twitch. There’s a pellet of want in his sternum, something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager who groped a pair of tits in the locker room for the first time.

After a few minutes of dragging sweet sounds from you, he experimentally pulls his fingers out, more than pleased to see your eyes open and peer at him with indignation. You huff, rubbing your socked feet together in silent anticipation.

You open your mouth to protest, only to cut yourself off with a high pitched whine as he urges three of his fingers, much bigger than any other boy you’ve had (but you won’t tell him that) back between your pussy. Preening against his touch, you move your hips back to meet at his knuckles.

Sukuna laughs once, and again when you clench around his fingers at his amusement.

“Oh.” Is what you say, all watery and whiny when he thrusts one, two, three, four times in rapid movements. It catches you off guard, and you squirm. Your fingers grapple at your sheets, face twisting to hide from his penetrating gaze. He’s enamored with your face, the way it pinches in delight.

“Are you gonna cum?”

You laugh amidst a pleasured whimper.

“No- you can fuck me now.”

Whatever face he made, you choose not to see.

He grunts, laying a smack against your pussy and kneading the fat of your hips while he aligns his. Slowly, just like your bratty, bossy ass said, he eases the tip of his cock between your plush thighs, your hot, tight walls. You pinch your face, focusing on being relaxed, letting out a garbled whimper as he sinks himself to the hilt.

The notion of him pulling out (before slamming back in, as all men do too quickly), has you reaching a hand out and nudging at his stomach to stop him.

“Slow.” You reprimand.

“Shut the fuck up.” He thinks he's gonna cum.

Sukuna graces you by easing in and out twice, dragging out a soft, sweet hum from you before he rolls his hips in a dangerously fast notion. He likes it when you squeal in surprise. Maybe if you’re not as bossy the rest of the time, he’ll look you in the eye and speak to you casually the next time you're at the basketball court with Uraume.

The tip, all angry and red just like him, pushes against your cervix. You get to squirm for a quick second before both of his hands grab at your hips to push you down, to shut you up, to keep you still. A small, uncomfortable giggle bubbles in your throat, peering at him out of the corner of your eyes.

How your eyes are slit, the way you’re expression is lidded and enchanted, has Sukuna grunting and thrusting against you harshly. Your lips, all glossy and annoyingly cute, curl into a satiated smile, parting a mere second after as he pulls out all the way just to bully himself back in.

You sink into the bed, back arched to practiced perfection.

“That’s right,” He breathes, fucking into you at a pace that forces your jaw slaw, “There you go.”

Your lashes flutter at his words go straight to your gut, hearing the petulant smack of him against your clit, the plush of your thighs. He inches closer, and you gasp as he knees you further apart and forces himself even deeper.

Thumbs nudge at the dimples in your back, pressing against them as he forces your hips to fuck against him. The fat of your ass squishes against his lower abdomen, and you swear he’s so thick you can feel the outline of one of his veins in your walls.

“Shit.” You cry, pushing yourself upright to stay steady against the forceful thrusts that threaten to knock your head into the metal bed frame. Sukuna shakes his head, moving his hands and leaning over to push you back down.

Breath leaves you, and you whimper when you feel his hands against your cheek, the back of your head, shoving your face into the sheets again.

“Sorry.” The whisper in your voice as you hiccup a moan that has Sukuna shaking his head once more in disbelief because he’s about to bust. He pulls out, forcing himself to fucking not, taking one of his hands (don’t worry, you’re still coerced down with the other) to give you an angry smack on your ass.

You’ve never heard a man growl like he just did. And well, you’ve been around the block. It’s strained and jarring and fucking hot, the way Sukuna does it in warning.

A minute later and he’s shoving himself back into you with no warning, making sure you stay right here as he pinches the chunk of flesh on your cheek. His palm is flat, forcing your lips into a dirty pout that muffles any noise that bubbles between them.

“Mhm,” He murmurs, impressed that he didn’t cum right then and there when he caught sight of your watery eyes looking so pornographic, “Keep your mouth fucking shut.”

Sukuna’s good, you’ll give him that. So you try, only to be obscured and mushed into a babbling mess the longer he fucks into you. It’s overwhelming, the way his cock stretches you out. Your walls flutter with relief each time he teases you as he pulls all the way out, only to be devastatingly, pleasurable split open with the harsh, nipped roll of his hips.

There’s a slap to your cheek. And you hum.

“Oh,” He goads, “You like that.”

You’re nodding, and he’s flipping you over, yanking you and pushing right back into you. It makes your head swim as he grabs your face between his finger, squishing it and molding it like clay. Your lips pucker like a little, helpless fish, wondering for a split second if he’ll kiss you.

He doesn’t. You don’t mind. It feels better than a kiss when he releases your face only to reel his hand back and slap you so hard across the face your ears begin to ring.

Sukuna likes that dumb look on your face, gripping the dips of your waist so he can fuck himself harder into you. The gasps and wiggles, the way your small, manicured fingers wrap around his biceps has the sharpness of his cheekbones flushing with color. It brings a brief look of annoyance to his face, because he’s on the verge of cumming again.

Your nails dig into the muscles of his upper arms, lips parted and face pinched in that sweet expression as you gaze at him with a disbelieving look at how deep he’s hitting.

“It’s too much, let me flip over-“ The begging falls of deaf ears, a large hand decorated in thick ink wrapping around your throat to finally fucking quiet you. Sukuna doesn’t let you worm away, pushing you into the bed to keep you right where you belong so he can pummel you to his own orgasm.

That look on your face- blissfully fucked out and controlled, face warm, it’s too much for Sukuna’s stamina. He pulls out, hissing under his breath as he busts all over your stomach. It squirts across your smooth skin; part of him wants to smear it and rub it in.

And you laugh. Breathy and choked, reaching up and wiping your eyes from the tears of being choked a millisecond from passing out. Sukuna unwraps his hand from your throat, giving you a supportive, congratulative pat on your cheek.

“Why are you fucking laughing?” You're weird and cocky.

You wave him off, turning and pulling open a drawer in your bedside table. Rummaging, you pull out a package of wet wipes, opening it for the two of you as you clean yourself off and toss it in the trashcan by your bed. And shit, to Sukuna, you look more well prepared than him.

He takes one and cleans himself off. You pull up your panties and yank over a shirt large enough to come to your knees. The braids in your hair are frizzy, your bottom lip wet and chewed from your own vacillation.

A satisfied smile smears across your face as you re-balm your lips, Sukuna eyeing your incurious face as he yanks on his boxers and joggers. You lay flat on the bed, giving yourself a minute to bask in the recently-fucked high.

“Thanks.” You murmur to him as he pulls on a white shirt. Black ink teases through the sheen fabric, and you watch with an apathetic hunger.

“Sure.”

He’s grabbing his keys, and you’re walking him out the door. Sukuna looks at the socks you’re wearing, the same socks tracing up and down his lower back as your legs were wrapped around his torso; he entertains the idea of feeling it again.

“Bye! Drive safe.”

“See ya.”

You shut the door behind him, a giddy, exultant smile on your face as you trail back to your room so you can call your friends and tell them about how good you were just fucked. How hot he was. That is was Sukuna, that guy who knows and hangs out with Choso. But you’ll text him first.

drive safe! I had fun. Let me know if you wanna do it again. ଘ( ˊωˋ)†

He texts you ten minutes later, home.

the fuck is that?

#jujutsu kaisen #ryomen x reader #jjk ryomen #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk smut #jujustu kai #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x reader #welp!#there she is #happy friday and happy mf new year #this is so self ship bc this was me lmfao #enjoy ladies and gents #my works

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kiyovazquez · 3 months

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Little rainbow (Wukong x Kiyo)

Los cálidos rayos del sol se filtraban en la habitación del hospital, donde dos dioses contemplaban a su pequeña criatura. Kiyo se encontraba recostada sobre blancas almohadas, con el monito acurrucado en sus brazos maternales.

El recién nacido dormía plácidamente, ajeno al mundo, apenas unas horas después de ver la luz por primera vez. Kiyo lo miraba enamorada, olvidando el cansancio de tantas horas de parto.

Con delicadeza, deslizó sus dedos por la espalda del bebé, conteniendo a duras penas las lágrimas que amenazaban por escapar. A su lado, su amado esposo la miraba en silencio, compartiendo aquel momento de gracia.

—Es tan pequeño...— musitó Kiyo, derritiéndose de ternura. Su criatura era aún más diminuta que los niños humanos, siendo tan pequeño y delgado.

—Los monos son más pequeños que los bebés humanos— observó Wukong con sabiduría, recordando a los pequeños monitos de su montaña.

Con suma delicadeza, envolvió a Kiyo en un cálido abrazo, cuidando de no causarle el menor malestar tras las horas de parto. Recargó su mentón en el hombro de su amada, uniéndose a ella en la contemplación del pequeño milagro entre sus brazos.

Sus toscas manos, endurecidas por las batallas, rozaron con infinita ternura la mejilla del bebé. Sus deditos eran más frágiles que el pétalo de una flor, y su boquita y sonrosadas mejillas despertaban una oleada de amor en lo más hondo de su alma.

—¿Has pensado ya en un nombre para él? —preguntó Kiyo después de unos minutos de silencio, buscando la mirada dorada de su amado.

—Eso es fácil —rio Wukong entre dientes, estrechando con más fuerza a su familia—. Claramente se llamará Wukong Jr, es mi viva imagen— expresó con orgullo.

La pelinegra frunció el entrecejo al escuchar tal ocurrencia. Con delicadeza acunó al bebé entre sus brazos, como protegiéndolo de aquel nombre.

—Nuestro hijo no llevará tu nombre —se negó con suavidad—. Él es su propia persona y merece un nombre propio

—Pero, mi lluvia... —se quejó Wukong con un puchero, antes de dejar escapar un suspiro resignado—. Bien, dime qué nombres tienes en mente. Espero al menos que sean más bonitos o será Wukong jr —soltó con una sonrisa burlona.

Kiyo sonrió, preparándose para crear unos segundos de suspenso antes de hablar.

—Se llamará Mixtli —anunció con orgullo. Un bufido escapó de los labios de Wukong.

—¿Mixtli? ¿Qué clase de nombre es ese?

—Significa "nube" en náhuatl —explicó Kiyo mirándolo con dulzura. — Nuestro hijo no será solo chino, también llevará en sí las raíces de mi cultura.

—Lo sé, lo sé —concedió Wukong haciendo muecas. — pero no estoy seguro...

—Pero solecito, a mí me encanta Mixtli —insistió Kiyo con un puchero. Tras reflexionar un momento, propuso. — ¿Qué tal si tiene dos nombres? elige tú su otro nombre, pero no Wukong Jr

Wukong frunció el ceño, sumido en reflexiones. Jamás había pensado en tener que nombrar a un hijo, acostumbrado a la idea de llamarlo como él. Pero deseaba honrar los orígenes de Kiyo también.

Se apartó un poco y contempló al bebé en silencio, analizando sus delicados rasgos en busca de la esencia oculta tras ellos. Poco a poco, una sonrisa se dibujó en su rostro.

─Creo que tiene cara de Kai ─declaró con orgullo.

─ ¿Kai? Podrías haber elegido algo más corto ─bromeó Kiyo con tono sarcástico.

─Oye, Kai es un nombre noble... ─se quejó con dulzura─ Además, dijiste que serían dos. Kai Mixtli suena armonioso, ¿no crees?

—Pero solecito, el punto no es...

Kiyo no alcanzó a terminar cuando un llanto interrumpió sus palabras. Con delicadeza acunó a Kai, susurrándole cálidas palabras mientras lo mecía.

—Tranquilo, mami y papi están aquí... —musitaba arrullándolo. Pero los sollozos del bebé no cesaban.

Wukong los contempló en silencio y un semblante serio. Con suavidad acarició los finos cabellos del pequeño, calmando su llanto para sorpresa de todos. El silencio reino en la habitación unos momentos.

—¿Pensaste alguna vez en ser madre? —preguntó Wukong en tono reflexivo, sin apartar la vista del niño.

—No realmente, al menos no tan pronto —confesó Kiyo confundida—. Cuando nos casamos comencé a imaginarlo, pero nuestro hijo fue... Una sorpresa.

—Y... ¿No te molesta? — murmuró Wukong con una vulnerabilidad poco común en él.

Kiyo lo miró con ternura, intuyendo sus inquietudes. Sostuvo al bebé con una mano mientras la otra tomaba la mejilla de su amado.

—¿Qué es lo que realmente te preocupa, cariño? — inquirió acariciando su rostro.

Wukong suspiró hondo.

—Tengo miedo de ser mal padre —confesó al fin. — Yo no tengo padres, nací de una roca, sólo estuvieron mis maestros, pero jamás los vi como figuras paternas. Sé que podría cometer errores y lastimar a Kai sin querer. No quiero defraudarlo...— decía, alzando su mirada al pequeño fruto de su amor. Sus ojos se entrecerraron un poco. — tengo miedo de lastimarlo o ponerlo en peligro como he hecho con MK, Macaque... Con todos. No quiero que él pase por todo eso y mucho menos por mi culpa...

—Wukong, no puedo asegurarte de que serás el mejor padre, el futuro es incierto —susurró Kiyo acariciando su rostro con dulzura. — Tampoco yo sé si estaré a la altura, pero una cosa sí puedo prometerte: estaremos juntos en esto...— sonrió, buscando confortar a su esposo. — Tus dudas y temores demuestran que realmente lo amas y quieres lo mejor para él. Eso es lo verdaderamente importante. No necesitas ser el padre perfecto, sólo ser el padre que Kai merece: aquel que lo ame incondicionalmente, lo escuche, lo guíe y proteja. Y de eso estoy segura de que eres capaz...

Wukong sintió que sus miedos comenzaban a disolverse ante la mirada llena de fe y confianza de Kiyo. Ella creía en él aun cuando él mismo no lo hacía. Y si ella confiaba en que juntos podrían ser buenos padres, él también empezaba a creerlo. Sus labios se curvaron en una sincera sonrisa, entregándose de lleno a su nueva misión como protector de aquella preciosa vida que había creado junto a su esposa.

—Gracias, mi amor— murmuró, estrechándola entre sus brazos con cuidado de no aplastar al bebé. — Estar juntos es todo lo que necesito. Haré lo mejor por nuestro hijo, te lo prometo.

—Confía en mí, también tengo mucho miedo... —susurró Kiyo separándose lentamente de su abrazo para mirar el rostro de su esposo. — Pero ¿sabes qué es lo que me da fuerzas? Ver tus ojos dorados. Al mirar en ellos cada día recuerdo todo mi pasado y veo todo lo que hemos recorrido juntos. Ya no soy aquella chica triste y sola que una vez fui, ahora soy tu esposa, la madre de nuestro pequeño hijo y la diosa de la lluvia. No podría desear un futuro mejor. Tú salvaste mi vida tan solo con tu mirada...y seguir viendo esos lindos ojos todos los días solo me recuerdan lo feliz que soy actualmente y lo feliz que seguiré siendo a tu lado.

Wukong acarició su mejilla con ternura y la estrechó de nuevo entre sus brazos, ocultando el rostro en su cuello y respirando su aroma.

—Creo que en realidad nos hemos salvado mutuamente sin darnos cuenta —susurró, con la voz quebrada por la emoción, soltando un pequeño suspiro como si de esa forma, sus miedos se borran para siempre.

Kiyo sonrió dulcemente, entregándose al abrazo de Wukong con calma. Unas lágrimas de profunda felicidad se deslizaron por sus mejillas al recordar el largo camino recorrido para llegar a este momento de felicidad junto al amor de su vida. Había valido cada tropiezo, cada lágrima derramada.

Pocos segundos después, como si supiera que era el centro de atención, Kai volvió a despertar sollozando bajito y removiéndose entre sus mantas. Sus padres se separaron despacio, mirando al pequeño niño envuelto en mantas azules demandando atención.

—Creo que un buen comienzo para cualquier padre es cargar a su hijo entre sus brazos— susurró Kiyo con ternura, trasmitiéndole toda la confianza que él aún no se atrevía a darse. Extendió al pequeño bultito que sollozaba, acunándolo un instante más entre sus manos antes de depositarlo con cuidado en el pecho de Wukong.

—K-Kiyo, no creo poder...— murmuro Wukong nervioso, cortando sus palabras de inmediato cuando sintió el menudo cuerpecito de Kai acurrucarse con confianza sobre su pecho.

En silencio, el mono naranja miró con asombro al fruto de su amor. Cada respiración y movimiento del bebé lo absorbían por completo, logrando que su corazón latiera como loco. Las pequeñas manitas de Kai se agitaron buscando aferrarse a la ropa paterna, hallando en ese simple gesto el consuelo que demandaba.

Wukong contuvo el aliento, admirado por la fragilidad y perfección de tan pequeño ser. Sus miedos se desvanecieron al comprender que aquel niño ahora formaba parte de su alma. Lo envolvió con infinito cuidado entre sus brazos, maravillado al contemplarlo moverse plácidamente sobre su pecho.

—Será un honor y un privilegio ser tu padre, Kai Mixtli— susurró conmovido, sin apartar la mirada de su rostro. En ese instante supo que haría cualquier cosa con tal de verlo feliz y protegerlo por siempre. Finalmente conocía aquella palabra tan desconocida para él, paternidad.

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